"Then I was all like oh my god Annie! And then she was all like..."

Dear god if I could strangle this girl without getting arrested, I sure as hell would. This bar has way too many plastic Barbie dolls who don't know when to shut up.

"Hey?! Are you even listening to me?!" she squawked. Her fake ass nails dug into my arm further and I wanted to scream.

"I'm gay and uninterested." I jerked my arm back just in time to see the homophobia show.

Her bubblegum pink lips made an O and her eyebrows scrunched up in hate. "Ew you're gay? Ugh I can't believe it. All of the cute ones are sick." She stepped off her throne of almightiness and sashayed off to the dance floor.

I hate plastics.

I'm actual bisexual, but who the hell cares anyway? Once you say you're into guys too they all scurry off and leech onto their next prey.

"And another one bites the dust?" I heard a chuckle come across the bar. I rolled my eyes and downed the rest of my beer.

"All plastics scream at dust, so no. Although they do bite hard at men's wallets and their dignity."

James shook his head and smiled, continuing to shine the glass he just washed. "It seems like every time you visit they always come after you. You do look similar to a ken doll, so that could be a theory?"

"Consider me a Tom doll. I come with accessories too. Bipolar depression and ADHD."
James laughed a good while at that one, and I cracked a smile. He seems to be the only one who gets my crude humor. Too bad he's got a girlfriend.

"I like that one. You want another round before we close up? The Bud Light's still cold."

"Nah I better not. Wouldn't wanna end up going home with a plastic." God knows I've done that plenty of times before.

"What if you go home with someone special instead? You never know~" he sang. I shook my head.

"No ones special anymore Wag. This world is dull and fake..." I stirred around the remaining sip of beer in my glass.

"Oh brighten up sunshine. You'll find someone someday. I believe it."

"You seriously are the only person I don't hate in this entire screwed up universe." And that's a fact.

"You should try being more...nice. Less sarcastic and spiteful. It might land you a nice partner."

"Wag. You're basically asking me to change my entire personality."

"Oh come on. I know there's a little ray of sunshine in that clouded mess of a mind. If you don't try to find it, you won't find anyone who wants to love you."

I glared at him and his happy rainbow aura for a good while, until he laughed and held his hands up in defense. "I'm just trying to help you. Maybe you just aren't meant for relationships. Perhaps one night stands are your preference." He sat the last glass up on the shelf and threw his rag in the sink.

"It's not like I don't want a relationship...it's just so much working getting one and keeping it. Girls are so damn needy..."

"Have you tried maintaining a relationship with a man lately?"

"No. Because no one in this city is gay apparently. They all prefer barbies and fake breasts, not penis." I handed over my empty glass to him, and he began to wash it.

"You're just not looking good enough. Have you considered going to a gay bar before?"

"Gay bars are full of pedophiles and child molesters."

He sighed. "Not all of them."

"Yes all of them. Look, I don't wanna talk about it anymore. Why do we always end up talking about my love life anyway? It's weird."

"No no, no running away from the topic again. I am going to set you straight sunshine."

"Stop calling me sunshine."

"No. Listen to me. Start being more of a good person and start acting...what's the word? Flirty. And if they say they're not interested, then that's okay. You can say you at least tried. You got it sunshine?"

"Wag. No."

"Yes. If you manage to snatch up a man and keep him for a month, I'll give you both free drinks for a whole day. How's that sound?"

How can I argue? Free beer is what I live for. Besides complaining about everything in life.

"Deal." I shook his outstretched hand with a smirk on my lips. I can so do this.

~

I so can not do this.

Flirting is a lot harder than the movies make it look. I actually have to be funny. And charming. And polite.

Flirting sucks.

So far I've tried flirting with at least five other guys. All have either yelled at my face gay profanities or they ran away on all fours screaming and clawing at their eyes. Yeah maybe I'm not gonna be getting that free beer any time soon.

After a sixth rejection from an extremely good looking pool player (who is apparently straight as an arrow, at least that's what his slimy girlfriend yelled as I scurried away from her swinging designer tote bag), I finally decided to take a break. The bars closing soon and I need to get myself sobered up enough to call a cab without cursing at the phone operator.

I headed towards the disgusting bathrooms in the main back, and prepared myself for the horrifying stench that is 'Da Clubs' men's bathrooms.

When I swung open the door, I didn't smell the stench. Just the faint smell of vomit. Sure enough in the corner of the bathroom was a guy puking his guts out in a trash can. Great, a nice smell to go with my bladder relieving experience.

I ignored him and went to one of the urinals lined against the tiled wall. But Jesus this guy was puking so violently it was distracting me.

"Hey buddy, could you puke a little quieter please?" Aren't I a charmer?

It didn't look like he was stopping anytime soon. He was gripping that trash can for dear life. God what did he drink? And how much of it? I've never seen this much yak come out of a person so skinny.

"...dude?" I finished up and walked over to him. Seriously I couldn't care less about the guy, I just want him to quit stinking up the room. James has to clean this place later...
He didn't even look up. Could he even look up? He was practically convulsing his guts.

"Hey pal, look I've been drinking alcohol long enough to know this isn't just a hangover. I think you got alcohol poisoning." The worst I've ever seen too.

He managed to pause long enough to let out a pitiful sob before going back to spilling everything. As much as I hate people and everything about their miserable lives, I sort of felt bad for the guy. He looked so young and pale and skinny. How old is this guy? He didn't look older than seventeen.

"Listen, try taking deep breaths and think about something other than how miserable you are. It'll stop soon."

He did what I said and tried taking deep breaths. I managed to get a look at his face when he raised up from the can. He looks horrible. I mean, I'm sure he looks okay when he's not puking but god he looks terrible. He had super dark hair but it was hella messy and ruffled. His brown eyes were big and puffy and red. His red cheeks had tear stains.

Am I actually feeling sympathy for a human being? Apparently so.

I ripped a paper towel from the holder and wetted it with cold water. My roommates always did this to me when I was this sick. It helped so much.

I pressed it to the back of his neck as he tried to breathe in and out at a steady pace.
"You're doing great kid. Keep going." I can't believe I'm actually helping someone. Maybe Wags advice is taking its toll.

"So...how much did you drink? Ten bottles or more?" That's usually how many I drank before getting alcohol poisoning.

"J-Just...o-one," he choked out.

One? What the hell did he drink?

"What kind of beer you drink kid?"

He raised up a little more from the can and wiped some vomit from his mouth. "I-I don't know...m-my f-friends got it..."

"Friends? Where are your friends? They need to take you home." He is not gonna be able to get home alone.

"They...They l-left." A few tears fell down his cheeks then, and a stab of guilt went through me. His friends just ditched him? He's so sick he can't even speak. Why would they do that?

"Hey finish up and you can call a cab home, alright? I'll let you borrow my phone."

"I...I d-don't know h-how to c-call a c-cab." I could see a little blush creeping up on his neck. He's embarrassed. This absolute nerd doesn't know how to call a cab. I almost snickered.

"I'll call you one then. You done yet? Cab service stops at three am."

He nodded. I helped him out of the floor and pushed him towards the door. I don't have my phone on me, so he'll have to use Wags. Hopefully he's still here and not on break with his picture perfect girlfriend. And he was, still shining up my glass with determination on his thin face.

"Hey Wag, let this guy use your phone. He needs a cab." I pushed the guy towards one of the stools. He slumped into it like a lifeless fish and laid his head down on the bar.

"He doesn't look well enough to even use a phone. Are you alright?" He put a hand on the guys slumped form.

"I think I threw up my soul," he said bluntly. I laughed at him. James gave me a curious look, probably because I never laugh at anyone's jokes but my own pitiful ones.

"Well, would you like some water or apple juice? I won't make you pay for it."

"No no...I'm good. I don't want to put anything else in my body that might come back up. That was horrifying. Thank you through."

"You certainly aren't well enough to go home alone. Tom why don't you go with him? Aren't you leaving soon anyway?" Wag smirked as he said the words. He's trying to push me towards a nervous nerd with an upset stomach? Is he mentally insane? I want nothing to do with this loser. I don't want to take his sick ass home.

"No you don't need to. I'll just call a cab and...wait. Where am I right now?" He looked looked around like he was stranded in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

"This is Da Club. A bar and a nightclub all wrapped up in one. And you seem neither a drinker or a partier. What are you doing here?" Wag is such a sly rat. He's a professional at getting personal information out of people without them even noticing he is. If I had his talent, I'd be stealing people's identities.

"My friends thought that alcohol and strippers were a sure fire cure to my gayness. I don't even know why I call them my friends..."

I saw Wags face light up like a Christmas tree. Oh god.

"So you're gay?" Wag asked bluntly.

"Dude." I narrowed my eyes at him. You can't just straight up ask that to a guy you barely know. Even I know that's rude. And I've shoved an old woman into a shopping cart before because of a bet. I got fifty bucks from that bet.

Worth it.

"Yeah...and both of you guys are homophobic aren't you?"

"Oh no, Tom is quite gay," James assured him. I wanted to slap the shit out of him. He better stop trying to hook me up with this guy.

"Oh that's cool...sorry I judged so quickly it's just...every guy I've met tonight has been really crude to me because of that stuff. At least twenty people walked in that bathroom before you. And you were the only who even asked me if I was okay..." I watched him mindlessly tug at one of the strings of his hoodie. No one even bothered to ask the convulsing seventeen year old if he was alright?

"People are mindless idiots who put on fake masks everyday to cope with their own lives. They're too self centered to care about the people who don't wear the masks."
I was surprised at the words coming out of my own mouth. I don't tell just anyone this stuff, so why this pathetic kid with vomit stained on his shirt?

"Amen..." He sighed and laid his head back down. Wags expressions were creeping me out. It's like every little thing the kid says, Wags face gets all weird and excited.

"Preacher Tom, why don't you continue this sermon after you take him home?" James wiggled his eyebrows.

"I can't drive I'm not sober." Point one for Preacher Tom.

"Call him a cab and make sure he gets home safe then."

"I don't know his address."

"Ask him."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Call him a damned cab and go with him. Remember what I said earlier? Do that."
He's being totally unfair! I don't want to watch over this wimp, I want to go home!

Just then, the guy leaned over his chair and fell completely off the stool. His head hit the floor with a loud thump, and then he went completely still. That'ssss not good...
I picked him up from the floor and tried to get him to stand, but he was completely knocked out.

"Hey kid, wake up. I can't lug your ass home if I don't know where you live."

He moved a bit then and his eyes opened. "Madisonburg Apartments..." And then he went limp again.

"I'll call you a cab right now." Wag smiled and picked up the phone.

Damn matchmaker.

~

"Aye I said don't get no vomit on my floor kid!" The driver yelled as the guy tried to not puke on the seats. He was still clinging onto me even though we were sitting down and he didn't need the support.

"S-Sorry..." he murmured, and went back to focusing on the gray hood top of the car.

"Don't apologize for being sick. No wonder your friends walk all over you. You're a doormat." I rolled my eyes.

He said nothing, but I did hear a small little laugh over the sirens and horns that are city life. Did he actually laugh at my insult? Should I be insulted? Or flattered?

"Did you just laugh at that?" I questioned him.

"Y-Yeah. It was f-funny. I wasn't s-supposed to laugh?"

Why is he so insecure? And so unsure of everything? It's like god spared him from influence of the outside world. He doesn't have a mask. He's not plastic. Why? How?

"You laugh at whatever you want kid. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Don't let anyone make you put on a mask.

The cab stopped and the driver held out his greasy hand for his twenty bucks. I shoved it into his hand and pulled the guy out of the door and onto the street. He barely managed to get out before the driver sped off like a maniac down the street. Asshole.

"Alright, what's the room number? You obviously can't go up by yourself." I helped him walk to the door of the apartment complex. I never liked apartments. I liked houses. They had a more sense of security than just a small room with crammed in furniture.

"It's...it's...oh god I can't remember...I'm sorry." He face palmed himself. I pushed open the double doors and guided him in. Wow. This place is nice. There's even a bell hop or whatever those guys are called.

"Lets ask the guy in the suit then." I walked him over to the front desk, but the the guy didn't even look up when we walked up.

"Hey, he forgot his apartment keys. Can you get him some more?" I think it'd make the poor guy less embarrassed if I just said he forgot the keys and didn't forget his apartment number.

The bellhop looked up, and his eyes showed recognition when he saw the kid. "Jordan? Are you okay? What happened?"

Jordan? Is that his name?

"I'm fine it's cool, I just went a little overboard with the guys..." Jordan shrugged.

"Oh okay then. Well I'll give you the spare key, but you have to bring it back tomorrow."

"That's fine. Thanks Vincent." Jordan smiled weakly at him, and Vincent smiled back. He handed him the key, which had the apartment number on it, and we left the lobby.

"Uh, have a good nights rest!" Vincent called as we went into the elevator. The doors closed before Jordan could say anything else.

Silence as we went up, floor after floor. He lived on the 7th floor of the building and the elevator was painfully slow.

"So you got a crush on that Vincent guy?" I blurted out. I know it's none of my damn business, but I just want to know. He was practically raping Jordan with his eyes.

"I used to," was all he said. I sort of expected him to say back off, but he didn't.

"Why don't you anymore?"

"He's just...wearing a mask. Like you said before."

The doors opened before I could ask him anything else. Vincent seemed real. I wonder what kind of mask he was wearing.

We walked down to the end of the hallway where his room was. Damn even the hallways are nice. He must be rich to live in a place like this. He opened up the room with a shaky hand and opened the door.

Yup. He's gotta be rich.

The place was huge. Everything was clean, everything neat, nothing out of place. It didn't even look like a human being was living here. This guy must always be out of his house.

He sighed when we walked in and laid down on his couch. Great to be home after puking your soul I guess.

"Well...I guess I should leave now."

He sat up immediately with wide eyes "No!"

I wanted to laugh at his eagerness for me to stay. Maybe he's starting to get a little crush on me.

Suck it Vincent.

"I mean, uh...can you stay a little longer? You know...just for a little while?" He started playing with his hoodie strings again. He must do that when he's worried about something.

"Fine. But you gotta answer all the questions I'm about to ask you and your pimp life. Seriously, are you rich or something? I can barely pay rent with two roommates and you can afford this?" I sat on the couch opposite of his and propped my feet up on his table.

He didn't pay it any attention. He kept fiddling with those strings. "I'm not rich...I don't like to think that I am anyways."

"Stop being a shy ass and tell me why you're well off. I'm not gonna bite you like a dog infested with rabies."

He laughed again, and finally had the courage to look me in the eyes while he spoke. "I have a pretty interesting job."

"...you a stripper?"

"No! God no...I'm a Youtuber. I post gaming videos and make money from them."

"You make money off being a cheeky nerd?"

"Pretty much. It's a cool job."

"Well aren't you just a perfect kid?" I rolled my eyes. He's got a perfect life. Plastics and masks are my top pet peeves, but rich snobs are retry high up too. Why did James even try to set me up with this guy? He's clearly just a over achiever that didn't get what he wanted and had to have someone hold his hand in order to fix everything.

"I really wish you'd stop calling me a kid..." he muttered. He looked down when I confronted him with my eyes.

"Why? You are a kid. You still in high school?" He's probably younger than seventeen.

He got mad at this. "Didn't you tell the driver you were twenty-two when we got in? I'm twenty-four years old. I'm older than you Tom. I should be calling you kid."

"Twenty-four?! You look sixteen! You can't handle alcohol and you're older than me?!"

"I never drink. I don't do anything that could lead to a downhill spiral of horrible things. My friends just pressured me into it and I was too much of a wimp to say no so..."

"So you're saying anyone who drinks will go downhill and lead to being horrible people?" I could hear the anger in my own voice. Jeez I'm just a ray of sunshine with my bipolar attitude.

"No I'm saying I don't want to end up like my dad," he hissed at me.

Oops. Okay so I crossed the line. Maybe he's not perfect. Family isn't something I should mess with anyway.

"...I'm sorry Jordan."

"Yeah well...I never got to know him well anyway. He left before-...oh god it's coming back." He slapped a hand over his mouth and ran to the hallway.

Should I help him? I made things really awkward. Why am I so damn bipolar?

Okay. Different approach. I like this guy and I need him to not hate me. What can I do to achieve that goal? Oh god this is like high school all over again. I hate setting goals. Health and P.E. has taught me nothing. Remember what James said. Be nice and polite. Be like James, but less weird and mysterious. Seriously that guy is creepy sometimes.

I took his path down the hallway and followed the sounds of yaking. Once again, he was gripping his toilet bowl for dear life.

Dammit even his bathroom is amazing.

Okay. Act like James, be nice. What would James do if he saw me puking? Well usually he'd just make a joke about it because it was me throwing up. No, Jordan's different. Be nice be nice be nice.

"Do you need stuff?"

Shit.

He shook his head a little, so I guess that meant no.

Yeah he does. He's not gonna stop throwing up if he doesn't get a pill in him or something.

I opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and looked for anything that could stop the flow of vomit. Tums suck, Advil doesn't work, all of these other pills are generic so they're next to useless. I think I might actually have acid reducers in my wallet. Tucker always made me put a few in there in case I start puking in his car one day. I pulled out my wallet and took out the few tiny pills in the back of the fold.

"Alright Jordan, if you can pull your sorry self together for a few seconds I can help out."

He raised up from the seat with an exhausted look on his face. "Anything..."

"Swallow these." I held out the pills in my hand, but he just looked at them funny. He doesn't trust me.

"Take the damn pills you miserable shit. I'm not gonna drug and murder you. I care about you and I don't want you to be like this anymore."

He smiled a little and took the pills from my hand. "Get...me some water?" His asked with a raspy voice. I nodded and went to find his kitchen. It wasn't that hard to find considering everything in the apartment was connected. I found a cup from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water, and then I brought it back to him.

He did what I said and took the pills, but I could tell he was on the verge of puking again by the way he was clutching the sink.

"Don't puke. The pills won't work if you do."

He nodded slowly and tried taking deep breaths. For awhile we just stood there leaning on the sink, staring at the floor and waiting for the puke to stop.

All of the sudden, his cheeks started getting red. And redder. And redder. To so red they were almost crimson. He made a weird face and crossed his legs. "Tom...what kind of pills were those?"

"Acid reducers. Why? Don't trust me? I told you I'm not gonna do anything bad to you."

"No it's just...I feel really weird."

"Weird how?"

"Um..." His blush was getting darker with every minute. What the hell is going on with him?

"Come on, spit it out," I pressed him. He needs to stop being so shy, it's annoying.

"I can't-...Oh my god..." He crossed his legs as far as they could go and made a whining noise.

"Dude what? Just say it. Does your stomach hurt or something? Why are your crossing your legs?"

"Tom those were not acid reducers. What did you give me?"

"I gave you acid reducers. My roommate gave them to me in case...wait a second."
I faintly remember Tucker grinning when he gave me those pills. That bastard gave me something else.

"Jordan do you have a phone?" I need to call that absolute bastard.

"Yeah...in the living room..."

"I'll be right back."

As soon as I found his landline I punched in Tucker's number. He answered on the first few rings.

"Hello?"

"Tucker it's Tom. Those acid reducers aren't acid reducers. What in the hell did you give me?"

I heard him sigh tiredly on the other end. "Dude I gave them to you so you could have a fun time. You've been acting so depressed lately. I thought it would help."

"What. Did. You. Give me?" I seethed, gritting my teeth.

"It's just ecstacy."

Oh my god.

"You gave me ecstacy? I just gave them to this poor sick dude and they were ecstacy?!"

"I didn't know you were gonna give them out! Just give him some lotion and some tissues and the problem is solved."

"When I get home your ass is mine," I growled.

"Whatever. I'm going back to bed." And then he hung up.

Jordan is on ecstacy. This could not have gone any worse.

I walked back to the bathroom, where Jordan was still sitting on the sink with his legs crossed as tight as they could and his eyes clenched shut.

"Jordan...I'm so sorry. My bastard of a roommate thought it would be funny to give me ecstacy and call them acid reducers."

His eyes shot open and he stared at me angrily. "Ecstacy?! Are you kidding me?!"

"Look dude I didn't know-"

"No, shut up! You did know and you tricked me into taking them, didn't you?! You just wanted to drug me and force me to have sex with you...you don't care about me...no one does." He drew his knees up and buried his face in them.

"Jordan I do care about you, and I didn't drug you on purpose. Stop crying. It's fixable."

"How do I know you didn't do it on purpose? Why else would you be helping me? Wag obviously wanted you to hook up with me..."

"Because Wag worries about me. He's afraid I'll end up dying from alcohol poisoning in some alleyway and no one will find me because no one will care enough to search for me. He just wants me to find someone and be happy. You're nice and you like my jokes, so I guess he thought you'd be good for me. And I do like you enough to where I'd love to take you on a bunch of dates and then hump the shit out of you when you're ready. Just sayin'..."

That is the closet thing to a love confession I'll ever get to. Jordan laughed a little, and finally looked up from his knees. "So you like me?" He sniffled.

"Yeah I do. And right now I'd love nothing more than to get rid of your problem down there. But I won't because we met no less than two hours ago and you would probably think I was creepy asking you that."

He smiled shyly and looked down at his shoes. "What if I asked you?"

"Then I'd say hell yeah let's get it on."

His eyes widened. "No! I meant on a date!"

"Oh. Then I'd say hell yeah let's go."

He laughed quietly and began playing with his hoodie strings again. "Would you maybe want to spend the night with me?"

I slid over to the sink and smoothly wrapped an arm around his waist. "Yes I would very much like to do that."

He grinned. "Then start humping the shit out of me hot stuff."
~~~