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TW: Mild reference to attempted suic*de.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Alexander! Language!”

Alex stood up from his kitchen stool sending it clattering to the floor. He glared at his mother who had gone red in the cheeks with anger. But he was angrier.

“I’m twenty this year and you get me a fucking babysitter?”

“Alexander I will not tolerate-“

“I swear to god Mum-“

“Oh for goodness sake! He’s not a babysitter!” She cried. “I just thought you could do with some company whilst your father and I are away for the next month!”

He glared at her, feeling like a hormonal fourteen year old all over again as boiling hot rage took over his body making his hands sweat and his fingers tremble. He balled them into fists, digging his nails into his palms so hard they hurt as he tried to breath out slowly, to speak at a normal volume.

“Him. Of all people you asked him?”

His mother sighed, as if he was a spoiled child complaining he hadn’t got the toy he wanted. He locked his jaw against the bubbling fury he wanted to hurl at her.

“Don’t be silly. You were best friends once, this could be a chance to rekindle an old friendship.”

It was true. Logan Conners had been his best friend since… well he couldn’t remember. Nursery maybe? As children they had been inseparable. The blond sporty boy with bright blue eyes, and the black haired bookish kid with skinny limbs couldn’t have been more opposite from each other, and yet they were a balanced ying and yang, bringing out each other’s strengths. That was until secondary school.

What had started as a natural drifting to different circles of friends changed over time to hatred for one another. It was a slow process over the course of the years. Alex, had grown into a bookworm and a video gamer. His ‘loner’ hobbies along with his naturally dark hair and eyes, paired with pale skin led people to think and gossip that Alex Drumm was an ’emo’. And of course like any secondary school kid getting picked on, he wore darker clothes to ‘blend in’ and hide, unintentionally increasing the stereotype.

Logan on the other hand was bright and charismatic. He was able to wrap even the strictest of teachers around his finger with his charm and wit. He joined the football team, quickly forming a circle of friends that gravitated to the top of the food chain in their year. They were the ‘popular boys’, the ‘sporty boys’, the ‘hot boys’. Alex had heard it all, but preferred to refer to them all as ‘dickheads’.

There had been a brief time that he had managed to maintain a sort of friendship with Logan. But things quickly started to go wrong. Like how suddenly the whole year knew about how he had wet himself in Year 4 at school when he was eight. The only person who had known about that was Logan. He had been the best friend ever and had lent his spare pair of PE shorts, not even the teacher had known.

“What the fuck?!” Alex had said when he saw Logan that day, but Logan had just shrugged it off as a joke and called him ‘sensitive’.

Then there was Alison Crawford. A girl who he had dated for two weeks until eventually she dissolved into fits of giggles when he had leaned in to kiss her, and admitted she was only hanging out with him because Logan had dared her. Once again, his old friend defended himself that he was just trying to get him some action, to break him out of his shell, have some fun. But by this point their friendship was shattering quickly.

The final straw has been the worst of all. He had only glanced at Logan in the changing room for a second. Maybe two. Then suddenly he was confronted by Logan’s mates.

“What are you looking at perv?”

“Yeah you gay or something? Hey Logan, emo kid was looking at you. Think he’s got a crush.”

“Fuck off I was not-“

“You gay, emo kid?”

“No.”

“Bet you are. What you say Logan? You reckon emo kid is gay?”

There was a moment where Alex gave Logan a pleading look, the childish naive part of his brain thought Logan would rescue him, cover for him, or at the very least not engage. Instead his face twisted into a cruel smirk that he didn’t recognise.

“Yeah he’s always been a little fag. Why do you think I tried so hard to get rid of him?”

His world had broken apart at those words. Not because he could, correctly, predict the years of torture those words would start, or that his old best friend had been the one to say it. But that there was a small part of him that knew it was true. He had a crush on his once best friend, now bully. And he hated himself all the more for it. He was a fag, an emo kid freak. He had glared at Logan, letting the hatred roll over his skin, filling him with an anger and shame that would never leave him.

“You are a piece of shit Logan,” he spat and Logan’s eyes narrowed.

“Whatever emo kid.”

Alex stormed out from the changing room, slipping through the broken fence behind the Sports Hall and ditching school for the first day of many.

Now, here he stood. A nineteen year old virgin with no friends, living with istanbul travesti his parents, working in a local book shop. Facing the prospect of having Logan Conners back in his life.

“Please mum,” he begged. “Tell him no.”

“It’s too late,” she said in a clipped voice. “We’re leaving for the airport shortly. I think you’re being ungrateful, Logan was really pleased when I asked him. Said he’d love to see you.”

He felt sick. What was Logan up to? Why had he agreed to come and visit someone who he despised?

He knew why his mum had asked him. Logan was successful, handsome, back on his summer holidays from Leeds Uni. He was still as charming as he had been as a teenager and perhaps his mother thought he could brush off some of his cheerful persona on her moody and miserable son. She had no idea of course what had happened. He had told no one, writing down his miserable thoughts in a diary that no one knew even existed. It was full of his hatred and infatuation with Logan, the tangled mess of his brain, the longing and the hurt pouring out of him. Even now years after he had last seen him in the flesh.

Not that he regularly checked up on Logan, he just sometimes found himself wandering onto his Instagram feed when he was bored and feeling particularly depressed. Wondering where it all went wrong.

He clenched his teeth and said nothing as his mother tidied the kitchen and gathered her things.

“Right, I’m off. I’m meeting your father at the train station so I’ll send your love.”

“Have a nice holiday,” he said grudgingly and she leaned in for a kiss on his cheek.

“I love you,” she said, smiling sadly. Pushing his hood back and stroking his black hair like when he was a kid. It was nice, but he was nineteen and too old for that, so he pushed her hand away and pulled up his hood. “Please dont just sit in your room in the dark for a month?”

He nodded, but said nothing. The dread of Logan still ate at him.

“Bye mum,” he said and watched as she pulled her suitcase to the car, loaded it into the boot and drove away with a small wave.

He shut and locked the front door with a sigh. Although she would kill him when she came back from holiday, if he kept the door locked then Logan couldn’t come in. He was safe. He grabbed a bag of crisps from the cupboard and went up to his room, sitting in his gaming chair and starting up one of his favourite games.

He was engrossed into the story as he fought as a mage through the challenges when he heard the doorbell. He paused the game, and listened. He heard knocking and the doorbell rang again. He swallowed, his heart beating quickly and then put his headphones back on. Ignoring the noise, ignoring him. He continued playing, exploring the game and admiring the graphics as he sliced through his enemies, using his magic to cast spells to clear his path. He sat with his back to the door so he didn’t see or hear him until he was right there.

A body flung itself onto the bed beside him and gave him a grin.

“Hey bud!”

“Agh!” Alex cried, almost falling off his chair in surprise. He took off his headphones slowly, staring at Logan. He looked as good in real life than in his photos. A good six months older than Alex he had already turned twenty a few months back. He looked broad and strong, his sandy blonde hair cut smartly but still with a boyish tangle of effortless good looks. His eyes were light blue in a naturally olive tanned skin. If they were to stand up Logan would be considerably taller than Alex. He felt like a kid next to him, the pathetic loner once again.

“How did you get in?!” He whispered in amazement.

Logan dangled a small key on a key ring and chuckled. “Your mum thought I’d need this to check up on you. And she was right! Locking me out? Come on I thought we were friends!”

“We aren’t friends.”

“Sure we are! How many times have I been in this very bedroom? Countless! It’s barely changed, bit darker now though. Jeez man what’s with all the depressing posters and shit?”

“I like them.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Logan shrugged. He pulled open the dusty curtain letting light into the dark room and he winced. Logan noticed and chuckled.

“Why are you here?” He asked quietly and Logan shrugged.

“Your mum asked me.”

“Yeah, but why did you say yes?”

“Why not? You’re not still holding a grudge from school are you? That was years ago! Lighten up!”

Lighten up?! Alex closed his eyes, feeling the prickling heat of anger and hate for the world and everything in it that lingered on his skin at all times grow stronger, humming through his veins. The words he had endured for years from Logan’s own mouth and those that rippled from them echoed in his ears. Loser. Loner. Fag. Gay boy. Emo kid.

Logan may be here, but he didn’t have to engage with his games. He put his headphones on and resolutely turned away from him. He heard Logan say something in protest but he relished in not being able to hear what it was. He saw Logan sit on his bed again beside him in his peripheral istanbul travestileri vision but he ignored him.

“Who’s that?” He heard him this time.

“Is that you? Oh sweet you can- ah nice shot!”

Alex cursed Logan’s natural charisma. He seemed so effortlessly calm and collected, like there had never been any issue between them. Like they had always been great friends. How could he do that? He envied him.

“Can I have a go?” He pushed Alex’s chair with his foot.

“No,” he growled.

“2 player then. I can see you’ve got a spare controller for your PS4. Got any good games? Oh look we used to play this! Is it this game?”

He held up Starwars Battlefront and Alex nodded.

“Let’s play it!”

“No.”

“Ok how about a bet. If you win, I leave.”

Suddenly he had his attention. Logan had a mischievous glint in his eyes that at the same time unsettled him and sent a uncontrollable thrill through his guts. Fuck. This again? Why couldn’t he just hate him plain and simple.

“You mean it?”

“Sure. If you win I will leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

“And if you win…?” He asked cautiously.

“I pick the next game,” Logan said cheerfully.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Alex lent forward and took the game from Logan and started it up.

“Shotgun rebels,” Logan grinned as he passed him the spare controller.

Alex felt a confident smugness, he knew he would be able to beat Logan. He was a good gamer. Granted he hadn’t played this particular game in a while but it wouldn’t be hard. Before he knew it his confidence slipped to horror.

“Yes!” Logan cheered. Alex sat staring at the screen in shock. Defeat was flashing on his side of the screen and he scowled, throwing down the controller in annoyance.

“What’s the game then,” he snapped turning his chair towards the bed and taking off his headphones. A small voice in his brain registered Logan lying casually on his bed and wondered if his smell would linger on the sheets. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. Logan grinned. Alex was unpleasantly reminded of paintings of Gods lying just like this. He wouldn’t have looked out of place in a painting like that.

“A personal favourite. Truth or Dare.”

Alex blinked, struggling to focus on his words for a second, and then, finally understanding he scowled.

“No. That’s cheating.”

“Why? It’s a game. I chose it. Deals a deal Alex.”

He glared at him, but knew he was right. He should have known Logan would trick him.

“Fine.”

“Excellent. You start,” he said with a smug expression. Of course.

“Truth,” he said. Wary of the grin spreading further across Logan’s face.

“How many people have you slept with?” Logan asked, barely even a hesitation as he leaned forward, biting his lip and smirking. Alex took a moment to breathe.

“Three,” he lied lamely.

Logan raised his eyebrow, “you’re still a terrible liar then.”

He glared at him furiously, but knew that Logan already knew the answer. There wasn’t much point continuing the lies. Why did he even have to make him say it?

“None,” he muttered. Wincing as he waited for some joke or tease from Logan, but he only nodded his head once.

“My turn then,” Logan said, “truth.”

Alex mulled this over for a moment. Perhaps this game wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Why are you here? Really?”

Logan shrugged. “Your mum asked me. I thought it would be fun. Besides I’ve missed hanging out with you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Alex scoffed but Logan just laughed.

“It’s the honest truth. It’s been a while, I wanted to see you. Call me.. curious.”

Despite everything, Alex felt like Logan was being honest. Deliberately cryptic perhaps, but honest. He leaned back into his gaming chair, relaxing a little despite himself. His hands wrapped around himself protectively as he spoke.

“Truth.”

“Ok, let’s spice this up a little,” Logan moved forward even further, his knees brushed against Alex’s as he put his hands on the arm rests of the chair, staring at him with a fixed and intense expression. Alex tensed, his mouth dry. Logan’s eyes were piercing him, holding him captive. He loathed him, and he loathed himself for relishing in those eyes despite everything.

“Do you, or at least did you… find me attractive?”

Alex felt his chest tighten. He was locked in that gaze, his mouth opening to say a witty retort that couldn’t come. He blinked, breaking the spell and shook his head.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“No it’s not I just- I’m done with this game we aren’t kids!”

“You agreed to play a game of my choice, and I say the game isn’t over yet. I take this reaction as a yes.”

“It’s not a yes.”

“Then say no.”

Alex opened his mouth to say the word but couldn’t force it from his lips. The hatred for himself and for Logan rose in his throat like bile. His eyes felt hot, his neck prickling.

Logan leaned forward slowly, and Alex froze. Disbelief and travesti istanbul shock holding him in place as Logan brushed his lips against his. Gently and soft, so soft it was barely even a kiss. A tease of what could be. Logan leaned back, and smirked watching him with a curious expression.

Eventually Alex regained the ability of speech.

“You asshole,” he hissed.

“My turn. Truth.”

“Again?”

“I know you just want to dare me to leave, I’m not an idiot. Truth.”

Shit.

“Why did you just do that?” He whispered, he felt the hurt in his voice and wished he could crawl into a hole. His eyes burned and with thick crushing shame, he felt tears well up uncontrollably, blurring his vision and clogging his throat.

“I wanted to. I told you, I’m curious about you.” Logan spoke so calmly, level headed, as if they were talking about what they were having for dinner. It infuriated him.

“This is fucked up!” Alex growled, pushing his chair away from the bed and hugging his legs to his chest. He felt the angry tears fall, burning tracks down his cheeks and he brushed them away angrilly, pulling the cords of his hood so it closed tighter around his head, his black fringe hiding his eyes. “You call me a fag and ruin my life for years then just come in here and- and-“

“Jesus Alex you’re still holding that grudge. It’s not my fault you were unpopular!”

“You didn’t help me! You were my friend! You spread rumours about me, called me names, you even scratched fag into my locker remember that?”

“It’s just jokes! It was just harmless pranks!”

Alex laughed incredulously. “You’re serious aren’t you? You have no idea. I need some air.”

He stood and headed straight to the bathroom, locking the door and leaning his pounding head against it. What was going on? Logan had definitely kissed him. Why? Was this another joke? Was he gay? Was Alex just some experiment? Or, his stomach jolted, was this all just another trick?

It wouldn’t be the first time. Logan loved a trick. He remembered vividly the photoshopped photo of him in a dress that was taped to every classroom door one Monday morning. Or the time his PE trainers were filled with yoghurt from the school cafeteria. Was this another planned out prank? But how could he claim Alex was gay, without incriminating himself in the process?

He went to the sink and washed his face, scrubbing the sensation of Logan’s lips from his own. He looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath before heading back to his room. To his relief Logan had gone.

He looked around the whole house, but he had left without a sound. Relieved and also, frustratingly, a little disappointed he returned to his bedroom. He went back onto his computer games and began playing, but as he played he felt tense. He couldn’t explain why but something unsettled him. Why had Logan left so quickly? He paused the game and looked around. Everything was exactly as it should be.

He shook his head, he was clearly paranoid. After an hour on his computer he yawned and noticed it had gotten late. He crawled into bed and reached under his pillow for his diary. His fingers felt the soft sheets, but the cool cover of the book was not there. He lifted the pillow, his heart suddenly beating quickly. No. He couldn’t have. He looked down the back and sides of the bed, but it was not there. And there was only one place it could be.

He logged into Facebook on his computer and typed a frantic message.

You: GIVE IT BACK.

Logan read the message almost instantly, the mother fucker had been waiting for this.

Logan: Hey bud! Long time no text!

You: You took my journal.

Logan: Oh that’s what it is! Wasn’t sure if you were writing a really depressing story.

Logan: I like how much I get mentioned though, great for the ego.

Logan: 😉

You: It’s private you dickhead.

Logan: well, I tried the nice way and you weren’t playing ball. So we can do things the hard way.

Logan: this ways much more fun for me anyway.

You: what do you mean?

Logan: You do what I say or I share all your private diary entries online. Bet your mum would love that you called her a bitch… and everyone would know how you dreamed about me fucking you.

Alex breathed a sharp breath and slammed his fist into the desk. He was cornered. Fucking Logan. He knew he had him.

You: fine. Just please give it back.

Logan: sure thing. I’ll bring it back when I’ve finished it. I’ll make sure to save my pictures somewhere safe first 😉

Logan: can’t wait for the fun we’ll have… just like old times.

Alex didn’t reply. He logged off and crawled into bed, but his eyes stayed open fixed at a point on the wall like a zombie until late until the night.

***

He started awake when he heard the doorbell ring the next day. He had overslept and it was already the afternoon. He considered getting up to let Logan in, but knowing he would find his own way in anyway he pulled his covers over his head, enjoying the last seconds of peace.

The door banged open and before he knew it the covers were torn away from him. The cool air tickled at his bare legs, having slept only in boxers and his hoodie. He scowled at Logan who grinned with the confidence of a someone who always got what they wanted.

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