ＣＨＡＲＣＯＡＬ ／ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗˢ

mason wasn’t sure how a building that big could make him feel suffocated.   maybe he should start drinking again…   but that was a conversation for another night.   people not giving him a second glance,   strangers he’ll probably never talk to,   the noise so loud he couldn’t pinpoint anything;   all of it was too much,   among other things,   that he needed a break.   he wanted out,   but didn’t want to burden anybody with knowing he was leaving,   so he just walked out.   the instant he was outside of it all,   he felt the weight lift from his shoulders,   could finally think straight.   noticed the familiar figure sitting on the steps,   inquisition written on his face even if the other’s head was buried.   ❛   you’re fine.   ❜   he said at first before feet dropped on the steps beside him,   still standing as he asked:   ❛   hey,   uh.   are you good ?   do you need anything ?   ❜

          that he still desperately needs to blackout is his first thought --- and then he feels minorly bad for having it. a beat passes before noah finally does lift his head from his arms, because he feels like he recognizes that voice and would love to be WRONG ( needs to be wrong because the last thing he wants to be fucking doing right now is talking to kie's new whatever --- drunk, sober, anything ). he's not wrong, sadly. it takes him a moment to focus in the far off glow of the streetlights, but it's that red head --the alcohol in his veins makes him slow-- mason, that's it. somehow attaching the name doesn't make it much BETTER.      " nah 'm fine --- "      he says, syllables bit slurred together. it's IRONIC really, if he thinks too much about it. a laugh bubbles up inside him, bitter by the time it makes it out to mingle with the muffled sounds of the party still trapped within the house.      " --- absolutely FINE. "

        fin hated parties. that was a fact. had always hated the idea of a bunch of people getting together to just get drunk. had a hard time finding it fun  &  enjoyable. that was until he got around the right people. still wasn’t his favorite past time  ,  but ever since spring break he was a little more open to at least bringing himself to the party  &  trying to have fun. he didn’t want to drink but somehow  ,  encapsulated by his own feelings  ,  decided to take just a few shots  &  now here he was  –––  drunk  &  seemingly in a great mood because he wasn’t worrying about anything. truthfully  ,  he should’ve just stay home with his paints or something other than dragging himself to a frat house. he had finals to worry about. he had tons of things to worry about. but currently  ,  he was worrying only about the song that was playing and maybe that was okay. he could worry about anything else later.

        he knows he shouldn’t be after more shots. knows that he’s had enough but he can’t help it. after running into a specific someone he was ready to have more. ready to just deal with the hangover in the morning. lingers his way into the kitchen  ,  happy to get away from the people. happy to get away from the noise. drunk or not  ,  could still feel the beat of the bass in his chest hard and heavily. even in the kitchen  ,  it’s just as loud but his mind is distracted when eyes settle on noah. someone familiar. someone he’s comfortable around.  “  nah. just take the bottle.  ”  shoulders shrug  ,  his own state evident in his voice despite him trying to see completely put together.  “  are you having a good time or should you trying to finish off a bottle of alcohol tell me that you’re not ?  ”

          noah is more than sober enough to tell that fin is definitely NOT --- but at least this time the advice of a drunk man sounds pretty damn appealing right now. his fingers wrap around the glass neck of the bottle, liquor sloshing around as he examines how much is left. it's too hard to really tell, even though the harsh florescent lighting in the kitchen is pretty still the best in the house right now ; he supposes it doesn't really matter. it BURNS in all the right ways, distracting and all consuming on its way down his throat where it settles in his stomach, faux warmth spreading down his limbs. the bottle makes a loud clink with the counter as he puts it back down, fingers still gripped loosely around it.

          it's definitely the latter, and fin can probably tell --- or at least sober fin probably could. noah isn't so sure about drunk fin --- it doesn't matter. so very LITTLE feels like it matters right now. time, thoughts, feelings slip through his fingers too fast for him to catch --- he's fine with that. he didn't come to the kitchen to talk about his feelings ; he came here to figure out a way to get rid of them. forgetting would be NICE.      " ---- does it really matter ?? "      he fixes fin in a gaze, takes another long pull from the bottle,      " ---- you ?? having the TIME of your life ?? dying before we all actually die from the stress of FINALS ?? "

          the night air is cool against his skin, a blessed relief from the inside of the frat house. his senses always felt more HEIGHTENED when he was inebriated, and now is not different. he’d wanted an escape from the claustrophobic feeling within ( still looking for an escape from the claustrophobic feeling of his heart --- the vodka hadn’t helped ; he should probably stop drinking it ). he should probably get back to his apartment too ---- it’s getting LATE, and he’s getting STUPIDER. he doesn’t get much farther than the front steps tho, all but collapsing down on them a couple up from the sidewalk ( off to the side near the railing, though --- considerate even when sloshed ). he more feels the hears the wood creak in tell-tale sign of someone else making their way down. he’s got his eyes closed, head pillowed on his arms across his knees.     “ ------ ‘m i in your way ? ”

          he shouldn’t be here ---- noah feels it the moment he steps over the threshold of the frat house, floorboards trembling with the pulse of base beneath his feet. it’s too much like it had been then , identical down to the same loud, crappy music, cheap alcohol and faces flickering in and out of shadow and light. it feels a bit like an ABSTRACT painting --- something he files away for later as he pushes through in search of drinks. when twenty minutes and two drinks don’t even make the feeling go away, and he nurses his third and passes time in a blur of pressing, sweaty bodies. getting passed BUZZED never really appealed to him --- blacking out certainly didn’t either ; as free as creative license is, remaining in full control of his faculties remained important. it’s an opinion that hasn’t been changed MUCH --- until now. 

          he shouldn’t be surprised, really ; all the facts add up to an easy equation : this is kie’s frat , kie gets affectionate, braver when drunk , noah certainly has no claim in this equation anymore. still it settles uneasy and bitter in him, and he suddenly gets the overwhelming urge to get very, very drunk. he doesn’t LINGER --- he’s not stupid enough for that --- instead turns and pushes back in the direction of the kitchen in search of vodka. he gets turned around, loses time in another throng of jumping bodies. by the time he makes it to his destination, he’s lost who knows how much time and his cup somewhere along the way. he rattles through one of the cabinets in search of a replacement when he hears company through the lizzo blaring throughout the entire house.       “ ----- should i even BOTHER looking for more cups ?? ”       he asks, pushing aside a stack of paper plates, back still to the newcomer.      “ or do you think anyone will care if i make off with the rest of the bottle. ”

no matter how much time had passed kieran knew that he would never be ready to face noah. after all he was nothing but a coward who couldn’t even accept himself without having a few shots first. he had gone this far without seeing noah and he thought he was in the clear , he did too many clubs to stay in one place for too long and even when he went to vegas he didn’t see noah , even though he had thought about him. but noah wasn’t any of his concern anymore and he needed to stop doing that. but if that was the case why did his heart ache looking at the man he once said he loved ?? kieran tried so hard to not want noah or any male ever for that matter but his head wanted love more than anything even if his head knew that that was a bad idea. being a big fake was exhausting , it wore kieran down sometimes and noah was the only one he had ever let in on that part of him. so he’s not sure why he keeps a bright smile on his face as he listens to the other male. noah knows that he’s miserable on the inside , screaming to let himself out. but kie knew that would never happen. he looked noah over a few times , checking him out. 

kieran wishes he could be soft all the time , he wishes he could be soft and not feel weak. he loved who he was when he was in love with noah , when he was really happy. he wants that person back but he doesn’t want to hurt anyone else again. he misses noah , he misses having someone to come home too , arms wrapped around him , a kiss on the cheek. it all makes kieran incredibly sad. “ oh , thank you !! yeah , it was pretty good. all of my uncles tip really helped me out this season. thank you again. ” he sounds so scripted. like he says that to everyone who compliments his season … he might. “ yeah , all the meetings are really taking up all my extra time. i barely have time to breathe. ” he pauses for a minute before speaking. “ how’s your art going ?? ” he asks , his tone softer. 

          there's no way to say i still see your face in every blank canvas that doesn't come across the synonymous with i miss you, so noah lies instead. the TRUTH can be harsh sometimes --- it's hard to tell who's really holding the knife here, twisting it deeper the longer this goes on ( maybe they both are ).     " fine. as well as it can ---- "     he shrugs,     " ---- slower than it should, probably, but what else is new. "     it wasn't like last year's final projects had been explicitly kie related, either ( save for ONE, an abstract piece based on EMOTION ). no great artist drew inspiration from just one thing, anyway ; and plenty of great artists drew inspiration from heartbreak and pain, too. noah just hasn't found a way to channel that yet, even now, even after all this time. he knows he's been stupid to WAIT ( even if he won't admit to himself that's exactly what's happening ), to think that maybe things would change once again. why would they ? ( maybe letting go felt like giving up on someone he loved ). he wants to hope ; he so desperately wants to HOPE ( but maybe what he NEEDS is closure ).

          he can feel the jagged edge of the crumpled drawing against his finger in his pocket, the weight of kie's gaze and the shackles of that god-forsaken fake smile.     " kie ---- "     the syllable feels heavy against his tongue, his heart feels heavy in his chest, silence stretches on in burdened beats. he doesn't know what he meant to say, maybe just wanted to say his name again.     did you mean it ? do you miss me ? did any of it amount to anything ?     none of it gets said, each selfish question rising and falling away.     are you happy ?     more than anything, he wants kie to be happy --- truly happy ; not this facade placed in front of him like he's never had the fortune to see behind it.     " ---- don't run yourself ragged, okay ? "     he says finally. maybe it comes out too concerned. and he knows it’s not his place to be concerned. not anymore.

             “  hm.  ”  actually think about what he said.  “  you’re right. i have been feeling a little anxious lately.  so  ,  maybe i just need the day. didn’t feel like sitting in class with my own thoughts for almost two hours.  ”  explains softly  ,  eyes fixated on the small doodles that he was drawing on his paper. wasn’t really sure what he was drawing  ,  but just let his pencil drift over the paper of his sketch book. won’t look at noah right now. in fact  ,  would rather look at anything else.  “  it’s weird. i get anxious and it makes me not want to go to class. but then not going makes me more anxious. kinda messed up circle of mental health  ,  isn’t it  ?  ”  doesn’t usually talk to people about his tangle with anxiety  ,  but noah’s vibe made it easy to talk to him.  “  kind of.  ”  he muses softly.  “  my muse has been a little stuck  ,  you know  ?  i shouldn’t have taken a minor and just focused on physiology.  ”  it’s a joke  ,  truly. fin typically enjoyed school  &  enjoyed the major choices that he picked. however  ,  it got a little overwhelming sometimes.  “  but i’m getting there  ,  you know  ? what about you  –––  everything going good  ?  ”

          this is familiar. the feeling of charcoal against his skin, the wash of words of someone who just needed to be listened to. he can't empathize with fin, but he can sympathize. any reassuring words elude him, a hum of agreement his extended token instead as he shades in the curves of fin's face.     " not GREAT, if i'm being honest --- but like you said, they'll get there. they always DO in the end. "     and everything always happened for a reason, right ? it was a WONDER he still hadn't learned by now, but it's like fin said about circles and cycles --- that's the thing, they're so hard to break sometimes. but he can do his small part. he drops the nub of charcoal back into its tin with a quiet rattle, his sketchbook flipped closed, hiding fin's profile in smokey lines away between the pages. his fingertips are dark and he wipes them off as best he can against his jeans.     " ---- you wanna go get ice cream ? i heard they switched custard flavors at that place down by the pier. i've been dying to try it out. "

          the telltale click of heels cuts loud and clear through his earbuds --it’s not surprising, they’ve seen better days ; he really ought to invest in a new pair-- but noah hardly glances up from his work. he’s counting every second of every day right now, not yet panicking but possibly getting close to it. he’s TOLD art can’t be rushed, but clearly they never talked to an art major before they said that. “ just gimme a sec --- i’ll be done in ---- ” he pauses before he finishes that, because to say he’d be DONE soon is in fact a lie. his paintbrush hovers before its canvas before he is twisting, the other one tucked behind his ear wobbling precariously though it stays in place as he does fix her in a stare. “ ---- are you early ? did you text me ? ”

            “  you’re welcome.  ”  lets out a soft laugh  &  doesn’t even notice that he’s already started to sketch. tried not to look  ,  because then he’d be too nervous to see what noah was sketching. was nervous to see how he was perceived. to see what he looked like on paper according to noah’s art. thought that the others art was too good to be wasted on him but he wasn’t going to complain. would just let him draw  &  not think about it. keeps his gaze away  ,  head tilted down with curls falling into his face.  not really sure what he’s drawing. doesn’t think about it.  “  no.  ”  says it simply  ,  and then looks up  ––  not at him  ,  but away from his sketchbook.  “  well. i don’t know. i’m just not really feeling it. i don’t know why  ,  but it’s the first time i literally just could not handle being in class. do you ever feel like that  ?  ”  simply just did not want to deal with it  ,  but fin wondered if subconsciously there was another reason. maybe there was  ,  he hadn’t even realized it yet. maybe it was because his mind wandered too much in class. 

          the rasp of charcoal against paper picks up again, a pause to smudge together some shading every now and then. noah shrugs, the movement accompanied with a noncommittal noise. " everyone gets the urge to skip class every now and then ---- some people just tend to act on it more than most. you just have to be honest with yourself, i think. it's easy to let a mental health day turn into a mental health week you never recover from. " gaze flickers over to fin, takes in his profile, the messy frame of curls against the sunlight. it's an inspiring sight, no matter what fin likes to think about himself. he does has a point, maybe, muses noah to himself. there always was something intimate about capturing someone down in lines. this is just friendly though, comforting in a way. " ------ you making progress on your final projects ? " he asks finally, because he can feel the time crunch getting tighter for sure. call it lack of MUSE or MOTIVATION --- it's hard to tell which one these days.

Romeo didn’t want to be forking out another couple of hundreds of dollars to get this piece of shit working again. It was beginning to get on his last nerve. He’d already spent way too much on it. “Fuck, man. I swear this car is going to the death of me. I spend so much money on this shit.” Romeo listened to Noah’s advice. He was going to have to find someone to take a look at it. Maybe asking someone to help do it at a discount could be useful. A favor even more so. Romeo’s gaze went over to Noah. “What kind of favors do you think they’ll ask? I’m almost willing to do anything if it saves me some coin.”

          noah shrugs, “ dunno, really ---- it was just an idea. just poke around your connections ; someone’s gotta know a willing mechanic in training. ” someone like romeo would likely turn up someone more than willing, of that he was nearly certain, though he doesn’t say it. “ ----- no one on your team’s into cars ? ” so maybe now he’s being a bit stereotypical there, but he can’t help it ( or doesn’t feel like it in the moment ). another glance at the broke down car, another quiet tussle with his inner conscience and then, “ my car’s just over there if you want a ride back to campus. ”

esther raises her eyebrows a little, an amused grin pulling at her lips, “most? that’s pretty dark! like… how?” her mind races with all the possibilities and she tries to stop herself so that she can participate in this conversation rather than get lost in her practically always jumbled brain, “maybe the school’s built over old cemeteries or somethin’, ya know? they used to pull that shit all the time when building stuff!” 

          okay so that sounded a little dumb when put until the lens of LOGIC, but not every sentence can be a winner. “ dunno -------- let me know if you find anything of that sort out, though ---- ” the building has probably been as captured as it wants to be, or at least noah is done trying to capture its likeness. ghost stories sounds marginally more interesting at the moment. “ so did you ever figure out if the biomedical computer lab was actually haunted ?? or was it just a couple students up to no good. ”

kieran can see it all over noah’s face – everything that he did to him , how much he was still hurting. it made kieran feel like shit , but in his head he knew it was what needed to be done. he wasn’t trying to be the gay friend , gay football player , the gay anything. so he couldn’t have noah around , he couldn’t have a life with noah that wasn’t a secret and the other male deserved way better than that shit. kieran keeps his big smile plastered onto his face , trying not to show anyone who might be around or might pop up that he’s hurting. he knows noah knows him better than anyone else , even more than his own mother does. of course he loved noah , and maybe that’s why he had ended things the way that he did in the first place. so cold , so distant. “ yeah , finals coming up , i get how it can be. ” he remembers last year , sitting with noah while he worked on his finals , sitting in his lap while he tried to draw and trying to distract the other. “ it’s been pretty hectic for me , lots of things to do. lots of meetings to attend. ” he tries to keep the convo going because part of him , the part that wants noah , could stand here and talk to him forever. 

          noah KNEW he wasn't really ready for this --- that's why they'd talked so little. that and it was easy to avoid kie ; it wasn't like their classes overlapped, nor their hobbies. there was a wall of windows in the studio that overlooked the practice field though ; noah tried his best to sit with his back to them. it'd be a LIE to say he didn't want kie back --- but he wasn't the manipulative type. kie's choices were his own, even if they got noah hurt in the process. the urge to reach out for him that washes over him is so strong though, that careful logic slowly going out the window with him right there. so real, so uncaring. instead, he shoves his traitorous hands into his sweatpants pockets before he does anything stupid.

          his gaze finally lifts back to take in the planes of kie's face, wide plastered smile and all. it reminds him of the people who know they're being drawn : fake, posed, the exterior they want people to see. noah's seen a lot of that kie this year, all from far away. he misses the one with the softer edges, kinder smiles, and gentle touches. he misses him. period. and he decides as painful as this might be, it's better than nothing. " you had a good season --- " he concedes finally, tone softer even as he bites back the second part where he adds i'm proud of you because that wouldn't certainly come across the right way. " been up to a lot else, i guess ? if you have all those meetings and all. "

sometimes kieran wondered why he even joined so many clubs , yeah his mom wanted him to be more active in something more than just sports and frat parties but sometimes it was just too much. he wasn’t the strongest student and sometimes it showed , but for the most part he had b’s in most of his classes except for one but math is really hard. he should have some more free time now with football season over . he thinks about last year a lot , how this time he was spending his mornings with noah , rubbing his fingers along the other males face and watching him while he slept in. maybe that was why he was doing so much this year. no distraction. which was good. he didn’t need any distractions. he’s too in his head because he almost hits right into someone — not just someone. the boy who had just been on his mind of all people. “ hey , bro !! ” he smiles , putting on his best and warmest smile. “ what’s up ?? ” kie is fake and he knows it , knows noah wants nothing to do with him with how he ended things but he has a imaginary kieran to keep up , the always friendly and never sad or upset kieran.

          the conversation has barely started but noah already feels exhausted by it. it’s harder to pretend everything is fine when kie is this close, though kie seems to be doing an admirable job at it ; he wonders if he finds it exhausting to pretend too. he’d half expected kie to pretend to not know him at all, this might be worse though — he’s not sure. how do you forget someone you cared so much for once ( someone he STILL does, even if he wished he didn’t ). there’s so much he wants to tell him : that the fern he got for his last birthday is still flourishing on his kitchen counter, his mother had sent a package of cookies kie had liked so much, he finally finished the half-completed oil painting of kie one only because he was a little more drunk than he’d like to admit. “ not much — “ he says instead finally. “ — lot of final projects to finish.” noah doesn’t smile because kie doesn’t deserve that and he doesn’t have a reputation to uphold. and he certainly doesn’t think about last year — dawn light streaming in through his windows as he worked to finish everything in time, turning on the coffee maker before crawling into bed with kie. his heart constricts a little, and he avoids kie’s gaze. the discarded drawing is still gripped too tight in his hands and it’s a bit poetic if you think about it like that : his refusal to let it go just like the boy in front of him.

                “  oh.  oh  ,  okay. so what you’re saying is  .  .  . i should skip  ?  ”  not sure why it’s up to noah to decide if he should or not  ,  but he’s putting his faith in him  &  can only assume that the answer is yes.  decides that he should get out his own sketchbook. not sure what he’s going to sketch  ,  but it only seems appropriate. maybe he’d add another sketch of noah to the pages  –––  both current  &  old sketchbooks not being strangers to the pencil sketches of the others face. despite having originally wanted to go somewhere  ,  there was something comfortable sitting here with noah  ,  scanning the quad as he watches people actually go to class. feels guilty for a second  ,  expression turning into a frown. feels like he should go  &  then looks at noah  & decides against it. they’re already here  ,  he’s already about to draw. it’s just one class.  “ you can draw me if you want to. ” says finally  ,  confident that if he focuses enough  ,  he won’t even notice.  “ just this one time  ,  though.  ”

          placated that fin isn’t going to run off --not that he’d really do anything about it, but everyone deserves a little break sometimes-- noah roots around briefly in his ever-present leather bag, eventually pulling out the battered tin that holds his charcoal. “ hmmmm, yeah --- thanks for the permission, ” noah says, a tad distracted as he’s already started the light sweeping strokes to map out the proper proportions. it’s not the first time though ; likely not the last either, not that fin needs to know that. it’s relaxing work, fingers and hand moving of almost its own accord to capture something right in front of him ( something he is admittedly already familiar with ). it allows his mind to wonder even as fin’s face starts to appear from among charcoal streaks and curling lines. though when it lands on something he doesn’t want to be pondering anymore, he pauses, the soft snitch of charcoal against paper coming to a stop. “ so ---- any REAL reason you wanted to skip class ? ”

“which shade of red?” she questioned the other as she held out two almost identical lipstick tubes. the only difference? one was named ‘scarlet’ and the other ‘ruby’. 

          “ uh --- ” noah pauses from almost FURIOUS scribbling. he has a final painting due in ---well, FAR too soon, and he’d left it too late yet again. he doesn’t even have any real concept for it yet. as far as the lipsticks go, there might be a difference between them, but he can’t tell, at least in this light. “ go --- uh --- ” he gestures vaguely, “ go by the names --- whatever one vibes with you better. ”

Romeo didn’t know how to fix cars. It was not something he thought he might need to know.  “Yeah! It just stopped in the middle of the road. Some random people helped me push it over to the side so that it wouldn’t get in the way of any incoming traffic.” Romeo didn’t want his problem to burden other peoples travels too. It was embarrassing enough to have broke down. He ran a hand through his dirty block locks in frustration. He was going to sell this piece of junk soon. Romeo was sick to death of the problems it caused him. “Does that mean I’m going to have to call someone out to help me fix it? I swear I’ve spent like four hundred dollars on it this month.”

          noah shrugs, staring but not quite seeing the engine beneath the hood as he tries to remember anything that might be useful. he gets it ; it wasn’t that long ago he’d been driving a piece of shit too --- at least until his brother had given him a rather pricey birthday present and breaking down was no longer a thing on his mind.           “ could be as simple as needing a new battery --- could be more than that --- ”           he says finally when nothing really helpful comes to mind.           “ --- dunno, sorry. you could probably poke around the mech e department, though. cars are like, their thing right ? you might find someone who’d be willing to look at it for a discount. or a favor. ”

             “  but i can’t commit to something i’m not supposed to do that easily  ,  you know what i mean  ?  ”  it was the guilt  ,  regardless of not being a big deal.  “  i don’t know. i’m just tired today and if i have to hear about another painting from the baroque period  ,  i might scream.  not that i don’t love art i just  .  .  .  ”  lets out a sigh  ,  shaking his head.  “  i don’t know. you don’t think i should skip  ?  ”  muses the question out softly , meeting noah’s gaze. soft laugh leaves his lips.  “  hm. that is a good excuse  ,  but are you actually gonna draw me  ?  you know that i get nervous being that one that’s drawn opposed to actually doing to drawing.  ”  it was true. loves drawing friends  ,  but never wanted to be the subject. didn’t think he was good enough.  

          “ never said that, ” he clarifies. “ too nice of a day to spend it inside wasting away listening to stevens drone on, anyway. ” he makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. noah does know about fin’s preferences, which is why he rarely asks anyone permission before he goes about doing his thing. people tend to get too stiff when they KNOW --- posed, disingenuous, a campaign smile ; he’d always liked people when they were messier, flawed, unaware, candid. there are sketches of fin behind the counter at smithies from freshman year that he still doesn’t know about in a notebook noah filled ages ago and filed with the others on his bookshelf. “ dunno ---- ” says noah, even as he’s flipping open the sketchbook in his lap to a new page. he makes a show of scanning the rapidly emptying quad. “ ---- maybe someone else’ll catch my eye instead. ”