When David stepped outside the bar, his mind didn't. It stayed on the booze for about a little while, then it eased itself off. Nothing much.
The city was bustling with the same cars and the same people, walking the same road to different parts of their life. Phoenix held some life, but life had its way of surprising simple folks. Simple folks like David. And as he came down alongside, he started to think again. But at the same time, it gave him considerable pain to just start thinking, let alone walking. No one could understand him, he couldn't understand them. It was as simple as that.
And it was raining as well. It could be a bunch of reasons. And you have to understand sometimes. Some people just don't like grey skies, some don't like the rain and some don't mind. Some prefer actual answers over the other person's answers, some don't like this.
David? I guess you could say that he was stuck in the moment, he couldn't move forward into life or reality right now at this very minute. Or any of the wasted minutes. If there was anything he could go forward for besides Indiana.
So much for comfort, so much for friends. So much for yourself.
Minutes passed. The rain kept going on, skies became a clouded judgement. Finally, after some time dragging his feet along the sidewalk and the road, he saw a bench in a park or somewhere from where he came from. He was tired of walking, tired of talking and without the slightest bit of thought or consideration, he sat down on the wet platform. Soaking into his pants and a little bit of his underwear.
As he looked up, he saw the skies that were a snow greyish kind of color. But it reminded him of Kaylon, then he looked down again. He kinda liked the rain, he just looked up and stared at it for a moment before bobbing his head down. It looked nice compared to the dull blue that shone every day, shining down on the same city and the same people. A nice change in weather for once, something new. But he had nothing to think about, a new perspective on a sheet of paper but no pencil to draw with. He had no answers, thank God that he had no answers. But he had nothing to talk about, the street was boring and every face was blank. And the rain started to become annoying.
After nothing came something. The feeling of helplessness, of tired muscles and these fucking dark-colored bags under his eyes. And he felt like he wanted to die once again, for about the fifth time these past three weeks after Luca was supposed to go back to Indiana. To go back. The person who was angry and flawed, the person known as David, was now an angry, aggressive hollow shell of a person who could be the better person.
And Kaylon... Luca... Indiana.....
Oh, it made his head spin. It made his head twirl, so much he wanted it to stop so he could move on already. To get up. So he could find any strength to just get up and walk it off. Slumped over a bench, his arms and legs hurting and begging but he could try.... I mean, an attempt is better than none at all, right?
He couldn't. That's the problem. He just couldn't. A slightly inebriated person on a bench with a wish no closer to that of death, of wanting to start over somewhere. Or to just end here. Or.... something for that matter.
Who knew what he wanted? Who knew what he desired? Who knew what he wanted or what he desired? What he desired...... His mind switched to that something, Luca. It just stayed there for a while, never moving nor talking about something. It just stayed, fixated.
Luca.
He started to slowly reminisce of her, even though they only knew each other for about a month. And he remembered her red hair, how it flowed as if it was a waterfall. How he liked it short better than how it looked longer. Cowboys, cowgirls. Maybe she could fit as one, she would totally look gorgeous as maybe someone from a ranch. But that was it, a fleeting moment that went away after a while. But he still remembered, he remembered how she looked and slightly less of how she acted and talked. How beautiful she looked every day.
He even remembered walking in the shower, seeing her breasts and herself for just a moment before he realized his mistake. He only chuckled once, a forced half-effort chuckle but nevertheless one all the same.
And he remembered where he was and the rain still there. And Luca was not there. Luca.
In a rage, he screamed and he screamed. He got up from the bench, crunching his muscles and arching his back. Yelling. He ran up to a trashcan and just started kicking the trashcan violently as if it were an immigrant or someone he was bullying to their knees, a kind of hateful violence. And he kicked and he kicked and he kicked, yelling harder and harder and louder and more emotionally than everyone around him. People just stared at him; some went and ran away from the lunatic, others stayed behind to watch a human, one of their own. lash against trash.
Then he stopped. And he went back to the bench, but slipped on the concrete and fell. Fell flat on the right cheek. Maybe some cut on the inside or whatever. But here, he saw the world. Monotonous, grey, lifeless and dull, just shells of people walking around getting to somewhere. No one would care, no one would notice. He was just one of them, one and the same.
So he got up, ran to a road and just waited for a car to hit him. Just waited. Lights were coming, a long tunnel ahead of him. He closed his eyes and stood with open arms....
...till someone pushed him out of the road and landed on top of him on the sidewalk. He stared blankly back at the person. It was the same girl from three weeks ago, the one that he paid to do him.
Silently, and without any remorse, he gently shoved her off him and got up from the sidewalk, walking down the concrete to get away from her and hopefully do something. Anything.
"Wait!" The girl shouted at him, "What are you doing?"
No answer.
The girl walked up to him and turned him around.
"What's wrong with you?" She asked again.
"Nothing."
And he just slowly turned away until he walked away in the rain, head down low. She just stared back at him, confused.
"People don't usually come to me just for sex, David."
He stopped.
"Often times, people come to me to get out of something. I can't vouch for them and say that it's right, but people are just... people sometimes. Look, I know you have problems but I at least want to listen."
He scoffed. "I HAVE NO REASON TO TELL YOU ANYTHING, YOU ANDROGYNOUS TRANS-FUCK!! GET OUT OF HERE!!!!!"
She just stood there. Appalled, she stared at him at disbelief. It was no secret she was transgender, but the way he said it so coldly and so angrily pulled the wrong heartstrings. At least something was crying. And maybe a tear, like the rain above them. And just like that, he left and walked down the street.
And right down the street, for a couple of minutes, he just walked down the street. And some blocks went by, but the rain kept pouring and pouring. Heart broken in different ways, he became silent. No words.
The elevator said nothing, so he said nothing.
And a soft-spoken command came. Then the packing of bags. Something.
Even when they left, the room was already empty before.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
