Boy of Glass

Seeing Warren, Nathan's anger had completely disappeared, turning it into a mixture of excitement and butterflies, flatting their wings in Nathan's stomach, making him smile quietly even though he tried to resist. His knees started to shake when he turned his head around, seeing Max. Nathan jumped and hid behind one of the cars, where he could observe him with silent fascination.

As always.

He swallowed as he flushed, and he dried his sweaty hands on his pants. Warren Daniel Graham, born November 10, 1996, making Nathan more than two years older than him and about two inches tinier. Sweet 17. For being that young, Warren had a little (or much) more muscles than Nathan, and apart from Nathan's "bad posture", as Mark would say it, Warren was taller than him, too.

Warren … the other half of reasons that kept him awake in the middle of the night, his secret desire nobody but Vic knew about, as unreachable to him as Moby Dick to Captain Ahab, and yet they belonged together as the old man and the sea. Nathan's heart hurt every time he saw him walking down the hallway, talking to that girl or Brooke, not giving a shit about Nathan. Well, who could blame him? Nathan didn't give a shit about himself, either. He had eyes like a fawn, hazel and with long lashes, not deigning to look at Nathan as he was passing by, smelling the fragrance of Warren's deodorant he somehow loved applying way too much. Nathan smiled gently; Warren had a lot to learn.

He was wearing his dark shirt with the blue stripe on it. Nathan knew all of his shirts, but the one with the box on it, saying "meow", was his favorite one. He was leaning against a shitty, blue car which was probably his own. Its license plate was called "THXFLS", which reminded Nathan of the old tv series called "The X-Files". He had used to watch it excitedly, and he was hoped Warren was into that stuff, too. Nathan wondered if he would ever find himself sitting next to him, driving somewhere. Maybe far away from Arcadia Bay.

But reality was different. Nathan took a deep breath as he saw Max fooling around with him, and Warren, smiling clumsily, trying to convince her to "go ape" with her. God, if Warren knew how much Nathan loved these films. … He probably wouldn't care.

"Make sure you watch 'Cannibal Holocaust'," Nathan suddenly heard Warren say, smiling shyly. No he didn't …! Warren didn't knew one of Nathan's favorite films of all time! So brutal and dark. Maybe, maybe Nathan could show Warren his film wall, he was sure there'd be some Warren would like, too! … Then Nathan remembered: Nobody liked him at Blackwell, and Warren probably didn't even know his first name.

They were seeing his name and his money, but they didn't see the boy behind it. … Nathan sighed. Who could blame them for this. Nathan didn't even know himself if there was someone behind it.

"No fucking way I'll watch that! My mind is twisted enough," Max said, outraged. Oh boo hoo, little bitch, then maybe you should continue snitching on other people instead of wasting Warren's time.

Nathan couldn't hold it anymore. The anger Warren had washed away had crawled into Nathan's stomach again. Why did he care about this bitch? She was lame as fuck and Warren shouldn't waste his time with giving a shit about her bitching about his movies, when there would be so much cool stuff awaiting him, if he only … only …

"Max Caulfield, right?" Nathan heard himself say as he had stood up and begun heading toward them. He froze, not believing that he had actually done this. Warren looked at him in surprise, but it wasn't that much of a good surprise, more like a pretty shitty surprise. The sort of surprise you had when someone had brought you an Xbox one when you already had an Xbox one s (Vic was such a sweetheart though, but sometimes, she really put her foot in it).

God, his fluffy brown hair was killing him. No …! Nathan held his breath, he needed to stay focused on Max.

"You're one of the Jefferson's photo groupies," he claimed.

Shit, Warren looked at him, not knowing what to await. Shit, shit, shit. Why couldn't this bastard stop looking at Nathan? Without thinking, Nathan lifted his hands and pushed Warren away. His shirt was so soft. Nathan felt his headache crawling up his spine. Shit, not now!

"I'm one of his students," Max said. No fucking shit.

"Whatthefuckever," Nathan snarled, "I know you like to take pictures, especially when you're hiding out in the bathrooms. You best tell me what you saw. Now!"

She looked at him sternly, trying to cover up her fear. That's right, you better shit your pants because I'm not messing around. She awkwardly glanced at him, taking ages to respond. Looked like she was trying to figure put what she needed to say in order to calm Nathan, not making him any angrier.

"Answer me, bitch!" Nathan ordered, trying to avoid Warren's gaze. Shit, now it was the back of his head that hurt like hell. Shit shit shit. He needed to take his medicine right now! But then, Warren would know Nathan was so much more of a creep than he appeared to be.

"Nothing but a butterfly," Max replied with that cheeky smile. Did she want to impress Warren? No fucking way.

"You're full of shit," Nathan hissed, "I'd respect you more if you'd told me the truth." He clenched his fists, as his dark black anger was crawling through his body, crippling his mind, making him numb and fill with rage.

"I don't need your respect," Max hissed. Sneaky bitch. Maybe not as dumb as Nathan had thought. Time to play the family card.

"You're clueless. You have no idea who I am or what I can do." Everybody knew that, and Max better learned fast where she belonged.

"Actually, I have a pretty good idea of who you are."

"Do not analyze me! I pay people for that!" Nathan shouted, clenching his fist and feeling the urge to punch that cunt in her stupid face, directly on her cute freckles. Everybody – everybody – was trying to lecture him, to "take a look behind the facade". Sean, Dr. Bill, Wells, Mark and all of the other teachers, that punk ass Chloe and now her. Everything was fine, more or less, everybody knew that they shouldn't mess with him, and he wouldn't let that twee bitch ruin it.

Ugh! Another stab in the head; the sounds got blurry. Nathan tried not to sag at his knees.

"Worry about yourself, Max Caulfield," Nathan said, intending to go get a shower and some rest before collapsing right in front of Warren.

"Take a step back, Nathan Prescott," Max ordered. – "Oh man, you're telling me what to do?"

This is what you get for snooping, fucking snitch. – Shit …! Another attack; Nathan oppressed the urge of holding his head. He needed to go now. He held his breath as he felt cold sweat running down his neck. He was actually going to collapse …! Attacks like a fucking thunder strike were penetrating his head, and got worse every second.

Then again, cold rage: Why did Warren care about that stupid cunt? She was such a lame, ugly, annoying, fake–

"Get away from her, dude!"

I an outburst of rage, Nathan wasted his last ounce of strength, headbutting Warren.

"Hey, leave him alone!"

"Nobody tells me what to do!" Nathan yelled, grabbing Max' neck. Oh, her sweet eyes staring at him, frozen in terror as he was suffocating her. Christ, it felt so good burying his thumb in her soft neck, pressing on her larynx, hearing her groan.

Rachel's death had fucked him up. He knew it, while he was choking her. Maybe he was sick.

"Not my parents, not the Principal, or that whore in the bathroom," he growled.

"Stop that, right now!" Max screamed, trying to defend her little ass. Then she managed to put her hand on Nathan's cheek, and he cried out and pushed her aside when she scratched his face. Suddenly, a white SUV stopped right in front of them, and as Nathan looked up, he couldn't believe what he saw. There she was! The stupid hoe from the bathroom, picking up Max and saving her ass. Lucky bastard, next time he would kick her ass!

"No way! You again?"

But before Nathan could manage to follow her, he heard Warren scream, "Go, go! I got this!" Then, he felt a sharp pain in his back as both of the smashed on the ground.

Why?!

In a fit of anger, Nathan took a swing and punched Nathan in his beautiful face. Curved red lips got pinched, and big eyes squinted within seconds as his knuckles touched them.

Why won't you like me?!

Warren screamed as Nathan's fist stroke his head, twice, three times, four times. Nathan had lost his mind. Everything was a blur, the only thing he felt was his throbbing head, spinning around like a fucking carousel, and Warren's soft face under his knuckles.

Why won't you understand?!

Then, Nathan mechanically got up, kicking Chloe's door as she was about to drive off. "Get your punk asses out of here now! Don't even try to run! Nobody messes with me! NOBODY!"

Then he turned around, blinded with rage. There he was, holding his bleeding face. Nathan froze.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! What had he done …!

"F-Fuck, Warren, I–"

"Ugh, d-don't you dare to t-touch her again, psycho!" Warren yelled, wiping off the blood of his chapped lips. His right eye was blue and green. Nathan's heart broke, seeing him like this. Nathan gasped, this couldn't be real …! He dizzily looked at his knuckles, glowing red, and he suddenly felt like puking.

Then, Warren ran away, leaving Nathan alone in the lot, feeling like shit. Great. Now, Warren knew who the fuck he was. A pathetic piece of shit, a little twat with anger issues and shitload of psychological problems. Sometimes, his body felt like glass, transparent to everybody, exposing his racing heart and his sick, dark thoughts. And then, doing these things to Warren, made it splinter, making huge crack shivering through his crystalline bones.

Nathan knew that it was full of breaches, and he wondered how much it would take to make his body shatter into pieces.

Nathan swallowed some pills as he started heading towards the dormitories, trying to suppress the sudden urge of crying and puking at the same time, when suddenly, he got another attack. He cried out as he was holding his head, but this time, it was different – the sharp pain in his forehead, it had gotten worse, and Nathan gasped, trying not to fall on his knees. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why now!? Was that the result of headbutting Warren?

Slowly, it got quiet, and all Nathan heard was a high-pitched note, penetrating his head. Nathan screamed while holding his ears, desperately trying not to fall over. Was there a voice? Or had Nathan now started getting totally insane? His cheeks were glowing and a hot flash was overcoming him, as he suddenly froze: he wasn't able to breath anymore.

Then everything got dark, and the last thing he felt was his head smashing on the ground.

It was cold. The dazzling light of the huge lamps was shining on him, making him sweat. He wasn't able to breath. He wanted to be quiet, but he couldn't stop the gasping. Her sticky hair was wet, soaked with vomit and saliva, laying lifelessly on the ground, hiding her blank eyes. They had been opened for some time. Dried tears were covering her face. Her mouth was chapped and its corners torn by her screaming. Soft hands were laying on a cold ground, fingers were sticking up with bitten nails on it, covered by dirty black nail polish. He said her name. Once, twice, three times, four times, five times. But she didn't respond.

"No," he mouthed to himself as he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her body, "no, no, no, no, no–" Hot tears were running down glowing cheeks, falling on his fingers, which he buried in her black shirt. He ripped it off, then he checked her heartbeat as he laid his ears on dead flesh, trying to listen to an organ which remained silent. He couldn't concentrate; he heard his blood rush in his ears. Silence. It was suffocating him. He could hear his blood pouring through his veins as he checked again. No answer. Again.

Then he leaned over and pressed his lips on hers, and his first kiss smelled like saliva, vomit and tears. He almost broke his fingers, trying to press on her chest … but nothing happened.

"Don't, don't, no, no, no," he stuttered as a cry escaped his chapped lips, "no, no, no, this can't be, fuck, fuck , FUCK, don't do that to me!"

Silence.

"Wake up!" he cried as he collapsed on top of her cold chest, struggling to breath. "Wake up …! Wake up! Wake up!"

"Wake up! "

This voice. It sounded familiar. Rachel? Was it her? Oh god, Rachel. How long had you been away? Half a year, at least. Oh Rachel, don't you dare to scare me this much once a time. He knew she would come back. He knew it wasn't the end.

"W-where have you been?" Nathan said dizzily. God, his head was spinning. Then he noticed his head hurting more and more, resulting in a sharp pain in the back of his head. He slowly opened his eyes, seeing somebody lean over him, but he couldn't recognize who it was. The sun was dazzling and he needed to squint his eyes. He lifted his hand and covered his eyes from the sun rays.

"Can you hear me? You're bleeding … Are you, are you in pain? Shall I call the ambulance …?"

God, this voice. So soft, so fragile, just like an angel.

Then, the rest of his body finally woke up, and Nathan noticed himself laying on the ground. Right. Poor Warren had gotten beaten up by him. Then he had passed out. His head was throbbing and it kind of felt injured. Nathan removed his hands to see who had been taking care of him. Slowly, his eyes began to focus.

No fucking way.

"Get the fuck off me, bitch," Nathan hissed as he looked into Kate's swollen eyes, staring at him. Her face was puffy from crying, and her nose was glowing like the one of Rudolph the fucking reindeer. Her hair was greasy, and it was hanging down her forehead like a curtain. It was the lamest brown Nathan had ever seen. Nathan shivered with disgust. How could someone have a crush on her? Even though Nathan didn't crush on any of the Blackwell girls, he knew that Vic, for example, was hot as fuck, so why couldn't she be more like her? But then again, nobody could beat his queen.

"I said get off me, you twee bitch, not interested in some church porn," Nathan yelled as he stood up, making Kate jump aside. In spite of swaying like a drunk and almost falling over again, he managed to regain his balance.

"Are you lost?" he asked as he saw her red eyes glaring at him.

"Somebody made me do that, and you know it," Kate suddenly said while trying so hard to sound firmly. Jesus, Nathan wouldn't be this much of a dick when she would just stop threaten the plans of Mark and him.

"Shut your dirty mouth. Nobody did shit to you. Bet you enjoyed it, getting high and shit, showing Jesus what's what," Nathan laughed. "Now piss off."

Kate's eyes turned red again and she wiped off some tears. God, it was almost too easy.

"You'll be sorry one day," she cried, then she ran away, almost tripping over a stick laying around. What a fucking crybaby.

Nathan held his head. Christ, she really got a talent for getting on his fucking nerves. He took a look at the phone, trying to know how long he'd been asleep, just to remember Vic asking him to hang out. Then he left, lightning a cig, thinking about the second time passing out this month.

The same dream as always. But thankfully not that long.

When would this stop?

"Nate, did you finally enter a photo? You have so much good ones," Vic said, taking a drag on her cig. She had recently bought a package of Insignia, the best brand, as Nathan and her thought. Her lipstick left a red stain on her cig, which was pretty hot. He lifted his arm and laid it on her pillows, then she rested her head on his shoulders, cuddling up to him, thoughtfully taking another drag. Laying on her bed, hugging and smoking, made them appear like a couple, and almost everybody at Blackwell thought so, too. Of course they weren't, but it was fun tricking them into thinking they were. Nathan closed his eyes, listening to Édith Piaf's "La Vie En Rose" which was playing on her speaker. The soft smoke was surrounding them, mixing with Édith's smooth voice. The cigs were tasting good, as well.

"No, I don't give a fuck about this contest," Nathan replied. Vic rolled her big eyes. Sometimes, she reminded him of Twiggy, and every time Nathan told her that, she denied, but he was sure she secretly wanted to look like her.

"We only have time 'till Wednesday," she said, lost in thought, "I hope Mr. Jefferson picks my entry though. Sisco with him would be fabulous. It's such a shame that you don't have class with him, he's so chill, and handsome, and hot, ohmygod. He's like, the man you would marry, you know? I can't decide wether I wanna go on dates and shit with him or instantly get fucked by him." Vic's lips formed a sassy smile.

"Jeez, shut your whore mouth, you slut," Nathan said, and Vic giggled.

"You think he's into me?" she asked seductively. Nathan thought about that for a while. Mark didn't seem to crush on her. In fact, Mark never really crushed on anyone, actually. Something Nathan hadn't thought about, yet. Mark always concentrated on his images, he craved for nice shots and not for love or sex. At least this is what Nathan had noticed. Even though Rachel had tried to hit on him, he had denied her offers, but not because of her being 17 back then, but because of him just not being interested. But to be honest, Nathan was quite sure that Mark didn't care about Vic. He hadn't even chosen her as a potential model – something Nathan was, of course, very happy about! He wouldn't know what to do if Mark decided to frame her. But Mark thought she was too pretentious, too posed, too snobby. Both Mark and Nathan knew that this was bullshit, since Vic was actually pretty insecure, but all of Marks models had something in common: they weren't fake. Authenticity, innocence and naivety was what Mark desired to capture.

Rachel Amber hadn't been someone like that. She may have been interesting, mysterious or real, but she had been too much of a person she wanted to be. She hadn't been innocent, she had already been "ruined" by that junkie Frank. Mark had thought of her as his masterpiece – but only for the first days. Then he had recognized that she had been a teen like everybody else, standing out because of her wanderlust and her urge to see distant places, like Vegas or L. A. He had went crazy, finding out about her dragon tattoo, losing the desire of capturing her. Kate Marsh had been more his type of model, actually. It had been Nathan who had thought he could've been equal to Mark's work and Rachel Amber.

He hadn't been.

"Yeah, I totally do, but Mark-, I mean, Mr. Jefferson's so old, like, you deserve so much better, Vic," Nathan said.

"But he's really kinda hot for an older guy, I think," Vic said, smiling like she was up to something again, "whatever. Your knuckles are red, you been getting in trouble again, Josh?" Nathan cringed hearing that name.

Nathan didn't respond for a while, making Vic take a worried look at him. "I … I kinda beat him up, you know …" Nathan whispered as he took a deep breath, "I better say it now: Max has seen me with the gun and that bitch snitched on me to Wells. Idiot me went full berserk when Warren tried to protect her."

Vic stared at him.

"You did what? Nate, come on," she said and sighed desperately, "what are you doing …?"

Then they silenced. Nathan looked at his legs, inhaling deeply. I don't know, Vic. Since the whole thing with Rachel Amber, I feel like I'm beginning to lose the ground under my feet, it's slowly disappearing and I don't know what to do, where to jump when there's nothing left. Everybody's always pushing me, you're the only one who doesn't. Who accepts me the way I am. … I killed a girl, Vic. I killed Rachel Amber everybody's talking of. I saw her writhing in pain, crawling on the ground, retching because of the overdose. First it was just white and clear, then it got red. She was vomiting blood. Then I cried for help, but it was too late, and Mark made me wait outside, I was puking because I couldn't stop crying. These pictures, Vic, the things I have seen and I have done, are engraved in my memory. And they're coming out. I try to suppress them with drugs and alcohol. But I can't stand it any longer.

It's killing me.

"I just … I got another of these attacks, and … Warren had protected Max, and this got me furious."

"Max? That chickenshit wannabe hipster? I so hate that bitch. She comforted me when I got paint all over my body, and that was, like, the weirdest thing ever. I later texted her that this doesn't mean shit and we ain't friends. I bet she wishes. But why did she see you though?"

"I was at the girl's potty. I was feeling like shit, and then this punk bitch Chloe came, the one with the tatts and the blue hair, and I threatened her."

"Oh crap," Vic said, putting out her cig, "holy shit, that's not good. Nate, I told you not to buy a gun. I knew this would happen. Why didn't you call me while you been getting another panic attack? … And why did you get it in the first place?"

Nathan held his breath, then he told her everything. The things about Hayden calling him gay, and Nathan punching him in the face because of that, and she showed Hayden's pathetic attempt of getting at her, texting her "hey beauty, what u been up to? Im just wearing my jersey and that's it. what u doing?". Then, Nathan told her about Warren's and his fight.

"I'm sorry, Nate. Another shitty day, right?"

"Every retard would see how much Warren crushes on her. Oh man, that sucks," Nathan said and Vic looked at him with sympathy.

"Don't give up hope, hon," she said smiling, "maybe Max's his camouflage, like his alibi. Just as I am yours."

Vic. Vic was so sweet and caring. Nathan was so glad to have her. She had always known. She had guessed it back then. "The way you look at him, the way you want his attention," she had said, "it's obvious." But they had been flirty and everything, so the others wouldn't find out.

"I have an idea," Vic said, "you still got your spray stuff, right?" Then she smiled diabolically.

"I'm sorry, Vic, but I can't get the stain out of your jack–" Taylor suddenly said, gatecrashing their company, "oh, hey Nathan."

"Yo, Taylor, whassup," he said, and Vic stood up.

"It's ok, Tay, it's just a jacket. Sorry for being so pissed. Ready to see your mom?"

Taylor smiled widely. "Thanks for joining me. You're the best."

"I know, bitch," Vic said smiling.

"You can chill here, if you want," she said to Nate, approaching her bed, "I'm driving Taylor to her mom. And I'll text ya later about my idea."

They kissed on their cheeks, then she disappeared behind her door. As soon as she was gone, Nathan closed his eyes, trying to relax for a minute. The sun was shining through Vic's window, and the sun beams were falling on her laptop which was showing a pic of her an Nathan, pulling a face. Nathan loved this photo. On top of that, a tiny clock. 05:55 pm

Nathan smiled; what a fun time.

05:55?

"SHIT!" Nathan said as he jumped from her bed. "Shit, Mark will be pissed …!"

Nathan ran to the lot, trying not think about the last time being there, then he started his car, and as the clock stroke six, the red SUV had already disappeared in the forests of Arcadia Bay.