Disclaimer: This is a FICTIONAL story describing the love triangle of a teenage boy. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you are, then refrain from reading it. The story consists of lust, passion, teenage romance, interracial, love and all the rest of the good stuff in that order... Prepare for sin
Comments welcome to sum1plezzCall_911@hotmail.com
Sorry for SKIPPING THIS CHAPTER
Chapter 17: Shut Up Bitch
'I heard he's getting ass implants' --- Shut Up Bitch 'I heard he's cheating on Tommy you know Tommy, cute Tommy'--- Shut Up Bitch 'Well, I heard he found out Sampson got his cousin Yolanda pregnant'---Shut Up Bitch 'I heard his dick is 9 inches'--- Shut Up Bitch 'I heard he going to be running the gay pride parade.' ----"Shut up Bitch!" I shouted, furiously.
I looked around. Shit, I was daydreaming. I was in middle of my Sociology class and everyone turned around to look at me screaming out. I couldn't believe that it had been the second time this week that I'd been daydreaming in class and not catching myself till it was too late. The day before, I had fallen off my chair from daydreaming. Now I was calling out in class.
The students started to mutter things. They always muttered things about me so it wasn't a surprise. It seemed like everything I did was spread around school. People started to spread the weirdest rumors about me. A lot surrounded my sexuality. None of them made sense at all. Most of them were completely fabricated.
The students in New Brunswick were all so ignorant. It was the only way to describe them. I had become the most important thing in school. At first I thought it was about Trash, but now I knew it was about me being gay. The fact that I was gay had made everyone so NOSY about everything I did.
"Syn," the teacher said, "Did you just tell me to shut up?"
The teacher was a lady with curly hair. She looked real smart. Matter-of-fact, she was one of those people who looked smarter then they really were. She pretended she was smart too. She had her little square glasses and her long Barbara Bush skirt.
"No no," I said, watching everyone laugh, "I didn't tell you to shut up. I mean, you could if you want, but it didn't come from my mouth."
She looked offended and I didn't give a fuck honestly. Truthfully I planned to zone out as soon as she got off my balls and went on trying to make the class believe she was the best thing since John Stuart Mill.
"Syn, have you been paying attention?"
"Why of course Ma'am, who wouldn't pay attention to you?" I asked, looking around to see a couple of kids wanting to raise their hands. They didn't. I knew they were scared. Punks. Where had the virtue in truth gone? Now everybody had to live by the rules to be a good person. How could goodness be measured by this teacher's yardstick, which smashed on the board just so that kids would stop their meaningful conversations to listen to her lies?
"Syn, if you were paying attention," She asked, "Why don't you comment on Connie?"
"Whose Connie?"
I looked around the room. I knew a couple of the kids in the room. Most of their names blended in together, which made sense because they all basically acted the same.
"Connie is on the screen," she explained, realizing I wasn't listening, "Connie is in love with her husband, but her husband verbally abuses her. What is your response to fix such a problem?"
I looked at the tape. It was some drama that was on. The tape was paused but it had paused on a fat woman crying. It was the weirdest point that the teacher had paused it on because Connie looked like she was about to choke on something. She was probably choking on whatever got her so overweight.
"Poor Connie," I said, trying to sound sincere, "What did he say?"
"Well he says that Connie is fat," the teacher said, "He says that Connie isn't the same woman that he fell in love with because she gained 75 pounds. He is no longer intimate with Connie. "
The teacher looked at me with a questioning look as though expecting me to say something. I hesitated, knowing that she really didn't want to hear what I had to say. She DEFINITELY didn't want to hear what I had to fucking say.
"You want to know?" I asked, making certain.
"Sure. How should Connie respond to her husband?"
"She should apologize."
The teacher gasped. She gave me this frozen look of disgust and shock. I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to say anything. They forced me to talk and then when I talked they didn't like what I had to say. I looked around to see the teacher's assistant, some college student who sat on the side, smile slightly.
"Why do you think that Syn?" the teacher's assistant said.
I looked at his nametag, "Well ah Anthony. I think Connie should apologize for becoming so extremely overweight during marriage. Her husband has every right to say that she isn't the woman that he married."
"What an outrage!" the teacher said, "It is just like a young, immature man to say that about a woman, even though in the future she will be bearing his children."
"No, I'm gay," I told the teacher, "no woman is bearing shit for me. Plus, this isn't sexist. I'm simply saying that Connie's husband has the right to want to be with the same person he married."
It was causing a little stir in the class. I should have shut up. People already talked about the shit that I did enough. The last thing that I needed was more reason for people in my business. I knew with the whole class listening that the entire school would know about what I said here in record time. They already knew I was with T- Boy, but it was the first time I had openly admitted to being gay.
"Connie is the same. She just gained a few pounds."
I laughed, "5, 10 or even 15 pounds is a few pounds. 75 pounds is something else."
"Maybe she had children," a girl in the class defended Connie.
I looked back at the girl to say, "No baby is responsible for 75 pounds. Babies don't weigh 75 fucking pounds. There is no inexcusable reason for gaining that much weight."
"Love should be deeper then skin!" Someone said.
Wow they were ganging up on me now. Mostly it was the girls. It was the outspoken girls. It was the loud popular girls and the same girls who spread rumors about me all the time. They thought they knew everything. I guessed they wanted to challenge my logic. The teacher had filled them with moral lies and they believed her only to come back to bug me about it.
"But is it?" I asked looking around and standing up, "If love was deeper then skin why is the ideal couple the most beautiful couple in all cases? Look at Will and Jada Pinkett. Look at Brad and that chick from Friends. They aren't together now, but my point is we see the best matching couples as the most beautiful. If a cute guy and an ugly girl got together, you'd be mad. You'd ask, 'Why is he with her?' I didn't make up these rules, you all did. Don't get mad at me."
"Well, looks don't matter to me," some chick said, rolling her eyes with attitude as though thinking she was above my thoughts.
"Congrats for you," I said, clapping sarcastically, "but honestly you aren't the most attractive girl. Moving on, I would like to make a statement that everyone can agree on."
"What statement?" the outraged teacher blurted, wanting me to hurry up.
"When you first approach someone, you don't look at their personality," I explained, "You don't look at their talents or sincerity. You look at their physical features. Physical features are your first introduction to someone in most circumstances. Do you all agree?"
No one said anything till this bitter girl said, "Yeah, what's your point?"
I continued, "My theory is physical traits and character traits all make up an individual. Why should character traits matter more then physical? My body is just as important as my character. It is a reflection of my character. If a girl can get mad that a guy acts mean to her lately, then a guy should be able to complain that the girl has gotten fat lately. Right?"
"Well "
"The answer is yes," I interrupted, not wanting to wait for her to make up a stupid exception, "My point is that when you fall in love with someone, you fall in love with the individual. You don't just fall in love with the person's personality, but their body as well, because they all make up the individual."
"Syn "
"Can I finish?" I asked politely and continued; "Connie's husband fell in love with Connie. He didn't fall in love with her personality, but her body as well. That is why I believe Connie's husband has the right to be upset."
There was a silence when I sat back down. Everyone was looking at me, but no one really argued anything. They just got kind of silent like either they had been defeated or they just didn't care anymore. I wanted to curse after that just to let go of all the tension that had been in the room, but I didn't. I just sort of watched the teacher's eyes looking at me for the longest time as though I had just done the worst thing to her ever.
"Are you finished?" she slowly said, grinding her words like sand.
I nodded and smiled, trying not to get on her bad side. I had a way of getting on the bad sides of my teachers and they always wanted to fail me. It made them pissed that even though I didn't pay attention in their classes, I made higher grades then the kids who did on the tests. I loved tests. They were the only reason I passed. I hardly participated and had a strong disbelief against homework. I couldn't fail if I aced the tests though.
I hated being in a school where the people found no joy unless someone else was in the spotlight. Every school day was rolling into the same and I was glad this was my last year. I felt caged in this existence of fakeness. I wondered if it was like this outside of Brunswick. I wondered if people were so phony and so out of touch with anything that was different. November had started and they still talked about me all the time because of my sexuality. They just couldn't get over it. I was at the college convention that was in the gymnasium. No one was really interested in it. The seniors used this time to form their own groups of friends and have little conversations. Isis, T-Boy, Big Rob and a few other popular kids were sitting in the corner talking. Shane and Sampson were conversing with another group of people. I stayed by myself. I was the only one who decided to actually look for a college. It would be my only way of escaping this life of phoniness. Everyone wanted to talk to me, but I had nothing to talk to him or her about but myself. I think that was the problem. "Hey," a voice said, touching me on my shoulder. I turned around, annoyed. I figured it was going to be one of those many faceless Brunswick people with no true face, no true personality and nothing else on their minds but whether the rumors about me were true. "Hi," I told the guy, "If you wanted to ask yes, I'm gay." "No, that's not it. I'm Anthony, you know your teacher's assistant for Sociology," the guy said. He was talking as though I cared. Everyone's name in the school sounded the same to me. He was probably the fourth or fifth person to introduce him or herself to me in the week. I couldn't remember one of them. "Yeah, I remember," I lied, smiling and then turning around to look for some pamphlets. Those pamphlets made the schools seemed like heaven. They made college seem as though it was that great escape. It made me wonder if it could really be so satisfactory. Maybe there were people who thought like I did in the colleges. It was called "Higher Learning" for a reason, other then being all grown up. "Your name is Syn right?" the guy asked. I had almost forgotten he was there, "Yeah. Look at this bullshit " I was staring at this brochure. It was all sexed-up. I didn't get what the fuck it was really trying to sell. Was it promoting school or the promise of lots of sex in college? It had two girls in their bikinis tops, daisy Dukes and 'Penn State' logos smeared with body paint over their flat stomachs. If you were going to sell sex, then sell sex, but don't try to put Penn State over it. It was pointless. "See that is what I mean," Anthony said, "Most guys don't got a problem with that, but you see it as bullshit. You are weird." I looked at him and rolled my eyes, "And you are annoying." I moved on to the next table. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Another thing was that people always got so comfortable around other people way too quick. He didn't know who I was. I could have been a serial killer who took shit really personal. "Damn I'm sorry," he said suddenly, "That came out the wrong way. I meant to say you are unique. It's in a good way, trust me." I gave him a look, "Oh " I would have apologized for calling him annoying, but truth was I still thought he was. Why was he following me? He had his hands in his pockets and followed my shadow like he was waiting to get some epiphany out of me. "Well, you might think I'm a little weird too," he told me, "I know I'm not really acting normal by just following you around everywhere." "No, trust me," I assured him, "There are a lot of people around who would like nothing more then be in my shadow 24-7." It was so true. A total of five girls had asked me to go to prom and it was just November. I didn't understand why they would want to go to prom with a guy they knew was gay. It wasn't just that, but they hardly knew me. Everyone was counterfeited. Before no one knew who I was, but suddenly now that I was interesting, everyone wanted to be seen with me. They were envious. They wanted to be center of attention as well. "I would suppose," he said, "You are interesting, that is why I'm here now." I'd heard it time and time again before. I just said, "Thanks I guess. So you just going to follow me or are you going to get to the point?" "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to dinner with me " "I got a boyfriend." That was the good thing about having T-Boy around. Whenever someone asked me out, I could just tell them that I had a boyfriend. It was mostly girls that asked me out though. This guy asking me out was weird. Anthony was older, probably 21 or 22. He looked like one of those college smart guys who loved math. He had square glasses on with dark black rims. He looked gay, just because he was so neat. His pants looked all starched up and pressed. He was cute, in a sophisticated and mature way. He wasn't my type though. He didn't have that extra sexiness to him. He was the type of guy that was only sexy if you were in the mood. He probably had a nice personality though. It was the only reason I was still even talking to him. He laughed, "I am not asking you on a date I am not interested in you that way " "You aren't gay?" "No actually I'm not." "Ok, if you say so then I'm not going to argue," I said. Denial was so stupid. I saw the way Anthony looked at me. He was attracted. I wasn't sure if he was attracted to me physically or in another way, but I knew there was attraction. Then again, what really was gay? Guys loved other men since ancient times. Alexander, Achilles and even Caesar would have been considered gay in our time. Gay was nothing more then a term used to oversimplify the complex feelings of love and romance. He gave me a look; "I just got so eager when you were talking in class. I, personally think your words were the most egotistical, unrefined and offensive thoughts ever argued. Yet they kept me thinking " I smiled. If this guy didn't want to fuck me, then he damn sure was wasting his time charming me like this. I thought about it. He definitely was attracted to me, but maybe not because he wanted to fuck me. Maybe he was attracted to something else. Maybe my words or the way I spoke. Maybe he was attracted to my voice and thoughts. "All these compliments just for dinner?" Anthony gave me another smile, "Its more then dinner. I want you to meet a couple of friends of mine at this banquet. It is for my fraternity. They all have different thoughts and I thought it would be nice if you come to give them a run for their money." He smiled at me again. He was very, very mature. He seemed established, like he was ready to be on the cover of Fortune 500. He was so mature that it was to the point of femininity. He stood completely upright with his chest out. I tried not to keep smiling at him, but it was just funny how extremely unmanly he was. "Ugh I'll pass." My idea of fun wasn't arguing with a room full of people who thought they knew everything. I had my own opinion on things and the last thing I needed was someone telling me their views were better. "Please it can only help you," Anthony appealed, stylishly, "Some of the most important people in Brunswick will be there. The exposure will be limitless. The food will be 1st class. It will be made by Georgic." Important people and exposure were dispensable. I was important enough and I had been getting enough exposure with the whole gay/Trash/Yolanda situation I was in. However, Georgic was a famous chef. The taste of his food was supposed to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. In the past, Ms. Nicole said he used to be Oprah's personal chef. "Do I have to wear a tie?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/////~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/////~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "It's not a date, it's an occasion," I assured T-Boy. He thought Anthony was hitting on me. Truth was, I thought so too. I knew that it was a large possibility. First Sampson started trying to hit on me, then Byron and for a while we thought Shane was hitting on me but it was just Sampson again. Then there were all the D/L guys at school that started hitting on me. It was weird how much more male attention I got when the neighborhood knew you were gay. "Its an occasion for that guy to fuck you," T-Boy laughed, looking at me, "What's wrong?" I was pissed. I walked into my house to smell something. It smelled like sweat and armpits. I hated the fucking smell. I looked around, walking from one room to the next. "You smell that?" I asked T-Boy. I didn't look back but I think he nodded. I walked through the entrance hallway and made my way to the kitchen area. I looked around to see Yolanda. She was sitting in the kitchen. Her feet were in a bucket of hot water and she had a quilt over her. She was drinking some tea or whatever. She looked like shit. Her eyes had black bags underneath them. She was shaking and lips quivered as though she was cold. "Syn how are you?" She muttered, making a smile out of chapped lips. "I'm better then you!" I squirmed, giving her a disgusted look, "You look like a crack-head! Hey, do you have that shit in the house?" Byron walked in at that moment, "She isn't on crack." I looked at Byron. I didn't get him. He was always so polite and helpful. What had happened to the escort that I met in the jail? Where was that guy? He was standing in the kitchen, boiling more tea water like he was the next Martha Stewart. He'd gone from the jail, back to the kitchen in record time. "Byron, why is she in the kitchen without taking a shower?" I asked. "She's sick, Syn." "She isn't fucking sick!" I said, pointing at the little bitch, "She just thinks she is and it's affecting her. She needs to take a shower and get over it." "Someone wants to kill her Syn " Byron said, "Why can't you understand that? This is your cousin. She is family to you. She is going through a rough time right now! Byron sounded so emotional. I waited patiently till his bullshit emotions faded away and he stopped trying to get his Nobel Peace Award. T-Boy had stepped in front of me as though protecting me from hitting Byron. T- Boy was a funny character. I never hit people. Hitting people was T-Boy's way of dealing with things. I guess T- Boy figured that I would react to things like he would. "Byron, for the last time, I don't give a fuck," I explained, "My house stinks." "Would you stop thinking about you for a moment?" "Ok " I said, tapping my foot twice, "The moment's passed. Now tell her to take a shower or I'll throw the bitch out myself. I bet Mercedes would love to see her on the streets alone." Yolanda put down her cup and started to cry. She sobbed emotionally and loudly in the palms of her hands. I couldn't believe the bitch. She was whining in front of everyone just so someone could feel sorry for her. She wasn't sick. I had heard of it. It was called hypochondria. The only reason she was sick was because she wanted to be sick. She was afraid. She was terrified. She was weak. I couldn't even stand there to witness it. "T-Boy, can you say something?" Byron said, looking at T-Boy. T-Boy looked at me for a moment before talking, "Syn just try to be a little more patient with the girl. She's been through a lot. You got to understand, she is a lil' girl." I couldn't believe it. Now even my boyfriend thought I was wrong. I wasn't wrong. I was right. They all were wrong. Why should I bear the reek of fear after what Yolanda did to me? Why were we even having this conversation? Brunswick people all thought the same, but they showed that they did at different times. "A girl?" I asked looking at Yolanda, "She was a woman when she planned to dethrone Mercedes. She was like a MAN when he stabbed me in the back. Now that the tables have turned, she's become a little girl." "Baby, but when Mercedes was after you " "T-Boy shut up," I said, stopping him before he said something he'd regret, "I am not in the class of Yolanda. She is weak. I never cried after what happened with Mercedes. Fear is weakness. I hate weakness." They were quiet. T-Boy most likely couldn't believe I had told him to shut up like I had done. Byron seemed to be way out of his league trying to argue with me and I think he knew it when he asked T-Boy for help. Yolanda was still crying. She was tearing her little eyes out as though it would protect her. "Syn," T-Boy said, as though wanting to get my attention, but not knowing what to say. I ignored him and turned to the girl, "Yolanda, tell me when those tears start helping. Tell me when those tears make you less afraid and make Mercedes forgive you." "You'll get yours one day," Yolanda muttered, almost trying to disguise her voice so I wouldn't hear. I started to clap and cheered, "Finally anger! Finally, you are fucking mad. I wasn't sure that you of all people could put away your phoniness to show your true emotion. You could never be truthful before, until now. Now you are like me. You have nothing left but your angry truth." "Syn, she didn't mean it," Byron said, speaking up for her. He probably thought I was going to kick her out. I didn't want me to kick her out. I was fucking applauding that she was finally letting out some of the anger that she felt! She was sitting there crying her eyes out this whole time instead of speaking up for herself. Now that she was truthful, I had no reason to be mad. "Oh my god," I stressed, looking over at Byron, "What is wrong with you? Don't lie for her. Of course she means it! It's the only thing she ever told me that she really meant!" "Still she's just speaking out of anger." "Yet, she's speaking truthfully out of anger," I explained, "Don't you understand me by now? You used to understand me. Now you are lying to me. You are lying to yourself, just like everyone else. You used to be just like me until Dr. Lopez brainwashed you." "Dr. Lopez is not brainwashing me," Byron said, "She's helping me!" I laughed. It was weird how the attention had gone from Yolanda to Byron, but truth is they all made me sick. Everyone was making me sick. They were all just so pathetic. I had been saving up my thoughts to say to Byron for a while now. He wasn't going to like what I was going to say and I knew it. It made me want to say it even more. I had to tell him the truth. "Helping you how?" I said laughing, "You used to be an escort. She helped you quit that. Yet you are trying to break up aggression and make everyone get a long. Who do you think you are? Sometimes people want to be pissed off! Sometimes its good to be pissed off!" "Syn, not everyone gets off on anger," Byron said, "We aren't like you." "Syn, just walk away," T-Boy explained, as though getting annoyed with me more. I ignored T-Boy and stared at Byron, "Oh, you are definitely not like me. Dr. Lopez couldn't get me. She got you though. Look. You are over here trying to cover your sins with being nice to everyone. Why cover sins when no one is even looking for them? No one even cares." Byron's expression melted, "What do you mean?" "You are pathetic, Byron," I explained, "You are my friend, but you are pathetic. Dr. Lopez doesn't even know what is wrong with you, but I know." "What is wrong with me?" he laughed, mockingly "How could you know?" He was in denial. He was so scared. Yolanda started to cry even more, covering her hands in her eyes. She started to rock back and forth like a mental case. T-Boy was trying to pull at me, but I kept getting away as I approached Byron. I wanted him to read my lips and understand every word. "You never loved me," I said looking at him, "You were an escort just to find out what love was. Its sad because after all that, you still don't know." "Yes I do!" he said, "I love Sampson." I laughed. I laughed harshly over Yolanda's crying and everything. T-Boy had given up trying to get me to walk away. He just stood in the corner with his arms crossed, staring at the floor as though mixed with how to take what was happening. I had expected everything that Byron was saying. It wasn't weird. It was expected. "Now you love Sampson, huh?" "That's right. Love is something that you feel immediately. You know they are the one." "Did Dr. Lopez tell you that?" He looked down at his feet, sort of embarrassed. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. Yolanda was still whimpering, so I could care less if he joined her. I would just have a house of idiot people crying. Of all the things I hated, I hated crying the most. "You don't know what you are talking about." "Yet, you are proving my point," I continued, "You fall in love more then you change your clothes. That is your problem or did the great Dr. Lopez skip past that and go straight to filling you with her thoughts of what the ideal person was?" "Dr. Lopez made me better!" "No, Dr. Lopez made you think you were better," I explained, "You are in all ways the same. You still are full with lust. You fall in love too quickly. You've seen love and it just pisses you off that you can't have it." He was silently tearing, "I have love " "Oh yeah where?" I asked looking around, "Love oh love, where are you? No one is answering, dumbass. Why don't you stop trying to make up for being an escort? Being nice to people is not helping your problem. The problem is not with Yolanda or me or Sampson. The problem is in yourself." He looked dazed, "Escorting was so wrong. Dr. Lopez told me that I could be a good person again. She said that when I'm a good person, then love will find me. Just as long as I'm a good person love will find me. I guess, I should have been saying, "Oh, how touching." I didn't. I rolled my eyes. Maybe in a fairytale it took good people to find love. That wasn't fucking true. Hitler himself had love. Though society led us to believe it, love had nothing to do with being a "good" person. Besides, who defined what a good person was but the person who loved them? If you didn't love that person, what right did you have to say if they were good? "Bullshit," I said. "Syn why would you say that," T-Boy interrupted, looking surprised that I had just downplayed the thought of goodness being connected to love. "Because it is bullshit," I explained, "Dr. Lopez is making you guilty. Escorting was the past. You should pay more attention to yourself. Love has nothing to do with being nice. You just have to be yourself. Love yourself and someone will love you in return." He was crying, "I just wanted the sweet life." "You won't get it by crying like a little bitch," I explained abruptly. He had just noticed he was crying and he looked sort of embarrassed. He stormed out of the room. I wished Yolanda had gone with him because she was stinking up the room, since she hadn't taken a shower in a while. Yolanda just cried though. T-Boy, who was up against the wall had gotten off, dramatically. He looked like he was in a straight emotional sitcom and was about to have his little heroic lecture. If it were a sitcom, it'd be in the last minute. "You can't keep being like this," T-Boy warned me, crossing his arms. If it were a sitcom, I would have listened to his sermon. I would have promised to change because I should have been so affected by what my boyfriend was saying. "Keep what up?" I asked, "If I keep telling the truth? Well, I am who I am." "Seriously if you keep this up, you will have no friends," T-Boy warned and then added quickly, "You won't have a boyfriend either." If it were sitcom, I would have begged him to stay with me. "Why do you keep saying that?" I asked, "It wasn't the first time you put our relationship on the line. You did it that time I wouldn't get in the car too. If you want to break up, then why don't you just break up with me? Why do you keep threatening me like our relationship is a bargaining tool?" "I don't want to break up with you," T-Boy said, suddenly calming down from his forward strike. "You sure?" I said, "Because from now on, its love me or leave me alone." He looked threatened and then snapped, "I guess I'll have to give that some thought. I mean, if you want it to be that way." I replied with the same confident tone he'd given me, "Think long and hard " I wasn't sure if it was a fight. I knew T-Boy was trying to intimidate me with letting me know he was thinking about whether we should be together or not. I didn't feel intimidated though. He was trying to hold our relationship as lever to get what he wanted. It never seemed to work and yet he kept doing it. I didn't understand him. If it were a sitcom, I would have left the room. It wasn't a fucking sitcom. I stood there and complained until Yolanda went to take her shower and then I left the room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~////~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~////~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Anthony came to pick me up that night to go to his little Fraternity banquet. I wasn't excited about it really. I had tried to give Byron's issue a little more thought. I thought if it was something that I should have said to him that I didn't say. I had definitely told him a lot. Byron was just another victim of societies' views. Dr. Lopez thought escorting was wrong, so she'd convinced Byron to spend all his time trying to make up for it. Byron needed to be loved. He didn't have that. I didn't regret saying a word that I'd said to him. I thought about Yolanda's issue for a second or two. There was nothing I could have done differently in that situation too. She was just an annoying little bitch, but now she was an annoying little bitch in my house. "Hey, Syn," Anthony told me and introduced me to these group of people, "These are my friend, Henry Jenkins from the NAACP branch. Here is Yuki, a friend of mine from our Asian branch " He kept on with the introductions as we walked through the hall. The fraternity was Alpha Phi Alpha. The building was a small, but luxurious building. The outside had a parking lot covered with extravagant cars. On the inside were people who looked like they had more money then they needed. Their eyes were too curvy and their cheeks too red. Their heads were too big and so were their pockets. "Am I the only poor person here?" I asked the crowd. The laughed as though I had said a joke, but no one answered the question. I figured, I was. Anthony was dressed in some tuxedo. I, on the other hand, had on capris with Timberland boots and a button down shirt that wasn't tucked in. It was the most formal dressing I was willing to wear and I had let Anthony know in advance. He said it didn't matter though. One of the many Asian guys said something to me, "I love your outfit." I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Either way, it had brought a couple of eyes on me to notice how casual I had dressed. I should have been embarrassed, but instead I was just a little annoyed. "Yes, I didn't know this was going to be the march of the penguins," I said, giving a cold stare at Anthony, "I guess you left that part out." A few people started to laugh as though I had again said something hilarious. I didn't get it. I had just insulted the whole lot of them by saying their tuxedos were like penguins. They were obviously the most well bred fake people Brunswick had to offer. That part was for sure. Anthony smiled at my cold stare, "Would you have worn a tuxedo?" "No I just wouldn't have come." "Exactly," Anthony said and looked across the room, "Come on. Let me show you around before the speaker of the house comes around." I didn't feel like being showed around. I felt out of place. I still wondered why Anthony brought me here and I quickly found out that he brought me for shock value. My personality either caused a lot of people to hate me or my personality had caused a lot of people to find me cynically amusing. Either way, I brought Anthony attention. I walked up these stairs to where they had tables set up for eating. The food wasn't there yet and everyone was conversing. I didn't really want to talk to any of these people. They had a lot of money and I guess it made them think that they had a little more class, but they were made of the same stuff all the people in Brunswick were made up of. They were all made with a grain of salt. "These are nice photos," I told Anthony as we passed by this gallery hanging on the wall. He didn't seem concerned with the photos. He seemed more interested in introducing me to all his graduate study contemporaries and his rivals. He gave me an impatient look as I stood next to the wall. "Yeah, well they're just photos." "Of who?" "This fraternity used to be sponsored by an organization called The Syndicate," Anthony explained to me and said, "Those are the people who used to be involved back when The Syndicate was in power. It was a while ago though, almost 3 years." I looked around on the photos. It was mostly to annoy Anthony. I didn't want to go talking to a bunch of guys, just so that I could give them a little astonishment. The photos were clear, but really small. I looked around. A couple of guys were hot. There was this one guy who was really sexy. He seemed real important too. "Whose that?" I said pointing. "His name is Robert McKnight," Anthony explained, "He used to be the owner of The Syndicate. He was worth millions. He gave it all up though and moved to the mountains, somewhere. He wrote a book called Rain On Me. It's really good actually " "He was the owner?" I asked in disbelief, "he looks so young." "He is he was just a year older then you when he took the position," Anthony said, "It seems like a tradition. The new owner of the Syndicate is young also. He's going to try to rebuild it to its former glory. It'll be hard, but he's a good worker. His name is Holden McKnight." "They were related." "No, the last name is tradition of the owners as well," Anthony said, "You could meet him, if we just take ourselves away from the photos for a moment " I was about to move, when I saw a face. The face was of Byron. He was standing there. I couldn't believe he was standing there in this group of people. The photo was small, but I was almost sure that it was Byron's face that was on there. "Wait! I know him!" "Him?" Anthony said, looking at where I pointed, "That is Byron McKnight. He was also an owner for a short period of time. He disappeared however. He was the biggest failure of all the owners. He was the cause of the fall of The Syndicate." I twisted my mouth a little, looking kind of embarrassed. I had been happy to hear that Byron owned the Syndicate, but the part about him being the cause of its fall was amazing. Of course, I just began to wonder about that. I figured that I wasn't going to get in his business though if he didn't want me to. I'd ask him, but that was it. I wasn't going to keep prying through Anthony to find out more about Byron's past. It seemed like Byron's past was one of attempt and failure. He had gone as far as to run a multi-million dollar organization and yet he had been working as an escort when I met him? What could have been the cause for that kind of radical change? I knew Byron wasn't the most stable person, but losing all that was close to idiotic. Anthony took me to the table, where we finally got something to eat. He introduced me to more people and I shocked them by saying something rude or cynical. They would either laugh or get offended, then go away. I was getting a little freaked out by repetitive nature of all the things that were happening. "Enjoying yourself?" Anthony asked. I rolled my eyes and whispered, "I'd rather be masturbating to tell the truth. At least I'd recognize the wet stuff on the tip of my dick weren't these guys' lips." He gave a half smile, "I thought you'd like it." I shrugged. I guess I wasn't giving it a chance really. I was motivated to come because I heard there was going to be some first class food there. It took almost an hour for them to bring the food. When they brought it out, it seemed well worth it though. The dinner bell rang and the caterers walked in carrying large trays. I smiled as a pretty lady set up a tray in front of me. She poured me some liquor (she didn't even ask for ID) into a shuttle glass. Another caterer came and put a tray of some fish-looking entr‚e on my plate. I didn't know what kind of fish it was. I really didn't care either, because it looked good. I placed my fork in the fish, put them both in a creamy bleu cheese sauce and then dipped it into my mouth. The taste was incredible. It felt like an orgasm had just hit my tongue, immediately. "Hey Yuki, taste the fish, its better then blaming Bush for all of America's problems." Yuki, who barely spoke English, didn't know what I was really talking about. He just smiled and continued to look down at the food. I treated myself with more food and plastered it all over my face. This taste was the taste of victory. The taste was the taste of satisfaction at its most full extent. "Syn, look, this is really what I wanted you to see," Anthony interrupted me, "Holden McKnight is about to make an announcement. You really remind me of him." I was annoyed that he had disturbed me from eating, but I did manage to lift my eyes to where a group of guys were talking in front of a podium. Then one of the guys stepped out to the podium. I squinted my eyes because for a moment the face looked familiar. It was a cute face. It was sexy and young. Then for a while the face began to look familiar! I could tell the deep dimples that were in the person's face anywhere. I noticed the lips and the squinty bedroom eyes that made me think the person had constantly just woken up. "Sampson! Hey Sampson!" I said waving at him. A couple of people had caught my attention, but Sampson still didn't. He was looking over at the crowd and went to the microphone. It was clear he was going to speak, but I didn't understand for what. Sampson was cute, but I didn't think these people would really be interested in anything he had to say. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he said, as though there were that many ladies present in a Fraternity meeting, "I would just like to welcome you tonight. I feel happy to be a part of the Alpha Phi Alpha reunion that has gone on today. This has been a great honor to " I cried out, "Sampson? Don't you hear me!" "I would also like to thank William Thorns for planning this event tonight. He was the picture of the little man on the invitation cards if no one noticed " "Sampson! What! The! Fuck!" "Can you shut the hell up, please?" Sampson said, looking at me like I had two heads. Shut the hell up? It wasn't the first time Sampson's attitude had completely switched up. He was acting like a complete ass like he did the day I wanted a ride to McDonalds. Normally Sampson would have at least seen me. He would have said something sweet to me or made me feel good about myself. Now Sampson seemed like he could care less either fucking way. "You shut the hell up," I snapped, standing up, "I don't know who the hell you think you are. Every time you dress in fancy clothes, you want to act fancy. You don't remember who your real friends are!" A couple of people were giving me questioning looks. Heck, it didn't matter. A couple of people were giving Sampson questioning looks as well. I figured it was all worth it. They should of known Sampson for who he really was. He was the kind of guy who appreciated you only when it was comfortable for him. "Listen, please be assured I have no idea who you are," Sampson explained and added, "I am quite certain I don't have any rude friends." "Oh, you call these people your friends?" I asked, pointing at random faces, "This guy he looks like he worships the devil. That guy he looks like he eats kids. I guess they are your 'real' friends though, huh?" "Whatever," Sampson said and turned around to a few guys behind him, "Someone tell me why I am talking to this lunatic?" "FUCK YOU! How's that for lunatic?" "Fuck you too!" A couple of people had begun to excuse themselves. They were uptight idiots. They probably didn't expect Sampson and I to be screaming curses back and forth. I didn't expect Sampson and I to be screaming curses back and forth. The only person I'd seen Sampson curse at was T-Boy and that was because they hated each other. Sampson had never cursed at me. Truth is it pissed me off but it also was kind of interesting. "I'll kick your ass, you traitor!" I threatened him. I didn't care who heard it. "Not if I do it first " A couple of guys had begun to hold Sampson back, almost like it was important that he keep his cool. I jumped up on a table, threatening him. I didn't even know if the shit that I was saying made any sense. I was just cursing loudly and pointing at him. I was insulted that Sampson would disrespect me to this level and then go ahead to keep letting it happen. Didn't he give a fuck about me? Anthony kept trying to pull me down and it only gave me motive to keep cursing at Sampson. Sampson was really trying to break loose and get to me. I knew I probably couldn't beat Sampson, but he did seem like he wasn't as muscular as before. He seemed skinnier and slimmer. I figured maybe I could beat him now since he lost weight. "Syn, come on," Anthony said, pulling at me, "We have to go." I kept cursing at Sampson from across the hall as Anthony pulled me out of the building. I tried to keep my cool, but even though I was interested by Sampson's new attitude, it definitely seemed a little distressing. I had thought Sampson had a soft spot for me. I had this feeling that with Sampson I could say almost anything and get away with it. Even before I found out that he liked me, I felt like I could do it. I felt interested because Sampson was changing, but I had this deep sadness like I was losing the only person that would let me get away with doing so much. For a moment, I felt like crying. But that was bullshit right? Getting in fights with one of your friends wasn't supposed to make you cry. Crying was weakness. I had just told Byron that earlier during the day. I didn't cry. I couldn't. I could go home and think though. Sampson wasn't the person that I thought he was. T-Boy was right to hate him. If he treated his friends like he didn't know them, then he wasn't someone I wanted to know. He wasn't someone that I even ever wanted to see again. I had to cut Sampson off before this shit became emotional. I fucking hated emotion, so I would have to learn how to hate Sampson