A/N: This is the first part of a two or three part series, so I hope you enjoy! It's really long but I had so much fun writing it that it was all worth it. So, anyways, tada! I love writing with these characters, and wish they had a story to fit in to…
VANDER'S POV
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
The leaves crack under my feet as I step on them. The wind should be cold, but I'm not one to feel uncomfortable: at anything.
My name is Vander Link. I'm a twenty-year-old from District Three that really gets around, if you know what I mean.
Estranged from my family, lacking friends, the only love I've ever seen is the kind made in the bedroom.
My mind is usually packed full of stress and voices (they only speak sometimes, though), and I've found that the art of saying sweet nothing with a pretty face and a big rack (or dick, I'm not picky) humming sweet nothings right back takes me away from that shit.
Boeh Richmond is dead, Drew Richmond is forever gone, after a long fight and an even longer kiss.
I still remember how he tasted, remember how his body shifted out of shock when it happened. I thought it was the sweetest feeling I'd ever felt at the time.
I guess I'm over it, over everything that's happened since the 2nd Hunger Games came and went.
I sleep with people to get my conscience to shut up, and it helps to take me away from the shit I deal with every day. It's just you being angsty, you'll get over it someday, you're being crazy, I've heard it all.
I work in the daytime, I've been kicked out of everywhere except for this lousy factory with low pay, but they're close to kicking me out of there, too, because sometimes I do stuff I don't remember doing. (Either that or they lie to get rid of me, lying bastards.)
And sometimes, when I fail to make any plans for a certain night, I'm just doomed to either jacking off at home or, on very very very rare occasions, wandering the streets of District 3 very late at night.
Tonight, I find myself just not in the mood, and since my mind decided to be somewhat quiet (whispering, not shouting), I decide to walk around for a bit.
The wind is bitter, but not cold (to me, anyways), so I walk around in the dark, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, in the middle of October at night.
I walk toward a shabby part of town, not caring where I'm going and just letting my feet guide me blindly. My feet keep walking, my mind trying to clear up enough for me to think for myself, just for a second or two.
I walk until I give up on trying to think and look up at where I sopped. It's an old, abandoned house I've never seen before. It's a large, almost mansion-looking house, now old and dilapidated.
I wonder if it's haunted… There's only one way to find out.
I decide listen to the voice in my head that tells me to go inside and check it out. The door opens when I push on it, and after a second, I step inside. The place is eerily clean… Not nice, exactly, but livable.
I venture further in. Part of me wants to provoke the ghost, but the other part is more cautious. Soon the reckless side wins (after a screaming match- can't you just calm down already!?) and I shout, "Hey, come on out, ghosts!" By the size of this place, there has to be more than one.
As soon as I should it, I hear a loud gasp.
Shit. The careful voice in my brain starts snickering and the reckless side eggs me on to keep going. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
I'm starting to agree with the careful voice… Maybe I should get out of here…
Just then, the door bursts open suddenly and a guy, a guy my age (maybe a little older), a guy lets out a battle cry-ish screech, clutching a cutting board in his hands. He lunges at me and smacks me across the face with his cutting board, causing a big crack, sending me to my knees.
I taste some blood, and my vocal chords hum in a satisfactory tone as I swallow some of it down. The pain and the taste of my own blood isn't something that bothers me, it wakes me up and gives me some energy.
When I look up, I see a pair of rabid green eyes staring at me. His teeth are clenched, his chest moving up and down in jagged panting.
I wheeze. Who is this beautiful stranger!? The second I look at his face I have to know his name.
"Who the hell are you!?" Beautiful Stranger speaks.
Hearing his voice makes me feel dumb and a little uncomfortable, but I never want to stop hearing it.
I, I mean, I want to hear it scream my name in bed….
I mean… I don't know… Great. Another damn thing I don't know. I don't like it at all.
Why'd I ever come in this house?!
"WHO ARE YOU!?" he shots, holding up his cutting board again.
I look up and manage to get out, "Vander Link!"
"Vander Link…" he mutters, "Boeh told me about you…"
His words catch me off guard. Boeh!? Boeh knew Beautiful Stranger!?
He suddenly groans, changing the subject, "What the hell is the matter with people!? So it's a big house, so it's all rickety, doesn't mean it's haunted!"
"Hey, the door's unlocked, man, it's all fair game."
He stares at me, teeth clenched and panting, holding up his cutting board threateningly. "All these kids coming in, and you're the first to give me mouth."
"One, I'm not all that younger than you. Two, I'll give you any kind of mouth you want." I put a wink in there to specify my point.
The voices are going crazy. Ooo, Vander's in love!
No, absolutely not! That's absurd!
VANDER'S IN LOVE WITH BEAUTIFUL STRANGER!
NO, HE DOESN'T KNOW BEAUTIFUL STRANGER'S NAME! IT'S LUST!
No matter what, all I know is that I want this guy to fuck me really really hard. Or I can fuck him really really hard. I'm not picky.
His face is crimson when I zone back into it, and he stutters out, "W-Well, let's not go there. No, if you want in my pants that's not the way to get there!"
I blink, confused and feeling dumber and dumber with each word that rolls off of Beautiful Stranger's tongue. "I'm good at getting into pants, though."
"Well if you want in my pants, you'll just have to drink with me first."
"Y-You knew Boeh!?" I finally ask, above the voices that are going crazy in my head. Could this be her "imaginary" boyfriend?!
"I did." He takes a seat and gestures for me to sit across from him, which I proceed to do.
"How?" I gaze at him. Could Boeh have really dated Beautiful Stranger?! My stomach twists at the thought.
"She snuck in here often, most nights after you were asleep. Told me stories."
If Boeh's the reason Beautiful Stranger haters me, I swear…
Out loud, I just ask, "Stories?"
He nosd, pouring some steaming liquid into a cup. "Horror stories" he says darkly, causing my stomach to flip. "Horror stories of you and rape, of your infatuation with her brother, of pain and tears and suffering, because he controlled you like a puppet…" he says, trailing off, glaring at me and holding a cup to his lips.
He pours another cup of the stuff (are we still sure he isn't trying to poison me?) and holds it out to me. I take it gingerly, not looking up at Beautiful Stranger's face.
"You're her boyfriend?" I ask, blowing gently on the piping liquid and taking a sip.
"No. No, we never dated." He leans back and his face is stone-set critically.
My heart leaps for a second until finally a voice pushes past the others and shouts, "You don't even know if Beautiful Stranger is gay!" My spirits sink. I'm getting myself set up for heartbreak, just like not long ago when I promised I'd get Drew Richmond in my bed. Beautiful Stranger hates me already, anyways.
He looks over and raises an eyebrow. "Well, Vander Link? What's your defense?"
I shrug. "I don't have any." It comes out more choked than I intended to say it. "I lusted after some guy, and I did what he said to get in his pants."
He sits back (how can he look so relaxed!?) and puts his feet up. "Isn't that what you're doing now?" he asks in a calm voice.
I want to lie but the truth comes out of my mouth anyways, just as a voice in my head shouts, "Yes." Cackling pounds in my head (why can't they just shut up!?) and I know I really should've stayed home.
I refuse to break down in front of Beautiful Stranger, trying to limit how bad my hands shake and try to control my breathing.
This has only happened a couple times before, times when I was overwhelmed with stress and emotions, my weakest times forced me to become even weaker.
Basically, any time I don't' want to have a breakdown, I have one.
All I want now is control. Shaking, I take the cup and put it to my lips. Looking at Beautiful Stranger's face makes it both worse and better, the taste of scalding tea burning my mouth keeping me down-to-earth.
Beautiful Stranger just watches, his eyes softening with each second my shaking gets worse.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, gazing at me.
My vocal chords make a small sound that sounds like a whimper (Dammit…) before I shout, "Shut up, I'm fine!"
If only you knew, Beautiful Stranger.
I drink hot tea without cooling it it until the cup is empty, focusing on my breathing.
"Want more?"
I refuse to break down in front of Beautiful Stranger. IrefusetobreakdowninfrontofBeautifulStranger.
"N-No, I best be going…" The voices won't SHUT UP, the cackling, the screaming, the singing… I need it to STOP!
He looks me over from stone-set face to shaking feet and his eyes melt with concern.
"They talk to you, don't' they?" he asks quietly.
"Who's they!? I'm fine! SHUT UP, I'M FINE!"
"They talked to my parents."
"STOP!" I shout at him, trying to hold onto control. Beautiful Stranger needs to shut his mouth.
I REFUSE TO BREAK DOWN IN FRONT OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER.
I can't.
"It's okay," Beautiful Stranger says quietly, "I hear them too sometimes."
"Shut up, I don't hear anything but you!"
"Okay, okay…" he puts his hands up in surrender, "Just saying."
"Well, don't."
"Guess I won't."
I try desperately to hold onto my sanity, "Good."
He nods, and after that he says nothing, and the only thing I hear is those dumb voices!
After a couple seconds, I stand up and say, "I have to go. Maybe we'll meet again someday." I try to make my way out the door before I break down.
"Come back someday, Vander Link. Maybe I can help you."
"I. Don't. Need. Help," I growl at him, glaring.
Then, I turn around and leave without even learning Beautiful Stranger's name.
~.~.
Next visit, I learn that Beautiful Stranger's name is actually Alistair Vladamire. He's insane, like me, and he and I see eye-to-eye on a lot of things.
This visit is one that takes place when I fail to make plans and decide I'm in the mood to see him again. I walk to that part of time, I enter the house and call out before I see him already there, tea on the table.
"How'd I know you'd come around?"
"I dunno… That's weird."
"I guess it is. Oh well, go ahead and take a seat."
I nod and sit down, taking a glass. I feel so dumb in his presence, but something about his air keeps me coming back… It's an addiction, I think… A bad one.
"So, tell me Vander Link," he takes a sip of tea, "Tell me what you've been up to."
"I work in the days. I sleep with people in the nights."
"And you're not tonight?"
"That's right." I take a sip. It's not like I'd rather be here, it's just that I had no other choice.
"Interesting. Tell me, Vander Link, why do you sleep with so many people all the time?" He lounges back in his seat.
"What are you, my fucking psychologist!?"
"Answer the question."
"Fine, fine," I groan. I'm formulating a lie but suddenly my eyes meet his and the truth slips out like a table cloth from under a wine glass. "I use it to get the voices to shut up."
He thinks for a second. "I've never paid attention to the volume of the voices during sex," he says thoughtfully, "Does it really work?"
I consider this. "Well, not in the beginning… But after you've kissed someone senseless and they start squirming under your touch, then they silence completely."
"Huh." He shifts in his seat, biting his lip and looking at my lips, to my lap, back up.
"Are you trying to pick me up?" I ask suddenly, chuckles bubbling out of my lips.
"What made you think that!?" he asks, voice cracking, face turning bright red, and I know that he's mine for the taking. I walk over to him and sit on his lap. "I can see that you want me, Alistair Vladamire…." I whisper. He makes a Nyeh! noise before I kiss him on the lips. He melts into my arms just like that and kisses back, and I think that's the fastest I've ever been able to shut up the voices.
~.~.
"So, Vander Link, tell me about your own personal hell." Such a question startles me and I just stare at him. We've been talking for a couple of months, sure, but… I just stare at him.
"Everyone needs someone to let it out to," he says gently, gazing at me.
"Well…" God, where do I start!? "My parents were useless. I was an it to them, so were both my sisters, one was older and one younger. Voices talked often, cruel voices, but I guess that's normal." I'm about to shut up about it but his eyes command me to keep going.
God, I'm so bad at dealing with this stuff, mostly because I've never had anyone that's cared before.
"My oldest sister, Ida, left the second she turned 18. As for my younger sister, Amelia… I wanted to take her with me when I turned 18 and moved out, but she wouldn't come with me. She was afraid of me. She knew I was too fucked up to raise her any better than our parents. So she refused to come, she pushed me out, and I had to go without her. I see her around sometimes, but now we're nothing more than strangers who once knew each other."
I take a sip of tea, admitting to myself for the first time that I want to be in her life. Too bad I'm not sane enough, not good enough, too big a failure at being a brother and a guardian.
I push the thoughts away, push away the shouting about me being a failure and a loonie, I shove them to the back of my brain and just focus on Alistair. "After that," my voice cracks (damn!), "There's not much to say. I had a weird lust thing for Drew Richmond, and then that stuff with Boeh. Met my lookalike, Nate McIalwain. Slept with Krietzer. I live on my own, with the voices. I have episodes that I don't remember doing or causing. I lack control." I hate being so honest but I can't stop myself once I start.
"And you've always been so lonely?" he asks, looking at me.
"I was. Then I met you." SHIT! I hate letting things slip out!
"The same is true for me. Growing up was something else, parents were both gone by the time I was 12. People think my house is abandoned and sneak in sometimes. I hear things, people talking, that aren't really there, like my parents. Then you stumbled into my house. Imbecile. But I can't say it turned out to be a bad thing."
I laugh, though I start to feel overwhelmed with conflicting feelings.
Vander loves Alistair! Vander wants to rip Alistair's clothes off! Vander is weak! Vander is a crybaby! Vander was never loved and never will be! Vander misses little sissy! Vander's fucked up and unable to protect a little girl! Shouting erupts, things about how I wasn't good enough… It gets worse and worse each second…
Vander can't commit! Vander can't love! My hands ball into tight fists, my teeth clench.
"You don't have to say more if you don't feel comfortable," Al says, looking at me with concern.
"Sorry I get so worked up," I force out, though it's strained. My breathing gets jagged and my hands shake, "Sorry I'm weak…" I mutter, trying to keep my voice from quavering. My vocal chords hum by themselves and I force out, "Sorry I have no control."
Tears form in my eyes and I bury my face, looking away. "Sorry," my voice cracks. It's all I can say.
Then, I break down in front of Alistair.
~.~.
I realize it when we're making out on his bed.
Everything comes together. Why I've spent more and more time with him over this past year, our talks together, my obsession with his smile, his laugh, his taste, his company… And I realize it here, a year after the first time we met.
With him… It's the only place I can really think straight.
"Hey…" I say quietly, between kisses and sucking and groans. He breaks off from where he was sucking on my neck, "Hm?"
"Have you ever considered…" He sucks lightly on my neck as I talk, which makes it easier somehow. "C-Considered us… Falling in love?"
He pulls back, looking at me with wide eyes. "What?"
I shrug, looking away. "Well, I dunno… I've thought about it…."
He talks against my neck, "What exactly does falling in love entail?"
I think. What does it entail? "Well…" I finally start, "Couple stuff. Like… Well, commitment." I think some more and realize that I haven't been looking for any new partners for a whole year…
"We could… Move in together. Sleep in the same bed. Get married. Have sex any moment we want. You can make me breakfast. Combine our savings. I'll work for you… Whatever you want."
His green eyes flicker up to look at my face. "Vander… I really don't want to fall in love with you."
My heart sinks. The voices laugh and have a field day. I knew I was always setting myself up for heartbreak, I just… I didn't think it would hurt this much. I don't like how much it hurts. I don't like it at all! I don't want to be in love!
"Love is scary," Al says. "You put your life with someone else. They become everything. You lose them, you lose it all. They come before you… I'm too selfish for that. And I don't want to put everything I am and ever will be into you…" he looks at me, eyes unreadable. I look away, on the verge of another breakdown.
"But I already have." My head snaps back to look at him. "What?"
"I already have," he repeats. "I'm in love with you."
I didn't know anyone could feel so very warm, and fuzzy, and happy. I didn't know it was possible to feel so light, to feel like you're flying, to feel like you're so high up in the clouds nobody can bring you down no matter what… In that moment, though, that's exactly how I feel.
He leans in to me and I back to him and our lips meet in the middle in a kiss. But, this one is different.
It's… So full of his smile, so soft and gentle, so full of fuzziness and love I feel like it's my first kiss.
I guess it's my first real one.