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Despite the 1 am digital clock reading perched on a bedside table next to Marvin, his body refused to relax, rendering his recent sleep patterns as fitful and brief, partly due to the booming bass which the thin ceilings made no attempt to absorb.
“Where did ya come from? Where did ya go? Where did ya come from, cotton eye Joe?”
Dear lord, Marvin was going to need a word with his upstairs neighbors regarding their abysmal taste in music.
The city he resided in never slept, and it seems that neither did he, as distant sounds of road rage could still be heard at ungodly hours in the morning. Light filtered in through broken half-closed blinds in cycles of red, green, and yellow, creating various pinstripes across Marvin’s body much to his dismay. Incoherent mumbling from partygoers and alcoholics could be heard on the sidewalk below, inconsistent footsteps revealing differing levels of inebriation. Adjusting to the foreign environment proved difficult after living almost two years with Trina, but it wasn’t as difficult as if he had stayed, surrendering his life to an American nightmare. She deserved better, Marvin was well aware.
Different is good. Or as good as different can be.
Different in Marvin’s instance meant unwashed, sweaty sheets clenched in his fists, and a ceiling fan a little too far left for his liking. Different meant bumping into walls in his new two-bedroom apartment on his midnight trips to the bathroom or watching dirty piles of laundry slowly swallow the building itself. The shift was less than graceful and neither was the constant smell of damp socks.
“She’s a super freak, super freak, she’s super freaky.”
Twenty -three and living out of a frat-boy manifestation, Marv soon realized that his new rock bottom was sedimentary.
A drop of what seemed to be slightly viscous and sticky landed itself on the brunette's forehead, leaving a strange yeasty smell notifying its arrival. Marvin rolled the liquid between his fingertips and brought it up to his nostrils in hopes of identifying the source of this unwelcome intrusion.
Beer.
“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna turn around and desert you.”
Having had quite enough, Marvin sat up with purpose, walking barefoot across the scratchy carpet, gathering a dust-storm under the soles of his feet, it was time to give his lousy neighbors a piece of his goddamn mind.
For the fifteenth time, Marvin rapped his knuckles against the off-white door, tapping his dirty feet impatiently against the floor.
“This is utterly riduculou-” But before Marvin could finish, the door swung open revealing the most beautiful human he’d ever seen. About a few inches taller than himself, the man was sporting a mint button-up, tucked neatly in an expensive-looking pair of dark grey slacks, making Marvin self-conscious about his own attire, namely- dirty sweatpants, and a t-shirt filled with so many stains that it could be mistaken for a pollock original.
“Yeah?” The man said after an uncomfortably long silence, with a hand on his hip and an unimpressed gaze.
Clearing his throat at the sudden dryness, deciding that this was possibly the worst idea ever, he stood unsure of what he came here to do in the first place.
“H-hello, I’m Marvin.” He stammered through, blinking a socially unacceptable amount of time through the simple line.
“Ok.”
The man leaned against the doorframe, with an amused expression tugging at his face.
“Whatcha doing here Marvin?”
“Oh, nothing really,” Marvin started, beginning to retreat back down to his own apartment. “I was just- you know what? I’m just going to- “
“You wanna come in?”
Marvin wasn’t sure if what he’d just heard was correct. After all, it was one-thirty in the morning and he had a lecture at eight. “What?”
“Normally wouldn’t do this but,” the man swept his eyes over Marvin’s body, making the shorter man shrivel up more than he already was. He smirked at Marvin’s stupor, deciding that his foolish, sleep-deprived state was somehow more entertaining than whatever was happening behind him. “You’re kind of cute, so I’ll allow it.”
The man had the audacity to look smug with his stupid pretty face. The asshole. This encounter had been disastrous in every aspect, and Marvin hated most of all that a random pretty boy managed to spark his interest with less than five lines, more than his girlfriend ever did in nine years.
“I’m not gay.” Marvin blurted, attempting to convince himself more than anything else.
“Sure you aren’t buddy. Here, have a beer.” He handed over a barely cold heinie, and walked back into the chaos, but not before he yelled over his shoulder leaving the door open behind him as an open invitation to Marvin if he pleased.
“I’m Whizzer by the way.” He said before his voice was engulfed by the party, dancing his way over to a group of friends.
Of course, Marvin entered, gingerly closing the door and catching up behind Whizzer and his perfect ass.
What a night.