A pale light poured into the dark apartment from a kitchen window, and covered the angsty resident. Casey sat in the grungy kitchen, looking at the rust covered refrigeration and inhaling death from his third cigarette of the morning. The air in the small space was a little bit foggy from this method of stress relief, but there was no way Casey was going to open a window. Since he barely made enough money from being a whore and stealing from his now four boyfriends to pay rent, he never turned the heat on and always wore several layers of clothing. He was barely ever home anyway, so it didn't matter. This was simply a place to keep his belongings in and bring the occasional client home.
Cigarette number three was soon diminished to the butt and once it was, the whore rubbed it on the bottom of his plain sage green ceramic ash tray. It was a housewarming gift from boyfriend #2
; probably purchased at a garage sale for a dollar. The ash tray honestly looked like something you'd see in the house of an old married couple with throat cancer and heart disease. Either way, it held Casey's ashes, so he honestly didn't care what it looked like. It wasn't like he cared about design schemes or anything.
He sat there looking at the ashes and all the cigarette butts for a minute, thinking about the day him and Shiloh met. Only then did he realize how awkward his question was.
"I'm such an idiot..." he laughed to himself, "Shiloh doesn't even look like the type that smokes."
A few minutes later, as Casey was considering lighting up a fourth, his phone buzzed. It sat right next to the nursing home ash tray, as it always did when Casey was at home. He had a tendency to place them right besides each other, as if they were inanimate best friends. When Casey picked it up, he saw that it was just a text from boyfriend #1
. Boyfriend #1
was the kind of boy that was sure to be valedictorian; 4.0 GPA, high score on the ACT, vice-president of the student senate, strict parents that were ironically both surgeons. How he became the boyfriend of the lowest scumbag in school not even Casey knew, but the sex was decent, so he kept the brunette nerd around.
Once the message popped up on his screen, Casey didn't even care enough to read it. All he did was select 'reply', type in "I'm breaking up with you, and send it. In the past month that he and Shiloh hadn't hung out much, Casey had learned that breaking up with people took energy he didn't care enough to give. So from now on, he decided to break up via text message. Sure, Casey knew this was the asshole way of breaking up, but he was an asshole. So it all worked out. Plus, it wasn't like the relationships meant anything.
In the other room lie his little prize from the night before. Wrapped up among the few blankets which had the unflattering scent of smoke soaked into them- but that was just the lingering smell that he'd already gotten used to since the moment he and Casey met. The boy had been sleeping for quite a while now, tossing in the sheets every now and again. He was probably having nightmares again or something, it'd become quite the pattern during the time that he and Casey hadn't seen each other.
There was just this persistent fear that Casey was going to leave him one day; maybe soon, maybe once he'd grown even more inseparable. Things like that would trouble anyone though, far form a pleasant thought when you're in love and you don't even know what love means.
A few minutes after Casey's break up text was sent, he noticed that Shiloh had been sleeping for a really long time. He'd been awake for a little over two hours now, and Shiloh was still in bed. Not only that, but he was beginning to feel a little lonely. Zipping up his baggy sweater, the raven got up from his chair at the kitchen table and walked off into the bedroom.
"Shilohhhhh..." he whispered, slipping into the covers behind him. Casey then wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him close, kissing his neck two times softly. "My sleepy little Russian, it's time to get up~"
A few minutes passed before the boy came to, yawning a little before wetting his lips, "Mmm.. But it's cooold.." Shiloh pouted as his eyelids slid up ever so slightly. He loved the company and heat radiating behind him and just wanted to stay there for a little bit longer.
Hearing Shiloh's little voice, Casey smiled and kissed at his jaw from the side a few more times. "I'm sorry, I'm poor." he chuckled, "I can't afford heat. I'll warm you up though, baby." Casey then unzipped his sweater and wrapped it around Shiloh. It was much warmer there, and lucky for little Shiloh, Casey wasn't wearing a shirt under his sweater.
The feeling of skin along the pinky's back made him smile cheekily to himself since it was so smooth against his own skin. "I like this.." Shi mumbled shyly as he leaned back into him; hair tickling Casey's chest.
"Mm, I like it too." Casey purred, closing his eyes. As they lie there together, Casey ran his hand up and down the boy's chest affectionately. Every so often though, he would place a kiss on Shiloh's neck or cheek.
A little while passed before Shiloh sat up and turned to face him with a little grin. "Casey, what do you like about me?" He asked sweetly, wrapping his arms around the teen's shoulders as he fell into him.
Casey couldn't answer the question right away, even though he liked Shiloh an awful lot. He just was terrible at voicing his emotions and feelings. "Hmm..." he hummed as he thought, "I don't know. I like a lot of things about you..."
"You like a lot about me? Name something
" Shi peeped as he leaned back a little and took Casey's hand; guiding it from his cheek to his chin, then down to his chest. Of course this was something that he generally wouldn't do on his own, but he just wanted Casey to like him- or gets his attention.
"Well... I really like your lips I guess." Casey began, "They're really soft and... stuff."
After the words came out of his mouth though, he realized how awkward it sounded.
Shiloh just giggled at this point and leaned in to kiss him for a moment before getting up from the bed to stretch; defined shoulders tensing up a little before he glanced back.
"So you like my kisses?"
The raven too sat up, but didn't get out of bed. "Yeah. And... I like the way you talk. It's really... Russian." the whore stuttered.
This was far from the first time Casey had been asked this before, but he always used fake shit. Usually, he lied about how he loved the beauty of their eyes, or how he loved the way they breathed, but Casey didn't want to lie to Shiloh. Because Shiloh meant so much more to him than any of them.
"The way that I talk?" Shiloh repeated curiously, cocking his head to the side so that his messy hair fell away from his eyes.
"Y-yeah. I don't know... it's hard to pin point things. I just... like you a lot. I've never really thought about why, I guess." Casey continued, trying not to sound like the heartless bastard that he was. The poor whore looked up to Shiloh with an apologetic look.
But then there was three knocks out against the front door.
Three repetitive and distinct knocks which followed with a, "Hey sexy, you in?"
Of course this caught both Shiloh and Casey's attention, but it made the younger and uninformed of the two's heart sink.
This, of course, made Casey nervous. He looked to Shiloh, and then to the bedroom door, then back to the boy. "Must have the wrong apartment..." The whore chuckled nervously Casey then got out of bed and tried to act calm, but was furious at whoever it was. Within a few steps, the raven was opening the door.
"Hello?" he asked through gritting teeth.
"Oooo~ So you are home, Ooooh, up to a little fun all by yourself? Mind if I join you?" The unwelcome guest also-known as boyfriend number two purred; noting the lack of shirt. "I've been missing youuuu..~" Personal space was already being invaded as the tall blonde and flirty boy wrapped his arms around the whore's shoulders and rubbed up against him.
The raven didn't know what to do. His heart was screaming Shiloh, but his dick was yelling 'number two'. Without really thinking, he shoved the blonde off of him, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what TO say. Even if he did, the lump in his throat wouldn't allow him to speak. Casey just stood there, looking at the tall blonde with an expression of fury.
Shiloh had wandered out of the bedroom by now, dressed in his damp clothes from the night before as he walked into the room and stopped in his tracks.
Only one little word was voiced, "Oh.."
"S-Shiloh..." Casey managed to squeak out. He couldn't say anything else though. There was nothing to say. To say it wasn't what it looked like would be a goddamn lie. If he said this guy wasn't his boyfriend, #2
would get mad. There really was no way to win this.
The little blue eyes gradually grew teary eyed the longer he stood there, the blonde just gave Shi a weird look before his eyes darted back to Casey. "Who the fuck is that huh?" He snapped before Shiloh wiped his eye with his already damp sleeve and pushed by- making his way out the door and into the apartment's main hallway. "I'm leaving."
The raven didn't give a shit about #2
, but as he saw Shiloh begin to cry, he lost it. His hands began to shake, and numbness quickly took over his arms and legs. The only boy he ever felt for except the first boy he'd ever dated just walked out of his apartment in tears because Casey was such a slut. Casey had never been so angry with himself in his life. It was the angriest he'd ever felt towards anyone or anything.
He could feel the blood rush to his racing heart. It felt as if his knees were about to give out any second, and he was going to throw up right then and there. Only a few seconds after Shiloh left, Casey turned his head to look at the blonde. "Out." he snarled, fighting back tears.
The blonde shot him a glare before giving him a sharp smack to the face, "A slut. Should've guessed." He muttered before spinning on his heels and strolled out, taking his dignity with him.
Shiloh was already out of the building and on his way to the nearest bus stop. He just wanted to go home. It was clear that he wasn't as special as he'd believed. He wasn't lucky, he wasn't loved, and he'd always be alone. After some time, the bus finally pulled up and he'd flashed his ID before taking a seat back by the second door; shivering as his sad eyes lay on the window beside him. Casey doesn't love me..
, he thought over and over to himself as his eyes fought back the tear party with blinks and knuckle rubbing. The bus was soon to come up to his stop and he reached up to give the line that requested his stop a firm tug; slinking out of his seat as he walked over to the side door and waited for the bus to park alongside the road only a few feet from his once welcoming home.
It seemed more like a hideaway now though; A place where he'd be all alone and far from any ears or eyes. Anything could really happen there, but he struggled to shove those thoughts from his mind as he trudged through the newly knee high snow to his door.
And once Casey was alone, he COMPLETELY lost it. Shiloh was the only person that had ever loved him in his life, and he threw it all away. He had what he'd always longed for, and flushed it down the toilet. All he could think of was all those nights, lying in bed wishing for a girlfriend or boyfriend or just someone to make up for a father that he always seemed to disappoint and a mother that
left both of them for Casey's uncle. Casey quite honestly didn't know what to do. So he just screamed. He screamed until there was no air left in his lungs, and his voice was gone. And when Casey couldn't scream anymore, he just began to completely destroy everything. The first victim was a lamp that was nearby. The teen grabbed it and threw it across the apartment as hard as he could.
But luckily, his apartment was barely furnished, and the only stuff he did have was too heavy to pick up and throw. That's when Casey began punching walls, taking all of his anger out on the drywall. This anger wasn't just from Shiloh though. It was bottled up anger from absolutely everything: His family problems, the lack of love and affection, how angry he was with himself, how everyone around him seemed to annoy the shit out of him.
After Casey put a hole in the wall, he was completely out of breath, and felt weak. The adrenaline still pumped through him though. He took a second to regain a little bit of his breath, and then staggered into the bathroom. Once he stumbled through the doorway though, he could see his pathetic reflection in the mirror in front of him: Pasty skin, black and blood red hair that hung over his right eye and needed to be cut in most people's opinion, ribs that slightly showed through his thin skin, slender figure, and snake bitten lips with cheap plastic captive rings. Casey always had a certain hatred for that emo bastard looking at him in the mirror, but right now he absolutely couldn't stand to look at him now.
Using the last bit of strength that he had, Casey lunged forward and threw his fist that was already split at the knuckles from pounding on drywall, into the reflective glass. Of course, he shattered, and some of the razor like shards cut into his flesh. Of course he could feel the pain, but he felt he deserved it. He deserved everything that he got. The blood beaded and dripped out of the cuts, and as Casey looked at one of the bigger shards, he felt an urge he hadn't gotten since he met Shiloh.
Back across town, over a small stretch of land and up to the higher elevated area, blanketed in white and frost stood the little Russian's house. It felt more like a prison as the pinky paced down the hall to the kitchen, then back into the lounge. The house was chillier than normal, he couldn't tell if it was just his body's way of reminding him that he was alone- or if it was just because the house was left abandoned the night before and had nobody to light the fireplace or turn on the heat. His auntie had always urged him to use the fireplace in the winter to save power, but children rarely listen after all.
Everything seemed so silent and docile now; well, everything but the sound of his own shaking, ragged breathing and whimpers.
He didn't even care to change out of his damp clothes before he wandered out to the back porch overlooking the snowy scape; dragging his bare feet along the frozen surface which stung at his now pink heels. He just wanted to go for a walk; it didn't matter if he'd get sick. Not like there was anyone to worry about him right?
Not very much time passed since Shiloh and #2
left, and Casey now sat on his bathroom floor, leaning up against the wall panting. He was dressed only in his boxers, and his skin was freezing. Both arms lay limply at his sides, and his palms were upturned. A mirror shard that was decorated with blood lay in one of his palms, and some of the red liquid dripped into his hand as he sat there.
On the insides of his thighs were fresh slits and cuts, and a good amount of blood had emerged from them and ran down to the underside of his paper-white thighs, soon dripping off and onto the floor in little puddles. But, in a crazy kind of way, the feeling of the blood running down his skin was relaxing. Once Casey had broken skin and drew blood, it was as if raw emotion leaked from the wound rather than blood. And now, he sat there, emotionless and drained.
This was something Casey hadn't done since that day that he met the Russian exchange student with pink hair. Casey could remember that night as if it were yesterday though. He wanted to cut so badly, but for some reason, the boy's voice resonated through his head. Every time he thought about slicing his skin since then, he could hear that high pitched accent heavy voice, and see his precious face."My name?...Oh well.. I'm Shiloh."
And every time, Casey would smile, put down the razor, and think of him.
But now he was gone.
Roughly an hour later, Casey snapped back to reality. He pulled the glass from his knuckles, dressed his wounds, and limped back to his bedroom to get dressed. He would go to the boy's house, and try to make things better now that he had a level head.
As he limped out to his car in skinny jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and his warm army jacket, he pressed his phone up to his cold, red cheek and ear and tried to call his precious Shiloh.
Moments later, a shaky and quiet little voice sounded as Shi picked up the other line; walking aimlessly further down the hill. The frozen blanketing the familiar landscape made everything seem so off to him and he was having a hard time pinpointing exactly where he stood. A low creaking sound whispered below him as if he were standing on hollow ground.
"H-hello..?" The pinky asked, clearing his throat.
Casey had a little rule for phone calls: after 4 rings, they aren't going to pick up. But Shiloh had actually picked up right in the middle of the forth dial tone. The whore actually jumped in the seat of his car as he heard Shiloh's voice on the other end. "I'm sorry." Casey uttered into the phone after a small pause. His voice was still very hoarse from screaming though, and it came out as a scratchy whisper, "Please... I'm so sorry."
There was a little pause before Shiloh sniffled and curled his little red toes in, "Are you okay..?"
In truth, Casey felt light headed from blood loss and quite sick, but he wasn't about to tell Shiloh that.
"Where are you?" he asked, ignoring the question.
"Oh.. I'm just out in the orchard behind my house, and you?" Shiloh responded, hearing the car engine humming on the other end.
"I'm driving to your house right now." the wounded 18 year old replied, barely keeping hold of the wheel. And he was actually pretty close.
"O-oh, I can't wait to see yo" The boy was interrupted by a loud and blood chilling crack followed by his own scream and topped with a splash as he fell through the ice. He didn't even know that he was standing over the lake in the first place, but of course that answered his previous question as to where exactly he was. The numbing water felt like icy hands pulling him down into deeper waters, stiffening his joints and muscles and leaving him helpless as he flailed frantically.
Once the phone dropped down into the water, the call was dropped. "S-Shiloh?" Casey asked, soon overflowing with worry. A few seconds later, he pulled into the boy's driveway and darted out of the car. The raven tried to scream out the boy's name, but his voice was long gone. As Casey ran around the side of the house, he could see the big hole in the frozen lake and connected the dots.
"Shiloh..." he whimpered.