SomeWhere On... (BXB)

CHAPTER 4: ...Deck 11, International Waters - March

A/N ~
hello, everyone! if you didn't get the chance to read my note at the end of the last chapter, the first three chapters have been updated to reflect their current edits and revisions! the next couple chapters are currently going through their final rounds, and they should be updated very soon!
thank you so much for reading!

anyways, onto the story!

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"If somebody is gracious enough to give me a second chance, I won't need a third."

~ Pete Rose

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I'm not sure what happened to get me to this point.

But the music's blaring, the lights are flashing different colours, and Murph's deep blue eyes stare me down while a dozen people separate us.

And I've never been so fucking scared in my life.

I swallow and wish we hadn't locked eyes. I'd be plenty happy if I didn't know he was on this boat with me.

That's a lie. I've been thinking about this moment for, like, three years.

Steve waves me down and I move off towards the bar, pulling my eyes away from Murph. I inhale and think that this trip's just gonna be so fucking shitty.

I spill my drink on the floor. This bitch bumped me. I sigh and step over the spilled whiskey.

"Mate, mate," Steve whispers, his nose and ears red. "Stop me now." He points to his girlfriend next to him. "Jess won't stop me."

I look at the bleach blonde woman grinning. She has another shot that she puts in Steve's hand. She looks at me and states, "He dances better when he's drunk."

This is true. Steve dances like a Broadway star when he's smashed.

Except I'm not interested in this. On any other night, I would be. Now I'm just pissed off.

Pissed at me and pissed that he's here.

"Why couldn't you just'f let me be miserable?" I mutter as Steve downs the shot. My eyes drop and I look across the room. I can't find him.

But maybe it's for the best.

"One more," she encourages. There's three more shots next to her.

I look down at my still-empty whiskey glass and put it on the counter. "I'm going for a walk," I tell Jessie.

I'm third wheeling anyways, so why make it more awkward.

Jessie waves at me as she hands Steve another shot.

The Discotheque opens into a hallway that overlooks the pool. We're only a day out from Southampton and Steve lied to me.

At least outside is nice and cool. And there isn't a lot of people around, either. This is the most, like, romcom-y shit ever, and I fucking hate this all - a single gay guy walking along the deck of a cruise ship after discovering his former lover is onboard.

Fucking shit.

"Tommy?" I turn and it's Murph.

He's dressed in a button down shirt and tan shorts. He's wearing flip flops, and his toes look weird. I think this is the first time I've seen his legs, and they're hairy and scrawny. And his bulky black glasses have been replaced by turtle shell ones that look so smart for him.

"Murph?" I ask. I feel stupid asking.

He frowns and takes one step closer to me. "Yeah, it's me."

No shit it's you.

"What're you doing here?" I ask.

Murph sits on one of the deck chairs. "Family vacation. You?"

"Steve dragged me here." I look away.

"Steve's here?"

"Except he's with someone."

He smacks his flip flops on the deck. "Like...his mom?"

YOU KNOW

I didn't miss that.

"No, his girlfriend." I look back at him. "Where's your family?"

Murph looks down at his drink, which he inexplicably brought out of the Discotheque with him. He takes a sip before putting it down on the wood floor. "It was a 'Singles Night' there. My aunt asked me to go."

"Ah. Okay."

And then it's just the sounds of the ocean underneath us for a while.

And then him asking, "Why did you do that?"

I look down. I scoff, except my stomach's twisting. It hasn't done that in a while. "I don't remember." I look back at him. "I'm sorry if...if you're still - "

"Mad?" he asks. His voice drops and he leans over forward, shivering. "What would make you think that?"

Sarcasm? When did he learn that?

I turn to him. Like, I'm completely facing him. "Murph, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not mad."

"Bullshit," I whisper, looking around the empty deck. "I don't know what happened that night. I don't."

"That doesn't negate the fact that what you did wasn't right," he whispers, standing. "I'm not mad, Tommy. I'm sad. I'm disappointed. And what makes it worse is that even you don't have an answer for me about why you did it." Murph takes his drink. His blue eyes are scrutenising me and I'm shaking because of it. "Y - I did like you, you know. I liked you a lot." I nod, my eyes dropping. "And, and you just...I know you didn't, but I feel like you used it. You used me."

I don't know what 'negate' means.

"That's not true!" I insist. "I just - " Panicked.

And self-destructed.

If I know myself, that's probably what I did. But I don't remember. I really don't.

"Tommy, I...I want to believe you, but..." He trails off.

"...I did like you, you know."

Murph looks at me with sad eyes. He re-adjusts his glasses. "Did you?"

"...yes." I pause. "Wouldn't of kissed you if I didn't."

His eyes drop back to the deck. "Okay," he whispers. He looks back up at me and shivers. "I'm cold." He hands me his drink and he walks back inside.

I lean back on the railing and take a swig of his drink.

Of fucking course it's Diet fucking Coke.

I groan and dump the fizzy drink over the side. I want to throw the glass but I don't. I'm broke and it isn't worth it.

"Fucking shit," I whisper, and sit down on the ground.

This was supposed to be the thing that distracts me.

This was supposed to be the thing that makes me bounce back.

Good fucking luck now.