First Half

Title: My Brazen Boy

Author: Ray

Rated: R for language

Pairing: C/M


Fate and destiny plays a part in all of us and they can either trick us or treat us. Two souls find out just how malicious or compassionate they can be, playing the game and seeing if opposites do attract.



Alright, this is for Halloween and somewhat as an apology story. and in case my next update doesnt come before halloween, i'll say it now.


HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


this is actually only the first chapter of two. i hope you guys like it and dont get confused. i've probably made a number of mistakes so excuse that as well. ummm... sorry if things sound rushed.


anyways, with all that said, i hope you guys like it. the next chapter will hopefully be up on friday. but no promises. i have today and tomorow off school so im gona work on it.


enjoy...


~*~



Exactly two years ago today, they made a promise to meet. They buried a time capsule there. They made a promise to meet there two years later, but he still hasn’t come. But he’s going to wait.


~


“Hello?” He answered his phone, stepping into the train of the subway. “Oh, yes, I’m coming Aunt Isabelle. No I won’t be long. Ill see you soon. Love you too.”


He was clad in a black suit with a burgundy tie. It wasn’t him to wear such an attire, but he would only if to put a smile on his features. He hung up his phone and sat down as the train ran its designated course.




First Half




“Did you hear me?”


“Mom, could you just... let me eat?” Chester frowned, frustrated at having lost his appetite.


“Chester, this is a really hard time for her--”


“I know!” Chester said, outraged. He stood up from the kitchen table and walked off. His mother and father both sighed. It’s not like they were able to do anything.


Chester made his way to the basement, well actually, it was his room. He fixed it himself and got rid of all the boxes, old magazines, sports equipment, or other things they simply didn’t need. He hated having to live on the second floor with his parents who constantly nag on his lock-free door.


He locked the door of the basement and made his way down. His walls adorn various posters and pictures of bands he liked. Words that were taken from the choruses of his favourite songs to ones of his own are strewn about the walls. They litter, but remains as a masterpiece, to him anyway.


He turned the volume of his CD player to the max and laid back on his bed as the music flowed into the room, under his skin and into his head.


It was barely a week and he hated the angst filled atmosphere that surrounded his relatives, his house, his family and slowly, into him. Call him heartless, but he didn’t like sap-operated dramas or angst-written words and his cousin dying off was to have an effect on him?


Everyone dies sooner or later, they simply had to wait to find out which one it was. Unfortunately for his cousin, it was a lot sooner.


They were roughly the same age, only distinguished by a degree of a few months. Chester was the older one. They had their share of differences and a lot of similarities. For example, his cousin hated being messy, and Chester was a wreck personified. His cousin loves role playing video games while Chester loves action-packed, limb splattering corpses and bloody guns. His cousin hated any hair products other than shampoo and conditioner; Chester swoons over gel and dying his hair in various colours. It was a necessity, a lifeline.


He could hear his voice being shouted, muffled by the loud music in the basement. He furrowed his eyebrows, pretending he didn’t hear it. But he could hear it, a little more distinct now that he focused his mind on it. He let out a loud groan of protestation and got off the bed, leaving the music and headed up the stairs, unlocking and opening the door. He looked at his dad oddly. Seems he was about to shout.


“What?” Chester asked.


“Your aunt wants to talk to you.” His father replied. Chester rolled his eyes. “C’mon, you have to do it, she really wants to speak with you.”


“She better be on the phone and not here in person.” Chester said, looking away and keeping the disgust written all over his face from his father.


“She’s on hold on the phone.”


“Fine.” Chester shut the door and locked it once again, walking back down with no hurry. He turned the music into background instead and picked up his phone. With the best possible tone he could muster, he refrained from giving into the you’re-so-annoying tone. “Hello?”


If Chester was to describe her voice in a word, it would be static. It’s simply annoying. “Chester, darling.” Chester assumed she was still in tears for she was still sniffling. “The passing was heart-wrenching, and I’m sure you‘re hurt just as much as I am., but there’s someone I want you to meet. He was my son’s boyfriend, and you two would be perfect together.” Chester sighed.


His cousin was gay... and so is he. They also look much alike. That’s their similarities.


The whole day became a blur, just like static.


~*~


At 6am in the morning, his alarm clock, dysfunctional as it was would always blare off. It had been hammered from previous years and it still remained in tacked, save for the few scratches, missing buttons, and weird alarm sound, it still worked great for Chester. It did its job, and that’s what matters.


He got up and took a quick shower. Today was Monday, the beginning of a bloody week. He had a three hour ride on public transit to uptake which would have been his father driving him, which would also have been an hour or less, but Chester pushed that thought away. He didn’t want any discussion with anyone coming any close to his blood, he wanted peace and time to think for himself.


Chester was never a patient person, nor was he an understanding one either. He would debate your logic whether its factual or not, in the end, you’ll feel defeat. He was never one to give up, he was stubborn, snobby, and all down rude. He was never formal, everything was chosen by him and no one tells him what type of clothing he should wear. He didn’t care, he was who he was and he liked it. He was the boss of himself and he let that show.


He may seem calm and collected, and his reputation unperceivable, but one word towards him will tell you in an instant what type of person he was.


Paying the fare, he boarded the bus with his headphones blaring in his ears. Few people watched him and he gave them cold stares, which by the looks of it, frightened them as they repositioned themselves uncomfortably on their seat.


It was still dark outside, the sun just barely lending its glow. A fog could be seen flowing out of the road as cars sped past. The green leaves of the grass were coated with droplets of mist, making them shine in the small amount of light cascading upon it.


Chester closed his eyes and let the bumps of the road lull him to sleep. He had arrived with his estimated time and continued his sleep on his bed, loving the cool it provided.


His roommate woke him just before his class started, glaring at him before agreeing that the time was indeed one in the afternoon. Brad was a good friend of his, understanding him for whatever the bloody hell he might be. A devil may come close to it, but so far, he hadn’t minded. They went to the same class together, not really needing the damn course.


“What course is this called again?” Chester asked, annoyed of the grating professor’s voice who spoke much too loudly.


“Media Studies.” Brad whispered in reply, his mind partly focused on text messaging his girlfriend, like he does everyday. Chester rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and used it as a pillow for his aching head. “There’s this party tonight at Jakob’s place, you coming?” Chester made a grunt as a reply, but Brad took this as a yes, telling him to be ready by seven.


The day continued on with that terrible headache in his head.


~


“Seriously, you’d think people might actually think before they do it.”


Chester sat on the couch, waiting for his roommate to be over. His hand was resting on the arm of the couch, his head rested on his palm. Brad’s voice was background noise as he watched numbly at the television program.


He would find himself doing this sometimes, actually too often. He would think of his future, but there would be nothing there. It was blank, it was darkness, it was void...


“Hey,” Brad said gently, placing his hand on Chester’s shoulder. “For the last time, are you ready to go?”


Chester jumped lightly, standing up and giving Brad a cold glare.


The ride was quiet between the two, but the loud hammering music easily scrapped any thoughts of that away. It was far, Chester noted.


An hour, or two later, they had arrived at a two story house, the party already alive. By now, the time was around the eight region. Amongst the moving and talking bodies of the house, Chester was separated from Brad.


Everyone was new to Chester’s eyes, except for a few that he recognised in his class or the people he would notice in the halls. All of them seemed posh, and extremely stubborn, which by no means was probably close to Chester’s standards. All of them appeared more interested in their hair, their shoes, their clothes, or what other shit was on them rather than the person they were speaking to.


Chester diverted himself away from the self-indulging monotones and stepped into the backyard. It was like smoker kingdom, the orange dots making it somewhat eerie and the smell too strong. It won‘t be long until this house gets a visit from the cops. Chester thought again why he had come here in the first place.


Entering the house and intent on leaving, he spotted Brad, speaking to what appears to be an already drunk or stoned cute boy. If Chester paid attention, he would have noticed his heart skip a number of beats. He walked over to them, his intent on something new.


“Hey, who’s your friend?” Chester asked smoothly, his eyes focused on the strange boy. It took a moment for the dazed boy to realize that someone else was there and piped up when he was being referred.


“Oh... me?” He asked cheerily, stretching his arm enthusiastically towards Chester. “I’m Mike, Mike Shinoda. How do you do--whoa!”


Chester caught the drunk Mike in his arms as he toppled forward, someone accidentally bumping into him. Chester looked over his shoulder to Brad, suddenly not wanting to be in this position of a drunk boy in his arms. Chester asked a silent question towards him.


“My friend told me to take him to his house.” Brad whispered. “I have no idea who he is, do you mind taking him home for me? Cool? Cool, his life‘s in your hands.”


Chester looked wide-eyed at Brad, but before he could complain, the boy in his arms stood back up, warm breath tickling the bare skin of his neck. “I feel funny.” Mike giggled, holding onto Chester like a vice grip. Chester looked back over his shoulder, but Brad was not in sight, he’d disappeared into the crowed of hyenas.


“You smell like flowers.” Mike said, his face seeming to be permanently glued in the crevice of Chester’s neck.


Chester grumbled, attention quickly spreading towards them. He pushed the boy away and grabbed his arm, hauling him towards the crowded doors, not caring if he was being dragged there in the process. It’s not like he’ll remember in the morning anyway. Any chance that Chester could get out of the house, he’ll take, unfortunately, this had to be it.


Once outside with the lot of cars parked on the driveway, Chester tried to interrogate the wobbly boy. He slapped him on the cheek as he veered off topic once again. “I said where do you live, not if you liked apples.”


“Ow, that hurt.” Mike said, pouting and holding his slapped cheek. For the tiniest of a second, Chester felt guilty of what he did, but as easily as it had come, it was gone. “I guess you are a mean person.” Mike turned around, heading back into the house. Chester watched.


As he had predicted, he hadn’t even made it to the top of the driveway before he tripped over his own foot and down hard onto the pavement. A loud grunt was emitted. Chester rolled his eyes and ran to him.


“Good going, dumbass.” Chester commented, lifting the boy up on his feet. Chester groaned as blood was dripped from the boy’s newly cut chin.


Mike placed his hand on the bloodied cut before looking at his hand. He looked at Chester, and in the most horrified eyes, he seemed to harbour something close to a puppy dog’s eyes at the brink of crying, he whispered. “I think I’m bleeding.” His voice was tiny, speaking like its the most secret of secrets in the world.


“No shit.” Chester commented dryly. “Now tell me where the fuck you live.”


“Oh no, it’s all over my shirt.” Mike tried complaining but ended up giggling instead.


“Your shirt is black, how can you--” Chester sighed, closing his eyes at the stupidity of the boy. He’s drunk, he thought to himself, he‘s drunk.


“Did I say something wrong?” Mike was currently placing a finger on his cut chin before placing it to his lips. The second he saw it, he closed his eyes again, finding it strangely erotic.


“You know what,” Chester said, holding the boy’s hands. “Don’t--just... Just don’t do that.”


“Do what?” Mike asked confused. Quickly, the topic was changed. “It tastes like strawberries, wanna taste?” Mike offered his bloodied finger, a grin plastered on his childlike face.


Chester slapped himself mentally for actually considering it. “Do you have a wallet with you?” He asked instead, getting irritated.


“Is it going to stop soon?” Mike asked, referring to the still bleeding chin of his. “It tickles.” He giggled, the blood trailing under his jaw, down his neck, and under his shirt.


Chester looked at the boy oddly. “Can I trust you to stay here and not move?” Chester said, holding him by the shoulders and looking at him seriously.


“Are you leaving already?” Mike said, his eyes turning annulled before he looked down, his hands spread somewhat by his side as he tried to balance himself. “Wow.” He said merrily. “Can you make the ground move faster?”


Appearing as if he might be caught up in his ideological mind game, Chester ran into the house. Moving up to the bedrooms whilst pushing people aside with no second thought, he looked into the non-occupied washrooms and searched for an aid. Thankfully, he found a band-aid box that ranged in sizes. He ran back out with the necessary size, three of them just in case.


The alarm of a car sounding off didn’t help much to ease his nervous mind. As soon as he heard a yell, he ran double speed to where he had left the moronic monkey. He groaned out loud and ran even faster if it was at all possible as the body on the driveway lay sprawled on his side.


“You moron!” Chester screeched. “What the fuck did you do?”


“Someone turned it too fast, and I fell.” Mike giggled, holding his head as he looked ahead down the driveway. “My head really hurts and everything’s spinning. Like, like a... what are those things on a string that go up and down a-and some of them light up and become pretty--”


“Yo-yo’s” Chester supplemented as he sat him up.


“Yeah!” Mike beamed excitedly. “Like that, and we’re going even faster, see? Whee!”


Chester cursed the boy in his arms as he was now bleeding in two places; the side of his head and his chin. The car’s passenger window is cracked and if they don’t get out of there, hell will surely break loose. “Come on, stand up.” Chester said, pulling the boy’s body up.


“Am I lightning up? Like a yo-yo?” He asked cheerily.


This kid is deranged, Chester thought. “Yes, yes you are. Now get up, let’s go show it to people and they will forever be envious of you.” He said sarcastically.


Mike giggled and let Chester hold him around the waist as he was led hurriedly out of the driveway and to the closest public transit stop.


“We’re going the wrong way, silly!” Mike giggled, wobbling and tried turning around but Chester held him firmly. “I think we’re lost.” As soon as they arrived by the bus stop, Chester forced Mike to sit on the bench. “It’s cold.” He complained.


“Deal with it.” Chester replied dryly.


“I’m cold.” He whined.


Chester could tell he really was cold. There were goose-bumps on his forearms and his teeth were slightly clattering. Chester cleaned the blood from the boy as best he could before placing on the band-aids. Thankfully enough, the boy remained quiet and watchful as Chester went about his ministrations.


Once finished, Chester unzipped his jacket and helped place it on him. “There, now shut up.”


“Thank you. We’re we going?” Mike asked, his voice still edged with the alcohol induced aftermath. “Are we gonna go party some more?”


“Yes, yes we will.” Chester said as he sat beside him, waiting for the bus to arrive. Coming to the conclusion that he still had no idea where he lived, Chester dug around into Mike’s pockets only to find a cell phone. He scolded him for not having a wallet, but seeing as that was getting him nowhere, and the bus was possibly nowhere near coming, he decided to call a taxi with the cell phone.


Once it arrived, he placed it into his pocket and dragged the half-sleeping Mike into the cab. Chester preferred this better, quiet and his voice soft. “Are we going to sleep now?” Mike murmured.


Chester made an incoherent noise, coming close to a grunt. Before he was able to move away, the boy’s arms snaked around his waist and his head suddenly resting on his shoulders. “To the nearest motel please.” Chester sighed whilst the taxi driver chuckled.


“Long night huh?” He said.


Chester shook his head no. “No, it’s just bloody starting.”


Once arrived at the motel, Chester lifted the boy in his arms but that doomed failure as he tried to get through the doors. He instead gave him a piggy back ride.


“Wow, your boyfriend’s wasted.” The lone man on the desk said amusedly.


Chester wanted to reply that it wasn’t his boyfriend, but he was much too tired, and seeing a discount fee to engaged or just married couples, Chester instead replied. “Yes, we’re engaged, going to get married soon.”


The man looked at him oddly, then to the body on his back. “All right then, third floor room 305.” He said, handing him the key.


“Third floor!?” Chester groaned. “None on the first?”


The man shook his head. “No, all booked.”


It had taken a great deal of effort to actually get the drunken body into a third floor room, not to mention the body itself barely functioning, unconscious as it was. Chester groaned and nearly shouted in that hallway, feeling a great tug in his ego to get a trolley and carry him to the designated room.


Once finally inside, he plopped the body down on the bed, face first and not caring if the position he was in would be uncomfortable, if anything, Chester would leave him in an uncomfortable position just to spite him when he rouses.


He laid back beside the body, looking up at the ceiling and panting lightly. “I need fucking painkillers.” He muttered to himself. He looked over at the face of the boy that’s currently buried in the blankets. Concluding that if left alone for long enough, he might suffocate, he turned his head over, his face construed under the mass of fluff. “You look like shit.” Chester chuckled, his comment heard only by him.


Feeling particularly tired himself, he let himself daze there, his thoughts wandering into useless negativity of everything around him, especially the boy next to him. He looked over at the sleeping boy again, his start of soft snores taking him away from his thoughts. He squeezed the boy’s nose, closing the oxygen needed regulation. He stopped the snoring, but Chester’s hand was quickly swatted away as the face frowned. Chester chuckled, receiving a great amount of amusement from his drunken companion.


Before he could register the arms and legs wrapping around his frame, it had already been too late. He was a life size teddy bear in the arms of a needy child. “Fuck.” Chester cursed, trying to wiggle loose but whenever a struggling hand from the boy was lifted, it would drop back down like a rock, making him grunt in pain. “This is just great.”


Trying to rid of the soft breath against his neck, or the warmth of the boy next to him, he let his thoughts wander aimlessly again, and before he took notice of his slowly sleeping form, it had already taken refuge on his tired body.


~*~


He left at 6am that morning. It was a habit he wasn’t aware of and it had taken him a second to realise that his alarm clock hadn’t woken him, nor was he in his dorm room and that his hand slapping the bedside table left a strong stinging sensation rippling through his skin. “Fucking thing.” He groaned, sitting up.


It was still the start of dawn by the looks of it. The window was open and it let in a cool breeze enter, making him shiver. He looked over beside him. The boy was still sleeping, thankful that his hands were now curled around himself as he lay in a foetal position.


“Freak.” He whispered to the boy before standing up from the bed. His clothes were rumpled in all areas and he needed the sweater back, but how was that possible without waking the damn shit? He headed into the washroom and cleaned himself as best he could before leaving the sleeping figure alone and taking a four hour public transit ride back to his residence.


“Where were you last night?” Brad asked as he stepped through the door.


“Don’t you remember?” Chester asked in a sarcastic girlish tone. “You made me go out with Alice, except we didn’t go to Wonderland, we went to a sock craze party!”


Brad grinned. “Oh yeah, how’d that go? Did you get him home.”


“You’d better sleep with both your eyes open, Brad.” Chester replied, entering his room and slamming the door. He stripped his clothing off except for his boxers and crawled under the blankets, letting himself get enveloped by the soft confines of sleep.


~


In a rush to get to class, Chester had worn practically the same attire he had the night before. It still smelled clean, why’s it matter?


“Damn stupid class and stupid professor filled with brainless students.” Chester muttered, his head resting on his crossed arms. The teacher’s voice is still too loud, even more so now than the day before. Thankfully, this is the only course he has all year, every weekday except for Thursdays and Fridays. “Stupid--Stupid... what the fuck’s this course called again?”


“Umm, Social Studies.” Brad replied, his mind focused on text messaging.


Chester was at the brink of actually sleeping when someone’s cell phone had gone off. He groaned, the sound emitting closely. It was still ringing and he was getting agitated.


“Dude, is that you?” Brad said beside him, all eyes now apparent on him.


“What?” Chester said confused. “But I don’t have a--shit.” Chester quickly got up and grabbed his binder, walking out for the classroom hurriedly via the backdoor. He dug into his pocket and answered the abrasive phone. “What?”


“Who the fuck are you and why do you have my phone!”


Chester had to pull the loud phone from his ears. “Cou--”


“You fucking thief, I’m gonna send the cops after you, then I’m going to sue you!”


“Shut the fuck up, moron.” Chester said irritated.


“You’re telling me to shut the fuck up?”


“No, I’m telling you to eat a sock.” Chester replied, his thoughts going back to early this morning.


A growl was emitted from the other line, seeming be in the midst of a tantrum. “Give me back my phone!” It was bordering a whine and a beg.


“Shut up.” Chester replied once more, running his hands through his hair.


A great deal of twenty minutes was taken arguing on the phone, Chester telling Mike on the other line to either ‘shut up’ or ‘shut the fuck up, fuck face’. Eventually, Mike had started complaining about his minutes being wasted and that he’ll have to pay extra on the bill, which he concluded Chester will owe him for.


Mike had told Chester to meet him at Grand Park Subway Station, just up the stairs and outside. Chester was surprised to realise that that wasn’t too far away. It was no more than thirty minutes ride in the subway.


Chester had a knack for estimation, and he had done it again. He recognised the boy instantly as he sauntered up the steps. He still wore the same clothes, sitting casually on a metal bench. He was looking around. Chester took that time to stare at the boy, wondering why he had a sudden urge to get closer. He was so much more different when sober.


Feeling stupid just standing there and watching an individual, Chester walked closer until he stood in front of the seated boy. Up close, he could see that the boy was previously crying. He was crying over his phone? Chester laughed inwardly.


Mike looked up at him, glaring before standing up. They stood there, Chester slightly grinning whilst Mike glared daggers. “Give back my phone.”


“Eager aren’t we?” Chester teased, raising an eyebrow.


“No, I’m a lot more eager to punch you in the face if you don’t give it back now.” Mike threatened, his face collected. “Now give. It. Back.”


Chester knew that if he gave it now, there would be nothing after. Deciding to play it risky, he made a deal. “How about I take you to grab something to eat? You look hungry.”


“If this is a trick, I swear on my grave--”


“Calm down.” Chester said, raising his hand. “Take it as an apology, and it doesn’t seem like you’ve eaten anything.” He looked Mike up and down.


“And that’s another thing!” Mike roared, a number of people looking in their direction. “Why was I in that fucking motel room! I didn’t have money! And why do I have this?” He said, pointing to his chin.


Chester couldn’t help but grin, forgetting that the boy had no wallet on him and when he had fallen. “Yeah, about that...” Chester cleared his throat and turned around, looking for a place to eat lunch.


“Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?”


~


Chester had taken Mike for lunch as he promised and given back his phone.


Mike stared at him. “Tell me, what happened last night.” He demanded.


“Well, you see, I met you at the party and you were drunk and so I had to take you home..” Chester explained the story, but Mike kept interrupting and asking questions, serious questions which Chester was a tad frightened of due to his challenging tone. He concluded however that this Mike was a lot more cuter when he wasn’t drunk.


After the story, Mike had demanded once again that Chester buy him a cocktail and if Chester refused, Mike would kill him.


Saying the cup was large was an understatement. It was a bucket placed on a table with a small pink straw on it. “They gave me a pink straw.” Mike giggled.


Chester had planned on taking the beverage away due to the percentage of alcohol harbouring the liquid, but Mike would constantly slap his hand away or kick him under the table.


Chester groaned, running his hand through his hair. “Want some?” Mike offered, holding the pink straw. “Wow! There’s a heart too.” He gaped at the formation of a heart the straw created. Chester rolled his eyes, that was the third time he’d mentioned it. “So pretty.”


Chester grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the booth they sat in. Mike whined, but Chester only kept dragging him until they were finally outside. The sun was setting and the street lights had gone on. “You better know where you fucking live.”


“I live in a pineapple under the sea.” Mike giggled, prancing and waving at various people as Chester dragged both of them down to the subway. “Hey, hey...” Mike was poking him incessantly in the ribs.


“What?” Chester growled. Although scolded, Mike glared back. Chester was holding Mike by the arm for if he let go, he would fall to the floor and speak of how it moves.


It took an extra ten minutes to get back to his dorm room due to the fact that he had to lug a psychotic corpse around, but eventually they had made it. He threw the boy on his bed and ordered him to sleep, after much arguing on his part and too much giggling upon he other, he had gotten him to sleep.


“So why’d you bring him here?” Brad asked, shutting the door to Chester’s bedroom.


“I don’t know where he fucking lives, and he doesn’t exactly know his address while he‘s drunk.” Chester said, focusing on the TV.


Brad sat beside him. “I think there’s more to it than that.” Brad grinned. Chester looked over, confused. “I mean, I must say, he is pretty good looking.”


“Brad, shut the fuck up.” Chester said, sounding disgusted of the idea, but he had already settled on a conclusion on the gorgeous boy.


“Denial, that’s the problem with you people. All right, I’m going to catch some Z’s, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Brad said, standing up and heading to his room.


Brad was right, Chester thought. He felt something growing towards the boy currently sprawled on his bed. It’s very little, but Chester could feel the intense heat of its fast growth. He ran his hand through his hair, turning off the TV and deciding to lay down on the couch.


Chester couldn’t place exactly what he found so interesting with him. His personality? His appearance? Chester sighed. What he knew however, was that he liked being around him, even when he was drunk. But he could tell that drinking wasn’t a regular habit, he didn’t seem the type.


Before his thoughts could wander any further, he inclined to the tiredness creeping up on his muscles as they eased and left him sleeping.


~


“I said WAKE UP!”


Chester jumped to the loud voice and sat up on the couch. “What the fuck?” He said groggily.


“Had a good sleep?” Mike asked sarcastically. “Now take me home.” Mike went to the door to put on his shoes as Chester still sat on the couch and looked on. “Well? Let’s go! I don’t know my way around here.”


In thirty minutes time, they were walking down a deserted sidewalk with a few cars passing by on the dimly lit road. They were both silent and the night breeze was cool. Chester kept asking himself time and time again, why exactly he had come this far. But no proper answer would come, just that his companion was bossy.


“This way.” Mike grabbed Chester’s hand as they started jogging lightly to another path.


“Where’re we going?” Chester asked, feeling a tad excited.


They walked up to a long stretched plank that looked over a small lake. They both walked near the edge of it, Mike still holding onto Chester’s hand. “Looks nice doesn’t it?”


It really was. The water of the lake reflected the moonlight. It let the mind feel at ease and the body calm. It was something you could look on till your heart’s content. Chester could only wonder what it would be like in the day time. But he guessed it would be filled with people. There were playgrounds near it and benches and sidewalks for people to please themselves over.


“I wonder how deep it is.” Mike whispered after a moment, looking down at the dark water. “Do you wonder how deep it is now that you’ve seen it?” He said grinning.


“Well... no not really. It can’t be that deep.” Chester replied, walking over to the very edge and looking down.


Mike behind Chester and held his shoulders. “Can you check for me?” In an instant, Mike pushed Chester forward. Chester created a large splash on the water, fighting to stay afloat with his garments on him, and the cold water didn’t help much.


“What the fuck was that!?” Chester shouted, outraged.


“Is it deep?” Mike asked, not bothered by the tone of Chester’s voice.


Chester swam up and got up on the plank, standing in front of Mike with angered eyes. “Are you fucking insane? I could get pneumonia. Do you want to see how cold the fucking water is yourself, huh?”


“Shut up, I just wanted to find out how deep it was.” Mike said, bored and not at all frightened by Chester. He started walking off the plank, followed by an infuriated Chester.


They walked in silence again, Chester still dripping wet and Mike pretending like he didn’t notice it. “You know, you could’ve at least warned me.” But just as before, his comment went uncared for.


Finally arriving at the house, Mike stopped the both of them by the small gate. He grinned towards Chester. “Thanks for walking me home.”


“What?” Chester said confused. “I can’t even come in to clean up?”


“Not if you wanna get butchered.” Mike said, his smile still apparent on his face, but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes that Chester caught. So he backed down and said good-bye as they parted ways.


~*~


Chester, to his unfortunate luck, was stuck yet again with a half drunken boy.


“Mike, you really shouldn’t consume so much alco--”


“Want some?” Mike offered. Chester shook his head no. “Then shut up.”


Chester could feel the furtive glances other people would steal and he simply sighed and waited for Mike to crash. It wasn’t long until he finally did and haul the boy to another motel. Chester paid for the price so as not to have an outraged boy in the future, if there was to be one.


Chester had sat there looking at the boy half asleep, pondering and trying to construct the puzzle that’s him. When Mike woke up, he only did so to go throw up in the washroom. Chester listened in disgust.


The motel had no medicine, so he had to run out to buy some. When he arrived, Mike was back on the bed sleeping.


“Hey, hey.” He whispered gently. He picked up Mike’s upper body and went to sit behind him. Slowly, he lowered his head so it rested gently on his lap. Chester placed the small cup of blue liquid to Mike’s lips and once finished, he rested him back on the comforts of the bed.


As he slept like a baby, Chester watched. He looked at his closed eyes that appear to show lack of sleep, his lips and his smooth neck. It may have been forward, but it occurred to Chester... he wanted to heal Mike’s sorrow.


~


Chester woke up, alone on the bed. He groaned then sat up to see the blanket falling over the side. As he went to pick it up, he noticed Mike’s sprawled body.


Thinking that he might not like it with the both of them in there, he walked slowly to bathroom to get ready, but before he even made it, a voice stopped him.


“Hey.” Mike spoke groggily. “Where am I?”


Chester turned around and looked at him. “Well you see, you were drunk,”


“Can you help me up?”


“Sure.” Chester went o to continue. “And I looked at your ID last night and I’m one year older than you, so technically you can’t talk me down or boss me around.”


“Will you take me to the bathroom, please?”


“Sure.” Chester helped him to the bathroom. “So, I’d appreciate it if we talked like friends.”


“Like friends?” Mike repeated, holding the door of the washroom.


“Yes.”


“Okay.” Mike closed the door in Chester’s face. That’s how their peculiar relationship began.


~*~


“I swear, we have to drop that class.” Brad muttered as they entered their dorm room.


“Yeah, we do.” Chester’s been dazing off all day, all his thoughts revolving around Mike.


Brad, noticing his state, asked, “Would you fuck Hitler?”


“Yeah, I would.”


Brad burst out laughing, and Chester thoroughly confused as to why it was so, looked over. It must’ve had something to do with the question, which he hadn’t heard at all, he was only agreeing. Leaving the hyena to do his mocking, Chester went into his room and changed.


A knock on the door got Brad rushing towards it. Muffled sounds could be heard and Chester was curious as to who it was. “Chester!”


Chester quickly ran out of his room to see Mike outside the door and Brad holding it open. Mike smiled towards him shyly as Brad winked, left and headed into his room. “Hey, what’s up.” Chester asked casually.


“I forgot to give back your sweater.” Mike said, holding the sweater in front of him.


“What did you do to it?” Chester asked jokingly.


“My dog humped it a few times because it smelled real pretty and my older sister said it smelled like a girls perfume. Which got me asking, do you use girls perfume or something?” Mike giggled.


Chester snatched the sweater away and smiled towards him. When he returned, Mike still stood out the door. “Umm, do you wanna go grab something to eat?”


Mike had ended up choosing the restaurant they had both gone to, it appeared that was his plan the whole time. It was expensive there, but the prices were doable.


“Why so quiet?” Chester asked from across the end of his table.


“What? Do you need something to be thrown at you?” Mike asked, holding the saltshaker in hand.


“No, I’m good.” Chester had long concluded that this person is mentally unstable. “You’re just being extra quiet today.”


“You’ve known me for how long, barely a day and you think you already know all about me?” Chester hadn’t meant for him to act so serious about it, but it seems he was. “What’s your name? I never caught it.”


“I’m Chester Bennington.” Chester said.


“I’m Mike, Mike Shinoda, nice to meet you Chester.” Mike said cheerfully, extending his hand towards Chester who shook gladly.


“Where the hell’s our food, I’m getting hungry.” He said out loud, causing a few heads to turn.


They had stayed there for a while, asking each other questions and Mike, once in a while, bursting out in anger or seriousness when Chester harboured on a topic he particularly didn’t like. He would then threaten to throw something at him, standing up and holding his chair.


Chester took Mike back on the subway, to his house. The people were quiet, all probably tired from coming back to work. “Let’s play a game.” Mike suggested as he sat there, bored. There were just about the equal amount of seats empty to the side opposite the other. “If someone sits on my side,” Mike said, cutting an invisible line with his hand between them. “To that seat over there, I can punch you as hard as I want. If people sit on your side, till over there, then you get to punch me, deal?” Mike grinned cheekily.


“All right.” Chester said warily. As the train stopped in small areas, they took turns punching the other. Both of them knew that the next stop is major due to the fact that its close to downtown. On Chester’s side, a group of people got up and hardly any on Mike’s.


Chester sat there excitedly and couldn’t resist from smiling. As it stopped, people pilled out, the majority on Chester’s side. He laughed deviously as people sat down and barely any sat on Mike‘s side.


“If you punch me hard, I’ll kill you.” Mike threatened. “I’ll stick your fist so far up your ass you’ll be choking on your shit.”


Chester gulped as he stared at the seriousness in Mike‘s face before he broke into a malicious smile, deciding to punch Mike lightly. “My turn.” Mike said, punching Chester as hard as he could.


“Ow.” Chester whined, rubbing his shoulder. “That really hurt.”


“That’s what you get for punching me.”


When they got off, they both walked the dark sidewalk. They hadn’t gone to the flank and looked over the water, which Chester remained slightly grateful for. They arrived at the gate of his house, Mike’s back turned towards it.


“I’m home.” Mike said.


“That you are.” Chester replied, locking eyes with Mike. He moved slowly closer to him, and encouraged by the fact that Mike was neither moving back or protesting, Chester inched his head closer.


“Mike!” Someone called, their heads parting apart before they were even joined. “Is that you?”


“I h-have to go.” Mike said, opening the gate and sliding through.


“Bye.” Chester whispered, but Mike was already long gone.


~*~


The professor was teaching normally with his loud and degrading voice. Chester sat there beside Brad, bored as always. “Brad, if you get caught with that phone, they’ll confiscate it.”


“You tell me this now after having used it how many times in the past classes?” Brad replied.


Chester rolled his eyes and shut up. The door of the room opened. The professor didn’t much care who came in and out, just as long as they stay quiet and listen. And to Chester’s surprise, Mike came in. He spotted Chester right away and went down the aisles to sit beside him.


He sat there, listening to the professor as if Chester hadn’t existed beside him. Chester sat watching him, confused, Brad as well.


Mike raised his hand.


“Yes?” The professor asked.


“Professor, could we have a break?” Mike asked.


The professor seem to have thought about it, and slowly, his lips etched into a smile. “Actually, a break would be nice.”


Some students, gathered together to talk, others went out of the classroom to do their business. Mike turned to Chester and smiled. “Let’s go.”


“Go where?” Asked Chester. “My class isn’t over yet.”


“Don’t be such a nerd, he said it was break.” Mike mocked. “So c’mon, let’s go.”


“I can’t.” Chester stated bluntly. “I’ve been missing a number of classes already. I’d rather you kill me.”


Mike looked at him before standing up. “Fine.” He muttered, getting out of the classroom.


“Dude, what was that?” Brad asked.


Chester placed the palm of his hand to his cheek and shrugged. It was a number of minutes before the professor came back, and when he did, he asked. “Who’s Chester Bennington?”


“That’s me, sir.” Chester said, raising his hand halfway up before dropping it back down.


“Mr Bennington, I won’t mark you absent, so you are able to leave if you wish.”


“Excuse me, sir?” Chester asked, confused.


“I said you could leave.”


“Why?”


“Was that your boyfriend?” A round of ooh’s spread through the room and others with not so friendly looks. “Go see him.”


“Umm.” Chester was speechless.


“Just go.” Brad whispered beside him.


“All right, umm, thank you sir.” Chester took his books, stood up and headed for the back door.


“Oh and Chester, try to help him through it, he needs you.” The professor said sincerely. Even more confused, Chester simply walked out of the large room.


“It worked.” Mike beamed as he pranced towards Chester.


“What did you tell him?” Chester asked.


“That I have AIDS and you’re the cause.”


~


They both headed downtown, to another restaurant, this time it was less pricey. They sat opposite each other and Chester noticed Mike’s distant eyes instantly. He was looking away, looking for something his eyes can focus on.


“Mike, you okay?” Chester asked, a tad worried.


Mike let a huge sigh. “Yeah I’m fine.” He replied.


They ordered their food, Chester paying for it, as always. Chester was halfway through his meal, but it appeared that Mike hadn’t even finished his yet. Chester placed his fork down and stared at Mike. “Tell me what’s wrong.”


Mike looked back, angered, but Chester also pinpointed fright in those eyes. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Mike said. “I said I’m fine, why do you fucking ask again?” Mike slammed his fork down and stood up.


Chester followed suit, leaving a suitable amount of money on the table before chasing Mike out. “Wait. Mike!”


Mike turned around and looked at Chester. “If you ask what the hell’s wrong with me again, I will kill you.” He threatened, tears spilling from his eyes.


Chester simply smiled, hugging him and wiping away the tears. “I promise I won’t.”


~*~


He wanted to be a writer, so he made Chester read the synopsis of a few of his stories. He said that it was treatment, that it helps him. Chester found it somewhat stressful to read them, but Mike had threatened to kill him if he didn’t continue.


They sat together on the grass in the park, Chester was just reading through them when a man on a phone came about a few meters of them, throwing the butt of his cigarette on the ground.


Mike got up. “Hey Mister!” Mike raged. “Why are you throwing the butt of your cigarette here? Pick it up!”


The man on the phone looked at Mike strangely before doing so.


“And why are you wearing that colour of a shirt?” Mike asked.


“I could ask you the same thing.” The man countered.


“Don’t wear the same colour as me!”


Chester then stood up and apologized to the man, taking Mike by the hand and walking away.


~


“There should be more blood and people dying.” Chester said.


“But that’s so violent, it has to be romantic and sweet and sappy and a happy ending.” Mike replied.


“People don’t like that. They like the violence. Like Terminator, everyone loves the action scenes with all that destruction and fighting. It shaped people and it made us love action movies.” Chester said enthusiastically. “Or Fight Club, with all that blood and gore.”


“You’re sadistic.” Mike said.


“No, I just love the action.”


~*~


The following day, Chester had missed another day of his class. Brad had argued, but gave up after seeing the plea in Mike’s eyes that Chester failed to notice. They had gone out to another restaurant.


“What’re you ordering?” Mike asked expectantly as he ordered his meal, fried noodles with pork and soup.


“I’ll have, the stir fry--”


“He’ll have the same thing I’m having.” Mike cut in for him, speaking to the waiter. The waiter looked between the both of them confused.


“But--” Chester muttered.


“You do like the fried noodles with pork and soup, right?” Mike said, looking threateningly towards Chester. Before Chester could respond, Mike turned once more to the waiter. “He’ll have the fried noodles with pork and soup.” He said sweetly.


As they ate, the silence that ensued brought conversations from the other tables to their ears. Particularly on a table to the right of them, two teenage girls were speaking with two older business men, talking about where they were to meet, giggling and laughing.


Mike being truly frustrated for awhile now, and Chester sensing this, stood up and placed his fork down. He went to the table and looked at the two business men. “What do you think you’re doing? This is a public restaurant where people bring their families to eat and you come here and hit on little girls?” He then turned around towards the girls and glared at them. “And you two, what do you think you’re doing prostituting? And why’d you order fried noodles with pork and soup? Order something else!”


“This is none of your business.” One of the men spoke. “We’re just having drinks with our friends.”


“Yeah. What‘s it to you?” One of the girls agreed.


Mike turned to the girl. “Are you even old enough? Let me see your ID‘s!”


“Who do you think you are?” One of the girls spoke back. Mike glared angrily back.


Chester looked on, horrified and shocked. The others were trying to argue but Mike’s voice was so much stronger that it kept them quiet. By the end of Mike’s train of threats, they truly were frightened as they began to pack their things as eyes suddenly direct upon them.


“This sucks.” One of the girls muttered.


“Crazy boy.” One of the business men said.


“What’d you say?” Mike said, taking his knife and walking towards the business man. “Say it one more time, come on, say it I dare you.” He held the knife in front of him as the man ran out. “That’s right, get out of here!”


He sat back down on the table, all eyes literally on him. Chester couldn’t help but stare at the boy himself, speechless.


“I need something to drink.” Mike muttered. “Waiter!”


Mike had ordered the strongest alcohol they had. Chester refused to take in any, someone had to be the designated person to take them back to their homes.


“Today’s my ex-boyfriend’s birthday.” Mike said after the first three shots, as tears rolled down from his eyes. Chester couldn’t help but feel anguished at seeing him cry. “I c-can’t give him his present because we broke up.” Mike was sweating a lot more now, taking in the umpteenth shot. He placed his elbow against the table and rested his forehead against his palm. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over him.”


Chester was amazed that Mike was able to take in shot after shot, watching his face furrow deeply with each. Mike was sweating, refusing to stop drinking. He was nearly done the bottle.


“I need to get you home.” Chester said, standing up.


“N-No... I wanna stay. I’m fine.” Mike said, trying to sit up, but ended up falling to the side.


“C’mon, I’ll take you home.” Chester whispered, asking for the cheque.


The ride on the subway was quiet for Chester, but he liked it. There was barely anyone on due to the time of night. The train was shaky, screeching whenever it would stop for a station. Mike’s head was resting on his shoulder as he slept. His forehead was warm and Chester would brush the hair aside, just enjoying the fact that he could be this intimate with him. He kissed his forehead, holding him closer so as not to let him stammer when the train would.


He had a hard time taking Mike to his house, walking along the dark sidewalk and passing the lake before reaching Mike’s gates. “I’m home.” He whispered.


“That you are.” Chester replied. Chester could tell that Mike was still intoxicated. “You need to get some rest.”


“I don’t want to.” Mike said quietly. “I want to stay with you. If you don‘t let me, I‘m afraid I‘ll have to kill you.”


“Mike you’re drunk. You’ll threaten to kill me again if you wake up on my bed the next day.” Chester smiled as Mike giggled. “Go home and sleep.”


Mike nodded his reply, but before he could turn around, Chester stole a quick kiss. In the dim light provided from a street lamp, Chester could see Mike’s flustered cheeks before he turned around and went through the gate.


“Bye.” Chester whispered.


When Chester arrived back to his dorm room, Brad and his girlfriend were watching a movie together.


“Fun night?” Brad asked.


“Very fun.” Chester smiled sincerely and headed to his room. “Hey Steph.” Chester said before entering his room, receiving a greeting in return.


“Oh, you have some messages on the machine.” Brad said.


Chester wasn’t up to doing anything more, he needed some rest. “I’ll check it in the morning.” He replied. He went to his room, closed the door, and let sleep overtake him.






Second Half





“Did you wait long?”


“No.”


“Sorry I’m late.”


“Not a problem.” Chester reassured as Mike sat down on the small circular table fit for two.


“Are you ready to order?” A waiter asked, coming up to the table.


“I’ll have a coffee.” Mike spoke, smiling up at the waiter.


“I’ll have a coke.” Chester said.


“Coke? Do you wanna die?” Mike threatened before turning a smiling face towards the waiter. “He’ll have a coffee.”


By now, Chester was use to the threats and simply smiled. He knew there was something wrong with Mike, something that was bothering him that makes him act the way he does. Whatever it was, Chester knew that he would find out soon enough, he would, however long it might be, he’ll wait.


Mike threw stapled papers in front of Chester, implying him to read another one of his stories. “Another story?” Chester asked.


“Read it and tell me how it is.” Mike demanded rather than said, but his voice was sweet. As Chester read the synopsis, Mike watched the different expressions going through Chester’s face.


“UFO’s?” Chester asked, confused as he put down his paper.


Mike looked behind Chester dreamily. “I think there are UFO’s out there. I think they’re time machines.” Mike spoke quietly as Chester sat and listened. “I want to meet one someday. I will meet one.”


“Well, I just hope they take you away with them.” Chester replied.


Before Mike was able to respond, their coffees arrived, ensuing a silence that passed between them. “Take it to the Spark Art Cine so they’ll make a movie out of it.” Mike said.


~*~


Chester had gone to the building and given the paper Mike had given him the previous day. They never called back.


~*~


It had been a long day with Chester missing another one of his classes and numerous threats he received from the ever so evil Mike. Chester was taking Mike home via subway, feeling a spark of over protectiveness towards Mike. Anything might happen to him, if not by his beautiful appearance, then his attitude.


A kid that sat in front of them stole a lipstick from his mother’s purse, the mom oblivious to this because of her large mirror in front of her face as she applied layers upon layers of foundation on it. The kid, lipstick open, went on the floor of the train and drew a line from their seat to where Mike and Chester currently sat, and once he got there, Mike spoke.


“Hey kid, the subway’s not your sketchbook.” He said, leaning forward and looking down at the kid. “Don’t scribble on it. Wanna die?”


The kid, frightened as he was, ran back to his mother and buried his head in his mother’s shirt, hiding from Mike.


Chester felt sorry for the kid, but it is vandalism.


“I have another game we can play.” Mike spoke happily as a man stepped over the red lipstick line with his left foot. “Left foot over the line, I win, right foot, you win.”


Chester thought about this. “What’s the prize?” He asked.


“Let’s see...”


Chester leaned over and whispered to Mike’s ear. “How about a kiss?”


“A kiss?” Mike said out loud. “Do you wanna die?”


“Fine, choose.” Chester said, a tad disappointed as he sat back against his chair.


“Hitting each other.” Mike smiled.


“Again?”


“Yes, you can hit me too.”


“Okay, fine.” Chester agreed. “Someone’s coming.”


As they waited for the man, coming closer and closer, they both counted his step and estimated whether he would walk over it with his left or right foot. Eventually, the man had walked over it with his right foot, making Chester beam as he turned to face Mike.


Mike sat there unnerved, waiting for a flick to come to his forehead. Chester dully took his time, holding Mike’s chin as he tried to shy away. He laughed as he flicked him on the forehead, smiling cheerily back.


“This isn’t fair.” Mike said, looking over at Chester’s exuberant face. “My skin is sensitive, so I’ll slap the cheek.”


“What? No.” Chester disagreed. “That means I can change it too then.”


“But you’re stronger.” Mike said, smiling.


“We’re equal.” Chester replied.


Mike’s eyes took in a threatening look though his lips were still etched with a smile. “Okay, then. You slap and I slap too.” Mike’s voice went up a note. “Go easy on me, and I’ll kill you. Better slap me on the cheek, if you don’t, I’ll kill you!”


By the end, Mike was nearly shooting daggers through his eyes, his smile no longer there. Chester submitted. “Oh, all right. You slap and I’ll flick.”


“Right, that’s fair.” Mike agreed. “Oh, oh! Left foot!” Mike instantly slapped Chester on the cheek, knowing well that neither of them were paying attention to the man that had just walked by. “Saw that?” Mike asked, pointing with his finger. “See that guy step over with his left foot?”


“I had my eyes closed.” Chester argued. “And he came the opposite way, I thought it was suppose to be this way.” Chester said, pointing to his left.


“Shut up, shut up, here they come.”


A group of kindergarten kids, led by a teacher and ending with another teacher on the other end, all held on to a rope as they walked in a straight line formation. Chester was always good at estimating, and as he counted their footsteps, he was certain that the majority would be in his favour, if not all. He smiled.


They arrived at a station. “We’re here, let’s hurry up.” The teacher at the front said behind her shoulder, and the kids, led by the teacher, walked faster, thus ruining the estimation Chester had made. They all stepped over with their left foot.


Chester looked over at Mike, frightened. “Do you have to hit me?” Chester asked in a tiny voice.


“Come here.” Mike said, holding onto Chester’s chin. “Stay still.” And one by one, slap by slap, Chester’s cheek became redder and redder, making everyone on that train look at the activity going on between the two.


Chester rubbed his cheek once Mike was finished. Chester never knew how his day would turn out whenever he was around Mike. It was uncanny that he’s still alive.


The door of the train opened, and a man walked in, holding onto a crutch, his left foot his only support, the right not even scrapping the ground as Chester watched in misfortune at the bandaged foot. Mike smiled.


~*~


Chester had gone to class, reminiscing on the activities he and Mike had been through. He still wasn’t able to figure out the mystery that was Mike, and it continually frustrated him, but he promised himself to remain patient.


The class was boring as usual, the loud voice of the teacher reaching every corner of the room. Brad was on his phone and three fourths of the class had their heads down, no doubt sleeping just as Chester was trying to do now. To him, the time always stretched and seemed to go on till forever. Brad would seldom entertain him, bursting out into giggles randomly, which may not sound as amusing, but to Chester, it was golden entertainment.


By the end of the class, Chester was surprised to see Mike waiting for him outside. Standing so innocently, feet together and hands in his pockets as he watched Chester come closer.


“Hi.” Mike greeted, piping up.


“Hey.” Chester replied. They both walked away from the school, heading someplace to simply sit and talk. They had found solace at a park, deciding to buy ice cream along the way.


“Wanna know something?” Mike whispered beside him to Chester as they walked down a pathway. “I don’t wear underwear on exam day.”


Chester choked on his ice cream.


~


As the sun renounced from lending its glow, its departure brought a torrent of heavy rain. The cars were loud, running over water as it splattered aside. The window glass would reverberate its sound as the droplets would descend upon it.


Chester quickly flung his zip up sweater over both their heads as they made a run to Mike’s gates. There was no tree at the gates, so they both stopped under a tree, just outside it.


Chester could feel Mike looking at him, it was just a second, but he felt something in his eyes.


“Wait here, I’ll go get an umbrella.” Mike said as he ran towards his gates.


“No, It’s okay.” Chester replied, already walking away. “I’m already wet, I’ll just leave.”


Mike simply looked on before quickly heading inside, not wanting to be soaked even more by the rain.


Remembering that he still had Mike’s phone, Chester went to give it back.


~


“Are you my son’s boyfriend?” The father asked after taking the unknown shot of the vodka in front of him.


“Umm, yes sir.” Chester replied, briefly looking over at Mike to read his expression. But none came as he sat quietly looking at his lap on the couch. The mother sat there, her eyes frantically moving from one person to another. Appearing to want to talk, but whenever he mouth would open, it would close back again, as if what she might say was inappropriate somehow.


“How much do you know about him? Not much I suspect.” He said, taking another shot.


“No, not much.” Chester said.


The man took another shot. “Next time, don’t stay out this late.” He warned. He stood up, followed by the eyes of everyone in the room, but before he made it to the door, he collapsed to the floor.


~


“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Mike said, looking down at the mat by the door.


Chester couldn’t help sense how vulnerable Mike was. He seemed out of place, he wasn’t calm or collected, her was nervous. “It’s all right.” Chester said lightly, tilting Mike’s chin up so they’re eyes met. “I guess I’ll be going.” He said, taking his hand away to open the umbrella.


“I guess you should.” Mike replied.


“Bye you.” Chester said before turning around and walking into the pelting rain.


“Bye.” Mike whispered, but he didn’t know if Chester had caught it or not.


Chester had wanted to turn back, needing to feel Mike’s lips against his, but he deemed it needy for his part. He simply smiled at the idea and walked on, but before he got far, he heard yells and screaming coming from Mike’s house. He stopped, faced the house and listened.


“...never allowed it!” The mother yelled.


“I don’t give a shit!” Mike replied, his voice louder.


“We told you never to meet with him. He’s dumb and he has not future, Mike!”


“What do you know!? You’re stupid so you don’t know!”


Chester stood there, appalled and in a few moments, the door slammed open. He stood in the shadows as Mike walked the opposite direction of where he was heading. Chester couldn’t do anything as he watched Mike retreat into the dark pouring rain.


~*~


Chester heard nothing for a long time. Ever since that night, no exchange of words were passed.


“I swear, do you ever just like, not leave the controller alone?” Brad said irritated as Chester yet again flicked the channel. “Give me that.” Brad snatched the controller away, earning a grunt in return. “What’s wrong with you? Your hamster died?”


“I don’t have a bloody hamster, you moron.” Chester said, rolling his eyes as he sat back, Brad deciding to place the controller as far away from Chester as possible.


The phone rang, and instantly, Brad jumped for the cordless black plastic before sitting back down in his original position. Chester looked at him oddly.


“Porn service, specializing in pleasuring the populace for nine years, how may I help you?” Brad chirped. “Chester? He’s a little busy right now, if you know what I mean.” Brad had a grin plastered on his face.


Chester snatched the phone away, a lot rougher than how Brad had done earlier. He glared at him before placing the phone against his ears. “I’m here.”


“Hi.” Mike said.


“Hey.” Chester replied, feeling a sense of relief wash through him.


“It’s our 100th day anniversary tomorrow.” Mike said. “When do you think a guy is the prettiest?”


“Prettiest? When you‘re naked.” Chester replied, smiling at the idea as Brad groaned beside him.


“I swear, you have a death wish. Seriously.” Mike intoned in reply.


“All right, okay. I think a guy is the prettiest when...”


“When he’s playing the piano?” Mike filled in.


“Yeah, I think a guy could be really pretty when he’s playing the piano.” Chester said sincerely, picturing Mike playing the piano.


“What would you want him to play?” Mike asked as Chester wondered where these questions were coming from.


“Umm, George Winston.” He replied.


“Okay, well...” Mike said.


“Well, well what?” Chester asked.


“Aren’t you going to ask me the same question?”


“Umm, okay. When do you think a guy is the prettiest?” Chester asked, obeying to Mike’s demand.


“I think a guy is the prettiest when he carries a rose to someone close to him.” Mike responded. Mike’s implications were as obvious as rain, and Chester smiled in return, saying his okay. Mike told Chester where his school is located and what time he was in class. He gave the room number and asked him to be careful to come in due to the security guards and that if you weren’t participating in the school, there was a low chance of him entering.


“What day is it tomorrow?” Chester asked Brad.


“Friday.”


~*~


Chester had gotten the attractive rose and asked for it to be wrapped in clear plastic with a beautiful ribbon. It hadn’t cost him much, but it wasn’t cheap either. That was the easy part, entering the school was another matter.


Chester had climbed over the high fence, almost ripping his shirt in the process. He cursed the branch and made sure the rose was still in tact. He lowered his cap, keeping sure it covered his eyes as he walked to wherever the classroom may be.


The class was ten minutes in, and eventually, Chester found the room. He entered slowly and instantly, all eyes were on him. He felt awkward, standing there with nearly two hundred pairs of eyes on him.


He wondered where Mike was as he walked the back of the classroom. Finally filtering into his ears, the sound of notes played in perfect harmony entered his ears. The room was elevated so Chester was at the top most row, at the bottom, the stage stood, where currently, Mike sat and played.


He could see the small smile harbouring his lips as his fingers danced on white ivory. He took off his hat, and with it, everyone. His focus was trained on Mike and everyone just seemed to disappear around him. Slowly, he walked down the steps, eyes still upon him. Chester held the rose in front of him and as he reached the stage, he walked up the steps and beside the piano just as Mike finished playing.


Mike looked up and smiled earnestly. He stood up, his gaze locked with Chester. Chester slowly passed the rose to Mike, with him gladly accepting it. The room immediately burst into a wave of claps and howls.


Under the light, Chester could see the apparent blush on Mike’s cheeks. He looked at the rose shyly before lifting his eyes back towards Chester.


Chester wanted to say something, but he felt it may ruin the moment. Just looking at him was enough for him anyhow.


~


But that wasn’t enough for Mike.


Mike pulled a nervous Chester as they ran across the street, a car honking as it passed. “Fuck you asshole!” Mike yelled. He turned his head towards Chester and smiled. “You ready?” He asked.


“Ready? Ready for what?” Chester asked nervously.


“Clubbing of course.” Mike beamed.


Though he may look crazy, Mike actually knew how to dance to the loud bass of the room and the music that crawled under their skins. He cleared room on the floor, and just like Mike, Chester had started to go crazy on the dance floor as well, both of them showing skin here and there.


By the end, Chester had yet again ended up with an unconscious Mike.


He called a taxi, taking Mike home.


On the ride, Chester rested Mike so he was resting comfortably against his shoulder. Chester could tell Mike was having a happy dream compared to their first time in the motel room. His slips were etched with a smile and his face didn’t seem so worried.


Chester wrapped his hands tighter against Mike, moving him closer and in return, Mike wrapped his hand around Chester’s waist.


“Could you drive slowly, please?” Chester asked the taxi driver.


Once they arrived at Mike’s house, Chester was yet again faced with the drunken man. His shot glass was in his hand and the other holding the dark green vodka bottle.


“I don’t want you to see him anymore.” He slurred. “Stay away from him. You hear me?”


He looked at the mother who avoided his gaze. He looked back at the father, his head tilting awkwardly as he snored. The bottle spilled onto the carpet, the shot glass rolling away. The mother went to clean it up just as Chester stood up. He couldn’t say good-bye to Mike, maybe he’ll do it some other time, he decided.


He walked out and headed back to his dorm.


~*~


It was even longer than before that mike hadn’t called him. Worried was an understatement if ever one had to label Chester. Brad looked at him, completely anguished and utterly dismayed. It had taken a number of days to convince Chester, but eventually, he had gotten him into a blind date. He argued at first, but he relented at the notion of forgetting about Mike.


After the failure, they both headed to a bar to play billiard.


“Well it was worth a shot, right?” Brad supplemented, hitting the stripped nine ball.


“I guess.” Chester replied, his voice not even in his words. “Wanna head back? I‘m feeling a bit tired.”


“All right.” Brad replied, hitting one last ball, hitting the eight ball and sinking it into a pocket.


As they unlocked the dorm door, they could hear the phone ring. Brad unlocked it faster and once a small crevice was created, jolted towards it. Chester closed the door slowly, locking it and walked unhurriedly to his room.


“Chester!”


“I’m not here.” He replied tiredly.


Brad walked over, placing his hand over the receiver of the phone. “It’s Mike.” He whispered.


Chester took the phone. “Yeah?”


“Come to the Cafe by the cinema.” Mike said.


“I’m tired.” Chester said bluntly.


“Do you wanna die? I have a blind date. Now come.”


Before Chester was able to reply, Mike had hung up on him. “Brad, I’ll be right back.”


~


“Hi, I’m Chester.” Chester shook the man’s hand, receiving a greeting in return.


“What would you like to order, sir?” A waiter asked.


Chester looked at Mike, then to the coffee in front of him. “I’ll have a coffee please.” Chester replied.


“You could have something else if you like.” Mike said beside him.


“It’s okay. I’ll stick to the coffee.” Chester smiled.


“So he’s your close friend?” The man said to Mike. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” He said to Chester.


Chester looked at Mike, then away, replying. “Yeah... close friends.”


“Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” Mike excused himself at the silence that followed. He knew he shouldn’t have said that about Chester, but he didn‘t feel like it was right to say something else. He opened the tap and let the water run, cupping his hand so he could wash his face.


He stood for a while looking at himself in the mirror and after some long minutes he headed back out. Noticing that Chester was gone, he asked the man. “Where’d Chester go?”


The man smiled back. “He said he had something to do. He told me ten rules before he left, however. Sit down and I’ll tell you, I have a pretty good memory.” Mike did as he was told and listened to the man in front of him.


Mike looked at him oddly as he began.


“First rule he told me, don’t ask him to act mature, let him be who he is.


Second, don’t let him drink over three glasses, he’ll beat someone.


When you’re out together, always order what he orders.”


Mike could feel his heart wrench as he sat uncomfortably on the chair, his eyes moving everywhere.


“If he hits you, act like it hurts, if it hurts, act like it doesn’t.


“On your 100th day together, give him a rose during his class, he’ll like it a lot.”


Mike could feel a single tear trail down from his eye, wiping at it madly. He could picture telling the rules, anguish in his eyes.


“Do everything he asks you to do, no matter how insane it sounds.


“Also, be prepared to be humiliated sometimes.


“If he says he’ll kill you, don’t take it lightly, you’ll feel better.”


Mike choked on a sob, clasping his hand over his mouth as more tears descended.


“If he’s drunk, be ready to carry him home.


“Finally, he likes to write. Encourage him.”


As the man finished, Mike immediately bolted up and ran out of the cafe. He searched around for any signs of Chester, but couldn’t find him. He ran as fast he could towards the subway where he knew he would be.


But as he went down to the bottom floor where the trains arrive, there was still no sign of Chester. He ran down the long stretch, hoping to find him, but he still wasn’t there. He ran back up the escalator and pushing people aside as he said his excuse me’s.


Stepping into the control room with the intercom, he gasped for air. “Please, I need to use the intercom.” Mike pleaded, his eyes red as the tears refuse to fall down.


“What for, is it an emergency?” A man asked.


If Mike’s eyes didn’t give it away, he didn’t know what will. He nodded vigorously.


“You’re going to have to wait for a little bit, okay? A train’s arriving and I need to do my regular routine warnings.” A lady spoke, turning on what appears to be the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen-


“Chester.” Mike interrupted, leaning into the intercom before standing straight back up.


“We ask that you please step back from the yellow like--”


“Chester.” Mike interrupted again. The lady looked at him, almost scolding him before continuing.


“After passengers get off, please take in order--


“Chester.”


“Please take the next train.”


“Now what’s his name?” The man asked.


“I’d like to do it myself please.” Mike said, wiping his eyes. He leaned down into the intercom and held it firmly and shakily. “Chester, where are you?” Mike spoke, waiting a couple of moments. “I looked all over for you. Chester, come to the escalator, okay? Please? You’re dead if you don’t. Hurry up.” As he finished, Mike knew that his voice had sounded choked and apparent that he had been crying.


He wanted to say thank you, but as he looked at the man, his eyes were focused on someone else. Averting his eyes away, Mike saw Chester standing no more than a meter away from him.


Immediately, Chester wrapped his arms around Mike. Another wave of relief rounded Mike as more tears descended. He pushed Chester away and slapped him in the face. “Who told you to hug me?” Mike’s lips were trembling. He placed his hand on the slapped cheek, his eyes still bawling over. “You’re suppose to dodge dummy.”


Chester took Mike home again, like always. He enjoyed this routine, he loved it as a matter of fact.


Chester could feel that they were standing between a crossroad. What’s going to happen between the two of them? How far are they going?


“I’m home.” Mike whispered.


“That you are.” Chester replied, the side of his twitching into a grin. Slowly, he moved closer just as Mike had moved slowly back until he was against the gates, squeaking at the pressure.


They were centimetres from each other, their breaths mingling as their eyes close, but just as their lips lock.


“Mike, you out there? Your father said not to be out this late.” His mother yelled.


Mike pulled his head back, as did Chester, disappointed. “I h-have to go. Good-bye.” He said, slipping through the gates and running to his door.


“Bye.” Chester whispered. scratching his head and letting out a sigh.


~


During the ride on the subway, Mike had instructed Chester to write a letter about them and to bring it with him. Mike told him to express his feelings, but Chester was finding it hard to. He tried hard, but he simply couldn’t find the right words.


When Chester had first met him, he wanted to cure his grief, but now, he can’t give him up. Chester asked himself, is this how we’re preparing to split up?


~*~


They had taken a three hour subway ride to the suburbs, and then getting off, it took them thirty minutes to take a bus to the farm areas and another thirty minutes to ride the transport trains for goods and such.


The trains out here in the suburbs were a lot more low tech. They had open doors so people could jump in or out freely and sometimes, the large doors would be open to expose the large amounts of haystacks or boxes they carry, or none at all sometimes.


As the train stopped, Chester jumped off and helped Mike off as well.


The area they were in consisted of mountains. They weren’t large. The green grass and small trees were still visible from the bottom, but when high up, it would seem different.


The view was magnificent. It was breath taking as you look on to the world in reverie. It was quite at the top, no one bothering to live up there because it was just too high up.


It was a windy day, both Chester and Mike’s hair and clothes flailing about.


They sat on a large rock that protruded near the edge. It overlooked the whole city that was below, showing the individual houses, factories and buildings, even the train tracks.


Mike sat, looking at the clouds, the trees, the birds that fly about, anything that catch his eyes. Chester sat beside him, leaning on his hand that stretch behind Mike.


Mike looked at the mountain adjacent to the one their on, the height appearing to be the same. Mike points to it. “Do you think someone could hear me from all the way over there?” He asked, turning to face Chester.


Chester estimated. “Probably.” Chester replied, then changed his mind. “No, probably not.”


“Go there and check. I’ll shout, if you hear, answer me. Okay?” Mike asked, this time with no threat or hard tone on his voice.


Chester wanted to relent but eventually gave up due to the pleading look in Mike’s eyes. It had taken him a good thirty minutes to get across. Mike could see him jumping up and down, waving his hands when he had finally gotten there. Mike smiled and waved his hands as well, his eyes beginning to well up.


He could see Chester shouting, but his voice couldn’t be heard. Mike placed his hands in front of his mouth and yelled. “Chester! Can you hear me?” Mike knew he was at the brink of crying, he could feel the tears about to descend. “Chester?” He whimpered, his voice breaking and not even bordering a yell anymore. “I’m sorry, I really can’t help it.”


Tears had crestfallen over his cheeks, the wind brushing by and making them cold. Chester was still right across waving and appearing to be screaming. More tears fell from Mike’s eyes.


“Chester! I’m sorry!” He shouted, but his voice still cracked as it mixed with sobs and whimpers. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I thought I was different, but I’m just a helpless boy.” Mike wiped his tears away with his hands and cupped them in front of his mouth again. “Chester! I’m sorry!” He shouted.


He wanted the tears to stop because soon, he’ll be coming back. But they wouldn’t stop.


~


If a person was to question why a tree grew in a pot of land where there’s dry dirt all season, they would do nothing but dwell in a hopeless answer. The tree stood firmly near the peak of a mountain. Its leaves are always lush green and there’s a pathway towards it in stone and also surrounding it.


Both Mike and Chester sat at the base of the tree. Mike took out a large egg shaped object from his bag.


“What’s that?” Chester asked, looking at the item awkwardly.


“It’s a time capsule, silly.” Mike chuckled, opening the item. “Did you bring your letter?”


Chester waved in front of him. Mike smiled.


“We’ll bury the time capsule here, in two years, we’ll meet here again and we’ll read the letters that day and maybe then, we can find an answer.” Mike smiled towards Chester before placing his letter in. Chester did the same.


Chester thought this was Mike’s way of saying good-bye. He repeated in his head that two years wasn’t long. It wasn’t.


“Two years at two o’clock, okay?” Mike smiled, squinting at the sun.


“All right.” Chester replied.


And so they bury the capsule. Chester dug a hole deep enough near the tree, inside the circle of stones bordering the tree. Mike went around and collected rocks, creating a large pile beside the hole. They both placed the time capsule in and began to bury it, taking their time as they did so.


By the time they were done, it was near sunset. The sky was already turning orange and it’ll be dark soon and they have yet to travel a four hour journey back home.


Chester repeated again in his head that two years wasn’t long and that by then, they’ll be different people from what they are now. They may be closer, or forever apart.


~


They both headed back down to the trains quietly. Chester held onto Mike’s hand as they proceeded down, and when they got there, Mike freed his hand and turned his back on the train, facing Chester. “This is where we separate.” Mike whispered, his eyes welling up again. The blow of the train sounded, readying to go. “You should go first.” He said, looking away whilst biting his bottom lip.


“Let’s go together.” Chester replied.


“No, I’ll take the next train, it’s better that way.”


The train was picking up speed now. Chester tried to catch Mike’s eyes, but he was clearly avoiding him. Wordlessly, he caught up to one of the cargo trains and latched on and entered it.


“I’ll see you in two years!” Chester yelled.


“Okay, in two years!” Mike replied, the tears falling from his eyes.


Chester heads inside the cargo and was amazed that it had seats. He looked out the window, thinking over the situation. The train was picking up speed a lot more immensely now.


He took a deep breath and stood up. He went to the door and jumped off, rolling on the dirt. Two years was too long.


But Mike had the same idea. Just as Chester had jumped off, Mike had latched on.


“Mike!”


The train was moving too fast now to jump off.


“Chester!”


Maybe it was fate and destiny.



Overtime



For two years, Chester made himself busy. He wrote stories about him and Mike together over the internet. About their interactions and behaviours and events.


Chester became more mature. He worked hard in college and earned a degree in nursing. Brad had gone off to do his own thing, somewhere in the music industry, something Chester was quite interested in as well.


Chester had gone to Spark Art Cine and showed them the story he’s made, “My Brazen Boy”. They made it a movie. Chester made his dream come true.


Chester was exuberant and he wanted to tell Mike right away, but he could only wait till that day.


~*~


Exactly two years ago today, they made a promise to meet. They buried a time capsule there. They made a promise to meet there two years later, but he still hasn’t come. But he’s going to wait.


He didn’t come.


Chester sat down and leaned against the tree, the time capsule dug out. He took out Mikes letter and read it.


Chester


Hi, Chester. I was so happy while being with you. I’m not sure if you knew, but the person I loved passed away. The day when I first met you was the day he died two weeks before. Actually, I tried to look for him in you. I know it was wrong, and for that, I’m sorry.


I also met him on the subway. I was really sick at that time. He brought a rose to me during my class. He did everything I wanted, like you did. Under this tree, we planned our future together. But he suddenly passed away. While I was dating you, I met his mother often. She wanted to introduce a nice man to me. But I couldn’t.


The day I first met you, I came under this tree and I prayed to him to let me free. When I met you this occurred to me, that maybe he introduced you to me. But the more I met you he seemed to grow jealous of you in me. The more I liked you, I felt guilty inside.


While the two of us are apart, I want to forget him alone.


If I’m not with you after two years, it means I still lack courage. How much will we change after two years? I feel like you live in the future and I live in the part.


I want to meet you soon, so I can read your letter.


Mike


~*~


A lone woman sat leaning against the tree, simply reminiscing on her old days of youth. She looked towards the path that led up to the tree and saw a man walking towards her. As he came closer, she kept her gaze fixed on him.


“Why are you staring at me, ma’am?” Mike asked, placing a hand on the tree.


“Because you’re very handsome.” The old lady replied. “I thought an angel came down.”


Mike chuckled and sat down beside her, placing his backpack in front of him. “Do you come here often?” Mike asked.


“Sometimes.” The woman replied. She looked up at the tree. “This tree has a secret.”


“I have a secret here, too.” Mike commented.


“Really?”


“Three years ago, I buried a letter here with my boyfriend.” Mike said, feeling the old woman’s eyes on him. Deciding to change the subject, he looked and smiled at her. “What’s your secret?”


“So what happened?” The woman asked, dismissing his question.


“We promised to read the letters a year ago, but I couldn’t come.” Mike said, looking out at the distant scenery.


“I guess your a year late.” The woman said quietly.


“But two years didn’t seem that long.” Mike said, lowering his head. “I haven’t made a decision yet. I wasted my time on stupid thoughts.”


“Such as?” The woman asked, attentive to Mike’s words.


“If we’re destined to meet, I thought we’d meet by chance somewhere.” Mike whispered.


“Do you know what fate is?” The old woman asked. “Building a bridge of chance for someone you love.” Mike smiled at the old woman’s words. “To be honest,” She continued. Mike looked over at her. “I read your letters. I said this tree had a secret, yes?”


“Yes.” Mike replied.


“Look closely. Does this tree look the same as before?”


Mike inspected the tree and stood up. “Well, it looks like its changed a bit. But I’m not sure.”


“People are dead or alive.” She said. “There’s a dead tree and a living tree too.”


Mike looked at the tree and listened to the old woman, though her words lost him a bit.


“This tree was struck dead by lightning last year,” She continued. “It was split into two. But this young man felt sorry for it.” As Mike listened, he leaned against the tree and thought of one person, Chester. “During the spring, he planted another tree that looked the same. When he plated the tree, he asked me if it looked the same. He said that someone would be sad if it died, so no one should know.”


“Chester.” Mike whispered, letting a tear trickle down his cheek.


When the old woman had left, Mike read Chester’s letter.


~


“You’ve called a wrong number or the dial is not in service. Please call again.” The operator spoke. Mike dropped the phone down, wiping his eyes.


Mike smiled sadly. He stood there silently in the train station, stepping behind the yellow line as the train arrived. He entered it once it opened, and held onto the bar as it squeaked away.


He’ll set himself free.


~*~


“Chester, are you going to see her now?” His mother asked.


“Yes, mother.” Chester replied.


“Good, last time you saw her was a year ago.” She said, looking him over. “You’re wearing the same tie, change it.” She demanded.


“Why?”


“Because I remember you wearing that same burgundy tie last year. Now change it.”


Chester groaned and went to change his tie, wondering how in hell she would remember. “Striped burgundy.” Chester muttered to himself, opening the door and heading out.


“Do you want me to drop you off?” His father asked, but Chester had already shut the door and headed to the subway.


His Aunt Isabelle told him to meet her at a cafe so she can meet someone. Chester thought this was a good start to moving on.


As he entered the rich and elegant cafe, he immediately spotted his Aunt speaking with someone who’s back is turned to him.


He smiled and waved towards her.


“Hey Aunt Isabelle, sorry I’m late.” Chester apologized.


“Crazy boy.” His Aunt held him kissed his cheek repeatedly. “Trying to avoid me huh? Naughty boy. Do you know how long it’s been.” She directed her attention to the other person sat on the table, but still held on to Chester’s cheeks so he can only look towards her. “Sorry, I didn’t tell you before. This is Chester.”


She moved Chester’s head so it was facing the guest on the table. Chester’s heart leaped.


“When you had a hard time, Mike.” She explained. “I tried to introduce you to him for several years, but Chester here kept getting out of it.”


Chester could hear his Aunt, but his main attention was on Mike. He could see the tears cascading down his cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to kiss them away.


“Chester came often to the station where I lived, but he never visited me.” The Aunt watched as Chester went to sit down beside him. Once they were all seated, she spoke again. “Go out with him, I thought he’d make things easy for you.”


The two of them remained silent, simply listening but not looking at her or each other.


“Oh yeah, Chester, you’re going to England, right?” She asked. “Michael’s already been there. So he can give you some tips.”


Chester looked at Mike and kept his gaze locked on him. Slowly, Mike turned his head, their eyes meeting and locking.


“I don’t have to go now.” Chester whispered.


“Why?” She asked. “You two know each other?”


“You may not believe it,” Mike spoke, his eyes never leaving that of Chester’s. Chester entwined their hands together. “But I think I met a man from the future.”



~owari