Chapter 6 - Final - When Morning Comes
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Christmas had come and gone rather painfully; the experience, a long, drawn-out groan.
My manager fired me, and I knew it had been because of what I'd done with Niki. That whole thing earned me a sit down and absolutely no chance to defend myself. Not that there was any way I could've, watching the captured security footage play out in front of me. Niki pacing around, frantic; lost. The hallway lights coming abruptly on, capturing me only half-covered by my jumpsuit, wandering into view.
The manager had made up his mind before I was summoned to the main company building. "That's just messed up," he said, shaking his head as he watched me get up. Needless to say, I walked out of that place stone-cold jobless.
The New Year, 2020, loomed around the corner with all the weight of a lead balloon. It carried with it all the promises, all the threats of the first year in a new decade. The year twenty-twenty...and I was dragged into it with all the grace of a wet horse.
The next course of action was to move out of my apartment. My roommate was, naturally, pissed about it, kicking up a fucking storm about the logistics of everything.
"Right when they're jacking up the rent too," he complained, watching me drag what little I had into the hallway. "Real fuckin' considerate, Nathan." The sound of the door slamming reverberated in the hallway like a gunshot. It felt good as shit.
Not even an hour later, I was back home at my parents'. To say I was thoroughly embarrassed was an understatement, even though they tried their best to never address it. They were just "happy I was home again". Right. They were happy to have their failure back in their spare bedroom, taking up utilities. I could feel my middle sister regarding me with such stifling pity, I couldn't fucking stand it.
"Kuya?" she said through the door to my room one night. "I'm worried about you. You wanna come and watch movies?"
"It's okay, Reese," I replied, unmoving, unblinking. "I got some stuff I need to do anyway."
"Like...staring at the wall all night like you usually do?" I didn't dignify myself with an answer, just kept my face firmly buried in my sheets. She sighed, defeated. "If...you wanna talk, I'm here."
I heard her shuffle away, sighing. Poor girl. She was trying so hard.
Nights became lonely; I stopped hooking up. Fucking pathetic. After our disastrous hookup, Niki kept pumping vitriol into my messages, bemoaning how I'd ruined his relationship. Yes. I was the one to ruin his relationship. Not the fact that he was a serial cheater and I was just the guy with the proof. I was also the guy caught red-cocked up his ass, but hey. Take happiness where you can get it.
Aaron popped up a few times again; Rory, once, too. I had to turn them both down. Sincerely, I hoped they each found what they were looking for elsewhere. What I wanted, I couldn't damn well have.
There came a point where my already bone-dry conversations over text with Josh came to a standstill. There'd be days where I would text him at night, to wake up to nothing but a 'read' receipt. And it was only after the third time this had happened that I decided I'd had fucking enough. After everything else, this, for whatever reason, was the final straw.
Only barely conscious of my actions, I got in my car and I hauled ass halfway across the city to his apartment. Not that that was one of my greatest ideas, no.
Was I really thinking all that much when I parked nearby and stomped through the early January snowfall to his building? Was I really processing anything in the lobby, the elevator, and the hallway before I found myself at his door? Even once before I knocked? No, of course not. And when he opened the door, surprise dawning on his face, my lack of planning just sort of...hit me.
Josh stood there, in that plain grey shirt I had, months ago, shot my cum all over, and a pair of ratty old boxers. For his end, he looked at least stupefied to see me there with no warning, his glasses off and his hair having grown out somewhat, twisted into tiny starter locs. He had his hand on the doorframe, his fingers twitching like he didn't know what to do with them.
For a second, I wondered exactly how I looked, covered in melting snow and looming menacingly in his doorway. I looked up at him, trying to find something to say that wasn't just "hey, fuck you, where have you been?"
"Nate..." he said stupidly, the first thing he had said to me in ages.
"Josh," I replied, equally as dull. "Can I come in?" It was a long, really weird moment of his eyes just sort of roving around before he eventually moved aside to let me in. It was only when I stood in his living room, the whole thing a complete fucking mess, did I realise that I was in the deep end.
Josh stayed standing, his hand on his stomach. He kept his eyes on me but his body communicated that he was geared up to turn and run. Out of his own goddamn apartment. My insides were a boiling mess; as the adrenaline of rushing headfirst into action wore off, the paralysis of emotions finally took over. He stood there, just fucking stood there, and looked at me like I was the idiot.
"Dude, man, what the fuck," I found myself saying, the fire of accusation stinging my tongue. I can't even imagine how I looked at that moment. "Wanna explain yourself, Josh?"
If his boxers had pockets, he'd have his hands stuffed in them. He stared at the floor, his hangdog look the only thing on his face. His lips twitched like whatever he was going to say next would determine his fate. And honestly, with how pissed I was becoming at his silence, it might as well have. Our relationship, anyway. Because weeks of silence after using me to lose his virginity was so fucked.
I knew what bad was. I did bad. And now that I was on the receiving end of it, I wanted to throw up. I hated him in that moment, something I never thought was possible. The emotion was so wretched and rotten inside me; my fists clenched and unclenched, intensifying with the passing seconds.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, his shoulders hanging.
"'I'm sorry'!" burst out of me. I couldn't help it; I was a tangle of emotions. "All you've got is 'I'm sorry'!"
"Yes, Nate," he said with his hands up. "I know I fucked up, I do. I didn't...I didn't mean for it to get like that." He looked like he was trying to shrink into the shadows of his own apartment. His stupid rainbow glowing light was off; the fast-diminishing light from outside just trickling in. Dark strokes of shadow were carved into the room. Josh tried to disappear into one.
I hated this.
"You have no idea how shitty that felt," I continued lashing at him, everything that had been building inside me spilling out like sewage. The ugliness of envy, of hurt and frustration tumbled out, clattering to the floor. "I might be a fucking slut, Josh, but we were friends. Friends don't do that shit to each other!"
He stepped into the bare light of his living room, his hands spread; his face pinched in his own wash of shame. "I didn't mean to do that." Josh looked at me with so much bare-faced misery. An ugly part of me was satisfied that he was hurt too.
"Sure, sure," came tumbling out of my mouth. The taste of fury was horrendous. "You didn't mean to lose the virginity you were so fucking desperate to get rid of, then not speak to me in any meaningful way for two months once you did. Yeah. Yeah, that shit's accidental."
