ChapterTwentyThree:Drunk on Fear

Friday, March 31, 2006

Lips so juicy yet slightly rough. Tongues moving in each other's mouth. A bare male torso pressing onto him. He didn't fight it. No, he embraced it, wanting more of the guy's body; wanting to pull the jeans off the man making him go hard.

The alarm clock said otherwise, including the wet bedsheets.

Alex covered his eyes with his arm. He didn't want to be greeted with the lights blaring in the room. He didn't want to go get his bedding washed. He was not about to face any questions from anybody.

It was a day off for Connect8, but they were invited to attend UTurn's taping of their TV gig before they head off to a performance in France. He heard UTurn was gaining traction pretty quickly in several European countries. He just hoped the American weren't too overworked, but they seemed to be taking it well.

His mind went toward the dream he had. He noticed he had been getting them more frequently lately. He couldn't make out who he was making out with. He never got to see their face; but could feel their body was that of a young man. Somewhere between eighteen and twenty-something.

Alex sat up in his bed, noticing Mason walking out the room. Another day, another Connect8 thing to do. Another day of feeling trapped inside his head.

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Alex met up with the UTurn members after their performance. He grinned as Amanda hugged him. She asked, "Like our performance?"

He replied, "Of course, Mandy."

She said as she pulled away, "I wish you could come with us to Germany next week. I'm sure you'll love our TV gigs for our other song."

"There is YouTube."

"True, but it's not the same."

"I think we should hold a party," Justin said.

Alex was surprised by that suggestion. Connect8 never hosted parties. Sure, there were times they wanted to, just like the celebrities that were ten years older than them. Well, they were all pushing towards their twenties now, including UTurn, so why not?

Justin continued, "I mean, we're going on tour soon. Why don't we throw a party to celebrate the tour?"

Alyson asked, "So just like that Connect7 song?"

Alex mentally rolled his eyes at that. By now, everyone knew Alyson was probably the biggest fangirl of anything Connect related. It was cute, but it was, at times, a little too much. It was any wonder why she was beginning to get along well with Sarah.

Justin replied, "Yeah, something like that."

Amanda looked at Alex. He shrugged, "Our place is a bit small, but why not?"

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Music blasted throughout the house. It was like every British teen party being posted on MySpace. The booze, the weird mixture of weed, cigarettes, and vaping, and food all over the place. Crowds of people partying and getting either drunk or high.

To Alex, the senses of it all was overwhelming. Sure, he had been to clubs, but not actual parties. The twenty-something Connect8 members made sure they gave the band's chaperones a drive around town. Probably to a concert; maybe a West End show afterwards.

He was ready to get drunk, something he had been wanting to do for a long while. He had to stay sober as Connect8 had nothing but gigs, rehearsals, and meetings. His band had an over-the-phone radio interview the next day. It was enough time to nurse a hangover.

He entered the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge when he heard familiar voices.

"I don't know any of these people."

"Neither do I. But I guess we could become friends with them?"

"We're leaving London in a day or two. I seriously doubt any of them will remember us."

Alex looked up to see Andrew and Alyson standing in the kitchen. They must've also felt overwhelmed by the all the people in the house. He didn't know who they were either. He just knew his bandmates that lived in either London or Essex invited their friends. Apparently, word spread way too quickly.

He noticed they were staring at him. He decided to break the ice with them. He asked as he grabbed three beer bottles, "You two want a beer?"

The couple shook their heads. Alyson added, "We're just sixteen."

Andrew chimed in, "Besides, I can't anyway."

America really is that strict. Alex smirked, "You're in England. The rules here are a little looser than in America."

Andrew asked, "But don't you have to be eighteen to drink here?"

"So? It's not like we're driving drunk. We're drinking in the flat."

"I guess, but still."

Alex asked Alyson, "Is he always this uptight?"

Alyson seemed a bit stunned. She probably didn't notice that about Andrew. Well, he didn't either. He just guessed, but it seemed he got another insight into the guy that can't seem leave his brain.

Alex scoffed, "I thought so."

He shoved the beer bottle into Andrew's chest, and said, "Maybe you should loosen up for once. Maybe get all of your arseholery out of your system whilst you're at it."

With that, Alex walked out of the kitchen. He opened his bottle, ready to gulf it down, hoping to drain both his thoughts and his anxiety away. While doing so, he overheard Alyson saying, "He seems drunk already."

I'm about to be. He opened his bottle, taking his first gulp in months.

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One, two, three, four shots. Impaired judgement.

Five, six, seven, eight shots. Shirt ripped off.

Nine, ten shots. Falling onto what felt like a chair.

Alex felt hands under his arms. He couldn't tell if that was Andrew, so he looked up to see that it was him. He looked so sexy in his leather jacket, like the bad boy he was.

"Maybe it's time you go to bed," Andrew said, unfortunately being a buzzkill.

Alex slurred, "But I'm just getting started!"

"You're already more than a mess. You need to sleep this off."

Alex looked up at him as Andrew him onto his feet. He asked him, "Why you sober?"

Andrew replied, "I told you, I can't drink."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather tell you when you're sober."

Alex groaned. He didn't feel like being dragged into his room. He wanted to keep partying until eight in the morning. It was a moment he got to forget the frustration living inside his mind. What was it? Oh yeah, he knew what that was, but he wasn't going to say it aloud, not even mentally.

He tumbled onto the bed with Andrew on top of him. He felt somewhat sad when he saw Andrew get off from him. Alex could feel sleep was slowly coming his way.

Andrew asked, "Which drawer has your shirts?"

Alex replied, "I don't know. They'll all fit me."

He felt himself being pulled, which he saw it was Andrew. "Arms up," the American guy said.

Alex did just that. He was sure he was very much wasted, but he could tell Andrew was taking his time putting the shirt on him. Alex noticed the way Andrew was staring at him. Did he have a crush on Alex? Was it possible the feeling was mutual? He didn't want to get his hopes, but it seemed like it.

He watched Andrew bite his lip ring as he looked away. He stammered, "I need to go."

Alex held his hand. "Don't go. Stay."

Andrew nodded his head. He sat on the side of the bed. Alex added, wanting to know the truth, "I see how you look at me."

Alex saw Andrew keeping his eyes on the floor as he continued, "You wanna fuck me."

Alex laid down, ready to fall asleep. No, he needed to get the truth from Andrew, so he kept going: "I know you're bi. You're brave to be bi in this world. Your fans are cool with that. Your girlfriend seems fine with it."

Alex added as he closed his eyes, gripping Andrew's hand, "If only my fans would be cool with me."

Andrew asked, "What do you mean?"

He said, "You see what those haters say about me. They all think I'm gay. Even some of my own fans say that."

Andrew asked, "So what are you then?"

"I don't know, and I don't wanna know," Alex said as he finally let sleep take over him