Fiction No 3.

I have known X for almost the entire of my life. A weird, strange kid. Always push your boundary, never cross it. Honest with the love they give, careless with the way they talk, whisper into your ears "Peach Cobbler" and "Bukkake" just to see you smile.

Sometimes you hate X and sometimes you like X, and sometimes you wish X could be...different. We don't share many things in common. But there's one - X always stays longer than they should have. Just like me with that lousy Jazz club I went to last summer in Toronto. I should have left 30 mins in and roamed the street or do whatever, but I stayed for the whole night cause I was hoping the jam gonna turn out good. X is even worse. X knows exactly how it would end, but X lets it happen anyway. Hell, they even get excited about it. Not in the sense that X risks doing something worthy, and learns important lessons. No. X always knows the ending.

X likes to making excuses for other people's shitty behaviors, but deep down they know what they see is what they get. I don't think X has too much grace and generosity, but rather they don't want to be alone. They accept any parcel of affection, like a dog licking pieces of bones thrown at its way.

When the Valley and the Hills went blue, we sped up to the 405. X needed to find the locker somewhere in Silver Lake. While exiting Glendale, I asked them what locker. " The one with the pills", they answered while steering into Sunset. What pills? "You know what pills." X was shooting up that summer when they picked me up from LAX.

Back in their apartment, X poured Boulder and soda into a glass and mixed them with crushed ice and mint leaves. They then proceeded to get me some shitty Carl Jung Cuveé. I turned on the TV, just to hide the painfully awkward silence. Some After Dark Cinemas with brightly-lit background popped up and hurt my eyes. I knew X is a junkie, and they live on Adderall and wine, but since when are they into cheap pornos?

"I couldn't sleep, man" X said. Seemed like their sleeping disorder were getting out of control. The last time I saw it, X couldn't stay awake for more than 3 hours in the daylight. I spotted a brand new Yankee baseball cap sitting on the table - which was strange. X hated all kinds of hats. "They make me look like a steamed bun."

Who gave it to you? "My friend, Xmas gift." You guys must be real close then, this hat is cool. "I don't know, I feel bad." Why?

Because the girl was in bad luck. She got her eyes on someone that wasn't capable of loving her the way she wanted to. "I wish it could be different. Then both of us could be happy together. Pining for someone like that is a real, fucking shitty feeling, you know?"

I said I know. I said it's not X's fault. "I hate putting people in that position. I don't deserve that, they should save it for someone else worthy." X glanced at me longer than I'd like to admit.

I said it's not true. "You know it's true. Girls want to fool around with me, but no one wants to be around me."

I remember when we were younger, some time way back then, I always let X drink straight from my water bottle. When I came home, I would take it out and stare at the spot where X's lip touched. Slowly, I would drink from that exact same spot. I did it with my eyes closed and my fingers caressed the stainless steel. I prayed for the taste of their lips wouldn't fade away too fast, I searched for any remnant of their tongue. I wanted to be close to X. I know X didn't want me the way I wanted them.

I asked for a cigarette and a lighter cause I didn't know what to say. We were up all night watching the porno and talking about driving up to Malibu before the day was over. I had a feeling that we fucked up some where long times ago, way before we were an embryo in the Mother's womb. Does it bother me? Not really, cause people are the way they are, and nothing's gonna change it.