Over the next couple of weeks, we spent together most of our free time. For some reason, it appeared that my father did not mind me spending time with Hidan; if he did know who I was ging out with, I supposed that he simply assumed that I finally found a friend and, although I surely haven't 'maned up' in his eyes, I wasn't getting on his nerves as much as I used to. Hence, I considered myself quite lucky, especially that it appeared that Brandon hasn't told Hidan anything yet. Of course, I did feel Brandon's gaze on my back at school, and no, I I was not sure why he hasn't said a word, but there was nothing I could do about it; about it or the two times, when he wanted me to wait for him after school, and I knew that was a request that simply needed to be fulfilled. Only then, I could pretend that everything was starting to be normal again, with a fake smile, a new layer of makeup and a long sleeve shirt. Apart from that, occasional anxiety and probably only one major panic attack, I was just fine – waiting for the catastrophe to happen.
In the meantime, I began the process of redefining the meaning of trust. After spending a few another nights at Hidan's place, I slowly started distinguishing the daily routine and the daily lethargy. The difference between coming home and coming at Hidan's place planted a new sensation, similar to awareness of the reality, in my mind. Although I haven't been beaten up in a few days, the usual life under the threat had to accept a new, weirdly calm, state of mind which occurred when I was with Hidan.
The only thing that concerned me about the albino was his undeniably considerable impact on me and my feelings. Strangely, I quickly accepted him as my friend – my only friend and, therefore, assumingly the best friend I have ever had. The only issue was that I wasn't good at feeling. Sometimes, when I looked at him, I wondered who he actually was: was he a friend, my private counsellor?A partner? I felt insecure about the unknown; my own lack of understanding of human relationships filled me with both irritation and shame. After all, though, what should I expect?
One Friday, Hidan insisted on meeting up with some people from our class. He was aware of that we didn't get along but I did realise that he couldn't always be just with me; especially on a Friday night. Besides, I already recognised this as one of his characteristics: the confidence. He always wanted to have an influence on people and wasn't afraid to say what he believed in. Therefore, he thought that the vision of me going out with his friends was a way to prove to them I was worth something. As much as I respected that, I still found that unnecessary. On the other hand, I didn't want to say no. Hidan was well aware of my social discomfort and I could only suppose it would be the best for me to overcome it, especially that once he started to brag about a pub where he already got to know one of the bouncers and would surely convince him to let the very not-18-year-old me in, I knew there was no point in trying to discourage him from going there. Sometimes I envied him the indifference and obliviousness, another time I would just admit that it wouldn't need much to be so oblivious - one would only need not to be me to cherish it.
As we met Jordan, Norbert, Maria and Bryony, I knew I needed more than a pint to survive. I glimpsed at the group, unwittingly comparing myself to them. Both the girls' outfit consisted of a crop top, high-waisted jeans and a black choker and I thought they couldn't add anything else to that self-proclaimed basic bitch look. Maria looked better, though, as she had, as always, flowers in her bubblegum hair and makeup that complimented her pale carnation. Bryony seemed more desperate, clearly believing that the more makeup, the better, even if that meant having a brown and golden mask instead of skin. Jordan and Norbert were, indeed, just typical lads – brunets, dressed in jeans and immortal Ralph Lauren t-shirts. Jordan, although younger than Norbert, always seemed to be the older one; he was taller and more muscular than his friend. Norbert was almost as skinny as me and had a well-groomed beard. I, on the other hand, looked like from a different story, in black skinny trousers, burgundy creepers, black long sleeve shirt and, alike Hidan, a leather jacket. My hair was tied up, makeup done; nothing new in that matter. I was wondering if other people could feel my uneasiness; as I only managed to mumble an awkward "Hi" before Hidan started joking around, I took Hidan's tendency to chatting with gratitude. I quietly followed him as we head to the bar, and peered at him once he was uninhibitedly making some innuendos about drinking games, somewhere, sometime, somehow.
As he was already 18, he ordered drinks for me and Bryony as we were the only ones who still were officially only juveniles. I ordered Jack Daniels with diet coke, while Hidan casually chose vodka with energy drink. The girls went for some fancy cocktails, and both Jordan and Norbert opted for cider. As we sat down, Hidan and Maria were already laughing. She was asking Hidan about German girls and I couldn't help but smirk, wondering what she would do to find a way to his bed.
My participation in the meeting was restricted to desultory responses to most noncommittal topics where I wasn't the one to do the talking. After my third drink, I actually felt much more positive about the whole meeting being the one who could be a comfortable listener, socialising in his own introvert way. No one seemed to mind and the only thing I was always truly grateful for was the inability of other people to read in my mind as that was the only place where I was truly free, where I could say whatever I wanted.
After less than a couple of hour and three more cocktails, Maria and Bryony were certainly drunk. That actually matched what I heard about them – they just liked getting drunk and go crazy in an attractive companionship. I peered at Hidan, who certainly had fun looking at them. To be honest, I was quite surprised that he didn't look wasted himself; he and Jordan already went for Jagerbombs and Jordan already seemed to regret that. I was sipping a snake bite*, subtly turning into the opposite to Maria and Bryony. Drunk, I was usually quiet and either numb or emotional, depending on the people around me.
Around midnight, Hidan called the taxi for Maria and Bryony; although they insisted they could walk home or, more willingly, follow Hidan, to my relief, the albino didn't think it was a good idea. I couldn't hide my satisfaction when I faced Maria's hazy eyes.
"You're okay?" Hidan murmured, suddenly looking down on me. I nodded, hoping I didn't seem too drunk. That was the weird habit of mine: being overly afraid to look drunk, or just even more vulnerable than I actually was.
"Are you going to Liquid?" Asked Jordan.
"Nah, mate… Are we?" Hidan peered at me inquiringly. I shook my head firmly; going to a club was on the long list of things I absolutely hated.
"Right then, I think we're going there, maybe I'll get lucky tonight." Norbert winked, turning to Jordan.
"Good luck then," Hidan chuckled.
"Was nice seeing you," exclaimed Jordan. "…aaaand you, flower," the brunet added enthusiastically, waving at me with a wide smile.
I muffled a giggle and cleared my throat. "You too, hm." I looked as they were going away, slowly disappearing in the dense beauty of the late autumn night.
"They're fucking mad," Hidan declared, still laughing. "I'll leave it to them. Coming at my place, yeah?"
I nodded, following the albino like a ghost. I knew I was more than tipsy and he had to know but – oh well, it wasn't the first time he saw me drunk so I didn't really care.
The night was beautiful; sweet-smelling cold darkness, sky freckled with stars. Although it was still the beginning of November, winter was in the air. The warmth of my body fuelled by alcohol met the cold breath of wind, and it didn't take much time till I started shivering. Luckily, Hidan's home wasn't too far away.
Hidan must have noticed that I was trembling. "Are you cold?" He asked.
"Nah, I'm fine," I mumbled, for some reason hoping that he would feel I was bluffing.
"Nah, you're cold," Hidan chuckled, giving me a firm hug.
"Hidan," I whined, yet deciding not to reject the unexpected source of warmth.
Once we got home, Hidan went straight to the kitchen.
"What do you want?", he shouted while I sat down on the sofa in the living room.
So, the night is not going to end just now, I thought with a smile. Being awake in the middle of the night tended to make me anxious as it was usually an effect of insomnia. Only spending time around Hidan started slowly learning me a different way of perceiving certain occurrences. I never took it for granted.
Two hours later, still awake, I felt unbearably emotional. The soft side of drunk me made its presence felt. I hardly heard Hidan discussing his history with his ex; I was in my own world. I was recalling different events from my life; the time when my mother died, the night when my father hit me with a bottle because a kid stole my pencil case in primary school. The time when my stomach hurt so much I didn't sleep all night because I was afraid that I would never wake up. The time when Brandon raped me for the first time, and the time when he recorded all of this, casually mentioning that he will publish it online if I say a word.
I knew I shouldn't have; I knew it didn't matter if I was thinking about it or not, I knew all of that. It didn't matter. I didn't matter, did I?
Maybe that was why, deep down, I didn't like to drink.
I should have known better, I thought, trying to fight off a panic attack slowly taking control over the scraps of my rational thinking.
"Deidara, are you okay?", Hidan's voice reminded me of the albino's presence.
"What? Um, yeah…" I stammered hesitantly.
"Are you still cold?" The albino glanced at my long sleeves.
"Wh… what? No, no, it's really warm in here," I replied swiftly, jumping away in a vehement manner.
"So why are you always wearing long sleeves? Man, I want to see you in summer. I can see that now, actually: 30 degrees, drought, and there you are, in a jacket and hands in your pockets." His comment made me wonder – what excuse would I come up with in summer? I've never had anyone to explain myself to before. Pathetic.
"Because people would see me," I answered ironically, weirdly angered.
"What do you mean?"
"People would see what I look like," I said. My anxiety was combining with frustration. For some reason, I didn't feel numb anymore; I was enraged. I was sad. I was tired. "And this is not something everyone can see."
Without thinking, I stood up and took off my shirt, exposing my pale chest speckled with bruises, scratches, wounds. I stood like this for a few long moments, not saying a word. I wasn't looking at Hidan, I wasn't looking at the ceiling, I wasn't looking anywhere. For once, I felt like someone had to look at me, the truest one anyone could get. I could hear my own breath, and I felt tears in my eyes. I tried my best to hold them back, trying not to drown in the silence around me.
After a while, or maybe an eternity, I heard Hidan's voice, weirdly husky, bewildered, "What the hells is this, Deidara? What the…"
"No, it's not my father. Not just him," I interrupted him ironically, and that was the end of me. I broke down, falling on the sofa.
"It was never just him."
Never.
Hands trembling, universe spinning. I want to get out, get out, t. Hands spinning, universe trembling; t.
But, unfortunately, I do know you won't understand.
*in the UK, snake bite is a mixture of lager and blackcurrant cordial. It's quite a killer combination that usually will make you drunk (very) quickly.
Thank you for reading.
/We're getting somewhere. I am at the point where nearly all the remaining chapters are already written and I can't believe it as much as Deidara doesn't buy your makeup./