Vintage Memories

Chapter Fifteen "Take Me High And I'll Sing"

Warning: Gore and Violence

Night overshadowed the arcadian New Orleans thoroughfare, balancing just out range of the ever-bustling Bourbon Street. A lone shadow canted itself against a street lamp, his silhouette outlined in the halo of light that reigned upon him. He was dressed darkly to blend into the night, donning a dark grey shirt and a black vest, cognate to his black dress pants and shoes. Despite his prominent smile, his eyes flashed in nervousness as he looked up and down the street.

With his father working a night shift at the hospital, and his mother gone for a night out with her lady companions to the theatre, he jumped at the chance to meet up with a certain boy his parents would have staunchly disapproved of. He was eighteen now, legally an adult, and yet, he was still wedged under his parents' authoritarian upper hand. The more their control constricted around him, the more he thrashed against it like a fish on a hook, often sneaking out to experience the freedom he was denied and oh-so desperate to taste. The subtle click of shoes against the cobblestone street behind him made him tense and turn, an individual approaching him.

"Didn't think you'd actually be up for it, baby..." The shadow purred it's jocose as it drew near, coming into the light. Blonde hair with harsh black roots stood prominently in the light the street lamp provided. Baby blue eyes lined in dark shadow and liner glanced the lone brunette up and down, his glossed lips upturning in a smirk, "when ya' rang me up, I actually thought ya' were jokin'." He wore a startling pink suit, which rather suited his slender, teenage frame. Just turning sixteen, his height already surpassed his older companion. Allen looked up to the towering blonde. Though smiling, his eyes were still a bit nervous. Despite the fact that he could never recount the true reason behind why he all of a sudden wanted to partake in his partner's bloody activities, he knew that Anthony would gladly have him along, and give him a chance to satiate his dark desires.

It's killed him a little inside, keeping such a secret from his closest confidant. The guilt only grew further along as their budding relationship progressed. Allen quite honestly hadn't initially meant to cross that line with the boisterous blonde, but with Anthony's —completely wasted from a bottle of scotch, hasten to add— confession of his feelings, it was next to impossible to ignore his own. Logic grappled long and hard to convince him that the notion of entering any type of intimate relationship was a terrible mistake, being that he would never be able to impart himself entirely to the blonde no matter how much he wished to; he had already given himself away.

And yet, Anthony's magnetism was still too alluring for Allen to deny; here they were, from friends, to lovers.

"Well now is as good a time as ever, mon cher." The Cajun boy grinned, almost menacingly, his blood racing in excitement. He had been waiting for his moment to join his new lover on one of his jobs, jonesing for a hit of sweet adrenaline. Anthony flicked his suit jacket back, revealing the holsters strapped underneath, concealing two pistols to his hips. He pulled the .45 caliber pistol strapped to his right and handed it to the brunette, before turning and walking down the street, coxing Allen to follow.

"We'll be in 'n out, an hour max." Anthony stated, leading him to a black car parked down the street. He got in the driver's seat, his Cajun partner getting in beside him. "Make sure to do exactly what I say, ok babe?" Anthony glanced at his lover, who nodded in obedience.

"Of course, darling." They drove in heavy silence for a few minutes, Allen watching the passing buildings and street lamps zip by. He turned to look at his blonde boyfriend, who was keeping his heavily painted eyes on the road. He chuckled. "Your makeup looks lovely tonight."

"Thanks, baby..." The boxed-blonde's tone was flat, focused on the job at hand, but a light blush erupted across his face.

It had only been a few months since the two boy's relationship upgraded to a more intimate status, and Anthony was still getting used to the dynamic switch. It was spiritually lifting for him to live authentically in the presence of the one person who's opinion mattered the most to him. He wouldn't dare wear makeup, dresses, or heels in front of his family for fear of how badly he knew his father would react. His assigned jobs and his escape to New Orleans were sacred to him, and the Cajun boy who accepted him for who he was; he stood as a crucial sanctuary. For that, he continued to abide by his father's tyrannical rule, taking every job and following every one of that bastard's orders to keep his visits to New Orleans frequent.