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Where The White Boys Dance; 'From the whiskey to the keys...' - Fields Home, January 27th of Freshman Year
Topic Started: Mar 13 2016, 09:54 AM (967 Views)
Rorick Skyve
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Maxim's heart skipped a beat when his friend decided to push past Ben and position himself right between their host and the German. So close, too close for his taste, at least usually. But not now, not this time around. He could swear that he could feel the breath of his friend on his face, heavy with the odor of cheap booze - either that or it was just wishful thinking on his part.

At least Alex seemed to have calmed down already. Ben sure knew how to defuse an awkward situation, he had to give it to him. Level-headed and socially competent, down to earth as well. Almost a shame that Maxim was paying so little attention to him at the moment, but Alex's presence was simply too much to ignore.

God, comparing himself to Hugh Hefner? And that smug grin as well. Maxim knew Alex was a huge show-off, had tendencies to act like a prick at times, all of which usually bothered him quite a lot and he would not recoil from pointing out to his friend. But it didn't bother him this time. Oddly enough, he thought it was kind of...charming?

Verdammt, Mann. That smile, that fucking smile, why can't he stop smiling like that? I just want to...Scheiße, nein, fuck! I need to stop thinking about it...Need to say something...just anything...

"Really, Al? That one-liner just now, I have to say: That was weak, Kumpel. Sounded like you borrowed it from 'Flirting 101', or something." Maxim had just quipped the first thing that had come to his mind. It certainly wasn't something he'd usually say, not his type of humor at all. In fact, he himself didn't like his own jest one bit. Alex on the other hand, he seemed to take pleasure in his statement.

"Maxim, my man! Starting to get on my level now, are you, amigo? Knew a little hooch was just what your German ass needed." His grin had only gotten wider. Great, just great. Now he couldn't get his eyes off his friend's lips again. There were those thoughts again...

Maxim's head was starting to hurt, the chatter around him only seemed to increase in volume with each passing second, penetrating and shrill. He didn't even notice that he had just taken another sip, the rim of his cup was wandering to his mouth almost on its own by now. Ben. Ben was saying something. Maxim grimaced slightly, trying to push aside the growing throb within his head and concentrate on what his host had to say. He owed him that much.

Something about how he was able to put up with Alex. Then something about his cup. Goddamn music, he could barely understand a word anymore! Or was there even any music? Maybe he was just starting to hear things... Cup, he was fairly certain Ben had mentioned a cup. Instinctively, he looked down at his own, only to find it was now empty. Was Ben offering him another drink? He should probably decline, too much of it in his system already.

Need to stop, before it gets worse...But fucking...I'm still so thirsty.

Maxim looked back at Alex' face, that well toned, well shaped, handsome visage of his. Fuck.

He couldn't take it, couldn't bear staring at his companion's face for another second. Panicking, his eyes darted around the room and his fingers visibly tensed up. His gaze finally found the bottle of whiskey, the same Ben had poured him a drink from earlier, now standing on a table not too far away from him. Still filled to one third.

Scheiß drauf, I need it.

Maxim rubbed his eyes, then gently pushed Alex out of his way. "Scuse me for a sec." He had touched him. Only his arm, but still, he had touched him. Why'd his skin have to be so goddamn soft and warm? No matter. He had to get himself another drink. Try not to think about Alex. Try not to think about him. About his face. His gorgeous lips. About how he wanted to kiss them so badly...

His jowls quivering with excitement, he took hold of the bottle in front of him. Wait. He couldn't just take it, not just like that. Though clouded, his mind still reminded him that he was a guest and as such, he had to try and behave accordingly. He turned his head back and looked at his host with glazed eyes. "Mind if...if I take some?"



Edited by Rorick Skyve, Mar 23 2016, 01:06 PM.
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Alex's presence was too much to ignore. Ben's eyes had returned to earth and found upon it a blight. How any girl in their right mind could have liked this guy was one of the great secrets of the universe. That said, girls on girls on girls. Ben would have been jealous if he didn't find it all kind of sad. Like freshman flings- high school romances in general- were ever going to matter in the long run.

"... Sounded like you borrowed it from 'Flirting 101', or something."

Well that was lame. Alex was right about one thing, Maxim was being dragged down to some lowest common denominator. Seriously, who the fuck called it 'hooch'? Ben's own mother probably would have been embarrassed.

And the attempts at conversation with Max were falling flat. Hero he might have been, but at this point it was like talking to a brick wall. Probably wouldn't even have made a difference if Alex hadn't spontaneously become a net Ben had to hustle to serve quips over. Maxim had at least started out sort of cool. Maybe he was easily distracted. Might have had things on his own mind. Didn't make him any less of an awkward prick. Well fuck, at least all of this had managed to wrestle Ben's mind away from a bad place. He was too busy generally feeling ashamed of-slash-sorry for everyone in his immediate presence to really want to dwell too much on things of the past.

And then Maxim had suddenly smashed Alex out of the way. Dude had some kinda look in his eyes that unnerved Ben. Unfocused, maybe not all there. Distracted. What was that one badass quote? 'Beware the man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain'. Maxim was hankering to gain some alcohol, apparently. An entire fucking third of a bottle thereof. Some part of Ben, namely his brain, told him that wasn't really in anybody's best interest. He was prepared to retort, but Alex beat him to the punch:

"Maxim! Makin' your old man proud tonight! First comes the bottle, then comes the women-... ey! Ben! Pass that shit over here, let's get down to business eh?"

... Whatever. Ben just didn't have the energy for it all of a sudden. When he had become a pansy ass he didn't know, but he wasn't in the mood to do much besides passively let it all happen. Just wasn't worth the noise. He could easily kick Alex and Maxim out on their asses if they became nuisances. Whatever kind of reassurance that was supposed to be. Ben grunted noncommittally, prepared to spare only a final few thoughts before he let them be. A careless hand over of the bottle nearly saw it clubbing Alex in the face, but 'Hugh Hefner' was too giddy at the prospect of a bottle to himself to notice or care. Alex took a healthy swig that decimated the leftover booze within, then handed it to Maxim.

"Hit the spot! Bottoms up, my man!"

'He was too busy generally feeling ashamed of-slash-sorry for everyone in his immediate presence.'

Ben decided he'd just continue to mull over that. Way over there, on the other side of the dinner table. He in no way excused himself from his own targeted shame.
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Maxim was leaning on an nearby table with one hand, trying to make it look like he was doing a casual pose, but in reality, he was merely trying to hold his balance. Why did the room have to shake and spin like that? That didn't help at all.

Way too many voices at once. Why couldn't they just all shut their mouths, stop torturing him? They were doing it on purpose, of course, babbling and babbling until he lost his nerve. Bunch of pricks, all of them.

"Maxim! Makin' your old man proud tonight! First comes the bottle, then comes the women-..." Alex. What the fuck did he know about anything? Maxim wasn't here to make anyone proud, wasn't here to get with a girl - hell, he wasn't even sure why he was there at all. Didn't matter anymore, he was here now and had to live with it.

He turned around to face his friend again, clumsily so, almost slipping and twisting his leg in the process.

Junge, don't fuck this up now. Just take the bottle, slow and easy. No need to fucking panic now.

He watched the other boy take a swig, then tenderly extended his hand to accept the bottle from him. Once again, his eyes betrayed his own will and slowly wandered towards the lower part of Alex' face, hovering over his lips, which were still glistening wet. Geez, why'd the guy have to be so goddamn hot?

Need to stop staring, before he notices. Eyes off the lips, verdammt nochmal! But...really I wonder...

How do they taste like?


Did he want to find out? Yes, definitely. Why not just admit it to himself? He wanted to make out with his best friend. And it made sense, really, it all made sense, now that he thought about it. He had always wondered why he liked the fucking guy so much, why he followed him everywhere like an oversized lapdog despite his tendencies to be obnoxious, despite the fact that he didn't find his jokes funny at all, despite all the times he had wished to have never met him. Alex was simply attractive to him. And he, Maxim, he was nothing but a shallow fucking hypocrite.

This epiphany was too much for the already bemused boy to bear and he decided to deal with it in the only manner he currently saw fit - by taking the bottle and downing its entire content in one go. All of his sense for decency had been befuddled, along with his judgment. Maxim was far past giving a damn about it at this point. A few chugs, some driblets wetting his clothes, heat rising in his stomach and throat, done. He didn't even bother wiping his mouth, he just put empty bottle down on the table next to him - though putting it down was quite the understatement.

To hell with it, he felt fantastic now, fucking ecstatic even. So what if he was staggering around like some poor devil during the sinking of the Titanic? What did he care how he looked like, he didn't give a damn about any of those other people anyway! They could judge all they wanted, he didn't care. Only one guy he cared about in that entire goddamn room. And he was standing right in front of him.

"Whoa there, big guy! Where'd all that eagerness come from? Didn't think some cheap ass booze like that one would get you all on fire like that!" His grin widened and he crossed his arms. Still looking fucking perfect. "Or maybe you've been a damn juicehead all these years and never told your old pal Alex, hm? Showing us all the real Maxim tonight, are ya?" The German only flashed a grin in response.

You bet I am, hotshot.

He took a shaky step towards his target, keeping eye contact, devouring those beautiful deep blue eyes with his own. The other boy's smile faded slightly, he raised an eyebrow in mild confusion. "Watch where you're going, you walking pile of meat. You wanna knock me over or something?"

Oh Gott, that hunky voice...

He walked forwards again, getting even closer to Alex this time. He looked so fine up close like this. So goddamn handsome. Too late to walk away now, no getting out of that stunt. Might as well go all the way through with it.
Alex tried to back up, but it only took him two steps for his back to meet the wall behind him. The cornered boy's expression changed. Anger was written all over it now.

"Seriously man, you're way past critical on the creepy scale here! This ain't funny, kay? Back off, dude." What was he so upset about? He wasn't going to hurt him, not even harm him in any way. Maybe Alex would even like it. Yes, he would, he had to. Nothing wrong in what Maxim was going to do. He was just doing both of them a favor, really.

The German approached his friend until he was close enough to smell the other boy's breath. Flavor was even sweeter than usual, now that it was pregnant with the odor of whiskey. Fuck, he couldn't bear it anymore. Every inch of him felt tingly. His veins were on fire. He had to do it.

"Final fucking warning, man! You come any closer, I'll knock you flat on your ass, you hear me?"

No, you won't.

For one moment, Maxim was simply standing there, blinking, breathing heavily, mouth slightly agape. He could feel his heartbeat pounding heavily in his chest. It felt like it was going to burst any moment. Hurt so fucking much. He had to make it stop.

In one quick movement, he caught the other boy in a fierce embrace and closed his eyes as he forcefully brought his lips down on his.



Edited by Rorick Skyve, Mar 24 2016, 03:09 AM.
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((GMing approved.))

Maxim was losing it over that bottle. There were babies with better form and poise in their sips.

Final few thoughts spared.

Ben wondered if there were any other folks at the party who would make for better conversation. For less awkward back and forth and inebriation. Maybe Luz had come to the party, he was a pretty cool dude. After Alex and Maxim finally pulled their asses from the apparently magnetic pull of the bottles in the kitchen Ben could have five minutes to check out the rest of the party. His own birthday party, he pretty much had to remind himself. Kitchen was essentially empty save for the three, most of the noise was coming from the adjacent living room. Someone had an iSomething out and was blasting tunes, probably to make up for the lack of shitty pop music to dance to. So much for the 'no lame ass pop radio shit' clause. Well any minute now the dudes would be finding the girls and macking and grinding away, and Ben swore to god that if any of those girls was a certain blood relative of his-

Macking. And grinding away.

Holy shit.

Ben had heard Alex getting increasingly angry about something but he hadn't been paying attention. He'd wrongly assumed it was just usual dude banter. So when he looked up and saw dudes exchanging something that definitely wasn't banter he almost retched. Maybe, maybe that was an exaggeration.

Ben could see all the hideous detail from his angle away from the action. He wanted to tear his eyes away and he almost did, until he realized Alex looked freaked out as fuck. Squirming, struggling against the faggot holding him down. Hell no. Step in. Now. Ben bounded from his chair so fast he sent it crashing to the floor, very much prepared to hurt Maxim as much as necessary to get it off his friend. Maxim deserved no more courtesy than minimization of bodily harm to standards acceptable by the law. Not after this.

"Yo, get the hell off him you-!" Ben closed the distance and clamped as much as he dared over Maxim's shoulder, yanking with all his strength. Maxim must have been surprised by the sudden intervention, because suddenly there was a fistful of fag smashing into Ben's cheek. Ben's guard was down, he toppled like dominoes. Scattered over the floor like dominoes. Ben only barely caught himself and grit his teeth as his palms were rudely sacrificed to absorb the shock of his fall.
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There was a void in Maxim's mind. Just one big, empty space. He couldn't see, didn't bother listening to the meaningless echoes around him. All he wanted to do was feel, savor every second of those sentiments that made his blood rush and his head spin, all with his eyes closed. There was warmth, intense heat on his face and lips and even within him. He couldn't have described it again had he ever wanted to. Hot breath and a curious taste lingering, somehow sweet and bitter and salty at the same time. Or maybe his brain was just too dumbfounded to recognize it. It didn't matter, really. All Maxim knew was that it was there and he didn't want it to go away. Wanted to cling to every single sensation.

The first kiss was something special, he knew that. That's what people had always told him. But in no way had it prepared him for this. This was just overwhelming, a mix of rush and rapture and inebriation. Pure fucking ecstasy.

He did regret not knowing what Alex was feeling in that second. He was focusing too much on himself to be able to read that. There was a struggle, yes. Some squirming. Could mean anything, really. None of Maxim's concern. Just let the moment last. Forever, if possible.

And then suddenly, another sensation. A hand on his shoulder, a yank. Out of the goddamn blue. It surprised him, not only that, but it destroyed his perfect world of sensation, just pierced through it and brought him back to reality. And thus, all that bliss evaporated and was replaced by blind rage. His one hand let go of Alex' shoulder and lashed out, blindly aiming for anything or anyone behind him, whatever was trying to stop what he was doing.

Hit. He felt a sting, pain in his fist. It had collided with something, someone. He had hit someone. Hurt someone. The thought seeped through, broke into his fogged mind and it was enough to instantly wipe out any selfish desire or fury within in.

Nein. Nein, nein, Scheiße, fucking god, please no!

It was the last thing that he had wanted, to inflict harm on someone else. Even with all of the alcohol in his blood and brain, that fact didn't change. It was something he could not bear, just couldn't handle.

Maxim let go of the other boy, clumsily pushed himself off him and tried to turn around, see the harm he had caused. He almost slipped and fell, but managed to get into a staggering stance, somehow. There he was.
His vision was blurred, but he could still make out the shape of some person on the ground. Wait, not just some person. Something familiar about him, something about his clothes, his hair...

No.

It couldn't have been Ben, could it? Maxim couldn't have just knocked his own host over, defied any sense of decency, like some sort of rabid savage. He was in shock. Didn't dare to move, couldn't budge an inch. He didn't know what to do. Help him up, say he was sorry? What good was it, now that the damage was already done?

Maxim didn't get another second to think it over, as he was suddenly and rudely pushed from behind, a kick to his back followed and he was sent tumbling to the floor. He had no time to react or catch his fall, the front of his body made hard contact with the ground.

"You little fucking shitdick!" Alex. It was his voice, definitely. The German didn't look at him, but even so, he was able to imagine the expression of pure hatred on his friend's face, which his words conveyed. "All this fucking time, you sick fuck! All this time I've been hanging with a motherfucking faggot? You fucking fraud, you fake-ass piece of shit! I should beat your sorry ass into the ground!"

Maxim did nothing. He didn't even bother lifting himself off the floor. He felt empty again, but different this time. Like he didn't even want to live anymore, he would have preferred to just vanish into thin air and be immediately forgotten. Better than to have to live and endure his existence collapsing into nothing but a worthless mess.

"Dear god", he muttered, "just kill me."

He then closed his eyes again, expecting another kick or anything of the sort to follow. But nothing happened. There was only absolute silence. The worst thing that Maxim could have hoped for, as he was left with nothing but his own, suffocating thoughts for that moment.

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Attacked on his own birthday. At face value it could have been a kinda coming of age ritual. But the thing that had sent him flying... No rest for the wicked. Ben girded himself with breath, steely inhalation tightening his chest. First, get up.

Someone else fell. Alex had been freed after all. Rescue mission, colorful success. Ben rescued himself, this time catching no more than a face full of Alex's whiskey-ed breath. Both boys separated to reasonable distance the moment they realized their mutual mistakes. Exchanged looks. Alex's face was contorted into disgusted rage, like it had every right to be. He wore it pretty well, better than his usual douchenozzle shit-eating grins.

"You alright man?" Ben spared Maxim a glance. No more.

"No. I just got fucking...- Shit! Fuckin' ruined your birthday by bringing this fag around. Man, if I had known-"

"You couldn't have known. It's all whatever." There weren't many options on the table, really. It was all a simple mop up operation from here on out. Alex probably needed some time to recover, and Ben gave him that, "Just leave the rest to me. Don't waste energy on the fag, not worth the cops busting your ass." Protection of the law and all that. Had to respect it, no matter who the beneficiary happened to be. Alex didn't look so happy with that solution, he still had plenty of fist to go around. Some of the energy was expended, he furiously scrubbed at his lips. Probably trying to get the taint off. The taste off. Fucking gross.

"Yeah, alright... You're right, shit ain't worth my time. I'm out, catch me in a bit when I've drunk the pain away. Yo, lemmie grab a bottle." Ben didn't object as Alex took a fresh whiskey, toted it out of the room as he escaped as fast as he could. Ben coldly walked, half to Maxim's side. An entire table kept between them, give not take.

"Up." Ben was curt, wasted little precious breath. "Party's over."
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Voices. God, why did there have to be so many? Voices, voices everywhere, senseless talking, snickering, hushed whispers, people laughing at him, talking about him - someone had to make it stop!

Maxim was still lying face down on the floor, hiding his face in shame and fear. More talking, louder now. Sounded like Ben and...Alex. The guy that had been his supposed best friend only minutes ago. And what was Maxim to him now? Trash, sick, worthless scum. And he deserved it. Every bit of it. It was all his fault. He had fucked it all up.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm fucking sorry..." The German was muttering to himself, his words of course muffled by the ground and the giant lump growing in his throat. "I'm so sorry, so sorry, so, so, so gottverdammtnochmal sorry..." He had stopped even thinking about what he was saying, he was just babbling to himself now, his mind hazed and crushed by guilt and loss and fear.

Steps. Someone was approaching him. Maybe they would give him his due punishment now? Maxim was hoping they would. He had been stupid, beyond stupid, acted like a selfish prick. He had to be chastised, beaten, taught his lesson. Only just.
But again, his hopes were crushed and all he heard was the cold, almost disgusted sounding voice of his host. Up. Party's over. That was all. No more insults, no condemning, not even a prompt for him to apologize. Like he wasn't even worth wasting the attention on.
The German didn't even try to protest. Nothing he could say, nothing he could do to make things right. Only do as he was told and try not to further anger his host. Not screw things up for once.

Slowly, he tried to lift himself off the ground with both his hands and only managed to do so after several clumsy attempts. Everything was still blurry. He couldn't even see Ben's face, but then again, he didn't even want to, really. Alex was nowhere to be seen either. Probably went off to someplace where he could forget about Maxim. Couldn't blame him.

Get up on one knee. Shift the balance, grab the edge of the table. Rest for a second. Now try to get standing. Don't slip. Don't look at anybody.

He repeated those instructions in his head, over and over, even long after he had managed to get into a standing position and was now facing his host. He felt the need to say something, anything. It wouldn't do him any good. Or anyone else. But he just had to say something. "I...god, just...fuck, man, please..." Pathetic. No other way to say it.

Maxim felt his face growing hotter, starting to itch. His eyes were hurting, god, he wasn't about to cry, was he? He had to leave, right now. Get away from all of them, from Ben. From Alex.

Bitte, Gott...Give him back to me.

He turned around, now blankly staring at nothing. Was that a door back at the wall? Yes, a door. But was it even the exit, or just some other generic, useless door? Fuck, like it even mattered. He would find out sooner or later. He started staggering forward, towards his supposed way out of the nightmare.

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Ben thought he heard Maxim murmur something as he came to. Wasn't distinct, wasn't really worth pursuing at this point. Ben wasn't giving this kid anymore than human decency demanded, chances of everything else had evaporated like the whiskey down his gullet.

If it had been anyone else Ben would have been the first to offer a helping hand up. Out of the question now, the most Ben allowed was a nagging pang of concern that the itch of fear quickly scratched out of existence. A slightly realer fear that the dude would puke or something, the way he was bouncing shoddily off furniture in his attempts to stand up. Ben kept their gazes even. As much as Maxim's reluctant eyes would allow. As much as his wasted words would permit. Just embarrassing. Why even say anything at all? Only resolution left was a closed door.

"That's my backyard." Ben started walking the right way, out into the living room where the front door waited. Kept both eyes on Maxim all the while.
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Jesus, why did the room have to spin like that? Made walking so much harder, made it feel like he wasn't even making progress. Only the thought of escape urged him to go forward. Escape the house, those people, his own obnoxious stupidity. For a second, the image of a rat in a cage was projected before his eyes. Appropriate. He would have chuckled if not for the fact that he felt like bawling his eyes out. That and him desperately trying to fight back the rising feeling of nausea.

He wasn't going the right way, was he? Was he? Hell, at this point, he wouldn't have objected to being thrown out of the house via trapdoor. Or straight down the trash chute. Problem solved.

Someone was saying something again. Alex? No, Ben again. Something that sounded like 'backyard.' What was that supposed to mean? Did he want to pick a fight with him back there? No, didn't seem like it. He was walking away from Maxim now. Kinda looked like he wanted him to follow him.

Oh. Of course. That was the right way. The way out, door to the outside. What was it called again? Shit, had he really managed to forget something as trivial as that? And why the fuck was he even thinking about it in the first place?
Maxim palmed his forehead and let out a pained sigh. Damnit, bad idea. Only made him feel like vomiting again. Carefully, almost as if he was scared he was going to slip and fall - which he was - he turned himself around, in the direction Ben was indicating. There was another door, other side of the room. Yeah, that was it, the - the -

Exit. That's the word.

First accomplishment of the evening. Fantastic.

Maxim started walking again, staggering and reeling around. Couldn't walk straight, couldn't think straight. Nothing straight about him in that moment. Nothing made sense. Not even himself, his own goddamn presence. Fish out of water. Something that should never happen. That was exactly how he felt.

He reached the door. Finally. Another glance towards Ben. Still blurry, still looking all disgusted. If he was like this, he didn't even want to try to imagine how Alex felt. Fucking Alex. Was it really Maxim's fault that he was that handsome? That fucking irresistible?

Hör auf. Stop it, stop it, stop it. Just get out.

Maxim's fingers gingerly touched the door. He didn't do anything for a brief moment, just leaned on it. Feeling so incredibly tired. Then he saw his host's eyes again and with a panicked shove, pushed the door open. Freedom. Didn't take him another second to ponder about anything irrelevant - he practically hopped out of his cage, into the welcoming darkness of the night.
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Out in the living room away from most of the action that had somehow drifted into the garage and laundry room area (no accounting for taste) the people were getting louder somehow. Sounded like things were kicking up a notch, kicking off Sunday shoes and all that. Great. Ben heard more noise he was hearing more shit to be cleaning in the AM scramble before Mom got home. One that Lana would be assisting with, lest she invite the consequences of MAD. Say she counted on Ben doing it all himself solely on the count of not wanting to be brought down with her. Well Ben would happily sacrifice himself on the altar of principle. That was Lana's MO, Ben figured he could borrow it for a change. So he and Lana would be waking up to empty bottles and cups crushed under the sofa leg and puke in the sink tomorrow. Misery loved company.

Second wave of drinkers was probably starting soon. Ben would have to get back to his station- again somehow roped into being the asshole birthday boy who had to work on his own birthday- and start moving bottles. One had already been cleared, and it promised to be a long night yet.

Hold on.

Ben opened the door, waited for it to be used as intended, and then shut it without further ceremony.

Final few thoughts spared. For real.

So it was just Ben now, staring at the nothing in particular that was the watery paint job called his living room wall. Maybe he'd have to do that again some time. Long ago a familiar voice had warmly promised him that someday the living room would shine fresh and anew. When it was quiet enough and he was so inclined to remember, he could hear that innocuous voice so clearly...

((Ben Fields continued in Early Morning, Early Days))
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Jesus, it was frickin' cold outisde. Normally, a bit of fresh air would have been nice, especially under these circumstances, but now, the first icy breeze felt more like a punch to the face.
Creaking sounds, probably the door closing behind him. He was all by himself now.

Cold shivers ran down his spine, not only caused by the iciness all around him. For a second, he felt almost relieved, but then the images filled his mind anew, Alex spewing insults at him, the disgusted look on his face, the hate in his eyes.

Hate. He hates me. He fucking hates me now.

Again, the urge to simply let himself loose, to just cry overcame him. He could have said no to Alex' proposal, could have stayed at home, read one of his goddamned meaningless fucking books! He could have, he could have and he didn't, because he wanted to prove something to himself. Prove he wasn't just some basement dweller, some weak-kneed pushover. And now, where was he? He still was all that. Even worse, in their eyes, he was now a depraved sicko without self control.

But even so, he was still okay with that. He would have been okay with that. If only Alex had still been his friend. Regarded him as more than just a 'fag.' Of course, he just had to hate gays, he of all people! And of course he just had to find out this way, in front of fucking society!

Was he supposed to be angry at himself now? Or just plain sad, filled with anguished shame, riddled by guilt, pained by fear of loss? What did it matter. He was alone now, standing out there in the open in the middle of the night and nobody beside him would care about how he felt. Then again, maybe not even he did.

Damn it all to hell. He had been standing there in front of Ben's house for what, a minute now? Accomplishing nothing, just more useless pondering. Why was he even trying to understand his own feelings? Ben had said it himself. Party was over for him. Plain and simple. All that was left for him was to go home and sleep. And not wake up, for all he cared.

The first step forward he took was insecure, his legs felt like pudding. Shivers didn't make it easier, nor did the fact that he barely had a clue of which direction to go. Way too dark, only a few lampposts here and there. Or was that the moon? No way, it was hanging far too low. Lampposts, nothing but good old lampposts. They would help him navigate. Surely they would.

Going forward again. Felt like he was walking in slow-motion, the light just didn't seem to get closer, no matter how many steps he took. Maybe it really was the moon after all?
Maxim raised his head and looked towards the pitch black sky. No. Still no moon. Not even any stars.

I am reaching but I fall.

And the stars are black and cold.


The lyric just came to his mind. No idea where it was from. Probably one of those stupid musicals he liked so goddamn much. He didn't want to like anything at the moment.

As I stare into the void

of a world that cannot hold.


Huh. Kinda appropriate. How'd it continue again? Fuck, he couldn't remember, something about escaping or some shit like that.

Of a world that cannot hold...cannot hold...I'll escape now from....

There it was. Mid-thought, mid-step, he had to just give up the fight against the nausea. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if something was trying to burst out of it.

Oh Scheiße, fucking Jesus, please don't -

Maxim's body jerked and convulsed and then the bile came up as he hunched over. God, it was the worst fucking feeling in the world. And it just wouldn't stop. Please, someone just had to help him. Kill him for all he cared. As long as it would finally be over.

He hurled for another good minute before his stomach finally took pity on him, leaving him a quivering and groaning mess. So this was it. This was what he got for trying to socialize. Never again.

Never fucking again.

((Maxim Kehlenbrink continued in Land of Milk and Honey, Don't Fail Me Now))


Edited by Rorick Skyve, Mar 30 2016, 01:53 AM.
Peoples and Sheeples for V6
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