And I’m sad. Despondent and melancholic, as if I’m already mourning losing this new happiness. The crushing feeling of impending doom, the knowledge that nothing really, truly lasts, is a heavy weight, dragging me down.
But goddamn, I also feel really good.
Obviously, I’m just as much of a mess as always. But it’s a new kind of mess. I’m not stable, that’s for fucking sure, so that’sthe same as always. But I feel quiet. There’s a hollowness inside me where my bitterness and my self-hatred used to be. Sure, it will come back sometimes, I know that. But for now, it’s empty. And I’m almost at a loss. What am I going to do now? What am I supposed to do without that driving force of rage pushing me forward?
Without that fuel burning inside me, how do I even move?
“Tommy?” Kira laces our fingers together, reclaiming my attention. She’s had to do that over and over again already and the fundraiser has barely started. My mind’s been drifting to memories of my chase and fuck with Young-gi. It was the most profound and most intense sexual experience of my life, but other than some cuddling and his unwavering stare, he hasn’t initiated anything again.
He asked me outright in the limo how I was feeling, and I shut him down. Is he upset with me about that? I usually give him what he asks for. I just, I need time to process this, dammit.
“Tommy,” Kira says again and I force myself to listen. “I’m going to go visit with my uncle. Alright?”
“Okay.” My stomach flips just at the thought of him and my voice comes out high pitched, my throat tight. Goddamn, I want to find him and tell him how I feel. I need him to know. But I’m such a fucking coward. And so unstable.
What if he rejects me?
And he’d be right to, because I’m so messy and high maintenance, aren’t I? An emotional wreck that’s always causing trouble. And maybe he likes the emotional stuff–my temper, my brattiness–but I come with other baggage, too. He might have a kink for Daddy play, for correcting me, but there’s no way his kink extends to all the other shit that comes with me.
Case in point? This blackmailer. I really think it makes more sense if it’s someone I know, from my world.
And even if it turns out to be Brian, or Gregory or Leonard, isn’t that my fault too? If they want to mess with me, it’s because I lost my temper and beat the shit out of them.
“Tommy?” Kira pokes me in the side and I jump.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. Go ahead. I’ll just,” I wave my hand at the art around me. “Look around.”
“Hey,” Kira steps in front of me, so I’m looking right at her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why does everybody keep asking me that? I’m like, better than I’ve ever been.”
“Are you sure?”
I open my mouth, then shut it. Nah, I’m not sure. I’m not angry right now, not feeling that volatile, toxic shit building inside me, so I feel lighter than a feather. I could dance on air right now, that’s how light I feel. But I’m not exactly worry-free, and this turmoil might not be violent, but it still rocks me to my core. I’m not a hurricane anymore, but I still feel motion-sick.
I’m glad Young-gi has been keeping me close. I’ve needed his steady attention these past couple days.
“I will be. Go on,” I gently spin her and nudge her to the staircase. “Go talk with Young-gi. I’ll be here. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
She gives me a reassuring smile over her shoulder, as sweet as always, and walks away.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts. I try to look at the art, like I said I would, but it’s weird-looking stuff that I don’t really get the point of. It’s all psychedelic shit, and if it means anything at all, I don’t know what it could be.
I bet being high here would be awesome, though. I should’ve grabbed some extra poppers from Maggie.
Pretty, fluttery, hanging tatters of paper and fabric drape over one entire wall, moving slightly in the air conditioning, drawing everyone’s eyes to the subtle movement, so fluid andhypnotic. It rises all the way from our floor to the second-story overlook, where most of the older adults and billionaire donors are mingling, being snobby about the fundraiser and probably chatting about how much money they have.
Young-gi is up there.
I feel a lurch in my gut and sway on my feet because I want to go up to him. I want to put my eyes on him, have his eyes on me. I might be confused, I might be feeling muffled and strange, but I’ll always want him.
Although, he hasn’t made any moves in the past two days. Not since the morning he chased me.Maybe he only wanted to experiment with me, and he isn’t really as gay as he thought. Maybe now that he’s had sex with a man, he isn’t sure he wants it again.
Normally, that kind of thought would make me raging mad, ready to burn the bridge before he could. But right now? I just can’t stop thinking about the way he’s been staring at me. He doesn’t watch me like someone who isn’t interested.
But he hasn’t touched me like that again, either. Is he waiting for me to say something? Maybe I should.
Or maybe he only wants to fuck me when I’m being a brat. If that’s the case, it’s only a matter of time. I might be changing into some new Tommy, but I’ll always be a fucking brat. I know that in my bones. As soon as I’m through with this strange mood, I’ll be back to mouthing off.
