A/N: A nice little scene between Matt and Light with some tension. Wooo, tension! Okay, well reviews are much appreciated. I'll definitely be a bit more...inspired.
Read, review, and enjoy!
Matt told me everything. Maybe it was the drugs that made him open up so much, and maybe it was the drugs that attracted me to his words. But his story captivated me. I wanted to be part of the continuation.
"About breakfast," Matt muttered, dropping another pill into his mouth. "Chris is my ex-boyfriend. Chris Liber. He's the reason Mello and I met, actually. He's Mello's age, and they were best friends since they were kids. Apparently, Mello's always been a bit of a girl. Anyway, we met four years ago at this club and we hit it off immediately. He was great, you know? He used to buy me all this shit. Flowers and chocolates. I thought he was perfect. I thought I was so damn lucky. He had his flaws, of course. He always seemed a bit on edge. Apparently it was because he was a damn drug addict. Not like me, like a real addict. He needed that shit to breathe.
"Well, he dragged me into his pitiful life. And I took the bait. For the first year of our relationship, I loved him. I fucking adored him. He was this angel, and I felt like a pathetic, weak, thing next to him. Then, he started running low on cash. I started to buy him the drugs, feed his addiction. And when I didn't, he'd get so mad at me. He'd turn red and scream, then cry and apologize. I bought it every time. I spent hundreds a week, until my father cut me off.
Then, it was just Chris and me. He became a fucking monster. A fucking monster, Light. He used to...he used to.."
Matt's breathing became shallow. He buried his forehead into his palms, rubbing his temple slowly. "Sorry. I don't know where that came from."
"It's alright."
We sat in silence, again. But Matt seemed to need it. I guess spilling your guts can do that to a person. I never had anything to spill before. Everything was simple for me, and I took it for granted. What else do you expect from someone who's been filthy rich their entire lives? I couldn't comprehend suffering or happiness. Maybe that's why I was so drawn to Matt; because he suffered, and he loved. I never loved before.
The stars twinkled around us and the crescent moon smiled down. The effects dragged me to this peaceful state, like everything was in sync. I nestled my cheek against the sand, inhaling the tiny particles. My parents used to take Sayu and I to the Hamptons. We'd build these tall sand castles and decorate them with shells and seaweed. And when the day was over, I let her stomp on them. I could never bring myself to. After a while, I stopped making the sand castles. It was illogical to build something just to tear it down. But Sayu continued to set them up every day. And every night, she'd destroy her creation. It made her happy. Happiness came easily to her.
"Do you wanna head home soon?"
"No," I breathed into the sand. "I like this. Fuck, I actually like this."
"Why's that a bad thing?"
Matt lay down besides me, watching as my hands formed fists. Sand hid between the crevices of my fingers. I breathed softly, listening to my heart beating in my ear. "I don't know," I finally answered. "Because I'm stoned."
"So?"
"It's pathetic when you can't have fun unless you're high."
Matt pursed his lips, turning on his side towards me. His red hair reflected a gray tint in the moonlight. Even then, it looked beautiful. "I don't think you know what fun is."
"What?" I sat up. "Sure I do."
"What's the most exciting thing you've ever done, besides this weekend, of course."
"When I was young, my sister and I explored this cave by the beach. We got lost for hours in the cave for hours. She kept crying, but it was fun. I felt like an explorer. And the cave was huge. I pretended a dragon lurked deep within the cave and waited for me to arrive. The farther we ventured, the more I enjoyed myself. Sayu was afraid, but I promised to fight off any monsters. She calmed down after a bit. Then, a coast guard found us. Apparently our parents were searching for us. So, we went home."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Suddenly, Matt wrapped his arms around my neck. He leaned in close and our lips lingered only inches apart. I breathed him in, tasting his ashy breath. He never kissed me, but he wanted to. Hell, a part of me wanted him to. His fingers wrapped in my shirt and his lips parted. But he never closed the gap. Instead, he just popped another pill.
"Fucking things are losing their effect," he muttered as he swallowed it.
The near kiss flustered me a bit. I caught my breath, though, and calmed my racing heart before I answered. "I still feel my first one pretty well."
"It barely effects me until around the third. I guess I've just grown accustom to them, or something. I don't know."
I almost expected to feel uncomfortable, like those awkward moments after someone rejects you (although I never had those before). But the aftermath of the near kiss never brought on anything negative. In fact, my heart pounded in my ear, aching for his touch. At the time, I thought it was horrible. I wanted to run far away and never look back, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The way he peered at me through his goggles in the moonlight caused my stomach to squeeze into my chest. The feelings were a new rush, a new fix. The feelings, and the drugs. And Matt had plenty of both.
We talked for a while, telling each other everything. He admitted he never had a serious relationship besides Chris. Before Chris, they seemed pointless, and after Chris, they seemed deadly. He said he wished he could muster the courage to commit, but it scared the hell out of him. I couldn't agree, though. Commitment was my life. I committed to my family, my friends, my school work, and my appearance (especially my appearance). He laughed, like it was the funniest thing he ever heard. It did sound shallow, after all. But I still cringed when he laughed.
"You're a weird guy, Light."
"How?"
He laughed some more, then told me about photography. Apparently 'capturing the world' reigned over 'fighting it'. Besides, he said, sometimes you can fight what's going on by just taking a picture. The truth can lead to chaos. The words nailed to my brain. We've been driven to be truth-tellers, every single one of us, but what comes out of it? Abrupt honesty without holding back? Does a woman really want to know if she looks fat in a dress? And isn't ignorance bliss?
Maybe that's why I was content with being unsatisfied. I never searched for satisfaction. I couldn't bear the idea of gaining it, only to lose it. For a long time, I figured happiness teased everyone. We got our moment, our one moment, of pure satisfaction, and all the rest were shit compared to it. So why strive for such a moment? I remained in my perfect prison simply to avoid living. If I didn't live, dying wouldn't be so bad.
"It's getting late."
"Do you want to leave?" Matt cocked his head. A thin smile ran across his lips.
"No. Do you?"
"Nah."
Matt lit a cigarette. Every time he inhaled, the cherry cast a red glow across his face and goggles. I watched him, unable to speak. The smoke poured from his lips, curling up his nose and joining the sky.
"You know," he muttered between pulls. "I never talk like this. To anyone. It's just weird, to actually just say it. You make it easy, though. You're a good listener. Much fucking better than Mello. Sometimes, I'm sure he thinks the whole world revolves around him. Don't get me wrong, I love him to death, but we can never just...talk."
"I know what you mean."
It was the truth. No matter how many people I surrounded myself with, none of them wanted to listen. I didn't blame them, either. Growing up how we did, you become self-centered. The world is your world, and everyone else is there to make you happy. It never bothered me before, though, because I never experienced anything else. But that night, Matt revealed the art of listening to me. I finally comprehended the definition of 'conversation.'
When I was young, I used to believe small talk meant conversing. Now I know small talk is nothing more than a pitiful attempt to connect to another person. Most of the time, it's forced conversation that neither participant wants to deal with, but has no choice. Either that, or the two are just so uncomfortable with each other that their relationship never gets past the shallow waters. At this point, I wanted to believe Matt and I were slowly wading to the deep end.
"Fuck," he suddenly murmured as his phone buzzed on his lap. Across the screen flashed the name 'Kyle.' "Hey what's up?...Sweet, me too, but, uh, I can't talk right now. I'll call you later tonight, okay? Yeah, bye."
He hung up and glanced towards me. "I've been seeing this guy for a few weeks."
The words stung. Was I just another person he fucked around with? He seemed so drawn to everyone he spoke to and had this way to make every feel loved. Had I just fallen for his act? The unusual, paranoid thoughts mustered through my mind, stirring into this uncomfortable self-doubt that I never faced before. But I maintained my composure. That's one thing I can thank my father for; my ability to mask any emotions stems from him.
"Oh." I didn't know how to respond. How could you when faced with such a strange, difficult situation? I decided not to allow myself to feel any jealousy or anger. I had a girlfriend and he had another guy. Probably not a boyfriend, but he's been seeing him for a while. We were on the same playing field. Besides, I was stoned and too relaxed to fester in my contempt.
"Yeah he's cool."
For the first time since I met Matt, the silence became unbearable. I stood up, dusting the sand from my hair and pants. "I think I'm going to go back."
"Wait, Light. It's not like that. Kyle's fun, but I don't have feelings for him. And I sure as fuck don't want to be in a relationship with him."
I turned, my voice a bit too calm as the words rushed from my mouth before I could stop them. "Then what do you want with me, Matt?"
"I think the better question is what do you want with me?"
I couldn't come up with an answer, which only frustrated me more. "I don't know. It doesn't matter, but let's just go, alright?"
"Light, what do you want with me?"
"Leave it alone, Matt."
He stood up beside me, just staring at me with his hands shoved in his vest. "Sorry," he mumbled through the cigarette dangling between his lips. "Yeah, we can head out. Wanna take the subway?"
I rarely took the subway, but I shrugged and followed him to the station located a few blocks away. I couldn't bring myself to say anything to him; the confrontation irked me. What did I want with Matt? The question gnawed at me, tearing and prodding at me. What did I want in general? I strayed from my life into some wild fantasy, a fantasy I couldn't control, dripping with lust and cravings.
Matt hoped down the stairs into the dingy yellow lights of the subway station below. I watched for a moment, suddenly hesitant to make the descent. But, he turned around and through his orange goggles, I caught a glimmer of something in his eyes. Although I couldn't recognize it at first, I started down the steps until I was next to him. He smiled at me and led me to he turnstiles.
Our fingers touched as he handed me his Metrocard. For a moment, we gazed at each other, and finally I followed him. Maybe living in a fantasy wasn't such a bad thing.
