C19 Confessions of Kailan

It was funny.

Music was supposed to 'soothe the mind', wasn't it? Music 'relaxes the body', 'lifts the spirit'. For some, it helps them focus. For others, it helps them sleep.

But for Vincent, this music was a punishment.

It wasn't soothing, or relaxing, and he wasn't drifting into a blissful slumber—it was a loud, rattling throng of jackhammers that beat away at his sinuses until he felt a rush of vertigo hit him like a cyclone wind. He nearly had to grip the counter to keep himself upright.

Loud music had never bothered him before, but something was different this time. A sound was rolling about in the walls of his skull, shrill and taut and awful. But it didn't seem to be bothering anyone else. All of the other guests at the party were socializing and dancing; laughing and drinking. It was only Vincent cradling his crown like it might split in two.

He kneaded circles into his forehead, pleading his headache to wash away with the next shot of vodka. And yet, no matter how he drank, every shiver of bass was drilling through his bones; screaming at him, lecturing him like the know-better brother he'd never had.

Then again, that had always been Kailan's job. Kailan, who slapped him with rulers during tutoring. Kailan who crept under the radar with his 4.0 GPA. Kailan, who was currently thirty-feet away, trapped in the hungry eyes of four ravishing young women.

"So you're new here, Kailan?" Vincent heard one of the women inquire, her fingers twirled about, twisting innocently through the silky tresses of his hair.

Why had he brought Kai along, anyways? The whole purpose of coming was to find Gigi, but they'd been there nearly an hour and she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Kailan had been lured away by sirens, who were fawning over him relentlessly, fluttering about like moths to a lamppost.

That was when the headaches began.

"What happened to your lip, sweetheart?" one asked, edging closer on the couch and pouting as she delicately brushed against the wound from the night before. Kailan leaned away from the affections, but hid his discomfort with a smile.

"That's the third time she's tried to touch him," Vinny noted, taking a peanut from a bowl nearby and un-shelling it between his fingers. He wouldn't eat it, but it'd soothe his fidgeting—which had grown more and more demanding every time Kailan flinched away from a set of dainty acrylic claws. Just then, one of the women brushed down Kailan's arm, and the boy tensed visibly.

He doesn't like being touched. He doesn't like being touched, so stop fucking touching him. The shell crushed between Vincent's fingers.

He was watching them from his spot in the next room over, tipping back jello-shots like they were breath mints. He hadn't intended to drink tonight. His goal was to find Gigi, get some answers, and leave this whole mess behind him--but that plan went down the shitter the second she turned out to be a no-show. Now he was waiting. Waiting for Kailan to break from his conversation, waiting for Jeff to get back to him with word on Gigi, waiting for someone to turn down the goddamn music.

"Oh my god, your hair is so soft," he could hear the shrilly admiration. "No, seriously, I'm envious." Kailan seemed a bit uncomfortable with the pampering, but his smile was lively as ever, and he spared Vinny only a glance before he found his way back to the conversation.

As for Vincent, he was itching—every bit of him. Anxious and edgy, like he'd fallen into a pit of spiders and he couldn't shake the crawly feeling from his flesh. It was partially due to Kailan ditching him to fraternize with the upperclassmen, partially due to the fact that he'd stolen Vinny's glory right out from under him, but mostly due to something else entirely; a strange cryptic feeling, spiced with a soupçon of déjà vu. One that Vincent didn't quite understand.

The sugar from the jello was irritating the lining of his throat, and Vincent broke into a coughing fit. To combat it, he tossed back another shot of vodka. Then another and another, and by the time he'd poisoned himself five-times over, a breathy voice brushed against his ear: "You look tense."

He recognized it immediately. It didn't take a glance in her direction to know it was Gigi. He could hear it in the modulated tone of her voice.

"What's the matter, handsome?" The music suddenly seemed so quiet, her smoky purr teasing his ears with it's husky, sensual tone. "Ahh, I see." She nested her high cheekbone against his shoulder, trailing his gaze to Kailan in the other room. "That's your friend, isn't it?"

Vincent swallowed the bitter contents in his throat, watching as the girls pampered the unwavering Kailan. He didn't look to be enjoying it, but he didn't seem to hate it either.

"Jealous?" Gigi asked.

"No," Vinny addressed her sternly, then he looked between the women for a brief amount of time. He'd seen them once before, but they were nothing special. "They aren't my type."

"I didn't ask if you were jealous of Kailan."

That's when Vincent froze. Then he turned to face Gigi. "How do you know his name—"

But she was gone.

He searched the crowd around him for the longest time, grabbing one brunette after another, only to find himself gaped at by unrecognizable faces. Eventually, he came to accept that she'd left the party—slithered away at a moment's notice, or disappeared into thin air. However she'd gotten away, it didn't matter now. She was gone, and this made one too many times that she so conveniently flown off the radar when Vincent had so many questions to ask her.

He sighed, and swiped a bottle from nearby, taking a swig straight from the neck. There was no sense in returning it to the table; it was nearly empty anyways, so he carried it with him as he edged through a bustling pit of people.

Most of the room was lost in a rhythmic dance, a throng of women grinding against one another, bare skin and smeared lipstick. Vincent had gotten so used to the college scene, he hardly noticed anymore. That, or maybe there were just one too many things on his mind.

"Vinny!" he heard his name called by one of the women he passed, but he acknowledged her about as much as the floorboards beneath his feet.

He needed a cigarette.

He pushed through bodies until he found the back door. Stepping through the sliding-glass, he found himself standing on a nearly-vacant patio. A few yards away, two girls perched themselves at the edge of the pool, kicking at the surface and passing sweet little secrets to one another. Other than them, he was entirely alone. It felt peaceful, liberated from the music at last. He slotted a cigarette between his lips and took a hunched seat on the bottom step.

Before he could even attempt—and fail—at lighting it, Kailan had stepped out of the house beside him, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. "Need a hand with that?"

He didn't seem to be really focused on Vinny though, he was staring into the distance, tracing the raised, disfigured skin on his palm. When Vinny passed him the cancer-stick, Kailan blinked, slow and curious. If he didn't know any better, he would have just assumed this was any one of Vinny's trivial smoke breaks, but Kailan knew his friend like the back of his hand. Almost. At least, enough to spot the wanly look in his eyes when something was wrong.

"You alright?" he asked, no taunting smiles or mischievous glances. Only a genuine concern that stuck his gaze on Vinny indefinitely.

Vinny's attention was cast on the rippling waves of the swimming-water. "I'm fine," he said, but his head was a mess with the shouts of his thoughts, and the headache smacking against his temples was yelling at him loudest of all. He hushed them all with the shake of his head. "You should be back in there. Those girls were eating you up."

Kailan snorted, sparking up the cigarette and passing it back to Vinny. He wasn't a smoker, but after all the times he'd lit one since his return, it was starting to feel organic.

"They aren't exactly my type," he said with a chuckle. He took a seat next to Vinny, and watched as he filled his lungs with nicotine. "Why?" he taunted. "Are you angry that they weren't actually paying attention to you once?"

The end of Vincent's cigarette crackled and illuminated and he withdrew it from his lips with a smoky exhale. "Let's go with that." He didn't think Kailan would settle for the truth; he had no idea why he was so angry, he just was. "Your type, then?"

He knew full well that he should be monitoring the party had Gigi shown, but the fact of the matter was that he didn't want Kailan to leave. The question was only a resort to keeping him around a bit longer. So he gestured to the girls, who giggled in one another's ears, their dainty toes barely touching the surface of the water, and asked, "How about them?"

Kailan ran a hand through his hair, still warm from the touch of the women he'd met earlier. He felt himself frown as he watched the girls. They were cute—innocent in comparison to what he'd seen in the party, but Kailan felt nothing towards them. He never did.

He was only entranced by the shallow webs of water, reflecting on their faces like light cast upon jewels. One as pale as a china-doll, the other a dark caramel, their skin contrasting under blue light. They were beautiful really, but Kailan never thought much of it. Art was beautiful too, but he didn't want to kiss it either.

Watching the light dance across their smiling faces, he rested his chin in his hand and muttered aloud, "What makes you think I'm interested in girls?"

It was a passing thought—meant never to leave his head. But the words slipped out, and he could do nothing to stop them.

If it wasn't night out, it would be obvious that his face visibly paled, his eyes wide in what looked to be genuine horror. "Oh god,"—his voice stifled like it was about to crack—"did I say that out loud?"

Vincent froze mid-breath and in turn began choking on the rough smoke that tickled his throat. He cleared his lungs, collected himself, then slowly looked to Kailan. "Kai?" It was dark, and difficult to make out his features, but Kailan seemed shaken. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

The silence that hung stiff in the air was more deafening than the music that reverberated the glass doors behind them. Vinny craned his neck to get a better view of his friend, his brows tucking inwards with curiosity. He had nearly forgotten about cigarette in his fingers until the dead ashes tumbled to the ground and dispersed at their feet. Suddenly that burning urge for nicotine died out, and the cigarette hardly seemed as important as it was a moment ago. He put it out on the steps next to him, his attention never leaving Kai for a second.

"What do you mean you're not interested in girls? I've seen you with girls." He softened his voice with a nervous laugh, tossing a thumb to the doors behind them. "You seemed plenty interested in those ones. And what about Sage?"

Kai chuckled, but the tone of his voice held no humor, "Yeah you have." He didn't look up at Vinny to speak, talking to the ground at his feet instead; his voice so small, he wasn't sure that Vinny could hear it. "But I don't like them like you do."

He looked up, but it was the distance he sought, not Vincent. "I'm gay, Vinny," he admitted finally. There was a bittersweet silence that followed, before Kailan spoke again: "I've known I'm gay since freshman year of high school." He laughed that dry, satirical laugh, averting his eyes to a sharp lining of evergreen trees. This time, his voice did crack, if only a bit. "I'm a fucking faggot."

Vincent watched the emotion in his expression—more than he'd ever seen on Kailan before. He fought himself for words of comfort, but nothing came. So he stayed quiet, watching the moon illuminate what little color was left in Kailan's eyes.

"I might flirt with girls, but that's it," Kailan explained. "They don't interest me, never have. And Sage was a mistake, I loved her, but as a friend." His voice was small by the end of it. He was terrified of what Vinny would say, terrified that it would change what they were—what they always had been. His parents tossed him away when they found out. The thought of Vincent doing the same made his mouth dry, his stomach sick and heavy. People only seemed to care until they found the smallest reason not to like they'd been searching for an excuse all along. He didn't want Vinny to be one of those people.

The world around them fell mum, spare for muffled music, and the gentle trickle of placid water. Vincent had been friends with Kailan for over ten years. He never showed much of an interest in girls, but he always assumed Kai just wasn't the dating type. Gay? Gay never crossed his mind.

He wanted to comfort him, but that was something Vincent had no experience with. He'd never comforted Kailan. He never had to; Kailan was a vault. If ever he was upset, he did a fine job of hiding it. So he did the only helpful thing he could think of and passed the bottle of liquor onto Kailan.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't get much of a chance to," Kailan said, taking the bottle between his fingers. "I told my parents first. Yanno what they did?" For the first time, he looked to Vinny with a grin. A painful, ironic kind of grin. "They threatened to send me back to foster care and when that didn't work, it was military school." He finally took a swig from the bottle, sighing bitterly. "I mean, they already thought I was mental, I guess being gay was just too much for them."

Then he smiled. This time, it was softer. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. Kinda afraid you might've reacted the same as my so-called parents."

"Ah." Vincent understood now. He understood that Kailan didn't abandon him. That Kailan was abandoned. It was a lot to take in, but it was Kailan; nothing had ever changed Vinny's perception of him, and nothing ever would. He hooked an arm around Kai's neck and stole the bottle back, downing the last of it with a gluttonous gulp.

"Go home without me," he said, giving Kailan a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and rising to his feet. "There's someone I have to talk to, and I'm not sure how long it'll take." It was time he found Gigi, and get their little chat over with.

Kailan looked over at Vinny with a flash of hesitance and frowned to himself. "Alright, sure," he said as he stood. He wore a small smile, but it never reached his eyes. He was still scared. Vinny might not have lashed out at him but who's to say he didn't feel the same as his parents? The thought made him feel cold and panicked. He didn't know what to think or say to his friend, instead just giving him one last look, before muttering a halfhearted "see you later".

Vincent watched as Kailan left through a gate in the fence, and traveled down the empty suburban streets, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets to keep them from shaking any longer.

He was a wreck, and the last thing Vincent wanted to do was to leave him alone. Talking to Gigi—it was important. But was it more important than Kailan?

Few things were.

And yet, he watched him leave his line of sight. His shoulders looked heavy, his body tired. It wasn't too late; Vincent could catch up to him. He wasn't sure how, but he'd give Kailan some reassurance. He could deal with Gigi later.

He took one long stride in Kai's direction, but he was stopped by a hand around his wrist.

"Didn't you want to talk?" He turned to face Gigi, quickly caught in a web-like snare by her primal feline eyes. Long lashes batted up at him, and her lips skewed into a lowering smirk. "Hi Vinny."

Vincent felt a hot ire pull him towards her, "You—"

"Me, me, me," Gigi sang, her smirk large and baneful. "Honestly, it's been fun playing Hide and Seek with you, but let's cut to the chase, huh?"

"Let's," he snapped back, leaning forth to meet her at eye-level. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You don't remember?" Narrow eyes fixated on him, and high cheekbones rose into a roguish grin. She brushed a delicate thumb over her lips and took a step closer. "In that case, I think you deserve this."

It was almost too fast to comprehend. Gigi was easily 5'9" without heels, and in the moment, she was standing a step above Vincent, nearly matching his height. That's why it was all too easy for her to clasp a hand to the boy's cheek and pull him into a suffocating kiss. It was forceful and unexpected, and it was over before Vinny even had time to react.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed, rubbing the bitter taste from his lips.

"To be exact?" she smirked wryly, dove into her purse, and returned with a small yellow bottle of pills. "A very potent and carefully concocted sedative I created when I was studying the effects of Rohypnol and Ketamine. Don't worry though." She paused her speech, lifting a bottle of water to her lips, and mixing a short draft in her mouth. She spit it out in the nearest bush, ridding her tongue of the extra sedative. Then that same lethal smile found Vincent again. "I'm very good with these things. You'll be just fine."

"You can't just do that, Gigi!" his voice rose, taught, and he tossed the empty bottle aside to shatter and scatter its glass into a flowerbed.

But she hardly acknowledged his anger. "What do you think I should name it?" She was referring to the tiny pill pinched between her fingers, eying it in the light of the moon. "It's amazing, really. Tastes a bit bitter, doesn't it? But ingested through the mouth, it reaches your bloodstream faster than cocaine—cocaine when inhaled, of course. That's pretty damn fast, you know. Typically, it takes a minute or two—but really, it depends on the person. As for you, though... I've never seen an oral sedative affect someone quite so fast."

By now, Vincent's legs were beginning to feel numb, and he clutched the railing for support. He wanted to say something—to shout and scream at her for manipulating his body this way. But his head was spinning, a pinching sensation burrowing behind his brow. All he could do was look back at the direction Kailan had gone, hoping maybe—for some reason—he'd decided to turn around and come back.

"What I'm trying to say is..." A sharp fingernail rode along the line of his jaw, turning his head away from the street. She caught his eyes in that menacing stare of hers, and their grip on him was agonizing. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do."

With dead legs, Vincent stumbled into the arms of the very person he wished to escape. A sort of pleasure grew in the slope of her russet smile as she held him steady by his sides. "It'll be fun," she whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, fireboy."