i'm sorry i'm like this

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don't know if it's triggering but f word slur in this one ;(

"and if it's cool you take my sweater
but i don't want to be with you forever"

despite the depressing lyrics clay lets me slow dance with him, just like last night. the crowd is thinning, people are starting to drop out. those who are left are faded and lounging around, or calmly vibing to the music like us. clay has one hand wrapped around my waist and one tangled in my damp hair. he brings our foreheads together, gently rocking us back and forth.

"i'm sure you could kiss me
or am i out of luck?
go to the movies
and after we could fuck"

i can't describe the millions of emotions rushing through my head. they're all of sweet infatuation, love and satisfaction. i'm numb but clay's touch is still just as powerful, just as amazing. he brings his hand down to cup my cheek, brushing his thumb against my clammy red skin.

i feel like a teenager falling in love for the first time. like i'm someone straight out of a cheesy high school drama.

"and i'll hold your hand for today
but don't think that we are a thing,
cause i don't want to be with you forever"

i look into clay's deep, blurry eyes. we're both enjoying the contact until he shuts them, leaving his hot, hitched breath on my lips as the only way of guiding me. i follow suit, leaning in ever so slightly to close the small distance.

his soft lips make me forget about everything around us. i fade away to a different kind of place, where only me and him could ever exist. the kiss isn't sloppy like you'd expect from two drunk guys like us. in reality it's slow, controlled and incredibly passionate.

his tongue gently brushes against mine, giving me no space to breathe. he tastes like my praised mix of burning vodka and sweet orange juice, and i'm sure i do too. it's lovely. my mind is fuzzy, the background music drowned out.

"text me if you love me tonight,
if you're lucky you might get a reply"

i fall back into reality when someone calls my name. i don't want this moment to end, but clay reacts too and pulls away before i can stop him.

"george! what the-"

it's nick. he looks completely out of it, stumbling in our direction while almost knocking people over. shit shit shit. i wasn't supposed to let this happen, why did i let him out of my sight? my thoughts are racing. he didn't take anything, did he? please don't tell me he took anything.

"text me if you love me tonight,
if you're lucky you might get a reply"

he stops a good 5 feet or so away from us, spitting at the floor with a strange expression adorning his face. i inspect his pupils and general appearance and he seems alright. just blackout drunk. a huge wave of relief washes over me.

"are you okay nick?" clay instinctively wonders, approaching him with a hand reached out.

he aggressively slaps it away, a flame of fury rising in his dark eyes.

"don't fucking touch me, fag!"

i gasp at the sentence, grabbing on to clay - who looks as horrified as me - for support.

the foul language has caught the attention of a group of people right beside us who seem to be discussing whether to act or not. i wave at them to hold it off for the time being. if this was anyone else i would've exploded right in their face, but since it's nick i can't bring myself to do that.

surely he doesn't know what he's saying. he's fucked up and clearly something else is wrong. he doesn't mean it...

"text me if you love me tonight,
if you're lucky you might get a reply"

"dude, what's going on? why are you-"
"do you think i'm stupid? do you think i haven't seen what you two faggots are up to? walking around smooching and giggling like little girls, huh? fuck you," he hisses, getting uncomfortably close. the harshness of his words hit me like a stab right in the heart. i don't know what to say.

the group of guys decide it's time to step up, approaching nick with caution and gripping both of his arms so he's got nowhere to go.

"calm down buddy, let's get some fresh air," one of them explains, leading my best friend towards the exit.
"be careful with him! please..."

clay is still frozen in place as their shadows fade away. he looks upset. shocked and upset. i tug at his shirt, attempting to drag him along.

"come on, we need to get out! i have to make sure he's okay, he has to be okay!" i ramble, the panic in my voice becoming more and more apparent.

clay takes my hand, quietly following me to the door. we slither past oblivious girls with their messy hair tied up, past sweaty high guys. my eyes are frantically searching for the brown haired boy as we finally stumble out into the chilly night. the music is becoming more distant, the words more harrowing.

"text me if you love me tonight,
if you're lucky you might get a reply"

california world - dreamnotfoundWhere stories live. Discover now