His feet padded along on the wet pavement, other than the speeding cars in the residential area it was quiet and he was alone. He didn't mind not having someone to talk to as he walked. The air was damp from the recent rains and his mind wandered elsewhere. It was his junior year and he had fucked up his entire school career. Not that he really cared about that sort of thing, but his drunk of a father was pissed at him. His dark brown hair covered half his face, as if he was trying to hide some unsightly feature from the world. His stripped olive green and orange hat kept his hair in place.

He crosses the street, the bottom of his pants dragging through a puddle soaking up the frigid water. His hands were shoved in his sweatshirt pocket to keep them from the cold air. A car beeped when he stepped out in front of it. He didn't pay much mind to it as he kept his gaze on the black pavement in front of him. The driver shouted obscenities and Zane flipped him off, only to then continue his journey.

It didn't take long for him to arrive at his final destination; the quaint house was the American dream. The white picket fence, the cute blue shutters, the lush green lawn. He opened the latch on the gate and walked through up to the door, he knocked three times. It took a moment before a blond boy answered the door. The boy looked at him with a confused expression on his face. "Aren't you in my shop class?" He asked him.

He shrugged his shoulder. "Yeah, you're Sampson right?"

The blond nodded his head slowly. "Why are you at my house?" Sampson was giving him a look like he'd just grown three heads.

"I need to see your brother" His tone was flat, he didn't really care what Sampson thought of him, he was just another blip on the high school radar. He probably didn't even remember him. They used to be friends when they attended Elementary School but when they graduated and went on to Middle School they began to realize how different they were and drifted apart.

Sampson was a jock. He was the starting Corner Back on the football team, he was the first baseman on the baseball team, he wanted to play basketball but it interfered with his schedule. Sampson's parents controlled his life. They watched his brother throw his life away so they felt the need to steer Sampson down the correct path. He partook in after school clubs, sports, he wrote for the school newspaper, and he did volunteer work in his free time.

"Hn. Whatever Zane, just come in and sit down, he's not home right now but he should be any minute" Sampson moved aside to let Zane have room to enter the home. It was worse than Zane thought. White walls adorned with happy pictures of happy families doing happy activities. There was so much color and so much of the one expression it hurt his eyes. It hadn't changed a bit since he had his last sleep over with Sampson when he was nine.

Zane hurried down the hallway and into the living room. It was the only room that wasn't bright enough to make you feel the need to squint. He plopped down on the worn down dark purple couch and propped his feet up on the foot rest. Just like home. A soft smile touched his lips as he thought about the memories he had in this room. Wrestling on the floor for the last Bagel Bite, playing video games till the sun came up. Sampson plopped down beside him, the movement jerked Zane back from his trip down memory lane. Sampson didn't say a word as he flipped the T.V. on to the game between the Colts and the Cowboys.

They watched the game for a few minutes and when the commercial came Zane decided to say something "You can't really like all that shit can you? Muscle men tackling each other on the field? All they do is run back and fourth, how could you possibly find that interesting?"

Sampson gave Zane a look of disbelief and horror. Was it possible that there was someone who didn't like football? "Dude, it's the Colts. That's my team. I haven't missed a Colts game since I was thirteen. There's more to it than running back and forth, and tackling each other to the ground. It's the spirit of it. Returning to natural instincts, mauling the other team, hearing the crowd screaming. It's intoxicating."

"Until you get attacked by a three-hundred pound guy and you break your back. Yup. Real intoxicating." Zane sat up on the purple couch and placed his feet back down on the wooden floor. This was going to turn into an argument. They were just too different to even be able to agree on something a simple as football.

Sampson paused. Had he never realized how hurt one could get playing football? Surely he's seen his friends leave the field in ambulances. Sampson looked at Zane before turning his attention back to the television screen; apparently he didn't feel like arguing at the moment. That was fine with Zane, he liked the quiet, though, sometimes it's hard to think about things with a screaming crowd attacking your ear drums.

Zane heard the door closed. Saved by the druggie. Gregory passed by the room and glanced in, he cocked an eyebrow at the scene and Zane immediately stood from his seat. "It was… uh… nice talking to you again Sampson." Sampson looked up for a moment before returning his gaze to the game. Gregory motioned for Zane to come with him and they made their way to his room in silence.

Band posters littered the pale white walls, and clothes lay scattered on the floor and bed. If Zane decided to look hard enough he probably could have found a new organism in the strange habitat. "Sit." Gregory ordered. That was the one thing Zane didn't like about him, he always thought he was just allowed to give orders.

Zane sat down obediently on the edge of Gregory's bed. Gregory walked across the room and pushed some clothes off the top of a dark green box, it could have once been an intricately painted hope chest, but it was nothing more than a shabbily painted wooden box when Gregory had gotten through with it. He flung open the top and rummaged around inside. Zane craned his neck to get a look inside, he realized that the big box held a number of smaller boxes, who would have thought?

Gregory plucked a box from the chest and walked back over to Zane and sat down next to him. Zane looked at him for a moment, he had never realized how much like Sampson he looked. They had the same dirty blonde hair, although Greg's was longer, they almost had the same build, though… Sampson was stronger, lifting weights will do that to you, it was some thing about the eyes. The color, the depth. He handed Zane the box.

He held it for a moment before unlatching the small latch and peering inside. It held a few substances. There was a bag of shrooms –how fun–, it held a few tablets of ecstasy – ah, so Gregory heard about the rave, nice –, a few unidentified pills littered the bottom of the box – not knowing what you were taking, awesome.

Zane sat there for a moment, he knew what came next. Zane's hat was plucked from his head leaving his hair to be an unruly mess. Hot breath came in contact with the tender flesh of his neck and soft lips followed soon afterward. Fingers on his hand walked up his leg and came to rest on his inner thigh, another hand pressed lightly on his chest as he fell all the way back onto the bed. Gregory never would accept money from Zane, he forced him to pay in 'other' ways. Zane hated it.

Zane had never felt any attraction towards Gregory, but he needed his fix. The same thing happened every time Zane went to Gregory, Gregory would give him what he asked for, plus a little more then Zane would end up on the bed missing some important pieces of clothing. It was almost enough to make a guy quit using.

It only took a brief moment before Gregory was on top of Zane and had captured his lips in a rough, demanding kiss. Zane grumbled, he couldn't do this right now. The situation was unnerving. Normally it's just Gregory home so no one can discover what's occurring behind locked doors, but with Sampson down stairs watching the game… Zane… he just couldn't do it. He placed both his hands on Gregory's chest and shoved, the force caused Gregory to roll off him on to the messy bed.

Zane sat up and sighed angrily "Just take the fucking money, I don't have time for your shit today." Zane abruptly stood from the bed and tugged a wad of money from his pocket and tossed it next to Gregory. "That's more than enough." He went to snatch the box from the bed but someone's hand beat him to it. Zane snapped his gaze up to look at Gregory's face. He was not happy. He stood up from the bed, the box in hand and took a deep breath. "Give me the box." He demanded.

Gregory acted like a spoiled child at times, which was dangerous, because it means he's unpredictable. "Zane. Get back on the bed." Gregory ordered. Normally Zane would have abided, but at the moment, he was fuming. He had made an attempt to stay away, but he'd been with out anything for a week. What ever those pills in the bottom were, they were addictive, he was going through withdrawals.

"Gregory. Give me the fucking box so I can leave!" He had raised his voice, he heard the volume on the television go down. Shit. Sampson was trying to listen in. Gregory clenched his teeth together to keep from lashing out, he failed. He through the box against the wall as hard as he could. It broke open, small splinters of wood fell to the floor and the contents spilled out.

"Get on the bed Zane." Gregory's voice was eerily calm. Zane let the silence fill the room for a minute, he heard foot steps heading up the stairs. Zane narrowed his eyes and turned around and opened the bed room door.

Leaving the door open he turns around to face Gregory. "Go fuck yourself." He said before walking out and slamming the door shut. A shocked and worried Sampson stood at the top of the stairs. Zane gave him a single glance, his eyes were still burning with anger. He would have hit Gregory… if he wasn't positive that Gregory would stab him.

Zane shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed passed Sampson on his way down the stairs. "What the hell is going on?" Sampson asked, Zane ignored him and silently hurried towards the door and out onto the wet streets. He glanced back over his shoulder only to see Gregory looking out his window. He quickly turned his head forward and let his gaze lock with the glistening pavement.