Stan pulled the cup away, not wanting to hear any more of their conversation. He carefully but clumsily put the cup down on his bedside table and slumped down on his bed, curling up. He could feel that horrible mix of drunk and tired hitting him like it always did, making him bubble up with emotions and cry. He fell asleep with his head resting upon a damp pillow, the muffled sounds of movement floating through the walls.
"I think you should... Go home now Laura."
"What!" she snapped.
"I... This isn't what I want... I'm sorry"
"Well fuck you Kyle, you know as well as me I can ruin this internship for you!"
"Look..." Kyle shifted to sit up while she jumped off the bed with a huff, hooking up her bra and slipping her top back on. "I can't do this, please... If you actually like me, don't do this to me" he looked at her pleadingly, while trying his best not to look vulnerable. She didn't say anything, just glared at him and left his room, left his apartment. His and Stan's apartment. With a sigh, he got off his bed and went to Stan's room. He stood there in the doorway for a few moments, watching his gentle breathing.
"... Stan?" he whispered. No response. "Stan, are you awake?" He said this louder, and it seemed to work. He repeated his question, and Stan shifted as his breathing lost it's steady rhythm.
"No."
"What's wrong?"
"Go away, Kyle."
Kyle was silent for a few moments, but Stan knew he was still there, he could feel his eyes burning the back of his head. He turned over.
"What do you want?" Stan asked, clearly unimpressed. Kyle traced the tear tracks down his cheeks.
"I just... I just..." What? What did he want? He knew exactly what he wanted. He crossed the bedroom and was about to lay down next to Stan, but he was stopped by a hand pressing hard on his chest.
"No."
"Stan...?"
"No."
"What's wrong?" He asked, forgetting about what he had just been trying to do and focusing on being concerned for his friend.
"I don't know" Stan whined, his face scrunching up painfully as he sat up in bed, the sheets rustling and flumping in to his lap. A bottle rolled off his bed and on to the carpet with a dull thud. To Stan's surprise, Kyle didn't get mad about it. He knew it was only a matter of time, though.
"Okay... I think we're both too drunk to know anything right now..."
"Probably" Stan thought he could see Kyle's anger bubbling just below the surface. In his mind, he had an image of a child's drawing of Kyle, outlined in black and coloured in red to show his badness level.
"How was the interview?" Kyle asked. Stan let out a frustrated scream.
"I didn't go!" Stan shouted, and he realised it wasn't Kyle's badness level he was imagining, it was his own. "I didn't go I didn't!" He jumped out of bed, and Kyle stepped back in shock. "Kyle why can you think that you can just do this to me?" he began, pacing back and forth on the opposite side of his bed.
"What...?" Kyle's fuzzy mind was having a hard time keeping up with what was happening.
"I didn't go to that interview, I was too drunk to remember, I'm drunk now! I don't have a job and I don't have any money and the rent that my mom paid will run out eventually, I'm a shitty friend and a shitty room mate and I can't even get my shit together! You kiss me every night and it's not fair! I just want it so much!" He knew he wasn't making much sense, but he couldn't stop. "And then you have sex with the girl from Facebook and I, and I..." he sniffed. "I can't give you anything else, so you take kisses from me! It's not fair because I like it, and you don't and it's just not fair!" He hiccuped out a sob, walking around his bed and pushing past Kyle, who just stood there gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.
He heard the front door slam, and even though he still didn't understand what had just happened, he automatically ran out after Stan. The elevator doors closed just as he reached them, and no matter how many times he furiously pressed the button to call it back, the door wouldn't open again.
"Shit!" He cursed, heading quickly to the stairs and running down them, being careful not to trip over his own feet. He still stumbled down the last few steps, and as he clumsily righted himself he could see Stan exiting their apartment building, stepping out and in to a large group of guys who were seemingly in the midst of celebrating a bachelor party.
Out on the street, Kyle didn't know which way to turn. He had lost sight of Stan the moment he had joined the small crowd, as though he had been swept away by them. Kyle spent the next half an hour looking for Stan anyway.
By the time Kyle returned to their apartment, he was defeated and tired. The only good thing about Stan being missing was that he had time to think about what happened and why Stan was missing in the first place. But even then, he knew that might turn out to be a bad thing, too.
Instead of thinking things over, Kyle slowly dragged himself to bed and flopped down lazily on to it. Maybe this never really happened, maybe he had had too much, maybe Laura had spiked one of his drinks, maybe when he woke up again, Stan would be asleep in his bedroom like he was supposed to.
So when Kyle woke up the next morning, head groggy as vague memories of the night before filtered through it, the first thing he did was head for Stan's room. He wasn't there. So it really happened. Shit. Kyle sat down on the sofa and pulled up his knees, hugging them to his chest. He wondered if he should call the police now, but wasn't there a certain amount of time someone had to be missing for a search party to be sent out?
An hour later, and Kyle was staring at the phone on the wall, debating if he should call the police or Stan's mom. Then he realised that Stan always kept his phone in his pocket. What he hadn't realised, however, was that Stan was wearing his pajamas when he left. It was only when Kyle called Stan's number and heard a phone ringing down the hall that he knew that Stan didn't have his phone with him.
Kyle hung the phone back on the wall and looked at the clock in the kitchen. Seven thirty. Should he call in sick? Could he even do that when it wasn't even an actual job? He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to take the chance, despite how much he wanted to spend the day looking for Stan instead. As he was getting ready, he felt guilty. What if Stan was lying dead in a back alley somewhere? He knew he was over reacting, but Stan had been out alone all night in the city, and Kyle couldn't help but worry. He just hoped that he had managed to stay safe and warm.
When Kyle stepped in to the elevator, he was wondering how he could make it through the day. Would he even be able to concentrate? All that was on his mind right now was Stan, and the words he had said the night before wouldn't stop echoing and repeating in his mind. He didn't know if he could concentrate on anything else.
As the doors slid closed, the door to the stairwell down the hall opened. Kyle didn't see it.
"Kyle, I want to apologise"
Kyle looked up from the keyboard, where his hands had been hovering for the past ten minutes, to find Laura standing by his desk. "You do?" He asked, remembering what had happened between them the night before. He had almost completely forgotten about it.
"Yeah... I shouldn't have manipulated you like that... It's a habit of mine, I'm working on it" she offered him a smile, and Kyle smiled halfheartedly back at her. "Are you alright?" She asked, surprising Kyle that she was actually paying attention to him now, rather than just seeing what she wanted to see.
"Not really... But can we not talk about this right now? I just want to focus on my work"
"Alright, I'll just be in the staff lounge, then" she said, patting his arm as she left.
Kyle was surprised at the sudden shift in her attitude. Had what he said finally got through to her? He wasn't sure if she was actually trying to change, or if she was just trying a new tactic. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, along with everything else, and his fingers began to work furiously once again.
When he finally left the building at the end of his shift, he found Laura waiting for him outside once more. He groaned and took the other exit, hoping she hadn't seen him. She might have had good intentions, but he just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
When he finally got there, he realised he had made the right decision by doing so because, as the elevator doors slipped open, he found Stan sat on the floor outside their apartment, leaning against the wall and sleeping.
Kyle first let out a sigh of relief and thanked God he was safe, and then he stepped forward before the doors could close on him. He unlocked and opened the door, then bent down next to Stan to put his friends arm around his shoulder to gently lift him up. Stan groaned at the disturbance.
"Shh, Stan, come on, let's get you to bed" he spoke quietly, and Stan sleepily complied. Kyle shut and locked the door behind them before leading Stan to his bedroom, it seemed like he was doing this too often.
As soon as Stan lay down, he fell asleep. Kyle doubted if he was even aware of what had just happened. Kyle sighed and frowned, heading to the kitchen. It looked like he would be eating dinner alone tonight.
