The Boys in the Sleeping City

70 9 11
                                    

CW: blood, death

***

"That's the thing about this city," Hendrix said, "it always sleeps."

He tapped his cigarette before bringing it to his lips as he stared out at the empty streets. Gavin sat next to him, his knees pulled up to his chest as he tried to breath through Hendrix's cigarette smoke. He should've been used to it by now; Hendrix was always smoking, but the sour stench was always too strong for Gavin to ignore it.

"I thought the saying was the city never sleeps?" Gavin asked.

"It is," Hendrix nodded. "But not for this hellhole of a town. I mean, look. It's empty. Dead."

Hendrix was right. As the two boys sat on the rooftop of their apartment, they couldn't see anyone. Only the streetlights made the city look somewhat alive, but there were no cars, no people, no open stores. Only the bar in the corner, who's faded music was merely an echo from the rooftop, was somewhat alive in the city.

"Maybe once we graduate college, we could move somewhere," Gavin said. "Somewhere bigger. Somewhere busy."

"You think I'm graduating?" Hendrix laughed as he puffed out a circle of smoke. "You put a lot of faith into someone who never even attends class."

"Well," Gavin began, "isn't that why I'm here? I help with your homework in exchange for—"

"In exchange for a friend," Hendrix blurted. "A roommate. Yeah, I know. Kind of sad when you think about it."

Gavin shrugged. "I have a hard time making friends."

Gavin felt Hendrix's eyes lay on him. He avoided eye contact and hugged himself tighter, wanting to sink into his oversized sweater and hide. But Hendrix only chuckled and patted Gavin's head, ruffling his hair.

"You're a likable person, Gav. I mean, look at you. Small, nervous, a little bit of a nerd, but you're so damn kind. To anyone. And I mean anyone. Even someone like me."

Gavin looked at Hendrix. It was true. Hendrix wasn't exactly the kind of person Gavin would normally gravitate to. Hendrix was rough; he was covered in tattoos, ones with skulls and monsters and women, and his ears were full of piercings. He was always wearing rings and bracelets, and he never went anywhere without a cigarette and lighter. His unkempt black hair was always hidden underneath a beanie, and his dark eyes constantly held bags under them.

Gavin liked to think he kept himself together, besides the fact that he was probably too small. He couldn't help that, though. He hid himself in sweaters and oversized shirts. His blonde hair was always styled, and he wore fake glasses with large rims to hide his face.

The two boys were opposites. But maybe that's what made their little alliance work.

"I should get some sleep," Gavin said as he stretched out his legs. "Class tomorrow."

"And that's why you didn't know this city always slept," Hendrix mumbled, "because you're sleeping too."

"But it's getting late."

"Gavin," Hendrix dropped his cigarette and stomped his boot on it a couple times. "Class isn't the most important thing in this life."

"Yeah, but—"

"Live a little, yeah? Take a walk in the city. Go on a late night road trip. Do something crazy."

Gavin shrugged as Hendrix stood up and reached out his hand. He took it and let the taller boy pull him to his feet.

The Boys in the Sleeping City Where stories live. Discover now