All year he tried to keep in shape. He swam in the Summer, he ran through town during the Fall, he went to the gym in Winter, and worked in the safety of his own home during the Spring, hiding from the allergies the season would bring. He did everything he could to get in shape and stay that way, but the constant depression of rejection and the disappointment he felt with his own appearance made him get off track, sitting in front of the television with a bucket of ice-cream, or going to McDonald's instead of Subway.
But he managed, and he generally stayed the same weight. He kept his fine ass, his nice legs, his muscles--usually--and of course, his beautiful face. Sure, he was self-centered. But he had to be good lookin' to get someone's number, and not that person people look up and down incredulously and walk away from. Because that sucked.
Like everything else.
See, Steve wasn't a very optimistic guy. He was when things were going his way, he would get hopeful, but then say someone would break up with him and he'd be going downhill from there.
Speaking of downhill, that's what he was on right now, in the literal sense. He had to slow his pace, clear his mind for a moment as he looked around the park he went through every day for the past week and a half. The trees were dead--thank the Heavens--as were all the wretched plants and flowers and bushes that haunted him every time he stepped out during the Green seasons.
He loved that it was chilly, but not too bad, he loved the crunch of the dead leaves under his feet as he made his rounds, and the colors of everything just literally dying in front of him. People asked him why he didn't love Winter because everything was dead. He would answer that Fall was like revenge--he got to see everything suffer and die like the previous seasons did to him.
Every one thought he was crazy, but he really didn't care all that much. He just loved the sheer amount of motivation he had during Autumn, a big part of it just wanting to see everything dying before his eyes.
And also seeing how stylish everyone was in their scarves and coats, color coordinating and bundling up. He loved Summer for the strip downs, but Fall had its charms clothes wise too.
He never had a single inkling that he had a companion running with him every single day for the past two Autumns, though he didn't really care. Said companion had to stop, bending over and panting as he looked up to see Steve jogging off, not even glancing back to him. Well, obviously, he couldn't see him. He was the spirit that brought Autumn to life. He was the thing that represented it.
Well, if this was all true, than Autumn was quite a pouty child. The name he was called by by his companions was Schrader, and he was pouting up a storm when he caught his breath. He stomped his feet in place and shouted out in frustration for a moment, but calmed down quickly. Or rather, got distracted. When his vision left the retreating form of Steve, he found piles of leaves hanging around and couldn't resist jumping into them.
It was one of his favorite things to do. He practically burrowed into the pile, getting pieces of leaf in his blue plaid hoodie and over sized leather jacket, as well as in his hair and pants. He couldn't care less, his positively childish laughter and the want to throw the leaves in the air the only thing he could hear or think at the moment.
That is, until he heard a nearby couple mention the name of the man he jogged with a lot. The guy with the nice butt, Steve. He stopped throwing himself around when he heard it, listening quietly to see if he was hearing things--which wasn't that unlikely--but he heard it again, this time his full name. Steven Blade. He sat up abruptly, leaves falling about him with an almost too serious for his face expression and looked over at the couple, who sat at a bench nearby.
Eavesdropping was one of his most favorite things to do. He knew everyone almost everywhere because he would just sit around--not doing his job--and listen to people gossip, pour their hearts out to their animals, or argue and it was all just so interesting! These two were Susie H. and Daniel S., friends who lived close but not too close to where Steve lived.
"Can you believe him?"
"About what?" the woman laughed, moving her blond hair behind her ear, looking to the man sitting next to her. He seemed distraught.
"About his...tendencies."
She laughed again and nudged him. "You'll have to be more specific about that! Like what, his fashion sense, his family? God forbid his obsession with Fall.." Schrader's mouth tugged into a crooked smile, despite the mocking tone in the woman's voice. He stood in front of them both, hands in his pockets as he watched their faces.
"No, I'm talking about how he gets around."
"What, you mean like with the numbers thing?"
"No, I mean sex."
The woman made an exaggerated 'ohhh' and Schrader frowned. Steve had sex? Wasn't that an intimate thing? Like, that adults did? When they were in love?? STEVE WAS IN LOVE? He brought his hands out his his pockets pouting, trying to wrap his simple mind around that concept. The guy with the nice ass loved someone?
"He was with Stacey last week. Grace before that. The other night I saw him with Bob."
"From 5th floor?"
Daniel nodded and smiled worriedly. Susie frowned, almost disgusted. "Really?" there was an awkward pause and Schrader looked away from them, his expression a tad disgruntled.
Multiple people. And that was only in a couple weeks time..as long as Fall had lasted so far! ANd he had no idea! This guy was...Steve was..
"What a whore."
A whore! There! Schrader nodded and pointed at them passionately, speaking though they couldn't hear him. He was mostly talking to himself anyway. He was muttering quickly to himself, trying to reason that it was okay for people to sleep around, because it was a one-sided friendship to begin with so he shouldn't have any say regardless.
He stopped, however, when their conversation turned to hating on the cold weather and the gloomy colors and how much they hated the holidays--Thanksgiving, oh the JOYS of relatives. And
Halloween? Kids are terrible people. They went on to say that Fall wasn't a real season--something he'd heard too many times to count.
"FALL IS A REAL SEASON!!!"
He had screamed loud enough for it to hurt him, and it was in their faces, but they didn't show any sign of acknowledgement. Like always.
They started laughing, and stood up, continuing with their conversation as they walked off. Tears were in Schrader's eyes now, not sure how to handle the flurry of emotions he was feeling right now.
So he did the only thing he could think of.
Act on impulse.
So he set off down the road, knowing Steve's exact route by heart. It didn't take too long to find him. He was conversing with some guy--probably some guy he was flirting with! Trying to get their numbers!
Schrader couldn't believe how stupid he was.
Himself, not Steve.
Because he put so much love--so many emotions on a guy who was a...a..uh..
A whore. Right! That!
So he got up next to Steve, and shoved him. Tears still in his eyes. He was expecting nothing to happen, that the shove would do nothing like all the times before. Except Steve almost fell over, the man he was talking to looked over at him, and Steve wheeled around, seething. "Dammit kid! What's your fucking problem?"
Schrader felt a lot like a deer on the road when a car came by. He could never remember the saying...something about lights.
The two of them waited in silence, staring at him, well...glaring. Schrader felt himself start to shake as the tears fell down his cheeks. He tried to form words, but they came out slurred. Steve's expression terrified him. He was tearing him apart with his eyes and he couldn't take it.
"I'm sorry! Sorry, sorrysorry!"
He finally got it out, closing his eyes and turned away and started running. He immediately heard sounds of protest, a single 'wait!' and then he blocked the entire thing out of his head.
He ran until his head swam--something he had tried to avoid forever at all costs. He stopped, panting, at a bench, collapsing onto it. He reached up and held onto his head, closing his eyes tightly though tears still escaped. His breathing was labored, but calmed down a little bit as his head cleared up.
He noticed the dry chill in the air, but chose to ignore it. A delicate hand reached down to him, picking a leaf out of his hair, and crushed it. Schrader wiped his face, though with leather it didn't do much. He looked up through blurry vision to see a slightly concerned looking redhead.
"What did you do this time?"
Schrader was silent, but he sat himself up. The man sat next to him, and he muttered "I was seen."
"By who?"
Schrader glanced at the man next to him known to most as Winter, but he knew him as Zelder. His breathing was quick, but he didn't have to say anything for Zelder to understand he'd been seen by his 'favorite person'.
Zelder moved a hand and patted Schrader on the back. "You and your powers are erratic. Uncontrollable." Schrader glanced at Zelder pitifully, but Zelder smirked. "Like a child." he pouted, "But just like a child, there's a way to learn, and grow as a person. You'll get the hang of it." he paused, looking down the road slightly.
Schrader sunk in his seat, whining. "I'm so tired though..exhausted..so much that it hurts." Zelder turned back to him to see that he was crying again, though it was soft this time, and he truly did look to be in some kind of pain. "I don't--I cant do this Zelder, it hurts just thinking about it...can Winter come early?" He narrowed his eyes, "But Schrader, it's only bee two weeks of Autumn.." Schrader whined and held himself tightly, as if his words physically hurt him. Zelder went to speak again, but the sound of footfalls made him stop completely, moving off of the bench altogether. He moved behind it and watched as Steve ran up, paused and almost slipped as he ran up to Schrader.
"Hey, kid! Kid!"
Schrader shot up, terrified again but frozen.
"Dude, why'd you run?? I mean if you have some kind of beef with me I"
He went on and on about some assumption he had about him--someone he fucked's little brother or something. But Schrader didn't care by now. He just wanted to get out. To go rest, to be done with all the emotions and all the confusion and all the pain today caused. So he turned and tried to run, but Steve wasn't having any of that this time. He grabbed his wrist and kept him there.
"Where are you going now!? Stay here and talk to me like a man! Or are you chicken!?" He had to admit though, this kid was putting up a fight for someone so stringy. He tugged roughly, almost smiling at the force he was putting up and his small whining. "You can dish it out but you can't take it, huh? How would you like to be shoved out of no where?" he only felt a little guilty. He had no intention to shove the kid, he just wanted an explanation.
Zelder didn't like this guy at all. For someone Schrader admired and looked to every day...he was a royal jerkface. Bullying little Schrader like that? He thought Fall was his favorite season. Ha!
Schrader turned and twisted his wrist, trying to break free, but the motions and the pulling only succeeded in getting his arm out of his sleeve, which revealed one interesting thing for Steve. He went for it too, and with a small satisfying rip, he stumbled back lightly while the kid fell onto his back, slowly covering his face to hide his tears.
Larundel Psychiatric Hospital, Bundoora, VIC 3083
Name: William Buddy Schrader DOB: 14/10/1918
Admitted: 20/05/1929 Condition: Schizophrenic
Zelder's by Schrader's side now, trying to sooth him, coax him to get up now. Which he did, and reached for his wristband with aggression, but he was being pushed away.
"Schizophrenia, huh? Well, Mr. Crazy William. I don't know anyone with your last name, so I can't say why you'd have a problem with me." He went on to talk while Zelder called him foul things next to him. Schrader came to agree that Steve B. with the nice butt was as far from his favorite at the moment. So he backed up and ran off as fast as his feet would allow, which was surprisingly fast. Steve actually lost him, and was at a loss for words at this. He also felt terrible, about this kid of course. Not because Zelder spit in his face. Because he couldn't see or feel that.
When Steve got home, he taped the wristband back together. It was only then that he realized exactly what it said. According to this, that kid shouldn't be alive right now. Or, if he was, he should have been an ancient, wrinkly old man. Not the wobbly wide-eyed kid--err, guy he saw that day. But he sighed in defeat, unsure of what to do besides give it back.
In the morning, it snowed. It practically blizzard'd all night. Steve almost screamed at the window in anger, but he couldn't just not go running. It was still technically Fall. So he dressed warmer than he usually did, put the weird wristband on and went on his run.
He didn't see the kid anywhere. By the end of his run, he stopped to ask a few people. No one knew what he was talking about.
Every day for the next week it snowed, and he kept running, shivering in his boots but stopping to ask more and more people. About a messy haired, wide-eyed guy that looked young, had dark lines under his eyes and terrible fashion sense. But still, he came up short.
It was only when he started showing people the wristband that he got some answers. Still no one had seen him, but there were a few who suggested the library, for internet use and books to look up this guy. One person thought he'd seen a ghost, and that put weird ideas in his head.
So one day, after his run, he went to the library. He tried to look for a book about it but he didn't know where to look, and he was too impatient, so he gave up quickly and went to one of the computers. He spent three hours there, looking things up about the hospital and other things.
He did find him, though. In some weird archive thing. His name, plain as day. So the wristband wasn't handmade. He tried to click on the name to get more information, but his heart practically stopped.
He'd had his face close to the screen, and he definitely saw someone behind him, glaring. But when he turned around, there was no one there, and when he turned back, the screen had frost on it, covering the whole thing. He stood up and left the library, feeling too spooked to chase this anymore.
Today, anyway.
