Authors Note: Yeah, I am not even sure if I am keeping this chapter so...be as honest as you want with this chapter

Chapter Four:
Forgotten Footsteps.

Talking was a chore to Reno and I; one my own mother enforced every day. She was heartbroken when she heard of our breakup, even more when she saw the joint bruising on our bodies. She wanted to say something- perhaps to tell us we were foolish little boys and to get over our egos- but my father made sure she kept her mouth shut. It was our business and as a mother; she had to respect that. However, what she did do was force Reno to stay in the house, rent free, as long as he remained in college and stayed working at the grocery store.

That pissed me off to no end.

"I want him out of my house," I yelled at her as she slaved over hot oven to make Reno a birthday dinner. It was mid July at this point; hot, humid, and it added to my fevering temper.

"Sitting right here," my ex-boyfriend announced from the kitchen table; as if I didn't fucking smell his tacky axe cologne.

"Mom, Reno and I are no longer together! There's no reason for him to stinking up the place!" I growled at the last part, glaring at him furiously.

"You gave me this for Valentines day, dumbass!"

"Really, was it me or your fucking booty call?"

"Hm," he pondered sarcastically, "maybe it was. I don't remember you giving me such a fucking good orgasm"

The sound of my mother slamming a pot against the counter dragged us away from our fight. Our heads snapped towards her, feeling the anger and rage that was emitting from her side of the room.

"Listen," she hissed, "I don't care about your little drama. I don't care about who broke up with who, who cheated on who, and who decided to throw the first punch. Reno has no place to go. He has been in our lives for a year and a half and just because of a little breakup I am not casting him out into the street. So deal with it, both of you."

With a pleasant smile, she returned to her cooking, but not before adding in a low whisper, "you're leaving me anyway, let me at least keep one of my sons."

I didn't understand her attachment to Reno at the time; mainly because I was too caught up with my own loathing of the boy. However, I did accept her reasoning; Reno had nowhere else to go. No home, no family. He was abandoned by the people who raised him. And now, he was abandoned boy who loved him. All he had were the walls of this house to keep him safe and the love from my parents to keep him relatively sane. So, I let it go: I have them both their wish. I talked to him when my mother forced it upon us and I didn't complain at his presence in the house. But that was it. Anything beyond that would be painful.

I began to pray for the day when I could finally leave the house- and leave Reno- behind. I talked about it to all my friends until they were tired of hearing my voice. I walked around sporting a Binghamton T-shirt throughout the summer, ignoring the sad glace Reno would throw me every now and then. I knew if I ever looked into those sad green eyes I would forget everything. He had that effect on me Reno, if you haven't already gathered. He could make me crumple if he wanted to- maybe he should have.

Eventually, staying in that very house during the summer was a daunting task. I spent most of my time with Vincent, leaving Reno behind to do his own thing whatever it may have been- however destructive it was. I would leave my house early, sometimes as early as nine, to ensure I would avoid Reno roaming shirtless around the house. I had keys to Vincent's apartment that he now shared with no one ever since his grandmother was put in a nursing home. He didn't give me the keys because he was nice or anything, he just got tired of me banging on his half broken door early in the morning. He wasn't much of a morning person.

Anyway, I would come to his house early everyday. If I couldn't sleep I would make him breakfast so he would deem me useful enough to keep around. Most of the time I crawled into bed with him, just to experience the kind of closeness I had missed when Reno and I broke up. Vincent and I were best friends since the third grade; I never thought anything strange about it…

"Why do you come to bed with me?" He asked one day when I walked into his bedroom. He was sitting on his bed, his shirt off showing off his the muscles I never thought existed, and smoking a cigarette.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "Because I'm tired and your couch smells like dead rats."

"Heh," he snuffed the cig in the astray on his night table, "should have known it was something stupid like that."

I knitted my eyebrows together suspiciously, "You are acting weird." I took a seat next to him on the bed, studying his stern face to seek the answer to my question. Vincent always had a knack for hiding his emotions; made it terribly hard to figure out if he was being serious or not.

"I'm not being weird," he growled, "Just observing you."

"Well why?"

"Because you are a creature of habit. You are predictable, usually. I like predictable people. This is why I never liked Reno, because he isn't predictable."

"Heh, yeah well I can vouch for that."

Vincent looked at me, sharply, his crimson eyes burning into my blue ones. "But you do something strange now…you join me in bed, get as close as you can, and draw yourself in the most restless sleep I have ever seen. Twitching, mumbling, grabbing on to anything within reach like silent begging. Never before have you shared a bed with me, save for that night where Reno broke your heart the first time. Now this begs the question, are you only reaching for me because you don't have your little red headed boy toy-"

"Holy shit," I interrupted him, something I never did, but I couldn't control my outburst once I saw how his eyes tinted once Reno was mentioned. He never let any kind of emotion leak into his eyes- it was his strength. But I saw his eyes change to the deep green of jealously when the red head's name was mentioned. "You're fucking jealous? Of Reno?"

He pushed himself off the bed, instantly turning his back to me, "Why the fuck would you say that?"

"I saw it in your eyes," I laughed gently at the situation, "Why are you jealous of Reno?"

"I'm not jealous of Reno," he hissed, "Why would I be jealous of that fuckwit."

"We've been friends for ten freaking years! You can tell me why you are jealous, not like it will change our friendship."

He turned his head a little to look at me, intently, "really now?"

"Yeah, I mean," he was freaking me out, "I love you. You can tell me anything."

"…Close your eyes." It was a simple request, but the growl in his voice made it all the more strange. I eyed him suspiciously, but he was my friend…I could trust him. I pushed myself back against the wall and closed my eyes, wrapping myself in the darkness. I could hear him, from the creaks in the room, advance towards me…

I felt the bed go down in front of me; his hands grazing my chest as he crawled closer to me. One of his tone legs eased itself between my legs…shoulders against shoulders and forehead against forehead. I could feel his cool breath against my lips, sending shivers down my spine. My mind ceased to work in that moment and I completely disregarded the fact my best friend was on top of me…his lips inches away from my own. He stopped though, frozen in the moment; he was thinking…at a time like this? I laughed gently at his incapability to just let reason go. I closed the gap between us, entangling our lips in an awkward kiss. He tensed up at the first touch, but I ran my fingers through his short black hair to ease his nerves.

I deepened the kiss, pushing my tongue to graze his bottom lip, begging for the right to taste him…

But he suddenly pulled away, violently shoving my body against the wall, and stomped to his door. He swung it open, looking not at me but the old floor, "Get out."

I sat there, stunned, "What the fuck? You kiss me, then you throw me out?"

"I said," he growled, "Get the fuck out."

Anger flew throughout my body, boiling my blood and constricting blood flow to my brain. The chills that once danced down my spine were replaced with the pins and needles of frustration and confusion. I wanted to throw the boy against the wall and demand a fucking answer. I had enough shit on my plate; I didn't need my supposedly best friend playing mind games with my emotions. I picked myself off the bed, my head slightly throbbing from being rudely shoved into the wall, and stalked to the door. My blue eyes burned at him; questions like daggers silently attacked him, but he neither looked at me nor flinched. In fact, he never acknowledged my existence.

"Why?" I managed to say, "Why would you push me away like that."

"Because you still love him."

It wasn't the fact he was gay or bisexual, it wasn't even the fact that he silently wanted me. No. I was confused by how my past relationship with Reno would cause him to fly into a frenzy. In the past, I would have never placed him in the category of jealous best friend, or jealous admirer. But I guess I was just too stupid to see, to selfish to listen, and to arrogant to care. I had put so much of my energy into ensuring Reno and I would stay together forever like in those little fairy tales, I forgot to watch over the people who mattered most to me. Now I was being thrown out of my best friend's apartment; the only person I had in times of need.

"I can't believe you are jealou-"

"I'm not fucking jealous! Just get the fuck out of my house."

The blood flow to my brain was constricted remember, actually I don't think my brain was functioning at all. That was the only way I could justify what I said to him. "House? More like rat and invested apartment poor boy."

It wasn't until I was chased out of the apartment-when his door slammed shut and I heard the clank of a million locks- did I realize what I had actually said to him. I dropped down to a new low- now I was chasing my own friends away.

I banged on his door. "Come on Vincent, I'm sorry!" Nothing. Ha, was I actually thinking he would open the door for the likes of me? "Come on Vin-boy, you know you are my best friend. I'm sorry…I'm just pissed off…"

He wouldn't cry. Or be upset Or even look at me any different. That wasn't his style, this was Vincent. And even though he allowed himself to be vulnerable for a second, he would never do it again- not in front of me at least. He loved me, he would tell me later on, but it became too hard to hide behind a carefully woven mask and destroy the emotions in his eyes. He wanted me, they way I wanted Reno, and much like me…he ran away.

The next morning I came to his apartment, to apologize…no…to beg for his forgiveness and his affection. I couldn't promise love, oh I could never promise love to anyone but Reno, but I wanted the feeling again…feeling of being totally and completely high on the touch of another person. I knocked on the old wooden door three times, before a little old woman walked out of her apartment. She wrapped a sweater around her frail arms despite the sweltering heat, and adjusted her small glasses that had seen better days.

"He went away," she said slowly, "Left early this morning. Sent the rest of the rent to the landlord and ran off somewhere. He asked if I would wait for a boy with blonde hair to come around. I am guessing that I you."

I nodded, "yeah…do you know where he went?"

"Oh, I'm sorry dearly, he never told me. Just disappeared."

Disappeared. A memory. That's what he became. I part of me…wanted to follow in his forgotten footsteps.