The water eases the burn. Carlos doesn't like the burn. That's not why he runs. Standing in the showers of the gym outside of building B he allows the ice cold falls to remind him why he does it. Finding tomorrow. That's what he calls it. Nights are always ugly even with the swirling lights and whisky. It's the struggle and the release. The sunrise, the mist of a new day, the ease of the tensions.
The brothers find that on the tits and ass of their prey. They find it in the needle. They find it in the power. He finds it in the earning of something he feels he really deserves. The strain on his calves are kissed by the cold. The vibration in his veins reverberate in the beat of his heart. He hears the music and his eyes open. A small droplet slivers down his face and he worries it might be a tear.
He looks up at the window three shower heads down and sees the bright blue of an overcast day. Who's out there in the rain strumming a guitar? Then he hears the voice.
Call me friend but keep me closer
I'll call you when the party's over
Quiet when I'm coming home
I'm on my own
Carlos turns off the water and grabs his towel before leaving the room and the haunting voice behind. Every thing in his body hurt for some reason and it wasn't the typical post work out pains. This was something far more internal. Like he was supposed to do something and the aggression kept him from being human.
Twenty minutes later he's rounding a corner into a classroom. Film studies with Mr. Feltner. Pages shift, the crowd bustles, a small sphere circulates in the air above each desk and he's taking his seat beside Drake Parker.
There's a worried look on his roommates face. Oh shit.
"You're in a lot of trouble dude. Reese noticed you weren't there last night. He got so angry about it because it was your turn to clean up the mess." Fuck. It's even worse than he would have guessed.
"So it's my fault our great president was too wasted to remind me of my duties. Cool. What's fifty lashes. I can take it." He gruffs.
Only it's not over, "Dude. She got out. We're fucked."
Mr. Feltner is doing that thing he does to gather the attention of his students where he sends a newspaper through the air. It lands on Carlos' desk and he feels his heart sink. Dear God. It's going to be a long day.
"Hm. Yes. Interesting. Alright Mr. Garcia. What was your opinion on last weeks movie. We never did hear from you." His grey mustach crinkled as he expected Carlos to say something absolutely stupid.
Be honest, Carlos told himself. You're screwed tonight any way might as well show your true colors. So he did, "Trash. Obvious pick for a halloween flick. Annoying. So cliche. I mean the movies called Halloween. The killer spends the entire movie seeking out the most idiodic and pointless victims. They hold no merit to what it is to be an authentic human being. I get it. It's the 80s. Story telling isn't that great. But for real the only character with any depth is our female lead and litterally the only thing we learn about her is she had a brother. Where's the real pain? All I saw was poorly edited gore."
"You've seen this before Mr. Garcia, yes?" He asked.
Carlos chuckles, "I was fourteen, drunk, at a friends house and he spent the entire film fucking my girlfriend in the other room so I couldn't really pay attention then. You forced us to watch trash and ask me to rate it. I gave you my response you can move on to the next topic now."
There's a creek and someone else is walking through the door.
"Mr. Mitchell. You're late." Said the professor.
Then the entire class went silent at the sight of all the blood.
"I have a good excuse." Said Logan.
Everyone waited. It looked like he needed a doctor personally but since his major is human anatomy he would know right?
He says, "A student was injured. I did what I could at left her to the mercy of the clinic. I'd put money on the infliction I saw that it came from Beta house."
"You son of a bitch!" Yells Carlos and he stands up our of his seat, "My brothers and I know our bounds. You watch your mouth."
Drake Parker did something no brother has ever done and reached up to touch Carlos with a hand of something more that a restraint. As if it was a sympathy. As if he knew the truth about what was in store for all of them.
The class grew loud and Mr. Feltner calmed them, "Enough. Mr. Mitchell take your seat."
Then he's directing them all into the next film, "Oddly enough, today we will be watching season 13 episode 8 of Grey's anatomy. A stand alone episode. We'll spend the first forty five minutes of this class observing the title, "The Room Where It Happens" then we will spend the second half of the period discussing it."
The lights go out, the monitor in the front of the room turns on, and the shadows of all the tiny little spheres sway at the top boarder of the screen as the episode begins...
He runs down the hall, busts a left, and pushes open the door into the theatre, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm late. There was an incident."
James comes to a stop at the stage where Mr. Long is directing a few stage hands. The band is behind them filling up the seats. Kendall among them.
"Sir. I found a girl, a student, today, she was badly hurt. I got her some help. I couldn't just leave her there." He explained.
Mr. Long nods, "Of course Diamond, it's no worries. Take a seat among the choir. I hadn't had a chance to get started." he then directs the entire auditorium, "Class this is James Diamond. He'll be playing the lead. Today we will find his costar."
He turned to excited applause from the band. From the choir he got ugly looks, except for one girl at the far end who smiled really big and clapped really hard and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose only to start clapping again. He decides to sit next to her.