Tasteful

Chapter one: Bar Tastes

Tasteful

　

Chapter One: Bar Tastes

Bitter. Sour. Blech.

Taylor Moore felt like spitting but he doubted it would help any. Actually, he knew it wouldn’t, but he was optimistic. The beer tasted bitter, like anger and jealousy. Why did all the bars have to be filled with yahoos who were here because they were either sick of their ‘cheating girlfriends’ or were here to cheat on said girlfriends and got angry at other people because of it? Sometimes, Taylor was sure he would never completely understand what was happening with humanity. Maybe that was for the best. Besides, it wasn’t like he fit in here anyway, right? His taste buds were in overdrive and if that didn’t spell freak with a capital ‘F’, he wasn’t sure what did.

He nearly threw up when he took another sip of his beer. There were so many conflicting emotions in this bar he couldn’t quite pinpoint an exact taste. A moment ago it had been bitter; now it was sweet as hell, like he was drinking honey on steroids. Grimacing, his golden eyes flickered toward the person sitting next to him on a bar stool, looking so very nonchalant it was hard for Taylor to convince himself he was even alive.

“When can we go?” he asked, scowling as he ran his tongue across his teeth, trying to wipe the lingering taste away.

The person looked at him and snorted, taking a long chug of beer. Taylor wondered how he could drink it without vomiting all over himself. “When the bar closes. I’m sick of working.”

“Aren’t we all?” Taylor countered, slumping in his stool. “This place tastes horrible, Lo.”

Lo. Logan Talbot was Taylor’s best friend and closest companion. He trusted Lo with his life, absolutely and completely, even though the two had only known each other for about a year now. “We’ll leave in ten minutes, you big tasteful baby.”

Taylor scowled. “Whatever, dog-boy.”

Lo sent him a glare which just caused him to shrug. Lo had started it. And it was the truth, right? Lo was a dog-boy. Somehow, even though Taylor didn’t understand the genetics of it or anything like that, Lo had dog DNA in him. He could smell like a dog, hear like one, and even turn into one if he so desired. Sometimes it made Taylor jealous, because he could turn into something cool. Taylor would kill to be able to become a dog and escape whatever it was that was wrong with him. There wasn’t a name for it, but some had started calling it the ‘Taylor’, using his namesake.

Joy. Because when he’d said he would leave a mark on society one day, he had definitely meant this. Could anyone hear his sarcasm?

No, what Taylor had wasn’t named and probably never would be, because he was the first. He wasn’t sure what they had done to him, what they had injected him with and fed him, but it wasn’t good. It had been horrible, tasteless, and had managed to nearly wipe out his taste buds at the time, which he would kill for now. Now he tasted too damn much, like his mouth was in overload, and all he could taste were emotions.

Yeah, that was right. Emotions. Feelings.

Those things humanity was supposed to have. Well, most did. It was those who didn’t that Taylor both loved and hated simultaneously. He loved them because then he could have peace, a tasteless moment, but then again he hated them because it seemed to mean they were psychos. And the world could really use a few thousand less psychos.

Too bad no one had gotten rid of the psycho who had done this to him in the first place. He was still out there and Taylor doubted they would ever find him, or find a cure for whatever it was that was wrong with him.