Alex didn't usually smoke. He preferred alcohol, if he had to choose a drug to consume. Weed was never really his first choice, to be honest, because if he drank, he did a lot of it, and usually he didn't have to think as much as he normally did.

He wouldn't get as sad, or paranoid, or depressed when he drank. He wouldn't get so confused and worried. He'd just turn into a dumb jock with a peanut for a brain, and sometimes he'd get a little violent, but usually only towards himself. Which was fine, actually, totally fine. He preferred that over weed.

Because when he got high, his brain became thirty times bigger, actually. And wrinklier. And he'd have so many more thoughts, and he'd discover the secrets of the world, and that was actually really fucking depressing. And sometimes, as he discovered the truth, the knowledge no man should carry, he'd also be faced with the reality of how fucking horrible his life was, and how pathetic he was, and how terrible it was that he preferred getting shitfaced drunk to be reduced to nothing but an angry husk of himself over smoking and having his brain work just a little more than usual.

That didn't change anything today. There he was, on the roof of the little shelter, a crumbling ruin next to an empty, overgrown outdoor pool, somewhere in who the fuck knows where, in a fucking forest. There he was, despite his fear of thinking, and Margo passed him that fucking joint, and he didn't even think about declining.

Smoking with Margo wasn't as bad, actually, he had to admit that. Well, it was bad, but in a different way. Whatever weed Wayne or Min or whoever the fuck were offering him at parties and shit was the mean kind, the eldritch horror kind. Margo, however, had access to this magical strain called "Therapy for Alex". It didn't make him feel like a wizard staring right into a crystal ball filled with horrors. It made him feel like a guy with issues and loving friends that were willing to listen to him. Again, this also was a bad thing.

Alex didn't really know anything about weed. He'd never bothered to look into it. He just put all his trust into Margo, who always had the good shit. Of course, she had the good shit. She was dutch. She had to know. One of her aunts literally ran a coffee shop in Amsterdam. Yeah, cliché, absolutely. But whatever.

It still was the good shit. And as a bonus, it made his pain go away. Not in a dramatic emotional way. The back pain. The back pain he's always had, the pain he started to forget about because it's always there and it's a part of his body. And the neck pain. Turns out there was a lot of pain in his body, and weed helped, but he didn't tell anyone that. Not yet. Not until he had his issues all worked out and he could smoke without the fear of spiralling into depression holes.

Lani held the joint in her hands, her terrifyingly long fingers, stared at it, then stared at Alex, then stared at Margo. Lani was more of a drinker as well. Not as much as Alex. No, actually, just as much as Alex, but she was less horrible about it. She was good at controlling herself. Even drunk. And she was awfully good at pretending to be sober when she needed to. She often fell quiet when she got drunk. And even more quiet when she was high, until she got unbearably chatty. Who knew what she was seeing.

"Are you fine, Alex?" Lani now asked, still holding the joint between her fingers.

"Why wouldn't I?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. Just wanted to make sure."

Apparently he'd been convincing enough. She shrugged, and her hesitation dropped. Sometimes she'd be the responsible friend to stay sober. Not today. Which was fine. Really, it was.

Alex leaned back, laying down on the cold, hard concrete roof. The sky was grey, a deeper one than earlier that day. Darker. Rain, probably, soon. Clouds passed over him, a thick colourless blanket over the sky, passing quickly. Maybe a storm. He could stay here and be rained on and maybe be hit by lightning. Alex took a deep breath, and it smelled like fall, and rain, and weed, and pines.

He tried to relax. This was meant to be relaxing, wasn't it? To be calming. He wasn't sure how relaxing cold air biting his skin and sharp pieces of gravel poking the back of his head really could be. The wind blew stronger, as it had the right to do, in the middle of October. Alex shivered.

"It's cold," Margo concluded.

"It's nice," Lani added, because of course she did. You could've locked her into a freezer and she would've loved it. She'd taken off her long black coat a while ago to instead just sit there in her just as black knit sweater and even blacker velvet skirt.

Margo, on the other hand, shivered. Of course, she was half as tall as Lani, and had five times less fat than her. She'd crawled underneath the coat her friend had discarded, and it did look quite hilarious on her. Alex thought of Youngbin in his sweater.

No, fuck, not yet. Not now. He couldn't think about Youngbin already. Not when he was about to be hit with the special look into Alex' brain weed. But it was too late, really. When hadn't he been thinking of Youngbin? Had there been, in the past week or so, a single moment in which Alex wasn't thinking about Youngbin? Thinking about-

No, no. No, not now, calm the fuck down, Alex. Calm your gay ass down and think about something else, or someone. Anything. He let out a groan of frustration, maybe louder than it should've been.

"Are you really alright?"

"Yeah," he lied as best as he could. "I'm just- My back hurts." Not a lie, technically. Not the reason for his agony, though. But not a lie.

Margo held the joint up to his nose again, an unreadable expression on her face.

“You’ll get better.” Alex didn’t believe that, but it wasn’t like he could deny. Or wanted to, actually. He took a drag and already felt better. Not really, actually, he felt like shit, it tasted like shit, but at least there was a chance he wouldn’t feel as shit in a couple of minutes. Hopefully. He decided to not overdo it, for now, though his decisions often changed, especially on drugs.

“How’d your exams go, by the way?” Lani asked between coughs. Out of all of them, she sucked at smoking the most.

“Fuck-“ Alex closed his eyes. “Why’d you remind me?” He had, in fact, forgotten the horror that was today's maths exam. Absolute dogshit. Probably the reason why Margo had invited him here in the first place. To smoke the bad grade away. Thankfully he had lost all memory of it as soon as he had left the classroom, early that was, because he didn’t know shit and had decided that giving up was the right choice.

“Decent, honestly.” Margo stretched her arms out into the air, moving her fingers one by one. Rosy skin with black painted nails against grey sky. “Expected it to go a lot worse.”

“Did you study?”

“Eugh,” Margo made in response to Alex, how dare he even ask. “Do I look like it?”

“Right. Forgot you’re not as stupid as me.”

“Don’t start with the self pity already, Alex, I’m not high enough to deal with you yet.”

He just hummed in response, then sat up again, rubbing his back and dusting off the little pieces of gravel that had pierced themselves through the back of his leather jacket. Ouch.

A cold gust of wind hit his face, icy cold, sharp, almost painful. In the distance, thunder announced the arrival of a storm, and the trees rustled as if to welcome it. Somewhere, something cracked, and fell, and crashed into the forest floor. Alex felt weirdly connected to that fallen dead branch that couldn’t stand the gentle yet violent weight of the wind anymore.

Maybe he was high already. Maybe he just was like that. Stange and poetic in all the wrong moments.

“Should we go home, maybe? Before it starts raining?” Margo seemed like the only one concerned.

“I wanna get soaked,” Lani replied.

“I wanna get hit by lightning,” Alex replied.

“Well, fuck, sure. You guys do that. Sounds great.” Margo wasn’t the biggest fan of storms, Alex knew that. Understandable, though, with a size like hers, you’d simply easily get blown away by a single gust of wind too strong. Her nervousness was written right into her small face, brows furrowed, sky blue eyes gazing towards the clouds.

But Alex, personally, felt like a little bit of an asshole, and also like ignoring Margo’s fears for once. There was just something about lying on a concrete roof surrounded by trees, during a storm, and also while high. Right, when did that shit kick in again?

As much as Alex wanted to ignore his friends' needs for the sake of his own fantasies about being swallowed by the forest, Lani was, unfortunately, a bit kinder and a little more caring.

“Yeah, we should probably head home.” Her voice was always so gentle when talking to Margo. Alex almost envied her. Then again, that harsh love was exactly what he needed, and exactly what he got.

“Move your ass, you can get hit by lightning in our garden.” Not as gentle as she should’ve, Lani lightly kicked Alex’ leg with her massive boots in an attempt to make him get up. Alex sighed, as dramatically as he could, and looked towards the sky, just as dramatically. Perhaps the storm was quicker than them. Perhaps it would catch them on their way home.

The good thing about leaving Shithole Haven that early was that they could make their way back to Lani’s house rather safely. The walk only took half an hour, roughly, and they’d walked that way so many times, yet getting out of the forest while the high hadn’t kicked in just yet was probably a better idea.

The bad thing was that by the time they actually arrived, it had started. The dizziness first, it’d become a little difficult to walk straight. Then he’d feel it in his eyes, a dryness, they were begging for him to close them. Alex, of course, could not close them. Not yet. Oh, but he was thinking about it, certainly. His steps had become heavy, sinking into the concrete that’d become softer, deeper, like snow. He could lie down here. He probably shouldn’t, but he thought about it. A lot.

By the time Lani opened the door (or tried to, but the key no longer fit until Margo held it in her hands), the concrete had been yelling at him to come lie down. But he knew that Lani’s bed, huge, fluffy, with enough space for all three of them, was yelling even louder from upstairs.

Alex knew the way to Lani’s room. Lani’s room was also kind of his own room. Used to be, at least, when he still lived with his parents. Now he had his own room. But Lani’s room was still his either way. Her bed was his as well. He’d slept in there countless times. Or passed out, maybe. He felt like passing out on it again.

Alex kicked off his boots, threw his leather jacket down, and let himself fall. He fell deep, and long, and for a couple of seconds he thought that maybe he would never hit the ground. He did, eventually. The ground, or the mattress in that case, was soft and instantly swallowed him whole.

He closed his eyes, just to rip them open again when his body began spinning in the dark, doing a couple of flips and turns, and as soon as his eyes were open, the mattress had placed itself back underneath his body.

Something shifted next to him, and he thought about the time Youngbin was lying down next to him. When he’d traced his fingers over Alex’ skin. When he held his hand. When he fell asleep. But it was Margo. It was just Margo.

She said something. Alex didn’t listen. Lani also said something.

“What?” Alex asked.

“I said I’ll get snacks, dumbass.”

“Nice.” He nodded, his head heavy, and he had to use every muscle in his body to keep that movement up. “Something to drink too.” His mouth started to dry. He licked his lips. Not that that helped.

“‘Kay, come and get something with me then. What do you want?”

Alex blinked, slowly, and his lids felt heavier every time he moved them.

“Jesus, you’re out of it already. What the fuck is wrong with you.”

“Everything,” someone answered, and it wasn’t Lani, nor was it Margo. Maybe it was Alex. Who the fuck knew.

“Got it. Water, then.”

“Water,” he replied. There was enough water already, outside, the rain was pleasantly drumming against the windows, and underneath him. Lani’s bed was a waterbed. Probably. He wasn’t sure if it had always been one.

“Can’t get up?”

“Nah.”

“I see. Cool. I’ll be right back then.”

Margo was so good at this. At weed. She was a very skilled weed smoker. Probably because she’d been doing that since birth, or maybe before. And she was basically high all the time. Unless she was sleeping. Or maybe especially when she was sleeping. She was an insomniac, maybe. Maybe because of all the weed. Maybe despite all of the weed. But she just functioned really well. Not Alex. He had stopped functioning. Lying down was too nice.

Margo had teleported away already, and now Alex was left alone, with Lani, and she was somewhere in the room. Alex wasn’t sure where exactly, until he felt her sit down at the head of the bed. He tried his very hardest to roll over to face her.

She sat there, and looked a bit sad. She looked sad most of the time. She kind of wanted that, didn’t she? That’s what her makeup was for, to look sad and maybe a bit dead. How strange that she found happiness in sadness. Life in death. Light in darkness. Alex blinked, slowly, one time, two times, a third time.

She wasn’t actually wearing makeup right now. It was just her face that was sad. Or tired, he couldn’t tell.

Maybe she just looked like that. It was rare for her to not wear makeup. Her eyes looked a lot smaller, her lips were thinner. She looked less pale. She looked like a regular ass person. Just some girl, with strangely cut V-shaped bangs. Alex didn’t like when she looked normal. It didn’t suit her. Didn’t suit any of them, actually. He grinned. He was only ever drawn to the freaks. Even before they reveal that they’re freaks.

Lani tilted her head when she caught Alex looking.

“What.”

“Would you be best friends with me if I was normal?”

She furrowed her thin, makeupless brows.

“Probably not.”

“Cool.” He dragged the word out for some reason.

“Are you always this bad when we smoke?”

“No, I’m just worse today.”

“Got it.”

Worse meant better in this case. Everything went a little slower. A little more relaxed. A little better than usual. When everything rushed past him like a full speed train, when everything happened all at once, when the ground beneath his feet told him to run. The ground beneath him now told him to stay. He did so. His body was flat against the mattress, melting into it, spreading out.

It was good like this.

Alex deeply inhaled, sucking air through his dry mouth. He grinned again. Or still. He was smiling, was the point.

Margo appeared again, threw a bag of chips at him, then another bag of something else, Alex couldn’t really see what it was. Then something else. Then she put down a water bottle next to him. At least she didn’t throw it. Though he certainly would’ve been able to catch it.

She sat down on the floor, watched Alex struggle to sit up to take a sip of water, then rip open a bag of chips to stuff a handful into his mouth immediately. They tasted dry and a little spicy, but mostly just really fucking dry. He had another sip of water. Another chip.

“How are we feeling?” Margo asked.

Lani shrugged, then sighed, then let out something that could’ve been the start of a giggle.

“I don’t get it. The high stuff, I mean. I don’t feel so much. I mean, I feel something, but like, honestly, kinda boring.”

“You just wanna act cool, come on.” Margo’s voice was gentle as well. Weirdly loving. Fuck that. Nobody ever talked to Alex like this. Except, of course-

“No, really.” Lani’s eyes widened. She looked very serious. “I don’t get it. Everything’s really normal except it’s not that normal, kinda.” She smiled. Lani had a really nice smile. She didn’t do it a lot though. Sometimes she did. And it was really nice when she did.

Margo said something, but Alex stopped listening. Lani replied. Margo said something else. Lani replied again. Whatever. Alex closed his eyes, and didn’t mind the flips his body was now doing. He reached into the general direction of the chips bag. Somewhere, thunder rolled, and lightning struck. It could’ve struck him, but he was here, inside Lani’s house. How boring.

He wondered what a lightning strike felt like. Must’ve been like love, perhaps. Something zapping through your entire body. Something paralysing and painful, something very short, something warm. No, love didn’t feel like that. Alex didn’t know what it was like. He’d made an attempt to not feel it as much. Or to ignore its symptoms. But maybe lightning was like that. Like love. One time, he saw someone piss against an electric fence. He laughed and opened his eyes again.

“What?”

“Imagine getting your dick struck by lightning.”

Lani’s face twisted, Margo nodded.

“New bottom surgery.”

And Alex laughed more. It wasn’t that funny. Margo made that joke about everything. It was kind of hilarious, though. The thunderstorm hung directly over Lani’s house, and lightning struck, and something out there must’ve been feeling love right now.

Something moved, Lani got up from the bed, and walked towards the record player she had lovingly set up in one corner of her room. And then- music, low pitched and ominous and swallowing Alex whole. Lani relaxed to that kind of stuff. To buzzing basslines and saddening voices and the promise of death. Sometimes Alex could get behind that. He wasn’t sure if he could today.

“How are things with Youngbin?” Lani’s voice had become lower as well, as if to match the singer's tone.

Shit. Fucking horrible. Awful. He wanted to scream and cry and throw himself into a river.

“I think I kind of really like him,” a voice answered. Lani huffed, hummed. Margo didn’t. She froze. Shit. No. Wait. “As you do. When you date. You know.”

“You do?” Margo whispered, but Lani’s giggle was louder.

“Yeah. I’d hope so.”

That’s not good, Alex thought.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Never mind. He had said it out loud.

“Because-“ Shit. No. Why wasn’t it good? Many reasons. A couple too many reasons. It was so bad. This was so fucking bad. He fell back again, his eyes, heavy and dry and tired, fell shut. Something moved around him. His head started to hurt. There was something hiding in the dark around him now. Lurking. Like a fucking ghost.

This was so bad.

“I like him,” Alex started, his voice sounded faint, out of breath, scared, perhaps, just a bit, like a realisation. It wasn’t like this was anything new to him. He’d known. He’d known for way too fucking long. He’d ignored it as best as he could and called it a fly, but a fly doesn’t survive this long. It wasn’t a single fly, it was a thousand bugs all over him like he was a cadaver, decaying, disappearing into the ground, like Alex was doing right now.

He’d known for so long. He’d known this entire fucking time. He’d known since Youngbin first kissed him. When he looked him in the eyes and said ‘kiss me’, a request so earnest and determined. And then their lips had separated and Alex wanted to fucking die.

He laughed, because he couldn’t cry. His eyes were too dry for tears to come out of them. He laughed, because it really was laughable. Because this was a bad joke. Because he was an absolute fucking clown. His chest hurt, and he wanted to stop laughing because it echoed in his lungs but he couldn’t really. Maybe this was right. Maybe hurting was what he deserved.

He was lying. Alex was lying to Youngbin.

He was lying to him. He was using him. He was betraying him. He was breaking his trust. He’d broken the rules, over and over again.

Number four. No touching below the chest. But he’d touched his waist, so many damn times. His thigh. His back. He’d touched him, and his hands ached to do it again.

Number five. No kisses. But he’d kissed him. On the lips. Twice. And they replayed in his mind all the time. The taste lingered on his lips, still.

Number six. No sexualisation. But he’d- Fuck. Alex would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit it. If he denied ever thinking about kissing him again, longer, harder, more and more and everywhere. Oh, how awful he was for that. For wanting to taste his lips and his skin and his blood, for wanting to tear into him like a dog, or be torn into, for wanting him to sink his teeth into him.

Alex craved his touch, his unstained hands to touch every inch of Alex’ dirty, muddy, bloody, unworthy body. This was the truth, bitter and unsavoury, and right now, Alex felt as though he needed to die for it. For the sin of desiring someone that did not and could not want him back.

How fucking dare he be like this. Use Youngbin’s closeness like this, his trust, his friendship, how dare he take his affection and twist it into hunger. How dare Alex love Youngbin in ways he was too good for, in dirty and pathetic and bloody ways.

And he couldn’t even tell him. All he could do was lie, and abuse the trust Youngbin had given him.

Was he still laughing?

“He died.”

“Fuck, he might’ve.”

“You killed Alex.”

“Maybe he fell asleep.”

“Forever.”

“Don’t be like that…”

“Where do we bury him?”

“Lani, he’s not dead.”

“He’s been passed out for at least an hour.”

“It’s been two minutes.”

“Fuck if I know. Your weed makes me lose track of time.”

“I thought you didn’t notice shit?”

“Shut up or I’ll kiss you on the lips.”

“That’s a new one. But also Alex is dying.”

“This isn’t about him.”

His eyes opened. It could’ve been an hour. Maybe a year since he had closed them. It probably was just two minutes. What Alex assumed to be the same song was still playing, a scratchy and dusty sound that echoed muffled in his ears, slightly distorted, and he wasn’t sure if it was the vinyl itself that sounded shit, or if Alex’ brain just couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

“Alive again,” Lani noted, and Alex thought he could hear a tone of disappointment in her voice. He didn’t have to be alive right now. He didn’t feel like it, at least.

“Are you alright?” Margo’s face was blurred, and far away, somewhere between thunderclouds, but her expression was worried. She knew. She’d read his thoughts, as she did so many times, read his sins like a letter to god, she’d seen the future, every possible one, and she knew Alex was going to die in each of them.

Margo was a wizard of sorts. She knew what Alex was thinking, always, and sometimes she could fly and summon trees to grow out of solid ground and shoot fireballs and turn water to wine. Was Jesus a wizard as well?

“Alex?”

“Yeah,” he answered. The question was long forgotten. “I’m hungry.”

“But are you okay?” Her voice was lowered and faint and knowing. She didn’t have to ask, she had the answer already.

“I like him,” Alex said. Maybe he didn’t say it, maybe he just mouthed it, he couldn’t quite hear his own voice. She could hear him anyway.

“I- Well.” Margo nodded, her head moving in slow motion, blurring as she did so. “Yeah. It came to be like that.” The way she said it. She knew. She knew everything. She was a kind of god, watching over the world and all her creations, and she watched them start to kill themselves off. With sadness in her eyes, she let her world decay. She had no choice but to let Alex rot. It wasn’t like she could’ve done anything about it, just pray for it to not happen when it was already too late.

The moment Alex was given free will, it was too late.

“Is it bad to like your boyfriend now, or-” Lani snorted, giggled, her voice low and deep, lower than usual. She was oblivious to the world burning around her.

“He might not be… as ready to love someone as he thought.” Now there it was, a gentleness in Margo’s voice that was usually reserved for Lani only. She took pity. She knew the stray dog's desire to devour, and still pitied him.

“I have like, no idea what’s happening right now, but like, sorry that happened. Or congrats.” Lani leaned back, grabbed one of the other bags that Margo had thrown onto the bed ages ago, and shoved a handful of cheetos into her mouth. Oh, cheetos. Alex extended his hand and Lani dropped some into it.

Nice. Spicy. Not the flaming hot ones. Just regular. Cheesy and crunchy. And a little spicy. Alex’ mouth felt like a desert, dusty now, hot, dry, and he made it worse because he ate more, but also, how was he supposed to stop. It was an automated motion, to hold out his hand, wait for Lani to grace him with more cheetos, then to let them fall into his mouth. A cycle. Addiction, mercy, pain. Margo still sat there, but she’d fallen silent. Accepted it. Alex’ fate, and her own. The fate of humanity.

Lani’s voice echoed from somewhere. Someone had pressed a button to make her sound slower and distorted. Her voice was a nice buzz, steady, sometimes interrupted by a giggle. She’d talked about- What exactly? Fugi, maybe. She did that at times. Mushrooms doing their things. Growing. Being.

Taking over. Being. They were. They were the world. They were the all. They were gods. They had the form of every being on earth. They formed hell. They knew everything.

Like Toad.

Alex laughed.

Was Toad a mushroom?

Margo had passed him a joint again some time ago. She did that again. He was so fucking bad at smoking. So was Lani. Probably worse than him. She coughed, and smoke came out of her mouth like fire out of a dragon.

“That sucked,” her voice said, still slow.

“‘Cause you’re shit at smoking. You can’t even handle a cig.” Alex rolled around on the bed, or boat, maybe it was a boat on the ocean, it moved like one.

Alex, personally, was a social smoker. But not at all. Seven times out of ten, he refused a cigarette when offered. The other three times, he wouldn’t finish it. It sucked. It burned. It scratched. It felt icky and not at all relaxing like everyone said. Despite his addictive personality (which meant that everyone was in love with him and addicted to him), he was not a smoker of cigarettes, unless it would be too uncool to refuse one.

“They call it a fag in england,” Lani said, and she sounded so smart. “To suck on a fag.”

“I don’t think they say it like that.”

“No, they do. You want to suck on a fag.”

“Alright I do.” Alex continued to roll over. The sea was stormy tonight. Some time ago, the music had stopped playing. There was only rain. It didn’t seem to stop any time soon.

“Australians call it fuck stick.”

“You’re just lying to me now.”

“No, I’d never-” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Lani laughed, like Alex had never heard her laugh before, and Margo looked up at her, and Alex thought that he just understood what Youngbin had said a couple of days ago.

That look. Like you’re in love. Like you adore someone with your whole heart. That face you make. Margo made it at Lani right now. Like something finally started to make sense, like someone had opened the door to a basement you’d been trapped in for the first time.

Alex looked like that as well. At Youngbin. How disgusting. How shameful. It was cute when Margo did it. Not when Alex did.

He looked away, but then saw his own face in the dark walls staring at him with eyes of love and adoration. Maybe there was desire in there, somewhere. Lust. Hunger. But mostly love. And fear. Which seemed to be the same. For Alex, it was the same.

He rolled again, and then, for a few minutes, he fell. Slowly, like a feather, he was gliding off a cliff that went down into infinity, long enough for him to grow wings on his back. Falling, falling, falling. When it ended, would it hurt? Would he notice all his bone cracking, or would his body simply shut off before the impact? Would he land? Ever? At all? Would he die from hunger first? Thirst? Loneliness? Would he be given the honour of dying at a-

Thump.

Alex landed on Lani’s bedroom floor, in one piece, alive. It didn’t hurt. Maybe Lani’s laughter did, just a little bit, so loud and honest. Maybe his own did hurt too, in his ears, but mostly in his lungs and his stomach. He rolled further, onto his back, on the floor, cold and hard and like a piece of his own body, he melted into the floor.

It was fine. It was fine. Perhaps this was better. Maybe, if he had to choose a drug, it would be laughing at nothing, and rotting away at the thought of loving someone, and laughing regardless.

Kerning

Chapter 19 - I FEEL NUMB, IS THAT A FEELING?

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