Swirling. Pain. Hammering in my head. Wish it were a dream. Wish it would
all go away. Can't breathe. Need to get away.
"RIKU! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?"
A shrill, panicked female voice rang through the turbulent anger of the house, almost muffled by the pounding of boots and slamming open of a door.
"OUT!"
An older teen with silver-white hair returned in an equally loud voice. His strong, slim fingers pulled a black leather jacket off a peg on the wall as he slammed the door. Angrily, he shoved his fists into his pockets to wrap around a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He forcefully pulled one of the thin paper cylinders from its box and shoved it in his mouth. After a few flicks on his lighter, the end burned with a pale orange glow, and he snapped his hand away, taking a long drag.
"FUCK!"
Stop this pain. Can't live a lie. Can't be here. Need to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Need to forget. Need this to be a dream.
"Fuck."
He whimpered pitifully, holding back the tears that threatened to bleed from the corners of his eyes. He'd made it to the city; downtown, to be exact, and now he slid down against a lamp post, bathed in the impure glow of neon and lamplight. He heaved a deep sigh, one from the very pit of his being. This couldn't be real. It couldn't have happened. But it had. He knew it had. So he had to forget.
"Bar."
The young man picked himself off the ground, dusting at the seat of his jeans. Taking one last drag on his cigarette, he flicked it to the ground, rubbing it out with the toe of his boot. Sparks flew and faded like ephemeral fireflies into the dim puddle of light. He smirked silently and made his way down the crowded street.
A couple drunks meandered their way out of the small bar, throwing the door open as they laughed forcefully. The teen turned up the collar on his jacket as he shrugged off the obtrusive sound. One of the men knocked into his shoulder, but he let it go. Any other night he would've slugged the guy in the jaw, but tonight he wasn't in the mood for another confrontation.
The bartender looked up from the stein he was polishing as the youth took his seat on one of the old wooden stools. His heavy boots clanked against the brass pole near the floor as he hefted his elbows onto the counter and buried his hands in his hair.
"Rough night?" The older man asked gruffly, slamming the glass down on the wooden surface. The teen merely looked up at him with death in his eyes. The bartender scoffed. "So what'll it be?"
"Give me the strongest shit you've got in this Godforsaken hellhole." He muttered. Then, as an after thought, "make it a double."
"That bad, huh?" The burly man asked while pulling a particularly dangerous- looking bottle out from under the counter.
"And worse." The younger replied, running a hand up through his already disheveled hair. "They found out."
"Oh." He replied sympathetically. It was obvious by now that they knew each other. The bartender poured a shot and set it in front of the other. "I'm real sorry, Riku. You're a good kid. Stuff like this shouldn't happen to good people."
"This is all BULLSHIT, Ryuji!" Riku yelled, tossing back his shot. "They fucking CAUGHT US! I was going to die." His voice dropped at the end of his sentence and he held up his glass for another dose of the intoxicating poison.
Ryuji poured another, though with some reluctance. "Maybe you should go away for a while. Spend the night at Hideki's or something. Or with that Sora friend of yours."
"Maybe later." He sighed. "Right now I need to- - I need to clear my head." He swallowed the brown liquid, making a sour face as he did so.
"Well this stuff isn't gonna help any, Ri. C'mon, go somewhere else. You don't need to be he-" He was cut off by a thumping at the other end of the bar.
"HEY! Whadoesitaketagesomeservice'roundere?" an obviously drunken man called to anyone who would listen.
"Sorry, gotta go. But please, Riku, think about what I've said. If you'd only-" The pounding became louder and Ryuji eventually resigned to the man at the other end, leaving Riku with an empty shot glass. Being the regular he was, he leaned over the counter to reach for the bottle again and poured himself five or six more shots. About fifteen minutes later, he was completely out of it and Ryuji was trying to shove the drunkard out of his tavern.
"'ey! Gerroff meh, gerroff! Icnthrowmiself out!" Riku looked stupidly over at the scene; the man was trying desperately to hold onto the door while Ryuji (who was twice the other's size) tried to push him out.
The teen sighed again, longing for the day's events to have been some horrific nightmare, but he knew they weren't. Now everyone would know. He couldn't pretend anymore. But maybe he hadn't wanted to pretend in the first place. He merely had to, for both his and Hideki's sakes.
"Hey, babe. Need some cheering up?" Another young man interrupted Riku from his reverie. Bleary-eyed, Riku looked him over. Violet eyes flashed as ear- length black hair swished with his movements. He had a lean, tall build, and even with clothing one could tell he had well-toned muscles. His clothing complemented his coloring, as he wore an open button-down violet shirt, a ribbed black tank top and a pair of tight black jeans. A smirk formed on Riku's lips and he scoffed.
"What can you offer me?" He asked coldly, turning back to examine his empty glass.
"Mmm, well if you're gonna be rude about it-"
"Hey, do you wanna fuck me or not?" Riku returned, glaring daggers at the other man, who in turn leaned in seductively.
"Well, we certainly know what we want, now don't we?" He smiled, running a finger along the teen's jawline. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?"
"Shut up, talk is cheap. Let's go." He shot up from his seat but took a moment to steady himself, as he was quite thoroughly drunk by now. The man wrapped his arm around the teen's waist as they headed for the back exit. Ryuji, still struggling with the drunkard, saw the two leaving and immediately panicked.
"Riku!"
"Put it on my tab, Ryuji." Riku called back just as the door closed behind him.
Ryuji slumped his shoulders, looking worriedly at the closed wooden door on the other side of the small tavern. Then, with newfound strength he shoved the drunk out and slammed the front door, returning to his usual perch at the counter. He scrubbed the shot glass Riku had used and slammed the now nearly empty bottle back under the counter. Riku'd gotten himself into a right mess, he had. What would Hideki do when he found out?
"RIKU! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?"
A shrill, panicked female voice rang through the turbulent anger of the house, almost muffled by the pounding of boots and slamming open of a door.
"OUT!"
An older teen with silver-white hair returned in an equally loud voice. His strong, slim fingers pulled a black leather jacket off a peg on the wall as he slammed the door. Angrily, he shoved his fists into his pockets to wrap around a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He forcefully pulled one of the thin paper cylinders from its box and shoved it in his mouth. After a few flicks on his lighter, the end burned with a pale orange glow, and he snapped his hand away, taking a long drag.
"FUCK!"
Stop this pain. Can't live a lie. Can't be here. Need to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Need to forget. Need this to be a dream.
"Fuck."
He whimpered pitifully, holding back the tears that threatened to bleed from the corners of his eyes. He'd made it to the city; downtown, to be exact, and now he slid down against a lamp post, bathed in the impure glow of neon and lamplight. He heaved a deep sigh, one from the very pit of his being. This couldn't be real. It couldn't have happened. But it had. He knew it had. So he had to forget.
"Bar."
The young man picked himself off the ground, dusting at the seat of his jeans. Taking one last drag on his cigarette, he flicked it to the ground, rubbing it out with the toe of his boot. Sparks flew and faded like ephemeral fireflies into the dim puddle of light. He smirked silently and made his way down the crowded street.
A couple drunks meandered their way out of the small bar, throwing the door open as they laughed forcefully. The teen turned up the collar on his jacket as he shrugged off the obtrusive sound. One of the men knocked into his shoulder, but he let it go. Any other night he would've slugged the guy in the jaw, but tonight he wasn't in the mood for another confrontation.
The bartender looked up from the stein he was polishing as the youth took his seat on one of the old wooden stools. His heavy boots clanked against the brass pole near the floor as he hefted his elbows onto the counter and buried his hands in his hair.
"Rough night?" The older man asked gruffly, slamming the glass down on the wooden surface. The teen merely looked up at him with death in his eyes. The bartender scoffed. "So what'll it be?"
"Give me the strongest shit you've got in this Godforsaken hellhole." He muttered. Then, as an after thought, "make it a double."
"That bad, huh?" The burly man asked while pulling a particularly dangerous- looking bottle out from under the counter.
"And worse." The younger replied, running a hand up through his already disheveled hair. "They found out."
"Oh." He replied sympathetically. It was obvious by now that they knew each other. The bartender poured a shot and set it in front of the other. "I'm real sorry, Riku. You're a good kid. Stuff like this shouldn't happen to good people."
"This is all BULLSHIT, Ryuji!" Riku yelled, tossing back his shot. "They fucking CAUGHT US! I was going to die." His voice dropped at the end of his sentence and he held up his glass for another dose of the intoxicating poison.
Ryuji poured another, though with some reluctance. "Maybe you should go away for a while. Spend the night at Hideki's or something. Or with that Sora friend of yours."
"Maybe later." He sighed. "Right now I need to- - I need to clear my head." He swallowed the brown liquid, making a sour face as he did so.
"Well this stuff isn't gonna help any, Ri. C'mon, go somewhere else. You don't need to be he-" He was cut off by a thumping at the other end of the bar.
"HEY! Whadoesitaketagesomeservice'roundere?" an obviously drunken man called to anyone who would listen.
"Sorry, gotta go. But please, Riku, think about what I've said. If you'd only-" The pounding became louder and Ryuji eventually resigned to the man at the other end, leaving Riku with an empty shot glass. Being the regular he was, he leaned over the counter to reach for the bottle again and poured himself five or six more shots. About fifteen minutes later, he was completely out of it and Ryuji was trying to shove the drunkard out of his tavern.
"'ey! Gerroff meh, gerroff! Icnthrowmiself out!" Riku looked stupidly over at the scene; the man was trying desperately to hold onto the door while Ryuji (who was twice the other's size) tried to push him out.
The teen sighed again, longing for the day's events to have been some horrific nightmare, but he knew they weren't. Now everyone would know. He couldn't pretend anymore. But maybe he hadn't wanted to pretend in the first place. He merely had to, for both his and Hideki's sakes.
"Hey, babe. Need some cheering up?" Another young man interrupted Riku from his reverie. Bleary-eyed, Riku looked him over. Violet eyes flashed as ear- length black hair swished with his movements. He had a lean, tall build, and even with clothing one could tell he had well-toned muscles. His clothing complemented his coloring, as he wore an open button-down violet shirt, a ribbed black tank top and a pair of tight black jeans. A smirk formed on Riku's lips and he scoffed.
"What can you offer me?" He asked coldly, turning back to examine his empty glass.
"Mmm, well if you're gonna be rude about it-"
"Hey, do you wanna fuck me or not?" Riku returned, glaring daggers at the other man, who in turn leaned in seductively.
"Well, we certainly know what we want, now don't we?" He smiled, running a finger along the teen's jawline. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?"
"Shut up, talk is cheap. Let's go." He shot up from his seat but took a moment to steady himself, as he was quite thoroughly drunk by now. The man wrapped his arm around the teen's waist as they headed for the back exit. Ryuji, still struggling with the drunkard, saw the two leaving and immediately panicked.
"Riku!"
"Put it on my tab, Ryuji." Riku called back just as the door closed behind him.
Ryuji slumped his shoulders, looking worriedly at the closed wooden door on the other side of the small tavern. Then, with newfound strength he shoved the drunk out and slammed the front door, returning to his usual perch at the counter. He scrubbed the shot glass Riku had used and slammed the now nearly empty bottle back under the counter. Riku'd gotten himself into a right mess, he had. What would Hideki do when he found out?
