Most fucking awesome Monday ever. Charlotte wasn't a city Demetri was intimately familiar with, but. Warped 2013. Hawthorne Heights on stage in two hours. The details and Demetri didn't get along, after all that.
He was a bit distracted, he'd been hunkering down on one of those new age-y type Tumblr fiction prompt sites recently, 'least in his free time. He'd had a lot of it this summer so far. End of this summer, then a year, then... High school. Shit... he'd almost just realized the time scales involved here.
Demetri glanced to one side. There was his dude. Brown boy- but Demetri was blind to that sort of thing anyways, provided they weren't one of those more shady types- and putting all kinds of green dye and metal in and on his body in weird places where it probably didn't belong. Apparently the thing nowadays was that Lorenz and his mom weren't tight, or were shouty at each other or something. Demetri hadn't been paying too much attention to the specifics. What was it he'd said... details weren't his best friends, something along those lines. But Demetri had offered Lorenz a spot in his house to crash, space on the ratty ass couch if he needed it. Captive audience for his jams, anyways. Demetri with yet more of his free time- he was a busy dude, this summer- was working on some new music. It was like... if he wanted to get over himself and man up by the time he hit the Freshman scene, he needed a hook.
Enter the old school guitar. Speaking of which.
The stage and the crowd, both on the other side of the concession stands currently between the two tween boys and unadulterated punk rock, exploded and some shit like that. Loud and proud. Demetri didn't know what other words he'd use to describe it.
For himself, pretty simple. He kept the punk thing pretty even-tempered, anyhow. Slightly trashed at the knee jeans- and the trashing had been a garage accident, not a social statement or whatever. Plain black tee. Face notably free of sharp metal, or makeup. Demetri kind of envied Lorenz for being more bold with that sort of shit, he guessed. Might have been cool to be so attention-grabbing and confident.
Lorenz was fucking cool. Didn't take shit from no one. Demetri bet he'd kill it on the Chan.
"Crowd looks even more poser this year, dude." Casual observation. Too much brand merchandise, screamed 'money' to Demetri, more than 'lifestyle'. "Anymore Hot Topic and we're walking through any old mall, y'know?"
Jawbreaker
(PMing Tonyksin!)
Jawbreaker
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
[Lorenzo Tavares Memories Continued From I'm (Not) Okay]
The Music blared loudly in the distance as the two middle schoolers approached the concession area at what was basically Mecca for angst-ridden teenagers, Warped Tour 2013. The crowds were surging, and people of all ages stormed the gates to get inside and rock out to the awesome lineup of bands this year’s event had in store for them. Lorenzo was no different. Some of his favorite bands were going to be here today, and it excited him to no end. Hawthorne Heights, Forever the Sickest Kids, Blessthefall!, The Story So Far… there were too many to name that he couldn’t wait to see live. Lorenzo unconsciously began to smooth out his Blessthefall! “Till Death Do Us Art” Graphic tee. He was a little nervous, but like, excited nervous, y’know?This was his absolute favorite music festival. This was a big deal to him. The night before he re-dyed his hair with some pharmacy bought green hair dye, and spent hours figuring out the best outfit to wear for the day. He settled on the aforementioned Graphic tee, a pair of skin tight black skinny jeans that were pretty worn down with rips and holes, his favorite pair of black Converse hightops, and his normal jewelry.
Lorenzo’s mom wasn’t exactly happy with all the piercings he’d gotten recently, and the two had a huge blow-out about it. So for now, with his father’s permission while he tried to smooth things over, Lorenzo was sort of crashing with Demetri. Which was fine. It was great. No problems whatsoever. No lingering glances when Demetri was getting changed. No super uncomfortable and embarrassing try-your-best-to-hide-it boners at the worst times when they were alone together. No extremely realistic and graphic dreams of the two of them in… compromising positions. No heart-pounding emotions bubbling to the surface whenever he would sit and listen to his friend when he would practice some new music on him. Nope, none of that was definitely happening all of the time and driving him to the edge of crazy. Everything was absolutely fucking peachy.
Lorenzo was broken out of his train of thought by Demetri’s voice. He looked over at his friend quickly, missing the first half of what he said. Lorenzo felt his face redden a bit and looked away quickly, laughing a bit to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah man, I dunno where some of these people think they are.”
He turned to look at Demetri again. This was his closest friend in the world right now, and he was having all these mixed up weird feelings and he didn’t know what to do with them. Some part of him held onto the hope that maybe these feelings were reciprocated. Maybe these feelings were normal. Maybe Demetri would understand. He frowned slightly.
“So… what stage are we heading to first?”
The Music blared loudly in the distance as the two middle schoolers approached the concession area at what was basically Mecca for angst-ridden teenagers, Warped Tour 2013. The crowds were surging, and people of all ages stormed the gates to get inside and rock out to the awesome lineup of bands this year’s event had in store for them. Lorenzo was no different. Some of his favorite bands were going to be here today, and it excited him to no end. Hawthorne Heights, Forever the Sickest Kids, Blessthefall!, The Story So Far… there were too many to name that he couldn’t wait to see live. Lorenzo unconsciously began to smooth out his Blessthefall! “Till Death Do Us Art” Graphic tee. He was a little nervous, but like, excited nervous, y’know?This was his absolute favorite music festival. This was a big deal to him. The night before he re-dyed his hair with some pharmacy bought green hair dye, and spent hours figuring out the best outfit to wear for the day. He settled on the aforementioned Graphic tee, a pair of skin tight black skinny jeans that were pretty worn down with rips and holes, his favorite pair of black Converse hightops, and his normal jewelry.
Lorenzo’s mom wasn’t exactly happy with all the piercings he’d gotten recently, and the two had a huge blow-out about it. So for now, with his father’s permission while he tried to smooth things over, Lorenzo was sort of crashing with Demetri. Which was fine. It was great. No problems whatsoever. No lingering glances when Demetri was getting changed. No super uncomfortable and embarrassing try-your-best-to-hide-it boners at the worst times when they were alone together. No extremely realistic and graphic dreams of the two of them in… compromising positions. No heart-pounding emotions bubbling to the surface whenever he would sit and listen to his friend when he would practice some new music on him. Nope, none of that was definitely happening all of the time and driving him to the edge of crazy. Everything was absolutely fucking peachy.
Lorenzo was broken out of his train of thought by Demetri’s voice. He looked over at his friend quickly, missing the first half of what he said. Lorenzo felt his face redden a bit and looked away quickly, laughing a bit to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah man, I dunno where some of these people think they are.”
He turned to look at Demetri again. This was his closest friend in the world right now, and he was having all these mixed up weird feelings and he didn’t know what to do with them. Some part of him held onto the hope that maybe these feelings were reciprocated. Maybe these feelings were normal. Maybe Demetri would understand. He frowned slightly.
“So… what stage are we heading to first?”
Blessthefall! was good taste. They did sprinkle in a bit too much of those computer sounding drums and sounds for Demetri's taste sometimes, but he still had their three albums on iTunes. Jury was out on whether he was getting the fourth upcoming this August, but the singles had been decent enough to date.
He'd probably trust Lorenz's call. They'd spent about as much time together in the past few weeks as you could expect two decent, red-blooded and god-fearing hetero dudes to spend linked up at the arms- no homo on the hand holding. Yeesh, awkward joke. Even unsaid. Anyways. Mom and Dad were both pretty familiar with Lorenz now, liked him a good deal. They dealt with the whole alt-look thing whenever Hannah bothered to spend more than five minutes over, those rare days she didn't have a friend's to crash at and do her... satanic rituals, or whatever the fuck it was her black-lipstick black-eyeliner black-soul black-penis loving chick friends got up to in their free time. So they dealt with Lorenz more than fine when he had the Demetri stamp of approval.
The hair dye stains in the sink had been left for Mom to clean up though. They'd needed to pull an all-nighter drive after getting ready.
Dad was probably out in the distant crowd of another stage somewhere, drinking it in. The scene wasn't totally his taste, but Carl Futscher was still pretty with it when he wanted to be. Shit, Demetri hoped someday he'd be half the dad his Dad was.
Lorenz looked red. Shit, overheating or something. Good thing they were next in the milling pile of bodies once called a line. Demetri held up two fingers, forked over crinkled dollars as he meekly shouted for sweating bottles of water. He handed one over, blessing it with a brief moment of tween sentiment.
"Architects are playing Monster Energy in like an hour..." Demetri grunted, almost choking up a gulp of water as he grabbed at a fistful of his own slightly sweaty bangs. "But chances are we'll see Dad there, fuck that. We could..." he wrestled with trying to stuff his now half drained water bottle- one gulp, he'd been a bit dehydrated himself- into a pocket until it broke like... something stretched out, probably a gross euphemism in there somewhere, something. "Camp Kia, but like, only Hawthorne is playing and it's in a few, your other must-sees kinda scattered to the four winds."
Demetri could feel his throat raw, trying to keep shouting like this. He'd never realized it took this much energy to be loud.
"We could troll around for merch, I can phone Dad whenever we need to hide shit in the car."
He'd probably trust Lorenz's call. They'd spent about as much time together in the past few weeks as you could expect two decent, red-blooded and god-fearing hetero dudes to spend linked up at the arms- no homo on the hand holding. Yeesh, awkward joke. Even unsaid. Anyways. Mom and Dad were both pretty familiar with Lorenz now, liked him a good deal. They dealt with the whole alt-look thing whenever Hannah bothered to spend more than five minutes over, those rare days she didn't have a friend's to crash at and do her... satanic rituals, or whatever the fuck it was her black-lipstick black-eyeliner black-soul black-penis loving chick friends got up to in their free time. So they dealt with Lorenz more than fine when he had the Demetri stamp of approval.
The hair dye stains in the sink had been left for Mom to clean up though. They'd needed to pull an all-nighter drive after getting ready.
Dad was probably out in the distant crowd of another stage somewhere, drinking it in. The scene wasn't totally his taste, but Carl Futscher was still pretty with it when he wanted to be. Shit, Demetri hoped someday he'd be half the dad his Dad was.
Lorenz looked red. Shit, overheating or something. Good thing they were next in the milling pile of bodies once called a line. Demetri held up two fingers, forked over crinkled dollars as he meekly shouted for sweating bottles of water. He handed one over, blessing it with a brief moment of tween sentiment.
"Architects are playing Monster Energy in like an hour..." Demetri grunted, almost choking up a gulp of water as he grabbed at a fistful of his own slightly sweaty bangs. "But chances are we'll see Dad there, fuck that. We could..." he wrestled with trying to stuff his now half drained water bottle- one gulp, he'd been a bit dehydrated himself- into a pocket until it broke like... something stretched out, probably a gross euphemism in there somewhere, something. "Camp Kia, but like, only Hawthorne is playing and it's in a few, your other must-sees kinda scattered to the four winds."
Demetri could feel his throat raw, trying to keep shouting like this. He'd never realized it took this much energy to be loud.
"We could troll around for merch, I can phone Dad whenever we need to hide shit in the car."
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Lorenzo took the bottle of water Demetri handed him with a look of thanks, and quickly opened and took a few sips from it. It was hot enough as is, being the middle of summer, but all this body heat around them certainly didn’t help. I didn’t seem like anyone they really wanted to see was playing just yet, and there was plenty of time until they had to head over to the Kia stage for Hawthorne Heights, so shelling out money for shitty merchandise didn’t really sound like a bad plan of action. Besides, if they didn’t do it now it was doubtful they’d get another chance at some of the better stuff. All the good buys were usually sold out quick at these things. Lorenzo wiped his forehead sweat away with the back of his hand and stood on his tiptoes trying to see over the sea of people towards the merch area.
“Yeah… I’m down to buy some stuff before it gets too crazy. I still have my Dad’s card for ‘emergencies’, and I think Warped counts as an emergency.” He pulled the card from his pocket and flashed it at his friend, grinning. “Let’s go buy some crap.”
The duo pushed their way through the crowd towards the tent area. It was a bit of a pain to get over there, especially for a couple of kids. No one really seemed to pay them any mind or even try to let them through, so the struggle was a bit annoying. Lorenzo hip checked a couple of assholes who wouldn’t move as he made his way. Not like they’d know it was him anyway, and it was a good way to get out some of the aggression he had building up from all these people surrounding him. As they finally started to get close to the tents Lorenzo got shoved into on his left side, sending him down to the ground hard. He grunted as he collected himself and stood up. Guess that was karma. Fucking assholes. He kind of lost track of Demetri in the shuffle, but they couldn’t have gotten too far from each other. Lorenzo started to head towards the “Never Shout Never” merch tent in front of him. Dem would probably head over to this one too so he figured he’d just wait there for them to meet back up. As he got there he started to look at the merch they had for sale, but out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of something and he turned to focus on it. He felt his breath catch in his throat for a second.
There were these two guys. Both definitely older than him. They had beers in their hands so probably in their twenties. They were both really hot too. Like super metal-head looking. They looked just like everyone else in the crowd basically but they were… touching each other. Like in a super affectionate way. The one guy had his hand on the other guy’s chest, and their faces were super close together. The other guy had his hand on the first guy’s hip, and he kind of pulled him closer and then… Holy Shit. Lorenzo felt his face burn up as he watched. It was like a surreal experience. These two, super hot dudes were just… making out in the middle of all these people like it was nothing. Like it was completely normal. And it didn’t seem like anyone else was even noticing or caring.
What… the… fuck? It was… it was awesome. He’d never actually seen two guys like… together like that. Not in real life anyway. Sure the internet was great and had loads of porn and pictures of dudes going at it but… this was literally right in front of him. His mind felt like it was exploding. He couldn’t look away. It felt like he was watching it happen in slow motion. Lorenzo felt his stomach tighten and then felt his pants tighten right along with it. He felt his face get even redder and he pulled at his tee-shirt, trying to discreetly stretch the material down to cover his crotch without ever breaking his gaze from the scene in front of him. He was so lost in his own world, he completely forgot he was waiting to meet back up with Demetri.
“Yeah… I’m down to buy some stuff before it gets too crazy. I still have my Dad’s card for ‘emergencies’, and I think Warped counts as an emergency.” He pulled the card from his pocket and flashed it at his friend, grinning. “Let’s go buy some crap.”
The duo pushed their way through the crowd towards the tent area. It was a bit of a pain to get over there, especially for a couple of kids. No one really seemed to pay them any mind or even try to let them through, so the struggle was a bit annoying. Lorenzo hip checked a couple of assholes who wouldn’t move as he made his way. Not like they’d know it was him anyway, and it was a good way to get out some of the aggression he had building up from all these people surrounding him. As they finally started to get close to the tents Lorenzo got shoved into on his left side, sending him down to the ground hard. He grunted as he collected himself and stood up. Guess that was karma. Fucking assholes. He kind of lost track of Demetri in the shuffle, but they couldn’t have gotten too far from each other. Lorenzo started to head towards the “Never Shout Never” merch tent in front of him. Dem would probably head over to this one too so he figured he’d just wait there for them to meet back up. As he got there he started to look at the merch they had for sale, but out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of something and he turned to focus on it. He felt his breath catch in his throat for a second.
There were these two guys. Both definitely older than him. They had beers in their hands so probably in their twenties. They were both really hot too. Like super metal-head looking. They looked just like everyone else in the crowd basically but they were… touching each other. Like in a super affectionate way. The one guy had his hand on the other guy’s chest, and their faces were super close together. The other guy had his hand on the first guy’s hip, and he kind of pulled him closer and then… Holy Shit. Lorenzo felt his face burn up as he watched. It was like a surreal experience. These two, super hot dudes were just… making out in the middle of all these people like it was nothing. Like it was completely normal. And it didn’t seem like anyone else was even noticing or caring.
What… the… fuck? It was… it was awesome. He’d never actually seen two guys like… together like that. Not in real life anyway. Sure the internet was great and had loads of porn and pictures of dudes going at it but… this was literally right in front of him. His mind felt like it was exploding. He couldn’t look away. It felt like he was watching it happen in slow motion. Lorenzo felt his stomach tighten and then felt his pants tighten right along with it. He felt his face get even redder and he pulled at his tee-shirt, trying to discreetly stretch the material down to cover his crotch without ever breaking his gaze from the scene in front of him. He was so lost in his own world, he completely forgot he was waiting to meet back up with Demetri.
(( Quick OOC trigger warning, one definite racial slur used in this post, and generally homophobic. Watch for that sort of content in all Demetri posts from this post on. ))
'... and I think Warped counts as an emergency.'
Shit, Demetri had almost opened his mouth. He wasn't any kind of weasel or SJW-type brigade, it was just...
Well, all well and good that Lorenz had plenty of discretionary income to blow on strippers or whatever his heart so pleased. Demetri wasn't jealous, or he at least wouldn't use that word. Just seemed like a waste. Dishonest use of money that was clearly just there to be a discretionary-type fund. Cash for a rainy day. Say Lorenz spent that shit then there was suddenly, like... some kind of natural disaster, whichever sort even carved this deep into the state of NC. Disrespectful to his father's intentions, never mind if Mr. Lorenz's-Tex-Mex-Last-Name was just as much of a control freak as the Mom was. It was all kinds of wrong, really. Dishonorable. Demetri would have used that sort of word if he were an unironic weeb, as opposed to his in-proximity status to anime fandoms because of his fanfictions and shit. Just... Demetri didn't know how to put it. He wasn't going to be anal about it anyways, he wasn't that kind of dweeb.
Shit, where had Lorenz gone? Demetri had been getting all kinds of ass handed his way by the jostling of the crowd. One second he was looking this-a-ways, next second his body was weakly tumbling that-a-way, said way being the direction where he was suddenly crammed by the soft bits under his ribs against a plastic table and his friend was gone. Demetri straightened up, bounced by a swinging elbow off some pillow-feeling spot of an ebony-hair girl he hoped wasn't one of those spots. He shuffled away quick, an apology swallowed down because he'd seem like a tool for trying.
He skirted around a few people forming some sort of Great Chink Wall, shoulder to shoulder, stoically staring at something Demetri couldn't see. Hard to see around all the meatheads occupying perfectly usable space like it was...
Two shavehead dudes kissing? Right, Demetri was pretty bad with the metaphorical language and all, but even that random-ass metaphor wasn't up to his own low bar.
Demetri watched, a bit odd-feeling. Like he'd just scarfed down raw fish and other assorted bad ideas from Shangri-La on 7th. Not like homos could make him actually puke or anything. It was the 21st century, but this was pretty damn in his face all of a sudden. Demetri wasn't exactly drinking the image of scruffy dude lips scraping up each other all that well... it was like watching sandpaper or some shit. 'Bout as quickly as he looked he looked away, pointedly glaring off to one side. 'Get a room', 'get some lube', plenty more advice Demetri was musing on shouting out. More accurately, mumbling menacingly to himself as he scooted on by. Jeez, there was Lorenz. Finally.
Demetri grazed and scraped the sides of the small half circle that had formed around the gay boys. World's worst ever mosh pit. He found Lorenz staring as well... dude probably wasn't as off put as that whole thing. Was Lorenz religious? Demetri wasn't that aware of his friend's intimate life, comfortable dude limits and all that, Demetri was no chick. Whatever. More power to Lorenz if his dude was tolerant and modern... probably scored him more chicks. Before Demetri could muse too much on that potential perk of being worldly, he was already speaking.
"Yo, dude. This stand's got a decent selection, let's check it out..." An awkward second passed, where Demetri wasn't even sure if he'd been heard.
"If you want to join in I can wait for you." Might as well have thrown the quick jab in. Demetri almost cringed backward, even, expecting a sudden right hook. Maybe half-joking, maybe not so.
'... and I think Warped counts as an emergency.'
Shit, Demetri had almost opened his mouth. He wasn't any kind of weasel or SJW-type brigade, it was just...
Well, all well and good that Lorenz had plenty of discretionary income to blow on strippers or whatever his heart so pleased. Demetri wasn't jealous, or he at least wouldn't use that word. Just seemed like a waste. Dishonest use of money that was clearly just there to be a discretionary-type fund. Cash for a rainy day. Say Lorenz spent that shit then there was suddenly, like... some kind of natural disaster, whichever sort even carved this deep into the state of NC. Disrespectful to his father's intentions, never mind if Mr. Lorenz's-Tex-Mex-Last-Name was just as much of a control freak as the Mom was. It was all kinds of wrong, really. Dishonorable. Demetri would have used that sort of word if he were an unironic weeb, as opposed to his in-proximity status to anime fandoms because of his fanfictions and shit. Just... Demetri didn't know how to put it. He wasn't going to be anal about it anyways, he wasn't that kind of dweeb.
Shit, where had Lorenz gone? Demetri had been getting all kinds of ass handed his way by the jostling of the crowd. One second he was looking this-a-ways, next second his body was weakly tumbling that-a-way, said way being the direction where he was suddenly crammed by the soft bits under his ribs against a plastic table and his friend was gone. Demetri straightened up, bounced by a swinging elbow off some pillow-feeling spot of an ebony-hair girl he hoped wasn't one of those spots. He shuffled away quick, an apology swallowed down because he'd seem like a tool for trying.
He skirted around a few people forming some sort of Great Chink Wall, shoulder to shoulder, stoically staring at something Demetri couldn't see. Hard to see around all the meatheads occupying perfectly usable space like it was...
Two shavehead dudes kissing? Right, Demetri was pretty bad with the metaphorical language and all, but even that random-ass metaphor wasn't up to his own low bar.
Demetri watched, a bit odd-feeling. Like he'd just scarfed down raw fish and other assorted bad ideas from Shangri-La on 7th. Not like homos could make him actually puke or anything. It was the 21st century, but this was pretty damn in his face all of a sudden. Demetri wasn't exactly drinking the image of scruffy dude lips scraping up each other all that well... it was like watching sandpaper or some shit. 'Bout as quickly as he looked he looked away, pointedly glaring off to one side. 'Get a room', 'get some lube', plenty more advice Demetri was musing on shouting out. More accurately, mumbling menacingly to himself as he scooted on by. Jeez, there was Lorenz. Finally.
Demetri grazed and scraped the sides of the small half circle that had formed around the gay boys. World's worst ever mosh pit. He found Lorenz staring as well... dude probably wasn't as off put as that whole thing. Was Lorenz religious? Demetri wasn't that aware of his friend's intimate life, comfortable dude limits and all that, Demetri was no chick. Whatever. More power to Lorenz if his dude was tolerant and modern... probably scored him more chicks. Before Demetri could muse too much on that potential perk of being worldly, he was already speaking.
"Yo, dude. This stand's got a decent selection, let's check it out..." An awkward second passed, where Demetri wasn't even sure if he'd been heard.
"If you want to join in I can wait for you." Might as well have thrown the quick jab in. Demetri almost cringed backward, even, expecting a sudden right hook. Maybe half-joking, maybe not so.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
"If you want to join in I can wait for you."
Lorenzo jumped a bit at Demetri’s sudden appearance next to him. He was quickly shaken out of his daze and he looked at his friend for a second before he really processed what Demetri had said to him. He felt his eyes widen and his jaw clench as he stared at Demetri. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Lorenzo didn’t know how to react. He felt his mind racing to try and come up with some sort of excuse. Some sort of reason why he was watching that was as far from reality as possible. Some sort of protection from having his innermost desires and thoughts displayed in front of his friend. He felt his heartbeat start to quicken dramatically, and felt himself sweating even more than he should have been normally in the heat of the day. What should he do? He opened his mouth to try and say something, but all that came out was air, as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time he’d been standing there. Lorenzo looked into Demetri’s eyes, pleading with his own silently for understanding. However, the only thing he saw in his friend’s eyes was disgust.
Lorenzo felt sick. He couldn’t breathe. His heartbeat was frantic, beating so fast and hard it felt like it was pounding inside his skull. He felt like everyone was looking at him. Like he was under a spotlight and the whole world around him was full of figures in the shadows silently judging him. His eyes wavered from Demetri and looked to the ground. He felt his hands close tightly into fists and before he knew what he was doing he felt the words come pouring out of him like a busted faucet.
“So what?! What the fuck do you care?! I… I can do what I want! It’s none of your business!” Lorenzo felt himself breathing heavy. He looked up at Demetri again, begging him with his eyes to be okay with this. To pretend nothing was different. He felt himself take a step forward towards his friend. He felt the truth welling up inside him, threatening to explode out if he didn't say it first. Lorenzo felt his voice break as he spoke again.
“Dem, I… I think… no…” He took a deep breath before he continued. “Dem, I’m gay.”
Lorenzo jumped a bit at Demetri’s sudden appearance next to him. He was quickly shaken out of his daze and he looked at his friend for a second before he really processed what Demetri had said to him. He felt his eyes widen and his jaw clench as he stared at Demetri. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Lorenzo didn’t know how to react. He felt his mind racing to try and come up with some sort of excuse. Some sort of reason why he was watching that was as far from reality as possible. Some sort of protection from having his innermost desires and thoughts displayed in front of his friend. He felt his heartbeat start to quicken dramatically, and felt himself sweating even more than he should have been normally in the heat of the day. What should he do? He opened his mouth to try and say something, but all that came out was air, as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time he’d been standing there. Lorenzo looked into Demetri’s eyes, pleading with his own silently for understanding. However, the only thing he saw in his friend’s eyes was disgust.
Lorenzo felt sick. He couldn’t breathe. His heartbeat was frantic, beating so fast and hard it felt like it was pounding inside his skull. He felt like everyone was looking at him. Like he was under a spotlight and the whole world around him was full of figures in the shadows silently judging him. His eyes wavered from Demetri and looked to the ground. He felt his hands close tightly into fists and before he knew what he was doing he felt the words come pouring out of him like a busted faucet.
“So what?! What the fuck do you care?! I… I can do what I want! It’s none of your business!” Lorenzo felt himself breathing heavy. He looked up at Demetri again, begging him with his eyes to be okay with this. To pretend nothing was different. He felt himself take a step forward towards his friend. He felt the truth welling up inside him, threatening to explode out if he didn't say it first. Lorenzo felt his voice break as he spoke again.
“Dem, I… I think… no…” He took a deep breath before he continued. “Dem, I’m gay.”
That in particular probably did not score Lorenz high marks with the babes. Well, okay. In terms of the tendency of annoyingly pubescent women on the internet- as if those existed?- to be pointlessly enthralled by men who attended 'in that way' to other men...
He was distracted. First thoughts were all-about, scattering like fish and shit. Demetri guessed that was like, how the books always talked about shock.
Which was the exact sort of thing he was feeling all kinds of harshly right now.
And fuck no, Demetri hadn't consciously intended to glance away or to take a step back, and he sure as hell wasn't going to blame himself for natural instincts in hindsight. However hindsight was going to work in the 'after' part of here and thereafter. In the here part, anyways, Demetri was feeling the hurtling rush of some memories piling through his grey matter at warp speed. Lorenz, chilling out on his bed, headbanging, cracking the most ice-cold beer's worth of jokes.. the hair dye, surviving dinner time with Hannah whenever she bothered to show up, helping Dad packing up the truck. It was. All too fast, all these images of a dude that suddenly had meaning tacked onto them with... what could it even be, white out and post-it notes, mucking up everything because those old ideas of a friend were suddenly touched up, recolored, but did Demetri like the new History Channel feature perspective on his main dude?
... Hell if he knew.
Demetri had only noticed Lorenz got closer because of that step forward suddenly putting a foot straight under his eyes. Demetri hadn't noticed how far down south his chin had drifted. There were all kinds of gnarly patterns worked into the dusty mud of the Tour grounds, generations of footprints.
Shit, he hadn't spoken for ages. Probably just a few seconds, but Demetri knew what he felt.
"... Yeah, I mean."
...
It was a poignant as fuck response, Demetri was feeling every single one of those words, in the form of sting as if he'd actually done the palm to face he'd imagined.
"Dude, yeah. That's cool." Demetri looked up, but kinda at one specific not-particularly-relevant or specific spot on Lorenz's shoulder. His shirt was cool and all, but not that much so... "Nothing wrong with that, man." There really wasn't. Gay people were gay, simply and redundantly put. No need to get up in arms about it, as long as they weren't like... too crazy, or whatever. Man. Demetri didn't know. This shit was sudden, and it was like... he was giggling, suddenly. Little girl giggling, as if he was also about to come out of the closet and start swooning and stroking off to dude chins and pecs. Which obviously, he wasn't going to do. It was just that, well... he guessed he now sort of got a perspective on that whole nervous laughter thing girls supposedly did sometimes. He'd never understood that turn of phrase that much, but maybe now he had the inside track.
"Just know my asshole's off limits, y'know?" Another weak, pathetic little chuckle, as Demetri rubbed a cold-feeling hand at the broadside of his neck.
He was distracted. First thoughts were all-about, scattering like fish and shit. Demetri guessed that was like, how the books always talked about shock.
Which was the exact sort of thing he was feeling all kinds of harshly right now.
And fuck no, Demetri hadn't consciously intended to glance away or to take a step back, and he sure as hell wasn't going to blame himself for natural instincts in hindsight. However hindsight was going to work in the 'after' part of here and thereafter. In the here part, anyways, Demetri was feeling the hurtling rush of some memories piling through his grey matter at warp speed. Lorenz, chilling out on his bed, headbanging, cracking the most ice-cold beer's worth of jokes.. the hair dye, surviving dinner time with Hannah whenever she bothered to show up, helping Dad packing up the truck. It was. All too fast, all these images of a dude that suddenly had meaning tacked onto them with... what could it even be, white out and post-it notes, mucking up everything because those old ideas of a friend were suddenly touched up, recolored, but did Demetri like the new History Channel feature perspective on his main dude?
... Hell if he knew.
Demetri had only noticed Lorenz got closer because of that step forward suddenly putting a foot straight under his eyes. Demetri hadn't noticed how far down south his chin had drifted. There were all kinds of gnarly patterns worked into the dusty mud of the Tour grounds, generations of footprints.
Shit, he hadn't spoken for ages. Probably just a few seconds, but Demetri knew what he felt.
"... Yeah, I mean."
...
It was a poignant as fuck response, Demetri was feeling every single one of those words, in the form of sting as if he'd actually done the palm to face he'd imagined.
"Dude, yeah. That's cool." Demetri looked up, but kinda at one specific not-particularly-relevant or specific spot on Lorenz's shoulder. His shirt was cool and all, but not that much so... "Nothing wrong with that, man." There really wasn't. Gay people were gay, simply and redundantly put. No need to get up in arms about it, as long as they weren't like... too crazy, or whatever. Man. Demetri didn't know. This shit was sudden, and it was like... he was giggling, suddenly. Little girl giggling, as if he was also about to come out of the closet and start swooning and stroking off to dude chins and pecs. Which obviously, he wasn't going to do. It was just that, well... he guessed he now sort of got a perspective on that whole nervous laughter thing girls supposedly did sometimes. He'd never understood that turn of phrase that much, but maybe now he had the inside track.
"Just know my asshole's off limits, y'know?" Another weak, pathetic little chuckle, as Demetri rubbed a cold-feeling hand at the broadside of his neck.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
What had he done?
Lorenzo felt his mouth go bone dry after the words escaped his lips. Why? Why did he say that? Why did he tell him? Lorenzo felt his mind go blank and the world start to move in slow motion. He looked at Demetri as his friend took a step back from him and averted his gaze to the festival ground. Lorenzo couldn’t speak. He just stood there staring at his friend, waiting for him so say something. To say ANYTHING. The longer the silence between them lasted the more Lorenzo could feel his heart threaten to burst from his chest. It felt like the two of them stood there for hours. It had only been perhaps a minute or two, but for Lorenzo that might as well have been his entire life. He felt so exposed, bare to the whole world around him. The noise surrounding the two boys felt muffled now, just white noise in the background of this moment. Lorenzo couldn’t tear his eyes away from Demetri’s face, hoping his confession hadn’t ruined everything. Hoping that his friend could look at him again like he always did before. Suddenly, without looking up from the ground, Demetri’s voice broke the palpable tension between them. It was barely a response. Lorenzo could feel the apprehension in his friends voice as he spoke. Demetri eventually looked up, but he refused to make eye contact. Lorenzo felt a lump in his throat.
Demetri’s voice betrayed his words as he said there was ‘nothing wrong’ with it. Lorenzo felt like he had been punched in the gut. Demetri started to giggle awkwardly. Lorenzo felt his face grow even redder in embarrassment. He was being laughed at. He would rather have the ground open up and swallow him whole that stand here in this situation right now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen today. This was just supposed to be a fun day with his best friend. They were just supposed to listen to some awesome music and but some overpriced merchandise and have an awesome time to remember. This wasn’t a feeling he ever wanted to feel. He wished it would stop. Just stop laughing… please stop it. Lorenzo felt like he couldn't breathe, his breaths coming out ragged and choked. Then at the next sentence from Demetri's mouth, he felt as if his heart had stopped.
"Just know my asshole's off limits, y'know?"
All of a sudden all the embarrassment and fear was quickly replaced with a hot burning anger. THAT’S what you have to say? Is this just a giant joke? This was something very serious and real and not fucking funny at all. This was supposed to be his best friend, someone that he could count on. Someone who he should be able to tell anything to and share anything with. Someone who was supposed to accept him no matter what. And to Demetri, Lorenzo was nothing but a punchline apparently. Lorenzo felt his fists clench and he looked at Demetri with a fire in his eyes.
“Are you fucking serious right now?!” He stepped forward again, moving his face into Demetri’s direct line of sight. “Is this a joke to you or something? That’s all you have to fucking say to me? Are you kidding?” Lorenzo shook his head and folded his arms in front of his chest. He looked down at his shoes and felt himself shake in astonishment and anger. Lorenzo spoke again, his voice wavering, doing his best to keep his cool and not explode.
“You’re supposed to be my friend you dick. What the hell? How can you just stand there and laugh at me?”
Lorenzo felt his mouth go bone dry after the words escaped his lips. Why? Why did he say that? Why did he tell him? Lorenzo felt his mind go blank and the world start to move in slow motion. He looked at Demetri as his friend took a step back from him and averted his gaze to the festival ground. Lorenzo couldn’t speak. He just stood there staring at his friend, waiting for him so say something. To say ANYTHING. The longer the silence between them lasted the more Lorenzo could feel his heart threaten to burst from his chest. It felt like the two of them stood there for hours. It had only been perhaps a minute or two, but for Lorenzo that might as well have been his entire life. He felt so exposed, bare to the whole world around him. The noise surrounding the two boys felt muffled now, just white noise in the background of this moment. Lorenzo couldn’t tear his eyes away from Demetri’s face, hoping his confession hadn’t ruined everything. Hoping that his friend could look at him again like he always did before. Suddenly, without looking up from the ground, Demetri’s voice broke the palpable tension between them. It was barely a response. Lorenzo could feel the apprehension in his friends voice as he spoke. Demetri eventually looked up, but he refused to make eye contact. Lorenzo felt a lump in his throat.
Demetri’s voice betrayed his words as he said there was ‘nothing wrong’ with it. Lorenzo felt like he had been punched in the gut. Demetri started to giggle awkwardly. Lorenzo felt his face grow even redder in embarrassment. He was being laughed at. He would rather have the ground open up and swallow him whole that stand here in this situation right now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen today. This was just supposed to be a fun day with his best friend. They were just supposed to listen to some awesome music and but some overpriced merchandise and have an awesome time to remember. This wasn’t a feeling he ever wanted to feel. He wished it would stop. Just stop laughing… please stop it. Lorenzo felt like he couldn't breathe, his breaths coming out ragged and choked. Then at the next sentence from Demetri's mouth, he felt as if his heart had stopped.
"Just know my asshole's off limits, y'know?"
All of a sudden all the embarrassment and fear was quickly replaced with a hot burning anger. THAT’S what you have to say? Is this just a giant joke? This was something very serious and real and not fucking funny at all. This was supposed to be his best friend, someone that he could count on. Someone who he should be able to tell anything to and share anything with. Someone who was supposed to accept him no matter what. And to Demetri, Lorenzo was nothing but a punchline apparently. Lorenzo felt his fists clench and he looked at Demetri with a fire in his eyes.
“Are you fucking serious right now?!” He stepped forward again, moving his face into Demetri’s direct line of sight. “Is this a joke to you or something? That’s all you have to fucking say to me? Are you kidding?” Lorenzo shook his head and folded his arms in front of his chest. He looked down at his shoes and felt himself shake in astonishment and anger. Lorenzo spoke again, his voice wavering, doing his best to keep his cool and not explode.
“You’re supposed to be my friend you dick. What the hell? How can you just stand there and laugh at me?”
Lorenz kept looking at him, staring with some kinda... soft expression, one Demetri couldn't read because it was too much in the way of dude lips. Well, as if he knew how to read girl's moods. Besides the point.
His friend's face snarled. Shouting looked ugly, and all that arbitrary amount of ugly was right in Demetri's face all of a sudden. Lorenz's fists were clenched, Demetri didn't know how he knew that but somehow things were still happening in the periphery of his vision- probably those two homo dudes were still swapping spit somewhere in another universe.
Demetri took another step back. Didn't even notice he was still weakly breathing out a laugh, even as bloody red washed like a tide over his pale cheeks.
'All he had to say'. Fucking duh it was all Demetri had. How was he supposed to react to this kind of shit? That was the question, right there, along with something like 'what the hell', as in what the hell was Lorenz fucking expecting? Demetri was a good Christian kid, he didn't know shit about this kind of thing. Who expected him to? Who even cared?
"Dude." Demetri forced himself to stand a bit more forward, a bit taller, even as he unconsciously felt a tremble he couldn't identify when he was haunted by visions of fistfights.
This was his best friend.
"I'm not fucking laughing at you man. You just told me you're a cake boy- how the hell else am I supposed to respond?" Demetri smiled, but it felt like a violent one, he didn't know how to call it but it definitely wasn't showing teeth to be any kinda happy. Demetri threw his arms out, gestured hard right and hard left, almost whipped some passing chick on the shoulder.
"Fucking back off, alright? Don't make this a scene."
Were those the words Demetri had been looking for? Maybe. Even he didn't know, Demetri couldn't even recognize that he'd left his conscious brain behind a long moment ago. Take a photo and he wouldn't have been able to pick his freaking-out self out of the crowd.
His friend's face snarled. Shouting looked ugly, and all that arbitrary amount of ugly was right in Demetri's face all of a sudden. Lorenz's fists were clenched, Demetri didn't know how he knew that but somehow things were still happening in the periphery of his vision- probably those two homo dudes were still swapping spit somewhere in another universe.
Demetri took another step back. Didn't even notice he was still weakly breathing out a laugh, even as bloody red washed like a tide over his pale cheeks.
'All he had to say'. Fucking duh it was all Demetri had. How was he supposed to react to this kind of shit? That was the question, right there, along with something like 'what the hell', as in what the hell was Lorenz fucking expecting? Demetri was a good Christian kid, he didn't know shit about this kind of thing. Who expected him to? Who even cared?
"Dude." Demetri forced himself to stand a bit more forward, a bit taller, even as he unconsciously felt a tremble he couldn't identify when he was haunted by visions of fistfights.
This was his best friend.
"I'm not fucking laughing at you man. You just told me you're a cake boy- how the hell else am I supposed to respond?" Demetri smiled, but it felt like a violent one, he didn't know how to call it but it definitely wasn't showing teeth to be any kinda happy. Demetri threw his arms out, gestured hard right and hard left, almost whipped some passing chick on the shoulder.
"Fucking back off, alright? Don't make this a scene."
Were those the words Demetri had been looking for? Maybe. Even he didn't know, Demetri couldn't even recognize that he'd left his conscious brain behind a long moment ago. Take a photo and he wouldn't have been able to pick his freaking-out self out of the crowd.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Why was this going so wrong?
Demetri’s words were like a slap in the face. Lorenzo doubled over a bit, almost as if he was punched in the gut. He felt the bitter tears start to build up behind his eyes but willed them from falling as he tried to comprehend the situation. How was he supposed to respond? Lorenzo didn't have the answer to that question. He didn’t know how he expected Demetri to feel after his confession, but it sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be like this. They weren’t supposed to be here, in a crowd of people, at the biggest music festival of the year, screaming at each other in front of a shitty merchandise tent. Lorenzo wasn’t supposed to feel like he’d fucked up the best friendship he’d ever had just by telling the truth. Demetri wasn’t supposed to be looking at him with that terrible look in his eyes, or talking to him with that absolute venom in his words. Lorenzo didn’t really know how it was SUPPOSED to go. But…
"Fucking back off, alright? Don't make this a scene."
Before he even knew what he was doing, Lorenzo felt himself moving forward towards Demetri. Before he could stop himself he felt his fist clench tightly and his arm pull back as his vision clouded with tears. Even if he wanted to, and that was up for debate, he couldn’t stop his body from doing the only thing it could think of to defend itself from the swirling mess of emotions and memories that were currently running like a montage through his head. This was his best friend. WAS. Lorenzo put as much force as he could muster behind his attack as he stepped forwards and swung at the other boy’s jaw with his right fist.
“Shut the fuck up!” He heard his voice crack as he screamed at the boy. He could barely control the tears freely running down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if they were from sadness, from frustration, or maybe a whole mess of other emotions he couldn't even comprehend at that exact moment. All he knew was that the boy in front of him was his best friend in the world less than 20 minutes ago, and now all he wanted to do was make him feel as badly as he did in that moment.
Demetri’s words were like a slap in the face. Lorenzo doubled over a bit, almost as if he was punched in the gut. He felt the bitter tears start to build up behind his eyes but willed them from falling as he tried to comprehend the situation. How was he supposed to respond? Lorenzo didn't have the answer to that question. He didn’t know how he expected Demetri to feel after his confession, but it sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be like this. They weren’t supposed to be here, in a crowd of people, at the biggest music festival of the year, screaming at each other in front of a shitty merchandise tent. Lorenzo wasn’t supposed to feel like he’d fucked up the best friendship he’d ever had just by telling the truth. Demetri wasn’t supposed to be looking at him with that terrible look in his eyes, or talking to him with that absolute venom in his words. Lorenzo didn’t really know how it was SUPPOSED to go. But…
"Fucking back off, alright? Don't make this a scene."
Before he even knew what he was doing, Lorenzo felt himself moving forward towards Demetri. Before he could stop himself he felt his fist clench tightly and his arm pull back as his vision clouded with tears. Even if he wanted to, and that was up for debate, he couldn’t stop his body from doing the only thing it could think of to defend itself from the swirling mess of emotions and memories that were currently running like a montage through his head. This was his best friend. WAS. Lorenzo put as much force as he could muster behind his attack as he stepped forwards and swung at the other boy’s jaw with his right fist.
“Shut the fuck up!” He heard his voice crack as he screamed at the boy. He could barely control the tears freely running down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if they were from sadness, from frustration, or maybe a whole mess of other emotions he couldn't even comprehend at that exact moment. All he knew was that the boy in front of him was his best friend in the world less than 20 minutes ago, and now all he wanted to do was make him feel as badly as he did in that moment.
'Back off'.
Demetri's intended words, maybe angry, maybe repetitive. He struggled with them, and choked on them, and didn't get them out in time. He heard the dull echo of his jaw bone bounce once through his own skull and just before the sharper snap whipped air against his eardrums. Then, he fell, then. He felt pain.
It was like his bones had been mashed up into the meat of his lips, or like his teeth were popped right out of place, fucking- no, he didn't know, he couldn't explain-...
Mud plastered over one arm. Also, his knee bent at an angle he was sure wasn't the right one. And then, the heat on his face. Sweat burning trails down his forehead sideways like violent rain.
No noise. Maybe he was deaf, maybe the crowd had shut up too late for him to pretend he still had his pride.
"F-fuck...!" Demetri's voice warbled as it came out. He'd never sounded too old, yeah, he'd always been pretty bummed about that. About how he always spoke on prepubescent helium and marked himself as unmanly beta Numero Uno. Well he certainly didn't sound any different here, or now. Probably sounded even more pathetic than.
He tried to force the tears back up their ducts, didn't do too much, maybe he dried up the sudden wetness a little. Little chokes, baby bird frail, he tried to find the spot where his hands could help him off the ground. Grabbed for anything, found only more barbs of grass, licks of slippery mud.
"S-sorry... I- g- gotcha, I'm..." Demetri gulped down something, more air for his frail lungs, more tears off his spoiled face. He tried to pull a veil over any part of his own humiliation, couldn't, his bangs were too peeled away and showed off everything. Showed off his eyes, scanning the crowd with a meek surrender. Trembling. Looking for mercy, yeah, but not for repentance. He saw his friend.
"S-sorry... dude- I-... didn't- mean..." His eyes weak, wild, caged fear, caged resentment.
Demetri's intended words, maybe angry, maybe repetitive. He struggled with them, and choked on them, and didn't get them out in time. He heard the dull echo of his jaw bone bounce once through his own skull and just before the sharper snap whipped air against his eardrums. Then, he fell, then. He felt pain.
It was like his bones had been mashed up into the meat of his lips, or like his teeth were popped right out of place, fucking- no, he didn't know, he couldn't explain-...
Mud plastered over one arm. Also, his knee bent at an angle he was sure wasn't the right one. And then, the heat on his face. Sweat burning trails down his forehead sideways like violent rain.
No noise. Maybe he was deaf, maybe the crowd had shut up too late for him to pretend he still had his pride.
"F-fuck...!" Demetri's voice warbled as it came out. He'd never sounded too old, yeah, he'd always been pretty bummed about that. About how he always spoke on prepubescent helium and marked himself as unmanly beta Numero Uno. Well he certainly didn't sound any different here, or now. Probably sounded even more pathetic than.
He tried to force the tears back up their ducts, didn't do too much, maybe he dried up the sudden wetness a little. Little chokes, baby bird frail, he tried to find the spot where his hands could help him off the ground. Grabbed for anything, found only more barbs of grass, licks of slippery mud.
"S-sorry... I- g- gotcha, I'm..." Demetri gulped down something, more air for his frail lungs, more tears off his spoiled face. He tried to pull a veil over any part of his own humiliation, couldn't, his bangs were too peeled away and showed off everything. Showed off his eyes, scanning the crowd with a meek surrender. Trembling. Looking for mercy, yeah, but not for repentance. He saw his friend.
"S-sorry... dude- I-... didn't- mean..." His eyes weak, wild, caged fear, caged resentment.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Everything was moving in slow motion.
Lorenzo felt his fist connect with Demetri’s face and as he watched his friend fall backwards he felt a pang of guilt and sorrow wash over him. In an instant Lorenzo gone from frustrated and angry, to looking down on his friend with a horrified expression on his face. He looked down at his own hand, still balled up into the fist that he’d used to attack his friend. Lorenzo felt his breaths start coming quicker than before, and it felt as if his heart was beating so fast it would explode. His arms started to tremble, and his eyes started to dart around his surroundings. Some people around them were staring now, watching like spectators on the sideline of a game. The tears were still coming full force, he couldn’t stop them if he’d tried. His eyes finally set on Demetri, crumpled on the ground. Their eyes locked and Lorenzo felt the wind get knocked out of him. Those were eyes he never wanted to see from his friend. Lorenzo tried to speak but found his mouth had gone completely dry. He couldn’t bring himself to say a word as Demetri sputtered out weak apologies below him. Lorenzo felt his legs start to buckle, and fell back into a seated position, arms bracing his fall behind him.
The music and crowd continued to blare around them, but Lorenzo couldn’t hear anything. Not really. He sat across from his best friend on the dirty festival ground in silence, fearing that if he spoke it would mean the end of everything. It would make what just happened real. Somewhere inside his mind he knew they could never go back after this. He knew that this was the breaking point. He just didn't want to accept it, not yet. He started to feel sick, like his stomach was twisting into all sorts of shapes in an effort to expel itself from his body. Lorenzo stared at Demetri, trying to find a glimmer of hope in the other boy’s eyes that this would blow over. That this was still fine. No such luck. The only thing he could see in those eyes was fear and hate. There was nothing remaining to set his mind at ease. Tears still cascading down his cheeks, eyes wide in horrified silence, he willed himself to say something, anything to Demetri.
“Dem… I…” But he couldn’t get the words out. Instead he just buried his face in his left hand and sobbed quietly to himself. There was no more fight left in him. He just wanted to run away.
Lorenzo felt his fist connect with Demetri’s face and as he watched his friend fall backwards he felt a pang of guilt and sorrow wash over him. In an instant Lorenzo gone from frustrated and angry, to looking down on his friend with a horrified expression on his face. He looked down at his own hand, still balled up into the fist that he’d used to attack his friend. Lorenzo felt his breaths start coming quicker than before, and it felt as if his heart was beating so fast it would explode. His arms started to tremble, and his eyes started to dart around his surroundings. Some people around them were staring now, watching like spectators on the sideline of a game. The tears were still coming full force, he couldn’t stop them if he’d tried. His eyes finally set on Demetri, crumpled on the ground. Their eyes locked and Lorenzo felt the wind get knocked out of him. Those were eyes he never wanted to see from his friend. Lorenzo tried to speak but found his mouth had gone completely dry. He couldn’t bring himself to say a word as Demetri sputtered out weak apologies below him. Lorenzo felt his legs start to buckle, and fell back into a seated position, arms bracing his fall behind him.
The music and crowd continued to blare around them, but Lorenzo couldn’t hear anything. Not really. He sat across from his best friend on the dirty festival ground in silence, fearing that if he spoke it would mean the end of everything. It would make what just happened real. Somewhere inside his mind he knew they could never go back after this. He knew that this was the breaking point. He just didn't want to accept it, not yet. He started to feel sick, like his stomach was twisting into all sorts of shapes in an effort to expel itself from his body. Lorenzo stared at Demetri, trying to find a glimmer of hope in the other boy’s eyes that this would blow over. That this was still fine. No such luck. The only thing he could see in those eyes was fear and hate. There was nothing remaining to set his mind at ease. Tears still cascading down his cheeks, eyes wide in horrified silence, he willed himself to say something, anything to Demetri.
“Dem… I…” But he couldn’t get the words out. Instead he just buried his face in his left hand and sobbed quietly to himself. There was no more fight left in him. He just wanted to run away.
Demetri looked away. His eyes didn't obey instructions, because he wasn't any kind of coward, not able to meet his fag friend's eye...
He stared at Earth.
"It's fine..." Mumbling, he wasn't sure if he was loud because he couldn't hear himself. Maybe the echo in his own ears was too loud. His own hollow head. He counted particles of dust clinging to the clay-choked soil. "It's... whatever- ngh.. man. Just whatev..hh..." He touched a palm to his face. But fuck that, he didn't want to look weak. He wasn't Demetri Futscher, licking his wounds, averting his eyes.
He was, however, Demetri Futscher, yanking his hand off his cheeks so fast, so eager to merely pantomime a brusque, masculine gesture, that he peeled a certain rawness onto his openly exposed skin. The drag was harsh, such that his spent sobbing shone a snail's trail over the corners of his lips. Ugly face.
He told himself, deep in the stunned silence that turned his brain into cave, that he was fine. Lorenzo was a violent degenerate, whatever, it wasn't Demetri's fault... Demetri could face him, eye-to-eye, man to man. Continue it, end it, whatever. But the important bit was he say something. Demetri knew he wasn't any sort of loser who'd leave without the resolution, without the closure. No, he was fucking better than that. He was going to tell Lorenzo to his face... a final curse, a begging apology, Demetri didn't know. He couldn't sort through the emotion. It was alien, it was left of where he was standing, in some unknown place he couldn't reach. He felt like a dumbass. He felt like a loser. He felt betrayed, humiliated. He felt, in brief, that he'd lost his best friend and that he hated his best friend for that.
He didn't know any of those things for sure. He had to say something though. Only a coward walked away. Demetri's eyes slowly scanned, once more, tremors of his still weak fear dancing the flabby pupils of his iris every which way...
He didn't notice Lorenzo, not in the crowd he backed off into with a quick step. He mumbled an 'excuse me' to the lady in his way. He was gone.
He stared at Earth.
"It's fine..." Mumbling, he wasn't sure if he was loud because he couldn't hear himself. Maybe the echo in his own ears was too loud. His own hollow head. He counted particles of dust clinging to the clay-choked soil. "It's... whatever- ngh.. man. Just whatev..hh..." He touched a palm to his face. But fuck that, he didn't want to look weak. He wasn't Demetri Futscher, licking his wounds, averting his eyes.
He was, however, Demetri Futscher, yanking his hand off his cheeks so fast, so eager to merely pantomime a brusque, masculine gesture, that he peeled a certain rawness onto his openly exposed skin. The drag was harsh, such that his spent sobbing shone a snail's trail over the corners of his lips. Ugly face.
He told himself, deep in the stunned silence that turned his brain into cave, that he was fine. Lorenzo was a violent degenerate, whatever, it wasn't Demetri's fault... Demetri could face him, eye-to-eye, man to man. Continue it, end it, whatever. But the important bit was he say something. Demetri knew he wasn't any sort of loser who'd leave without the resolution, without the closure. No, he was fucking better than that. He was going to tell Lorenzo to his face... a final curse, a begging apology, Demetri didn't know. He couldn't sort through the emotion. It was alien, it was left of where he was standing, in some unknown place he couldn't reach. He felt like a dumbass. He felt like a loser. He felt betrayed, humiliated. He felt, in brief, that he'd lost his best friend and that he hated his best friend for that.
He didn't know any of those things for sure. He had to say something though. Only a coward walked away. Demetri's eyes slowly scanned, once more, tremors of his still weak fear dancing the flabby pupils of his iris every which way...
He didn't notice Lorenzo, not in the crowd he backed off into with a quick step. He mumbled an 'excuse me' to the lady in his way. He was gone.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Lorenzo didn’t even register that he was now alone sitting on the ground. He never saw Demetri get up and wander off. Inside he felt his emotions gnawing at the inside of his chest, threatening to burst out at any moment and lay themselves bare for the whole world to see. He tried his best to quiet his sniffling and to dry his eyes with the back of his hand. His head was spinning. Slowly, Lorenzo pushed himself off of the ground and to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, and he wasn’t sure if he could even hold himself up. He frantically looked at the crowd around him, hoping that none of them had seen the dramatic event that had just transpired. None of the other festival-goers even gave him a second look as they briskly went on with their lives, seemingly oblivious to Lorenzo’s display of weakness and hurt. It was then that Lorenzo realized that his best friend was no longer there. It dawned on the boy that he was now completely alone in this crowd of strangers, and the thought sent a shiver down his spine. With another sniffle he quickly wiped the sweat and tears off of his face with the bottom of his shirt and began to wander away from the area.
Pushing his way through the crowd seemed much more difficult than earlier. He started to take notice of the fact that all these people seemed to tower over his middle-schooler’s body. They were all grown adults for the most part, and he was just some little kid all alone among them. Lorenzo wrapped his arms around himself and trudged through the crowd with his head down. When the crowd finally broke, he found himself in the concession area again. Lorenzo didn’t really know where to go from here. Honestly, he didn't feel like going to the stage area at all. He wasn’t in the right head-space for that right now. Plus, what was the point in going by himself? That’s not what he came here for.
Lorenzo started to walk towards the entrance of the festival. He just wanted to go home at this point. Of course that was way easier said than done. Home wasn’t exactly around the corner. He felt his eyes start to water again but he wiped them away before they could fall. He didn't want people looking at him because he was crying like a baby. He scanned the area and looked for a place he could sit down and still see the security area. He’d just have to wait for Demetri’s dad to take him back home. He shuddered at the thought. That meant he’d have to face Demetri again. He felt a pain in his chest that accompanied that thought. What did Demetri even think about him at this point? He probably hated him. He… he punched him. Who does that? What kind of animal was he? Lorenzo sat down on the ground with his back against the fencing surrounding the festival. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head atop. He’d have to call his dad at some point. Let him know he had to come back home. There was no way he was going to stay anywhere near Demetri after this. How could he? He’d ruined everything.
“Fuck… I’m such an ass” He whispered to himself as he buried his head in his knees even further. All he could do now was wait for the inevitable.
Pushing his way through the crowd seemed much more difficult than earlier. He started to take notice of the fact that all these people seemed to tower over his middle-schooler’s body. They were all grown adults for the most part, and he was just some little kid all alone among them. Lorenzo wrapped his arms around himself and trudged through the crowd with his head down. When the crowd finally broke, he found himself in the concession area again. Lorenzo didn’t really know where to go from here. Honestly, he didn't feel like going to the stage area at all. He wasn’t in the right head-space for that right now. Plus, what was the point in going by himself? That’s not what he came here for.
Lorenzo started to walk towards the entrance of the festival. He just wanted to go home at this point. Of course that was way easier said than done. Home wasn’t exactly around the corner. He felt his eyes start to water again but he wiped them away before they could fall. He didn't want people looking at him because he was crying like a baby. He scanned the area and looked for a place he could sit down and still see the security area. He’d just have to wait for Demetri’s dad to take him back home. He shuddered at the thought. That meant he’d have to face Demetri again. He felt a pain in his chest that accompanied that thought. What did Demetri even think about him at this point? He probably hated him. He… he punched him. Who does that? What kind of animal was he? Lorenzo sat down on the ground with his back against the fencing surrounding the festival. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head atop. He’d have to call his dad at some point. Let him know he had to come back home. There was no way he was going to stay anywhere near Demetri after this. How could he? He’d ruined everything.
“Fuck… I’m such an ass” He whispered to himself as he buried his head in his knees even further. All he could do now was wait for the inevitable.
The crowd bustled.
In the distance drums roared up an earthquake and the screams of a crowd crackled like sharp fingers of thunder, and storm clouds gathered on the horizon over the whisper of 'these colors will not change'. The microphoned croon of 'these words will fade'.
Demetri and Lorenzo were long gone.
-----
A Ford Transit cleared the desolate 85 at a speed that whipped the shadows of trees into a blur. Panels on either side painted in a rusty neon that claimed the savings and values offered by Futscher and Williams Plumbers.
Ten feet out from the car either side the ink of the forest menaced, the scene of many an unsolved murder and mystery in the fertile mind of a quivering child. Demetri watched the scene as it bled past.
He saw nothing but vague, meaningless shapes.
His already awkwardly lanky body was curled up in the passenger seat. Knotted up locks of his pale hair cascaded onto the not-so-cozy hard upholstery just under the lip of his rolled-up window. His long, bony neck compressed into a tense hump as he looked down at his own chest, where his seat belt neatly cut his shirt and chest in two, right between his pasty girl boobs.
Carl Futscher droned on pleasantly enough, about bands and shows and crowds and girls. He asked the boys to not mention the scantly clad women to Mrs. Fustcher. Demetri murmured assent. He asked about Hawthorne Heights. Demetri murmured whatever.
Carl spoke loud enough for the whole car to hear, blithe, unaware as he focused his caffeine-trembling hands onto the few hours remaining between them and Chattanooga. Right under the skin of his voice and vocal cords a CD playing back tape hiss from the Dead Kennedys warbled on softly.
Carl kept speaking. Demetri kept listening. Silent.
Demetri wouldn't speak until he got back home. And he wouldn't ever look back.
Much as he wanted to, at times. Tempted by fear, by disgust. Tempted, quieter still, by hope. He never quite resolved any of those emotions. As much as he also never looked back.
((Demetri Futscher continued in Blaise))
In the distance drums roared up an earthquake and the screams of a crowd crackled like sharp fingers of thunder, and storm clouds gathered on the horizon over the whisper of 'these colors will not change'. The microphoned croon of 'these words will fade'.
Demetri and Lorenzo were long gone.
-----
A Ford Transit cleared the desolate 85 at a speed that whipped the shadows of trees into a blur. Panels on either side painted in a rusty neon that claimed the savings and values offered by Futscher and Williams Plumbers.
Ten feet out from the car either side the ink of the forest menaced, the scene of many an unsolved murder and mystery in the fertile mind of a quivering child. Demetri watched the scene as it bled past.
He saw nothing but vague, meaningless shapes.
His already awkwardly lanky body was curled up in the passenger seat. Knotted up locks of his pale hair cascaded onto the not-so-cozy hard upholstery just under the lip of his rolled-up window. His long, bony neck compressed into a tense hump as he looked down at his own chest, where his seat belt neatly cut his shirt and chest in two, right between his pasty girl boobs.
Carl Futscher droned on pleasantly enough, about bands and shows and crowds and girls. He asked the boys to not mention the scantly clad women to Mrs. Fustcher. Demetri murmured assent. He asked about Hawthorne Heights. Demetri murmured whatever.
Carl spoke loud enough for the whole car to hear, blithe, unaware as he focused his caffeine-trembling hands onto the few hours remaining between them and Chattanooga. Right under the skin of his voice and vocal cords a CD playing back tape hiss from the Dead Kennedys warbled on softly.
Carl kept speaking. Demetri kept listening. Silent.
Demetri wouldn't speak until he got back home. And he wouldn't ever look back.
Much as he wanted to, at times. Tempted by fear, by disgust. Tempted, quieter still, by hope. He never quite resolved any of those emotions. As much as he also never looked back.
((Demetri Futscher continued in Blaise))
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes: