Nathan handed his ID to the bartender. He was twenty-five years old, and he always seemed to have a look on his face like he had been through some trouble. Nathan said, "Give me the strongest thing you've got, I need it."
"Will a Long Island Iced Tea do?" asked the bartender. Nathan knew it was strong enough, so he nodded in agreement. While the bartender prepared the drink, he questioned, "So why the long face? Only twenty-five yet you look like you've been through a world of trouble."
After taking a sip of the drink, Nathan shrugged, "I guess I've been through a world of trouble."
"Wanna talk about it? You know, bartenders are notoriously good listeners." stated the bartender.
"Maybe later," replied Nathan. Over the time he spent drinking, Nathan grew wary. His thoughts drifted back to the time when he was twenty. He was halfway through his first year of college, and he had been dating his boyfriend for quite some time. Warren and Nathan had been together for over a year, and were sharing an apartment. When he had hard days dealing with his father, Warren was there to help him through. It was better than when he was in high school, but Sean Prescott was not the best father.
Nathan pulled himself back from the memory, looking down at his hand. He looking at the simple black band on his right index finger. A small ring, not the most expensive thing in the world. It was the one year anniversary gift from Warren, and he frowned as he looked over at his left hand, a shiny silver ring on his ring finger.
He slid the thing off, spinning it on the counter. The fact of the matter is that he never wanted that ring, and it wasn't his choice to have it. He slammed his hand down flat onto the ring, stopping the spinning. This was all this father's fault after all. Nathan would never forgive him.
Nathan slid the ring back onto his finger, rolling his eyes slightly as he did so. Drink gone, he waved to get the bartender's attention and slid him a tip. Standing up, a dizzying buzz hitting his head as he pulled out his phone, clicking his speed dial and pulling the phone to his ear, and all he said is "Yeah, will you get me? I'm at the bar on 8th street."
He then clicked his phone off, and made his way to the curb outside. He leaned against the wall, pulling out his sunglasses from his pocket. After sliding them on, he shut his eyes, and waiting for his ride to arrive. He didn't know how long has passed before he got shaken. A voice said, "Nathan, you can't keep calling me. And you can't keep wearing sunglasses in the dark, you look like an ass."
"Fucking hell I can't call Warren," replied Nathan, opening his eyes. "Can we just, go?"
"I'm taking you back to her," replied Warren, shaking his head as he started to lead the way to where he parked.
"Please, don't. You know I don't want this," begged Nathan, a certain amount of pain echoing through his voice. A dreary sadness that hurt him as he followed the only person who ever cared about him. He followed in silence until he reached Warren's old, beat up blue car that he couldn't fathom how it still ran. Once they were both inside, Nathan said, "You loved me."
Warren put the keys in the ignition as Nathan pulled off his sunglasses. Nathan was quiet, waiting for Warren to speak. It wasn't until they were out onto the road, that Warren replied, "Loving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. It was a great time, but it never could've lasted. You can't keep trying to get me back, your father will ream you. Your wife..."
"You know I don't give a shit about her. The only person I cared about is you. You're the only person who cared about me too," sharply replied Nathan. He took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, "It's all my father's fault. If he had understood. If he hadn't-"
"If he hadn't freaked out, beaten you up, and threatened me it'd be different?" finished Warren. Warren popped his lips, refusing to look over at Nathan. He knew he couldn't stay collected if he saw how distraught Nathan was. He couldn't put himself through this again. Warren said, "I'm taking you home. Stop calling me. Go hide in your closet, take over your father's company, and try to be happy."
"Fuck you," spat Nathan. "You must have never understood. I couldn't refuse. I'd lose everything."
"You picked everything you had and hated over the one thing you loved that could've become your everything," retorted Warren.
"You're breaking my heart here, can't we just try?" asked Nathan.
Warren pulled up to the Prescott mansion, stopping in front of the long driveway. He looked over at Nathan with a stern face. Warren bluntly said, "You don't have a heart to be broken anymore. You lost it when you became your father. Get out of my damn car and please, stay out of my life. It's better this way."
"I'm not my fucking father!" shouted Nathan as he got out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut. Before Warren could speed away, Nathan kicked the car as hard as he could. And just like that, he was left in the dust. Nathan fell to his knees, losing himself as he screamed, "You motherfucker! I'll never be my father! I love you! I'll always love you!"
With his hands to his face, Nathan began to sob. His body shook as he broke down. Warren was right, he didn't have heart to break anymore, after what just happened. It was just a mess of nerves that got stepped on like a bug. An agonizingly painful death to what kept him human just occurred and when the tears stopped what was left was a monster. Even if he could never admit it to himself, Nathan had become his father and nothing could stop him now.