The night didn't calm him.
Didn't make him crazy, didn't help him think things over.
Drew did that and Drew...wasn't his anymore, probably never had been.
A blast behind him, the huge Whonk! of a car horn.
He kept walking.
Whonk! Wuh-ONK!
'Oh-KAY!' Justin spun around and leapt onto the hood, banged on the windshield with both hands. 'Cut it OUT already!'
Fluffy long bleached out Doritoes colored hair mixed in with his wild child club kid porcupine 'do.
He accepted the embrace, nothing more.
'Don't leave us.'
'Whine at Drew, HE'S the traitor.'
'Sportsbar.'
'Pardon?'
'He was at a sportsbar with his friends. It was harmless.'
A twisted Were-grimace at Heath.
'He was at a TNA event, visiting someone who broke a champagne bottle over his head! That's NOT harmless!'
'Wine.' above them.
Justin glanced at the sidewalk instead of the fire escape.
Drew climbed, jumped and crawled his way to Earth, down between them, too close to Justin, who kept away.
'It was wine and a good year too.'
Justin kept his eyes down, his hands to himself. He wanted badly to forgive and forget and stay all his life with this man, kiss him constantly and smile every second.
But the cheater, the traitor, the liar didn't want HIM, he wanted HER.
So let the two bitches be together.
'Yeah,what's your point?!'
'It was the vase she busted over my skull, new pair of high heels also.'
'Can't wait to find out what you get smacked around with when you work on Dixie's side.' Justin said sarcastically, furiously and shoved both his 'brothers' away from him, his two lovers and friends.
And ran and ran, they couldn't catch him, couldn't keep up.
Heard them miles off still pleading for his return.
Slowed his steps and never looked back.
Looked forward and smiled.
Some over-tatted guy in a black hoodie, white tee with safety pins stuck to the frayed ends, blue jeans in need of patching up and no laces black Doc boots.
Holding a cup, styro, from a local all night fast food place.
Popped off the lid, poured a golf ball sized glob of white on the lid, and whistled.
Little grey fluffball kitty emerged from the pocket of the hoodie, wiggled to the floor, lapped away at partly melted vanilla shake.
Justin smiled, wanting to cry for some odd reason.
His mind burned, his heart raged.
His crotch ached terribly from the erection.
He walked towards the tattoo and piercing shop, moth to flame, dared to crash and burn.
Hard as steel in his pants.
Wondered if this guy would help him melt.
Stepped faster, ready to find out.
