Hunter woke up in a daze. His eyes were heavy and his head was pounding. He couldn't remember a damn thing from the previous night even if he tried. But after a few minutes and a quick scan of his pig-sty of a room, after seeing the empty beer bottles, the used needles, the cigarette butts, and the condom wrappers, he had a good idea of what the night of his 23rd birthday was like.
He sluggishly made his way to the bathroom and looked at his ominous reflection in the mirror. The man in the mirror stared at Hunter with sleek, jet black hair that slightly covered his face. His deep blue eyes were blood-shot from the endless drinking and lack of sleep. He was lost in his own reflection, confused by the man he had become. He wasn't always like this, all dark, lost and confused. He didn't used to always be getting into trouble and willing to do anything for a fix. It wasn't until after his parent's and younger sister's death, when he was seventeen that he took a turn for the worse. He was desperate. He sold himself to whores and did anything he could just to make ends meet. His goal was to survive, no matter the cost. Eventually, Hunter turned to drugs to cope with the pain he was going through. He could faintly see his scars from his past, coating his body, and Hunter did everything he could to cover them up. But his journey through the past had been interrupted by footsteps outside his door.
A tall, blond woman stood in Hunter's bedroom doorway. She was exceptionally pretty, but she was definitely a hooker. What the hell did he do last night? The hooker was wearing a lacy, leopard print bra, tight skinny jeans and black "hooker shoes" (naturally). She walked into his room, picked up what looked like something that could barely pass for a blouse, smiled sweetly at Hunter, and left without a word.
Scratching his head in confusion, Hunter left the bathroom and picked up a half empty beer bottle and drank what was left of it. He looked at the time, 11:00 a.m. Now was about the time Hunter usually took a dose of heroin or crack or something. He found one unused needle, or at least it looked unused, and sweetly injected it into his cool, rich, coursing veins. And after the Stimulate was in his system, he felt better, like he could take on anything. When Hunter was high, all his pain went away, his past did not exist, the future would never come. It was just the present, any nothing else mattered…
Since he was recently fired from his last job, Hunter mostly spent his days getting high, and nights wandering the streets, stopping at a bar or two along the way. And tonight was no exception. He slipped on a black t-shirt, grey skinny jeans and his old, beat-up Converse. He left his apartment around 10:00 p.m. to lurk in the shadows of New York.
The city came alive at night. It was brighter at night then it was during the day. It's no question why New York is called "the city that never sleeps." But, Hunter knew how to get escape from the mass of night-goers. He walked through alleys and detours, not walking towards anything in particular, just walking. He liked to think, not about anything specific, he just liked to think about life, about how he screwed up everything.
Controlled by thirst, Hunter entered a small bar, Johnny's Corner. It was a small joint, but it would do the trick.
"One Sierra Nevada," stated Hunter, without making much of a glimpse at the Bartender.
"Coming right up!" said the bartender in an unusually cheery way. It mage hunter roll his eyes.
Hunter scanned the quaint bar. It was small, only a few people and the 11:00 News was playing on the out-of-date box television. As Hunter was scanning the room, a new figure walked through the doors of the isolated bar. The man took a seat next to Hunter and neither said a word to each other. He had dark brown hair that was similar to Hunter's, but not quite as long. He had deep grey eyes and was an average looking man. He wore a striped V-neck, Skinny jeans, though not as tight as Hunters Of course, and brand new Converse.
"What can I get you sir?" asked the to-happy-to-not-be-on-drugs bartender.
The man glanced at Hunters Sierra Nevada and replied with a smile, "I'll have what he's having." Hunter blushed but he had no idea why. And then something occurred to him. That voice. That strange man's voice. He had heard it somewhere before. He couldn't place his figure on it. Why was this man so familiar? And then, it hit Hunter. Could it really be…?
"Um excuse me," Hunter said in a quiet voice.
"Yes,"Said the man as he turned his attention from his drink towards Hunter. And at that moment he knew. Hunter knew it was him.
"Hey Xander," said Hunter with a smirk on his face, "Remember me?"
Xander's looked confused at first, but within moments, his eyes lit up at the sight of his childhood best friend. "Of course I remember you man!" exclaimed Xander. They engaged in a quick "bro-hug" and then sat back down on the ratty-old bar stools. Xander and Hunter had met in middle school. Xander was the most popular kid in school. He was constantly having girls hang over him and he played every sport in the world. With all the popularity he got, Xander still never failed to make time to help others. He was perfect. On the other hand, Hunter was the exact opposite. He was shy and constantly struggled with making friends. He was a loner and far from perfect. But somehow, they became best of friends. Xander's outgoing and caring personality balanced with Hunter's shy, awkward presence.
"How long has it been?" questioned Hunter.
"To long," sighed Xander, "To long. I haven't seen you since, well, you know." Xander was referencing to the death of Hunter's family. After he lost them, Hunter dropped out of school and never looked back he gave up on life and wen to live on his own. He figured if you had nothing, nothing to care about, then you would have a lesser chance of being hurt.
For the next few hours or so, Xander and Hunter talked about what they had been up to for the past 4 or 5 years. They talked about girls they dated and slept with. Parties they'd been to, and a bunch of other "guy stuff."
"So, u gotta girlfriend I expect?" Chuckled Hunter, sipping his beer.
"Actually,"replied Xander with I slight tone of embarrassment and a little red in his cheeks, "I'm single. I've been for a while as matter of fact. I just haven't found 'the one' " Xander looked at Hunter with soothing eyes.
Hunter could feel his heart pounding and his face begin to turn red. He kept telling himself to snap out of it. Why was he getting all nervous like this? Probably because he hadn't seen his friend in a long time and he was anxious. Yah, that had to be the reason. Unless…
"So how about you," Said Xander, startling Hunter from his daze, "You got anyone special in your life?"
Hunter glanced down at his nearly empty beer bottle, "I don't think so…" Hunter remembered the hooker in his apartment earlier that morning. He still was a bit confused about that.
"Really,"Chuckled Xander, "A good lookin' guy like you doesn't have anyone?" Xander chuckled softly again and took a sip of his beer. Hunter blushed at Xander's comment. Why was he getting all flustered? This wasn't like him…
The guys talked for another hour or so before hunter said "Well it's getting late," He glanced at the time, 2:00 a.m.
"Aw. Does the little boy need his rest?" kidded Xander
"Shut up," retorted Hunter as he left the small bar with a smile on his face, something he hadn't experienced in a long time.
As hunter was walking down the alley-way, He was approached by some heavily intoxicated college guys.
"Give us your money faggot!" demanded the biggest guy of the group
Terrified, Hunter reached into his pocket to get his wallet, only to discover that he left it at the bar. He was screwed…
"Well," said the drunk buffoon with a heavily slurred voice, "Give us your money you emo fag!"
"I-I don't have any!" Hunter cried desperately, "Please believe me!"
"What a shame. What do you say we teach this fag a lesson guys?"
"Yah! Show this ass-hole who he's dealing with!" shouted one of the other members of the group.
The gang threw Hunter against the brick wall and before he had time to flinch, he was hit in the mouth by the biggest guy. It hurt like hell and Hunter could feel the rich blood run down his chin. Hunter went to cover his face in defense for another assault, but before he could, he was dropped to the ground and could hear running footsteps, getting quieter with every passing second. Confused, Hunter opened his eyes and looked up see all the intoxicated males fleeing the scene. There, before him, stood Xander. He had caught the men in the scene of the crime and punched the leader of the group right in the eye and it had scared off the rest Hunter's attackers.
"Didn't your mother tell you never to talk to strangers?" joked Xander."fist you leave your wallet in the bar and now ur getting urself thrown against wall? what would you do without me?" Xander let out his hand for Hunter to pull himself up.
"Shut up," retorted Hunter. He wiped a tear from his eye. He could never cry in front of another man.
Hunter stood up and whipped the blood from his mouth. The smile on Xander's face faded fast. He gave Hunter his jacket. "Come to my place, I'll give you some ice for your mouth," insisted Xander. Too tired to argue, Hunter let Xander drive him to his place, where he would give him some medical attention.
Xander's apartment was average. There was one bedroom, a living room, bathroom and kitchen. It was similar to Hunter's, but without all the drugs and ash trays lying around.
"Take a seat on the couch," said Xander searching through his freezer for an ice pack, "I'll get you something for your mouth."
Hunter sat on Xander's black leathercouch and waited for Xander, his lip still bleeding. "This should do the Trick," said He hopefully. Minutes past and the swelling had gone down in his lip, but it was still bleeding.
"Dammit," said Hunter, frustrated, "I hate people."
"I think I might have one other remedy for you," said Xander in his cool, calm voice. And before Hunter could ask what it was, Xander's lips were pressed against his. Xander's lips were warm and soothing. And when Hunter was released from Xander's kiss, he was speechless. All Xander did was smile.
"How was that?" said Xander in a calm, but seductive voice.
Hunter was in Shock, "B-but we're… we're both, m-men."
"So?" replied Xander, "That shouldn't matter. you are the only one i care about. Its been that way ever since we met." And before Hunter could protest anymore, Xander had locked lips with him again. But strangely, Hunter did not fight it. He actually went with it. For some reason, Xander's kiss felt, right. It was warm and made his body shiver. His kiss was better than any drug on the planet. But it was wrong! They are both men! So how could something so undeniably wrong, feel so undoubtedly right? But one thing was for sure, Xander's "remedy" had worked, his lip had stopped bleeding and he was no longer in pain.
This was the day that would change Hunter's life forever…
