Opening

The world swam in a haze of alcohol. Disjointed images fell on top of one another. Friends laughing. Copious amounts of empty bottles. An overcrowded bar. And a lean body moving away from a heavy head which lay upon a dirty table.

A sigh emerged when gentle fingers brushed over short hair, calming those darkened images. Smoky eyes looked up from familiar bedsheets. Arms decorated in tattoos wrapped tightly around the plush pillow.

“Who are you?” He murmured, an eye peeking out from the pillow.

Soft words and amused eyes landed upon him, “I’m not important.”

He touched a hand whose thumb gently caressed the back of his wrist. He stared, lost within a moment he couldn’t remember. Those eyes made him want to disagree. So, he rolled over which allowed him to grab a hold of a body he liked. Smiling, he pulled that body close to his.

“Oh, come on Ty!” There was a note of resignation in the sigh, “you would be a grabby drunk.”

Brothers

The image staring back at him was critiqued. Every hair had to be in place. No wrinkles would be allowed in his outfit. Thick brows must be tamed. This wasn’t vanity or insecurity. It was habit. And perhaps a little about control. Looking at his reflection, he was satisfied.

Eyes identical to his own moved up next to him. His brother was in contrast to him. Casual, torn jeans that fit a little loose with an unremarkable t-shirt.

“I can’t believe we’re twins,” Geo muttered.

“Identical,” Court noted with glee! “Why are you so uptight about how you look. No one cares about you.”

He took a swipe at his brother’s head but missed. Court ducked out of the bathroom. It wouldn’t save him! Racing through the house like they had when they were kids, it brought laughter to them both. Only, as always, Geo kept it inside while Court’s boisterous laughter rang through the hallways as they raced to the kitchen where the scents of breakfast beckoned them.

The warmth of the kitchen was more than just temperature. Sunlight poured in through large windows surrounding the nook where breakfast waited for them. Coffee brewing pulled Geo to a stop. More important than beating his brother, was coffee. His mug waited on the counter next to the pot.

Court had run to the table nestled within the nook, right into their mother’s waiting arms. Laughter that was somewhere between Court and himself, filled the room. She held her baby just like she always had. Geo watched them, the pot of coffee untouched for a moment. He couldn’t completely conceal the sorrow filling his heart.

“I love having my boys home,” she was hugging Court tight.

Geo went back to pouring his coffee, “we wouldn’t miss the first breakfast of the school year.”

“We’ve done that since you were in kindergarten.” Her smile began to fade, “but you’re in university now. We should probably start thinking of stopping our tradition.”

Court buried his head deeper into their mom’s chest. As Geo walked over, he kissed the top of her head, “we’re always going to have breakfast together.”

Just like their mom held Court’s head to her chest, Geo held their mom’s head to his. He held his brother’s shoulder.

Discretely, she brushed away a tear. Around a sniffle, she urged them, “our breakfast is going to get cold. Come on boys.”

They claimed the same seats they’d grown up in. Food was passed about. Geo poured his mom’s tea while bugging his brother. The familiarity of the morning wasn’t something he’d ever grow tired of.

Friends

Feet kicked out and back pressed against the wall, it wasn’t possible to be more relaxed. A stylish guy with model looks was idly scrolling on his phone, “you’ve got to see the uni’s gossip page.”

“Don’t care,” furrowed brows looked down upon a map contained within a pamphlet. In contrast to his friend, he was sitting upright with tense shoulders hunched forward.

“They’re almost exclusively focused on one guy,” a finger scrolled through the posts.

“You’re first conquest,” was the uninterested remark.

It got a laugh, “he’s hot, but not my type. Sounds like a fighter with a bad attitude.”

A noncommittal grunt.

The phone was put down, “can’t believe you’re using a map to figure out how to get around the university. You know they have an updated version online?”

“Would need a cell for that,” was the muttered reply as the map was turned about unsuccessfully. Soft, curly brown hair touched artful brows enhancing an annoyed expression. Sculpted lips held a slight pout as he concentrated.

“How do you survive?”

“Peyton,” the sigh hinted at annoyance, “stop asking that.”

The subtle threat was laughed off as Peyton got up, “no one’s updated those maps in years. Here, look.”

The online version of the map was shown. It was a far better map than what was on paper. The phone was taken and set down on the bed. From an old, worn bag a battered black case emerged. When opened, it revealed a selection of standard art supplies. The paper map was laid out. Marks on the page began to update what no one else had thought worthwhile.

“Dude, we got orientation soon,” but the comment didn’t sound concerned.

There was a shrug of indifference.

“Pretty decent,” was the compliment that came from watching his work. “Thinking of specializing your art?”

A slow shake of the head was the only response. It hadn’t been a reply. Satisfied with his efforts, the phone was handed back by a hand covered with a black cloth wrap concealing everything from the knuckles to mid forearm. The map would probably suffice to get him around campus.

“I’m headed the same direction as you.”

He was cut off quickly but without emotion, “you’re a music major. I’m an art major. We got different classes.”

“I should be here on a sports scholarship,” Peyton’s sigh held a note of a whine to it.

There was a cruel smirk emerging, “except that there are no scholarships for extreme sports. And even if there were, you didn’t go to high school so there’d be no way to get the attention of a scout.”

“No legal way,” Peyton amended with a cocky grin.

A faded plaid jacket moved over lean shoulders clad in an old black t-shirt.

“Orientation’s for all freshies,” Peyton moved to follow.

A hard glare was sent backwards, “I’m not looking for a frat. I’m not looking for friends. It’s not my problem if you’re dumb enough to want them. My job ended when I got you here.”

Peyton watched the door close. With an amused shake of his head, he followed, “lucky for you, my job isn’t over.”

Family

Stately, clean-cut, dignified, proper; these are the words used to describe Tanner. Glistening blonde hair swept back exposed a handsome face. A warm smile pulled everyone in as though he were smiling at only them. He’d learned early on in life to capitalize on this ability, and it was serving him well on the production.

“It’s a big project, you’re totally right. Do you guys want to break it out into groups? Props and wardrobe, sound and editing, acting; that kind of stuff? That way maybe we get our feet under us before we tackle any filming. Lighten the load so that no one person becomes overwhelmed,” he coaxed the others into his original suggestion.

“Except for you, Tanner,” was the laughed comment. But it wasn’t a joke. Their agreement to his suggestion finally came, “I think groups would be best.”

“Totally.”

“Thanks Tanner,” there were several relieved smiles.

“It’s no problem,” he waved off their gratitude. “I’ll do my best to oversee everything.”

“Just work at getting the approvals from the Student Council.”

“Oh, but don’t forget that we’ll need to find artists for the show. Since that’s your faculty, can you take care of that, Tanner?”

“We still need a lead actor! That has to come first.”

He held up his hands, “one step at a time. Let people get registered and through Hell Week first. We can scout the talent during that time.”

“Yah, okay,” they seemed reluctant, yet also relieved.

He leaned back on his arms. The breeze which helped cool them down, pulled delightfully with the long hair of a campus beauty. Delicate fingers pulled the hair behind her ear allowing her to make eye contact. She waved.

“Of course, pretty boy here has the attention of the hottest girl on campus,” the joking had an edge of envy.

Tanner shrugged it off with a grin, “I promise you she’s here because of another guy.”

“Ty?” The correct assumption was made.

“Who else?” Tanner laughed. He waved goodbye to the Drama club members.

From her purse, Jaz was retrieving her cell.

He sat down next to her, “what did he do this time?”

“I’m guessing that you haven’t seen the video going around right now,” she was on her phone.

“School hasn’t even officially started. Doesn’t that gossip site take a break?”

“They’re dedicated to Ty’s every movement,” she pointed out.

“As are you,” he teased.

“I’m keeping my eye on him for his protection,” she turned over the phone to Tanner.

“He’s lucky to have you,” he wasn’t joking with that comment.

Her smile was touched with worry, “luckier to have you.”

Then, in silence she let him watch the video even though there wasn’t much for audio. There was no expression as Tanner watched. The bar scene was hopping! Court stumbled onto the scene looking to cause a fight he was too drunk to win. To the left, Geo was mocking his brother as Ty’s heavy head hit the table painfully.

As the video played, she said, “I’m getting worried. What does this mean?”

“You always worry about him. But this could have nothing to do with Ty,” Tanner pointed out softly.

“Or it’s a targeted attack. You know his family’s history,” worry darkened her eyes. “Some comments are saying that this was about Ty.”

“I’m not really interested in what the comments have to say. I’m more interested in the guy taking Ty’s drink.”

“Do you know him? Because it doesn’t look like anyone does.”

“Who knows,” he shrugged, watching the video avidly. The position of the camera kept the stranger’s face hidden. What they could easily see was Ty’s beer in the left hand while the right was taking someone down with an impressive hook.

“Why’d he do that?” Tanner’s eyes narrowed.

In the video the guy was now kneeling before his prone target. The bottle was set with purpose between them. Fearful eyes showed that the guy on the floor had no interest in being near it. Bouncers interceded. But rather than remove both parties, they only questioned the guy with the great hook. A few curt words and they were done. The guy with the bruised chin, along with the bottle, was removed. The camera followed for a moment till they disappeared towards the back of the bar and could no longer be seen. When the camera moved, it showed someone passing a plaid jacket to the guy who’d taken away Ty’s beer. That jacket was used to help keep his face hidden as he donned it while leaving.

“There’s no good shots of his face,” Jaz pointed out.

Tanner handed back the phone, “send me the video.”

“Why?”

Tanner stood up, “I’m going to do some digging. It’s why you brought this to me, right?”

She nodded.

“Don’t worry so much,” he laughed. “He’s luckiest to have you.”

She finally let her smile hold a hint of relief.

Home

Silence greeted Ty as he woke from a troubled sleep. As he sat up a hand ran through his hair. The smell he expected didn’t hit him. Heavy lids rose to form a scowl. The towel under his naked body said that he’d had a shower that he didn’t remember. What was it that he did remember?

Ignoring the questions he couldn’t answer, he pushed up out of the bed. When he picked up his clothes from last night, the smell of the bar that he’d expected on himself was there in the clothing. They hit the laundry basket on his way to the bathroom. He glanced at his watch. It was still early, which he wasn’t sad about.

Once dressed, he headed down the stairs. The house was too quiet. But Geo and Court had gone to visit their mom, leaving only Ty in the house. He hated eating meals alone. He hated a quiet house. Despite knowing better, the feelings that a quiet house brought up wouldn’t be reasoned with. He massaged the fist he was making. Then he pulled on his hoodie, ignoring the grumblings of his stomach. Earphones went in and the volume was turned up. The door clicked softly shut. The lock slid in place. His phone found a home in his back pocket, then the zipper moved up on his hoodie before he took off on a run.

by: Selina Elliot