Being There For Admiration

I'm usually not one of curiosity—meaning I'm not that curious of people(though they can be quite curious of me).

People are just open books, not hard to figure out if you can read. They have their own stories, usually short and uninteresting. Not worth my time, definitely.

Well, except Emmett McCarty. Oh, this guy is a god, I tell you. He's actually the football quarterback star for our school, and I'm the boy in the back-round. See, I'm the popular guy who is hard to get along with because I never pay attention to you because you never deserve it.

But no, Emmett McCarty is far from that. He's the type of popular that you don't even try because your to goddamned scared to approach him. Which is weird, since Emmett McCarty, despite his totally ripped out body linage, is actually kind and sweet—the type of person who tries not to scream because he doesn't want you to feel bad. He's utterly stupid, too.

But it's cute. Really.

How do I know this, you ask? Well, I'm what you call a secret stalker. I silently watch every moment of Emmett McCarty—even to the point where I've gone to his house and looked into his window(which he conveniently leaves un-blinded and open). It's no secret that Emmett is all brawn and no brain, however, because he is constantly having to take supplementary lessons. His grade average is completely bellow what it's supposed to be to play in sports and clubs, but the football teem needs him so much that they can't dare take him off.

I have no objection. Emmett McCarty running around a large field in tights....

I shudder.

I'm a pervert. Not hard to tell.

Curiosity always killed the cat—it's good I'm not the curious type of human being. But...I can't help but be pulled into this overly loud conversation that is being muffled by a creaked-open door down the hall from my locker—it's the gym guys changing room.

You see, I stayed behind to read this book that the librarian—my favorite, Mrs. Carli—had lent me. She was staying behind to work on some papers, so I decided I could read the book quite fast and was determined to finish it before she left.

Right now, I don't have that book in my hand, or my bag—not even my locker. Yes, that three-hundred-sixty-four page book was done in an hour and thirteen minutes. Thank you.

Pushing my Spanish textbook into my bag before pushing my locker shut lightly, not wanting to cause any alarm to them—although they were quite far away, and with how loud they were yelling, I was quite sure they wouldn't notice even if I blew off a bomb.

I carefully pushed my lock my locker before I slid my bag over my shoulder, silently walking towards the room. People said that I had a really bad knack for being so quiet it was like I snuck up on them. Sometimes it's intentional, other's not(Most times, intentional. It's fun seeing horrified faces. Especially Rosalie's). They called my feet 'ghost feet'.

Stupid.

Clenching the strap of my bag hard, I stepped extremely close to the door, pressing by body against the tiled wall. It sent chills running up and down my spine when I hit the cold clay, but what made my heart freeze was the voice I heard.

Yes, it was Emmett McCarty.

The other voice I knew all to well—James Russe, the top champ wrestler for are school. It was obvious he had been dating Emmett—Emmett was never one to hide his feelings, and James didn't mind showing off. He's the one that made my blood coil venomously every time I even thought of him.

Emmett and James were lovers, and there were some instances when I had stayed after school for a project or deciding to teach Seth Clearwater(a guy one year down from me, totally cute, really nice and considerate, and opened minded. A good friend) on his homework or something else related to life—not necessarily school directed, and I had heard the sweet moans and cries of Emmett muffled from a closed door to the gym lockers or the bathroom—maybe a supply closet or classroom.

I commonly ended up wanking off to Emmett's gorgeous, heavenly whimpers and sounds of pleasure in a nearby closed off area where I could hear them.

I had found out that Emmett could bottom just as well as he could top from the half understandable speeches he had grounded out.

I would most likely go home and cry after that.

"....even serious?!" That was Emmett's voice, and I could tell he was overly aggravated and pissed. "Seriously, James! Seriously!"

What's going on?, I thought absently, inching closer to the door, I peeked through the small creak and I saw Emmett's massive figure pacing in circles as held a thumb to his chin. He kept throwing out his hands, asking the same question: Seriously?

When I squinted my eyes, I was just about able to see James, his back pressed against the red lockers, staring at the ceiling of the locker room. His hands clenched the whole's that went through the top of the lockers tightly, and his knuckles were white.

"You wouldn't understand Emmett. You would never understand."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!," Emmett roared dangerously. "Your fucking juicing, James! Juicing!"

My mouth dawned wide open in shock. James was on steroids.

The long, blonde haired teen finally looked back to Emmett, and a deep set, hateful glare was placed firmly on his face. "I'm sorry we all can't be you, Emmett! I'm sorry that we can't have your physique!" The way he said 'physique' made my lips curl back, baring my teeth as a low hiss whisked in my throat. "I'm not you!"

"Oh shut the fuck up!," Emmett cried, and I was surprised how desperate he sounded. I was relieved when Emmett did what I was secretly wanting him to do. He reached out and his fingers wrapped around the front of James shirt, clenching it tightly with a trembling(hopefully in rage) fist.

"This isn't about me," he growled. "This is about you"

I caught James eyes lifting—Emmett clenched tighter. "Do you even know what this shit does to you, James? It complete fucks you up! That's what it does! Are you proud knowing that your just using a drug to get all strong and buff so you can win? ARE YOU?! Where's the damn"—Emmett lifts James of the lockers and then slams him back in harshly—"pride?"

"Oh fuck off, Em," James growls, grabbing Emmett's arms and ripping it off his chest. "You did the same shit too, Emmett."

My eyes widened. Is this how Emmett got big? Am I in love with a fake? No, it can't be...I've never seen him do anything...

"Yeah," Emmett admitted gruffly, making my heart crush. "Once. Once. I didn't even get halfway through the whole injection that I stopped. I couldn't even stand to think I was going to do something as fucked up as that."

My heart quickly inflated. I took a slow, steady breath, blinking in relief. Good, I though, He's real.

'Real' as in a 'real' person. Meaning that he was true—everything about him was 'natural' to some point. I wanted to slap myself for even thinking that Emmett would be a lowlife coward who just uses drugs to get his way.

No, Emmett was real and true—just like always. I should be ashamed for doubting him.

"Then your just a pussy," James replied, sticking his nose in the air(or at least to my eyes—my imagination might be getting the better of me).

"Dude, what the fuck? I can't even believe you! Your so fucked up! I thought you were actually...." Emmett's voice trailed off into a silence, and I was shocked that he couldn't finish his sentence. Emmett always had an answer for something—even if it was stupid. And speaking about idiocy, Emmett was taking this pretty serious.

Stunning, believe me.

"See, Emmett, that's where you go! 'I thought you were actually'....Your such a fucking whining bitch! Sure you're a good cock but your to emotional! It's like your some fragile girl! Men aren't like this Emmett. We're strong and we bare with other people."

"YOUR. ON .FUCKING. STEROIDS."

I take in a sharp breath.

James pauses, before he finally sighs wearily. He looks at Emmett. "I least I told you, Emmett. Do you know how hard I thought about this for the last few weeks? About telling you? It's been tearing me up inside...this was what I was fearing. This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"Oh, James."

My heart clenches.

I see Emmett's angry face drop, and he wraps his overly large, ripped arms around Jame's lanky, yet just as muscular frame. James sighs too, wrapping his arms as far as they can go around Emmett's body and burying his head in Emmett's chest.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, only it's muffled by Emmett's chest. I can tell it's what he said by common sense and how Emmett caressed his long blonde hair, shushing him and saying it's okay.

Are you serious, Emmett?!, I'm not wondering. Really, you are just going to let him go like that?!

I can hear my heart slowly declining into a state of depression. I was hoping they would break up...even though I wouldn't go to him even if they did.

I watch as the two teens pull away, gazing strait into each other's eyes.

Emmett cups James's face with his bear-like hands. "You have to stop. Please."

James didn't reply at first. I noticed tears glistening on his cheeks, and they were slightly rosy while his eyes were kind of puffy and bright, tingly pink.

He said something, but it was to soft for me to hear.

By Emmett's expression I knew what it was.

I can't.

Emmett's face dropped. Literally dropped. "Why," he pleaded. "Please...why can't you do this? For me?"

James shook his head, blinking as he turned away. "I can't Emmett. I would fall if I stopped using them. I wouldn't be good enough. I would just be normal. I can't be normal. I have to stand out....I can't."

"What about me?," Emmett whispered. "Are you ready to give me up for them? Your ready to loose me over steroids?"

"Yes."

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming out in rage. How could he?! How could he fucking do that to Emmett!

The look on Emmett's face—the devestated, all-hope-gone, never smiling look—was what kept me back from running into the room and tackling James and throwing punches so hard at him that it could possible end his pitiful life.

James reached into his locker, and Emmett didn't say a word. Then, he started walking towards the door I was standing by—I didn't move.

James looked at me, shocked, for a few seconds while he spotted me outside. Then he blinked, sighing.

He must've known I wouldn't tell, because he walked right past me without even a whisper.

I stayed there, staring at Emmett for a long time.

Emmett stayed standing for a few minutes. When he raised his head from his chest, I saw clear tears running down his round cheeks.

He sniffed, turning back to his locker and opening it. But then, as he was reaching inside, his leg gave out, and he fell to the floor. He didn't bother resist or try to get back up once he hit the floor.

He ended up sitting up and then curling into a ball, sobbing.

Next thing I know, I'm right beside him. I'm looming over him, and it's either he doesn't notice I'm there, or he doesn't care.

Both are possible.

Finally, Emmett sniffs, looking up at me.

I don't know what to say. His eyes are so desperate and lost, I'm speechless.

But...

I reach out, and my hand rested itself on Emmett's head, burying itself in Emmett's dark brown curls. I muss it, and Emmett's eyes widen into innocent, bright green orbs.

I force a smile. "It's okay, Em. It's not the end of the world."

And I know what I said is true.

Review?---Sorry about spelling/grammar mistakes: READ BELOW

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GOD I AM FUCKING TIRED. I was about to go asleep and write this tomorrow, but I didn't! Nope, I stayed up two hours writing this! I almost fell asleep at the computer twice! Twice! All because I wanted to write while I had inspiration! YOUR WELCOME!