Shadowbox 

Nyx’s Neon always smelled the same.When Alan slid into the small blue car, he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. The memories that this piece of shit car contained made his chest ache. It had been years since he had sat in it, but he might as well have been in high school.  

When Nyx Dufrene was seventeen and Alan Crane was eighteen, they had gone out to the French Quarter (her idea, not his) to meet with a few of her stupid heavy metal friends, who had decided to meet at the Whirling Dervish and have a ‘couple beers’. A couple beers usually meant that fifteen minutes after they got there, the guys had already drank about six pitchers and were catatonic on the floor. Nyx, knowing that Alan HATED going to the Dervish, dragged him along under the pretense of ‘just one beer and you can get yourself a gay ass Hurricane’.  Alan knew that was her nice way of saying ‘you’re my designated, so you have no choice’, and by that point he was ass over heels for her, so he went without a fight.

Well, the douchebags hadn’t shown up, and Nyx, not wanting to waste $15 on parking, suggested that they walk Bourbon. Alan was relieved to hear this, and though he wasn’t much of a nightlife person, he agreed readily. Well, Nyx thought it was also a crime that her liver go untortured for two hours, so she bought a Hand Grenade. One hand Grenade turned into three. Four. Five. And seven hand grenades were enough to floor a full grown man, but Nyx insisted on having an eighth and ninth on their long way back to the car.It took them two hours to make a walk that could be done in a half, because Nyx was stumbling and slurring and hanging onto Alan like a fucking barnacle. At this point, he knew she had a problem, but past experiences had taught him the hard way that when Nyx wanted to drink, you couldn’t stop her. All you could do was stay by her side and hope that she didn’t start fighting you and everybody else in the vicinity. 

 When Alan finally got Nyx to her car, she collapsed into the seat, eyes closed, hands clutching the two green Hand Grenades like they were the keys to a better universe.Alan got in, but didn’t start the car. Instead, he sighed and leaned against the seat.

“Nyx, you have to take the straws out of those damn drinks. I’m not starting the car until you do.”

Nyx grumbled. “Stupid fucking laws.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Just do it, Nyx. I want to go home.”

She muttered obscenities under her breath, but blindly groped for the window lever and pitched the two straws onto the pavement, like a petulant child.

Alan, however, did not start the car. Big mistake on his part.

“Nine, Nyx? Fucking nine Hand Grenades? Those things have grain alcohol in them! Do you have a fucking death wish?”

Nyx growled like an angry pit bull, her eyes still closed.

“Shut the fuck up, Alan. Just drive.”

“Oh, just drive, huh? How about I drive your ass right back to the Dervish and let those dirty metalhead fucktards take care of your ass? How would you like that?” Alan snapped, having no intention whatsoever of doing so, but it sounded good.

One hazel eye opened and narrowed. “Shut the hell up, mama’s boy.”

Alan grit his teeth but said no more. The car filled with electric tension, and he could actually feel the hair on his arms standing at attention. Nyx’s anger was tangible, like a live power line. When you felt the charge, you knew to stay away.Alan, reduced to muttering curses under his breath, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Drink the rest of those, Nyx, if you have to. I don’t want to get stopped.”

“The straws are out, remember?” Nyx mumbled.“Just drink them, Christ.” I just want to go home.Nyx suddenly lurched forward in the seat, glaring at Alan, her lip curling.

“Stop fucking telling me what to do, Alan Crane. It’s my goddamn car. You can take a fucking taxi home for all I care. Just shut the fuck up.”

Nyx Dufrene had very elongated incisor teeth, and when she smiled or leered a certain way, she looked for all the world like a vampire. Most of the time Alan found it sexy as hell, but now he shrank back from her, actually fearing for his life.

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She weaved drunkenly in her seat, teeth still bared, eyes narrowed.“I don’t even know why I invited you out here. I could have gotten home by myself, yanno? You’re no goddamn fun to party with. I don’t know why I fucking bother.”

Nyx made a face and kicked at the console in aggravation, taking a hard gulp of one of her Hand Grenades.Alan felt his heart break, but he cleared his throat.

“You’re drunk, Nyx. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. “If that’s the delusion you want to subscribe to, Alan, whatever.”

He winced, watching her stare morosely at the console. Police sirens wailed; an Impala cruised by on Canal St, blasting rap music. Nyx kicked again at the glove box, rubbing her eyes in annoyance.

“Why the fuck do I bother?” She repeated, almost to herself.Alan bit his lip.

 “I’ll just bring you home so you can cool off.”

With a ferocity and strength that made Alan jump halfway out of his seat, Nyx hurled both half full Hand Grenades at the windshield, covering the console and glass with sticky melon liquor. The smell of it invaded his nostrils.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nyx, what the hell is your problem?” Alan demanded angrily, wiping the wetness off of his arms and face with disgust.

Nyx’s nostrils flared as she glared at him.

 “Quit telling me to cool off, goddammit.” She ground out between her teeth. “I’m sick of people telling me to calm down or cool off and grow up. Sick of people trying to make me into someone I’m not. You want peace and quiet, you go find a girlfriend at a goddamn country club. Someone who will be content with sitting on their size zero ass at home, listening to your sainted mother explain the difference between Gucci and Prada. Cause I can tell you for damn sure that it’ll never be me, Alan, so don’t be making any plans on it.” She snapped, her fists balling at her sides as if she meant to actually beat the words into him.

Her words were like whizzing knives-each one slashed into Alan in a different place until his heart hung in tatters. He could only stare at her, slack jawed, unable to speak. He hated to admit to himself that what she said was the truth-he HAD gone into this with the belief that he could tame her. Alan, however good of a person he might be, was still used to getting what he wanted, and seeing that this was an endeavor at which he would fail miserably, well, that jerked him up short. So, like the spoiled rich boy that he was, he did the only thing he knew to do when something didn’t go his way-he lashed out.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” He spat.

Talk about the WRONG thing to say.Nyx’s head swiveled around and her eyes were so narrowed that he could not see the whites. Hatred sizzled in her skin. It was so quiet in the car that Alan could hear the soft pitter-patter of the liquor dripping onto the floormats. Immediately, he regretted his choice of words, but it was too late.

“Brat?” She hissed.And before Alan could defend himself, she flew at him. 

Alan’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He remembered how terrified he had been, thinking that she’d punch him or scratch him or even try to kill him, as drunk as she was, but instead, Nyx hadkissed him. It certainly wasn’t tender; Nyx’s kisses never were, but after a few seconds of shock, he had moaned and pulled her right up against him. Her mouth had tasted like melon hand grenade and she herself had smelled like vanilla and as angry as she was, her skin had been so soft…Alan groaned. Why was he sitting here torturing himself over a memory that meant nothing, in the end? He was gay, wasn’t he? Didn’t he think of only men at night, or to be more precise now, Lance?

Since Christobel, hadn’t he ignored or not noticed women at all, feeling ashamed of his private daydreams about men?Maybe Nyx is right. Maybe I AM bi. Alan only lent credence to that idea for a moment, but knew it wasn’t true. It was just HER. Alan knew he could become the nelliest fag out there, but a part of him would always stay with Nyx. He suddenly hated his eighteen year old self for believing or even wanting to tame Nyx Dufrene. Not only was it impossible, but her obstinacy and rakehell nature was the very thing that drew him to her, and if he had ever managed TO turn her into a woman that he could marry, he would have hated her before long.And now that damn melon smell was sure to be in his nostrils all fucking night. He recalled how pissed off Nyx had been after she had woken up and found her car covered in sticky liquor. She had scrubbed and scrubbed the entire thing, washed the floormats and gotten it detailed, but the baking Louisiana sun had broiled the smell into the car, and no matter what she did, nothing had ever managed to fully eradicate the aroma. Nyx herself had no memory of the incident, but Alan always would.

A horn beeped and he was launched abruptly back into the real world by Lance, who had pulled up beside him and was gesturing for him to lead the way. Alan bit his lip. He had no other choice but to drive Nyx’s car back to his house. He fervently prayed that Christobel was asleep, but he doubted it.

The little Greek flag that hung from Nyx’s rearview mirror bobbed as he put the little Neon in drive and followed Chris out of the parking lot. As Alan stared at the back of the man’s PT Cruiser, he tried to fight down the nagging feeling that this might end badly, and that Chris, despite how deeply he obviously felt for Nyx, would not be able to handle it. But he could do nothing but watch as his heart went one way, and he had to go the other.The Crane residence was mercifully dark as Alan cut the headlights and pulled quietly against the curb, but that meant nothing. Christobel had developed chronic insomnia years ago from her compulsive need to spy on the neighbors, the maids, and of course, Alan himself.  He could just imagine the look on her squinty face if Alan pulled up in Nyx’s car with a gay boyband member in the Prowler, but unless he learned how to become invisible in the next 10 seconds, he was going to have to bite the bullet.

He checked the top floor windows for flickering curtains and/or movement, but saw nothing, and quickly hopped out of Nyx’s car before Lance started wondering what the hell he was doing. Alan was at his Prowler in six quick strides and mentioned for Lance to hurry and get into the passenger seat. Lance, thankfully, didn’t ask any questions.It wasn’t until they had pulled out of the driveway that Alan was able to relax, and Lance noticed.

“Dude, are you alright?”Alan smiled vaguely at him.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know if Christobel was awake or not. She’s not that great of a sleeper.”

Lance was quiet for a moment, and then blurted out, “Is she really that bad, Alan?”

Alan took a deep breath. “She’s not the most understanding female on Earth.”

“Then why do you bother?” Lance wanted to know, and Alan shrugged.“It’s a long story, man.”Lance reached over and touched Alan’s hand. Every hair on the back of his neck shot up.

“I’ve got ears.” Lance said softly, and Alan chuckled, but his throat felt parched.

“It’s a little too long for the short drive back to the movie theatre.” He admitted, and Lance smiled.

“I’ve also got a thing called a house. You can sit and do many things inside of it while maintaining relative privacy.”

Yep. His dick was hard now.Before Alan could squeak out a response, Lance let go of his hand (dammit) and peered out of the window.

“Slow down, dude. I want to see if Chris and Nyx made it back to his place.”Alan obliged, and both were relieved to see Chris’s car parked outside his house, the lights off.

“Man, I hope she’s going to be okay.” Lance rubbed his temples, and Alan felt a surge of affection for him.

“Nyx is a big girl, and she knows what to expect. It’s Chris I’m worried about.” Alan admitted, and Lance laughed softly.

“Yeah, he’s going to have a lot to deal with tonight.”Alan gunned the Prowler and they shot off towards the highway, his heart still in his throat from Lance’s teasing remark about his house. Did he want to go over to Lance Bass’s house? Was the Pope religious? Hell yes, he wanted to go. But.

There was always a but.

He had never been with a man before like that, and he didn’t want to appear stupid or naïve. Lance had evidently had practice being with another guy, but Alan wasn’t sure if he could do it. To do it would admit that it was real, and at this point he wasn’t sure if he was ready for things to get real. Chris’s warning to not play with Lance’s emotions reverberated through his head, and while Alan could be ditzy, he wasn’t stupid enough to call Chris’s bluff. Brotherhood could leap over all sorts of fences.

The journey back to the movie theatre took a little quicker then Alan would have liked, and as he pulled smoothly alongside Lance’s SUV, Alan could feel his heart banging against his ribcage.

“It’s been a crazy night.” Alan offered awkwardly, and Lance snickered. “Oh, I’d say so.”

“Thank you for coming with me. I wouldn’t have known what the hell to do with myself. You kept pretty cool in there.” Alan smiled gratefully at the other man, who flushed a little.

“Oh, it was nothing. And you have to stay cool in those kinds of situations. The press can smell fear from a mile away.”

Alan smirked. “I’ll remember that, but hopefully I won’t have to encounter them ever again.”Lance raised a pale eyebrow, but said nothing.

“And thanks for the movie. It was really funny.” Alan tried again, and Lance chuckled.

“Alan, we’re grown men. This doesn’t need to be so awkward.”He swallowed. “I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“You’ve never done anything like this before, am I right?” Lance wanted to know, turning his body sideways, his eyes made all the more green by the blinking dashboard lights. Alan thought he had never seen anything sexier in his life.

Nyx who? He could only shake his head.

Lance chuckled, that deep amused one that sent chills straight down Alan’s spine.

“Dude, I totally get it, but I’m not inviting you over for an orgy. I’m just suggesting you come over and we have a few beers and hang out. It’s only midnight, and I’m amped. Besides, the press doesn’t know where I live.”

Alan was confused. “But haven’t you always lived here?”

Lance smiled. “No, I live in Los Angeles.”

“Then why…”Lance tilted his head, looking very amused now. “I come down when I have a reason to come down.”

Jesus Christ. Why does everything that comes out of this man’s mouth sound like a prelude to sex?“

Oh.” Alan squeaked.

“And to see Chris and Joey, of course, but I rent a house down here when Los Angeles gets to be too much and I want to hang around REAL people for a change. I’ve been considering to just move down here and get it over with, but I’d like to have a REALLY good reason to do so.”

The meaning was not lost on Alan.

“Oh.” He squeaked again.Lance grinned. “So just follow me to my house, okay, Alan? You look…,” he tilted his head and Alan could SWEAR that Lance Bass was staring at his lips. “thirsty.”

“Okay.” Alan whispered.

Again, that smile, and before Alan could melt into a puddle of goo and slid off of the leather seat onto the floor, Lance was out of the vehicle and was sliding into his SUV.

Alan was so horny and so dazed that he almost forgot to put the Prowler in drive and as a result, almost lost Lance.

The trip to this rental house was plagued by thoughts of wanting to turn around, wanting to keep going, wanting to tackle that man, damn all self consciousness. In fact, he was so terrified and so lost in his worries that before he could take a side street and make a break for it, they were pulling into the driveway of a two story villa house that looked more like a doctor’s residence then a mere rental property.

Alan watched the brake lights on Lance’s SUV flare, then turn off. His heart was about to thump right out of his chest and splatter against the windshield. What was he doing?

Just put the car in reverse and go, Alan. You can go back to your safe, boring life with your safe, boring fantasies and put up with your screeching, poisonous fake fiancée. Go ahead. Do it. If anybody finds out, you’ll lose your money and your job and your name. Think about your Dad’s face, Alan. Think about the paparazzi.

Lance got out of his car and turned and smiled at him.

No, I don’t think I will. Fuck you.

Alan got out of the car.

Chris Kirkpatrick’s ass was freezing cold.He moaned in his sleep and grabbed blindly at the comforter, yanking it over his body and hugging his pillow close to him. His intention was to sleep for the next three days, if he could.

Somewhere on the floor, his IPhone started ringing.Chris coughed and pulled the comforter tighter, swaddling his eyes.

Maybe if I ignore it, I can pretend it never happened.The annoying ringing did not stop, though, and Chris let out a huff of disgust as he groped blindly on the floor for the phone, an elaborate death threat on his lips already. This was ridiculous.

His fingers finally closed around it and he squinted at the bright screen.

Justin Timberlake. Fucking kid.

Chris tucked the phone between his ear and the mattress.

“Dude, what the hell do you want?”

Justin’s voice was way too loud and clear for 9am. “Dude, where the fuck are you?”Chris growled.

”In bed, where I’m supposed to be. Why the hell do you care?”

“Cause you were supposed to be at the club an hour ago to tee off!”

Chris sighed blearily. “What club, shithead?”

“The country club, asshole! Remember, we have that early morning charity golf thing?”

Chris’s eyes shot open. “Holy crap, dude, I’m SO sorry. Shit!” He threw off the covers and sat up in bed, cursing himself.

“You’ve been knowing about this for weeks, dude!”

“Ah, God, Justin, I had one hell of a night last night, man. You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“If it involves liquor, I’m sure I can figure it out.” Justin said dryly, and Chris made a face as he grabbed his shorts off of the floor.

“Dude, it didn’t involve-never mind, look, I’ll be there in a half hour and tell you all about it.”

“Fine, but you owe me dinner at that Equator place in Los Angeles, next time we go. You know, the one with the belly dancers?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Now let me get dressed, please?”Justin heaved a sigh.

“HURRY.”

“Whatever, fro boy.” Chris muttered, hanging up the phone. He took in a deep breath and rubbed his crusty eyes. He really, REALLY didn’t feel like doing this stupid golf tournament (odd, because he had been really excited for it a week ago) but he did not particularly want to hear Justin bitch any more. Besides, when he committed to a function, he came through, even if it meant coming in late. And he HAD a good excuse. Not that he could tell anybody that he was out until midnight with his drugged up girlfriend, but-

Oh shit. Girlfriend. Nyx.

Chris spun around, halfway expecting to find Nyx gone, as he always did in the mornings, but she was there, curled up tightly in a ball. Chris reached over and gently shook her.

“Babe?”

Nyx didn’t move. Chris pulled himself closer and brushed the hair off of her face. He could see that she was breathing normally, but he wanted to wake her up and make sure that she was okay. He had no idea what happened to a person the morning after they rolled.

“Nyx, babe, wake up.” He shook her a bit harder, and Nyx sighed in her sleep.

“Mmhmm…sandbags.” She muttered, then turned her face into the pillow.Chris raised an eyebrow. Sandbags?

“Wake up, Nyx. C’mon.” He rolled her onto her back slowly, and Nyx let out a little moan and stretched. Chris could not help himself from admiring the view, and faint memories of last night’s little tumble session was making him twitch.

As much as he wanted to stay in bed with her, all soft and sleepy, time was running short, and Chris still had to jump in the shower. He put a hand on her stomach and shook her again.

“Nyx, wake up, babe.”

One eyelid lifted and focused on him.

“Hmm?” She stretched again. Chris had to force himself to look at her face.

“I gotta leave, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He whispered, and Nyx rubbed her eyes.“Where ya goin?”

“I have a golf thing that I forgot about. Justin is pissed at me.”

Nyx snickered. “Poor fro boy.”

“I know, but I already owe him dinner and bellydancers. If I don’t hurry, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Chris kissed her cheek and pulled away from her, gathering his clothes.

Nyx rolled over on her side to watch him.

“You have a hairy ass.” She observed, and Chris rolled his eyes, feeling more than a bit self conscious.

“Thanks, babe.”

Nyx chuckled. “I like your hairy ass.”

“You have the best morning after talk.” Chris replied, but he winked at her.

“I can’t remember anything from last night.” Nyx confessed, and Chris stopped from picking up clothes on the floor and looked at her.

“Really?”

“I know it happened, though. I have a serious headache.” Nyx closed her eyes and exhaled deeply.

“There’s Advil downstairs. You should probably eat.” Chris suggested, heading towards the shower.

“Don’t worry about me, Kirkpatrick. Just get your cute hairy butt in motion before Timberlake kills you and then I have to kill him.” Nyx teased, and Chris snickered.

“I’d pay damn good money to see you tackle his big ass.”

“Be careful of what you wish for.” Nyx winked at him.“Gotta hurry.” Chris smacked a kiss her way, then hurried into the bathroom before time got any shorter and the urge to tackle HER got any stronger.

Luckily for him, he had mastered the fine art of speed showering from living on a bus for so many years, and was out and dressed within ten minutes. He was so busy trying to brush his teeth and shave at the same time that he didn’t notice the mop and bucket in the corner.

By the time he got out of the shower, his bed was already deserted and he could hear Nyx downstairs, banging around in the kitchen. Chris smiled sadly to himself. He didn’t want to admit that he was getting a little too used to having her around here in the mornings, making breakfast, coming here after she got off of work, just being there overall. His hardcore bachelor instincts should have spoken up a long time ago, but they remained silent and Chris Kirkpatrick was forced to admit to himself that he wanted, no, NEEDED her there.

This was terrifying in itself.

He had no time to sit there and mull over it, because Justin was waiting, and so were his commitments, which, girlfriend or not, he had to honor. Chris grabbed his phone and wallet and took the stairs three at a time, then exploded into the kitchen with his usual exuberance. Nyx, used to this by now, didn’t even jump. Instead, she held out a steaming cup of coffee his way. Chris took it, but raised his eyebrows when he saw that she was dressed in her work uniform.

“You’re going to work?”Nyx shrugged. “Bills don’t care about headaches, babe.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t, I mean, if you don’t feel good.” Chris said slowly, and Nyx patted his cheek.

“Oh, I feel fine. A headache won’t kill me. I took Advil and I get off early, anyway. Stop worrying about me.” Nyx chastised, and Chris sighed, but said no more. Privately, it freaked him out how strange last night had been only to give way to this-Nyx didn’t seem at all perturbed or worried about the long term effects of last night.

“You going to the studio afterwards?” Nyx asked, clearly wanting to steer him off of the subject of her health.

Chris shook his head. “Not today. Not sure how long this damn golf tournament is gonna last, but there’s a Steelers game on tonight, and I’m not missing it.”

She smirked, but said nothing else.Chris gulped the rest of his coffee down, wishing he had time for at least three more cups of it.  He eyed Nyx worriedly.

“I really don’t know about this, Nyx…”She sighed in exasperation.

“Christopher Alan Kirkpatrick, please get your Chewbacca lookin ass out of here and go play some putt-putt with the Timbergeek. I am fine. Capital F-I-N-E. Now go-you’re making this headache worse.”

Chris sighed. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Come here.”Nyx huffed but went willingly enough into his arms and let him kiss her. What was meant to be a quick kiss immediately turned into a slow, deep, toe curling affair, and Chris was seriously considering taking his sweet time and blaming it on traffic. Nyx wasn’t having it, though, and with a laugh, she pushed him away.

“You’re hopeless.” She sighed, patting his cheek. Chris grinned. “Yeah, but you don’t complain.” Nyx rolled her eyes.

“Go.”

As if to punctuate her words, Chris’s phone vibrated and he groaned in irritation. Nyx cocked her head to the side.

“Should have choked him on the bus when you had a chance, huh?”

“You’re telling me.” Chris muttered, kissing her temple. Nyx stuck a still warm Pop-Tart in his hand and swatted him on the butt.

“Have fun serving rich entitled assholes!” Chris called on his way out of the door, grabbing his golf bag.

“Have fun wacking balls!” She hollered back.Chris had every intention to do just that, but as he backed out of his driveway, he couldn’t help but feel that nagging sensation that again, Nyx was lying to him. And though he loved golf and hated screwing people over, a big part of him wanted to throw the car in drive and go back in and keep an eye on her.

But old habits die hard and Chris Kirkpatrick was still too used to making sure his business always came before pleasure. Poverty, along with Johnny Wright, had made DAMN sure of that. Still, he thought, keeping his house in the rearview mirror, what he would give to just be able to turn around.

My grin dropped as soon as Chris’s front door shut behind him. I waited until I heard his car pull out of the driveway and rev down the street before I rolled my eyes in disgust.

Who had I become, June fucking Cleaver? Oh here’s your coffee dear, have a nice day at the office. By the way, don’t worry about thehallucinogenic amphetamine I took last night. It’s all the norm for me.

I yanked off my work nametag and stalked upstairs to find a different shirt. My head was pounding dully and I felt shaky and slightly nauseous. Chris was right. I was in no condition to go to work, though I’ve gone through worse. Believe me, I had no intention of going to work on my day off. But Chris didn’t need to know that and I desperately needed to clear my head.I dug out my cell phone as I hurried down the stairs, checking the bay windows as I did. Chris was notorious for leaving and coming back for forgotten things-wallet, phone, golf clubs, papers, general sanity.

When Alan picked up, he sounded as if he had been gargling Styrofoam.

“Hello?” He croaked.

“Damn, who’s dick did you swallow last night?”I could almost see the red bubbling up into his cheeks.

“Nyx!”

“Wake up. I want breakfast.” I hopped up on the kitchen island.“What the hell does that have to do with me?” Alan grumbled.

“Uh, fuckhead, because I enjoy your company so fucking much that I have to look at you while I eat. Now chop chop. Come get me at Chris’s house. Don’t ask me to endure seeing Christobel in the morning.”

“Are you even going to eat?” Alan wondered, but I could hear him getting up, sighing sleepily.

“Don’t worry about me. Isn’t it enough that I just want to spend time with you?” I sighed theatrically, but my head was pounding. The thought of food made me want to empty my stomach into the sink.

“We spent enough time together last night.” Alan muttered.

“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.  I probably would have ended up naked in a ditch somewhere if it hadn’t been for you. And Lance.” I bit my lip.

Alan chuckled hoarsely. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I made a face, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “I’ll ignore that. Come on, wake up, take me to food.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Give me a break, Nyx. I got in at 5am, for Christ sakes.”

My ears perked up at that.

“Oh really? Is your ass sore from Lance’s pounding?”

“NYX!” Laughing, I hung up.

Justin stared at Chris in open mouthed shock.

“Dude, what?!”

Chris sighed, leaning on his golf club. “She got slipped ecstasy.”

Justin just stood there, gaping, gripping his club as if it was the only thing tethering him to sanity. Chris sighed.

“Dude, just hit the damn ball before we start holding people up.”

Justin ignored that, and as the shock dissipated, Chris began counting down to the inevitable Justin Timberlake ‘protect the reputation’ hissy fit. All the signs were there-blue eyes narrowed, thin lipped, cursing under breath, pacing back and forth. And then-

“Jesus, Chris, do you know how dangerous that is?!”

Chris rolled his eyes. “The drug or the situation, Justin?”Justin stabbed at the soft grass with his golf club in frustration.

“Both, you ass!”

“First of all, it’s not like I slipped the damn pill in her drink. I wasn’t even there. It’s not her fault, either. It just happened, Justin. I mean, what do you care? You’re not implicated in any way.” Chris retorted, and Justin glared at him.

“No, it’s YOU I’m worried about. You’re about to release an album, Chris. You already have a reputation as an alcoholic and pothead. You’re dating a younger woman who you know almost NOTHING about, and you expect me to just brush it off because I’m not implicated in any way?” Justin hissed, and Chris bristled, his fingers clenching painfully around the golf club.

“Just-don’t take this the wrong way, but back off. I’m a grown fucking man, and I know what I’m doing.”

Do you? The Undisputed Truth jeered.

Justin’s mouth opened in a retort, but Chris raised both of his eyebrows at him, and the younger man wisely snapped his mouth shut.A moment or two passed as Chris lined up his shot and swung with a little more force then it generally required to send a golf ball flying. This silent sign of irritation was not lost on Justin, and he bit his lower lip worriedly.

The ball hit at least five feet away from the hole and Chris muttered in annoyance. “Come on, next hole.”

They hoisted up their golf bags and after stowing them in the back of the golf cart, Justin hopped in the driver’s seat and stepped on the gas. Chris was oddly silent and Justin could see the little cogs turning and clicking in his head-though he didn’t want to acknowledge the huge risk he was taking, Justin knew Chris was considering it and hoped he made the right decision. Unfortunately, you could never tell exactly what the older man was thinking and so Justin cleared his throat.

“So, um-is Nyx at least okay?”

Chris nodded, his eyes still trained straight ahead, as if the perfectly mowed golf course held the answers to the universe. “She’s okay. Went back to work today.”

“She’s not sick or anything?”Chris shrugged. “If she is, I wouldn’t know. She’s pretty tough. I’ll tell her you asked.”

Justin chewed on the inside of his mouth, allowing the golf cart to come to a smooth stop behind an empty one. He turned the ignition and let the silence between them in the cart take over. Normally these golf outings with Chris were a blast and the two of them would chatter like old women the entire time, but the other man seemed withdrawn and preoccupied.

“What are you going to do, Chris?” Justin murmured, hoping against hope that his friend would resurface and get a grip on himself; dump Nyx and find a better girl. One that didn’t threaten his career and drive him insane with worry. There were plenty of girls out there that would love to be with Chris; plenty who wouldn’t go out and allow themselves to get roofied in a public place while Chris’s album was set to debut. Plenty of them. Justin would supply his friend with a buffet of girls if he asked.

Chris slowly turned to face Justin, his expression politely blank. Justin had seen better acting in a mannequin.

“About what?” The tone was questioning, but there was a faint layer of threat at the bottom of Chris’s words. At that moment, Justin knew that no matter how much Chris would act for the rest of the day, he would rather be somewhere else. And for the first time ever in their friendship OR career, that hurt.

Justin cursed inwardly.

“Nothing, dude. Nothing.”

“This place is where breakfast goes to die.”

“God, Alan, stop being such a fucking pansy. It’s a restaurant. Trust me, the middle class doesn’t bite.”

“How do you know?!”

“Christ, just sit down. Yeah, just two. No, we’ll get the buffet.”

“The BUFFET?!”

“Shut up, asswipe. I’m sorry, ma’am, my friend here is a fucking idiot, pardon my French.”

Nyx shoved Alan in a wooden chair and pointed her finger at him. “Sit there and shut the fuck up.”

“The walls might bleed.”

Nyx dropped in her seat and gave him a withering look. “Will you just stop being a fucking trust fund fag for a minute?”

“You know, I can get in the country club. For free.” Alan muttered, and Nyx sighed.

“There is NOTHING wrong with SHONEY’S. Christ, if this is the way you act here, don’t ever let me take you to Waffle House. It’s food, Alan. Slum it.”

Alan heaved a huge sigh but said nothing else. A waitress who possibly did porn on the side (bad porn at that) sauntered up to their table and raised her eyebrows at them.

“Whaddyawannadrink?"

Alan recoiled in horror, but Nyx ignored him. “Coke for me, coffee for him. One buffet.”

The waitress rolled her eyes but stomped off and Alan gaped in horror at Nyx. “One buffet? Aren’t you eating?”

Nyx sighed as if she were talking to a very stupid child. “You should know I’m not hungry.”

“But I..”

Nyx shot daggers at him as the surly waitress set down a steaming cup of coffee in front of Alan and a Coke in front of Nyx, then wandered off to text her parolee boyfriend in the bathroom.

“Anyway…so what happened last night with you and Poof?” Nyx asked, taking a sip of her Coke. Alan eyed his coffee furtively.

“He invited me to his place.”“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”A moment of silence passed as Alan tried to work up the nerve to sample the cup of sludge in front of him.

Nyx rolled her eyes and nudged the cup closer.

 “AND?”Alan shrugged. “And, nothing. I came in, we had a few drinks, talked on the couch for awhile. I got tired, said goodbye, went home.”

Nyx scoffed in disgust. “You two are the worst homos ever.”

“Yeah, well, your little escapade kinda ruined the mood.” Alan retorted, and Nyx had the grace to look abashed.

“Yeah, well.”

Alan sighed. “I don’t know, Nyx. It’s very complicated.”

Nyx snorted. “Oh no, I don’t think my tiny brain could contemplate that! Complicated! Whatever in the world are you talking about?”

Alan sighed. “Fine. It’s no big deal, Nyx. I mean, he’s a great guy. Awesome looking. No threat of being used for my money there. Funny, smart, sweet. Shit, a fucking dream come true.”

Nyx’s eyebrows raised. “Sounds perfect.”

“If he had a vagina, it would be.” Alan admitted, and Nyx, for once, didn’t roll her eyes or scoff disgustedly. She nodded sadly.

 “True.”

“So, how’d the rest of your night go?” Alan asked, as cheerfully as he could. Truthfully, the last thing he wanted to do was hear Nyx describe the incredible night she had shared with Chris while rolling her ass off. Especially in a dirty dim Shoney's, of all places. Talk about adding insult to injury.

But Nyx just groaned. “Christ, don’t let me think about it. I think I’ve finally scared the man off. He didn’t know whether to wind his ass or wipe his watch last night.”

“You bring that out in people.” Alan said dryly, dumping a helping of Half & Half in the coffee.

Nyx ground her palms into her eyes and growled to herself. “Christ, Alan, he was trying SO hard to be a good guy. He didn’t even want to take a shower with me. It was fucking noble and sweet and disgusting and frustrating at the same time.”Alan cocked his head.

“So…you are implying that you did NOT get laid last night or utter those three horrible words.”

Nyx peeked at him between her fingers. “Oh, I got laid. And as for the last part, that’s the scary part, Alan-I don’t remember.”

Alan swallowed. “You DON’T remember.”

Nyx belatedly ran her hand down her face.

“That’s right, Alan.  Christ, that was probably the best lay in my life and for all I know, the X unlocked some deep pit where all my disgusting girly feelings reside and let those words out. I wouldn’t know! I had my head far up my ass last night!”

Alan choked on the steaming coffee. “Please tell me that was a figurative statement.”

Nyx glared at him. “Nasty.”

“Did he say anything this morning?” Alan questioned, and Nyx shook her head.“No, he was late for some sort of golf thing with Justin. Christ, I hope Chris doesn’t tell him. That’s all I need is for the Boy Wonder to hate me even more.”

Alan raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Justin hates you?”

Nyx sighed. “You know those people who look at you like they’ve figured you all out and they don’t like what they see?”

Alan snickered. “I live with your cousin, love.”

“Well, that’s Justin. And I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not some tall Swedish supermodel or if Froboy actually has enough brains in his bleached noggin to know that I’m not all I pretend to be.”

Alan laughed. “Nyx, I can’t even figure you out. What makes you think Justin Timberlake can?”

Nyx grudgingly nodded. “I just don’t know, Alan-he just looks at me like I’m not good enough for Chris, which I already know, but goddamn.”

Alan reached over the grimy tabletop and grasped Nyx’s hand in his. It felt small and cold and fragile in his, and Alan met her eyes with solemn sincerity.

“Nyx, you’re good enough for anybody. Too good, in fact.”

Nyx smiled softly and squeezed his hand. “I love it when you lie to me.”

“More coffee?” The waitress asked in a bored tone, and the two of them awkwardly sprang apart as she filled Alan’s cup to near capacity, then slithered off.

“So, um, you better go get something to eat.” Nyx said nervously, looking down at her lap.

“If you say so.” Alan replied dutifully, then rose to navigate the small isles, trying his damndest to not bump into anybody on the way.Nyx’s phone beeped in her pocket and she dragged it out and flipped it open.

R u ok?

Nyx took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Fine. How’s golf?

Boring. Justin says he hopes u feel better

She winced. Goddamn it these boybands and their fucking gossiping.

Tell him I said ty. Did u tell him about last nite?

A little.

Ok.  G2G. txt you later

Bye babe

Nyx put her forehead down on the tabletop and banged it gently against the Formica. Her entire being screamed out for a drink. She imagined her liver, diseased and throbbing and sick inside of her. Suddenly the idea of being anywhere near food made her want to vomit. But she was so unbelievably tired.  So tired she could fall asleep on this goddamn dirty table in the middle of fucking Shoney’s.

A rustle of linen and the smell of Gucci and the nauseating stink of watery eggs infiltrated her nostrils and Nyx raised her head blearily. Alan had put together a plate of eggs and bacon and toast. Accustomed to country club fare, he stared glumly at the steaming food in front of him.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Look, it’s probably safer then eating at home. At least you know there’s no cyanide in it.” Nyx said helpfully, and Alan groaned.

“Are you sure?”

Eye roll. “There are starving kids in Africa. I should know. Chris is playing golf for them today. Now eat.” Nyx put her hand underneath Alan’s sparsely loaded fork and guided it up to his mouth.

As he chewed dutifully, Nyx looked down at the white tabletop. “So…last night-I didn’t forget everything.”

Alan swallowed. Painfully.

Nyx’s fingernail traced a pattern on the side of her sweating Coke glass. “You wanna tell me what the hell all that meant, Alan?”

Alan swallowed. Painfully.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Nyx smiled slightly. “Do not bullshit a bullshitter. I heard everything you and Chris said.”

“You should work for the fucking Secret Service.” Alan muttered, stabbing his now rubbery eggs with vengeance.

“Are you gay or what, Alan?” Nyx straightened up and fixed him with a speculative stare. Alan bit his bottom lip. Gloria Estefan sung brassily from the speakers above them. At that moment he wished the fake potted plant above his head would fall down and comically strike him unconscious.

“I don’t know.”

Nyx cocked her head and eyed him. “You don’t know.”

“I’m confused, Nyx.”

“That is evident.”

“Look, if it makes you feel any better, Chris isn’t going to let me take you away. He seems to think I have this grand plan to whisk you away and store you in my cold castle. I told him the only way I could ever get you to do that would be to whap you over the head with a frying pan and bind you like a fucking alligator.” Alan snapped, and Nyx’s eyes grew wide.

“Goddamn. I’m sure I didn’t hear all that.”

“Well, I’m sure he got my point.” Alan muttered, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth.

Nyx tapped one fingernail against the table, looking thoughtful and not murderous, which Alan was grateful for.

“He doesn’t hate you, you know, Alan.”

“He’s a good actor.” Alan said dryly. Nyx shrugged.

 “If you sleep better at night hating him, then by all means, think that he hates you back.”Alan made a face.

“Please wait till I’m done eating this crap to start championing Kirkpatrick. I know you get off on being cruel, but there’s limits.”

Nyx glared at him. “I’m not going to start championing him. Jesus. Touchy.”

“Ugh, Nyx, what the fuck did you want to bring me out for here, anyway? Why am I sitting in a godforsaken Shoney’s choking down this manure? There’s gotta be a reason.”

A feeling like panic crossed Nyx’s face for a split second, but she immediately feigned a noncommittal shrug.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”Alan wiped his mouth with a napkin. The bacon had been greasy and the sausage half cooked and dammit if he wasn’t going to have gas later, but he knew that look and it plainly said “I’m fucking guilty and I don’t want you to know, so I’ll look cute and hope you buy it.”

Alan rolled his eyes.

“Don’t lie to me, Nyx. At least when you fuck up, you have a reason behind your madness. Your cousin rarely gives me that gift. What did you do and how much is it gonna cost to fix it?”

Nyx scowled. “Goddammit, Alan, you’re a prick.”

Alan tapped his foot and stared at her.

“Let’s hear it.”

He saw it even before she did it, the biting of the lip, the downward cast of her eyelashes, the fidgeting of her hands, and he knew if he looked underneath the table, her ankles would be crossed. Alan knew Nyx’s contrite expression down to textbook size, only because she hardly ever showed it.

“Well, it’s not really bad…” Nyx stipulated, and Alan groaned.

“Oh God. When you say that, my nuts shrivel up. Your bad and my bad are completely different. Just tell me.”

“I…made a deal with Christobel.”Alan stared at her.

“About WHAT?!”

Nyx winced.  “Well, you see, it’s…really not a bad thing!”

Alan covered his face in his hands. “Please tell me Shoney’s has tequila. Please, God.”

“It’s to save your ass!” Nyx insisted.“Any deal made between you two has to be approved by the devil, so no, I don’t think that’s true.”

“You want Christobel to stop threatening to out you or not?” Nyx demanded, and Alan looked at her from between his fingers. “Listening.”

Nyx heaved a huge sigh. “Okay, look, it turns out Christobel wants something…”“-shocked…”

Nyx ignored him.

“She wants the one thing you won’t give to her, Alan.”

“A lobotomy?”

Nyx bit her lip. “A baby.”

Alan retched. Bacon and sausage and egg bubbled up in his throat and came dangerously close to evacuating through his mouth. Nyx grimaced and slid her napkin across the table.

“Breathe, please.”“

How the fuck can I?” Alan choked, and Nyx sighed.

“Alan, I did not outright promise her I’d get you to give her a baby. I promised I’d try.”

“Please tell me that this is the hardest you’ll push.”

Nyx shrugged. “Look, if there’s anyone who doesn’t want Christobel to produce a crotch dropping more then you, it’s me. But it’s the only bargaining chip she’d accept.”

“What’s in it for you?”Nyx shrugged, but there was trouble in her eyes. “Just unlimited access to your facilities.”

He shook his head. “I refuse to believe that’s it.”

Nyx bit her lip, clearly torn between confiding in him and keeping the game to herself.

“Alan, she thinks I’m pregnant.”

Oh God. Oh God. If Chris had knocked her up, Alan would kill him. It would seem drastic to some people, but the last thing Nyx ever wanted was to get pregnant. Especially by someone rich, and ESPECIALLY by someone famous.

“Are you?” He whispered, the whole conversation suddenly seeming too obscene, too surreal, for a Shoney’s about to set up for lunch.Nyx looked down at her lap. “I took a test. Just to make sure.”

“AND?!” Alan’s eyes were nearly bugging out of his eyesockets.Nyx shook her head.

“I’m not pregnant, thank God, but Christobel refuses to believe otherwise. She threatened to call the family and tell them so if I didn’t agree to her terms. Christ, Alan, I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to do.”Alan shook his head, his head spinning in relief.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear you’re not pregnant.”Nyx snorted.

“Shit, you! I thought my heart was about to fall out of my chest.”

“What the hell made Christobel think you were pregnant?” Alan wondered out loud, missing Nyx’s gulp. She thought of the pizza and the endless trips to the toilet, the empty trash cans. No way she could tell Alan about any of that. He had enough on his plate as is. She waved her hand dismissively.

“Pfft, you know Christobel. She gets so bored, she starts projecting all over everyone.”Alan stared bleakly at the red booth behind Nyx.

“What am I going to do?” He whispered, and she patted his hand sympathetically.

“Alan, all I can tell you is-don’t jerk off and leave your happy towels lying around.” He laughed, though he really felt like puking.

 “God, I can just imagine her hiding in the closet waiting to accost me and catch my shit in a little test tube.”

Both of them gave a shudder when they pictured that frightening scene.“That’s enough to send me into monkhood, right there.” He said dejectedly, and Nyx chuckled.

“Well, now you know where Lance lives. You could always ‘borrow’ his place.”

Alan flushed and she giggled. “Oh, lighten up. You wouldn’t complain.”He rolled his eyes and threw a napkin at her.

They went quiet for a few seconds, each contemplating their situations.

“How the fuck do I get caught in this family drama?” Alan asked the ceiling, and Nyx’s smile faded.

“I know. I’m sorry, Alan. If you’re not getting fucked over by one of us, it’s the other. When you met me in high school, you should have turned tail and ran.”

He shook his head.

 “Nyx, without you I would have never gotten up the balls to steal from Hot Topic, so, no, I don’t regret meeting you.” She laughed.

“Plus, you’re not a bad lay.” Alan teased, and she gaped at him.

“Fuckhead!”

“Hey, no violence. I’ve had enough of a shitstorm today.” Alan complained, dodging the jelly packet she threw at his head.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cushiony headrest of the booth.

“Fuck, I don’t know. I’m rich, I guess I could pay off a doctor to say my sperm was fucked.”

“Or you could get a vasectomy.” Nyx suggested.

Alan snorted. “God, no. My dad would fucking shit. I have to have kids at SOME point, Nyx, or I’ll end up at that stupid fucking company till I’m dead. Besides…,” He bit his lip. “I WANT kids. Eventually, I mean.”

Nyx’s eyebrows kissed her hairline. “Oh. Wow. WOW.”

"Preferably not with your cousin, but it seems I have no other choice.” He sighed again.“You have a choice, Alan.”

He snickered. “Yeah, what?”

Nyx shrugged. “There are plenty of other women out there who would love to be your wife. Maybe they wouldn’t get a traditional marriage, but you might land one that wasn’t a complete shrew. Preferably with better genetics, too. I can just imagine the expression on your mother’s face if your kid turned out fat.”

Alan snickered. “Great suggestion and all, but if you recall, Christobel also has my balls in the palm of her hand. While any gold-digging shrew would be preferable to her, she could destroy my life, Nyx.”

Nyx snorted. “Honey, I’m dating a celebrity. And the first thing I’ve learned from hanging out with them is the golden rule of being outed-deny, deny, deny. Just because Christobel claims you love the cock doesn’t necessarily make it so, in the eyes of the public. They’d see a jilted ex fiancé pissed over the fact she didn’t inherit the goods. I’ll get Chris or Joey to find you a piece of hot, but not too hot arm candy. Boom. You’re not gay, you’re just too hot to stick to one woman. Happens all the time.”

Alan stared at her. “You are truly diabolical.”

Nyx sniggered. “Not really. I’m disappointed you never thought of it yourself, Mr. Tulane Education.”

Alan stared at her.

“Nyx, you realize if I do that, you go down with me, too.”

Eyebrow up again. “How so?”

“Well, Christobel knows I’m not that diabolical. She already thinks we fuck on a regular basis and she certainly would see that entire ploy as your handiwork. You know what your family would say.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. Alan grabbed her wrist. “Nyx, Chris would find out.”

For the first time, fear softened Nyx Dufrene’s features. “He wouldn’t believe it.” She muttered, but she didn’t sound so sure. Alan tightened his grasp.

“Nyx, you’re not exactly Ms. Discretion back home. Plenty of people would love to sell your story. Shit, they’d out you out for the price of Saints floor seats in a heartbeat. I don’t care what happens to me, but I do not want that to happen to you.” 

“You’ve got more to lose.” Nyx said under her breath.

“Do I?” She shrugged.

“You tell me, Alan. Yeah, I know your life isn’t all it looks to be on the surface, but you’ve got a shot. Sacrifices are a part of that shot. I made my lot in life.”

“Nyx, you get what you get. You get a loving, if pushy family. I get a rich one. You have substance abuse problems, I’m gay. I have to marry for procreation, you might get to marry for love if you plead your case. We have graveyards in both of our closets, but you’ve got the most love in your life, by far. And I can’t let you give that up.”

Nyx bit her lip hard.

 “Alan, it may not be up to you. I’m going to fuck up my life all by my own, okay? I’m halfway there. I’d be getting what I deserve, in the end.”He grasped her hand tighter, desperate to make her understand.

“Nyx, those guys, that day at school, do you ever think about them?”

She visibly stiffened.

“No.”

“You do.” Alan said quietly.

She looked away from him, her chin trembling.

“Would you do what you did for Chris?”

Nyx took a deep breath and looked at their clasped hands.

“I…don’t know.”

“You would. You would do that for anyone who you cared for, no matter how hard you try to be. For Chris, you’d do it in a heartbeat, and I know you’d do it for me or any of your family, even Christobel, if you had to.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Nyx muttered, but Alan ignored her.

“Look, what I’m saying is that-while your love may be hard for people to comprehend, too drastic, too harsh, the truth is that everyone should have someone who loves like you do. I don’t know if it’s you or a Greek thing or what, but you have so much love in your life. That makes your loss so much greater then mine, if things ever got that bad. You know what I’m saying?”

Nyx finally raised her eyes to meet his, and while she wasn’t crying, they were wet.

“S’agapo, Alan.”She whispered.

“S’agapo.”

He squeezed her hands tightly in his.

They stared at each other for a few seconds until, predictably, Nyx broke the moment.

“Gahh, you fuckhead, you made me cry.” Nyx chuckled, wiping her eyes.

“I think I’m the only one who can.” Alan commented dryly, pulling back his hands.Nyx sniggered, but her eyes were faraway.

“So far, Crane. So far.”

Alan didn’t want to touch that one, so he looked down at his watch and groaned.

“Fuck, I have this magazine article thing slash photoshoot crap I’m late for.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Nyx rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s been fun and all.” Alan replied, returning the gesture.

“Well, shit, what am I supposed to do with myself all day?” Nyx complained.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“The headache I have says fuck no.”

He shook his head. “Christ, if it weren’t for the fact that your boss is terrified of you, you’d be fired by now.”

Nyx’s eyes lit up in delight. “Holy crap, he’s actually scared of me?”

“Nyx, he thinks you’re the devil.”

She clapped her hands together like a child on Christmas morning.

 “That is fucking awesome. If I weren’t the poster child for chaste sobriety I’d be at a pub celebrating right now.”

Alan sent her a dark look and she sighed. “Just kidding. What the hell are you doing a photo shoot for?”

Alan scoffed. “We’re one of the Fortune 500 companies and Dad decided to turn all interviews over to me because my face doesn’t look like Jabba the Hutt’s. More responsibility, go me. It’s starting already-in a few months the old man will be sleeping till 3 and I’ll be in the office, jerking off cause I can’t do it at home.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. I think I just puked up a little bit, in my mouth.”

Alan made a face and slapped a twenty dollar bill on the table.

“Come on, can we please get out of here? The food was bad enough but now I’m going to remember this place as the location where all my worst fears came true in one cup of shitty coffee.”

Nyx sighed theatrically. “Oh, woe is Alan.” But she slid out of the booth and followed Alan outside into the bright sunlight.

“So, thanks for dragging me out here.” Alan said teasingly, and Nyx grinned. “I never miss an opportunity to fuck up somebody’s morning.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled her into a hug. “I gotta go. Behave, alright?”

She shrugged. “I’ll try. Let me know if you man up and screw Lance.”

“NYX!”

“Oh, go away.”

She watched him hurry to the Prowler, waved as he backed out, waited till he was out of sight to exhale deeply.In her back pocket, her phone buzzed and she drug it out, not really thinking, already thinking about the bottle of aspirin in her car, the long sleep back at Chris's.

“Hello?”

“Hola, mamacita.”

She closed her eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m thinkin’ tonight we can let you loose. Are you ready?”

Would you do what you did for Chris?

I don’t know.

You would.

Nyx thought of last night; of Chris’s smile against her skin, his lips on her neck. How soft his hair felt between her fingers, how easy it had all seemed to give it up and be somebody else, if even for a moment. She had never known it before, but now it seemed just as easy to love as to hate.

She opened her eyes to the real world. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“Si.”

______________________________________________________________________________Got I got my head but my head is unraveling 
Can't keep control, can't keep track of where it's traveling 
I got my heart but my heart's no good 
You're the only one that's understood 
I come along but I don't know where you're taking me 
I shouldn't go but you’re reaching grabbing shaking me