Chapter Text
tyler follows me, hovers in the empty space beside me as he walks me to work. he reminds me of a watch dog. he’d probably be a german shepherd, i can hear his claws scrape the concrete.
this early in the morning the sky is a dark, dull grey, and low. it sucks the tops of the buildings into it like a thick mist, and as the sun rises it’ll shine an almost dirty white. it’s drizzling, flattening my hair against my forehead. tyler offers me his jacket, but i decline.
“I’m sorry tyler, it’s not really my style.” i say. he shrugs and presses his glasses onto his face. a thin woman in a black dress suit sits at the bus stop, one of her legs crossed over the other, and her thin black umbrella propped up beside her brown and gold briefcase. she holds a book in her lap. i try to get a glance, but the title is in yellow cursive, so i can’t read it. her hair is pulled up in a neat, dark brown and blonde bun, and her nails look manicured. french tips. sheesh, what’s this broad doing around here anyway. can’t catch the bus on beverly lane? whatever. my head is pounding, and we’re out of coffee.
i sit on the farthest end of the bench from her side, and as always tyler stands next to me, slouched as he digs around in his pockets. i look him up and down before glancing over to the woman. she eyes us with distrust, and maybe repulsion. well, I don’t look that presentable anyway. my tie hangs loose around my neck- i don’t know why i even bother putting it on at this point -and i lost the top two buttons of my last stain free work shirt. my neck shines with assorted bites and bruises, and the fabric clings to my shoulders where the rain had soaked it through.
tyler nudges my shoulder with his hip, and the metal studs that dangle from his belt chain dig into my shoulder. they’re cold and wet and sharp. i look up, he’s got his hand held out in front of my mouth, a marlboro red between his middle and pointer finger. i take it between my lips, and the chapped skin scratches slightly along the cigarette paper, we cup our hands around the flame as he lights it.
it was there in every action, everyone knew it was always me and tyler. we might as well share a body with how rarely we part ways, i like to imagine how people talk about us. i’m sure they do. he seems quiet but i haven’t been very chatty myself, have i?
the bus pulls up, it’s tires sending a small splash of cold, grey water lapping at our loafers. as the lady gathers her things the bus comes to a stop, and i stand. i suck on tyler’s cigarette and look at him all tired, letting the smoke climb up my cheeks and get in my eyes like marla does for a second before puffing. you didn’t hear it from me, but i caught tyler staring at marla whenever she smoked back when they were together. she probably looks a lot better, but i think he likes it more when i do it.
he smiles at me, taking his cigarette back as the bus doors hiss open. i turn to leave, and tyler catches my shoulder, pulling me in for a kiss. his breath smells fucking terrible, he tastes like an ashtray.
when we pull away i kiss his cheek. i lean in and mumble “tyler your breath smells fucking terrible.”
“thank you,” he preens, and pushes me off towards the bus, sticking his hands in his pockets and letting his smoke dangle from the corner of his mouth “have a good day at work, doll.”
i roll my eyes and spin on my heel, making my way to bus door. The lady in the dress suit is standing on the first stair, back turned to the driver, looking at me with a worrisome expression. we stare at eachother for a moment before i awkwardly look to tyler, who shrugs. she looks kind of constipated, i wonder briefly if she’s realizing she’s on the wrong bus or something.
“is there an issue ma’am?” the bus driver speaks softly, his voice stern but still quiet. it seems to snap her out of her fuzz and she turns around, quickly making her way up the steps and apologizing as she pays for her ticket. i shrug, and wave to tyler before assuming my own route to the back seat.
the day isn’t particularly hellish, but it isn’t particularly good either. i spend my shift leaned back in my chair, idling Tetris and writing haikus in spare tabs i have pulled up. i’m thinking about tyler, something uncomfortable and sad pools in my gut. i get so lost in a daydream of him, i almost don’t catch my boss when he walks in.
he has nothing important to say, but he never does. a brief chastising over my shirt and tie, my hair. he tells me to stop smoking in here, and i wait until he’s walked away to light a cigarette and go back to my 18th or 19th round of Tetris. as i smoke, i can imagine how tyler would grab my hand and turn it palm up. he’d roll up my sleeve and run his thumb over the veins there.
i bet he’d look at me, and i’d watch the way he plucked his lit piece from his lips and hover it over my skin. i lean back in my chair some, think about how i’d almost be able to feel the singe when he taps the ashes off and brings it away. hed laugh when i melt in what must be relief.
“what? i’d never do that to you.” he’d say, and he’d laugh when i take my arm back and roll my eyes. he’d grab my wrist again as i go to pull down my sleeve. he’d kiss my cheek, and pause and say something like: “..you seem disappointed.”
the lit tip of my cigarette grinding into my inner wrist is hot and acute, snaps me out of my little fantasy. i jump and nervously drop the cig into my ashtray. i shake the electricity out of my hand, rubbing my thumb over my wrist in slow soothing circles. i mumble a curse under my breath before re-lighting.
“do we have bandaids, tyler?” my voice breaks a little bit when i call out as i force in the front door with my shoulder, and the floor creaks under my weight when i move to hang up my tie. i drape it over the nail-turned-coat-hanger, letting my briefcase hit the ground a little too hard when i drop it. tyler pokes his head out of the kitchen, cigarette dangling from the corner of his grin. i feel my shoulders slump despite myself, my knees bump together and i start to get all queazy. im so relieved just to see him.
“Yeah sure, get over here first freak show.” he holds his arms out, propping himself up on the door frame. i meander over and wrap my arms securely around his waist. i melt into him and he laughs, all annoying and crackly. i stuff my face into the groove of his neck, i squeeze him tightly, he smells like bad barbecue and sawdust and 13 dollar cologne. i breathe him in. i tell him i missed him today and he laughs again, lighter this time.
“you’re a bitch, i missed you too. come on, how’d you hurt yourself now?” he pries himself away from me and i sigh, wrap my arms around myself.
“don’t worry about me tyler, can i just have it?” i say, and he smiles, leaning on the counter and pulling a bandage out of his pocket.
“just let me see babe, don’t be a pain.” he grins, and i sigh, dragging my feet over until i stand between his legs where he sits on the kitchen counter. i give him my hand, turned up in surrender, the cuff of my sleeve pulled up to the elbow. my wrist sports a half dozen raw pink cigarette burns, and tyler clicks his tongue. he brings my wrist up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to it. it hurts very badly.
“well, look at that. let’s get you fixed up cowboy.” he flicks the bandaid from between his fingers and hops up off the counter, leading me upstairs. when we get to the bathroom, he sits me down on the side of the bathtub, and i look at my shoes. i don’t have any memory of my mother cleaning my skinned knees, i’ve never had anything to compare the experience to.
tyler lines up his materials and gets on his knees in front of me. he holds my hand with his thumb pressed firmly into my palm. he cleans the burns with a stream of hydrogen peroxide, and the residual burn is not pleasant. i chew on the inside of my cheek, dig my heel into the side of his thigh. tyler even wraps my wrist up in bandaging, and he’s looking at me with this snarky little look, and i know what he’s going to ask.
“don’t worry about it tyler.” i say. “this isn’t some cry for help thing, it wasn’t even on purpose. the first one wasn’t.” he smiles at me, and i pull my hand away now, holding it against my stomach. he puts his hands on my waist, and i kind of melt.
“I’m just embarrassed.” i add.
“You’re just retarded.” he squeezes my hips, then pushes up off his knees and kisses me. “Why’d you do it?” he says, holding my face in his hands while he’s bent to my hight.
“i was thinking about you.” i mumble, and my good hand sort of shoots out to grab a handful of his shirt as my brain catches up with tyler’s movement. I wish i wasnt so neurotic, I hate feeling so venerable. “don’t leave.” i’ll die if you leave right now.
tyler raises his eyebrows for a second, and then his expression falls into a softer sort of smirking look. he slides back to his knees, and i am almost instantly soothed. i let go of tyler’s shirt.
“yeah?” tyler says, and he wraps his arms all loose around my waist.
“yeah..” i look to the side. we’re silent for a minute, and he grins.
“you shoulda called in sick.” tyler finally says, and this time when he stands up he pulls me with him. my legs shake. it’s still early, we have things to do. tyler puts his arms around my waist, kisses under my eye, and then my chin and the cut on my cheek. i put my hands on his chest, push back slightly, but he just pushes forward. he finally gives me a real kiss, and i roll my eyes.
at fight club that night, i fight this new kid, gordy. this kid had to be 110 soaking wet, standing tall at a whole five foot three inches. i almost feel bad when i throw the first hit, but this scrappy ass kid is more than he looks. he’s ontop of me in a minute, wailing on my ribs. i’m able to get out of it actually pretty easy, the kid has a lot of bulk to put on before he can win a real fight. i left him with a few solid bruises, but he looked real excited just to hear all the praises when the fight was over.
tyler fought some twink hippie with long black hair. i knew him, he was a barista at the starbucks on 81st street, and he fought hard. it wasn’t exactly a regular fight, i could feel it. he had wanted to fight tyler specifically, been looking forward to it. i don’t usually get jealous over stuff like that, everyone wanted a piece of tyler. he was a revolutionary, a prophet, most of the roaches in this hole should feel lucky to breathe his air. but he was still my friend first. tyler was supposed to be just mine.
i pout the entire walk home. tyler grabs at my hand but i just pull it away. when we get home i try to b-line for my bedroom but he grabs my arm, harder this time. i curse at him, frowning and moving to yank my arm away but i don’t.
“come on, don’t be a girl. i can’t read your mind, i don’t even know what i did wrong. please just tell me what happened.” tyler says. i pull my arm out of his fist but i don’t walk away, i just shove my hands into my pockets and brood.
“you didn’t do anything tyler can’t you just drop it? it’s nothing you can even fix. i just want to go to bed.” i say. he looks at me long and hard, and he starts to pull his jacket off.
“just tell me what happened, please.” he says, his voice sounds rough and irritated but it’s lowered in an attempt to sound gentle.
tyler isn’t gentle, i tell myself, but i regret the thought almost immediately. i dig my nails into my palm.
“nothing happened tyler! nothing happened. i swear.” he’s hanging up his jacket, and he steps up to me and frowns.
“then why are you upset?” tyler says. i want to deflate. i put my face in my hands before running them back through my hair.
“it’s a bitch thing.” i say. he doesn’t say anything, and when i look at him he gestures with his hand, roughly. a sort of “and?” motion. i groan, shake my head. the way he stands there, he’s so confused, it fills me with some kind of anger. i think i go fucking blind from it, because he’s saying something but i can’t even hear it. i wish he would just drop it. i get in his face, and whatever he was saying drains out of his mouth as i grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him. i kiss him hard and bruising and rough, i bite him and bust open his split lip, i suck the blood out of it. we break away for a moment and he goes to say something, but i’m not listening.
“wait, are we still fighting?” tyler must say.
i grab him by his hair, i dig my nails hard into his scalp and i look him right in those stupid puppy dog eyes of his, and i headbutt him as hard as i can. it hurts like a bitch, and i hear him laugh and cuss as the ringing goes down. we’re kissing again and i grab at his shirt now, pulling him closer.
i back him up against the stair railing, he yelps when the cold water damaged wood hits the small of his back. our kiss falls apart and i take the opportunity to work my mouth down his neck. i find that weak spot between the bend in his shoulder and his neck and i bite down hard, when his knee meets my stomach i think i probably should have expected it, and i double over a little bit.
“fuck! that fucking hurt!” he almost laughs, grabbing me by my hair, and when he forces me to look up at him i bat my eyelashes and give him a big winning smile. he punches me in the face.
“i’m sorry,” i slur, my tongue gushes blood and gives me a lisp, and i grin. “i’m sorry..” my teeth are orange and red with it, it runs down my chin. he punches me again, so hard my hair slips out of his fist and sends me face first into the staircase. my nose collides into the wood with a sickening crack. it’s fucking broken. tyler just broke my fucking nose.
i flip myself over, palms behind me on the stair, my body like a rag doll splayed out over the bottom half of the ornate wood work.
“you just broke my fucking nose.” i say. i feel thick rivers of dark red molasses start to gush out of my nostrils, over my lips, down my chin and all over my last good white button up. i hear each drop pitter patter in thick hot clumps.
“shit. did i?” he looks at me, panting softly. he wipes his own bloody nose off on his wrist, smacking his lips.
i bring a hand up to my nose and i see white when i touch it. more and more blood is running down my face, im choking on it. i spit a mouthful out and let it slough down my neck. “yes.” i say.
he holds a hand out and i take it, he helps me to my feet and i grab his shirt in both hands. i’m taller than tyler, standing on the bottom stair while he’s on the ground.
“i’m sorry.” he says. i open my mouth to respond and a mouthful of blood splatters out and splats on his shoe. i pull him flush to me and kiss him again, it’s open mouthed and wet, tyler is more enthusiastic this time, he runs his tongue up from my lips to drink in the blood that pours from my face. he moans into it, into my mouth when i drool another mouthful of dark red down our chins. he wraps his arms around my waist and breaks the kiss, looks up at me.
“what,” i use my sleeve to clean the blood off his mouth “you look like you ate out some girl on her period.”
“what’s up with you dude.” tyler laughs. i shake my head and run my hands into his hair. he and i start to back up the stairs.
“i just don’t want you to find anyone else. don’t bring anyone else in.” i say, keeping our eyes locked. he follows my hands where they tangle into his dirty blonde hair.
“is that what this is baby? jealous? you know you’re my number one.” tyler says, laughing. i frown, pull on his hair.
“no, i’m not jealous. i’m not worried about being yours tyler, i want you to be mine.” his smile fades, and hes my hight again at the top of the stairs.
“yeah?” tyler says, his hands hovering my waist. he watches my nose continuously drip hot red blood. it stains the carpet.
“yeah.” i say. and he kisses me.