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dream had been walking so long he had forgotten the time. he didn’t remember what he left the house for. all he knew was that he needed to find a reason for being out here or his bandmates would be confused.
he had been walking in a crowd, not really paying attention to where they were going and just moving until someone caught his attention. dream had been looking down, bright red socks paired with docs is what caught him. "i like your shoes." is what he told them, "thanks, can i follow you?" instead of replying he grabbed their hand and took them to the closest club.
they went up the stairs to avoid the prying eyes. he ordered them both wine, he didn't ask their age, but it was already too late for that. he noticed they didn't have any wine left so he poured them some wine. "what's your name?" they asked the time.
it was 2AM. the club had closed so they walked down the block. they ended up in an alley, their hands ran against dreams waist. their hands all over him. he grabbed their long black hair and pushed his hand against their jeans.
they noticed him making noises and trying to speak so they put their tongue in his mouth to keep the words from coming out. they didn't care who he was or what he had to say.
-
they ended up back at his (temporary) apartment. he thought they would have sex, but as soon as they got there they lay down on the couch and gestured for him to lay next to them. he didn't even know their name, but they felt so genuine.
"i'm sad, wanna get high together?" they ended off with a smile so sweet he couldn't refuse. they texted 'their guy' and waited. in this time dream noticed how sad they were. they lay there with almost nothing on their face, they seemed to be somewhere else.
he noticed when they came back. they had noticed it had been over an hour since they texted their dealer, they needed it. where's the kid with the chemicals? "i thought he said to meet me here but i'm not sure." dream rubbed their shoulders and replied, "i got the money if you've got the time."
he didn't know what time it was but eventually, the kid showed up, as soon as the kid left his ‘lover’ turned to him and said, “don’t worry, it feels good.” he told them he’d give it a try. his mind went dark.
-
he opened his eyes and they were no longer in his apartment. they were outside in the snow, he asked them what they were doing. “looking for my car, you nimrod.” he nodded and told them that they should take the train. he didn’t know why, but he wanted to go with them. he didn’t love his ‘lover’ but he wanted them to be safe.
they both got on the train. it was empty, only a few others there. they sat next to each other, his lover rested their head on his lap. he played with their long black hair and let out whispers. “what about tomorrow?”
“i’ll meet up with the band in the morning.”
-
he woke up in the van. he woke up to loud horrible singing, he woke up to the smell of cigarettes, he woke up to the sound of someone sobbing, he woke up to his phone ringing. the van moved and all he could think about was their touch, he never wanted it to stop. his bandmates looked at him with concern and asked him where he was last night. “just keep singing.”
he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see the black-haired boy ever again, but he’ll always think of their sad warmth. he’ll remember how he felt with them. it wasn’t love, he could never fall in love with someone in one day, but it was the closest he would get.
-
it’s two years later and he doesn’t even remember them. (
liar
.) not like he should, he never got their name nor their number.
his band was in a completely different town. he was with a different boy. they had short brown hair and a british accent. he wasn’t in love with them, he didn’t bother asking their name. he didn’t know their age, but he did know that they were older.
their love didn’t feel like sad warmth, it felt like hot anger. it felt bad, but he wanted a lover he didn’t have to love, so what did he expect?
he didn’t even remember how he got there, he didn’t remember anything other than sitting on the cold floor and feeling sick. they were drunk, dream was so drunk that he felt like scratching his skin off. it felt like too much, all he wanted was to feel loved.
they were so drunk they couldn’t talk, he was so drunk he wanted to run away. they didn’t talk, but they did show their ‘affection’ in other ways. they draped themself over dream making the overwhelming feeling even worse. they played with his hands and hair and touched him everywhere and they kept kissing his neck and they kept making noise and it was too much.
he grabbed their face and made them look at him, “i need some meaning i can memorize.” he needed to remember, he needed to memorize this. this wasn’t his love, but it was a love. these kinds of moments always seemed to slip his mind. he wanted to know their name, but that would make it hurt more. “but you, but you...you write such pretty words.”
they had written about him. in a way so soft he knew he would regret leaving. ‘his hair could be described as bright as the sun, or as soft as freshly gathered wheat. his eyes, god they’re so pretty. eyes as gently as soft moss floating in a cold river. everything about him is soft. i can’t imagine him ever hurting anyone.’
they smiled at him in a sad kind of way that made his heart beat faster, “dumbass, life is no storybook.” he didn’t know why, but that sentence made him feel so empty.
he swallowed and let out a sigh. love is just an excuse to get hurt. he thought leaving them would hurt, but it felt like he already left. (they left him.)
_
he didn’t know how they got there.
“do you like to hurt?”
“i do! i do!”
“then hurt me.”
dream started the sentence by simply saying it. acting unaffected, but he ended up screaming. hurt him, hurt him! they don’t love each other, it doesn’t matter! “you don’t love me. we’re just two lonely people trying to hate ourselves a little less.”
the fight (surprisingly) didn’t end with either of them hitting each other. it ended with dream grinding his teeth so hard they could almost hear it. he walked to the restroom, he was so silent that the boy thought he was gonna sleep in there.
a few minutes later he heard the sounds of gagging and throwing up. they didn’t pay attention to how long he had been in there or what time it was when he got out. he got out and instead of going back to them for reassurance that he’d be okay, he went to the door and put on his faded green converse, and slipped on his damp hoodie. it had rained on their walk there.
they thought he was gonna leave their apartment with no words but he turned around, rubbed at his mouth, and said, “you’re okay.” he didn’t tell them that he could love them. he didn’t tell them that they made him feel different. he didn’t tell them that they were special. he didn’t tell them about the boy with the long black hair. he didn’t tell them that he could love both of them if he tried.
he left.
where’s the kid with the chemicals?