17November in New York City, that disgusting chill that made you feel utterly useless. Made you feel sluggish, and chilled even when you were back home in your warm little apartment. Central Park held the colors of autumn, the gold, yellow, red, and orange of the leaves that fell throughout it. Crunching as you walked over them and then they stuck to the bottom of your boots as the light rain dampened them. No matter how often you stopped to warm yourself in a street side store or cafe, you always had to go back out into the cold, where it hurt to walk and it hurt to breathe.
I stopped typing and leaned back in my chair. I am in such a rut. Not only had I been unable to get my article to my editor on time, I hadn't even finished the first three paragraphs of it. And it was cold. Absolutely freezing. I got up from my desk and walked over to the thermostat, eyeing it suspiciously, damn thing never wanted to work. I clicked it up to eighty and returned to my rickety chair, swiveling in a circle. Writer's block. I typed in a couple of letters, not really making any sense, then hit backspace.
Writer's block. Wasn't there a remedy? Somebody should make one.
I got up again, saving what I had and shut down the computer, heading to my small little kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. I hate coffee, but it always seems to put me in one of those Buddhist monk type moods. Well, hey, at least it wasn't drugs.
I watched, mesmerized as the coffee dripped slowly into the pot. God, I hate this city. Down below me I could here the sirens, the people, the world. It was annoying, how so many people could stand to be together on one single crowded street. I shuddered at the thought of having to travel to the office tomorrow, in that damned scary subway, and then up into so many people. I heard the buzz of my coffeepot and poured it into a mug, blowing on it to cool it down. I took a sip, feeling the burn on my lips and tongue. God, I hate coffee.
*****
I woke up the next morning, once again having to pull three other covers over me the night before. I kicked them off, placing my feet on the hardwood floor. Freezing as well. I hate mornings, I hate evenings. Give me a nice warm and sunny afternoon wit perfect weather, and I'd probably still find something to bitch about.
I took my shower, the water almost scalding and then dressed, pulling on a heavy sweater that somebody had once given me for my birthday. At a time in my life where I laughed at the thought of ever having to move away from Miami. Stupid.
I packed the disk with my unfinished article on it into the small black backpack I always carried, it almost always had everything I needed in it. My cell phone, my pencils, my notepad, everything that was utterly essential to me. And now, off to another day in Hell, just not as hot.
The subway was crowded, everybody holding their little metallic thermoses of coffee and looking through the files of their contracts, deeds, bills. Ugh, the sameness everywhere I looked. The man next to me bumped my elbow and I shot a glare at him when he didn't even bother to apologize. Moron. They have no sense of respect. These same businessmen are the exact same ones that you can see in some strip club, blowing all their money on big- breasted women who danced next to a pole never touching the customer. Idiots.
I got off on Canal Street. A right on Franklin and into a cheap looking building across the street. Slowly I climbed the stairs in the building entering the fogged glass door at the top.
"You are late."
"I know." I dropped my stuff on my desk, pushing a stack of files over.
My boss, Mr. Will Jefferson, glared.
"Those are top priority Mr. Prassi."
"I understand that, sir."
"And your article?'
"Still incomplete."
He slammed a fist onto my desk, startling me as well as two of my other co- workers. "Damn it, do you realize that it is a privilege to be able to work here?"
"Yes."
"Then start acting like you care!"
Yeah, yeah, whatever.
He left in a huff, bumping into Jeff, another one of the writer's.
"You piss him off again?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
He smiled down at me as I sat in my chair and turned on my computer. "Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to get drinks later tonight or something. I've been getting the lonely blues lately."
"Sometimes it's good to be alone."
"Not for me, I need people."
"Well, I don't."
"So, I'll take that as a "no"?"
"Bingo."
He shrugged, "Your loss." And he left.
What an airhead. Just one of those blonde, Banana Republic kind of guys. You know, the ones who always wear what looks like the same thing everyday and is always smiling like nothing's wrong? One of those.
The work day is tough, I still can't get my article done and Will has been on me all day about the how the quality of my work has been dropping drastically in the past few weeks. At eight-thirty I jammed all my stuff back into my backpack and shouldered it, giving a small wave to Dana, our press woman.
Out on the street the shops were closing, of course the one right below us was just beginning to get some business, considering the fact that it was a porno bookstore. What some people do for entertainment. The subway isn't as bad on the way back, but it's still crowded enough to where a few people have to stand, unfortunately, I'm one of those. I hold on to one of the poles, closing my eyes at random, God, I'm just so tired and my back is bordering unusable.
I get off a couple of streets away from mine, walking in the cold air sometimes wakes me up, although I hate it horribly. There are whores on the street, the ones who look nice and clean until they throw you some line from the dark little shadow spots that has to do with how big their cock is or how deep they can take in a dildo. People have no respect for others and no respect for themselves obviously.
One of the men steps out in front of me, leering like a child pornographer.
"Excuse me."
"What? You don't like me?" He steps a bit closer and a back away for a split second before realizing just how weak I must look. I move forward, smiling inside at the way he backed up.
"I don't do men."
He pouted. "I have a nice girl friend."
"I don't do women either."
Now he looked disgusted, "What are you? A priest?"
I moved past him, "Something like that."
My apartment was freezing again, dropping the backpack on the bar I checked the thermostat again, fifty-eight degrees. I banged my fist against it, hearing it click and then began a slow hum as the numbers began to rise slowly. Yeah.
As I was changing out of the slacks I had been wearing and into my favorite pair of black jeans, the phone rang.
"Hello."
"Yo, Dominic, get your ass ready. Comin' to get ya."
Jeff. Drunk Jeff. "Are you drunk?"
"Maybe."
Some high-pitched giggling in the background.
"Jeff, go home."
"No! You've been all mopey and actin' like an..an ass wipe, come party, I'll get you."
"Go home Jeff."
"Don't tell me what to do dammit!" He mumbled something incoherent. "Anyway, get ready. Now."
"Jeff..."
Dial tone.
So, I would just wait for Jeff to get here, then force him to crash out here out my place to at least keep him off of the streets. About thirty or forty minutes later the doorbell rang, and Jeff was there, along with another man who was trying his best to keep Jeff from flopping to the floor.
"You ready?" He looked me up and down. "You don't look ready."
"You're staying here Jeff."
"Why?" He looked up at his friend, "Why?"
"You're drunk and stupid. Crash out here for awhile, until you're a little bit more sober."
"He's right Jeff."
Jeff pulled away from his companion, "You...you bastard. I wanna have fun. No one lets me have fun. And Prassi here, n, needs to get laid. Bad."
I could feel my face turn red as Jeff's friend raised an eyebrow. Jeff shrank to the floor, rolling his head back. "Can I stay in your bed Nic?"
No one ever called me that.
"I...yeah, whatever, just get in now."
"Right. NICK!"
Jeff's friend shook his head, "I'm right here Jeff."
"Oh. Well, get me inside. I wanna sleep with Nic. In his bed. Not him."
Nick curled an arm around Jeff and helped him stand, half carrying him and half dragging him into my apartment.
"Um...bedroom's this way." I led them into my room, pushing back the covers and fixing the pillows as Jeff fell onto the bed, crawling pathetically under the sheets.
"Nice Prassi."
"Glad you like it, now please, shut up and go to sleep."
He reached out and clutched at my arm as I turned to leave, "You come back, ya here? You're gonna lie down, right next to me, and then we can get to the sexin'."
Again with that damn blush.
"Yeah. yeah, sure. Go to sleep Jeff."
"Right."
He rolled over and closed his eyes as I was leaving the room, shutting it almost all the way, but letting a small slit of light leak through.
Nick was poking around in my fridge.
"Looking for something in particular?"
"Munchies."
I shook my head, "Well, I'm sure you can get food from McDonald's or something."
"I don't have any money."
I went to my backpack and dug through the wallet that was in there, pulling out a five and handing it to him.
"Yo, thanks man."
Anything to get you out of my house dumbass. I closed the door behind him and slid the bolt in. Dammit Jeff, all I wanted was to go to sleep in my nice warm bed. I leaned back against the door. Jeff. What the hell am I going to do with you Jeff?
*****
"Dude, where the hell am I?"
I didn't bother to turn as I heard Jeff stumble into the kitchen, slumping up against my back. He groaned. "My head."
"Consequences."
"Oh fuck off." He moved to the side, draping himself over the counter and pressed his head against the tile of it. "Feels nice and cool here."
"Please get your head off of my counter."
"No."
I poured the pancake batter into the pan and watched as it began to brown slowly. "I eat off of that, now please."
He moaned and moved away, staggering to the side before he went around and fell on the couch. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, "God, my fuckin' head."
I purposely slammed one of my cabinets, smiling to myself when he groaned out loud again.
"Don't do that."
"Don't get drunk."
He stood up and staggered up to me, poking a finger into my chest, "You know, I've kinda had it with your bullshit, with your little snotty ways and your antisocialness. I tried last night to take you out and have fun. But no, you wanted me to lay off the alcohol."
I raised an eyebrow.
"And, and...I hate your smug little smiles, and the way that you think everybody else in the world sucks except you." He shoved me, causing me to stumble into the wall.
"And the way you can't ever finish work, do you think you're special? Cause you're not, you're just an arrogant little bastard who thinks he's the absolutely most unjaded individual put on this planet. When in reality you're not. You know what you are?"
"I think you're going to tell me anyway."
"Damn straight I am. You look exactly like those damn druggie whores. With the way you gaze off at nothing and your superior little ways. You're no better then them."
Ouch.
"Well, you know, I'm sorry that you don't like the way I am, but I could care less about you and your opinions."
"You should care about my opinions, because they're the opinions of just about everyone who works with you and sees you on the street."
"Well, I don't." I moved around him and returned to my pancakes that had begun to blacken slightly on the edges, I flipped them and heard the little sizzle before deciding to speak again.
"Maybe you should leave."
He stared at me increduosly, "No."
I scooped up the pancakes on my spatula and put them on a plate, "It's my place, and you're just overstayed your welcome."
He leaned against the counter, "I'm not leaving."
Arrogant little man.
"I can report you to the security downstairs."
"I'm not leaving until you realize just the way you've been acting and what you've been missing."
"Missing what?"
"Exactly, all the stuff that would make you a better person."
"Like what, shopping? Spending money? Eating out?"
"Something like that."
"Unfortunately I don't do that kind of thing."
"Well, you are."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
I slammed the plate down on the counter and glared at him, "I am very happy with my lifestyle and I don't need some Banana Republic clone coming here and messing up the way I have and like things."
"Banana...Republic clone?"
"Yes! Because that's exactly what you are!"
He cracked a small smile, "Banana Republic clone?"
I nodded my head vigorously.
He burst into laughter, clutching at his sides as I glared, my hands fisted on my waist.
"It's not funny."
"Oh, but it is." He wiped at his eyes. "Your expression is absolutely priceless Prassi. You look like an angry domestic wife."
I do not! "I do not."
He imitated my stance, his face threatening to turn into a smile.
"I...I don't look like that! Now if you would please leave. I have food to eat."
He pushed the plate out of the way and cupped a hand on my elbow, "No, we're going to go eat breakfast like normal people."
"I don't want to!"
He pushed me to the door, grabbing the house key from the counter and pocketing it.
"What are you doing with my key?"
"Keeping it, you can't come home with out it. Now put on some shoes."
"I'm not going!"
"Yes, you are."
"You had a headache!"
"It's gone."
"Liar!"
He pulled out my shoes from the small hall closet, picking the oldest sneakers that I had. He dropped them to the floor beside me and waited for me to put them on.
"I'm not going to."
"Yes, you are."
"No."
He came closer, pushing my shoulder down. "Down."
"No."
"Yes."
Time for another childish retort. "Make me."
"I will."
Damn.
He stooped and pulled both of my legs toward him, unbalancing me and forcing me to put my hands back as I fell. He looked down at me, "Put on your damn shoes and let's go."
"Why?"
"Because you're a tight ass and you need some relaxation."
I tugged on the shoes, lacing them up and then pulling my nice and warm leather jacket out of the closet and pulled it over my sweater.
He raised an eyebrow, "Cold?"
I glared.
"Yeah, yeah...come on, I'm hungry."
He pushed me out the door and then turned to lock it.
"You know that there are perfectly good pancakes in there."
"You burned them."
"I did not!"
Again he pocketed the key and looped his arm through mine, leading us both down the stairs and out onto the street.
"I want to go home."
"Shut up."
I huffed to myself, pulling my arm away from his grasp.
It was cold. I was miserable, and this guy had my damn house key.
"Now, what would you like to eat? Hash browns on the run or some weird Hostess snack?"
"That's breakfast?"
"For some."
"I don't want anything."
"Suit yourself." He pulled me into one of those corner convenience stores, searching through the small aisles for food.
I picked up a random bag and read the label, "Pork skins? Talk about unhealthy." I returned it to its shelf and followed Jeff down the aisle. "Can we hurry?"
He looked up from where he was making the decision of either buying donut holes or some creme cakes. "You have a particular place to go?"
"Home?"
"Do I detect a hint of hope in your voice?" He picked up the creme cakes and headed to the counter, grabbing a glass bottle of orange juice before he reached there.
The man at the counter smiled, "That all?"
"Yeah."
"A dollar sixty-nine."
Jeff put a five on the counter and handed me the little cakes and the bottle as he waited for his change.
"Thank you."
Back on the street he took the juice from my hands and twisted open the top, taking a large drink. "Mmm...good."
He capped it and slipped it into is coat pocket as he opened up the creme cakes and stuffed one into his mouth.
"You have no manners whatsoever."
"I knowmph." He chewed and swallowed, pulling out the juice again and taking another large drink.
"Want some?"
I made a face.
"Guess not."
He finished the other little cake and tossed the wrapper into the trash, brushing his hands off.
"So, where to next?"
I shrugged, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
"Oh! Let's go get you some gloves since you're so intolerant to the cold."
"I don't need gloves."
He pinched my cheek, "No need to get all macho, it's all right to be cold."
I slapped his hand back, "Don't touch me!"
He smiled.
"I don't need gloves."
"I heard you the first time..."
"But?"
"...but you know you need them."
"Whatever."
"There you go, sounded more Banana Republic."
"I..." I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest.
"Let's go get some gloves, eh?"
"Fine, fine."
We ended up a couple streets down, digging through a small table full of gloves.
"Hey, what about these?" He held up a pair of gloves with each of the fingers done in a bright neon color.
"Yuck."
He admired them, "I think they're kinda cute."
"Kinda loud, kinda ugly, kinda-"
"Ok, I get it." He tossed them back, and resumed searching.
"I like these."
"Let me see."
I handed him the soft pair of black gloves. He ran his fingers over them and frowned. "They're black."
"So?"
"You don't need to wear anymore black."
"But...those are nice! And they'll match anything I'm wearing."
He gave them back, shaking his head. "Whatever you want, they're you're gloves."
"Exactly. And I like these."
I paid for them at the counter, politely declining the offer to put them in a bag as I slipped them on, smiling to myself at the warmth my hands were getting.
"Where to now?"
He raised an eyebrow as we left the store and entered the semi-crowded street again. "Eager now?"
"It's nice to be out sometimes, though it's still far too cold."
"Bitch, bitch, bitch."
"Hey!"
"Well you do."
I slapped his arm and shoved him to the side, "God, you suck."
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around my neck.
"Let's see, we can go see a movie, spend your money, oh! Chinatown."
"Don't we see that place enough as is?"
"Yeah, but we're not going to work today."
"I don't think I want to go there."
"Well, you have no choice now."
He found the subway headed to Canal street, both of us boarding the crowded train. I reached for the pole, shoving a few people to the side accidentally, but I apologized.
Jeff clung to the back of my coat until I was standing right next to the pole, then he just reached above me and held onto it himself.
"I hate you tall people."
I could tell he was looking down at the top of my head but it was too crowded to look up at him.
"I like short people."
"Good, or this day would be a lot worse than it already is."
"It's not that bad."
The man next to me stepped back into me and I bumped back against Jeff as the train began to move.
"Ooh, getting fresh?"
"Oh shut up."
"You're like one of those pole dancers."
"My favorite people."
"Sarcasm I see."
"I hate them, no respect for themselves."
"Hey, I respect myself."
The man who had knocked into me turned around, a blank look on his face.
"I...you're..."
"Sure am."
I could feel the embarrassment turn my face red and I tried to say something.
"He's sorry, he's barely getting out and socializing. And his people personality sucks."
I frowned and jabbed my elbow into Jeff's stomach.
The man shrugged, "Apology accepted." He looked down at me and put a finger on my nose, "But the first rule is that you should be careful about what you talk about out loud."
I nodded.
The train slowed to a stop and the man cocked his head to the side to listen to the robotic woman's voice announce the street name, "My stop."
"..uh...bye then."
He smiled and inched his way to the door, waving a hand behind his head at us. The doors slid shut and the train started up again.
"You should be careful the next time."
I rested my forehead against the pole, "That was so stupid."
He touched the back of my neck and chuckled softly, "Sure was."
"Thanks."
"Canal Street."
He tugged on my jacket, leading me backwards to the door, I watched as the doors slid shut and then faced myself the correct way, adjusting my jacket.
"You're done with your primping?"
"I do not primp!"
He imitated me, adding more by pretending to pull out a mirror and fix his hair.
"Haha."
"Anyway."
Again he cupped my elbow, dragging me up the stairs and onto the streets, the chill making my shudder as a damp breeze swept across me cheeks.
"God, it's freakin' cold."
"Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain."
"I don't think He would mind if He was down here in this stupid weather."
"True, true."
"So, what are you going to buy me?" I started walking, hearing him stutter, before he ran up next to me.
"What am I going to buy you?"
"Exactly. You dragged me here, you pay."
"That...is not fair."
"You make money Jeffy, I'm sure you can afford something nice for me."
"What about a makeover?"
I glared.
"Ok, Ok."
"Good, now that we're on a good base, there were some nice China shops out here."
"You don't want China."
"Maybe I do."
We checked out a few of the shops, finally landing in one that I liked. Gently I prodded the little statue of Buddha, smiling when the little fountain from his pedestal started and trickled down gold painted steps and into a little moat type thing around him.
"That's cute."
I frowned up at Jeff, "It's not cute, it's spiritual."
"Whatever."
An old Chinese man waddled up, looking up at me and smiled. "You understand what others do not."
I looked back at the statue. "Yeah."
The man nodded to the statue, "You like?"
"Yeah."
"Whoa."
I turned back to Jeff, "What?"
"The way you said that."
"Said what?"
"Yeah."
"What about it?"
"It was like someone offered you free sex."
"I...that's disgusting." I turned back to the old man, "How much?"
"For someone like you fifty-four dollars."
I turned back to Jeff, "Start digging you money out."
"I...you really want that?"
"Yep."
He looked at the Chinese man, "You take checks?"
"Indeed."
"Ok then."
The man turned the little Buddha off and pulled it from the shelf, carrying it carefully to the counter where he slipped it into a beautiful velvet box. Jeff wrote out the check on the counter, with me leaning over his arm. He slid it across to the old man who accepted it and wrote down Jeff's driver's license number before putting it into the bottom of the register and bagging the box.
"For you." Jeff picked up the bag, putting it onto his arm as we left the store.
"Thank you Jeff."
"You're welcome."
"It really is nice, and I was only kidding about you having to pay for it, I can get the money back to you soon."
"Ah, don't worry about it."
He stopped at the intersection of one of the streets, looking left and right, "So, now we head out to Fifth Avenue."
"Why?"
"You need some new clothes."
I looked down at myself, taking in the sweater, the leather jacket, and the jeans. "What's wrong with what I have on now?"
"Everything for where I want to go now."
"Where?"
"Forget that, we're headed to Fifth."
We headed back to the subway and boarded, the subway this time around not as crowded as it had been earlier. I sat down on one of the orange plastic seats while Jeff read the map.
"We're on the right one idiot."
"Just checking."
He sat down next to me and draped on arm on the back of my seat.
"Well, this is fun."
I shrugged, "I guess. A little different then my normal day."
"Which consists of?"
"Getting up and writing for the most part of the day before doing a little housework."
"Boring."
"To you maybe."
"Yeah, of course."
We got off on Fifth Avenue, the snazzy stores giving me the jitters. Here you had to be dressed to shop on Fifth Avenue, and I mean nicely dressed or the store clerks gave you funny looks.
"I really don't need clothes Jeff."
"Yes, you do."
He dragged me into a store so quickly I didn't even get to see the name, the sign just a giant blur.
"Why are you in such a hurry?"
"Because we've got to get you clothes, head back to your place and change, then get back out here."
"Why do we have to get back out here?"
He didn't answer just begin pulling out various shirts.
"Um, Jeff?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't wear that kind of stuff."
"Well, for once you're going to."
He held up a soft green shirt to my chest, eyeing it.
"It's meshy."
"But not mesh."
He shook his head and tossed it back down on the table, pulling up a dark red one made out of a filmy see-through material.
"Jeff."
"This one's good."
"It's see through!"
"Yeah, well, we'll fix that."
He dragged me down throughout the store, pulling various shirts and pants out and adding them to the stack on his arm.
"Dressing rooms. Dressing rooms."
"Jeff..."
"Here." He shoved me at one of the doors, thrusting the clothes towards me as well. "Try them on and try to get them to match, Ok?"
"Right."
I closed the door, sliding the lock into place and looked at myself in the mirror, pinching my pale cheeks and running my fingers through my short black hair. Blech.
Six outfits later and Jeff was still shaking his head and disapproval. Right now the combination was leather pants and a wispy blue shirt.
"Jeff, we've been here forever."
He stood up and pushed me back into the dressing room, locking the door behind him.
"You are not going to dress me."
"Yes I am."
He bent down and picked up the original red shirt and a black muscle shirt, draping them across one of the hooks in the room.
"Arms up."
"Jeff."
"Nic."
We had a staredown, Jeff winning. I sighed heavily and put my arms up, letting Jeff slide the blue shirt over my head.
"Ok, now, the black." I pulled it on. "Then the red." I buttoned it and looked in the mirror.
"Perfect!"
I raised an eyebrow, I looked like some whore.
"Jeff...I look horrible."
"Was that a pun?"
"Sort of."
He shook his head, "This is fine, now get back in your regular clothes and hurry."
I pushed him out of the door, locking it behind him and quickly shed out of the clothes, handing them to him over the door as he left to pay for them. I pulled on my normal clothes and slipped my feet into the ratty sneakers, tying the laces quickly. I opened the door and spotted him heading to the front of the store.
I caught up with him.
"Why do I need these clothes?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
He paid for the stuff and some other clothes that he had picked out for himself, grabbing the bag on his arm and pulling me once again out onto the street.
"Shoes, you need shoes."
"I have shoes Jeff, at home."
"Black boots?"
"Boots?"
"Ok, I guess not."
"No, I do!" I pulled on his arm before he ran across the street, "I was just wondering why you wanted boots."
"Good, you do, I got myself some shoes, then we dress...you need to eat."
"I am kind of hungry."
He nodded. "You didn't eat breakfast."
"It was unhealthy!"
"Whatever, food. Food, food, food."
"You sound almost pregnant."
"Almost?"
I smiled up at him. "Almost."
We stopped at a deli, where I got myself a chicken salad sandwich.
"That looks absolutely disgusting."
I licked the chicken that was on my lip off and kicked his shin under the table, "Don't insult my food."
"It looks like bird shit."
I could feel myself pale.
"I'm kidding, eat, eat."
Of course after he had said that all I could think of was how it looked, I settled for newborn vomit and bird shit. I put it back down on the plate, pushing it away from me.
"You done?"
"Oddly not hungry anymore."
He laughed softly and picked up the bags again. "We head to your apartment now."
"Right."
We took a cab back to my place, opting to not have to mess with the subway. As he was unlocking the door I could feel the frown crawl onto my face again. When he turned back he raised his eyebrow, "What's wrong?"
"You still have my key."
He looked down at his hand, "Why I sure do." He returned it to his pocket, "And I'm going to keep it until this day is done."
"You're such a moron."
The apartment, as usual, was freezing. I banged my fist on the thermostat and smiled to hear the hum.
"Need to tell the super."
"I know, I'm just to lazy to get down there and tell him."
He handed one of the bags to me, "Get dressed."
I went to my room, closing the door and locking it, pulling the clothes out of the bag and tearing off the tags. Can't believe I'm actually going to put these on. I finished dressing, then headed to the bathroom, frowning again at the way I looked. Like trash, and my hair. I stooped and opened the cabinet under the sink. I pulled out the can of mousse that I had bought and never used. I squirted some onto my hand and eyed the little white puff suspiciously. I ran it the my hair, flaring out the sides of my hair.
"Ew."
I ran my fingers back, slicking it, "Oh my God, Hello, I'm Guido."
I poured water into my cupped hands and poured it over my head as I held myself over the sink. I frowned, why was I even bothering, he wasn't that important. Maybe just to shock him into seeing that I can be a little wild myself. I used a blow dryer to dry my hair, letting it fall over my face. At least I look clean now. I brushed it, oh, that's fine.
I returned to the bedroom, padding softly across the carpet with my bare feet. Now, I know that stupid thing is somewhere. I opened the drawer of the nightstand, digging through the papers with phone numbers I never used, broken pencils and extra change. There! I opened the small black box and pulled out the single gold hoop earring, opening the closing and inserted it into my ear. Although I did have to feel around and poke some to get it in there, I hadn't worn the stupid earring in forever.
"Nic, you ready?"
"Yeah, yeah." I grabbed a pair of socks quickly from the dresser and opened the door, ignoring Jeff as I went to the boots that he had set out for me by the couch. I pulled on the socks and then the boots, tying the laces and standing.
"Well?"
He nodded.
"Good, now where's my damn jacket?"
He held it out to me, waiting for me to put it on. "Done?"
I looked around the apartment, "Yeah."
"Ok then, let's go."
As he was locking the door I finally noticed what he was wearing tight black jeans and a dark blue muscle shirt under his jacket. He looked...good.
He turned back to me, "Let's go, they should be open by now."
What should be open now?
He tugged on my hand, walking next to me down the stairs. He pushed open the big glass door that led to the apartment building and walked to the edge of the street, hailing a taxi. He whispered something to the driver who nodded.
"Come on."
I slid into the backseat, moving over to make room for him.
"Aah."
I eyed him warily, suspicious about where we were going and why I couldn't know.
"Relax Nic." He touched the back of my neck gently, sweeping over my back.
"How can I relax when I have no idea where we're going?"
"Because you can trust me to not leave your body lying in some gutter."
"Thanks, that just completely reassured me."
He smiled and turned his gaze out the window, watching the buildings and lights go by in quick flashes. I watched him, something twisting inside of me.
He looked over at me, "You Ok?"
I nodded, "Y, yeah..."
The cab pulled up to a club, neon lights flashing from the door as people went in.
"I'm not going in there."
"Yes, you are."
He handed the driver money and then opened the door.
"I'm not going."
"I'm not going to argue with you."
"So, let's go home."
He reached a hand out and waited for me.
"No Jeff."
"Yes Nic." He dove in, grabbing the lapels of my jacket and tugged me out, "I'll carry you out of this car Nic, I'll make a scene."
I barely managed to get a foot on the sidewalk as he kept tugging insistently.
"There, that wasn't so bad was it?"
"Horrid."
The cab drove off, barely missing my back. I glared at it as it drove off, fixing my jacket.
"Jeff, I really do not want to go in there."
"But you are."
"Can't we just go somewhere else? To eat? Anything?"
He shook his head and laced his hand in mine, keeping a tight grip.
"Please?"
Again a shake of the head as he pulled us both to the door.
"Jeff..."
The bouncer at the door frowned down at me and it took a lot to not make a face at him as we went through the heavy black door. Ugh. The smell of sweat, of alcohol, of drugs.
"Don't look so disgusted, it's a bad look for you."
"This place..."
Someone slammed into my back, making me stumble against the bar. The man giggled in my ear, slurring an apology as he was dragged off by a rather mad looking woman.
I turned, looking for Jeff, feeling the rise of panic in my throat when I couldn't find him.
A pair of arms closed around my waist, "You looking for me Nic?"
I spun, "Don't do that to me!"
"Scared?"
"Of being drugged and molested, yes." I shoved him off, "But I seem to have gotten the molested part down."
"That was not molesting, I'll show you molesting..."
"You touch me again, you die."
He chuckled and pinched my cheek, "I'm going to go dance."
"Don't leave me!"
"So come with me."
"No!"
"Then stay right here, hold my jacket and I'll be right back." He thrust his jacket into my arms.
"Jeff, don't leave me, please."
"Give the coats to the bartender then and come with me."
"Why can't we just stay here...or leave?"
"No."
He picked up his coat and tugged on mine, "Come on, off."
"No."
"Do you always act this disagreeable?"
"Yes."
He roughed me out of my jacket, despite my little protests that I attempted to make as loud as possible, gaining a few stares from the people nearby. He handed both of them over the counter and shouted that we would be back to the bartender who nodded and took the coats.
"Come on."
His hand encircled around my wrist and we melted into the crowd, pushing aside people and finding a spot on the floor.
"Dance."
"I don't dance Jeff. Do I look like a dancing person to you?"
"Not exactly."
"See?"
"...but that doesn't mean you don't have to try."
"I don't want to try, I want to go home."
"Well, you can't, I have your key and you can't go anywhere without it."
He spun in a small circle, hitting me with one of his spinning arms.
"Jeff!"
"What?!"
"You're making me dizzy."
He grinned and jumped up and down a few times, "Feels good huh?"
"What?"
"The music."
The song that was playing ended, and the club was deafened by heavy breathing and talking. Another song started, the beat faster and the bass overpowering. I saw Jeff's mouth open and say something, but I couldn't hear him. I cupped my ears and he leaned in next to it, "I said dance Nic."
I shook my head holding his gaze as he danced, swaying to the music. This was ridiculous. There were too many people for my liking and I felt like I was having trouble breathing. A hand fluttered against my waist and I turned my head.
A tall blonde man smiled down at me and leaned near my ear, "You look like you're not having any fun."
"I'm not."
"Dance."
I shook my head. The man smiled wider and spun me around, back to facing Jeff who was looking at me quizzically. The man put his hands on my waist, pulling me back against him and in my head I checked off molested.
"Feel the rhythm."
There is no rhythm idiot.
I felt his hips sway against mine. Pervert.
"Dance."
No.
He jabbed my hip with his finger. Ow! Ok, Ok, rhythm, find the rhythm. I picked up the beat slowly, one here, swivel, sway. Dance, dance, dance.
I heard someone laugh near my ear but I ignored it, opting to keep my hold on the music. Something snapped, unkinked, I relaxed and let the music glide through me. Needed this. Really needed this.
Dance, dance, dance. Touch. Grab. Spin. Grind. Jeff's face flashed in my vision. Slide. Sway. The tall blonde man dancing across from me. Flash. Turn.
"Nic!"
I stopped and tilted my head back, looking at Jeff. "What?"
He shook his head, sweat drops resting on his temple, "Need a drink."
"Ok."
"You're staying out here?"
"Yeah."
"Be right back."
I waited until I saw him disappear into the crowd, heading in the direction of the bar before turning back to the tall blonde man who was dancing, completely lost to the world.
Another song. Another dance.
"Nic."
Jeff.
"Yeah?"
"Here."
He held out a bottle of water, handing it to me, "Knew you must have been thirsty."
I took a few drinks of the water, wiping away the excess with the back of my hand.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
He took back the bottle, taking his own drink from it.
"You having fun?"
I nodded my head and danced a little bit closer to him.
"I told you."
A little closer. "You did."
He took another drink and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair.
Dance, dance, dance.
"What are you doing?"
"Dancing."
He looked down at me. "Why so close?"
"Why not? The other people are too creepy to dance near."
"Oh."
I danced a little circle around him, my hands fluttering over his back and waist.
"You're nuts."
"Just a little."
Closer. Dance. Touch. Soft and sweaty.
"Why are you touching me?"
"Cause you're nice to touch."
"You're not gay."
"I know."
"Stop then."
"I like touching you."
Touch, touch, touch.
"Please?"
"Are you gay?"
I heard him sigh. "Just a little."
"Just a little?"
"Just a little."
Danced around him again, taking the water bottle and dripping some onto the back of his neck.
"Do I turn you on?"
"Just a little."
"Just a little gay. Just a little turned on. Are you definite about anything?"
"That water's kind of cold."
I looked at the water bottle in my hand and giggled. Whoo, something was wrong. "Jeff?"
"What?"
"This water, what does it have in it?"
"Water."
"Are you sure?"
He looked worried, "Why?"
"Feel funny."
"Funny sick? Or funny floopy?"
"A little bit of both I think."
His fingers ghosted over my forehead, "Maybe you should rest for a little while."
"...yeah."
He led me to the bar, helping me onto one of the stools. It was kind of hard to breathe and my brain was getting fuzzy.
"Better?"
"Not really."
"Maybe we should leave."
"I like it here."
"There's always tomorrow, or the day after."
"Right, can we go home now?"
He nodded and looped his arm in mine, allowing me to lean my weight against him as he hailed down a cab. It was hard to concentrate in standing, and occasionally I could feel as if the ground was going to come up and smack me in the face.
"Hang in there Nic."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
Into the cab. Look at the lights. Whoosh. Stop cab, let us out. Stairs. My key, need that back. Cold apartment. Colors mixing with each other. Jeff banging on the thermostat. Jeff walking. Jeff looking good. Jeff naked. Whoa! I shook my head and blinked, tracking Jeff's progress as he walked through the kitchen, not naked for your information.
He came back near me, handing me a cup of something. I took a sip, "I hate coffee."
"Oh."
"No, it's Ok."
He nodded and took the cup back when I handed it to him. He washed out the mug and put it on the rack with the other drying dishes.
"Hey, Jeff?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you come here?"
Wobble. Shit. Jeff.
"You Ok."
I reached an arm out and looped it around his neck, bringing his face close to mine.
"It's like an aphrodisiac Jeff."
"What is?"
"This...whatever I drank."
"Water."
"Couldn't be."
He untangled himself from my arm and tried to step back, but I brought him near me again.
"You won't hit me, right?"
"Only if you give me a reason to."
"Good."
Mouth. Soft mouth. Wet tongue. Oh God. I heard myself moan and pull him closer, tripping on the couch and falling back, bringing him with me.
"Nic, you've got to calm down. Must have been some shit in the water."
"You taste good though. Like...like, something."
He nodded and got up from the couch, wiping his mouth on the back of his palm. How rude.
"That's was...rude."
"What?"
"Wiping your mouth off, I don't kiss that bad."
He crinkled his nose, "Nic, you suck at kissing."
Well, that's disappointing.
"Sorry."
"No, don't worry about it."
"Will you teach me?"
"Teach you what?"
"How to kiss?"
He shook his head as I beckoned for him to get closer.
"Please? Might need to know it later."
"You're straight."
"I was."
"So, in between" he checked his watch, "thirty-five minutes you've become gay?"
"Just a little."
"Just a little, right. Nic, you need some rest."
"Teach me to kiss dammit!"
"No."
"Jeff, it's already embarrassing with you telling me I suck, what do you think that'll do to my...my..ego, if someone else tells me that?"
He tapped his foot impatiently on the floor and pointed to the bedroom.
"Can't get up."
He held out a hand and helped me up.
"Ooh, sick."
He helped me get to my room, letting me flop onto the bed.
"Jeff?"
"What?"
"Can you get me a glass of water, please?"
"Yeah, yeah, hold on."
When he came back he sat the glass on the nightstand and I used that time as an opportunity to get him down on the bed with me. Mouth. Mouth. I can not suck that much.
"Dammit!"
He shoved me, hard, almost sending me flying across the bed with pain in my biceps. He stalked out of the room, slamming the door hard. Ouch.
"Jeff?"
No answer.
"Jeff!"
Again silence.
"Jeff, I'm sorry, please."
Nothing. I threw myself back against the pillows, hitting one of them with my fists as I brought the covers over me. Shit.