Backstage; Wonah/Rester

15: Chocolate Milkshake

TW: Slurs, mentions of abuse, minor swearing

Jonah

"Here you go, one chocolate milkshake," Amber sets the drink in front of me while I lay face down on the counter, I don't even have the energy to spin around on the stool.

"And I believe you also ordered a person to talk to," She continues, I look up.

"No you must have your order wrong." I say with a little heart.

Amber looks insulted, "I have never messed up an order in my life." She huffs, putting her hands on her hips, this gets a smile out of me.

"You really don't have to-"

"This one is on the house, jojo. Ex-girlfriend special; break up with her and your next therapy session will be free." She sets her notepad and tray down and joins me at the bar, smirking. "And one must always honor the special."

"It's really nothing," I swirl my paper straw around. Amber just sits there next to me, waiting patiently for me to actually tell the truth. I make five circles around my cup until I build a mini tide and move around on it's own.

"Did Andi tell you?" I ask first, I may as well let her know or else she really is wasting her time.

"Tell me what?"

"Do you know that I'm bi?" I say it without looking up, trying to make it as casual as possible. Casual Coming Out. Where every letter has to be capital.

"She did not tell me that." Amber says, "because she really is a good person. But, she did tell me you liked someone." There is a smile peaking out on her face.

"I do like someone. But he doesn't like me."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well once you kiss them and they pull away, saying that they should go- you kind of figure it out." I say sadly. Amber makes a soft "oh" sound and nothing else. "It's not just that, it's the fact that he's the first person I've really liked for a long time. He's made me want to be more open about my sexuality. He's made me want to try and listen to new things and be a little bit more creative. To make my own song instead of singing somebody else's."

"He sounds truly amazing." Amber comforts.

"He is." At least I know that. If everything else in my life was a lie, that would be the only thing I could rely on.

"And so are you." Amber reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "Truly."

"Thanks-" I begin to say but a man starts dinging the bell at the chefs counter.

"Amber!" He shouts, "You've got customers to serve." Then points the very threatening spatula  at the door where more teenagers just entered, sounding the familiar ring of the bell. Amber tightens her ponytail and grabs her notepad again, smiling at me as she walks off. I drink more from my glass and trace circles on the counter.

My eyes drift over to the group that Amber now attends to, the tallest guy immediately stakes his position as the leader, eyeing Amber's chest and deciding exactly what everyone else in his party will be eating.

He Looks familiar...

Once he settles back down, another shorter kid hits his elbow and whispers something in his ear. And then looks directly at me.

I smile.

He frowns.

And then gets out of his seat.

"The famous Drummer boy." The guy grins, he can't be older eighteen but seems to tower over everyone else.

"You must think I'm someone else, I play the guitar." I try to put as much innocence into my voice as possible. Still trying to figure out how this Goliath knows me.

"Oh I know." He takes a step closer, "I have eyes and ears everywhere. And they have come to spot some.. rather interesting bits of information."

"I didn't realize teenagers could be part of the FBI."

"We've started our own FBI, called.. 'F*gg*t? Bag it.' You are under the impression of violating out policy." He grins and flexes both arms, showing an array of muscles and veins, I'm not scrawny myself, but if this guy got a paper cut near his bicep, the entire arm would gush out blood.

I pause until I know I have full control of my voice "What have I done?"

"Seems you've mistaken Walker to be your property." He pushes me back into my seat. "Did I never state that he was mine?"

"..Walker?.. Oh you're his ex-boyfriend-"

"And you're getting on my nerves. You don't want to know what happens." That line almost makes me crack up. But the way his sickening face turns and stares at me is enough to buzzkill my laughter for six months.

"Walker isn't dating you anymore. And Even when he was, you didn't own him." I say, trying to recover, "He's not your property."

"He was a pretty shitty property in the first place; never wanting to do anything no matter how hard I tried to convince him, always said that he wasn't gay, even cried when I hit him. So why on earth would you pay him any attention? Walker knows nobody else cares about him. Nobody but me."

For three moments I don't say anything. For three moments I'm in a little bit of shock. I try and swallow it down.

"Yo-..You're wrong-"

He pushes me, my spine hits the counter. "Sorry what was that stutter boy?"

"You. Are wrong."

"See I keep hearing 'You're wrong' coming from your stuttery mouth, but I can't be wrong? I invented him, without being in my arms Walker would be nothing. He is, nothing."

Nobody loved him. Not a single one of these jerks, and probably anyone else he dated. Not one person gave him what he deserves.

Swallow it down.

"Well here's a different word for you." I lift my head, "Bitch."

And then my face gets pummeled.

At least that's what would have happened if my reflexes hadn't thought to grab my chocolate milkshake and practically throw it all at him.

He spits and hisses, trying to shake the liquid off of him, others around me whip our their phones and record the sweet, sticky situation.

"Thank you for all of the wonderful information you have given me today, officer. I hope I don't offend your sputtery mouth anymore." And I get up from my stool, stepping around his puddle and weave through people to leave The Spoon.

Outside I start really thinking, (which according to my friends is a real improvement).

Walker was taken advantage of.

Walker deserves better.

I (sort of, kind of, maybe, possibly) know what I have to do.