The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The End ~ Part 3

I'm not really in the mood to joke about how quiet the ride back home is. You can add your own funny spin on things, if you like. Would be very disrespectful, but you can.

I don't even register the landscape outside. We can be in a black void as far as I care. The only thing I'm focused on is Hayden's reflection in the passenger's window. Brayden and Okayden serve once again as the meat and veggies of this shit sandwich. Feels like if mommy and daddy are fighting, I guess. I don't remember my mother after all, unlike Hayden.

I can't even compare the two feelings. For me, my mother is a nostalgic smell. A memory of a memory of a feeling deep inside, and even that, I think, is merely my brain playing tricks on me. But Hayden, who was conscious enough to pursue a passion? The memory of his mother must still be raw. I wonder if that's why he drives this truck? Something strong and sturdy that wouldn't kill him if something were to hit him.

Does he feel guilty about his mother's death? How can I call myself his boyfriend if I didn't know something as basic as that? I also didn't know about his living circumstances, or about his father's abuse. If you think about it, I know Hayden, but I don't know much about Hayden. We kinda jumped in this relationship thing feet first.

Not like I've told him much about my past, either. I've actively avoided it. Maybe he thought of that as well. Didn't want to overwhelm me with some perceived baggage. To him, it might be a defense mechanism, but I see it as him not trusting in me, his boyfriend, enough.

Heh, ironic, given that I do the same. Maybe we don't trust each other enough.

Maybe being a couple so fast was a mistake.

Don't get me wrong, I love him to death, past or no past, and I'm fairly certain he does too. But now there's a huge divide between us, and I'm not talking about Brayden and Okayden. Something broke today, and I'm not sure how to repair it.

Being in love is so complicated.

It doesn't take us long—or an eternity, I don't know, I'm not paying attention—for us to reach Brayden's state.

"oh, thank blackpink, i can leave this hot mess," says Brayden, practically jumping over my lap to leave the truck. "i hate when mom and dad fight."

"Brother, may I ask,

If I can crash here tonight,

I... don't wanna be here."

"sure, i'll make it asleep over."

Okayden jumps out of the truck, gives us a salute, and skidaddles with Brayden out of there, leavin us two alone. Even with the wide space between us wide open, I don't feel like scooting close to him.

As the dick-mobile resumes its slow march, I struggle to find words to say. It's obvious we need to talk about what happened, but where to start? A sorry for outing him to his father? An admonition for giving up on his dream? Both? Neither? I feel like walking on eggshells. What now?

Actually, I think that's the best question I can ask.

"What now?" I ask, my breath fogging the passenger window.

I can hear Hayden take a deep breath. I steal a glance towards him. His knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. "Now? I'll stay low, maybe crash on Brayden's couch for a few days, let father cool off. He'll not remember anything about today in a few days."

"Not about that," I say, although I'm glad he has somewhere to go. "About us. What now?"

"What do you mean, what now? Nothing will change."

"Hayden, everything has changed. There is no club anymore, you're returning to the football club, I outed you to your family, and everything's gone to shit. You can't see me straight in the face and tell me nothing will change."