Chapter 1. Romance ended in bloodshed. One x One. Private.

[Cortisol]

J U L I A N



Caleb laughed.
People were always the most beautiful when they were smiling and laughing.

Julian threw his legs over the side of the bed and spotted a scarf lying on the floor and reached over to pick it up. He wrapped the scarf around him in an elegant knot, and then found a pair of sunglasses and placed them over his eyes. Hiding behind dark sunglasses. Incognito. Caleb talked about eating breakfast and going grocery shopping. Julian smiled and turned around saying, “I have already made a shopping list,” as he pulled from his pocket a folded up piece of paper. It was actually a three month old newspaper that Julian found and wrote on. Julian was becoming more alive than he could have imagined. Then Caleb asked if Julian knew anything about cooking. He often watched as the chiefs cooked. He could probably cook. “Cooking isn’t hard. You just follow the recipe.” Julian said as if he cooked before. He walked down the hallway. Julian had never cooked before. He hadn’t even poured his own cereal. His mother told him Julian’s hands shouldn’t do trivial things, hands like Julian’s, and had to be protected. Only meant to play instruments.

“I don’t require sustenance right now…and you don’t like breakfast. Instead we’re exploring. Follow me.” Julian said as he approached the door. Then he held out his hand to stop Caleb. “Let me try opening this beast of a door. Stand back. Things can get messy.” Julian faced the door as if he was facing an opponent. He grabbed the door handle with his uninjured hand and after five minutes finally managed to manhandle it open. Breathing heavily he nodded his head and walked out the door. “Men, today we walk.” Julian spoke as they exited the apartment complex. Even though it was just Caleb and Julian. They walked down the street and as they walked Julian pulled out his cellphone. “Pretend this is microphone, Caleb, we’re going to have an interview. I will ask you questions and you will answer.” Julian said to pass the time. Julian didn’t know where they were going yet, but he knew, that once they got there they would be in the exact place that Julian wanted to be.

"Hello, my name is Julian. It's an honor to have thee Caleb here in my studio."

“Caleb, I hear that you’re a bartender? Have you always wanted to be a bartender?” Julian asked his voice going up on stressed syllables and going down on unstressed syllables. All the years that Julian had been interviewed now came naturally as he asked questions. “Do you have a hobby? Something you like to do in your free time? A favorite color? Favorite food? Favorite book? What is it that makes Caleb…Caleb? How is your relationship with your family? Where do you see yourself in five years? What are your likes/dislikes?”

They had been walking around for an hour. Julian leading. Then Julian found it. The spot they were meant to end up. It was a music shop. “We are here, men. For the two people who love music.” Julian pushed open the door. The whole store was heavily decorated in posters and other musical motifs. The store was filled with records, and C.Ds and stations where you can scan the barcode of any record and listen to it with headphones. “Go forth and find your favorite CD and listen to it. Forget your worries and drown yourself in music.” Julian announced as he moved away and began to explore. After finding a CD that caught his interest Julian went up and scanned it. Placed the headphones on and began to listen to the first track.

After. Julian grabbed Caleb and pushed him out the door. “Let’s go grocery shopping. I’m famished.” Julian pulled out the newspaper with the grocery list and handed it to Caleb. “You lead now. For I haven’t a clue where we are.”

[U n d r a w n]

C a l e b


"A shopping list?" Man this kid was prepared. He saw that the kid had written on the pizza box, the newspaper. He'd have to buy a notebook for him while they were out. When he asked if he cooked, Julian replied saying it wasn't hard at all. "Okay." Caleb responded. Maybe Julian could teach him how to cook better. He burned or under cooked everything he touched. When Caleb went to open the door, Julian stopped him and said he wanted to try and open it. "Hah. Alright, go for it." He said nodding his head. After he opened it up Julian went back to playing General. It reminded Caleb of some type of kid. Always wanting to play games. There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with it at all. He sort of liked the way Julian seemed all innocent. He just hoped he wouldn't corrupt the kid. Julian pulled out the cellphone Caleb gave him and held it out saying it was a microphone. "Yeah, okay. I can do that." Julian held up the microphone and began asking questions. Questions that Caleb would have to lie about more.

"Well, Julian." He said trying to sound like the men on radio stations. It was hard because he felt his voice sounded much more raspier and a lot worse than majority of people on the radio. With all the smoking he did. "I didn't always want to be a bartender." He responded at first. "I sort of just ended up getting hired one day when I by accidentally ran into the man who owned the club. I really enjoy it, though. So, I'm happy with what I do." Julian went on asking questions. Every so often Caleb would continue to reply, "Gray." for a favorite color. "Pizza." For a favorite food. "The Perks Of Being A Wallflower." Caleb hadn't read the book yet, but the nurse told him to get the book from the library and make that the first book he read. He'd have to stop at a book store before they got back too. "What makes me me?" He tried to think of a good answer. The real answer he thought would be 'Allen'. But he couldn't say that to Julian. "I guess being alive. And yeah, me and my family are close. I just visited my mother the other day. She is doing well. I love them." He asked where Caleb saw himself in five years. How did he answer that? "I don't know." He started to dislike all the questions, so in return he began repeating questions back. Maybe Julian had some more interesting answers. It was tiring to lie all the time.

When they ended up inside of a music store Caleb stood there stupidly at first. He looked at Julian as the boy told him to drown himself in music. Music? He slowly moved down the CD isle stopping at the CD. By The Throat, Eyedea & Abilities. He scanned the CD and went to his theme song. Burn Fetish. The beat kicked off and it didn't take too long before his voice filled Caleb's head.

Teeth marks on the skin. The greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing me that I was him. We like the feel of blood and fat dripping off our gums. She likes to talk directly down the barrel of her gun. Learning to perfect the ancient art of quiet rape. You've always been so warm and calculated I owe you a thanks. Eyes wide shut, I promise not to fall awake. Lick the guillotine and tell you how the gasoline tastes. The grass is always greener on the other pesticide...

328 words. Well, without the chorus that was. He memorized the song word for word and counted plenty of times before. He even committed suicide to this song twice. It was just his song. Described him perfectly. Everyone thought it was impossible to find a song to describe him better. At least, back when he was in high school. Jamie picked the song for him. She came in one day with it and showed him, saying it described him. It brought him back so many years. She asked him to find a song for her too. He never did. Not until after he dropped out of high school and stopped seeing her. Pretend, by LIGHTS. The Reprise Album Version. That described it perfectly to him. Sea Lion, by Sage Francis for Holden. Holden was given his life and just didn't know what to do with it. He was ignorant still trying to find his place. That's why Caleb gave him that one. He gave theme songs to everyone. He glanced over at Julian as he began to listen to a CD he picked out as well. Caleb would have to find a theme song for him too. Push, by Milosh came to his mind for Julian. But he didn't really know him well enough to make it the official theme song yet. One day he'd think of the perfect one for Julian too. He hit the back button and began to listen to it again. He would've listened to that one song all day, but Julian came over.

"Lets go grocery shopping. I'm famished." Caleb nodded his head. "Yeah sure." He said taking the headphones off and placing them down. He moved out of the doors and Julian admitted he had no idea where they were. "No problem. Lets just find a subway station and take the 5 train to 56th. I know a grocery store near there." So, he moved along the subway and three stops later he was walking down the street and came to the grocery store he was talking about. He went inside and rubbed an eye before moving forward. "What's on that shopping list?" He asked. It was like a scavenger hunt trying to dig out all of the items Caleb had to find. Maybe more like a Where's Waldo Book. He was standing in line waiting for his turn when he looked back at Julian. "Hey. I meant to buy you a notebook. After we make some breakfast we should find you a notebook." He remembered the clothing too. "And clothes. You probably need clothes." He let out a slow sigh trying to decide what to do about Allen tonight. It wouldn't be sketchy if he just kept leaving some nights for an hour or two. Right? He could just say he was hanging out with friends or something. Caleb didn't know what do do. He paid for the groceries and began to make his way down the street again.

"So what will we make with all this stuff after we get home?" He asked as he moved back to the subway station to head back to a street near his apartment. He walked the few blocks and then kicked the door twice to open it. He went to the kitchen placed the groceries down and then opened up the fridge as he started to put everything away.

[Cortisol]

J U L I A N



It had been a long time since Julian was allowed the privilege of having somebody to talk with…instead of somebody talking at him…or to him. Unscripted speech. There wasn’t anybody there to tell Julian what to say, or how to act, or how to look when he spoke or acted. Everything was candid…or at least for a little while. Caleb tried to ask Julian questions but he evaded, changed topics, and distracted. Julian wasn’t in the spotlight right now. Julian wasn’t in the spotlight yet. Caleb was. “Just the basic necessities when going grocery shopping. A notebook really?” Julian gushed; becoming so infatuated over the myriad of everyday things like a notebook and a music store. Freedom. Then they reached the subway and Julian stopped abruptly.

“I have never ridden a subway before.” Julian admitted. The subway was for the overpopulated poor filth of the city. His mother only spoke of horror stories that belittled the public transportation system. Julian inhaled and exhaled before following Caleb. Julian wasn’t scared on the contrary he was so excited that he wanted to capture and remember every moment. When they reached the grocery store Julian pulled up the scarf to make sure it covered him properly and pushed the sunglasses further up his nose. Then they left the store with bags of groceries.

“We’ll have spaghetti and salad and iced water with lemon for lunch.” Julian announced as they walked through the door of Caleb’s apartment. Spaghetti wasn’t a finger food. It was easy enough to make right? While Caleb began to put away groceries Julian grabbed a pan and began filling it up with water. “Thank you for tuning in to 'Cooking with Julian'. You have to put water in the pan first and boil it and stuff…” Julian began to speak as if he was on a cooking channel as he moved to fill a good sized pot with water He looked at the burner…what temperature should he turn the heat too? Medium, seemed like the most logical choice. “Then you take the head of lettuce and rinse it with water. Grab a bowl and just shred the lettuce bits.” Julian continued. He didn’t know the food terminology. Made it up as he went along. When the water began to boil was when Julian added the noodles.

Then poured the canned red sauce into another pan and placed it on a burner shimmering over low heat. Cooking was just logic. Julian stood over the stove the whole time. “Well, isn't this just enjoyable. Cooking a meal for myself. I’m pretty self-efficient.” Julian smiled proud of himself. Julian tried a noodle to make sure it was cooked all the way. Drained the spaghetti and added the red sauce. Julian then placed a plate full of spaghetti, a bowl of salad, and a water with lemon in front of Caleb, “There sit back and eat my masterpiece. Oh the deliciousness you will encounter.”

The noodles were slightly overcooked. The sauce too hot. The water too lemony. But, Julian just laughed. It was the first meal he had made with his own two hands. And one hand was completely useless. “Maybe…I can’t exactly cook after all…but you have to eat it…you can’t waste food. You have to eat all of it or you’ll get sick from malnutrition.”

Pause.

“Don’t feel obliged to entertain me…I mean if you have places to go and people to see…then don’t be afraid to say so. I am just content to write music.” Besides, Julian was running out of time, and he didn't want to spend what time he had being free, sleeping. It wasn’t like Julian was going to stay here forever. He had to go back…that inevitable fact loomed over him like a storm cloud. He couldn’t put his life on pause forever. Julian didn’t want to get used to being here just like he didn’t want Caleb to get used to him being here. It would be painful when they had to separate…at least to Julian it would be painful.

[U n d r a w n]

C a l e b


"You never road a subway?" He asked. "Just stay close and don't get lost. Hold on once we get inside, otherwise you'll probably fall on the ground once it starts moving." Caleb said laughing. It took some time to get used to the subway. The two of them successfully bought everything then once they got back to his apartment, Julian announced they were going to have spaghetti, salad and ice water with lemons. Ice water with lemons? Like lemonade? Julian began announcing how to make everything and Caleb watched carefully as he continued on each step. The boy went back to pretend and this time he was some famous chief on the TV.

"Well, isn't this just enjoyable." Caleb nodded his head. "Yeah. You're a really good cook." He said as Julian finished up the meal and made him a plate then placed it in front of him. He wanted Caleb to eat it all or he'd get sick from malnutrition. That boat sailed a long time ago. Caleb's body was already adapt to the little amount of food. In return he was constantly tired, weak, got sore from simple things like spending a day walking around, or a night of sex. It was hard for him to loose anymore weight that he had. He took a fork and went ahead to eat it. Julian said he wasn't that good a cook. "No this is really good. It's like being at a five star restaurant." Caleb said as he took another bite. He took a sip from the water and found he quite liked the lemon in it. That didn't surprise him though. Holden and Caleb used to sit around eating lemons as if they were oranges back when they were younger. They'd always test out to see who could eat the most at once. Lemons were good memories. The salad also tasted good. He looked down to see he ate 1/4th of the spaghetti, half the salad and drank all the water. "I'll save the rest for later." He said standing up and putting it in a container, then slipping that into the fridge.

"Don't feel obliged to entertain me..." Caleb shut the fridge door and faced Julian. He gave Caleb the okay to do whatever he wanted without feeling bad about leaving him there. Caleb slowly nodded his head. "Yeah... Alright. I actually think I'll head out now then. I was planning to meet some friends later but if I go now I can come home earlier." That was logical. Hopefully Allen wouldn't want anything annoying tonight. He moved over putting most the money back hidden in his room and only kept enough money to buy a notebook and maybe a few candy bars. He didn't want to lug around a lot of money. He'd be devastated if someone mugged him while he had anything more than 1oo dollars on him. He made his way to the door and turned around waving to Julian. "I'll be back soon. Text me if you need anything." Then he left and moved down the hall back onto the street. The first thing he did was stop at some little 24-hour store and he went inside and bought a notebook. He yawned as he was waiting on line for someone to check him out. It didn't take too long. After he bought it they placed it in a little baggie and Caleb moved back onto the street and took a subway to Allen's loft.

He stood there a few moments staring at the door before knocking. There was no telling what Allen wanted, he'd only seen Caleb that once at St. Regis since he'd been out of the hospital. It didn't take long for the door to open and Allen stepped to the side to allow Caleb to walk inside. The door was shut behind him and he turned to face Allen. "Hi. I'm sorry." Was the first thing he said to the man.

[Cortisol]

F I T Z P A T R I C K

“I’m a Detective…DETECTIVE. Not babysitter he’ll turn up. He always turns up.” Fitzpatrick said breathlessly. Fitzpatrick had been jogging in the park when he received the phone call. Sweatband, yellow. Track suit, grey. Running shoes, red. An iPod strapped to his arm. A small sliver of sweat already covering his body. He was nine miles in his ten mile run. Running cleared his mind, but now it was already filled, and with something that had a remedy of smacking some sense into a kid. “This is what his seventh time running away? Put a beeper on this kid.” Fitzpatrick continued as he entered the park from the east side. Fitzpatrick had been on the force for five years and the Laurent’s called around seven times to report their so has run away. And since the beginning they had managed to stick Fitzpatrick with tracking the kid down.

It was a different feeling when the kid was thirteen…but now that he was eighteen Fitzpatrick was just irate. “He’s eighteen. He wasn’t kidnapped. He’s an adult.” Fitzpatrick explained. That was the way society worked. The police paid more attention to those families who were in the limelight, the families with money, the public figures, than those families from the projects. The welfare cases. The poverty had broken home families. Essentially, there was more to gain, more benefits, by helping the rich. “I know that Mrs. Laurent is hysterical…believe me I met the woman high strung as ******** I can’t just drop everything and look for her son…get a uniform. I know they personally requested me, they always, request me.” Fitzpatrick pressed his fingers to the pulse on his neck trying to count how many beats per minute while the voice on the other end screamed at him.

“Why is Mrs. Laurent going to the media now? She never went to the media the other seven times he had run away. I met that kid…he’s a natural born manipulator. I had a hard time saying no to him. That’s what happens when you have fifty thousand people clapping for you. It eventually warps your mind.” Fitzpatrick said as he began to jog in place. All this talking left him breathless. The voice on the other line was still screaming and Fitzpatrick yanked the phone away for a few seconds before pressing it back up against his ear. “Roger and I are already undercover…we’re off the grid right now as we speak. Did the Chief give you this number?”

Fitzpatrick began jogging again. Breathing through his nose and out his mouth…or was it the other way around? “Julian is a clever ******** kid. I don't buy that innocent act one bit. She really has nobody to blame but herself. After seducing his piano teacher I told Mrs. Laurent. I told her to get that kid some psychological help. Remember what I told you? Julian seduced his piano teacher.The teacher went to jail! Lost his credibility. Everything. This type of psychotic s**t is up our alley, yes!…But we’re….okay…okay…fine…I’ll keep my eye out for the kid. I’ll ask around and s**t. Send me his recent photo. Happy?” Fitzpatrick said with a smile. The voice calmed down, appeased, and then Fitzpatrick shook his head and bent over a park bench. Wheezing as he breathed.

Pulling his water bottle he squelched the liquid into his mouth nearly choking before finally calming down. He began walking towards the exit of the park. Fitzpatrick walked down the block and came to a blue glass building. Called “Garden of Eden” and pushed through the door. After changing into a set of clean clothes Fitzpatrick talked with the pretty receptionist who told him to place all valuables: cellphone, wallet, and Ipod into a safe. Fitzpatrick had a fake wallet with a fake I.D. Everything even his cellphone had a new identity. Come this way. Fitzpatrick was already undercover. They moved into a room where everybody sat around in a circle.

Fitzpatrick sat down and cleared his throat, “Hello…I’m Riley O’Connor…and I am a sex addict.” Fitzpatrick did enjoy the sexual experience but he could have rung Roger’s neck for making him do this. But, he kept his eye on him.

[Cortisol]

J U L I A N



How could Julian explain that euphoric feeling of standing on stage with the spotlight flooding him in light as he heard the thunderous applause? All he saw was darkness as he looked out into the audience, he couldn’t see them he was blinded by the light, but he could hear them. The hands clapping, the whistling, the vocalization. All fifty-thousand people vibrated him to his marrow. Caleb had left and Julian went to lay down on the bed. Julian had taken what he thought was a pain killer. Whatever the pill was left him sweating and trapped in euphoria.

He had stripped to his underwear and just sprawled out on the bed wrapped in the sheets. Hearing the factious audience. His hair dripping wet. His cheeks flushed in red. He stayed in the shower until his skin was seared in red before coming out. The cellphone in his hand. Then the phone began to vibrate and Julian flipped it open. One new message. Caleb? No…it wasn’t Caleb.

"Are you still alive, Caleb?"
It was a message from f*****t Face.

Julian stared at the text. Who was f*****t Face? Julian hit the reply button and slowly began to type out a message back. Before hitting send. Then added up a follow up message.

“I am sorry this isn’t Caleb. Caleb is out with his friends. This is Julian.”
“But, Caleb is still alive.”

Julian waited to see if the person replied back and within seconds Julian received another message. Saying, “Hello Julian. How do you know Caleb?”

Before Julian realized it he had spent over an hour texting back and forth to the stranger. His fingers fumbled over each letter and he grew frustrated several times when he kept misspelling words. Julian wasn’t very useful when the stranger kept asking him questions. Julian didn’t remember anything. He easily forgot. Then the stranger asked if Julian was Caleb’s friend. Julian didn’t know how to answer. He rolled off the bed and onto the floor swallowing. Their connection was hard to explain. It wasn’t a simple yes or no question. Julian liked simple yes or no questions. Questions that didn’t fit into this category confused Julian. For a while Julian didn’t answer. Instead he walked to Caleb’s closet and randomly put on a shirt and curled back in bed. Then went back to the phone and typed back. “Yes, we’re friends.”

Julian didn't know how to delete the messages. Just left them on the phone.

Then the stranger thanked Julian for being there with Caleb. Told Julian…told Julian that he didn’t have to worry so much. Julian stopped texting back. It wasn’t any Julian’s concern. The questions stopped and the compliments started. So, Julian stopped responding. Julian grabbed the tall glass of water and popped another pill before falling back down into a blissful state of peacefulness. Waiting for something anything and at the same time waiting for nothing at all. Just being there. Alive. Was enough.

Then Julian grabbed the cellphone and found Caleb's number before typing up a text message.

"Caleb are you still alive?"

[U n d r a w n]

H o l d e n




"Say it again to my face!" He yelled throwing his arms out to the side. He wanted Kyle to open his ******** mouth again so he had a reason to break his nose in. He was silent. Everyone was silent. Everyone? You are probably asking. Well, he was at Home Base. What's Home Base? The gang's safe house. Here there were always random people from the gang hanging out when they had nothing better to do. There were drugs hidden everywhere since there were so many members around to protect them. People would walk up to the door and come in when they wanted drugs. When they would walk in they were always scared to death. They'd ask for their drugs and then leave quicker than they came. The thing Holden loved was how polite they were. Fear made people polite. "What's up with you?" Kyle asked. "You've been all..." BOOM. Holden slammed him back against the wall and landed two punches against his face before two guys he didn't know ran over to rip him backwards.

"Chill man! Chill!" Someone yelled. "I'll ******** smash your face in!" He barked trying to rip out of the grasp. The doorbell rang, and everyone tensed up. Regulars just walked through the door. If somebody knocked or rang the doorbell everyone freaked the ******** out. They let go of Holden and he moved to the side of the room, grabbing a gun off the counter. Police never even came around. Three had been killed in this neighborhood. They could have guns laying out where ever the ******** they wanted. They were the boss. The door was opened up and inside walked Jamie. For real? Jamie? What the ******** was she doing here? She didn't do drugs. "Jamie!" He called out. She stopped to look out and it only took half a second to realize it was Holden. "Is that you?" She asked smiling. "I got this one." Holden brought her upstairs and moved into a room. "What the ******** are you doing here?" She brought her hand up brushing her hair from her face. "Um... My friend asked me to come here. It's exams week and she asked me to pick up an ounce of weed. You know? To help her stress. You are... So you're... You've grown up." She let out an embarrassed laugh. "Ah. s**t Jamie." He moved to the closet and grabbed a container with an ounce of weed inside. They also grew shrooms in that closet, but, obviously nobody needed them now. They chatted, caught up a bit, then he swapped numbers with her and saw her to the door. He closed it up and when he turned back around all eyes were on him.

"What?" He asked. Kyle waved his hand. "Come here. sit." So, Holden walked over and took a seat. "What?" He repeated again in the same exact tone. "The heroin problem. I swear to God I have been seeing ******** needles on the streets lately everywhere. ******** junkies." Some guy Holden didn't know complained. "Heroin problem?" He asked curiously. He'd already had a heroin problem of his own. "Yeah. ******** assholes selling on our turf." Holden crossed his arms as he sat against a wooden chair. Valentine wasn't pushing around here. He probably continued branching off starting from the new connections he made at that party. That was on the south side of the city. Not near the west side. Ah ********. Caleb didn't want to think about Valentine. No. ******** that. He had a bone to pick with that kid.

"I'll kill anyone selling around here." He said standing up walking back to the gun on the counter. He picked it up again, liking the feeling of waving a gun around aimlessly. It made him feel in power. Holden wasn't one of those kids who usually had guns laying around. Jason had one, but he didn't really touch it. Guns were an expensive waste of money unless you needed to protect something, or were killing someone. Holden always considered being an assassin. Hitman. Whatever they were called. He'd heard stories of gangs paying 6o,ooo dollars for a single kill if they wanted someone dead enough. "Pfft. Holden we aren't killing anyone. We're laying low, remember?" Holden didn't have to lay low. Roger promised he'd have immunity to the ******** system. That meant he could get away with murder, right? Even if it was Valentine. "Why?" He asked. "Cause ******** Jason is missing, there was a drug raid and they arrested 4 big players in the city." Kyle crossed his arms. "Plus, all this heroin is popping up outta nowhere trying to take our city over. We're not the only gang who knows nothing about this." He looked to the side. "And all the murders." Holden muttered as it came to his head. Oscar, the lunchboxes. Everyone who touched one dying. How much longer did Valentine have anyways? 2 weeks?

Holden lost count. The day after he woke up he overdosed, then Jason found him and he had to get his stomach pumped. He spent a few days nearly in comatose from the amount of drugs he was using. He couldn't even remember what happened. This was the first day he wasn't too high to function. "Yeah..." He heard someone else mumble. "And the murders."

[U n d r a w n]

A l l e n
















He was already pinned against the floor. "That's right. Because I own you." He said very calmly, very softly, and very sincerely. "I've raised you into who you are today." Which wasn't a lie. Without Allen Caleb wouldn't be who he was. Allen molded him into what he wanted to be. He helped Caleb dig down deep to learn who he really was. "You wouldn't be able to survive without me. Do you know why, love?" Caleb was huffing for air just underneath the shoe. It wasn't that he couldn't breath with the shoe resting on his chest. It was just he was so nervous and having a panic attack that his airways closed shut without Allen needing to lay a finger on him. "Be-Because." He whimpered. "Are you really going to let your petty little panic attack start up now?" Allen asked, slowly taking his foot away from Caleb, then kneeling down to face him closer. "You would be perfect if you weren't so useless. What am I to do with somebody who is useless?" He asked wrapping his hand around Caleb's shirt, then lifting him from the ground and leading him on the bed. The blonde boy who was half his age sat there with his face turning ghost white. He tried to murmur up words but all that did was cause a bit of spit to launch from his mouth and spew around in his clean air. In his clean loft. "You already know I dispose of the useless ones." He said, finally managing to smile for the first time since Caleb came through the door of his two story loft. Caleb knew that very well. He watched a girl have her throat slit right before his eyes. It was a lesson Caleb would never forget.

Allen was God.

Everybody's life was in his hands. Allen felt the need to break Caleb down some more tonight. Why? Because of Julian. "You are special, though. Not like the others. You know this, darling." He said taking his hat off and lightly placing it on his desk. He unwrapped his scarf and placed it on top of the hat afterwards. He faced Caleb again, looking at the boy trying to gather himself. "So even when you are useless, I wouldn't kill you. That is why nobody will ever love you as much as me." He explained as he stood back in front of Caleb. It was true. Nobody ever would. When Holden found he was useless, his brother turned on him and disowned him. Now he wouldn't even look Caleb in the face. He'd lost all his friends, teachers, schooling, goals, hopes, dreams. He lost everything and nothing ever tried to give him a second chance. Allen was the only one. Caleb knew that very well by now. "Half your life... Dedicated to me." He spoke as if it were a book. That's all anyone was really. A book. A toy. Entertainment. A ********. A thing. People were not human. "I have been all you've ever needed, and more. Why don't you appreciate that?" He asked gently running a finger along Caleb's shoulder. The boy seemed to have calmed down as Allen spoke, now he was taking in slow breaths and staring at the ground in a defeated manor. "I need to lay down." Caleb said putting his head down and resting against the king sized bed. "Lie. You need to lie down." Allen always corrected Caleb when he said something stupid. "I'm sorry." Caleb said shutting his eyes and pulling his limbs closer to himself. "For what?" Allen asked, the boy was never supposed to say sorry for no reason. That was not okay.

"For being stupid. and for making you think I'm trying to replace you." Replace? Allen had never said replace. "Hah! You are trying to replace me with a child?" He asked treated Caleb like he was an idiot. "You could never replace me. Do you know why you want to have that child around you?" Allen asked. Caleb lightly glanced towards Allen, moving his head and relaxing his muscles a bit as he shifted positions. "No." He answered. "You don't like people. Do you?" Caleb dug his head into the blankets closing his eyes again. He didn't hate people. No. He didn't. Just be couldn't relate to any of them. Then he thought about Roger, kidnapping him and arresting him and using him. He thought about Holden. Disowning him and not being patient and understanding. His mother, playing stupid and never interfering too much. Everyone. He always had to lie to everyone. "No. I don't like people." Caleb figured was the right answer. Because people didn't like him. "Good boy." Allen responded. "Do you even know who Julian is?" He asked lightly placing a finger over his lips. Everyone knew Caleb didn't watch the TV much. "I could tell you what a monster the boy is." Allen sat on the bed and was now whispering. Caleb had to listen extra well to understand what he was saying. "No." Caleb quickly voiced into the sheets. "No what?" Allen asked. "No. Don't tell me. I'm sorry. Please don't tell me." He lightly put his hand up Caleb's shirt, running his fingers along his spine. Feeling for the burn marks in his skin. "The day you realize what a mess you've gotten yourself into. I will fix all your problems. Do you want to know the only reason they released you from the hospital?" Caleb slowly nodded his head, Allen could feel Caleb's body twitching as he continued to move his hands. "Because of me." He lied. "You are only safe because of me. You are only free because of me."

He lightly brought his hand away from Caleb and then Caleb pulled up from the sheets. He could see a look of desperation in Caleb's eyes. The boy wanted to believe he was independent, and fit to care for another being. He wanted to believe he was useful. How could he? Caleb ruined everything. Even that stray cat he found when he was 17. He took it in and tried to care for it. It ended up dead two months later. Why? Because Allen killed it. Allen made sure Caleb knew he wasn't fit for anything. Why? Because Allen didn't want it. Julian gave Caleb hope. Now what would Caleb give up for some hope? "I will help you care for your new little belonging." Allen whispered again. "What will you give me in return?" He asked watching Caleb carefully. "Anything. I will give you anything." The blonde boy hoisted himself up on his knees and crawled closer to Allen. "What do you want?" He asked. Allen could feel Caleb's pocket vibrate. He had a phone inside. He would've normally beat him up demanding to know who was texting him without his permission. But why ruin such a perfect moment? The bliss of somebody giving you a complete surrender. That submissive look wanting to please you as if their life depended on it.

[U n d r a w n]

C a l e b


Caleb was not allowed to kiss him. He was not allowed to undress Allen or himself without permission. Yet at the same time he wanted Allen to love him that badly. He brought his head forward and rested it against Allen's neck. He lightly dug his forehead into his skin. "I will do anything." He said again. He wanted Allen to love him that badly. And he wanted to keep Julian that badly. There was no logic behind anything. He glanced up looking at Allen, who was staring straight ahead. His eyes caught a picture on a newspaper laying on the desk and he was scanning it over. Caleb didn't know why he did that. Allen would ignore everything you were saying if something caught his eye. In public he was always the last to speak freely in a group without a question directed specifically to him. Because he was so busy examining and watching things. Caleb always assumed that was why he was so smart. Allen was the smartest person he knew. Caleb took the opportunity to scoot a little closer and bring his head back down to touch his skin. He liked making contact with Allen. It was his favorite.

"What is it that you want?" Allen asked finally looking down at Caleb. "I want to do anything for you." Caleb tried answering what he wanted to hear. "What is it that you want for your new little pet?" He reworded the question for Caleb. "I want..." He never got to ask Allen for stuff. This was a weird experience. At least he never got to seriously ask Allen for stuff. Normally it would never be considered. "I don't like my apartment. The door is broken and it's messy and small." Caleb was hoping Allen could connect the dots himself. Caleb was spending a lot more time at his apartment with somebody else now, truth was a new apartment would be a lot of help. Maybe both of them would be able to get a bed. "And I want to buy him... Food and notebooks and pens." He said dropping his gaze to the sheets. He began to trace his fingers along the black design as he moved his head back from Allen's shoulder. A bigger apartment. More money. What else did Caleb want? He didn't even know what else he could want. Allen stood up and moved over to his desk. He picked up the newspaper and placed it in a trash can near the door. He must've not liked it. He turned back around and walked towards Caleb. "Do you know how much money you make each month?" He asked. Caleb had never kept count before. He didn't get to keep most of it so he never knew what the point was. Allen just fished out money whenever Caleb needed it. He never usually asked for money when he wanted it.

"No." He answered. "I will allow you to keep every dollar you make, while you have this little boy with you." Allen told him. He moved forward and ran a finger along Caleb's chin. "Because I am so sorry for sending my little darling to the hospital. If you had stayed put with me, I would have brought you back to health just fine myself. I would never hurt you if it were my choice." He explained. "I always feel so horrible when you make me do things like that to you." Caleb's eyes watered up as Allen continued to touch his face. He was so happy to hear that. He was so happy to hear it was his fault and Allen didn't hate him. He was so happy to hear that he was the reason Allen hurt him. He knew it was ******** stupid of him too. But he didn't even care. He just didn't give a s**t. "Thank you." Allen waved his arm. "Come. Move to the living room." Once they were back by the living room Allen turned on the fancy oven and pointed to a wooden chair with red lining and a red cushion on it. Caleb sat down as he was told, then watched Allen. "You will have to earn everything you get." Allen said as he sat across from him "I cannot just let you have this boy, without paying for it.... Excuse me. Him." He corrected himself. A lot of the time Allen called Caleb an it too. He didn't know why he did that. "Yes I know." Caleb said looking towards Allen, who moved over to the kitchen area again. He opened the knife drawer and moved back to Caleb with a steak knife in his hand. "How long do you expect to keep him?" He asked sitting down. "I don't know." Allen leaned forward, resting his chin over the hand with the knife. "If this becomes one of your little long-term games..." Allen said spacing off, Caleb could literally watch his gaze change from looking at Caleb, to shifting off to his head. He was daydreaming something.

"I will have to personally meet this boy myself, and see if he is useless." Caleb didn't know if that was a threat or not. He was obviously telling Caleb if Julian stayed too long there was a possibility he'd kill him. He didn't know if he'd seriously do it or not. He didn't know what to respond. He didn't want Julian to die. "Robert said he was staying until his hand heals. Is that correct?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "I don't know." Caleb answered.

An hour and a half later of their talking, and actions Caleb fixed up his sweatshirt and wiped a small amount of dry blood from his finger on his jeans. "Can I leave now?" Allen slowly turned to look at Caleb. "May. How did you just speak to me?" Was his response. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. May I please leave now?" Allen waved his hand out, "Yes. You may." He said as he turned his attention back towards what he was cooking. Caleb moved out of the door and walked back to his apartment with the notebook he bought Julian pulled close to his body so he wouldn't lose it or something. On the subway he checked his texts to see Julian asking if he was alive. What? Of course he was. Why would Julian ask that?

ya omw

He send the text and just 15 minutes later was walking through his front door. "Hi. Sorry. I'm home." He stated looking around his apartment for Julian. "I brought you a notebook." He said as he moved into the bedroom and saw Julian laying there. "Hey... Are..." He wasn't sure if he was high or playing a game or what. Instead of getting all up in Julian's business he held the notebook out for him to take. "Here. I got this for you." He said nodding his head. "I'm... So I've decided to move. Want to help me pick out a new apartment tomorrow?" He asked. Caleb had no idea how you even picked out a new apartment. It wasn't like they just grew on trees. He was a bit nervous himself. He slowly slipped his hands into his pockets with a small smile growing on his face at the thought of moving. Getting away from this s**t hole block.

[Cortisol]

J U L I A N



Julian didn’t ask Caleb why he was moving so suddenly. He just accepted it as a truth value and based his beliefs on that one acceptation. The important thing was that Julian was going with Caleb. Julian wasn’t some left behind animal. Neither of them knew how to go about looking for a new apartment, but together they managed to find one. The apartment was bigger, cleaner, wider, and brighter. It smelled of freshness and cleaning products. It even had a bedroom for Julian. Everything Julian needed was within that bedroom. Violin. Notebooks. Pens. A window that lead to a fire escape. Julian didn’t even think about jumping. However, he did climb out a few times when Caleb was working and watched the city. He never realized that the city was a breathing, pulsating, life-force.

Everything was so inspiring. The whole city hummed in a melody and Julian captured that melody, captured the city’s song, on the notebooks that Caleb bought him. Each notebook had a specific instrument. He was currently working on the viola notebook, sitting at the kitchen counter, when the cell phone vibrated. There were only two people who texted messaged Julian. The first was Caleb, and Caleb was in the next room, so by process of elimination it had to be Roger; the second person to text message Julian. To Julian, Roger wasn’t real, because Julian had never met Roger. Roger was no different than a mental conjugation. Actually, Julian never got around to asking Caleb about Roger.

It wasn’t any of Julian’s business. Then again Julian was being hypocritical because he kept answering the messages. Roger wanted to know Caleb’s address. Julian clicked his tongue before replying. Then Julian told Roger that Caleb was going to work soon, but Roger, still wanted to visit Caleb. Julian placed the phone in his pocket when Caleb walked out. “What time will you be back today?” Julian asked. It wasn’t a suspicious question. Just a question. Julian didn’t want to recognize it, but whenever Caleb returned home, he had this frightening look in his eyes. He had the same eyes Julian had. Wild manic dead eyes. But, maybe, just maybe all bartenders and musicians had the same eyes. Julian liked to ignore those eyes.

“In some Native American cultures songs belong to one person. Each song is created for a specific person. It is known as their song. When they hear it they know it belongs to them and only them. I’m going to write you a song Caleb…and when you hear it…it’ll be your song, and only your song. I won’t play it for anyone but you.” Julian spoke as he concentrated on his viola notebook. Caleb deserved his own song. Julian still couldn’t bring up Roger into the conversation and every time he tried his tongue ended up saying something different. When Julian’s hands heal he will play Caleb’s song and then Julian would go back to his world, and Caleb will continue to stay in Caleb’s world, because that is how the world must be.

Balanced.

[U n d r a w n]

C a l e b


Finding a new apartment was impossible. He had to get a newspaper and spent hours calling people up, asking questions, visiting apartments. When they finally found his new home, it was good. It was good to know this was his new home. A new place to be. He made sure to take most his drugs carefully bottled up in prescription bottles, none of the labels had his name on them. Over the years he found there were a ton of hidden pills laying around that he had forgotten about. He also washed and packed up all his clothing. Everything he had was his and he got to leave all be bad things behind for the next ******** up soul to deal with.

It only took two days for him to feel comfortable walking into a new building and going to his apartment and stepping inside to see a clean, proper living space. He liked it. A lot. Caleb was sitting on his new blue bed reading that book he got from the library. The Perks Of Being A Wallflower. It was hard to read. Caleb never realized how bad his eyesight was when he tried to read. The words were a little blurry, occasionally he'd have to squint his eyes and look stupid to figure out a word. It was hard reading when you had stopped reading anything but street signs for years. He stopped reading 7 years ago. His first book in 7 years. He lightly placed his hand down on the page and looked around for some type of bookmark he could use. He used a sock, and created himself a mental note to find a proper bookmark, or a piece of paper or something later. It was getting late and Caleb needed to leave to see Mr. Myers tonight. Mr. Myers was a 39-year-old man. He used Caleb for the fantasies. Quite frankly Mr. Myers was one of his least favorite. He constantly clawed, would bite, scratch. He'd always force Caleb to beg for it, and sometimes he'd want him to say weird things during like calling him daddy or something else equally weird. He looked at his arms, which were shown with his short sleeve shirt. Allen cut up his right arm last week, it was covered in scabs and scars. He'd been working extra hard to make sure he hid it from Julian.

He moved over to his closet and pulled out a sweatshirt, then slipped it over his head as he moved out of his bedroom. He moved to the kitchen and grabbed himself a cup of tap water, then took a few sips. "What time will you be back today?" He turned his head to see Julian, who was used to Caleb leaving and coming back a few hours later by now. "Um..." Caleb slipped out his cellphone and looked at the time. 9 o'clock. How long did Mr. Myers usually take? Anywhere from an hour or two. Sometimes a little longer. There was no telling what he would want to do with Caleb tonight. "I guess around 11, maybe 12." He said nodding his head. He finished off the glass of water and he moved over to hear Julian talking about how Native American cultures would write a song for only one person. The boy would really throw around some random facts and topics. Caleb never knew where they came from, but, to be honest he enjoyed all of it.

"You'll write me a song?" He asked. Caleb couldn't write songs. He couldn't play any instruments. What could he give in return? He couldn't write a song too. Unless he hummed it or something... No. No, that was not the same. He went back to thinking about the music store. He kept meaning to pick out a song for Julian. That was the closest he could get to what Julian was doing for him. "Thank you." He finally remembered to say. "I really should head out now... I can't really be late. I wouldn't want to piss off my boss." He said forcing a little laugh. Mr. Myers could get angry. Caleb still hated him so much. As much as he was regretting leaving - he had to. So, with those words he stopped back into his room and placed the book from the bed to the side table. He grabbed his cellphone and checked for messages. No new texts. No new calls. He sent a quick text to Allen: were am i supsed to meet him?? He asked.

His house. Was the response Caleb was given back. Caleb hated going to his house. There were pictures of his wife and wedding. He could see the xbox and game systems by the TV when he walked by and other kid toys laying around. Why would anyone want to cheat on a family like that? Caleb always came up with the theory that he loved his wife a lot. The only reason he used Caleb was because he loved his wife too much and didn't want to do the messed up things to her that he did with Caleb. It was what made Caleb feel better. He moved passed Julian lightly ruffling his hair. "Be good. I'll be home later. Bye." He said moving out of the apartment and making his way to Brian Myers's home.

[Cortisol]

V A L E N T I N E

Valentine received another letter from him.
He didn’t even want to be there. He went home to change when he found the letter. Always personally delivered by a stranger.

Just seeing it was from the state penitentiary sent Valentine into a violent panic attack. His flesh began to itch and burn. Valentine didn’t read the letter. Valentine never read the letters and instead kept them in a box under his bed. All one-hundred and fifty letters. He wrote one letter a month, every month for thirteen years. Just holding the letter and it felt like his skin was being seared. There were more lunchboxes out in the city. Valentine wasn’t the only one who had one. Andre wasn’t ******** retarded. He knew where the money was. Addicts sprung up like ******** weeds and Valentine became the weed grower. He was also the exterminator. They needed more territory. More territory meant more money. Valentine let it slip about the lunchboxes, and before Valentine knew it he had three lunchboxes. Wonder Woman. Superman. The Green Lantern. It was like having the Justice ******** League in his apartment. Valentine probably didn’t have a grasp on what irony meant…but the whole situation seemed pretty ******** ironic, probably.

The streets were already painted in the color of blood. Everything was becoming more like Lord of the Flies and less like Gilligan’s Island. Valentine didn’t want to be alone. When he was with them they wanted him to be the pusher and the exterminator. Andre was the driver and Valentine pulled the trigger. Everybody was either a pusher or a junkie baby... sometimes both…and that was dangerous. Valentine was losing his mind. His death day was coming up. A very merry death day. Valentine didn’t want to see Holden, and didn’t want to see Holden’s stupid ugly face, and didn’t want to hear Holden’s raspy stupid voice. Valentine was becoming less like himself and more like him.

But there was going to be a raid. Holden was in danger…was Holden dead already? Valentine was on day three of his bender. Bloodshot eyed and chewing on his thumbnail, or lack of thumbnail. When he found himself in front of Holden’s apartment door. Valentine didn’t know the time. He was just there and couldn’t explain. One minute Valentine was somewhere else and the next minute Valentine was outside Holden’s door. He could have just left. Holden could be out or something…Holden could even be dead. He was probably dead. Holden was dead. Valentine raised his arm and began knocking. STOP. What are you doing Valentine? He’s dead. Holden is dead. Move on.

When the door opened and as if on cue as if somebody yelled lights camera and action Valentine smiled his one hundred watt smile. Raised his hand and greeted them with a warm, “Hello. It’s chilly outside and it’s very windy. Looks like rain.” Weather? Valentine was talking about the ******** weather? Maybe another topic would seem normal, "Be a good neighbor and let me borrow a cup of sugar?"

He just wanted to be Valentine…even for a few minutes.

[U n d r a w n]

H o l d e n




"Yeah. Hurry up and just give me the money." He cleared his throat. Then shifted the gun to his other hand. "Give me the ******** money you owe me." He narrowed his eyes and stared back at himself in the mirror. He cleared his throat and tried once more. "If you don't hand over what you owe you don't wake up tomorrow." He sighed and placed the gun on the bathroom counter. He was exhausted. He never thought Jason did so much dealing. He made the mistake of allowing someone to buy off credit, and clearly he needed to correct what they owed him soon. He was just practicing and trying to decide what looked scariest. He took another sip of water and slipped two pills in his mouth. Swallow. He took the gun and brought it back to Jason's bedroom. He placed it in the dresser where he found it and dug through the closet searching for that weed. He pulled it out and brought it to the coffee table. He placed the jar down and took a seat on the couch. Holden began to measure up grams and shoved them in the tiny baggies, as he finished each one he threw them off to the side. He reached for another baggie and realized he was out after he started on his second ounce. "Ah crap." He put all the baggies in one jar, then topped it off and closed up the second one. He put them back in the closet and turned around. He could just hit the corner store and buy a pack of 1,ooo baggies for 12 bucks or so. After he put everything away he moved to the door and opened it up.

Freeze scene.

What? What the ******** was Valentine doing here? What the ******** did he want? Brown hair. Blood shot eyes. Out-of-it smile with a distant look on his face. Talking nonsense. Weather that wasn't there and cooking ingredients that Holden didn't have. The last time he saw Valentine was when they kissed, then Holden took a nap, woke up, took another handful of pills and woke up the next morning to nobody. Or maybe he took a handful of pills, then hallucinated the kiss. Holden had no idea what he had done. All he knew was he woke up in a pile of his spit, puke, and drool on his floor near the couch. Well, Jason woke him up. After they cleaned up the living room floor Holden threw up some more after staying in bed for a few days straight. That was when Jason went missing. He closed his fist. He reached out wrapping a hand around Valentine's shirt, then he ripped him into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. He brought his closed fist up to give the ******** a punch across the face. "You've got some ******** guts showing your face around here again!" He said as he shoved Valentine into the apartment some more. When Holden was angry, he kept a grudge. He didn't hold onto grudges lightly. Just ask his brother. He hated the ******** for over half his life now. He only hated him more and more as time went on. Now Holden had a bone to pick with this little piece of s**t.

He still needed to punch something. He turned to the wall and then with a blam there was a small imprint. Holden wanted to punch it again to break a hole through the wall but his fist began to throb and he got the urge to punch something out of his system. "You can't be around me! You stupid a*****e!" It's funny how quickly you can forget about stopping at the corner store to buy some baggies for your weed. He wanted to get the ones with the little skulls on them before he forgot all about them. "My boys are ******** angry as s**t! Do you know what your ******** little heroin s**t is doing to me?!" He asked. "And don't ******** pull your goddamn ********, 'I dunno anything about it. Some a*****e just gave me a lunchbox.' You ******** jipped me outta the loop and played me!" He pointed to the window, wanting to point to the outside world. Holden was pissed at Valentine. He wanted to blame him for all the drama that kicked up. Holden didn't used to have to walk around with a gun in his pocket to feel safe. There didn't used to be that immediate sense of urgency. There didn't used to be so many threats thrown around. It was really becoming every man for themselves lately. He gripped Valentine's shirt and shoved him against the couch. "You'd better start ******** talking or I'll rip out your eyeballs and shove them down your throat for you to choke on." Holden just wanted everything to make more sense to him. He couldn't make sense of anything lately. It was like that night he overdosed caused him to miss out on everything.

"And I mean it." Holden added. "I ******** mean it."

[Cortisol]

V A L E N T I N E

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Being punched in the face really hurt. The sensory neurons went ******** wild sending messages to the brain of the assault. Busted blood vessels and bruised bones. The feeling of throbbing pain erupted all over his face. In defense his fingers went up to cover up and protect his face. Valentine didn’t have time to think instead he just reacted. The door had already slammed shut and Valentine was being pushed around the apartment, so basically the decision was made up for him. Valentine moved his jaw up and down wanting to make sure it wasn't busted. He experienced a busted jaw before. They had to screw his mouth shut while it healed. Holden was beyond mad, but, that was the normal response. What was Valentine supposed to say? His mind went blank. Then he was slammed against the couch.

Valentine was too drunk…or maybe he was too sober for this conversation.

Valentine avoided Holden’s eyes. Looked to the side when the threats came. Then the flashbacks started. The memory of being on the other side of the glass in the hospital. When Holden was punching…his brother…and Valentine stood there and watched. Powerless. If Holden was capable of beating the s**t out of his own brother who was dying on a gurney than what chance did Valentine have? “It was an honest mistake…” Valentine said laughing nervously his jaw moved it didn’t take much to loosen Valentine’s jaw. “I wasn’t supposed to get the lunchbox…Oscar didn’t know I was Levett’s kid. It’s a really boring story. Roger said it’s a ring of CEO’s who are behind the lunchboxes…Oscar got killed because he gave me the lunchbox, and because he knew who they were…it doesn’t matter. Roger already knows.” By then Valentine was barely making any sense. That’s what happens when he leaves out the details. Ends up with a piece of Swiss cheese, and nobody like Swiss cheese.

Valentine stopped laughing, and smiling, and grew angry. Claustrophobic.
Are you just a replacement for his brother, Valentine? Are you just going to sit there while he hurts you some more?

“You think I ******** planned this?” Valentine said all suddenly as he grabbed fistfuls of Holden’s shirt. “ I didn’t put the lunchboxes out there, stupid!” But, Valentine did murder people. Valentine still pushed. Valentine still told people the meaning behind the lunchbox. Fueled the fires. His heart thumped. His blood ran hot through his veins. Panicking. It’s what happens when you corner a cat. He was Valentine. He was ******** Valentine, and nobody else. “I’m not your ******** brother! So don’t think I’ll sit still and let you hurt me! I came here to ******** warn you.” Valentine reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket knife, before thrusting his body up and slamming against Holden, pulling the blade to his neck. Pressing hard. One move and Holden's skin would slice.

“They’re planning on raiding…and killing your boys. Jason told them everything…told them where to find your boys…do you understand? Your ******** boys will be dead if you don't get them out of there!” Valentine knew because Valentine was there. It didn’t take long for Valentine to connect the dots from Jason to Holden. Was that why Valentine was here? Like a peak there was always the slope of coming down. Valentine plummeted ******** hard. Valentine threw the knife to the floor and fell back onto the couch, exhausted. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. “This is just too exhausting. Aren't you tired? Can we just pause…just pause everything for a little while…and just have fun? Pretend like none of this s**t happened? Let’s play COD or something.” Valentine didn’t come here to fight or argue and especially not to tell his secrets. He just wanted to play…probably.

[U n d r a w n]

H o l d e n




His eyes narrowed as Valentine began speaking. Holden couldn't exactly make sense of most of it. "Who the ******** is Levett?!" He said talking over Valentine. He went on talking about how it was boring and some s**t. "Some CEOs?!" Seriously, what the ******** was that meant to mean!? A bunch of ******** fat-a** CEOs who owned their own businesses were sitting around using them as ******** rats to distribute their s**t!? He didn't like when people saw him as some useless street rat. Most people int he ******** world would look down on them like they weren't even human. ******** that. Holden would take them all down. Every one of the ******** bastards. As he shouted out more bullshit from anger Valentine reached out grabbed his collar, then asked if he thought it was his fault. "YES!" He screamed. Holden could hear himself huff with anger when all of a sudden a knife was being pulled on his neck and he felt the cold blade against his neck. "DON'T BRING THAT ******** PIECE OF s**t UP EVER AGAIN! WHEN THE ******** DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO EVEN ******** MENTION HIM!? HE'S NOT MY ******** BROTHER." Holden yelped as he gripped onto Valentine's hand struggling to keep the knife loose on his neck so he wouldn't be sliced up. he didn't want to die today. No thank you. ******** that.

Holden got silent when Valentine brought up Jason telling them where the gang's Safe House was. Jason wouldn't do that. What the ******** was Jason getting out of this? No. Valentine was just saying that to piss him off. Who the ******** would even show up to that neighborhood? They'd start a full out street-war if anyone tried to attack that ******** house. Who was stupid enough to do that? Where was Holden supposed to pick up from if they killed everyone there? What the ******** was he meant to do then? Valentine dropped the knife and fell back on the couch talking about how tired he was. Tired? Valentine didn't know the meaning of tired yet.

"Yeah, sure." Holden said very quietly. He moved over to the kitchen and rested his hands on the back of the chair. "Lets just play some COD." He gripped the chair tight and then flung it to the side, it cracked the wall as it bashed against it. "c**k OVER DOSE ******** b***h!" Holden screamed trying to match up the C.O.D acronym with something. It didn't work too well when he was that outraged. He picked up the chair again bashing it against the wall again, this time it broke. "SOME ******** FUN." He yelled as he grabbed cups from the cabinet and chucked them against the wall. He stormed into Jason's room screaming, [******** FANTASTIC! MY LIFE IS PERFECT! I ******** LOVE EVERYONE. I LOVE THE WORLD." He ripped the dresser open, the compartment squeaking as it was pulled out so quickly and then he reached for the gun grabbing it quickly. BANG.

He shot himself.

He cringed as he looked down to see where the bullet went in. No blood. He looked to see the gun was pointing in the wrong direction when he stumbled for it and the bullet simply went into the wall. [******** BROKEN GUN." Because, obviously that was the guns fault for going off. He took it and chucked it to the other side of the room. "YOU CAN ******** SUCK MY c**k PIECE OF s**t!" He kicked the wall. [******** b***h I SHOULD HAVE ******** YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE. UGLY ******** DUCKED FACED b***h YOU HAD! ******** ******** ******** ********] He screeched as he continued moving through Jason's room.

Crash. Bash. Boom. Bang. Shatter.

Holden moved around his apartment tearing everything to shreds. It only took about ten minutes to trash the place. To take out all the anger he could. He stumbled back towards the couch and landed next to Valentine dropping his head back. He closed his eyes and could feel his shoulders shaking up and down as if he were crying. His face was expressionless, though. "I don't wanna do this anymore." Holden said as he kept his eyes glued shut tight. He didn't want to look around and see the mess now that he was calmed down. He didn't want to look at Valentine's face because he felt like he was going to beat it inwards even though he could hardly imagine throwing another punch. "Who the ******** are you? Who the ******** are you Valentine?"