by Abigail Cole
“Wanna bet?” I say, leaving before he can answer and walking back to the house feeling marginally better. I don’t plan on ever jumping into any of their beds, but now I have ammunition to wind Wyatt up and I’m going to take full advantage of it.
Axel
“Axel honey, come on in. Don’t be shy,” my mother giggles into the microphone. I step into the room, picking at my bottom lip. She is incredibly pretty, dressed in a black dress with a matching feather in her dark hair. Pearls surround her neck and hang from her ears. “Ahh, there you are.” Her red lips smile over a champagne glass at me. Holding out her hand, I walk through the sea of women who gush and paw at me as I pass.
An elevated stage has been fitted at the front of our ballroom for tonight, as it is every first Friday of the month. I shift my neck uncomfortably in the tight collar of my white shirt and navy tie mother insisted I wore tonight. I’m bulkier than the average teenager, having been forced into a vigorous exercise routine and strict diet. Navy slacks cover my legs and my brown dress shoes are freshly polished. Mother likes me to look older than my age of fourteen.
Stepping up onto the podium, mother embraces me in a tight hug that is only for show. She smooths her hand over my hair, pushing it over to the side the way she likes. Her pale brown eyes twinkle as they assess me, before turning me to face the crowd. This is one of the rare times I see her face lit with happiness.
“Okay ladies, take a good look and get those purses ready. We will start the auction at one thousand dollars.” I try not to squirm under the intense lighting and cat calls of Georgia’s thirstiest rich women. Like my mother, most of the women here are widowed. But I don’t think they are in such financial strain as us, which is exactly why mother forces me to ‘be the man of the house and earn my keep’. My eyes prick but I clench my jaw to fight back the tears, knowing any weakness would earn me a swift slap and the auction would continue regardless.
“Five thousand dollars!” A gloved hand shoots into the air, the plump woman who owns it licking her lips at me hungrily.
“Ten!”
“Fifteen!” The lights are burning my retinas, my head beginning to spin. I fight against myself to keep my breathing even, focusing on inhaling through my nose for three seconds and exhaling via my mouth for five. Shouts and whistles for my attention fill my ears, my mother’s voice through the speakers saying the word I dread to hear each night in my nightmares.
“Sold!” Mother whirls around to kiss me on the cheek, her hands lingering a little too low on my back. “Can you believe it honey? Sixty thousand dollars! I can get that new Porsche after all.” I try to join in her joy, wanting to be happy I’m able to provide her with the luxuries in life that father used to. But first, I have a night of misery to get through.
A woman hops onto the stage in tall red heels. She’s fairly attractive, her wavy hair falling onto her shoulders and an extremely tight red dress pushing her chest up. Her long fingers stroke my arm through the shirt, a shiver running through me. I crave affection, but not like this.
“Why don’t you go wait in your room honey? We will wrap things up down here.” I step out of the woman’s touch and half sprint from the room and up the staircase. Passing my room, I rush onwards to my father’s old study. Even before cancer stole him from us last year, their marriage wasn’t necessarily a happy one and he spent most of his time in here. Throwing the door shut behind me with a pained scream, I move into the bathroom and splash water onto my burning face.
My hair falls forward, which I automatically smooth back before catching sight of myself in the mirror. Rubbing the soft strands between my fingers, I stare at myself. Mother loves my hair; always running her hands through it and saying it’s the best part of her that I inherited. A few months ago, a new hairdresser at the salon we visit had cropped my sides shorter than usual and my mother had her fired for it.
A stupid idea springs to life inside my mind. Opening the cupboard beneath the sink, I find a pair of clippers on one of the dusty shelves. Wiping it clean on a cream hand towel, I look back into the mirror. My hand is shaking slightly as I lift the clippers and flick the switch with my thumb. The powerful vibrations that meet my hand shock me and almost cause me to drop it.
My mother’s voice calls my name through the hallways making my breath catch, and I glide the clippers straight down the middle of my head.
Waking in a panicked sweat, I quickly run my hand over my scalp, relaxing to find it is shaved short. The echoes of my mother’s screams when she had found the sink full of my brown locks ring inside my mind, soothing me. That scene from my life replays in my dreams at least once most nights.
“It’s Friyay!” Huxley shouts from somewhere beyond my window, pulling my mouth up in a smile. As long as I have my boys with me, I can overcome anything. Rising from the bed, a glance at my phone tells me it’s almost 3pm. I really need to start setting an alarm if I’m going to have my psychology final ready to submit next week. I jump into the shower and dress in a white tee with blue jeans before heading out to find the others.
Stepping barefoot into the warm sunshine on the stoned patio, Garrett chucks me a beer that I catch at the last second. I move to join him on the wicker bench, eyeing the plate piled high with fried chicken wings on the table in front of him.
“I haven’t even had breakfast,” I mumble, using my teeth to open the bottle with a hiss. Garrett offers me the half-eaten chicken wing in his greasy fingers. I shake my head, taking a long swig of my beer and shifting to push my thigh against him.
All of us are close, but I wonder if the guys know of the impact their presence has had on my mental state. I joined Waversea as an angry teen who spoke with his fists until I was welcomed into The Shadowed Souls. But it wasn’t until I came out to them as bisexual last year that I truly felt like one of them, their acceptance being what I needed to start to rebuild myself into someone I might actually like one day.
Huxley appears out of nowhere to dive into the pool with minimal splash, followed by Dax who dive-bombs in behind him. The water sprays across us, soaking my t-shirt, much to their amusement. Garrett doesn’t even pause his bone gnawing, grabbing another chlorine covered wing from the pile and shoving it into his mouth.
Realising one of us is missing, I look around in search of Wyatt, who I find sprawled on the sun lounger and fast asleep. I decide it’s about time the guy had a little fun. Nudging Garrett, I gesture to sleeping beauty and pull him up. He only groans a little at leaving his food, soon realising my intention.
Creeping over, we brace our hands under the lounger. I mouth 3, 2, 1 to Garrett on the other side before we lift the recliner and run towards the pool. Throwing the whole thing into the water with Wyatt still on top, he sinks into the water with a gurgled shout. Breaching the surface, Wyatt swears and splashes at Huxley, who is trying to dunk him back under. Following Garrett’s lead, I strip down to my boxers and jump in to join the play fight.
Dax jumps onto my back straight away, his sopping curly hair smacking me in the face like a mop. I grip his legs around my waist and sink below the water, knowing I can hold my breath far longer than he can. Using his weight to draw us closer to the bottom of the pool, Dax taps out on my shoulder and I release him. Staying hidden, I swim towards Wyatt’s kicking feet. Grabbing tightly, I yank him down before surfacing with a laugh.
“Chicken fight!” Garrett announces from the shallow end of the pool, pulling Huxley onto his shoulders. Dax jumps onto Wyatt’s shoulders, leaving me as referee. Swimming to the edge, I pull myself up and perch on the edge. After counting them down, Huxley and Dax start to wrestle. Their biceps flex and abs tense, rapidly making me rather happy with my referee status. Wyatt is laughing loudly which is music to my ears after this past week of his mood swings. One of my worst traits is that I feel everyone else’s misery as if it were my own.
Dax and Hux shove at each other’s shoulders, throwing the odd punch and I even see Dax try to tickle his opponent. How am I supposed to
referee a game that has no rules? I smile to myself, glad the five of us found each other. I’d hate to think of a life where even one of us had taken a different path. From my angle above, I notice Garrett is trying to sweep Wyatt’s feet out from under the water. Noticing a bowl of popcorn by where the lounger was, I dash to retrieve it and sit back in place before they even notice. Flicking clusters of popcorn at the fighters, Garrett whines about wasting food and opens his mouth to give me a better target.
A glint of blonde in the sunlight drags my gaze to Avery, leaning on her balcony to also watch the show. Standing in a yellow summer dress with a shawl held tightly around her shoulders, her hair flows around her like an angelic glow and her eyes focus on me briefly. I don’t know whether to be pissed or elated Huxley interrupted our kiss yesterday but do know that I’ve never felt such a strong impulsive to have someone before. The pain that lingers behind her vision calls to me. I want to hold her, stroke her hair and tell her everything is going to be okay. I need to banish the darkness for her briefly, allowing her to drown in the pleasure I could provide for a while.
“Foul!” Garrett shouts. The four men turn to me at once, asking who won the point in their made-up game. I look between their impatient expressions before accidently glancing back to Avery’s now empty balcony. Wyatt follows my gaze, throwing Dax from his shoulders with a huff and storming out of the pool in his soaking wet sweatpants towards his recently converted mini-home. The others swim over to pull themselves up beside me while I hang my head. I hate hurting one of these lot, knowing our parents have done enough of that to last a lifetime.
“Maybe I should have left you to fuck her yesterday, she’d be out of your system by now.” Huxley chuckles.
“When was this? I thought you always shared with me,” Garrett says, seeming hurt. I was sure our threesome agreement was only beneficial to me, since he goes home with women on his own all the time.
“It was nothing,” I lie. “I just got caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again so please don’t tell Wyatt.” The three shared a concerned look, knowing we don’t keep secrets. But I can’t have the reason he hated visiting his own house become between us as well.
“This once,” Dax agrees. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I watch Wyatt pass in fresh clothing and head inside the main house without a word.
“We need to get him out of here for a bit. It’s Friday, we should be at a party with hot girls and cold beer.” Garrett says. I nod, deciding the best way to rid Avery from my mind would be to bed someone else.
“What about a club?” Huxley suggests with a smirk. Placing down the bowl of popcorn I’m still clutching beside me, we all stand together. Dax pulls me in for a hug which Huxley joins and Garrett places a kiss on my head. Who’d have thought the most damaged one of us all could feel so much love, aimed directly at the four men who saved me from myself.
Wyatt
Stepping into Sinergy, my last name gaining us a fast pass and an overlook on the ID, I stride towards the to the VIP section. Eager females reach out to stroke my arms and chest as I pass the bar that stretches along the left wall. To my right, a huge dancefloor sits beneath a DJ booth. Half-naked men and women dance in individual cages that hang from the ceiling overhead. A large, bald bouncer dressed all in black withdraws a red rope as we approach to permit our access up the stairs. Emerging onto the overhanging balcony, we are guided to the booth I reserved last minute.
I slide around the purple cushion until I’m back and centre, giving me the perfect view of a sexy woman in one of the cages. Swaying in metallic blue heels that match a latex suit in the same colour, the dancer’s costume leaves little to the imagination with her nipples pushing against the fabric. Winking in my direction, she spins to reveal her exposed ass and thin G-string. Hux excitedly pats my right shoulder through my pastel blue shirt as he shimmies in beside me. Axel moves in from the other side, with Dax right behind him.
“Where’s Garrett?” I ask, sure he can’t be hungry so soon after we stopped at the KFC drive-thru on the way here. Hux points to the dancefloor below where I can see a group of women on the far side huddling together, no doubt with Gare at the centre. Avery and Meg are the last to slide into the booth, favouring Dax’s side even though it is more cramped.
“I still don’t see why we had to bring them,” Axel moans in my ear. They all argued with me about it back at the house, saying we should have a boy’s night. But I’m not risking my inheritance for one night out and she probably would have run straight to a party filled with drunk guys that would have taken advantage of her. I’m not sure why that should bother me, but I’m going to drink until it no longer does. Besides, I’ve set my sights on her sidekick tonight, looking to drive a wedge between Avery and her happiness the way she did to me.
The waitress that showed us to the booth reappears asking for our drink orders. Her ass is barely covered in a little maid’s style outfit. Sinergy is known for its play on the seven deadly sins, the main one being ‘Lust’ which means each member of staff wears a different popular sex outfit. Above the club is a casino to provide the ‘Greed’ and I’ve heard there’s an underground level where cage fighters beat the shit out of each other for fun to form ‘Wrath’. Ordering a whole bottle of Jack Daniels to myself, I settle back until she has stepped out of my view of the cage dancer. Axel is twirling Dax’s hair in his fingers absent-mindedly while the girls chat amongst themselves.
Avery has gone for a punk-rock look tonight, a plunging black long-sleeved top reaching her knuckles with thumb holes cut out. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, black eyeliner on her eyes matching a lacey choker around her neck. Meg is also in black; her backcombed hair and plum coloured lips are enticing me already. Her figure-hugging dress with a corset style back would look more fitting on my bedroom floor.
They giggle and whisper into each other’s ears, twisting fingers through the others hair. Their closeness angers me, which is the main reason behind Project Fuck-The-Friend. After our drinks are delivered, the girls down their glasses of white wine in one and leave for the dance floor downstairs. I watch both of their asses sway as they leave, unable to help myself. Luckily, Garrett choses that moment to join us with an entourage of women that are too old for us and they know it.
“I’m going to guard the girls,” Axel announces, clambering over Dax to get out and dart off into the crowd. Shrugging, I pour myself another whiskey and knock it back before beckoning the semi-hot red head over. She makes a show of crawling over Dax, her sequin-covered ass hovering near his face before she settles in beside me. We all exchange clearly fake names around the table, mine being Dick Fitswell. The red head, Ivanna B. Spanked, calls our waitress over and orders a tray of shots.
She tries to draw me into conversation, but I can’t stop my eyes from returning to the dancefloor below. Scanning the swarm of rubbing bodies, I start to worry the girls have made a run for it when I spot them smack bang in the middle. Avery’s golden ponytail catches the light as it sways, her arms wrapped around Meg as they bump against each other intimately. Anyone else watching would assume they were lovers, but I understand how those who missed out on nurturing growing up ache for that type of physical bond – like Axel does. Fuck damn it, am I actually relating to Avery? I’d better keep drinking.
The saucy maid returns with a tray of small glasses and a bottle of tequila, pouring a healthy measure in each before sliding the tray towards me. I pass two glasses to Seymour Butts on my right, one for his accomplice Nida Horgasm, who is currently massaging his scalp of shaggy blonde hair. Pushing the tray to Justin Theass, whose female also seems fixated on his afro, I smirk over the table into the amber eyes of Homer Sexual. His date doesn’t seem put off by his choice of name in the slightest, judging by the way she’s stroking him through his jeans.
“To living the life,” Anita Cox toasts, raising her hand from Homer’s crotch long enough to clink glasses with everyone. Downing the shot that tastes like spiced shit, I immediately refi
ll our glasses and repeat the process until the bottle in empty.
“Oh, I love this song! Come dance with me,” Ivanna begs. A glance down to the girls below, a shirtless guy with smooth chocolate skin is grinding against Avery’s ass even though she is more invested in her dance with Meg. Gritting my teeth at her enjoyment, I shove the other’s out of their seats. Taking my bottle of Jack Daniels with me, I drag the desperate woman to the left side of the VIP lounge which provides its own private dance floor. Ivanna starts to grind against my cock through the layers of her sequin dress and my navy chinos. Glancing past her obnoxiously bright red hair, I focus on cage girl instead. Her hips sway as she stares directly at me, biting her lip and rubbing her nipples through the latex.
“You like that, huh?” The middle-aged woman giggles. If I weren’t in a bad place between mourning my mom and craving my sister, this situation would be laughable. Bringing the bottle of whiskey to my mouth, I wink at cage girl before drinking my sorrows down. A sensually slow song filters through the speaker in the corner, which gives the cougar the impression she can turn to shove her tongue into my mouth. Pushing her puckered lips away with my flat palm, I back away trying to rub the lipstick on my hand away with my thigh.
Returning to the table after pawning Ivanna onto some helpless rich guy who was sweating profusely, I see Hux is missing, his seat taken up by a brooding Axel. Gare has arm swung around Axel’s shoulders, trying to cheer him up by nuzzling his neck. Sometimes living with him is like walking on eggshells, he has more triggers than any of us are aware of. Avery and Meg have returned, though they have chosen to sit at a table for two adjacent to the booth.
“What happened to your lady-friend?” I ask, slipping in beside Dax who is staring into his empty glass.
“Hux took her,” he answers grumpily. I sigh at the sorry sight of us all. Back at college, we are fricking Kings. Our house hosts the best parties and we are always surrounded by the hottest girls. Our basketball team has a whole section in the reception, dedicated to housing our many trophies and plaques. Glancing over at a laughing Avery, my jaw clenches and an annoying twitch starts to beat beneath my left eye. If she didn’t exist, I wouldn’t need to stay in Atlanta. I’m close to saying fuck the money than rather stay a second longer. So why am I still in sitting here?
