C20 The S Word

"Vinny what's the matter?"

She had opened the door of her apartment to greet him in the pouring rain. A look of sheer agony was inscribed on his face, eyes swollen red from the acid of his tears and the rush of narcotized blood. It had been a week since Sage's death, and he just couldn't cope with his storm of emotions. They'd both left him behind, Sage and Kailan. He had no one else to turn to.

She was a soccer player. An environmentalist. An animal lover—and the first person to befriend Vincent for more than just his money's worth. Gigi was the epitome of innocence only a year ago. She still would be, if only she hadn't invited him in that night.

Vincent sat up with a gasp, sweat chilling his back with the late night draft. He ran his hand through his hair, slicking it back with lingering sweat. The room he found himself in was foreign, and yet familiar. Silken sheets melted from his body as he pulled himself to the edge of his bed, and rubbed circles into his eyes until his head stilled. The sleeping body next to him hadn't moved an inch, until he crouched down beside her and shook her by the shoulder.

She let off a soft grunt, her thick lashes fluttering open. Then, as she gazed upon him, she smiled. "Look at you," she whispered, her fingers reaching up to brush the sweat on his brow. "You really had a rough one, didn't you?"

"Enough," Vincent snapped, shoving her hand away. "Where are my clothes?"

She gestured to a chair in the distance, and he ripped his shirt from the wooden arm, prying it on as he walked. He was livid, and if he hadn't gotten out soon, he wasn't sure he'd get out at all without injuring someone in the process. He slammed the door as he left the woman's apartment and stumbled onto the city sidewalk.

Sleeping with a part of his somber past—it wasn't that big a deal. He'd been with Gigi before, he'd woken up in that room, in that bed—he'd found himself there only a year ago. But it was different this time. He had been taken advantage of, long after he swore away his vicing habits. He broke a promise to himself, and now he was left to wonder how someone so terribly wealthy could feel so awfully cheap.

He paced the sidewalk for a long while, before deciding to take his anger out on a wooden pole nearby. It only took a few hard punches to calm his fury, and by then his knuckles were riddled with splinters and stripped of flesh. He clasped the bleeding skin and leaned back against the post with a heaving sigh. He couldn't even light a damn cigarette.

Kailan laid in bed, watching the ceiling while music pressed a gentle beat into his ears. He felt ill; a nauseous, anxious squall in his stomach that hadn't gone away in several hours.

It was late. Too late to be awake when he had classes in the morning, but sleep was a distant thought. So he focused only on his breathing, and let the lyrics serenade him into a push and pull of mediocre mitigation. Music usually soothed his nerves. Painting and music—they were his refuge, but he was low on supplies, and the life of an artist was a costly one. So there he lay, hushing his nerves the only way he knew how. The only way that didn't require a little white pill.

But the music was hardly a proper substitute for medication. His heart was still a hollow echo in his chest, something evil squeezing his body like he was trapped in the angry clutches of a celestial god.

Vinny hadn't come home yet, and a worried storm was brewing in Kailan's head. Would he come back at all, now that he knew the truth?

It pissed him off, how dependent he suddenly felt. His chest rose and fell once more with a heavy sigh. All signs of shaking had stopped long ago, but now he was nervous, and anxiously wondering why Vinny so suddenly disappeared; why he'd vanished, right after Kailan came out to him. He would have called April to help calm his nerves, but he knew the girl was asleep. Now he was left alone to his thoughts, and they weren't the nicest of company.

"He's going to hate me," Kailan groaned to himself, tugging his earbuds out as he forfeited his feeble endeavor.

He left to the kitchen in search of a distraction, or at least something soothing to drink. Vinny never supplied them with anything apart from his goddamn yogurt, so Kailan usually used what little cash he had for things he needed. It was hard, being wiped of your family's finances, all while unemployed. Of course Vinny would slap down a stack of cash any time he needed it, but Kailan refused to ask for money. He was never the type.

He lived just fine with the lesser luxuries. Cheap tea, for instance. He searched the cupboard for a box, and set the kettle in hopes that a warm drink would calm his nerves.

It wasn't until he'd taken the first sip that the door shot open with a clatter and slammed closed with another. Sensitive to loud noises, Kailan jumped, spilling his drink across the counter. His attention flickered between the mess and Vinny, who was gone into the bedroom in a matter of seconds, closing the door behind him just as loud and angry as the first. Kailan frowned, turning to clean up the mess.

Once finished, he stepped silently into their room, sinking down into the edge of his own mattress. With the little light he had, Kailan could make out the round hills of Vincent's broad shoulders, but not much else. His arms were crossed, his body turned away to greet his own faceless shadow on the bedroom wall.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice so quiet it hardly sufficed as a whisper. Of course he wasn't okay, but Kailan couldn't understand why he was so angry. He could only come up with one conclusion, and he hardly wanted to consider it.

"I'm fine," Vinny expelled, letting the weight of his shoulders cave in on him.

He just wanted to lay there until the anger went away. Until the self-loathing, and disappointment scattered along side it. It wasn't a good time for Kailan to be around; Vincent's anger had grown far more volatile over the years he'd been absent. He should have left it at that, and gone about his night alone. He needed to go.

But he stayed.

"I'm sure," Kailan muttered, lowering his gaze to the scar on his palm. He sighed silently, then he looked back at Vinny, catching only his thin glowing outline in the covetous dark. "You don't have to lie to me." His words were small, barely slipping past his teeth.

"Kailan," Vincent's tone was loud in comparison—firm and orotund, and nearing a shout. As he realized how harsh he sounded, he relaxed against the bed, his sapphire eyes reading every imperfection on the wall. Then his tone lowered to a sort of calm resignation. "Just leave me alone." He closed his eyes, and softly, he added, "Alright?"

A long stretch of silence was Kailan's response, followed by the creaking of his bed as rose. For a moment he chuckled, but it too was washed away with silence.

"Fuck you," he hissed under a callous breath.

He was angry, but mostly at himself. Kailan bit down on his lip, tearing at the sore. It was a mistake confiding in Vinny, he knew that now. He crossed his arms and fell back into the sofa, where he'd stay all night if he had to. It felt like a nightmare—every bit of it.

"Is it that fucked that I ask to be alone?" Vincent's voice followed, and he emerged from the room, his large build leaning weak against the wall beside him. He looked nearly to pieces, and yet he was loud. "You have no idea what my night's been like. What the hell do you have to be pissed about?"

Kailan felt as if he was becoming hysterical, choking on something between a laugh and a sob. "Oh, what do I have to be pissed about?" he asked, his voice raising to match Vinny's. "Why don't you tell me, Vinny?" Despite his anger, his voice cracked, his throat bobbing as he averted his eyes.

"I was sent away for three years." With brittle words, he looked to Vinny again, "Three fucking years because of who I am. And when I try to tell my best friend, he disappears all night, only to come back pissed and refusing to talk to me." He smiled, though his eyes were squinting and sheening with tears.

"Please, try to think for a moment. Because past your relentless anger issues and your knack for consistently fucking yourself over because of some girl, I know there's at least a fragment of a sentient brain in there. Or is that too hard for you?" He shook his head. "Must be too difficult to think of someone other than yourself, right?"

Vincent lowered his gaze. His anger had numbed, be it because of the truth behind Kai's words, or the hurt in every shaky syllable. That's what it was. Hurt. He'd hurt Kailan. He had never done that before.

He laid his head against the wall, letting a deep sigh clean the tired ache from his lungs. After a long silence, he walked over to Kailan, his legs as unresponsive as lead.

He took a seat beside him, and as he'd done so many times before, he draped an arm around his shoulders. This time though, he pulled Kailan's head close to rest against his own, fingers frisking his hair into a bit of a fluffy mess.

"Sorry," he whispered. Those two syllables hadn't been spoken in a long time. Getting an apology out of Vincent was near to impossible, but in the moment, he had very little pride left. "I wasn't thinking. Sorry."

Kailan was expecting Vinny to lash out, say he was wrong or shout at him again. He hadn't at all foreseen the affectionate gesture. Somehow it held closure, that gentle side-hug.

"I was just scared," he replied with a speck of a forgiving smile, gently swatting off Vinny's hand and pulling away to invite some space between them. "I'm fine."

Vinny let him go with a smirk. "It was a surprise, I won't lie. I wasn't expecting it." He looked to Kailan, who was fixing the mess Vinny had made of his hair. "I guess it wasn't as big a deal for me to hear it as it was for you to say it. I didn't even consider that you might be freaked out about it. I just—" He considered for a moment, telling Kailan about Gigi. About why he was gone for so long, but the night had been problematic enough. "I just had other shit going on."

"Yeah, I can tell," Kailan replied, noting Vinny's grated knuckles. "I guess it was stupid of me to panic."

Vinny nodded, and after a moment of silence, melted into a grin. "Hey."

"What?" Kailan lifted a suspicious brow.

"I've always been curious. Am I attractive to gay guys too?" He bit his tongue playfully, leaning a ways away just in case Kai's response was a violent one.

"Are you serious? God, you're insufferable, Vinny," Kailan scolded, but there was a grin on his face as well. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it and shook his head. "Do you ever hear yourself when you talk?" he asked instead, sneering at his friend.

Vinny stood to his feet, a cheeky grin swallowing his face. "Of course. I have a sexy voice too, yeah?" By now, he was retreating out of the room for fear of Kai's wrath. He took refuge in the kitchen, running warm water over the busted flesh of his knuckles.

His anger had been brushed aside, where it would stay for some time. Making things up with Kailan was higher on his priority list, and now that he had, he was only filled with relief—but he was also kicking himself for lashing out on a wooden post. It would take hours to pick the splinters from his flesh. A tedious task, but the least of his problems.

There was a more concerning matter at hand, and as he thought back to it, his smile faded into nothingness. He gripped the frame of the sink, stiff arms holding him up as he watched his reflection in the rusty water.

Gigi knew about his abilities.

And she had all the reason in the world to turn him in.