DISCLAIMER: This is my story. It is not your story. Don't post it on other sites and claim it for your own. If you wish to post it on another site, you may do so as long as you credit the author, myself. This story is based entirely in fiction. Any resemblance to events, past or future, is purely coincidental. If you should not be reading this for whatever reason, then don't. Enjoy the story, and let me know your thoughts on it.
Rave Boy Chapter Two
Do you hate me, reader? Do you want to scream and kick and throw a tantrum over the BITCH of a cliffhanger I left in the last chapter? Well, if you do, then too bad. Because, if you do, you're playing right into my hands, you know. Its really amazing how easy it is to manipulate someone, as if they were a complex, many-stringed marionette. Ya know, that special kind of puppet, like the one Pinocchio was before he became a "real boy". Oh, by the way, if you actually needed me to explain that, get the hell out of my story.
I dislike apologizing. I'm never wrong. I simply am. If you have a problem, you may politely follow the instructions for folding a paper crane (which I could teach you if you had the brain to follow me), and take that problem now in the form of a crane, lube it nicely, and... well, you know.
Contrary to my severe dislike for the following words, I am sorry. That's my little sociopath streak. In the words of the immortal Lisa: "We are very rare, and we are mostly men." Watch Girl, Interrupted. Read the book, too. Lisa ended up heavily sedated and restrained.
So, now, my readers, would you like me to continue? Well, I'll try to, I really will, but it's a bit difficult for me, you see. Telling this story is almost a drain on me, so bear with it if you really want to know what happens. Truthfully, is your mind bitter with distaste for my attitude yet? Allow me to remedy this with a sweet tonic I have so ambitiously entitled Rave Boy, Chapter Two.
I was in his bedroom. I was very, very, extremely, unimaginably, and several other adverbs that I can't think of right now, HIGH. I was every bit as nervous, too.
"Bi, huh? That's nothing. Try being so queer the Baptists hide their sons from you." Yeah, I said it. What, you think I'm a coward? You're right if you do, but in some cases... my sane cowardice that so often steeps itself in lies to remain in control is overpowered by my ludicrously crazed lust for truth. Sorry... digression... happens. His, Jon's, eyes went a little wider, almost imperceptibly. Then he smiled, and started walking like nothing had been said.
"So where do you wanna go? I mentioned a spot earlier, but I thought maybe you'd wanna scout around and see what catches your eye. Courthouse square's a good place to start." I told him. Brief flashes of the immediate future, steamy in nature, went off in my head. No, you're not getting details. Well... maybe later, when we're not in the middle of the plot ;).
"Anywhere's fine with me, Joey, I'm yours for today." Another curious reply... this guy confuses the hell out of me with these little word games. Me, the master manipulator, befuddled by an exchange of phonetic exercises. Well, I can play this game every bit as good as this silvery blue eyed punk-devil ever dreamed he could.
"In that case, since you belong to me, carry me. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed from some stuff I took earlier before the pot, so I'd like a ride. Its only about two streets over to the road that leads straight to the square, and I'll walk that." I smiled, wondering what this challenge would bring about.
The next instant, I was gasping in surprise as my feet left the pavement, and he carried me, as in the way you would pick up a baby and cradle them to your chest, and started to walk calmly by the first block.
"You nimfuck, I didn't mean for you to really do it, I was joking!" I half yelled, half laughed. To tell the truth... this felt so great. It was like a hug, only better, and I hadn't had a hug half as good as this in a long, long time. I felt... safe is the word you'd think to use, but that doesn't describe it. At peace does a better job.
He laughed at me, eyes sparkling with those silvery flecks. "Well, I took it literally! I'm strong enough to carry your scrawny little ass anywhere you need to go. You need a damn honey-bun and some chocolate milk, you're way tiny."
TOPIC RIPAWAY TIME!!!!!!!!! Okay, at that instant... see those words? "You're way tiny."? Yeah, those. Okay, well, think how that is in my mind.
He's joking, right? Or does he not like really skinny guys? I mean... looking at it now... even now it could still go both ways in MY head, and we are in MY head here, after all. Point: it frazzled my already refrazzled nerves. To counteract this, my crazy crazy crazy side, mentioned previously, once again stole the reigns from that lil bitchy, scared sane side.
"Bad thing is you LIKE it!" I yelled at him and stuck out my tongue like a little kid.
"Damn right I do! Otherwise I wouldn't carry ya, what was it you called me... oh yeah. Nimfuck!"
This is the precise moment I knew, really knew... things might be better. It could get better!!! YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA HOW GREAT THAT MOMENT WAS. My life was hell; Jon was a glass of ice water and a fucking A/C unit! Things were just cooling down.
I had no idea how cool they'd get.
In the end, it's never what you thought it would be, OR hoped it would be. I will warn you now, there are no happy endings in REAL life, ever. That's a fairy tale idea that makes people insane. Life, real life, is a battle between pain and pleasure, ugliness and beauty, a feud of polar opposites. Neither of any opposite pair will win out completely. The key to it all, is endurance.
Have you learned something from the twisted whorls of my mind today, reader? Will you endure with me to the end of this story? I promise it will happen. It will probably happen sooner than you think, or want. Remember well what I taught you about endings. That's a life lesson as well as one important in this story. The end, is just that. No one sees it coming, really. No one can change it after a certain point. Often, it is not happy. The end... does not matter. What matters is what you did before. Something I only know now, when its too late, is that you should live it while its there, because the end is soon and seldom happy. Make your happiness and cherish it while its there. Endure.
Endure as I end this chapter. Endure because I have promised another.
Endure, because I endure. Now, reader... I leave you with sad words, and a surprisingly fond farewell. The next chapter will be a doozy, but keep your pants on. No... seriously... keep `em on.