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I don't like them innocent
I don't want no face fresh
Want them wearing leather
Begging, let me be your taste test.
Newt still remembered the day he met Thomas. The blond had just been discharged from the hospital, or maybe he had just gone out for a walk, Newt can’t really remember. He was at the entrance of his apartment building and Thomas was just… there.
The brunet was by the side of the road, leaning on his motorcycle, as if he was waiting for someone. And Newt swore that his eyes lit up when he saw him. Thomas was the typical bad boy, Newt dared say. With a leather jacket and motorcycle, Thomas was dressed like the stereotypical bad boy. He told Newt that he was in a band, and Newt wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but that provided an excuse as to why he was out most nights.
I like the sad eyes, bad guys
Mouth full of white lies
Kiss me in the corridor,
But quick to tell me goodbye.
It didn’t take long for their relationship to progress quickly, and soon Thomas’s things were being left in Newt’s apartment and Newt found his bed more occupied than usual. Did Newt like him? He did. He liked him a lot. Maybe even more than he’s supposed to. A boy he just met by the side of a road couldn’t be that serious in wanting a relationship, right?
Thomas was confusing, really. Sometimes he was there all the time and sometimes he just wasn’t. Two weeks could past without Newt seeing him and suddenly he would be back and they would end up in bed again. It was like he was popping in whenever he wanted to, or when his schedule was free of gigs, if the band part was true.
You say that you're no good for me
Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve
And I swear I hate you when you leave
But I like it anyway.
Thomas was quick enough to use the label of ‘boyfriend’ with Newt, but for some reason the two rarely went out, and when they did the brunet seemed distant, like he was in some other place. He never invited Newt to any of his gigs either, and when he went to check out the places where they performed, the owners of the pub usually said they didn’t exist. It was like the band was a figment of Thomas’s imagination.
Newt knew he was getting a bit too attached to Thomas, but he found comfort in the weeks where the brunet is mysteriously gone. It reminded him of the fact that he never could really have him. And then Thomas would return and he would kiss Newt and Newt would end up seated on Thomas’s lap, the brunet moaning as he rode him. That was enough to knock Newt back to square one.
And then came the arguments.
My ghost
Where'd you go?
I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me
My ghost
Where'd you go?
What happened to the soul, that you used, to be?
Newt had finally confronted Thomas about the lack of his supposed band, and it didn’t end well. The brunet had said something about privacy and how he needed space, and Newt had replied with something along the lines of how he enjoyed the space Thomas gave him, and that he was just curious. It had ended with Thomas packing all his stuff up and leaving the apartment.
For the first time in the whole course of their relationship, Newt felt lonely. He didn’t think that Thomas would have gotten so angry, but maybe he should have expected it. If Thomas had gone out of his way to basically retrace his footsteps just like Newt did, he would have gotten pissed off too. Thomas’s phone didn’t work, and throughout the agonising two weeks Newt felt something heavy weighing down on his mind, but he didn’t know what. Maybe it was the fact that without Thomas there, his life routine didn’t change that much. The two hardly went out in public anyway.
After two weeks, Thomas came back.
You're a Rolling Stone boy
Never sleep alone boy
Got a million numbers
And they're filling up your phone, boy.
Even though Thomas had a different man’s scent on him, even though it was obvious that he wasn’t alone during the past two weeks and Newt was, Newt welcomed him back. It seemed that Thomas was around less these days, the only time he came to the apartment was at night and to roughly thrust into Newt.
It wasn’t that Newt didn’t know about Thomas’s hook-ups, he did. He knew Thomas had a bunch of other boys and girls to play with, and Newt was just one of them, even though Thomas always said that he was special because he was the first one. Newt still didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.
I'm off the deep end, sleeping
All night through the weekend.
Saying that I love him but
I know I'm gonna leave him.
Newt knew that he was letting his emotions and fantasies take over him, but the main reason why he was letting that happen is because of Thomas. Thomas, who never really seemed to care about anyone else except for him. Thomas, who only came back during the night.
At this point, Newt wasn’t going out at all, he never did much before he met Thomas anyway. At this point, he knew that he had just been discharged from the hospital for depression, and that was the only reason he was out. To go back home, but then he met Thomas.
People would have said that Newt loved Thomas, but Newt knew that he didn’t. How could he love someone who would never love him? He wasn’t even sure if they were still dating. Thomas was out so often now and Newt knew he was somewhere fucking some other guy and whispering sweet nothings to him. And it didn’t really hurt that much. Newt could do the same thing, but he wouldn’t.
You say that you're no good for me
Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve
And I swear I hate you when you leave
But I like it anyway.
Then there came a point where Thomas stopped coming back eventually. Newt guessed that he found a new boy to toy around with, just like how he played him.
It was like Thomas was never there. Newt’s apartment was free of his cologne, and the memory of them meeting was faded, blurry. None of Newt’s friends ever mentioned him dating a boy, which confused him, but he assumed that he never told them and they never asked. Thomas had basically disappeared from the face of Earth.
As Newt looked back on their past together, Thomas started to disappear. Maybe he never really existed in the first place.
I'm searching for something that I can't reach.