Anesthesia
Sometimes Nathan wondered why he was always so negative – in fact, everything was absolutely great, right?! Well, yes, Warren had beaten him up, but Nathan hadn't fought back, right? That was because he hadn't wanted to hit him – or had he hit him? Nathan didn't remember, but whatever he had done, it had probably been the right thing. Nobody messed with a Prescott!
… Warren was so beautiful, so hot, Nathan wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him until he passed out, and then he would photograph him, frame him in every corner of his and Mark's Dark Room, and then hang his pictures onto the walls of his dorm room. Nathan sensed a warm feeling spreading out in his body, like balloons flying up in the air, and he grinned. His body got lifted up and didn't belong to Nathan anymore, and he observed what it was up to. Sometimes, his body felt like dancing, then it felt like laying on the ground, feeling the cold floor, getting covered in the wood. Nathan looked into the mirror, and even though he couldn't see shit, he knew what a un-fucking-believably fantastic looking bastard he was facing. Warren wouldn't be able to resist Nathan's seductions, and Max, that stupid bitch, wouldn't be his main hoe anymore.
Nathan felt his face, and it was so intense. Right at this moment, he was able to feel every inch of his body, and then again, he didn't feel anything at all. He looked up. Shit, his paperback film was a masterpiece. Nathan was an artist, a creator, so much more than everybody thought of him. Than Sean always thought.
What was Nathan just thinking about?
… Warren! He would drag him into the shower and suck his dick, and Warren would take him from behind and do him, fuck yes. Rachel Amber was such a twee slut, she did really think she could mess with him, but Nathan's photos were special and not everybody had the chance to be on his lens. Christ, Mark was such a sex god, and even though Nathan loved Warren and shit, he had a huge crush on Mark. He knew that Mark wanted to mack with him, everybody did. Once Nathan had gotten a boner when he'd been laying next to him, in his bed, feeling his strong back. Mark was his god, his savior, the most perfect man, who ever existed. Nathan wanted to open his pants and jerk off to him again, but then he realized that he didn't wear pants.
What did he want to do again …?
Sean loved Nathan, and both knew it! All Nathan ever wanted was his attention, his recognition, him being proud of him. He loved him, oh god, he loved him so much! Kris just wanted to be like Nathan, and Sean cared so much about him and supported him, it wasn't all fucked up, and if he didn't care about him, then he should eat shit and day. Nathan didn't give a shit about him. Nathan hated him more than any person! He could never be like him!
God, his body felt sooo good. Like cotton candy, the rose one. Rose, Nathan fucking loved this color. Why did Vic never want to try ? Vic was the best, she was a goddess. Nathan jumped off the bed and looked at the blacked out windows, and he loved the color of the dim light shining through the curtains. Finally, he didn't feel depressed again, didn't hear any voices in his head, telling him to go to Rachel Amber, and to make picture of Kate's crushed head.
Finally, Nathan felt something again. His body. He felt his fucking body, and it was awesome, like ten orgasms at the same time, better than the first session with Mark.
God, he loved Mark so much. He cared for Nathan, who was a little piece of shit, he must've been Jesus. No, Nathan was Jesus – nobody could mess with him! Nobody! Nathan took out his phone, then, in a fit of rage, he typed "Pussies cant fukin fite", but he didn't know who he was texting. Then he throw away his phone while screaming like a bull. Nobody messed with a Prescott! NOBODY!
Nathan laid back again, and his life began for a moment … or stopped for one moment.
… Who said that?
Nathan startled, then he widened his eyes, looking into the dark, which felt closer and oppressing than ever. There was a voice …! Nathan looked around in fear, rising his head in terror. Nathan stared at the bed, and for a split second, he saw Rachel Amber laying on the bed.
"No!" he screamed, as he covered his face with his hands. "RACHEL!"
Suddenly, he heard a voice, and he flinched. "She's dead, she's dead, you buried her," a voice whispered and Nathan gasped, trying not to collapse. Where? Where was she?! Why was she alive? Where was she hiding? These little swinish eyes saw everything and everyone …! Why didn't Sean love him?! A minute ago, Nathan had thought that he loved him, but now his mind was sane again, and he knew that it had been his imagination, telling him everything was fine. But it wasn't! Nothing was fine! Everything was a fucking mess, his life was a fucking mess!
"You killed me, so why don't you kill yourself?" Rachel whispered, and Nathan got chills as he heard her voice directly next to his ear.
"I'm sorry! I didn't want to hurt anybody! I'm sorry!"
Suddenly, Nathan got chills all over his body, but he didn't know why. He looked around the room, and he could've sworn that there were shadows hiding in the dark, waiting for him. His curtain was turning the room red, and Nathan gasped as he suddenly struggled to breath. He ran to the door, but it was locked – why was the door locked!? Nathan felt the cold sweat on his back, and suddenly, he collapsed crying.
Warren would never love him! He was a tiny piece of shit, a maggot, a loser with no friends! He understood why Sean didn't call him, didn't ask how his day was, because he was a failure! He was a shitty son, a shitty photographer and he always fucked everything up. No wonder Mark hated him!
He hated him! Mark hated him! Nathan collapsed crying, and his nose didn't stop running. Warren! Warren, why do you hate me? I just wanted to love you! I love you, Warren!
Rachel! There, her voice! Nathan startled, turning around, but he didn't see anybody, but he could feel her cold wet lips on his, could feel her bare chest under his fingers, which were trying to massage her heart, trying to save her. But he had failed, and since then, Rachel had haunted him in his dreams.
Rachel in the dark room! Rachel in the dark room! Rachel in the dark room! Rachel in the dark room! Rachel in the dark room! Rachel in the dark room!
"I'm sorry, Rachel," Nathan screamed and he took off his shirt, then he saw the tattoo on his arm, the one which actually belonged to Mark's hands, but the one Nathan had wanted on his arm. The roman numbers he had actually no clue of. He covered his wet face with his hands, then he cried out sobbing.
"I can't do this anymore! I'm sorry, Rachel, I'm so sorry! You didn't deserve this …" Nathan crawled into the corner of his room, then he put his arms around his knees and started gasping.
"Rachel … Rachel … Rachel."
And the red eyes kept on staring at him.
At the beginning of all of this, Nathan had thought that he was in the best position he could've been. His father didn't give a shit about him, but he already knew that – he had some friends, including Vic, he could've bought up their entire scholarship and he had been chosen by Mark to be his apprentice. Nothing was perfect, not by a long shot. But … it didn't suck as much as his previous life had sucked. Without Mark and … what they had.
Now, the world was different. His "friends" were turning against him, telling him to stop puking instead of asking what was wrong, he had gotten beaten up by his crush and the one Nathan had bullied and threatened the most had told his crush to stop beating him up. Nathan still felt his cheeks flushing with shame, thinking about Max Caulfield "rescuing" him. His stomach hurt like shit, and his face felt absolutely horrifying. Nathan looked at his phone and the text he had sent Max. He was such a stupid idiot. Nobody got intimidated by this shit. Nathan was glad he hadn't called Mark like last time he had been stoned.
Nathan took a shower since he felt dirty and sweaty. He didn't know what he had expected from the coke, maybe to forget everything for a while, but on the contrary – the coke had just brought up all the dark memories, and the voices had gotten worse. He grabbed the stolen tablet and brought it to the lost-and-brought office, putting a note next to the original note, explaining that he had been jealous of the cool cats. The only thing that had been left of Ahab was a tiny monochrome he always carried around in his briefcase.
During the next thirty minutes, Nathan tried calling the Marsh's four times, but every time he had typed the number, he had hung up the phone, not knowing what to say. The fifth time, there was a sad and soft voice, answering the call, introducing herself with the name "Lynn", but Nathan had panicked and had mumbled "My condolences, she didn't deserve this." and had hung up the phone
Then he tried calling Kris, but her voice on the mailbox was all he heard.
"Tudo bem, fellow friend! It's Kris, leave a message."
"Ugh, h-hi Kris," Nathan sniffed, and he tried holding back the tears which were running down his cheeks, "it's Nate. I, ugh, I just wanted to … hear your voice. Today's a party and … well, I'm already, uhm, excited. … I got beaten up today. B-but, it's okay, not a big deal. I, uhm, I know you're busy and everything and … I thought it's better in Arcadia Bay than in Florida, but, i-it's not. Dad doesn't give a shit about me, but I mean, that's nothing new. … I wish, uhm, I wish you were here. P-please call be back, I just have Vic and you a-and my attacks are getting worse, a-and the voices, Kris, they're still–"
"Nate? Oh my god, I'm so glad to hear from you!" Kris screamed, and Nathan heard loud ocean voices and waves.
"Oh, Kris! Y-you have–"
"Look, Nate, I'm on a boat right now with some friends, we're fishing, and I'm so sorry, I know I wanted to call you! There's – Wait …! Not now … Não, com o meu irmão … Sim … Nate? You still there?"
"Y-yeah, I–
"Nate, ohmygod, there are tiny whales everywhere! One day I'll take you with me and you can photograph them! Look, I don't have much time, but I hope you're doing well! We, we'll talk later, I promise! Thank's for calling! Love you!"
Then she hang up, and Nathan swallowed, staring on the ground and mechanically wiping away the tears on his face.
"… Love you, too."
Nathan looked around the room, and he saw the certificate his father had given him. Then he looked at the instructions of the gun. Well, that was reality. Nathan was far from being the greatest son. His gaze wandered over his leather shoes to his monochrome laying on the ground, then over to his movie collection with over 200 DVDs; he sighed when he saw his Macbook, his third one, because he had accidentally broken his last ones. The bondage posters were shining under the dim light, and luckily, Sean didn't know any of them. Because he hadn't visited Nathan once. But then again, Nathan had once told him about his fetish, had told him that this was his favorite porn to watch. Why? Nathan didn't really know. Maybe he had wanted to get his attention, maybe he had just wanted to piss him off. Or maybe Nathan wanted Sean to remember things about him. He had gotten a slap, and Sean had told him to "stop watching that disgusting shit", and sweet two weeks later, he had forgotten everything. Nathan looked over his wardrobe which contained his 800 $ Hugo Boss Jacket he never wore, his bazillion shirts by Ralph Lauren he didn't wear as well, and some other things Sean had gotten him for his 19th birthday. Vic had always mocked him because of his Calvin Klein underpants, until he had gotten her some, too, and now she was loving them.
… Nathan understood why people thought they were a couple.
He looked at his car keys. Why did he keep the old rusty car? Vic was right when she had said that he could've had a better one, and Sean would've bought Nathan his dream car within a second if that meant that Nathan would stop taking drugs and "seeking for attention" when saying that there were voices in his head, telling him to kill himself. Yes, a BMW was way better than an old SUV, but … he had been 16 when he had gotten that car, and this summer, they had moved. He had lost everything, and this old car was everything that kept him in his memories of the better time, of the warm days spent with his friends, eating dinner with Sean and petting Ahab. Back when he had jumped into the sea, and had spent the whole week shivering, back when his father had taken a day out, once in a month, and had took him for a ride in his jet. There, Nathan had been able to see whole Fort Lauderale, able to take pictures and once, Sean and him had even went shopping for his camera. Now, it had been sent to him, and Sean had given him 10.000 $ cash, telling him to use and keep the change.
It may sound kitschy, but sometimes, Nathan didn't feel rich at all.
It hurt seeing Warren wear the same shirts for days, driving around with a shitty car he had worked for since ages, which wasn't as expensive as the phone he was holding in his hands, and with that Rolex he was wearing, he could've probably bought him his favorite car, unused. But Warren didn't need that shit. He was happy, because he had friends and a girl he loved, and Nathan would've exchanged everything he had for spending time with Warren, for being his friend, his …
Warren loved Max, and as much as it hurt and as difficult as it was, Nathan wasn't able to hate Max. She had saved him from getting his ass kicked by the guy he loved, the one with the hazel eyes he dreamed of every night, the one who made him stutter when talking to him. He wanted to hate her as much as he had done some hours ago, but … he couldn't.
'Meet me 6 in the lot
And bring your phone.' – Mark
When Mark had wanted him to bring first and his second phone, and Nathan told him that he had lost the second one, he got angry. Nathan said that he had looked for it everywhere, and he knew that he had put it under the sofa, but it hadn't been there. Mark yelled at him, then his voice got softer and he apologized. He said that he felt a bit tense, since he needed to prepare some things for the contest he wasn't a part of anymore. Still, he needed to choose a winner, which was probably Vic, who had entered the best photo. But Nathan should keep quiet about that. Mark had thought about choosing Kate, but this would've been too hypocritical. Nathan asked if there was a Mark who could be more hypocritical than the one during the talk with Wells, Max and him.
He had received an arrogant glare.
During the talk, Mark somehow behaved differently, which was probably attributed to the party and his plan of drugging Max. Mark couldn't stop staring on Nathan's nose, which was blue and red, and probably broken, and Nathan hoped that he didn't notice that Nathan had taken some nose candy.
"You're deathly pale. You feeling alright?"
"… Yeah," Nathan said, averting his gaze. Of course Mark knew that he didn't want to talk about it.
"It's getting dark now," Mark said, and the soft dim light of what had been left of this shitty day fell on his smooth skin, casting some shadows under his hooded eyes and his glasses, "I'll be preparing the session. You get your phone back tomorrow, I just want to have a backup in case I don't see her at the party."
"You wanna lure her?"
"Yes," Mark said, and his lips formed something like a smile, "let me handle this. You'll see the results by tomorrow."
Nathan nodded, then he saw Mark driving off in his huge black car. His gaze wandered over to the license plate, and he pictured Max laying on the white floor of the Dark Room, drugged. Her eyes as lifeless as Rachel Amber's, her mouth open and covered in tears. Gasping, barely breathing. And then, for a split second, he saw her face, dragging Warren away from him. He put a hand on his stomach, which still hurt, then he closed his eyes, seeing Warren's rage burn in his eyes, feeling his fist on his face and his kicks in his rips. Feeling inferior, weak, broken.
Nathan walked across the parking lot and the school's campus, seeing the people stare at him. His face looked awful; Mark had been right, he was as pale as a ghost, and the dark circles under his eyes really made him look like one. He was sweating like a pig and his twitches had gotten worse. His gaze wandered over the people on the campus, staring at him like a circus animal, revolted and fascinated at the same time. Hayden was sitting next to Courtney, Zach and Logan under the tree, scrutinizing with disgust. Nathan could see them talking about him, mocking him. He felt their sharp words on his body. Sometimes, Nathan couldn't read the people's facial expression, and he needed to hear what they say to know what they think. He was a creep with no friends.
The sun was setting, and Nathan sat down on a bench, closing his eyes and feeling the last sun beams on his skin. … Would Hayden or Zach or any of the club members have stopped Warren from beating him up? Nathan didn't have to think about it for a long time. They used him, made him pay for expensive gifts, and enjoyed being in his club. But they talked about him, Nathan knew it, and Hayden probably had told everyone that Nathan liked Warren Graham. The realization hit him like a slap from his father; they would've encouraged Warren. He knew it. For whatever reason, Max was the one he had bullied the most, and still she had decided to help him.
And suddenly, Nathan widened his eyes. He couldn't let Mark do this to her.
It was seven, and the party had already started, and it was then when the double moon occurred. By now, Nathan didn't wonder about anything anymore. The world was ending, he knew it, and now, everybody else knew. But Nathan didn't want to get another panic attack because of the human race not being whiling to stop global warming, so he focused on the most important thing right now. Since Nathan had given Mark his phone, he had to search for Max on his own, but no matter where he went, he couldn't find her. Vic was gone, too, and nobody seemed to have seen her. Nathan started to panic, desperately trying to find her, but a little later, he found the answer to his question.
He was standing in front of him, a red cup in his hand. Sober, yet. He looked up; brown and blue eyes met.
