Autumn 1999; Sophomore Year
B E C K E T T “...this will be your first group assignment for the semester. We will pair off into groups of two, and each will be responsible for photographing two…”
A sudden nudge against his ribs, and Beckett was looking to the boy at his left. Aidan Miller shot him a grin and raised a ‘brow, silently communicating a belief that they should be partners for the project Mrs. Rhine was explaining, and that Beck was now missing. He and the blonde had been friends for years, and he knew better than anyone that Aidan lacked the patience for the arts. He was a jock, through and through, with no desire or care to do anything more than the bare minimum. And frankly, that just wasn’t going to cut it for the brunette. With his mother’s constant nagging about his grades, she would lose her mind if he came home failing art of all things. That meant he actually had to try, and have a partner that, at the very least, knew what they were doing.
“...and creating one point perspective drawings of each.”
Beck scowled at Aidan and shook his head, ignoring the look of surprise he received in return for the sake of the scanning over the art room and the various faces spread across the tables. Having known many of them for years, now, it was fairly easy to assess who would partner up with friends, or those more willing to branch out and test the waters with someone new. There were shared glances across tabletops, wild whispering by neighbors. Everyone knew where they were headed, and with who they would be aiming to work with. That was the thing about high school; everyone had their friend group, and lord be damned if one stepped foot out of it. Too bad Beck never was much of a follower, hardly fitting into one group, but welcomed across a few.
At first, his gaze passed over him, only to do a double take and settle on the boy situated near the back of the room. They had never interacted with each other before, nor had they even so much as spoken a word, but Beck knew of him. A quiet and reserved kid, more likely to spend time alone than with others, and with a quite a bit of artistic talent. In other words, the best chance he had at getting a decent partner for this project. And as soon as Mrs. Rhine released them to begin work, Beck was standing from his table and moving across the room in pure determination, and without hesitation. He had made no stops, no other glances around the room for other options. Aidan stared after him in disbelief, but he hardly saw it, only to drop down onto the stool at the back table, across from Renard.
His lips curled into a grin, quirking up an eyebrow as he appraised the boy opposite him. “Hey, there. Ren, right?” he asked, pressing his elbows into the wood of the tabletop and leaning forward. “I’m Beckett. Beck for short, and your new partner for this project, if that’s okay with you.”
R E N A R D
The day was going about as well as could be expected. His family believed in eating meals together; which meant that they usually woke up early for a breakfast that normally consisted of strong coffee, eggs and bacon. In Renard’s case, this was usually a third of a waffle torn into little pieces by hand, and occasionally dipped into some syrup. Theirs was an academic family. Both of Ren’s parents were college literature professors, and his name was a reflection of that, paired with that of his older sibling Isengrim. Of course, the kids at school didn’t really get that, and the jabs at it reflected a reading level consistent with someone in elementary school. Notably, he’d been called ‘Rentard’ for as long as he could remember. And of course, at the community breakfast table, Hillstrom Croft had brought up that by Sophomore year, Isengrim was in at least six extracurriculars and was already being mentioned as a pick for the National Honor Society induction ceremony. And Ren, of course, was in exactly zero activities outside of his classes. That was always how his parents brought up the subject of doing ‘more’, by comparing him to his sibling. And of course, that was just a reminder that Isengrim was going to be visiting for the weekend. Which Ren frankly hadn’t wanted to think about.
School was a practice in focus or lack thereof. He had a tendency to drift through it as if he was barely there mentally. He spent most of his time drawing little doodles in the margins of his notebooks, not actually taking notes. Sometimes he would break out his sketch pad and didn’t even bother with the pretense. He ignored all of the other students where possible. In fact, his ideal interaction with most people involved him looking through them and them not even seeing him. He managed to make passing grades, which his parents had given up trying to get him to improve a few years back. Most teachers assumed (correctly), that he just didn’t care, and that he could have done better if he really wanted to.
Life, for him, was a little bit like walking through a thick haze.
A haze that dissipated the moment someone moved to sit across from him. He had been in the process of using a bit of graphite to outline something in the middle of his notepad. Of course, Beck could see what it was upside down. It looked to be a self-portrait, only the only features on Ren’s face that one could make out were his lips, chin and jaw. His eyes, nose, and the top of his head were all covered by this wild tangle of thorns and the flying of locusts. Where the thorns dug into skin, there were trickles of blood.
He glanced up from his page and he picked the notebook up, dropping it against his chest as he leaned back in his seat. He honestly hadn’t heard what Mrs. Rhine was saying outside of some vague mention of a project. He hated them because he preferred to work on his own. But he was a favored partner because he normally did all of the work, and let whoever he was ‘working’ with take half of the credit regardless. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, giving it a little chew before his brows both lifted high above his eyes, which were the color of amber melting into molten gold. The first thing he noticed about Beck was his smile. He just stared at it for a moment and then his gaze averted. “Renard Croft.” He greeted. Renard Octavian Croft actually. “Sure.” He supplied afterwards. He was ambivalent about who he ended up partnering with. But the way Beck smiled…
It was weird. It was warm and it was kind. It was as if Ren could actually feel eyes on him for the first time in a long time. He extended his hand across the table to offer it up for a shake. Was that the right way to greet someone new? “Yeah, I’d love to work with you.” He amended.
B E C K E T T
Bullying was an aspect of school that every student knew of in some form or another; there were the bullies, the bullied, and the bystanders. As terrible as it was, many of Beck’s friends fell into the ‘bullies’ category. Deeming themselves the ‘in’ or ‘popular’ crowd, simply because they played sports and were generally well known throughout the halls. If it weren’t for the fact that he, himself, also took part in those sports, he likely wouldn’t have spent much time with them. Their humor was crude, at best, but they had long since given up on trying to get Beck to take part in their cruelty. No, he tended to be a bystander, watching without ever really intervening, despite the fact that he hated to see the way it broke their victim down. And he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Renard was one of those that fell into ‘bullied.’ He had heard the name circulated more than once, ‘Rentard,’ but he had never actually been present when it was used directly to the boy’s face.
Which was likely why Aidan, in part, continued to stare open mouthed in their direction, like a frog just waiting for a bug to fly into its mouth. It was a fitting look for him, really.
“Well, if we are going on a full name basis, here…” Beck replied, lowering his hand to take the one offered, giving it a quick shake. He didn’t release his hold right away, instead maintaining it for just a second too long, meeting an amber gaze with that of a soft and muted green. Less like a gemstone, and more like the churning waves of the ocean during a storm. “Beckett Sutton.” Only then did he allow that touch to end, choosing to prop up his elbow, palm flat so that his chin could drop into it and fingers could curl in against his cheek. “Really, though. All my friends call me Beck. Would it be alright, Renard Croft, if I call you Ren?” His head dropped to the side, supported by the knuckles of the curled digits against his cheek, though his attention on the other boy never shifted. “And, it’s a good thing you agreed, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me, anyway. Everyone else has already paired off.” To prove the point, he gestured with his free hand to to the rest of the room where groups were getting situated, waiting impatiently for their teacher to come by and give them the necessary supplies to begin.
Just then, Mrs. Rhine stopped at their table, greeting them with her overly enthusiastic smile. “Ready to go, boys?” Beck’s eyes roamed up to watch the woman through his eyelashes, though he remained angled toward Ren. They seemed to crinkle at the corners as they momentarily narrowed, as if annoyed with the interruption. His grand smile was back in an instant, all evidence to the contrary wiped away as he sat up straight and nodded. “Alright, here is your camera, and the hall pass. You both know my rules. Any misbehavior, and you will spend the rest of the class period in here with me, while your fellow students continue their work elsewhere.” Her tone was breezy, despite the threat, and Beck couldn’t help but think it a bit unnecessary. Trouble making in school wasn’t his gig.
When she breezed away to set up the next group, he once again focused on his partner and shrugged. “So, from what I was able to gather, no thanks to Aidan…” he began, glancing down at the camera between them. “We have to wander around the school and take pictures for our perspective drawings. Something about...same locations from different point of views…” he mumbled, standing up from the stool with the hall pass in hand and camera in the other. “Where do you think we should start?”
R E N A R D
It was impossible for him not to peer into the other boy’s eyes, even as their hands remained locked together. The touch didn’t last forever, but for Ren; it was an eternity in a single moment. He wasn’t used to that kind of contact. His parents were not affectionate people by nature, and Isengrim’s attention left something to be desired. There had been one point when his fellow students had enjoyed doing things like spitting wadded up bits of paper at him. Or smacking him in the back of the head. That had gone on from about second grade until his Freshman year in High School, when he had finally had enough. He’d been in class at the time, trying to read the first Harry Potter book, which had only just been released in the States. One of the other boys had been blowing against the back of his hair the entire class, and he’d been ignoring it.
SMACK!
The fingers and palm had cracked against his skull with enough force that he’d seen white along the edges of his vision. And then he’d been up. He’d twisted in his seat, one knee anchored into the place his butt had been, and he took the closed hardcover book, slammed it right into the side of the other boy’s face so hard that it had triggered a seizure. Complete with the youth falling out of his chair and then vomiting on the floor very shortly after. Ren had been suspended for a week. Originally, the school had been threatening expulsion, and honestly Renard would have been fine with that. Except his parents didn’t want that on his record. So they had very politely reminded the administrators that their son had a long history of being bullied, and that normally nothing was ever done about it. It had been the only time Ren had ever known them to stand up for him. The thing had blown over eventually, and from that point on...well. Sure. People called him names and said all sorts of things about him. But nobody fucked with him like that. Nobody laid a hand on him.
But he liked the way the other boy’s hand felt in his own. And the look in his eyes was just so...it was just nice. Bright. Full of life in a way that his own did not reflect. He realized that he liked the attention, the attention of some guy he’d only ever seen before but never really met. He felt heat rise in his neck and blossom like pink and red petals over his cheeks. He suddenly felt very embarrassed for no good reason. Like there were little flutters in his belly like dancing butterflies. And then Beck said his name. Ren had never been super attached to his name, due largely to the way it was abused at school. But the way Beck said it made him want to hear it over and over again. “Yeah.” He said. And then he cleared his throat because, for some strange reason, his voice had cracked and gone much higher pitched.
“Yeah. You can call me Ren.” He repeated as his hands dropped to the table and then dragged back to drop into his lap. He kept trying to drag his gaze away from the other male, averting it towards the back of his notebook, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from glancing back, peering into those eyes over and over again. Thankfully, he was saved from making a fool of himself by the teacher, who handed off a camera and gave them some ground rules to work with. Moments later, she was leaving, and the rest of the class was beginning to depart. Renard began stuffing his things back into his bag, moving to stand awkwardly, a hand lifting so he could scratch against the back of his head in thought. The youth wore dark jeans, a black band t-shirt, and a plaid over-shirt which he’d already removed so he could tie the long sleeves around his waist. There was talk of the school moving to a uniform the following year, and he absolutely hated that idea. “Follow me.” He said before reaching for Beck’s hand. Admittedly, he just wanted an excuse to touch the other boy. And then he was tugging him through the door and out into the hall. He immediately darted towards the stairs, his grip tight, arm dragged behind him.
Several minutes later, they were exiting onto the flat roof of the school. Of course, they’d had to go up several flights of stairs to get there, and technically they weren’t supposed to be there, because the only ones who had access were the janitors and the agriculture club. The top of the school had been turned into a garden, lush with green life and scattered with benches. Most of the things growing up there were fruits and vegetables in rows. It wasn’t necessarily beautiful, but it looked out onto the entire school. To the north were the tennis courts, and some additional buildings to house sport facilities for basketball, and swim team. There were a football and baseball field to the east. To the west was an enormous hedge maze which had been donated by one of the alumnus classes, and featured prominently during parent teacher nights.
There was a detached theater as well which was often converted into a ballroom for dances. Really though, the best view was the forest in the distance, which seemed to stretch into the horizon, with Mount Rainier taking up part of the sky. “We’re here!” He said before finally letting go of Beck’s hand reluctantly. “The best view the school has to offer.” He gestured towards the wild lands with a faint smile.b
B E C K E T T
Students filed out of the room with their respectives partners, talking excitedly amongst themselves at the notion of getting free roam of the school rather than being stuck in the classroom. Beck was just as eager to leave, but he remained rooted to the spot next to their table, showing a surprising amount of patience while Ren gathered up his things. Before leaving the room, Aidan came over with Beck’s backpack in hand, passing it off with a silent scowl at the loner. The blonde opened his mouth, clearly with an intention to say something, but one glance at his friend and the hard glare leveled in his direction had his mouth closing a second later before turning on his heel and heading for the door. “Mature…” Beck muttered under his breath, eyes moving toward the ceiling. Only Aidan would act that childish over partnering up for an art project, and he didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what the jock had been prepared to do. Spout off some names and act superior for the sake of making himself feel better about the fact his best friend had chosen Ren over him.
His gaze dropped back to his partner after a slow count of three, only to find him practically at his side. A hand slipped over his own, accompanied by Ren’s instruction to follow along. Beck could have drilled holes through the guy’s back, the way he stared at it in mild surprise and confusion. For one, even though he could have easily kept up without it, that physical connection remained intact, the grip tightening like he may disappear if he were to let go as they moved through the halls and up the staircases. For a kid that kept to himself, Beck wouldn’t have expected him to be quite so...tactile. Two, he had literally no idea where they were going and it appeared that Ren had no intentions of telling him, either, but their pace was quick and the usually ignored staircase leading out to the roof provided the only answer he needed, in the end.
Once his hand was released, Beck blinked and moved toward the ledge while dropping his backpack against it, leaning over in order to get the full effect of the school spread out below with the mountain serving as its scenic backdrop. It was a pretty decent view, considering that the city spread out on either side, tainting it with the concrete jungle before the wild stretch of forest took over. He turned around to face Ren with a quirked eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curled upward into a knowing little smirk, “So, how often do you break the rules to come up here?” The roof being off limits was well known through the student body, and up until that point, Beck had never ventured there. It was a notorious makeout spot, couples attempting to sneak away for some quiet time, or the place where skippers went to avoid attending classes. Poorly patrolled, but every so often you heard for someone getting detention for getting caught. He didn’t expect Ren to be the kind that came up with for a good makeout session, but he had been wrong about people more than once in his life.
Glancing over his shoulder at the view once more, he contemplated the subject for the photographs, and how ridiculously difficult it was going to be to draw, and he was no Picasso. He was, however, pretty decent at photography. It hadn’t developed into a full blown hobby, per se, but he enjoyed capturing the moments that faded from memory with time. Stepping away from the ledge, he backed up a few steps while bringing the viewfinder to his eye, finagling with the lens in order to bring more of the grounds into focus, so that the mountain blurred in the background. If he stood at just the right spot on the roof, he could get the layout of the school grounds without the city ruining the shot. “I saw your drawing, by the way. Back in class. You’re pretty talented, even if a little morbid.” The camera lowered, glancing over at Ren with a teasing grin.
R E N A R D
He caught the look Aidan wore, and the truth was that he was so used to people making cracks about him that he mostly ignored it. Sometimes he joined in and made fun of himself, because it was easier to laugh than to get upset. Especially when the school wouldn’t do anything about it. Of course, the laughter was really just a good way of covering for how lonely he really felt. So he waited for some jab that never came. And that was when he saw the look on Beck’s face. Maybe that was why he rushed out of the room, trying to stay ahead of the other boy, so that Beckett couldn’t see the way his features seemed to splash a deep, warming red. His heart was racing, and it wasn’t from the running up the stairs. Nobody had ever stood up for him before. Even a little. Even with just a look. It made his chest feel tight, and his stomach feel a little bit sick. His throat felt like it was closing up and he had to suck in fresh, clean air as soon as they were on the roof. By the time he let Beck get another look at him, most of that blushing had died down. But his pupils were dilated and he was wearing this grin. Which probably looked odd on his face, because normally he went through life seemingly devoid of expression at all.
Along the way, very active parts of his body had responded as well, and he was thankful for the draping of the sleeves of his plaid shirt, because they hid the evidence. Of course. At that age, Ren seemed to have that problem at the drop of a hat, so it literally could have been any number of things to have caused it...including but not limited to: Standing up, sitting down, staring off into space, holding a pencil, breathing, walking, thinking, not thinking, sleeping, eating, and twiddling his thumbs.
“All the time.” He admitted. Beck took the camera and began to look through the viewfinder, which left Ren to take a seat on the roof, his back pressed against one of the steel and aluminum benches which had been bolted down. He reached for his pencil case in his bag and then for his sketch pad, which was filled almost to the brim with his drawings. Most of them were monochrome and dark. Some of them had bright splashes of red or the cold chill of blue. Though really those were the only colors he worked in. “Look at that mountain.” He said as he glanced towards it. “It’s like seeing the spine of the Earth breaking through its flesh.” He mused as he sucked his lower lip between his teeth to tighten his jaw just a little, squeezing and rolling the flesh. “It’s hard for me not to look at that and feel grounded. Like it’s so distant and beautiful. You feel like you can reach out and touch it, and just get away from this place.” He said. It was, as far as anyone knew, more than Ren had said to any person probably ever. In one sitting certainly. For several people at the school, it was more than he’d said to them in the entire year and change he’d been there.
But he was still riding a little high on the feeling he got when he looked at Beck. And it was like he couldn’t shut up. Like he was telling himself to stop talking. He kept telling himself that he sounded absolutely ridiculous and he probably came across like a crazy guy. And why couldn’t he just make his mouth close and not open? It just took looking at Beck and he started talking again. Like he desperately wanted to answer every single question that was posed to him. Maybe he was just starved for attention. For someone to share his perspective of the world and see things through his eyes. Even still. He kept saying to himself You need to shut up. You need to shut up. You need to shut up. You’re going to weird him out and he won’t want to talk to you anymore. Just play it cool. Come on. Play it cool. He’s never going to like you.
“I like to come here after school because it’s so beautiful. Plus my mom and dad go to bed super early because they have early classes throughout the week. Usually I can stay here and avoid them until dinner. “ And then he usually played Sega games until he passed out. Sure. The N64 had come out only a few years before, but nothing beat Sega. Especially Sonic.
And then Beck brought up the drawing.
He Ren straightened his back a little as he pulled his pencil case open so he could glance out over the edge of the building in the direction Beck was taking pictures. “Yeah. Mrs. Rhine says I have a very dark perspective, but she really seems to like it. She says I’m a ‘young Tim Burton’. I think she just lumps me in with him because she doesn’t get it. But I appreciate the grades so I’m not about to complain. Thanks though. I mean that’s nice of you to say.” He shrugged then, his gaze following Beck. And that was what he decided he was going to draw. Beckett taking pictures. So he lowered a pencil to paper and began to make the lines of the other boy’s body.
“What about you? Where would you have gone if I’d let you? What do you consider the most beautiful sight on the campus?” And then a pause.
B E C K E T T
Knowledge of Ren was sketchy, at best, by anyone in the school that knew him, but there were some facts that were generally accepted. First, he was loner and preferred to spend his time alone than with others. Second, he was the subject of bullying more often than not, usually taken advantage of in some way when it came to academics. And third, he wasn’t much of a talker. If he was required to, replies were short and to the point while never going out of his way to be the first one to open his mouth. So, the sound of his voice over the silence of the roof was unexpected, leaving Beck to openly stare at him once the camera dropped. He lacked experience with the boy, sure, but he appeared more animated than he had ever seen him before. More than he thought him capable of. Maybe it could be chalked up to the fact that they were in his element, working from an artistic lens that he could relate to and enjoy, but either way, it was such a drastic difference that Beck couldn’t help but to feel momentarily caught off guard. It was only when he realized he was still staring that he blinked rapidly and looked away, focusing once more on the mountain in the distance.
“I didn’t say it to be nice, but you’re welcome, regardless.” While he lacked much of an ability in many artistic mediums, he could appreciate the talents of others and Ren had it. People deserved to know when they excelled at something, especially if the praise was rare. “I’m sure to some, it just comes across as the work of an angsty teenager, but I assume those few don’t know much about art…” he mused aloud, pursing his lips before breaking into a sudden laugh. “Not that I do. I won’t lie to you, Ren, but you are most definitely going to carry us for the drawing portion of this project. I’ll do my best, and all, but you’ll end up correcting most of my attempts to help. I can, at the very least, get us some good photographs to work with, though.” A shake of his head and the laughter died down into a smile.
The question posed to him made him look to Ren, who had since begun to sketch. At that point, Beck wouldn’t have taken a guess as to what the subject for it was, but he watched in quiet interest for a minute before finally opening up his mouth to provide an answer. “I’m...not really sure where I would have gone, to be honest…” he trailed off, voice dropping off into silence. Without finishing his thought, he raised the Nikon up in one quick motion before Ren could glance up and quickly captured his partner, head bent over the paper, pencil poised. Glancing down at the digital display, he smirked. It was a good shot, but candids usually were. Moments where there was no posing, no artificial emotion. They were real, raw, and that made them beautiful. “Maybe the courtyard, or the fountain at the center of the maze? But, those sound kind of cliche…”
Some of what Ren said seemed to sink in, then, and Beck shot him another glance while he focused the camera once more in the direction of Mount Rainier, completely ignoring the school grounds, even though they were supposed to be the subject matter for their project. The click of the shutter sounded twice as he snapped a couple images, taking that time to collect his thoughts. They were passing comments, and he didn’t have to acknowledge them, didn’t have to ask why it was that Ren avoided going home or wanted to get away from it, all. He supposed, in a way, he couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to get away from school, of all places. It wasn’t a particularly far fetched notion, considering the treatment he got. But, Beck was a nosey SOB, and couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “So…” he began, pausing briefly as he considered saying something totally irrelevant to his previous thoughts. “Why do you avoid your parents? Do you not get along?” So much for that.
“You...don’t have to answer that, if you don’t want to. Maybe something simpler, like...do you have any siblings? Actually...simpler than that, other than drawing, what do you do in your free time?” The questions came rapid fire, like he was somehow invading Ren’s personal life by asking anything related to his home life, because...they didn’t know each other like that. Sure, the only way to know each other was to ask those questions, but this was an art project and it wasn’t like this was necessarily the start to some great friendship. Hell, for all he knew, once this was over, they would go back to never speaking. And in that case, the less they knew about each other...the better.
R E N A R D
Cheesy as it was, Ren really liked the sound of Beck’s voice. The way the other man’s laughter seemed to dance around him like little fairies and fill his chest with air and light. Why had Renard never noticed him before? They had been in a few classes together before, but Ren had just...never looked at him for more than a few seconds at a time. He had never looked into his eyes. In fact, he made it his habit to not look people in the eyes unless he had to. Occasionally he would keep his gaze locked on their lips. The only break in this pattern was when someone pushed him too far, and brought out that defiant, cornered-animal side of him. Sitting there, he decided he liked the shape of the other boy. He stared at him openly. He was free to, because they were having a conversation, working on a project together. And so he looked from his page up to Beck and then back down, capturing the way his hair moved in the breeze. On the page, those strands turned into the petals of cherry blossoms, and they seemed to have their own life and motion.
The other boy’s face was long, with sharp angles. His nose was just a little bit crooked, which made Ren wonder if it had ever been broken. And then there those thick brows and a lower lip that looked so plump, Renard had to resist the urge to get up, go over and touch, just to see if they were real. And if they were, to taste if they were as sweet as the fruit they brought to mind. Of course. He remained planted where he was. Beck was...quite muscular. Which Ren was careful to gloss over because focusing too long on that made his stomach feel really funny. “Drawing is easy.” He decided. “You just have to picture what it is you want to see on the page and make it happen. What most people don’t get is the muscle memory. They can’t make their fingers bring to life what is in their head so they give up. Though if you want, I could help you out.” He offered before he glanced to the spot beside him.
“And thanks.” He said, his back straightening just a little bit. He was used to teachers praising him for his artistic ability. But other students never seemed to care. His parents actually hated it. “You make for a really good model.” He admitted. “Your features are classic and handsome. But you...look like you have this secret.” His brows furrowed together as he looked down at his page. “Like there’s something dark in there, dark and wild. Roguish and beautiful. I wish I could capture your eyes. There’s something in there all caged up and I can’t make it…” He trailed off, realizing he’d said quite a lot more out loud than he’d meant to. His eyes widened a fraction and he glanced to Beck, almost hopeful the other boy hadn’t heard him somehow.
“Oh yeah! That’s a good spot. I like the maze too because almost nobody ever goes in there during the school day.” He was more than happy to move on to another topic when the chance was offered to him. And it seemed the other boy was more than happy to provide any number of questions. In truth, Ren’s first response was to clam up a little bit. He wasn’t used to people being so curious about him, and there was a single little moment of doubt when he thought maybe it was just some kind of hoax and later, Beck was going to tell all his secrets to everyone. Except...those eyes.
His lips formed a thin line as he stared at his drawing as if to say ‘You’re making my life really hard right now, you know that?’.
“My parents and I don’t get along. They have a lot of ideas about what I should be doing with my life and doing with my future. I’m doing exactly none of those things, which they take every opportunity to point out. Usually they compare me to Isen, my brother. He’s better at me than everything. Sports. Academics. He’s five years older than me, but you’ve probably heard of him. Isengrim August Croft. He’s the best at absolutely everything he touches.” Of course. The way Ren said it, he seemed to just be reciting fact. There was no emotion to it. No pride in his sibling. If anything, his gaze shifted and his features seemed to cloud over a little bit. He absently pulled at his band t-shirt, to try and cover a small bruise on his arm - barely noticeable.
“I would just rather avoid them. That way they don’t have to be disappointed and I don’t have to listen to lectures. They’re college professors. Think everyone wants to hear them drone on.” He said with a bit of an attempted chuckle, which came out more like a dry wheeze of a laugh. Okay. So maybe cracking jokes wasn’t really his strong suit. “And I like to...” Vigorously masturbate. Listen to pulse pounding, brain numbing, hard rock and thrash metal. Invest in spray paint and tag buildings, act like a kleptomaniac, set fires and watch them burn for hours. Masturbate some more. Go to underground concerts. Hang out with kids in college and get drunk. Call into radio shows with made up personalities and commit to them hardcore. Masturbate a little more. Go to coffee shops. Write and listen to poetry. Play video games. Collect weird **** like bones and fossils and dead bugs...oh. And masturbate to round it all out. Damned teenager hormones. “I’m totally into all sorts of stuff. Lately I’ve been replaying my old Sega games. Sonic and Knuckles is the one I’m currently on. Oh, and I read a lot. “ He decided it was for the best to...stick to the tamer side of his interests. But he wasn’t lying. He was interested in all sorts of things. Most of them just weren’t very legal. He was good at hiding that though.
Except that answer made him seem so...young. “Maybe later I’ll show you some of the other stuff I’m into. Depending on how nice you are.” And then he winked. Why the HELL had he winked?! But he did. And he couldn’t take it back. Jesus ******* Christ what was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he act right around Beck?
“So yeah. What about you? Tell me everything.”
[TO BE CONTINUED]
