8: Moving On- Rather Quickly, I Might Add

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Writing time: 4th- 6th November 2016

Metaphorically I'm a whore, and that's denial number four!"- Ode To Sleep, twenty one pilots, Vessel, 2013. Technically my now-ex got me into this band. Him and the fact they made a song for Suicide Squad. It's impossible to say if I'd have still listened to the song if he hadn't suggested them. To be honest, I probably would have. I mean, it was Suicide Squad. Which was considered fine to like at the time as it hadn't been commercially released.

Monday. I awoke. I was fine. I went about my week. I don't really remember much of it; it wasn't the most interesting part of the holiday. That had likely been and gone. Although, there was something to challenge that claim coming up very shortly.

The Thursday of that week, I received a message. It was from a friend (who I'll call the... erm... let's say the tall one. Believe me, there's a lot of names I could have given him there. To give you some insight into his character, he was the guy who thought Corey Stoll was black) inviting me to stay over at his house the next day, along with a couple of others. I agreed- I mean, it's not like I had anything else to do. No boyfriend to see. One thing did spark my attention: he'd invited my kind of crush. I say kind of because it was in a sexual sense rather than a romantic one. I would never date him, but I'd so fool around with him. In a heartbeat. No idea why I liked him. Our personalities weren't that compatible, I didn't even find him that attractive. I just saw him as this dominant figure- very exciting.
(By the way, that's about as kinky as I get. Which is probably a good thing for the sake of this. I'm no expert, but I'm presuming it's never good to make your reader[s] vomit. I guess maybe if the genre's horror then it's ok. But this is not. Moving on.)
Friday arrived, and so did I... to his house. It was me, him, my kind of crush, my first ex, and another kind of friend (who I noticed that day had a really great arse- and presumably still does unless he's had a really bad accident. He's straight though. Shame). Wait, my first ex? Awkward, right? No. Weirdly, we were good now despite the awful breakup. The passing of a year and her apparent memory loss caused by an injury meant there was no bad blood between us. Which was great- I hate conflict. Now, we could just hang out. Plus, she'd been fucking around (relatively literally) with the tall one. Strange really. She was my childhood crush, I'd gotten the chance to date her, yet it turned out she was 'right' for someone else. Oh well, that's life.
We hung out. Chatted. Played games. Messed about. Ended up in an entanglement of bodies on his bed while screwing around (no, not in that sense). I noticed one guy there had a fantastic arse. The usual kind of social gathering.
Later that evening, my first ex and the kind of friend left. I guess we're actual friends, I'm just saying that because a) I'm picky and b) we didn't hang out that much. Or ever. This would have been the first time we'd met outside school to my memory. Of course, this left me and my crush- and the tall one. After all, it was his house. Oh, the potential... that would never amount to anything. Or so I thought.

Now, my crush knew I liked him. The tall one had told him, and I'd attempted a pathetic come-on the previous month- and failed. So badly. It hurts to think back on. But I'm not going into that. No matter how much you don't ask. Anyway, my point is he hadn't been up for doing anything- as like I said, I didn't want to date him. He had a reputation for being... let's say 'fluid' with partners, and I was kind of banking on that. That's all I wanted. And I knew that he would theoretically do stuff (and that's as explicit as I'd like to get)- a drunken call at midnight from the tall one with him present had informed me of that a few months prior- he just didn't want to. And hereupon lay the issue.
However, apparently now he was willing to do stuff. When I asked the tall one later what changed, he just said my crush had basically gone 'fuck it'. Which worked for me; I hardly wanted a declaration of love. All I cared about was what was to come.
(There's a pun there. I'm not making it.)
So, the stage was set. The bedsheets rose. Everything was in place. Well, except for the elephant in the room. Which was the literal elephant in the room. As in the other person, the tall one, sitting in the corner. Ah.
(By the way, if the tall one is reading this, sorry. That wasn't an intentional dig at weight. It kind of became that. Seriously, that was a low blow; I apologise. And now I've overdone it. Anyway...)
This was a slight issue. Thank God, the room was dark and we were covered. Neither could see the other, and he'd wisely chosen to distract himself with his phone. What didn't help were the random comments he directed at us. Not insults, just the most random shit he could find, such as:
"I've found a Hitler and Jesus fanfiction!"
"I'll read you some."
"'Jesus looked up-" QUIET.
Dear lord. I know it was awkward- believe me, I would not want to be in his shoes. Mainly because they were too big. But even so. He had orchestrated this event. He'd put these specific sleeping arrangements in place. He knew the intentions of my crush and the hopes of myself. Could he just... not? I mean, it's not like I could have stood up and stopped him. Well, I could, but given my current state I'd have really rather not. Still, if I had it would definitely have shut him up just out of sheer discomfort. I'll keep it in mind for next time. If there ever is one. If I'm lucky, there won't be. Why? I'll explain later.
Eventually, he was quiet, and my crush and I could focus on the jobs at hand. I'll admit, he did practically all the work. Which was likely a good thing. I'd have just embarrassed myself. In theory, it should have been better than with my ex due to his experience, but for some reason I was unfocused. No idea why, but I'm sure I'm not the first person to have 'Sweet Dreams' by Eurhythmics playing in my head while being-
Once again, we didn't go all the way. Could have done, but I think lacking certain items and there being more people existing than necessary removed that idea. Still, it was fucking brilliant.

(Actually, that's sort of a lie. Something along those lines did almost occur. Secret for you, when I first wrote this chapter this next detail wasn't included, as I was too embarrassed to write it. But now, hey, why not. Basically, it was hours later. About three in the morning. The tall one was at the foot of his bed, my crush behind me. I was half asleep [Jesus, I'm really going to write this] ... to cut a long story short, it was a bad idea to face away from him. Yeah. Just going to leave you with that mental image. Needless to say, that didn't last long. Now back to the initial event.)

Afterwards, we got sorted out, redressed, and began a three-way (conversation, of course) with the tall one as if nothing had ever happened. Certainly, a better ending than the last attempt. Speaking of which, I don't remember if I realised this during, straight after or days later, but this day would have been my one-month anniversary with my ex. We'd made plans to go to a restaurant. And instead I'd spent it.... ooh. Yeah. Well, I was clearly over him.
The question I get asked the most about this is 'do I regret it?' Sorry, let me rephrase that. The question I ask myself the most about this is that. I mean, I rushed into it so quickly, and so soon after the breakup. The answer? Occasionally. Sometimes, when my brain is painfully conjuring up every mistake I've made, this event masquerades as one of them. To be truthful, I don't really care. I wanted to do it, the opportunity was there, I took it. If I hadn't dated my ex, I would have still been invited to stay. That wouldn't have changed. My crush's thought of 'fuck it' would have been the same. So there. I did it, it doesn't bother me enough to regret it, and I'd probably do it again.

(Well, not at the moment. But as I said, I'd explain why not later.)

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