New Day

A New Day Chapter 2: Trauma

There was warmth on my eyelids, my mind just starting to regain consciousness, which I couldn't place. Opening my eyelids just slightly, I felt like I was nearly blinded by the intensity of the sun's rays streaming through the large windows. This seemed to only complicate my mind's complete inability to register the exact circumstances surrounding my location, or any other of the circumstances of my existence in my early morning fog.

My eyes shifted quickly around the room, avoiding the sun, my brain grasping at straws. The bedroom seemed to retain the glowing haze of a dream. The sun amplified and sharpened the hues of the deep golden carpets and rich burgundy furniture populating the room. Looking down at my body, I noticed the bed had become torn apart, the sheets wrapping around us, entangling our legs together.

Lying there, still very much in my fog, I felt Alexi's heartbeat against my back, his skin soft and warm against my bare back. Wanting to be nearer to him, I pressed myself lightly against him, while he seemed to pull me even closer with his right arm still wrapped around me, his hand resting in the concave gap beneath my ribs, his hand slightly tickling me from its contact with my navel. A cold chill hitting me, I pulled my side of the covers nearly over my head, resting back into Alexi's warm embrace. I would have been quite fine to lay there in his arms until death enveloped us.

Hearing me rustling the covers I assume, or probably seeing the covers move, Alexi's lips were very close to my ear, feeling his breath on my neck, saying, "Morning." I begrudgingly turned over onto my stomach, Alexi's arm shifting onto my back. I glanced up into Alexi's face, which despite his totally disheveled locks, had a huge grin on it, seemingly ready to face the world. His readiness made me want to bury my head even more so into my pillows, which I did. But I couldn't ignore him either. When he saw me blearily peeking over to him again, he said, "Morning Davy-boy." in a completely cheery mood.

I just mumbled something indecipherable before pulling the sheets completely above my head. Need I say I'm not a morning person? I tried my best to shut out the desert sun, to prolong what had been a very peaceful and enjoyable night. Unwillingly admitting the futility of it all, I sat more upright in the bed, pulling the sheets up with me, pinning the sheet against my chest with my arms. Turing my head in Alexi's direction I asked in a completely sarcastic tone, "How in God's name can you be so damn cheery in the morning?"

His only initial response was to lean close to me, kissing me quickly yet deeply, and pulling away saying, "I've been up watching a show."

I totally didn't understand his remark, and I know my expression showed it, as I rubbed the sleeping crud out of my eyes, giving him a "Huh?" in response. "What show are you talking about?"

"You Davy-boy! You're adorable to watch sleep," Rolling his eyes he continued, "maybe not so adorable awake though!"

I shot a full fledged smile in his face, "That must have been just thrilling! Ya know ya love me."

"I'm beginning to." He said, kissing me quickly on the cheek. "So what are we gonna do for some breakfast Davy-boy?"

Looking at him through my sleep drunken eyes, already exhausted I replied, "It doesn't matter to me, wanna have some room service sent up? There's a menu downstairs on the dining room table, I think."

Alexi must have been hunting for a reason to get up, because he shot out of bed, but then he look down at my utterly exhausted form, almost as if he expected me to spring to life or something. Stay up late and then expect me to spring from the bed, um, forget it! Seeing my lack of movement, Alexi leaned over me, picking me up out of the bed, before I had the breath to object, but how could I?

Despite my reluctance to get up, he was being so utterly cute, so I just wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him feverously. The whole scene seemed so absurd to me in a flash, giggling out, "Put me down lover-boy!" I kissed him again as he let my feet finally touch the floor, letting me support myself.

In my efforts to steady myself, I stumbled, the white sheet wrapped around me pulled consequently to the ground. For a second, I felt like a deer in the headlights, standing in front of Alexi, I ran as fast as I could to the bed, pulling on my pajama top lying on the floor.

Turning again toward Alexi, he was visibly shaken by my actions, a worried expression emblazoned on his face, asking with shear concern, "Are you okay?"

Concocting a false smile, "I'm fine, let's go."

Alexi grabbed me by the arm, swiftly pinning me against the wall. Staring me in the eyes, "Look, I don't know what's wrong, but I know clearly something is." His arms moved from the wall to my waist, resting lightly on my hips. He continued, "I know we just met, but if you need to talk, I'm here to listen, okay?" I felt he might never truly understand me, then again, neither do I, but he cared, and that was worth everything. Looking up into his kind eyes, his true deep concern for me was apparent. My only response was to kiss him, to feel that connection to him, to not feel so alone in my own body.

He deserved the truth, I realized that, but I wasn't ready to bare my soul to him, the confusion and pain my brain caused forcing me to quietly cry. Pulling apart, I grabbed his arm saying reluctantly, "We should talk."

Instantaneously he pulled my small frame against him, which I readily accepted And he quietly said, "Sure.", a slight chuckle entering his voice. Out of nowhere it seemed his stomach gave a tremendous growl. "But can we talk over some breakfast?" he asked with a sheepish look.

I gave him no rely, grabbing his shirt off the couch, pulling him toward the door as he pulled it on. Proceeding down to the dining room, we found another note reading:

Justin, We've meetings all morning, so have fun and be safe. Love, Mom

I sighed at her overt concern. "She cares." Alexi replied, sensing my agitation. Hearing his stomach audibly gurgle once more, he grabbed it asking, "What time is it anyway?"

Finding a small clock on an end table in the living area, I told him, "Only ten in the morning. No wonder my body wants to be in bed!" I yelled playfully at him.

Alexi smirked at me, "I've usually been up for hours by now."

Exasperated, I rolled my eyes, walking back into the dining room, sitting down at the table, Alexi sitting next to me.

Peering over the menu, Alexi said, "Lord everywhere in this place is money hungry."

I rolled my eyes slightly, "Dad's company will cover it, so order whatever." Within a few minutes, we had decided on our selections, and phoned them down to the kitchen.

As I came back into the room after replacing the phone in the other room, Alexi was absentmindedly fingering the note Mom left. Walking behind the bar, Alexi moved to a white bar stool, the note still between his fingers. I could feel his piercing eyes on me as I put a cup of cold water in the microwave, he asked, "So do they know?" holding up the note.

I shook my head in the negative, "No, they don't." I looked over at him, asking, "What about you?"

He turned his head as well saying, "Same story, my sister knows though."

I know for certain I looked surprised, but just as I was about to ask another question the doorbell rang, and the microwave beeped almost simultaneously, causing me to jump for a second. Turning back toward the microwave, I asked, "Could you go grab the door while I get this?"

Alexi jumped down from the bar, kissing me quickly before he said," Sure." He turned, sprinting off toward the door. He returned moments later, just as I was grabbing a tea bag to drop in my cup of now-boiling water. Glancing up as the tea bag hit with a slight "plop", a cart of food was being wheeled into the room, topped in covered silver platters, by a young twenty something guy, sporting a short military crop of black hair, and a deeply tanned complexion. Alexi followed at a casual distance, who leaned against the back of one of the chairs, leaning over the cart in a sad attempt at taking in the aroma.

The delivery guy looked over to me, as I tried to stifle a giggle at Alexi, his eyes then landed on Alexi, asking, "Where would you boys like this?" Alexi nodded toward the table while I slipped from the room, Alexi's eyes following me. I ran back up to my room, fishing my wallet from my denim carry-on bag. Seconds later, I was back downstairs, pulling a couple ones from my wallet. Quickly surveying the table, the food was now set down on opposing ends of the long table, which I instantly disliked. I handed the delivery guy the Washingtons, which he eagerly accepted, with a quick "Thank you, sir." He was out the door with the cart in the blink of an eye, leaving us alone once more.

Alexi looked at me with an adorable look, saying, "Oh yeah, tip. For a second there I had no idea where you were off to Davy-boy."

Pulling open the small fridge, I asked, "So, do you want anything to drink?"

"Coke"

I really shouldn't have been surprised, but "Yuck, that's gross." Despite myself, I grabbed the red can and sat down at the table next to him, pulling my breakfast and cutlery down the table to my seat. "That'll taste just great with those flapjacks of yours!"

Pulling the lid from his platter, he raised a near clear colored eyebrow at me, saying, "Pancakes, silly." He quickly stuck a finger in the small cup of butter, planting a dab of it squarely on the end of my nose! We laughed as I leaned in and kissed him.

We held that position for eons, his tongue eventually gaining entry into my mouth, which sent sparks of shock through me. I pushed him away lightly, "Eat your pancakes! Not me!" Kissing him quickly again, wiping the butter from my nose and onto the edge of his plate.

He looked at me with a gleam in his eyes, licking his lips, "Umm, how appetizing." I just shook my head lightly in disbelief. What have I gotten myself into!

In a feeble attempt to distract myself, I looked at Alexi's robust blueberry pancakes, smothered in butter, the sweet smell of powdered sugar wafting through the air, the whole confection swimming in maple syrup, appearing utterly delicious. Noticing my staring, he pulled the cover off my own platter, and picked up half my BLT sandwich, almost shoving it in my face, shocking me clear out of my little momentary trance. I voice a quick, "sorry" before taking a bite from the sandwich half in his hand, taking it from him. His feeding me made me blush like Alice's Cheshire Cat.

We chatted quietly as we ate, our talk earlier virtually forgotten for the moment. The moment of tranquility passed all too rapidly, as Alexi virtually devoured his pancakes, faster than the latest Hoover vacuum could have made them disappear! With only part of my sandwich ingested, I saw him eyeing the home fries on my plate, and with a quick nod of permission, he was vanishing my meal with abandon. I couldn't help but laugh at him, "I'm not gonna take it away, you can slow down!" Nonetheless, soon enough he had consumed them, and I too was done with the meal. Pushing what remained of my sandwich his way, Alexi promptly snatched it up. Shaking my head in disbelief at him, I asked, "Why aren't you like a million pounds?! If I ate like you, I'd be huge!"

He just rolled his eyes at me, grabbing my arm with his free hand, and pulled me from the table. Before I had a moment to catch my breath, we were ascending the stairs before my mind could formulate a coherent thought. Just as I was about to speak, we reached the bedroom and Alexi asked, "So do you have anything to be active in?"

Grabbing his smooth arm, I almost laughed in disbelief, "Wait a second, you want to exercise?"

Looking down at me with question in his eyes, "You object?" he asked.

I found myself replying rapidly, to assure his understanding, "No, it's just we're on vacation." My tone intentionally stressed the last word for his comprehension.

We were in such proximity to one another, I found myself again against the back of the bedroom door, his face hovering over mine, kissing me before I had a moment to move, not that I'd have wanted to! He pulled away, his lips teasing mine, "Your body doesn't know that." he breathed softly. His hands quickly entangled themselves in mine, as he pulled me more into the room, sheets littering the floor of the otherwise spotless room.

He let go of me, quickly shedding the t-shirt he was wearing, while I turned to get a set of soft red sweats from my bags. Just as I began to unbutton my pajama top, I felt Alexi's soft hands on my hips, moving up on top of my own, fumbling with the buttons. He whispered breathily into my ear, "Allow me."

I instantly grabbed his hands, immobilizing them, whispering a hurried response, "Please, don't."

He slipped his arms downward again to encircle my narrow waist, pulling my body his. His breathing against my back was deep and steady, his breath warm on the back of my neck. "Tell me what's wrong." He said, pressing his warm lips against my right ear, making me jump every so slightly. His heartfelt concern for me was too much for my mind to handle, overpowering my emotional switchboard, springing my waterworks. My breathing was instantaneously haggard, coming in small gasps.

Alexi shifted my body in his arms, my face buried in his chest; I pushed out meekly, "I'm scared."

Giving me a quizzical glance, "Of me?" he asked, his face cracking a slight smile. With reservation shoved momentarily out of my mind, I nodded, my eyes downcast to the floor, hiding a cascade of tears about to flood my face. But they came all the same, Alexi's grasp becoming tighter around me as he said, "Don't be scared, I love you."

My face covered in glistening tear tracks, I felt hot and nauseous as I told him, "You can't love me." My voice coming in gasps again, Alexi's arms supporting my weight almost entirely.

"I already do." Alexi said, kissing my forehead.

"Oh please, I'm thin as hell, I'm not exactly great looking; you can't love me." I felt like my brain was telling my heart to push him away, he'd gotten to close too fast. I didn't want him to hurt me, but I knew it was too late for that, too late to be safe within my own little alcove of the world, letting no one in, never letting myself out. I had exposed my heart to him, and it was no longer my own to take back.

"You're just fine." He said, his grasp around me relaxing, as he looked down on me, almost as if to survey the validity of his statement.

"No I'm not!" I almost screamed, pulling my pajama front open quickly in exasperation, a last ditch effort to save my heart. "Look!" My entire body seared with red hot pain, the stress of the moment making me want to vomit. My form sank to the floor, almost in distorted effort to disappear.

I knew I had to look almost laughable, but if that was the case, Alexi gave no indication of it, following me to the floor, scooping me up in his arms, wrapping his legs around me, my head resting on his bare shoulder. I could feel his eyes evaluating me, seeing without doubt the long succession of scars running diagonally down the center of my chest. Each one discolored a hideous unnatural red, running from my midchest to just above my navel. Turning my head upwards toward his, I said, "See?"

Looking into Alexi's face, rejection was entirely absent, concern and care the only discernable expressions. His initial response was to quickly kiss me, saying clearly, almost to assure my understanding, "Like I said you're beautiful to me." All I could do was smile and blush, feeling an immense flood of love and relief. "And I'm still in love with you." He added.

In that moment, I couldn't have spoken if I wanted to, but Alexi made the struggle irrelevant, leaning down kissing me again, his tongue soon exploring my mouth, and mine his. Our bodies seemed to go on an autopilot, snaking our way toward the bed. His arms were soon embracing my form, placing me as easily as a one would a rag doll, on the bed. Lying back on the bed, I lock my arms around Alexi's neck, pulling him down on top of me. His hips were grinding into mine, our bodies hardening filling with sheer electricity from the liquid heat we were both beginning to generate.

Our lips found each other again, maintaining the connection for many minutes, before our lips finally parted, his lips moving to my ear, giggles escaping from me nearly uncontrollably. My response to his movements didn't deter Alexi for an instant, his tongue drilling its way into my ear as my arms snaked up his strong back, kneading his back muscles uncontrollably. His movements slowed, making me moan softly.

Exciting Alexi apparently, he moved downward slowly over me, as I slid myself slowly upward toward the headboard. His head was now hovering over my chest, his warm breath giving me goose bumps, as his long soft sunny bangs drove my senses into complete overload as they tickled my bare skin.

My eyes closed, the intense sensations washing over me, I felt his moist soft lips on the skin of my chest, placing light kisses over my scars, each giving jolts of electric shock through my body. His unabashed affections brought instantaneous tears, as together we expressed the passion that had so swiftly come to connect us inexplicably.

He hovered there over my midsection for what seemed like an eternity, soft moans inexplicably rising from within me, as I ran my hands along Alexi's back and up through his silky wavy locks. His body shifted upward above my own, his lips soon again connecting with my own. As his lips assaulted my own, his hands were soon enough tenderly running down my ribs, tickling me lightly between them.

My hands were clawing at the smooth moistened muscles of his back, his hands eventually finding mine on the comforter. Our fingers soon performing their own erotic dance as our perspiring bodies seemed to become writ emotion, two vital instruments of the symphony reaching their crescendo. Alexi's tender touch told, in a language far deeper than speech, how he had grown so quickly to care.

Finally breaking our faces apart, I breathed almost silently, "I love you." Starring up into his deep aqua eyes, they seemed to grow intensely brighter.

Leaning down, kissing again, Alexi said, "Love you too," in a low voice--almost in the tone of a secret had anyone been near enough to hear us. He shifted himself from above me to my right side, situating himself behind me, placing his arm around my waist much as he'd done the night before. An immense calm overcame me there in his arms, soon finding myself slipping willingly back into unconsciousness.

Hours later, I was awoken by the sound of the door downstairs opening and soon after closing, a wave of quiet chatter of Mom and Dad flooding the expansive space. Glancing suddenly about the room, I realized I was still wearing my pajamas, so I gently moved Alexi's arm from my waist, moving quickly to my suitcases, throwing on a light blue sleeveless shirt and the jeans I had on yesterday.

Turning back toward the bed, I stood watching Alexi sleep for a quick moment, scribbling a quick note on the stationary on the nightstand, before I turned on my bare heels and slipped quietly out of the room, grabbing my wallet and a pair of sandals before closing the door behind me. Tossing the sandals on the floor of the landing I slipped into them and quickly descended the stairs.

"Hey babe." Mom said, from the dining table, which was now vacant of breakfast dishes, currently in us as a makeshift workspace, covered in my parent's oh-so- complicated corporate dealings as both she and my father sat there behind mounds of paperwork, which gave one the impression their briefcases had suddenly exploded.

"Hi Mom." I said, tossing her a quick grin "I'll be back in a minute." I told her, while I made a straight shot for the door.

"Excuse me mister." She said sternly looking up from her work, Dad attention momentarily drawn away from his portable computer, "I thought you had a guest. Isn't that a bit rude of you?" She meant it not as a question, but as a clear accusation.

"We were watching T.V. and Alexi fell asleep." I quickly lied. She just nodded, obviously pondering, and then buying it. I just hoped neither checked on him, and found him still in his boxers on my bed! "I'll be back in just a minute; I have to go downstairs." I said very directly.

"Go ahead son." Dad said quickly, and I virtually pushed myself out the door before she could intervene. I rapidly jogged down the deserted corridor, quickly finding the justifiably deserted lift bank and hopped aboard one of the pods, which instantaneously began its descent. Given the hour of late afternoon, the ride was uninterrupted delivering me promptly to the hotel's ground floor very near the casino.

Getting off, I strode straight through the gaming area. Stopping for a moment to gain a full grasp of proper direction, federal law was entirely absent in my mind for the moment. That is until a firm, and I must say rather chilled hand grabbed me by the forearm. "What do you think you're doing son?" suddenly came from a tall officer, with wavy grey hair, and a face so wrinkled he must have been present at the writing of the Bible. He peered down despising at me through cool blank brown eyes, framed by wire- rimmed glasses, looking to have gone out of style about the same time as the Edwardian corset.

I thrown rather aback, replying rather impatiently to this officer, "Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf son, I asked you why you are just standing here! You can't be here; you must stay around the outside of the gaming area!" His grip on my arm was tightening uncomfortably.

Perusing the expansive room rapidly, finding my destination I replied hurriedly, "If you must know, and apparently you must, I was just going to the box office. Now if you'll excuse me, I have tickets to pick up." I wrenched my arm away from his grasp and proceeded quickly onward through the casino, and soon found myself on the grandiose marble steps of the Colosseum. Proceeding up to the box office, just adjacent to the Colosseum entrance, there was no line, given the hour of the afternoon.

An older woman, with short styled blond hair stood behind the desk. "Hello, how can I help you?" escaping her lips before I had the change to formulate a greeting.

"I need to pick up a set of tickets please." I said while pulling out the credit card Dad had let me borrow months before when I ordered them over the phone line.

"Alright, when and where are the tickets located do you know? The system is set up by location of seating."

"Yes, VIP Orchestra Section, Row AA, Seats 12 and 13 I believe is what the man over the phone told me."

"You must have bought those early; credit card please." She took the card, and began meticulously comparing the numbers to those on the printed receipt.

"I also have another concern." I said, while she completed the comparison.

"Yes?"

"Well, I know there is no way you do, but it there anyway I could acquire an additional ticket for tomorrow night's performance?"

"I'm sorry, but all of Ms. Dion's shows through November are completely sold out. But, for tomorrow's it seems you have the best seats in the house. At several points during the performance, she will sit on the steps at the foot of the stage, and given your location, that is just a matter of two or three feet from you."

Now, if circumstances had been as they were just a few days ago, this news would have made me bounce off the walls, but I simply gave the lady an appreciative smile, saying simply, "I'm sure that will be thrilling.", I could feel my tone clearly defied my words.

She could clearly sense my clear lack of enthusiasm, handing me the two tickets, saying, "Well enjoy the show young man, and if you're interested, the Celine Dion Boutique is just right over there." She pointed to her right, gesturing to the opposite side of the Colosseum steps. Thanking her again, I took the tickets and the credit card. Glancing briefly at the tickets I had long for so badly now firmly in the palm of my hand, I slid both back into my wallet and slowly made my way over to the store just steps away.

Stepping inside the Boutique, it seemed the clear geometric opposing force of the graceful curvaceous Colosseum, very angular in design, composed of clearly defined hard edges. Even the ceiling had a raised area built into it which was square in design, with music videos repeating on the screening area created by this raised space. All the shelves and display cases where hard edged cherry woods, almost seeming to be suspended in the sea of white between the clean white planes of the floor, and ceiling, and the expanse of space created by the glass and white walls of the shop. This monochromatic design was instantly understandable, when one realized the dimensions of the space where not at all excessive.

From the walls hung cloths of every make and definition, sweatshirts, tees, night shirts, pajamas, and everything else imaginable to adorn the human form. On shelves stood pillows, candles, coffee cups, thermal drink cups, hats, the list seemed never to end. The brand new fragrance Dion has recently created was off course not neglected, an entire shelving unit stood alone just for it, her smiling form suspended on a swing staring down at every patron who ventured by.

In the center of the small space stood the registers, which's sides were covered in even more merchandise, from pins, jewelry, clocks, and many other pieces. Standing there, I started to feel an immense feeling of guilt well up inside me. Alexi had clearly expressed to me his desire to go to the show, and yet I felt entirely powerless to get him into the damn theater with me. His words from last night rang in my head, "Yeah I like her...I like her a lot." Looking about the shop, I suddenly wanted to get him something, something special. A CD would be an obvious choice, but I seemed so stupid at the same time, he probably already had them all. Come to think of it, so did I.

The thought had me laugh quietly to myself, drawing no one's attention but the young girl behind the counter, who just gave me a 'what was that about, dummy' look. Casting my eyes downward from where she was standing, I saw a small box with a lovely picture of Celine painted on the front. It was so meticulously rendered I had to get a closer look. Walking over in front of the counter, I popped a squat in front of the counter on my hunches. In front of the box was a small glass plaque reading, 'Celine Dion melody: Because You Loved Me'. Clearly, it was a musical piece of some kind.

The young woman must have thought I was taking too much time looking or something, when she finally said, in a rather sarcastic tone, "Can I help you?"

I popped myself off the floor, bringing myself almost eye level with her, although she clearly out ranked me by a few inches, I said, in as sweet and lovable a tone as I could muster, "Could you please tell me how much that piece is?", pointing at the box.

In a clearly sarcastic tone, she replied, "its $200."

She must have expected me to be instantly shocked, but the shock was clearly hers to have as I replied, "May I see it?"

She sighed to herself, as if I had asked her to lift a bolder up a hill. Placing the box before me, I opened its lid to see a shallow white space, lined in what appeared to be silk, and a gilded turn key composed of the initials "CD" clearly engraved into the top. Her full signature was also sewn in golden thread in the bottom of the box, with a small card permanently affixed to the inside the lid in a protective plastic sleeve, which read, "Limited Edition of 200 pieces" with clearly an authentic signature below reading, "With all love, Celine" in black ink.

Flipping the box gently over with my hands, I quickly inspected the back, asking the woman, "Have many of these been sold?"

Her answer was slow coming as she relied, "We've only sold one or two, I believe, there are two other styles that are more popular, because they're smaller, and slightly less expensive. Would you want to see one of those?" Her question was clearly meant to be turned down, as this would have meant more work on her part.

"No, this will do just fine thank you, I'll take it." You would think in a town where money flows quicker than water could ever dream, she would have expected this, but apparently I was mistaken. "Actually, could you hold that for me for a moment? I'm not done yet." I said with a huge grin. Turning away from her, I walked around the small commercial space once again, picking up a charnel throw which was too soft to pass up, two tee shirts, as well as two sweat shirts.

Returning to the register, she asked, "Is that all?"

Nodded in the affirmative, she began ringing it all up, "For the moment, yes." I said, "But I'll be here a month, so I could be back." I was thinking in the back of my head, 'read that as I will be back, Alexi'll love this place.' Soon enough the transaction was complete, and I walked out of there with nearly a half grand of loot.

Moses was still patrolling the area when I came back out of the store. Despite his presence, I walked straight through the casino. I noticed there was another much younger officer also on patrol in the area. Noticing me, he seemed to make an initial turn to approach me, but seeing as I was now carrying three rather large bags full of cloths and another small one containing the music box all embossed with the A New Day audio wave insignia, neither of them said a word to me, and I proceeded toward the lift bank. I pulled the bags up closer to my sides and gave a very deliberate glance in the direction of the ancient officer, giving him the cheekiest shit faced grin I could compose as I disappeared into the elevator reception area.

Waiting in the small elevator alcove, glancing down at the bags I held, my mind began to wonder, to analyze. It must be understood, I have an incredibly analytical mind, whenever I find myself anything, or at times anyone I don't fully understand, my mind will immediately begin attempting to break it down, to dissect it. Similar to the obsessions Alexi mentioned I guess, but on a bit more psychological level I guess. Not really in an attempt to gain all the facts and microscopic details of something, but more the reasoning behind it, that elusive 'why' of it. I suppose it could be said the brain is my own mind's plaything at times.

Just a few short years ago, the 'whys' utterly consumed me, nearly leading me to murder. I remember the moment as if it was minutes ago, every detail forever burned into my memory. A lukewarm June spring morning, one of those peaceful mornings that occur all too infrequently. Reclining on the lattice awning covered loggia, wrapped loosely yet warmingly in a long soft blood red chenille throw, my mind was finding itself besieged with thoughts that began my mind on a long journey of fighting itself.

I suppose I had known the truth far before that moment, much like knowing the ending of a classic novel, but not truly believing it, or making sense of it, until one reads the last few sentences them self. I suppose it, truth, was peeking at the world through me, through everything I did, everything I said, everything I was. Maybe it was their in the way I always, as a young child, longed to be perfect, no, to create for the world, the illusion of perfection. I never believed the illusion myself. To me, it was much like a part in a play, a part at first I willingly played. I think I may have even found it fun in the beginning.

But it did not remain fun, as time progressed I lost myself in the illusion I had created, becoming a person not of my own nature, only a microscopic fraction of that person. I became someone you only read about in fairy tales, much like Matilda perhaps. I don't suppose at five I consciously realized what I was doing, that I was compromising for a dramatic fissure in my make up, a tear in my genetic code I would not become consciously aware of, for nearly another decade.

But I do recall, at that age, in kindergarten standing in line for lunch, telling myself rather sternly, "You must always be perfect. You must be the ideal. You must be what none of the other children will. You must never cause trouble. You're not worth any degree of trouble." This little chat, occurred perhaps the first or second day of school, and I listened to that voice, and obeyed it. For years I obeyed it. It became my subconscious, wiping away whatever personality I could have originally hoped to have. From that moment on, I was perfection. I became the classic nerd, and consequently, the classic teacher's pet.

I realize now, despite the fact that I went to a private elementary school, every one of those kids must have thought I believed I was better than them, because I spoke so infrequently. Scarcity does make value increase after all. If only I had that much pride. In truth, the exact opposite was the fact of my existence. In my mind, all the other kids, were better than me, even the ones I couldn't stand for being horribly cruel, were better than me. All of them, beginning to develop their groups of friends, while I existed alone that year, in the corner. My corner was squarely behind the teacher's L shaped desk. Everyday I could be found there, sitting on a large purple pillow she had given me from her chair to sit on, with no one but her, and my books for companionship.

She was such a nice lady, she's still there I suppose, early forties at the time, with long black hair, usually done up in an elaborate ponytail, and the kindest eyes of any teacher I had ever met. Often when the other children would have recess, she would let me remain their behind her desk, apparently taking pity on me, finding that when I would accompany the group outdoors I would often sit in the glass or on a swing, daydreaming, slowly rocking myself, or following her around like a lost dog. I don't suppose it was that I didn't like the other kids, or that they particularly didn't like me, but in that first year, they simply didn't know what to make of me.

The only friends I made worth remembering that year were Dorothy and her oddball gang, as I devoured each of L. Frank Baum's classics; all fourteen were forever entered into my memory by the age of six. I'm sure there were others, in my books, but those are the ones I seem to remember most emphatically, reading his stories repeatedly, every vivid detail of Oz forever implanted on my brain. I suppose I was safer there "many, many miles east of nowhere".

Years later, sitting on the chaise lounge, the crisp morning air brushed coolly against my face, fragrant with morning dew. As I sat, my body motionless, the only auditable worldly sound was a distant bird's song wafting in the distance trees. It was just as well, as the traffic of Times Square raced horribly through my head. In an inexplicable instant, the facade of tranquility I had created I suddenly realized was nothing more than a lie. In a decade of denying myself an identity, I had become nothing more than a hallow shell.

In those tense moments I finally realized why I had built such strong walls around myself so many years ago. I was gay, plain and simple, I had always known. But I had always subconsciously protected myself simultaneously from that realization. But I couldn't be. It didn't go with the grand plan of 'the perfect child'. As the years had passed, I had become nothing but an academic machine, and by this point I was lifted to a pedestal I could not find my way down from. I couldn't be gay. My mother's only child simply couldn't like guys!

Pulling the blanket over my head, I began to sob uncontrollably, my eyes soon puffy and swollen, streams of salty tears staining my face from my eye sockets down to my mouth, the salty taste hanging on my chilled lips. My entire body seemed to begin to shake, not from the faint chill of the air, but from extreme fear, dread. My body was soon moving faster than my brain could follow, almost from instinct. I suddenly stood, motionless.The throw wound tightly around me shrouding my form.

Covering the few steps to the back of the house in mere seconds, throwing open a set of the French doors, my bare feet found contact with the cool maple floor as I ran the length of the gallery, weaving between groupings of green upholstered furniture. My stride never ceasing, salty tears were finding there way covering my face, stinging at my eyes as I moved. My face had become flushed as I breezed ever quickly the straight shot from the gallery, through the marble floored entrance hall, my eyes visibility becoming limited. Soon enough, my visual senses entirely useless, my hands groped for the oak banister, my feet soon carrying me up the chilled spiral steps.

Nearly beginning to whale as I ascended, the throw floating behind me, it slipping from my frame as I ran, causing me to stumble and fall on the second story landing. Unabated, I continued my journey upward, my white t-shirt now clung coolly to my chest, my boxers riding progressively skyward, chafing into my groin. Soon enough, my wiry body ended its climb on the third floor, nearly passing out from sudden exhaustion.

My body was yet to give my brain a moment to actually consciously think. Standing there on the landing, my body was chilled of perspiration, my hair cemented to my forehead. Finally wiping my face, I looked about quickly for an answer, operating through a purely desperation filled mind. In an instant, I was off again, up the last flight of stairs to the attic level. Squeezing through a small door at the top of the stair tower, I emerged on the roof. I propped myself up on the stone facade separating my body from an unflinching descent, the manicured lawns and gardens still and tranquil in the morning sun, just three stories below.

Sitting on the ledge in silence, the air now stung; ice against my near naked form. Even now, I don't recall how long I stayed there motionless, the land just beneath my feet so far removed, death so much closer, so much sweeter.

The soft "ding" of the elevator bell brought me back to the here and now. Slowly bringing my free hand to my face I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes, my face radiating heat to the touch, a severe migraine forming in the deep recesses of my mind. Entering the lift, I was again alone, rubbing my temples rhythmically my nerves torturing my system. Soon enough, the doors slid effortlessly open, and I stepped off.

Minutes later, I slid quietly back into the suite, finding my parents still working whole hog at the dining room table. I sat my shopping bags at the base of the stairs, pulling my wallet from my pocket. Mom's eyes rising from her cornucopia of paperwork shed said, "Hey babe."

"Hi Mom." Pulling Dad's credit card out, I handed it back to him. Taking out the tickets, I laid one down in front of Mom. "Here is yours." I uttered, still rubbing my temples with my free hand.

Seeing the ticket before here, her face acquired a slightly regretful expression. "We need to talk hun." I took a seat across from her. "Look babe, we're just too busy. There is no way I can go tomorrow." An emotion of mixed guilt and relief simultaneously flooded my overstressed mind, the mounting pressure seeming to lessen greatly. Gesturing to the stacks surrounding her, "We are having so much more work to do than we expected, and Justin, we've pawned as much as we possibly can on the assistants and the fellow directors of the board. But lately, with so many new appointments to the board of advisors, including Mr. Billings, we simply have no time for a show right now." I honestly felt sorry for her, because I could tell she felt horrid.

I knew the answer I wanted before I even asked the question, but I asked as innocently as I could muster, "What do you want me to do with the tickets then? They are nonrefundable, and I really do still wanna go."

She played totally into my hand, "You can still go of course; perhaps Mr. Billings son would like to go with you." She said a hopeful look on her face.

Underplaying my immense excitement, I gave her a slight, entirely untrue, sigh, saying, "Maybe, I'll have to ask Alexi." I got up from the table, all encompassing giddiness fogging my brain as I got to my feet again, almost stumbling over my own feet. Snatching the ticket on the table back up, I grabbed the boutique bags from the chair, ascending the staircase as normally as I could muster. Stopping momentarily outside my bedroom door, I slipped the ticket into the music box, being sure to quickly peel away the small adhesive tag from the bottom.

Slipping soundlessly back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me, I put the bags, excluding the music box, on the couch. Alexi was now on his right side on the bed, his deep breathing clearly audible, still fast asleep. I slithered my way up the bed the small bag still in my right hand. I positioned myself directly above Alexi, straddling his waist. With his face upturned, I lowered my chest down onto his, his body easily supporting my own. My lips were soon on his, kissing him intensely. Moments passed, and soon I could feel Alexi returning the kiss. Parting, he said, "Now that's a great way to wake up."

"Un-huh." I said, almost silently, kissing him again. Parting again, I gave him what had to look like a horrible shit eating grin.

He raised an eyebrow at me, asking, "What have you done?"

I didn't reply, pressing my lips against his yet again, long and full. Lifting myself up off him, I straddled his waist again, handing him the small bag. "Here," He grinned at me, a questioning eyebrow still rose. He pulled the wooden box out of the bag, starring at it a mixture of shock and surprise apparent on his face. "Open it." I said, trying my best to hide my own excitement.

He gave me another questioning glace, before pulling open the lid, the black ticket lying inside. "Oh my..." escaped his lips, but my lips stopped his yet again.

I rambled off quickly, as if it were nothing, "Well, Mom told me she couldn't go, and I just had this little birdie tell me you wanted to go, and she actually suggested I ask you." He rolled his eyes at me, as I continued rambled on, "I hope these seats are good enough for you."

"Good? Davey-boy, they're front fucking row!" Setting the box astride us, Alexi wrapped his arms around me, pulling me down onto him, my nonresistant body melting perfectly into his. We began kissing tenderly his baby soft lips, playing with mine. Shifting our combined weight, Alexi had soon shifted himself above me. His lips pressing themselves hungrily against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, and mine his. Time became lucid, staying there near motionless as untold minutes passed. In our kiss we spoke volumes of the bond forged between our young minds, not to mention our mouths! I could feel his heartbeat pumping against my own chest, as well as his fully blood infused organ pressing under his weight against my hip, driving my body wild, incurring a similar stirring in my own groin!

Suddenly a soft knock came at the door. Out of breath, Alexi scrambled himself up to a sitting position, as I tried to do the same. We were trying to create a proper distance between us when the door swung open, my mother appearing in the doorframe. Her face looked immensely tired, I knew she had obviously worked seamlessly through the day, and he body told the story. Despite herself, she gave us a genuine grin, saying "We're taking a break from the paperwork for a bit. Do you boys want to go get something to eat?"

I looked over at Alexi, who just gave me a shrugged look. I replied through a similar expression I'm sure. But what could we do. Of course I just wanted her the heck out of the room, but we couldn't exactly explain why. Turning toward her, I said, "Sure Mom." Her exhaustion apparent, she just nodded her head, and the door slid near silently shut. Turning back to him, I couldn't help but laugh to myself.

"What?"

"Get dressed!"

"Oh god, Davey-boy, do you think she noticed?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. When she's tired like that, she's not really very observant. But she can get kind of chatty when she's exhausted." Snaking my hands up under his shirt, I pulled his shirt off his defined form, running my hands over his hard chest.

"Don't do that, they'll come back."

"Oh don't worry so much!" As if taking my statement as a dare, he wrapped his arms round me, kissing me in the form of a reply, his playfulness totally disarming both of us.

Releasing me slightly he said, "You should probably change too, you wore those yesterday." He pointed at my pants. He pushed his hands up under my shirt, and started tickling my armpits, turning me into a horrible fit of giggles.

"Stop. Stop!" I said through hysteric giggles. "We need to stop or you're right, they will come looking!" I threw on a long sleeved green t-shirt and blue jeans, while Alexi tossed on a dark denim pair of pants, and a crisp white button up shirt, which seemed to make his dirty blonde hair shine even more.

As I pulled on the shirt, I felt Alexi's hands on my waist, his fingers outlining my navel faintly. His fingers sent electricity again through my body, leaning back on his chest, I felt my lips sucking tenderly on his neck, before he stopped me saying, "Don't me a hickey Davey-boy. How are we supposed to explain that?" I moaned softly, running butterfly kisses along his neck and jaw bone. My mouth found his, instantly we became lost in one another again, our tongues dancing, until another knock came at the door.

Horrified, we wrenched apart yet again, both of us running our hands through our hair quickly before the door opened slightly. Mom was again on the other side, "You two ready yet?" she asked, in a slightly perturbed tone. It was my nature to be slow anyway, so I knew she thought nothing of it.

"Sorry Mom," an apologetic look adorning my face, "I couldn't find the shirt I wanted." I lied, convincingly I hope.

Looking me quickly up and down, she said in a not too bemused tone, "Well, now that you've found it, may we go?" Not waiting for any reply, she turned on her heels quickly and headed down the stairs, a faint "click" apparent on every tread.

We followed her at a casual distance, Alexi never wavering from my side. In the few moments since leaving the bedroom, I could sense a deep yearning building within me. Wanting so much to hold his hand, to touch him in the smallest way, flashes of almost sheer anger struck me. Catching Alexi's eyes in my own, for only a fleeting moment, a quiet sigh escaping his lips told me his brain train was running the same track as mine.

In the normal, overtly too-cheery tone parents seem to acquire when in the company of a friend of their child, Mom asked, "How was your day boys?"

"Short" came to mind, but we both knew she wouldn't exactly understand our meaning, so we soon replied, "Fine." In unison, we quickly exchanged sheepish looks at one another. She seemed to instantly have the same lack of interest we obviously brought to the conversation.

Just minutes later, after a quick taxi van ride, we found ourselves sitting at a faux bamboo table, in the Rainforest Cafe, camouflaged speakers emitting animal noises every so often, as the night's sky danced on the ceiling above, complete with simulated weather patterns and lighting effects.

Alexi was seated at my right, with Mom just across the table from me and Dad across from him. After drink orders were taken by a woman who looked to have spent a bit too much time in front of a mirror, or on an inexperienced surgeon's table, I wasn't sure which, my parents took it upon themselves to begin chitchatting at us. Well, I should say at Alexi. Just the typical parents' getting-to-know-you stuff, but it seemed to last forever and a day. My eyes watching Alexi, I could see he was becoming somewhat miffed by what had soon become my mother's near incessant questions. I should have expected it. She had always been overprotective to the extreme of me; I suppose it had something to do with my being the only child in the house once I came along, my sister having just moved into the adult stage of her life.

Slipping my hand into Alexi's under the table, clamping reassuringly onto him. Dinner passed slowly, the two of us unable to speak about anything more than trivial, although they did seem to gradually let up on him, but his grip on my hand did not in the least let up, until we were forced to, when we finally ended the episode by raising from the table.

Minutes later we were waiting on the curb, despite the desert climate a distinct chill in the air. Noticing my discomfort, without thinking, Alexi put his hands on my upper arms. Despite the circumstances, I longed for the contact to continue and progress, but it would need to suffice for the moment. But even that was deprived us, as he soon realized what he had done, and withdrew his hands back to his sides. An idea struck me suddenly, turning quickly into the crux of his neck I whispered to Alexi, "I have an idea, follow my lead." He quickly nodded his understanding.

Just as a cab was pulling up to the loading port, I said to my parents, "You guys go on; I think I need to use the restroom."

My ever concerned mother asked, "You want us to wait on you?"

Alexi broke in, saying, "I'll look out for him Mrs. Greene, you and Mr. Greene can go ahead."

Finalizing the act, I rushed back into the restaurant lobby, Alexi on my hills just as we listened to the taxi pulling away from the curb, taxi engine dieing away into the traffic of Las Vegas Boulevard. I couldn't help but laugh, grabbing Alexi's hand for support in a fit of hysterics, relieved in escaping the inquisition. He asked, "You okay?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," I said, "I'm just glad we're away from them. Mom's never been that horrible with an arsenal of questions. Giving you the third degree, weren't they?"

He shrugged, pulling me close by his right arm around my waist. "Don't sweat it, there just being parents." his eyes downcast as he spoke.

Glancing about, I quickly noticed we, despite ourselves, were being eyed suspiciously by some of the nearby patrons, most with clearly scornful expressions. In a response fueled of sheer resentment, I pressed my body against Alexi's chest even more so. Looking up into those caring sky blue pools, I could see he realized what was playing out around us. In sudden need to escape the unspoken building tension, taking my hand quickly Alexi led us outside to the sidewalk. Standing silent in the cooling desert air, a faint wind toyed with Alexi's shaggy locks, giving him a sheerly sexy look. He spat out, almost inaudible, "Damn I hate people."

Immense sudden anger coursing through me, I squeezed his hand replying, "Fuck um all, they don't matter," finally gaining his full attention with my eyes, I continued, "All that matters, is us. And I can tell you I've been happier in the past two days than I've been all my life!"

His face broke into an almost edible grin. The need to somehow comfort him, I locked my hands around his neck, drawing myself into his comfortable aura yet again. His arms resumed their position, just above my hips. The winds dancing around us, his light fragrance enveloped and intoxicated me, as I laid my face against his strong firm chest muscles. Unwanted attention seemed to focus itself on us yet again. Alexi whispered to me, "People need to learn to get a life." Before I had a chance to react, he leaned his face down into mine, kissing me fully, and forcefully, right there on the sidewalk. As we separated seconds later his expression made all the shit the world could possibly dish out, worth it.

For maybe ten minutes we walked along, heading for the causeway to cross above Las Vegas Boulevard. Free from my mother's intrusion, our bouncy, almost playful, tenor returned. As we crossed, a steady stream of gleaming headlights passing below us Alexi laughed, "I still can't believe what you've done for me Davey-boy, you have no idea!" his hands flying expressively through the chilling air.

Leaning close to my exalted companion, I whispered, "I have an idea". Lost in thought for mere seconds, I realized I was suddenly alone. Just as I was about to turn around, I felt his arms pulling me backward into his chest. Wrapping around me, my body jumping as his arms enveloped me, sending what restraint I had completely over the edge, letting loose a tirade of laughter from both of us.

Settled down after a chunk of the clock has elapsed, we regained some of our former confidence, gravitating toward one another as we walked, connecting once again, if only with our hands. Only a speck of time seemed to have passed when we both noticed we were nearing a little convince strip mall, stuck right in the middle of the mega resort casinos. Large shadows cast by the tall themed buildings created a foreboding atmosphere. In response, my grip on Alexi's hand tightened as we instinctively quickened our steps and hastened through the shadows.

As my fear rose, Alexi, realized what I was feeling, consensually dropped his hand. I knew this somewhat agitated him, as he let out a slight sigh. To compensate, he moved in closer beside me as we walked down the darkened sidewalk. Shredding what little scarp of a safety next we had managed to create, a snide voice came from behind us uttering, "Yo, homos!"

In fright, I almost stopped dead in my tracks, but Alexi's hand on my back kept me moving, breathing in my ear, "Just keep walking."

We both pressed on, as if we had never heard the voice. Up ahead, at the next intersection or so, I could see the bright lights of the Bellagio resort, and on past it, the imposing towers of our home pro-tem, Caesars Palace.

Tense moments passed as we walked, picking up speed as time lapsed. Crossing the street quickly to a brightly light escalator entrance into the Bellagio, we navigated quickly through its wide gilded passageways to another outdoor causeway, this one distinctly Roman themed, crossing above a side street, to a sidewalk adjacent to the main entrance to Caesars.

Our feet finally in contact with the cement sidewalk again, after riding another escalator down from the causeway, we relaxed a bit, as the tangible safety of our home was so close at hand. Nearing the headless goddess statue in the reflecting pools adjacent the hotel, the devilish voice pierced the night air yet again, "I said hey, you fags!" The voice was piercingly, frightfully near.

I instantly covered in a cold sweat, my senses magnified inexplicably. Our tormentor rushed toward us, a guy of medium build, doubtfully ten years older than either of us, clad in grungy jeans, and a well soiled white t-shirt. His gruff appearance was enhanced further with dark stubble, clearly not shaven within a week.

His cruelty filled eyes terrified me the instant I saw them, black as night, almost lifeless. As he came closer, I had no time to scream, nor escape, before my brain registered a sharp pain in my stomach, as a solid fist was shoved into it, knocking my breath out of me, stunning my larynx into silence. Clearly, being the smaller of the two of us, I was the easier initial target.

Grasping my chest in utter horror, he continued his assault by elbowing me in the right cheek. His blow landed with such momentum, it compromised any sense of balance I had retained after the initial blow. Sending my frame impacting with the ground, my senses of sight and sound severally dissipated.

Through my limited perception, my view was narrowed to the bluish green of the illuminated pools not far from where I lay. I could hear nothing but heavy breathing and scuffling, but soon my pain registers were again electrified, as the assailant's foot was firmly implanted in my lower back, and pressed quickly into my right hip. In the moment, I was vaguely aware of what was happening to my body, but I was unable to actually feel it. I could see myself being hurt, but my body defied reality for the moment.

I could hear punches being thrown, and I could only hope to God it was Alexi throwing them. My hope was ratified, as I made out Alexi's voice yelling, "How do you like it, huh?" This was followed shortly by a clear swift punch in the stomach. "Tell me, you sack of shit!" Afterward a kick came, followed by a punch, which I never heard make contact.

Somehow, the confrontation moved around my motionless body, continuing in front of me. I could see, in a silent movie context, Alexi pushing the attacker ever closer to the statuary pools. Subsequently, I watched the boy I had come so quickly to love throw his right leg swiftly against the back of the prick's knees, sending him dazed into the pool. Alexi yelling after him, "Enjoy a swim, you homophobic piece of trash."

What happened to him after that, I neither knew nor cared at the moment, pain beginning to dominate my mind. Lacking the energy and motivation to speak, I felt slight tear droplets seeping from my eyes, mixing with a slow stream of blood seeping from a cut gashed into my right cheek.

Not a second later I felt Alexi hovering above me, his form in a deep fog. I tried my hardest to focus on his handsome face, but I lost the battle. Trying to retain consciousness, I locked my eyes onto what I thought were his. The pain I was feeling grew and grew as the seconds moved by in agonizing slowness. I had no choice but to surrender my consciousness and slipped into a black abyss.

Vision came in short murky flashes, as if I was looking up from the depths of the sea, colors dancing around a central striking, almost painful, light. My full vision returned gradually, as my eyes focused farther. As I opened my lips to speak, my mouth was dry as the desert, me uttering a simple, "A..." which came out as soft moaning.

Within seconds a young woman's kind face hovered little more than a foot above me, her long light brown curls nearly tickling my nose. In a tender tone, she said, "Good to see you waking. You've got a nice cut there." I felt the gauzy patch taped to my right cheek. I suddenly realized I was in an exam room, up on a table wrapped loosely in a white sheet.

I tried to ask her, my mind racing to know why I was here, but despite my intentions, another moan was my only response. "Don't speak" she scolded. Placing her hands behind my back she helped me to reach a seated position on the table, as she handed me a Styrofoam cup filled with water. I sucked down the water quickly as she continued, "Your parents are right outside."

Finally able to speak freely, I asked hurriedly, "What, what happened? Where's Alexi? I was just walking on the sidewalk, and here I am sitting on an exam table!"

"Take a few deep breaths Justin; it's natural to experience memory loss through trauma. Your memories should return with time." My wheels were suddenly turning. Trauma? Searching for answers, I frantically glanced about, frantically taking in the room. I was alone. I quickly began to breath faster, paranoia setting in. "Calm down Justin." she said, attempting to sooth me, "I'll see your parents in."

Opening the door, in walked my mother, her face looked haggard and hair mused. Dad followed closely behind, a grave expression covering his face. Alexi was not with them. Mom walked to the side of the table, setting down on the edge, asking, "How you feeling, babe?"

"I don't know Mom. I don't know why I'm here." I was growing increasingly confusingly angered.

The doctor attempted to explain, "He likely won't remember any of it, Mrs. Greene, which may be a blessing in disguise. When one is attacked, it is common to experience memory loss." I was speechless at the word 'attacked', but clearly neither of my parents were shocked as I was, but she continued unabated, "He should be fine within a few days. From what the young man who assisted him in has told me, he seems to have suffered some bruising from impacts to the ribs and right hip. The cut along the cheek may take a bit longer to heal, and given the location will likely result in a faint scar."

As she rambled, I applied pressure to my hip and ribs, testing her words. Yep, she wasn't just whistling 'Dixie'. Talk about tender! Jeez! Wait a second, if I'm like this, what about Alexi! I forgot about my own pain asking quickly, "What about Alexi?!" Angered, my aches worsened as my entire body shook subconsciously with fear.

Dismissively, Mom said, "He'll be fine."

Despite the pain beginning to become apparent from my chest, they were negligible compared to the pain my heart was suddenly suffering. Where is Alexi? Why had he just left me here? He could have waited till I woke up! Tears were soon pooling in my eyes, as I tried with all my might to keep them from falling. The doctor then said in my direction, "You can go whenever you're ready."

Dad spoke up, asking, "You ready to go son?" I nodded and he responded, "We'll give you a few minutes." With that, he guided Mom back out of the door, the doctor shortly behind them.

With pain and more patience, I slowly tried to redress. The jeans were the biggest pain in the butt, and I don't mean that figuratively because of my quickly bruising hip. I just threw my shoes, the laces tied together, over my shoulder, the socks stuffed inside them.

Walking out of the exam room, my last thin thread of hope was dashed. He wasn't here at all. Wordlessly, I fell into step behind my parents, walking only slightly agitated by the dull ache in my hip. In the moment, I didn't notice it, as my face fell to the floor, my body following the rhythmic 'click' of Mom's heels ahead of me.

The rising of the elevator made me dizzy; although I could barely remember when I'd last eaten. Reaching the suit, I climbed up the stairs silently, relying on the rail for stability. I found the bedroom in a robotic haze, the door 'clicking' shut mechanically behind me.

Eyes quickly searching the room, I became frantic with anger, clawing at the bandage on my cheek, the tape ripping painfully from my skin. I attacked my cloths, tearing my pants devilishly from my small frame. Anger instantly changed to immense sorrow, as I collapsed onto the bed, drawing my body into an embryonic ball. Fiery tears soaked into the pillow as I wept for a loss I couldn't comprehend. My boyfriend, my protector, wasn't there and I knew for the first time in my life how alone I really was in that huge bed. My anguished awareness faded into an agitated sleep.

A special thank you to my editor, D.Z. of Boys in School!

The author welcomes comments or constructive criticisms. All flames will be ignored.

Please direct your comments to: Kateewtitanic@aol.com

This story now has it's own website, which can be found at: http://www.geocities.com/alexiandjustin

As anyone who has read the previous chapter of this work can guess, I am a fan of Celine Dion. I would like to dedicate this segment of this work to the memory of her father, who died days before the completion of this chapter. Thank you!