Hunting the Fairy Tale

Chapter 30 - On Haunted Hill

TW:- References to violence and abuse.

Tanner

"So, Boyo, it's just the two of us now. Wanna tell me what happened to ye? Ye look like yer choking on yer liver."

I give Galen a look: "How is that even physically possible?"

We left the others at the restaurant and made our way on foot up to Haunted Hill, expertly ignoring Dex's concern.

No, there are no ghosts up here. The hill got its name because of reports of weird sounds carried down by the wind from here. The bulk of those sounds are produced by couples using it as a hook-up spot. I'm up here with Galen, but the only hooking up we're doing is with some beers and a packet of weed.

I don't normally like the stuff much. The pot, I mean. I like the beer. But tonight, I just want to get out of my headspace. Hanging out with the guys helped a lot, but too many memories I still cannot deal with have been stirred up like sediment at the bottom of clear water. Everything is murky now, and I don't know how to get it to settle back to the bottom. Out of sight, out of mind.

I need to be unconscious.

I'm not sure what's eating Galen. I could see during dinner that he was feeling as crappy as I was. As the evening grew darker and the night started to creep in, the feelings just got worse, as it always does. Finally, neither of us was okay anymore, and we decided to come up here.

It is disturbingly easy for guys like us to score weed in Briar Cove. The place doesn't generally have much of a drug problem, but we know where to go looking. The town, small as it is, has its dark underbelly like any other town. Getting beer is not a problem. Galen is already 18 and can buy it legally if we can find an open liquor store.

We always know where to find one.

The weed is loosening my tongue, and I'm talking before I've even decided to do so.

"I found out today... that when a gay guy grabs your junk, and you punch him in the face... mostly out of reflex, you're a homophobe." That came out easily enough, but now I'm feeling a little sick again.

It's safe to tell Galen these things. He'll rage with me, get drunk with me, get high with me. If I really want to storm over to the studio, kill my agent and wreck the place, he'll happily do that with me too, but he won't go all vigilante on me.

If I told Hunter what happened today during the photo shoot, he'd lose his friggin' mind and go do all of those things without my consent or cooperation. The killing and wrecking part, I mean.

Jake is more subtle; he'll probably just build a bomb from common household supplies and mail it to the guy. Ash would kick ass and get arrested for attempted murder unless someone actually dies...

I cannot even begin to think about Paisley's revenge; her imagination can be pretty warped, and if she's angry, there's no telling what she'd do. She scares the crap out of me when she's really angry. She's about 1.59 meters tall and weighs less than some of my organs, but that doesn't stop her from being fiercely protective of me. Of all of us.

I cannot tell any of them, but I can tell Galen. Besides, I'm not all that sober anymore, so the words don't stick; they actually make their way out of my mouth. I didn't even know I was going to say that.

"That is effed up! Ye should quit that job, seriously, ye should," is Galen's sage advice. "Wait, maybe ye're fired now."

"No, Mason called me earlier. He said I didn't break the one model's nose, and the other one's shoulder is going to be fine. I didn't completely dislocate it... only slightly."