Suddenly Moritz was hyper-aware of his surroundings he panics yes very much so , he scratches his messy hair, he wipes his forehead, " yes definitely, I'm dead ." it was an old bike, but he still worried, to know what his father might say.

" And here I am again worrying about what he might think."

He can feel his hand become clammy, he might also look strange just standing there with no reaction.

He felt helpless

Until a voice called out his name in surprise

"Moritz?"

"Melchior!" Moritz jumped

"You look as pale as a ghost" he chuckles

Moritz inverted his eyes to the bike stand

And in a almost too calm tone replied

"Someone stole my bike"
"Really! Your old one? Who would steal that thing?" he teases

Moritz surprisingly laugh lightly at that remark, but still continues on the fact that his comment wasn't funny

"What am I going to do? What should I do? Melchi?"

" I say forget that old death trap, I find it good that it was stolen, it's about time. That thing tried to kill you more then once you know."

"Oh yeah like when we were in the sevens grade... em well I guess I'll walk home and face my father."

Moritz swallowed back his fear, he knew that he wouldn't be able to find the person who did this anyway, he wasn't about to try, too stressful. And maybe Melchior was right,

Good riddance to that rusty memory.

Melchior offered to walk with him since they live close to each other, It's a small town after all.

Moritz felt hesitant but they would be walking the same way anyway. And innerly he longed to relive the memories of them walking home after school together. Moritz freaking out about something or another, asking odd questions or thinking mournful ideas. Melchior lecturing how the school system is broken, how religion is ridiculous, always passionately talking about things that even Melchior didn't know much about. Moritz loved listening and always tried to understand where Melchior was coming from, questioned him at times but not often, he wonders how it would be if Melchior knew that he had more Ideas and opinions that he led on.

Melchior was used to Moritz being quiet.. He used to be much more spastic and louder when he was fourteen, but something changed

They both.. didn't know what

As they walk without saying a word for at least ten minutes, Moritz glances at his friend a couple of times. He doesn't know if it was his face or just the silence itself that was saying "Hey I would really want to know what between you and Wendla!" Because Melchior finally breaks this uncomfortable silence. And says

"So I'm guessing you want to know why Wendla and I broke up?"

Moritz lights up

"Oh.. ahh-only if you want to talk about it."

Melchior lets out a genuine chuckle

" it's fine you goof, how long have I known you Moritz? Ten years?"

Melchior could tell that Moritz felt more comfortable now, it was the right choice of words. He had a knack of picking theright choice of words

"Wendla and I, we really liked each other, I mean we got close.. Real close, we even well slept together."

Moritz was taken back by the sudden confession. But continued to listen to his friend

"I guess her parents didn't like the idea of us dating or whatever, that was part of it. And maybe some people can like each other, but ultimately do not work out.."

"So you b-broke up with her?"

Melchior gave a calm yet sad look

"Nah.. she broke up with me."

Moritz could not believe it for one second. Melchior was always a ladies man, he would hardly think that any girl would break up with him. They admired him. Or maybe that was the problem, they saw what they wanted to see. A handsome, smart. Witty young man. They would be so blinded by that image that they would not realize that Melchior has a lot of flaws. Flaws that Moritz knows a lot about..

"Ohh I'm sorry." He says gently with a voice crack

" It's fine. I really liked her. If I had to be honest I was quite upset. But I know that I'm not perfect, and I guess she was just too perfect for me.." Melchior gives a light laugh. And nudges Moritz

Indicating that everything is fine

"But you are still friends?"

"Yes! Indeed, we are much better friends than lovers."

He teases

Moritz cracks a small smile. "Well I'm sorry was wasn't there to witness your heartbreak."

"It would have been a mess."

They both chuckle lightly

"Well I'm sure that she won't be the only girl to waltz into your life. Love sure does "love" following you."

Melchior was surprised of how witty Moritz was being, cracking these jokes it made him feel like he was becoming more comfortable with him, and that's what he was hoping for.

But all good things have to end for Melchior response left an empty feeling within Moritz's stomach.

" Well, I don't think I believe in love that much."

With that there was once again that uncomfortable silence, he could swear that Melchior noticed the shift as well, and looked guilty in a saddle way. But their steps finally lead them to Moritz's house and they said their goodbyes. Moritz felt light, like all of this is just a strange dream. Or even that his past was all a strange dream and this was reality. When he entered his house, he was glad his father was still not home, he'd rather skip the formality today, hell he'd rather skip the whole dinner process if he could. He ran up the stairs to his room and slammed the door. He felt as if during the day, he convinced himself that everything was going pretty well, but then he looked back at himself, and started cringing of how naive he was, so out of touch. He wanted to go back when he was at middle school. Where girls were girls and the boys where boys, too shy to speak to one another, to young to understand. But at the same time all he remembers is his first wet-dream. His confusion. Melchior's mocking laugh,

His touch.

Moritz personally could not take it anymore. He laid there looking up to his ceiling. He didn't want to take a nap, for the fear of having strange dreams was a tiring thought. And finally his father came home.. Moritz felt like he could never get a break.

Melchior's words echoed through his head all night. "What the hell does he mean he doesn't believe in love?" He had no idea why this bothered him so much but it did. It made him angry, and the same time he felt pitiful. Like he was trying to find an answer to an impossible question. He didn't want this. He never asked for this. This indescribable feeling that he gets when he sees his best friend. The feeling he gets when he is alone with his past, remembering that relieving feeling of knowing that all of this might end. It was like his empty pit of existence was always catching up to him. Every time he wakes up, every time he talks to his father. Every time he is doing his homework and still can figure out the answer. Every single time Melchior greets him in the morning. He closed his eyes, and once again he was hunted by a pair of woman's legs. Which oddly mid-dream turned into a vision of Melchior's smile.

Birds were chirping by his window a ray of sunlight peers through his room. It was morning and what a morning indeed. Mornings like this Moritz Stiefel hated more then anything more the he hated himself. And that was waking up hard. One thing about having wet-dreams is that either you wake up and everything is already solid, or you're just getting there.

Like lightning he runs to the bathroom and takes a cold-shower, this routine was almost too common for his liking. Though he knew he wasn't late for school now, his erection woke him up much too early for his health, but he'd rather do this, then. Well "take care of it" the fear of thinking about... strange things about his dreams would make him not just feel guilty beyond belief, but a terrible friend as well.

His whole body felt sensitive by any touch. He was whimpering to himself, he hated being like this. Frankly he was too tired and too cranky too feel horny. Even thinking about the word "Horny" made his skin crawl he hated the word.

Eventually he calmed down. Got out of the shower got dressed and ate breakfast.

His father gave him a stern look, and Moritz felt fear creep within him.

"Oh shit! Oh no! Did he find out about the bike?" he thought to himself in panic.

Luckily his father only said "Remember Moritz Church is on Sundays, so no matter what plans you have made, you are going."

Though moritz hated going to church. He was utterly relieved that, it was not about the bike. He was hoping his father wouldn't notice until he has moved out. Which was highly unlikely

His day was average to say the least, same old, same old. Moritz having a panic attack, Melchior making witty remarks about the school system, Ilza doing something out of the ordinary. Hans flirting with everybody but Ernst to make him jealous, Moritz assumes. Though Moritz did feel a bit agitated by this morning. Because he hates this everlasting confusion. That faded slowly as the day went by.

A week and five days goes by, and suddenly everything is starting to feel more relaxed. Kinda like the old days. But still his father's shadows lurking in the corner of Moritz Stiefel's mind. He started studying again with Melchior after school, as soon as he heard that there will be a test in the end of the week in latin and math. There was only one thing to do and that was study with his best friend. In English though he wasn't too worried.

Moritz started to feel like nothing ever happened, even his haunting dreams started to calm down as well. Or maybe it was all the sleep medication he was taking. But a perfect life was never made for our young protagonist of this story. Therefore drama must pursue.

It was Friday at lunchtime when Moritz was asked by Melchior to come with him to Hanschen's party. It was also that same afternoon that Moritz said "No" to Melchior's request.

"Moritz! Come on, It will be fun I promise!"
"I don't know Melchior.. You know me. Me plus parties equals disaster"

Melchor gave him a sincere look

"Moritz, we are sixteen know. Nothing could go wrong. Moderately."

Moritz sighs knowing that eventually he will give in. but with his dear life he tried his best to be stubborn

"Plus I will be there... And Ilsa well be there." He winked at Moritz as if that Ilsa being there was supposed to lure him to the party.

Moritz rolled his eyes not wanting to know why Melchior thinks that he has a crash on Ilsa. He did once in middle school, but that was so long ago.

Melchior poked his rib cage and it made him jump a bit.

He gave that unrelenting smirk, that drove Moritz crazy some days, and numb others

He sighed with defeat "Fine"

Melchior gave Hanschen a thumbs up across the room, didn't make a difference, he seemed unimpressed

"But, yo-you have to promise me that you will not wander off and get laid the minute I turn away."

"Aww, that hurts Moritz." He said teasingly.

Melchior ruffled his friends hair. "You can't deny nature taking it's course my old friend. If the universe says I must get laid. I can't go against it."

Everything seems to be fine. But in Moritz's mind he was falling down a deep dark pit of anxieties. A party is a party, his father can't find out of course. Also what will he wear? And how should he act? Hopefully it won't be too wild for him.

"But knowing my luck."