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“It’s not worth the hassle,” Ben said, straining to make his voice heard above the music and the excitable crowd that had just entered the bar.
This was the fourth night in a row he’d spent out. It had become a natural rhythm now. He’d get the bus into town at about nine, try some of his usual haunts, find some action and get so hammered that he didn’t remember getting the night bus back. The next thing he knew, it was 8.30 and the beeping of the alarm on his phone was stabbing a tune into his head.
As much as he wanted to press the snooze button, he dragged himself out of bed, the stench of a merge of aftershaves and stale whisky bleeding from his pores. He would jump into the shower, not bothering to let it warm, enjoying the stinging shards of ice water baptising his skin. When he staggered out, he dragged the towel through his hair and body, barely absorbing the moisture that was there. He’d pull some product through his hair, just enough to make it look presentable. He always avoided looking in the mirror, knowing the sight that would appear. His nocturnal lifestyle was taking its toll. He wasn’t burning the candle at both ends, more throwing it onto a bonfire.
Every day though, he still went into work. He remained mostly undisturbed there, only having to leave the cabin to talk to a few punters when he thought he could edge a sale. Jay accused him the other day of hiding out in there. Perhaps he was right; he knew there was no chance of running into anyone he didn’t want to see, or anyone he shouldn’t.
He always knocked off around five o’clock, in time to go home and have tea with Lexie. He would say good night to her and then start the ritual of getting ready again, swigging down a few beers to get him in the mood. As he reached downstairs, the faces of his family always held the same looks. Ian would glance up from some accounts, a resigned sign of disapproval on his face, muttering something about ‘responsibilities.’ Lola would give a glare of jealousy and he didn’t really deny her that. He knew he hadn’t been pulling his weight with Lexie recently.
His mum would always give him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and give him a kiss, telling him to have a nice time. There was an unspoken warning to be careful and he knew that often she wouldn’t sleep until she heard the back door shut in the early hours. She didn’t understand. She just wanted him to find a nice boy to cuddle on the sofa. He wanted to retort back that nice boys can break hearts too.
He couldn’t recall being in this club before, but he supposed he might have. Sometimes the lights, music and people all blurred into one, none of them standing out to his eyes. He’d already had quite a few and the permanent buzz was softening everything in his mind. At the last bar, he’d met a group of people and tagged along with them to this location. There were so many bodies in this club and his brain was so addled that he couldn’t even recognise who they were any longer.
In a booth by the corner, he’d seen a guy there by himself. He was alright looking, he supposed. Nice tattoos and red hair. Not that it really mattered. He just closed his eyes and they could be anyone he wanted them to be. Ben felt like he had to hook up every night. Perhaps it was just to make a point, even though there was no one relevant around to make it to. Before this past week, he’d gone a month without getting with anyone and that grated on him. What exactly had he been waiting for? The back of his mind knew the answer, but he kept that locked up, muffled into silence as if it would make it untrue.
Tentatively, he approached the guy with his best smile. He was dressed a little differently than he had been the past nights, the plum shirt and pale cardigan perhaps taking a little off the dark edge off his look. The guy was welcoming and Ben genuinely thought he was set for the evening, when he heard the words which made him roll his eyes. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“So,” Ben replied with a shrug. He leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper. “I won’t tell him if you won’t.”
“Well, he’s about twenty feet away serving at the bar, so I don’t really fancy our chances,” the man replied with a chuckle. “I’m Kaden.”
“Ben,” he said shaking the other man’s hand, then sinking back into the booth with a sigh. “Not up for a threesome then?” he offered jokingly.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you seem like you’re forcing yourself to hook up with someone, rather than wanting to,” Kaden said to him honestly. “Gone through a bit of a dry spell?”
Ben shook his head. “Nah. Been lucky all week,” he replied. He knew he should just get up and leave now that he knew he didn’t stand a chance, but it was quite nice to stop and talk to someone without any ulterior motive.
Kaden looked at him in silence for a moment and then nodded his head knowingly. “Ah. Okay, I think I understand. What’s his name?”
“Who?” Ben asked, confused.
“Whoever you’re trying to unstick from your brain. I’m not wrong, am I? There’s some boy out there that’s plaguing your thoughts. We’ve all been there,” Kaden replied, staring over at his boyfriend with a smile.
“He don’t matter,” Ben said, cursing himself a little for letting his guard drop and admitting the truth.
“So what was it? Unrequited love? Long relationship gone bad?” Kaden asked curiously.
“Try closeted case with a fiancé. Even more Daddy issues than I have and a psycho brother who I half expect to be standing over me with a chainsaw when I wake up in the morning. All round good guy, who everyone loves. A nice boy who looks like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but…passionate and intense. I’m not sure how many people see that though,” Ben said with a smile.
“Sound like maybe you’re putting your efforts in the wrong place trying to pick up random strangers,” Kaden replied. “It’s not going to replace what you feel for this guy, as much as you want it to. Perhaps it might be worth giving him another try. What have you got to lose?”
“It’s not worth the hassle,” Ben said, straining to make his voice heard above the music and the excitable crowd that had just entered the bar.
“I think you’re lying to yourself, Ben,” Kaden replied. “You don’t look happy here. You’re not out to enjoy yourself, you’re out to forget. You can do that for an hour, maybe two or three. Pretend that guy doesn’t exist and what you’re feeling isn’t real. The lie soon fades though. The truth will always rain through.”
The club was jam packed now. It looked like a crowd were celebrating something. He tried to think if there was some sporting event on, but he wasn’t quite sure.
“I don’t think there’s much hope. We just go round in circles,” Ben replied, his honesty drifting out. “He hurt me and I don’t think I can get over that. I don’t think I want to.”
“Your pride’s been hurt,” Kaden said, knowingly. “Not your heart. You need to stay true, Ben. That’ll lead your good boy in the right direction.”
“What if I don’t want him? I wasn’t looking for anyone. I wasn’t looking for this,” Ben said, finally speaking the words out loud.
“The truth is the truth. You can’t change your feelings. You can’t drink them away, or shag them away. They’ll still be the first thought that’ll hit you in the morning.” Kaden replied, giving Ben a gentle rub on his arm. He pulled a business card and a marker pen out of his pocket and scribbled something down. “In case you ever want to talk.”
Kaden left Ben alone at the table with his thoughts. He picked up the card and marker, shoved them in his back pocket and made his way to the door of the club.
The night bus was practically empty and he felt sleepy as the rhythm rocked him. As he started to lean his head on the window, he caught his reflection. He looked weary, and although the alcohol did play a major part, he didn’t like the way he looked. Something in his back pocket made sitting down uncomfortable. He reached in and pulled out the business card and marker, the conversation in the bar already becoming murky. He turned the card over and saw a phone number there. He couldn’t even remember the name of the man now. Underneath he’d written ‘Ben Stay True.’
Ben uncapped the marker pen.
The light burst through the window of the bus and blazed against Ben’s eyes. It felt like lasers were trying to cut through to his skull.
“Right, off you go sunshine. I think you’ve slept long enough. We’re a transport, not a flamin’ Premier Inn!”
Ben looked up to see the bus driver standing angrily over him. He must have dozed off before he reached his stop and ended up at the depot. He didn’t even remember getting on the bus. Thinking back, the last thing he remembered was tagging along with a group of people to another club. It was busy in there, a sporting event or something was going on. Or was it someone famous? He must have got caught up in the crowd and forgotten.
Ben stumbled off the bus as the driver picked up a piece of paper from his seating, tutting as he went. He felt the fresh air hit his lungs with a jolt, wishing he had some water to quench his rough throat. He decided to make his way from the depot to get a bus back to Walford.
Approaching the bus stop, he stopped to look at his reflection in the side mirror of a car. His mum would be up by the time he got back and he didn’t want to look as rough as he felt. He didn’t think he hooked up last night, but there was always tomorrow.
As he looked in the mirror, he screwed his eyes up. His contacts had become dry from being in so long, making his vision slightly blurred. He could swear there was something written on his forehead, but he couldn’t quite make it out. He could only see the first letter of each word clearly. ‘BST’, what did that mean?
Once he got on the bus back to Walford he had time to think. It was like someone signed his forehead. Then he remembered. There was that huge crowd in the club last night, it must have been something to do with that. He was sure there was some big sporting event on. There was a doubt hanging over his brain, something hidden deep telling him he wasn’t right, but he was used to the voices of his better angels by now. He was more than capable of locking them up and gagging their songs.
The market was in full swing as he stepped off the bus and onto the square, immediately seeing a familiar face who he thought could help. “Oi, Keeg,” he shouted, jogging towards the young man. “You know about sport don’t ya?”