Misguided Ghost (boyxboy)

Uncertainty

Ralph was angry.

Oh, he was angry, all right.

So angry that he was crying—feeling all the emotions bursting out of him from when he left America. It felt stupid. He left to have time for himself to heal, yet here he was crying over a man who said those three stupid words.

It was chaotic—his feelings. He was feeling anxious, scared, but hopeful.

One minute, he was asking himself; does he really miss me?

And the next minute, he was saying to himself; how dare he say that? Does he think he can win me back?

He didn't quite know what to feel—how to feel, after that phone call. He was sure of one thing, though that was for sure. He did miss Kyle.

His angelic voice.

His cute smile that brightened his days.

He missed the feeling of his muscular arms hugging him from the back.

He missed everything about Kyle.

"Get a fucking hold of yourself, Ralph," he told himself as he paced back and forth from the carpeted living room of his hotel room. He threw his phone from his hand to the black, leathered couch when he realized he was still clinging to it.

He hastily wiped his tears and took a deep breath. "I just need to go out. Find some entertainment to enjoy," he said as calmly as he could, his voice shaky and weak.

"But first, sleep will do for now,"

Later that night, he woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring throughout the room. The double bed creaked slightly when he reached over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and to turn off the alarm.

He rubbed his face with one hand, while the other hand opened his phone to check what time it was. When the light of his phone glared at him, he squinted and groaned, his eyes slowly blinking and getting used to the light as the time read, 7:49 p.m.

Perfect time for dinner, he thought as he threw the covers, got up, and yawned as he stretched his limbs.

He felt a little better, now that he had some sleep in him. He felt even better when he took a shower. He felt refreshed—rejuvenated.

Finally, a good way to start the evening.

He sighed in a happy tone as he walked towards the bathroom to take a shower, humming the new Demi Lovato song that came out a few days ago. "I'm a ten out of ten even when I forget," he sang, bopping his head to his horrible singing voice.

After taking a shower, he went to eat outside. He didn't want to waste the opportunity to roam the current city he was in for the moment. It was a cool, chilly night for a summer day. Stars were lighting up the dark skies loomed over the people as they stroll by.

He bumped into people and apologized quietly as he walked around the area. When he finally settled for the place he wanted to eat, he chose to sit at the table outside. He wanted to observe how the people and this city worked.

If he was going to stay awhile, then he might as well learn a few things from here and there.

"Thanks," he said gratefully to the waiter when he ordered his food, sneaking a glance at the man's butt as he walked away.

He bit his lower lip in awe. Damn, he's got some fine ass, he thought.

He looked around and observed the city.

From his perspective, the best he could describe the city was that it was urban. Unmodern architectural buildings surrounded him—some of them looked like they needed an immediate repair.

Sure, he loved cities. But, nothing beats the freshness of urban air.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

A loud ringing sound snapped him out of his thoughts. He quickly apologized to the people who turned around, and he frowned at his phone, snatched it out of its place, and answered it when he saw it was his mom.

"Mom. Hi," he greeted, feeling out of breath. "Listen—"

"Took you almost two months to answer your phone, Raffy?"

He paused on what he was about to say when he heard the voice on the other line.

It wasn't his mom.

"Dude, everyone is fucking worried about you,"

"I'm doing fine. Thanks for asking, Angie,"

"Are you?"

Was he?