Consummate Host

It would be four of them at the concert; Kevin, Pablo, Anthony and Marshall.  Marshall drove in from Dallas Friday evening after he got out of work, arriving at Kevin’s place around 8:30, where the other three had already filled themselves up with pepperoni pizza and were 20-30% of the way to drunk on bottled IPAs and stouts from local microbrews and a shot of Captain Morgan each.  First hugs are exchanged.

“Hey guys, already getting frothy?”

“We’ve got a little froth going on.  You want some pizza man?”

“What I need is a shot, what are you guys drinking?  Oh, Captain Morgan, nice!  Hit me up!”  It feels forced, like a high school kid reading lines for a musical he’s been pressured to perform in because they can’t get enough males to fill all the roles.  But it might be sincere.  It’s getting hard to tell with Marshall these days.

“Yeah man it’s right here, you want a shot glass?”

“Aren’t you guys gonna do one with me?”

“I’m out,” says Pablo.  “I gotta pace myself, I’m already feeling that last one.”  His complexion doesn’t lie.  

“Yeah, I guess I can do one with you.”  Kevin, the consummate host, pours glasses of orange juice and sets them beside the shots to use as chaser.  “Anthony, you in?”

“Ehh, why not.”

“Alright, to a crazy night with the chumps!” Clink.  Then; “I’ve really been missing you guys.  It’s been pretty lonely up in Dallas by myself.”

“Yeah man, well we’re glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for the extra ticket, by the way.  You sure you don’t want anything for it?”

“I mean, don’t worry about it, I got them for free anyway.”  Kevin got the tickets from a coworker who couldn’t make it.  The ‘extra ticket’ was supposed to be for Julian, who was supposed to be visiting from California, but his flight got cancelled for a reason the airline was unwilling to disclose, and upon this afternoon’s posting on the facebook chat most if not all groups of college friends maintain with steadily declining enthusiasm in the years following graduation, Marshall made explicit that provided the ticket went unclaimed, he’d make the drive down to Austin for a night of drink and merriment with his old chumps.  Unclaimed it went, and here we are.

The next forty-five minutes sees Marshall eat three slices of pizza; Kevin win back to back games of sangria rage cage; Anthony try on four and a half of Kevin’s shirts before deciding on one he likes, which he subsequently spills beer on, prompting a change back to his own shirt; Pablo detail the growing levels of passive aggression at his office stemming from a frustrated HR department Re: the growing levels of passive aggression between the custodial staff and the nocturnally inclined mid-level management; Kevin relinquish DJ duties so that Anthony can play some new post-rock album he’s been digging; Pablo commandeer said duties while Anthony is busy changing shirts in favor of Calvin Harris, who they pretty much all dig, mostly for nostalgic reasons; Marshall go on at length about how great Austin is and how he’s been applying to scores of tech jobs here; Kevin wipe down the table following rage cage; Anthony commandeer Pablo’s phone while Pablo is in the bathroom to swipe right on a bunch of Grindr profiles, most of whom Pablo probably would have swiped right on anyway; Marshall attempting to wrestle a bewildered Pablo into submission upon mistaking a playful shoe as a provocation of quasi-playful feats of strength; Kevin forcibly pull Marshall from Pablo; Marshall apologize to Pablo, who brushes it off as miscommunication; Marshall insist they all take a shot to officially make amends; Pablo decline said shot; and Kevin brusquely wipe down the toilet seat and bathroom floor with countless paper towels and a bottle of tile-cleaning spray after an unfortunate but somewhat expected spell of Marshall’s only semi-accurate vomiting.

This is what each boy drank during that same forty-five minute period:

• Kevin: 3 shots of Captain Morgan, 2 bottles of stout, 4 cups of sangria
• Anthony: 2 shots of Captain Morgan,1 bottle of IPA, 6 cups of sangria
• Pablo: 1 shot of Captain Morgan, ½ bottle of stout, 7 cups of sangria
• Marshall: 4 shots of Captain Morgan, 2 shots of Jäger, 1 bottle of IPA, 2 cans of Frio Light*, 11 cups of sangria

*Frio Light is a Texas-exclusive light beer, roughly equivalent in taste and price to Keystone Light**

**Keystone Light is a bottom shelf light beer brewed by Molson Coors, most popular in the Northeastern United States

 

Kevin calls the Uber and they’re off.  Kevin grabs shotgun while Marshall, Pablo and Anthony climb in the back, in that order.

“Man, I’ve really missed you guys.  I feel like Dallas just isn’t a good place to be a young professional.  Like Austin, YES!, Austin is so cool, there’s like so much going on here, and you guys are all here, I really gotta find a job here.  Then we could hang out all the time.  It’d be so sweet.”

“I feel like Dallas isn’t so bad once you get used to it and figure out where to go.”

“That’s the problem though, is that I can’t get used to it, it’s been forever tainted by causing me so much loneliness in my first year that I can never forgive it.  Even if the city becomes amazing I will never be able to enjoy it.”

“You should try Ft. Worth – a little smaller, way more friendly and accessible in my opinion.  That’s where I grew up.  And awesome barbeque!”  This is the Uber driver, Alana Lopez, Black 2014 Hyundai Sonata, license plate number B728NJM.  She is ignored.

“I just hate this system where we all have to live in an apartment by ourselves, and then get up in the morning and drive to these pointless jobs, where we sit slaving away at a computer in a little cubicle, and then drive back to our little apartments and jerk off and watch Netflix and numb ourselves with weed and alcohol and video games.  It’s not natural, it’s not how humans are supposed to live.”

Silence ensues.  Anthony and Pablo quite like their one bedrooms and find challenge and fulfillment at their respective daytime gigs.  Kevin bites out of the sympathy required of a consummate host.  “I mean, I agree that humans probably weren’t meant to sit at a desk 8 hours a day, but you can try to make up for it in other areas of your life, right?  Like you don’t have to just be alone, you can join a sports team or like try to get outdoors, volunteer?  I mean you’re right that it’s the way the system is set up now and you can’t change it, but you can always try and find as much meaning and excitement as you can in the other areas of your life, right?  It’s probably still better than like, the middle ages, when people were mostly poor and hungry and sick and had to worry about surviving.”  

“At least those people had excitement, had fear, had emotion, had passion.  My life has no passion.  I think we should be able to live in big communities with each other, like you and all your friends can all live together, and work on whatever interests you and drink together and hang out whenever you want, just like college, and no one has to be alone or slave away at some job they don’t care about.  Like why can’t we all just move in together and start a new business that does something cool and real and important?”

Anthony’s forehead is plastered to the window.  He’s trying to figure out about how much longer the car ride will be.  Kevin runs his hand through his hair, which he always does when he’s anxious or concerned, both of which he is right now.  Pablo is on his phone, reading a work email.  Marshall’s eyes look sad and hurt, almost like he might start crying at any moment.  His shoulders slump and his chin finds its way into his hands, elbows on knees.  Marshall, 6’6”, 235, looks within the cozy back corner of the Sonata like an early 20th century circus animal too large for its iron-barred cage.  Pablo looks up from his phone to survey the car’s location, and, noticing Marshall’s melancholy posture, gives him a pat on the knee and one of those ‘what are you gonna do?’ shrugs.  “I think you’ll come out of it, just give it some time.  You probably just need a change of scenery.”

“I don’t know… maybe you’re right.  Thanks Pablo.”  He pats Pablo on the knee.  Once, twice, three times.  The massive hand rests there, then squeezes Pablo’s knee tightly.  No one else in the car is looking at them.  The hand moves up only an inch or two and squeezes Pablo’s thigh.  Pablo smiles nervously and pulls his leg away.  Marshall doesn’t react.  He stares straight ahead at the back of Alana’s driver seat.  The car pulls up in front of the venue and everyone gets out.  

“Alright, how bout,” this is Kevin, sort of gathering everyone in, “we all try to set aside the discussion on jobs, because the whole point of tonight is to just have a frothy time with our friends and forget about our jobs and whatever stress we have in life and everything, and we just focus on making it the best night we can.”

“Yes! That is EXACTLY what we need to do!”  Marshall claps his hands together.  His face has suddenly become alit with excitement.  “Well said Kevin my man!”  He gives Kevin an enthusiastic high five.  

“Sounds good to me,” Anthony says, removing his ball cap and rubbing his hand through a red-orange widow’s peak hairline receding far too early for anyone to claim life is just and fair.

“Agreed,” says Pablo nodding, looking serious.  “I’m really glad to be here with y’all.”

“Alright, hands in!”  Marshall thrusting a hand toward the middle.  “‘Fuck Day Jobs’ on three.  One, two, three.”  Day jobs are fucked.  Marshall’s hands are rubbed together with fervor.  The twenty-four year-olds append themselves to the back of the line, where Kevin produces four tickets from his pocket, briefly checks their details and distributes them.

“Alright, Chvrches, 9:00 PM at Emo’s, let’s do this!  What I wanna know is, who’s gonna get laid tonight?”  All four concert goers are presently single.

“If past experience is any indicator, I’d bet heavily on ‘no one,’” says Anthony with a cynical chuckle.

“Aw come on, that’s not the spirit – Anthony, you’re about to become a big time patent attorney absolutely raking it in, you need to have more confidence!  I bet you can land any girl in this whole town!”     

“The question is, do I want to land any girl in this town.  Pretty happy with my life at the moment.”

“Alright, but how about you Pablo, you’re like, probably the best looking guy at this whole bar.  I bet straight guys are gonna be going for you all night.”

“I think we shouldn’t set any expectations except for to just have fun with each other, and if anything happens, we’ll just roll with it.”  Kevin would probably the most likely to get laid tonight, but he recently had a one night stand, one of only two he’s ever had, and it left him feeling gross and empty in the morning, so his odds are now as low as any of them, probably lower.

“Mmm, good plan, whatever happens, happens.  I like it.  No expectations except to have fun with friends.  Perfect recipe for a great night out.”

“IDs please.”  Three Texas driver’s licenses are produced.  One wallet is frantically searched.  The pockets of one pair of jeans, 36 length, 34 width, are turned inside out.

“Fuck, no, no, fuck guys?  Kevin?  Guys I think I left my ID in Dallas, I had to take it out to fill out an application and I think I forgot to put it back!  Oh shit!  Oh crap, hey, is it okay, I think I left it in Dallas?”

“I need to see ID buddy.”

“It’s okay,” Kevin to the bouncer, who looks like a bouncer, “Can he come in and just not drink, like get a stamp or a different wrist band or something?”

“Sorry, concert is 21 and up.  Can you step out of the way please?”

“Wait wait, I mean look at me, don’t I look twenty-one?  Like I’m obviously twenty-one.”

“Marshall, come on, just come over here a sec.”  Pablo and Anthony shuffle past the bouncer to where the sidewalk meets the street.  Marshall looks like he’s about to cry.  “Do any of you have an extra ID?  Maybe I can use one of yours?  Fuck I’m so stupid!  I’m so stupid!  Fuck!  FUCK!”  This final fuck is yelled into the balmy, pleasant night sky.  Then a street sign is kicked.  Concert goers from the line look over and speak in hushed tones.

“Hey Marshall it’s alright, just chill man, it’s okay, it happens to everyone at some point.”  Kevin taking Marshall by the bicep, running his other hand through his hair (his own, not Marshall’s).  Marshall turns back to the group, tears welling up, as Kevin looks down at the ground, thinking.  “I don’t think it’s worth wasting time finding another ID, plus I don’t think he’s gonna let you in at this point anyway.”

“Whatever, you guys should just go in without me, I’ll just drive back to Dallas, it’s not like I was originally invited anyway.”

“Aww, come on, Marshall,” Pablo with genuine empathy, “It’s not that you weren’t invited, it’s just that Julian was supposed to be in Austin so we got them for the four of us that were already in Austin is all.”  Pablo is pretty sad about the concert, but knows that the friendship code of honor decrees an all-or-none kind of deal when it comes to situations like this.  Anthony doesn’t really care that much one way or another.  He doesn’t even like Chrvches that much.  He’d be just as happy with a bottle of IPA in one hand and a GameCube controller in the other, Super Smash Bros. reflected back into his drunken, hazel irises.

“Also, you definitely can’t drive back to Dallas tonight, like not even close,” Kevin says, laughing, which makes Pablo and Anthony laugh, which makes Marshall laugh, which does good work to relieve some of the tension.  “We can still have a good night, I know this bar that has like a back entrance and usually has live music, let’s just head over there.”  Reaching for his phone, looking up the address.

“You sure you guys don’t wanna go in?  I can just head back to Kevin’s, I mean you guys should still get to go.”

“It’s fiiiiinnne,” still tapping at his Samsung, “The whole point is to hang out with each other, it doesn’t really matter what we’re doing.  Also the tickets were free, so it’s like, it’s all good.”  

“I don’t even like Chrvches that much,” Anthony tosses out there.

“Plus I think they’re gonna be at South By,” says Kevin, “So we can just catch them there.  Okay it looks like that bar is just like a ten minute walk this way, do y’all wanna go for it?  There’s this back entrance and I’m like 90% sure they don’t card at it.”

“Sounds good, let’s do it,” Pablo says.

“Okay, just real quick,” Marshall now rounding everyone up, six shoulders beneath his enormous wingspan.  Anthony feels that his ‘gather round’ quota has been well exceeded for the night.  “I just want to say, that I’m really, really sorry that I forgot my ID, and thank you for all being such chill friends about it, and I promise that when I move down here, I will buy us all concert tickets and we will have an epic night out to make up for it.”

“Sounds good,” Pablo says.

“Yeah, don’t even worry about it Marshall, let’s not waste any more time thinking about it,” adds Kevin, ducking out from under the embrace.  Anthony nods and follows suit.

Kevin is correct that there’s a back entrance, although he’s incorrect about the ID checking situation.  Unbeknownst to him, that night he had repeatedly entered and exited without showing his ID?  He was actually expertly evading a rather petite female employee who was filling in for a bouncer locked in a brutal fight with his twin brother, and, lacking much ID checking experience, and lacking much in the way of height, she had failed to notice Kevin, well on his way to blackout drunk, slip in and out just behind her.  

But all is not lost; Anthony, Pablo and Kevin enter first, then Kevin hands his ID over the fence to Marshall from a far corner of the bar’s backyard, and Marshall enters without issue.  It was something of a moment deciding who would be the one to pass Marshall their ID over the fence.  Kevin is Asian.  Marshall is not.  But Anthony and Pablo are generally pussies about this kind of thing, Anthony because he’s a law student who takes obeying the law surprisingly seriously, and Pablo because he’s generally a pussy about most things.  

“Alright sweet, we are in the bar, good shit,” Marshall says, surveying the yard, which is filled with picnic tables which are filled with people, a lot of them with tattoos and thrift-shop bargains and maybe beards and colorful hair.  “Drinks are on me, I owe you guys for that last fiasco.”  They get in line for the bar.  No one really needs another drink, but it also feels weird to go into a bar and not get a drink, so they all four end up settling on this special where you get a shot of tequila and a tall can of Tecate with a little lime slice sitting on the top for 7 bucks.  

“Why do they give you the lime with the Tecate and not with the tequila,” Anthony wonders aloud, looking down at the drinks in his hands.  

“Maybe the lime is for the tequila, and the Tecate can is just a safe place to keep it,” Pablo suggests.

“No, cause look, that girl got only a Tecate, and it also came with a lime slice.”

“Why are we arguing about this?!” Marshall says.  “It’s a lime slice, who cares!”  He throws his shot down and wipes his hand on his mouth, no grimace, no flinching.

“I’m not arguing,” Anthony says.  “I’m just questioning this bar’s citrus accouterment choices.”

“Of course, just messing with you, Anthony, the great questioner of accouterments!  That’s why you’re gonna be a world famous lawyer!”

“Well, cheers I guess?”  The shots go down.  They suck.

“It looks like those people are leaving,” Pablo observes.

“Ohh, nice eyes Pablo, wanna go snipe it?”

“I’m on it.”  They get the spot; half of a picnic table, with four people in their late thirties perhaps two couples, occupying the other half.

“This bar is very cool Kevin, good choice,” Marshall starts in.  “Lot of babes here it looks like.”

“Yeah, I like it, I like that it has a big outdoor area, it’s a pretty chill spot.”

“I’ve never been here,” Pablo says.  

Kevin: Really?  I thought we came here last time Julian was in town.

Pablo: I wasn’t around, remember?  I had my cousin’s wedding in Houston.

Anthony:  Was that the time we had the tag-team fap relay race?

Pablo:  No, I was definitely here for that.

Kevin: (laughing) Oh my god, that night was ridiculous.  Wait, how did that start anyway?

Anthony:  We were at your place, and Julian was saying how we always talked about it in college, and how we never did it.  And I was really drunk so I was just like ‘fuck it, I’ll do it,’ and then everyone just said they would do it and so we did it!

Kevin: (still laughing) Oh I was so drunk that night, we had the two arenas, you and Julian were the bathroom and me and Pablo were my bedroom.

Anthony:  I maintain that that gave you an unfair advantage.  You had a nice warm cozy bed, we had a cold, bright toilet.  Who can have a good, comfortable fap on someone else’s toilet?

Pablo:  I feel like a toilet would be more comfortable than someone else’s bed, at least like, they haven’t had sex on the toilet.

Anthony:  It’s worse!  They’ve shit on the toilet!  And probably fapped there too.

Kevin:  No one shits on the toilet, they shit in the toilet.

Anthony:  It’s still bare butt cheeks on the toilet seat.

Pablo:  But let’s be honest, Kevin’s probably been naked in his bed like tons of times.

Anthony:  Okay so then they’re even in that respect, but I maintain that it was a good five degrees colder in the bathroom-

Pablo:  Celsius or Fahrenheit?

Anthony:  Obviously Fahrenheit, what is this, Canada?  Anyway, what I was saying was, it’s like fricking cold in the bathroom, especially with no blanket or pillow or anything, which handicapped our ability to get it up by at least 90 seconds.  And I know for the record Julian agrees.

Kevin:  Julian lost it for you for sure.

Anthony:  Next time we can’t be drunk.  His whole issue is he can’t cum if he’s drunk.

Kevin:  I don’t think you would have won even with a handicap, Julian put you in too deep of a hole.

Anthony:  Right, and then I came in and absolutely killed it.  I think we need to change up teams.  Me and Pablo vs. you and Julian.  So you get home field advantage but you also get the worst player.

Pablo:  You seriously want a rematch?

Anthony:  Damn right I want a rematch!  I can’t go 0 for 1 all time in tag-team fap races!  I’m imagining a whole 7 games series!  

Pablo:  Then would we have to do like how they do the playoffs in sports, with two games at Kevin’s arena and then two games at your arena?

Anthony:  Exactly.  I would make full use of that home field advantage.  I know for a fact I can finish a fap in 60 seconds or less every time if I’m in my own bed with my own setup.

Pablo:  Do you feel like this conversation is like absolutely insane?  Like do you think anyone else ever has fap races, or is it just us?

Kevin:  I bet people have done it.  I don’t know how many of them were like, professional engineers or lawyers or something.

Anthony:  I don’t care if other people do it, I was never good at sports as a kid and this is something I’m good at, so fuck everyone else, I’m a fap god!

Pablo:  (laughing) Anthony Miller, 2018: ‘I am a fap god.’

Anthony:  Damn right!

Kevin:  What do you think Marshall, should we- wait, where’d Marshall go?

Anthony:  He got up a second ago to talk to those girls over there.

Pablo:  Oh shit, I didn’t even notice.  Should we go join him?

Anthony:  I’m really not in the mood to talk to strangers.

Kevin:  I think maybe, just let him go for a second, he seems… fine.

Pablo:  (Under his breath) Okay, is it just me, or has Marshall been acting like, really weird tonight?  Have you guys noticed that?

Anthony:  Nah, I’d say it’s not just you, he’s definitely acting strange.

Kevin:  I think he’s just going through a tough time of it right now, like it sounds like he’s really unhappy with his job and with Dallas and everything.

Anthony:  Plus those crazy messages he sent you, remember?

Pablo:  Wait, what messages?  

Kevin: (running his hand through his hair) He sent me some pretty weird messages on Facebook a few weeks ago.

Pablo:  What did they say?

Kevin:  I don’t know, it was really weird, basically he was saying that he had had the most difficult and trying and also like enlightening week in his life, and had found God, and that at one point he like stole a cop’s gun, and that he had set a bunch of sprinklers off in a hospital or something, and that he was running through the hallways naked?  And he said he had all these great ideas for a new company he was gonna start, but he couldn’t tell me what it was.  

Anthony:  Are we sure he wasn’t just on acid or something?

Kevin:  I asked him that, he said he was completely sober, at his parents’ house, just completely high on life.

Pablo:  That’s so weird, do you think he actually took a gun from a cop?  Like he’d for sure get arrested, right?

Kevin:  I don’t know how much of it was real, I told him to write it all down and send it to me in an organized story, and then I never heard from him again ‘til today when he said he’d take the ticket.

Pablo:  Oh shit… that’s crazy.  Do you think he’s like okay?  Like mentally?

Kevin:  I don’t know, it could have just been stress building up, he was never like that in college.  But it could be something he used to hide or maybe it’s something that just started recently.  I don’t know.

Pablo:  That’s actually really scary.  I had no idea, jeez.

Kevin:  Don’t say anything to him or anyone though, I mean it’s pretty obvious he was going through something at the time and if he doesn’t wanna bring it up then we shouldn’t mention it or like, tell anyone else.

Pablo:  (nodding) Right, of course.

Anthony:  He guys, he’s coming back over.

Lumbering back in his blue jeans and a maroon colored three-button polo, Marshall approaches the end of the picnic table and leans most of his impressive height over it.  “What’s up guys, how’s it going?”

“Pretty good, just chilling.  Where’d you go?”

“Oh, I was talking to those girls over there, they’re pretty nice, I was saying I could introduce you guys.”

“Nice, what, uh, what’s their deal?”

“Oh, they just go to UT, they’re all in a sorority.  I told them you were all single and they said you looked like cool guys.”

“Are they even twenty-one?” Pablo asks.

“Pretty sure, they said they were seniors.  I was telling them about how I drove down from Dallas to have a night out on the town with my best friends.  They think you’re really cute but the way, Kevin.”

“Oh really?  That’s cool.”

“Yeah one of them, she’s like a biology major, you know what I mean?  She says she’s got an internship at the zoo this summer.”

“Nice.”  

“So what do you say, should we go buy them some drinks?”

“I don’t know, I think I’m like not in the mood tonight,” Kevin says.

“Aww, really?  That one girl said you looked cute, the one in the back, with the red top?  Anthony, you with me man?  Let’s do it, I’ll wingman you!”

“Nah, I’m chill just talking with y’all tonight, thanks though.”

Marshall looks up at the girls, waves to them, then bangs his fist on the picnic table, which surprises everyone seated at it.  “What the fuck guys, I thought we said we’d see where the night goes and have an epic time out, now we’ve got some cute sorority girls who wanna talk to us and you guys are just gonna sit here and talk about fucking fapping like a bunch of retards?  That’s why I had to go talk to them in the first place, cause sitting around with you guys talking about jerking off was making me fucking depressed!”  

“Marshall chill, we’re just not in the mood to talk to other people tonight, like we just wanna hang with each other.”  Kevin turns to have a look at the girls for the first time.  They look like everyone.  They don’t look like anything at all.   

“But we are men!  We must assert our masculinity and dominance!  That’s what we do!  When we see prey, we attack!  We don’t sit around and talk about fapping by ourselves, that’s sad, that’s beta male talk!  We are alphas, we are young and hot blooded and must strike as many times as is needed to feed our hormonal appetites!”

“Well, I mean, I’m not even into women, so…”

“Well have you ever tried them Pablo?  Maybe you’d find yourself feeling a rush of adrenaline at the act of having sex the way biology intended!”

“What the fuck?  I find that like, ridiculously offensive.”

“Oh dude no, no I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry, you should like whoever you want, I just mean… Anthony, don’t you wanna just take one of those girls home and act out your primal instincts all night long?”

“I can honestly say that it doesn’t really sound appealing to me at the moment, considering I’m pretty drunk and have mock court at 8 in the morning.”

“Kevin?”

“Sorry dude, it’s just… it’s not that night.  Maybe we’re just not those kind of guys, like, that’s awesome that you have so much energy and all, but it’s just, not what we’re going for tonight.”

Dejected, Marshall slumps back into his seat at the end of the table, next to Kevin.  His head is down.  It’s maybe the third time tonight he’s looked like he’s about to cry.  The other three exchange looks.  Everything feels weird.  Everyone wants to just go home.  Anthony feels like he wouldn’t really mind if he never saw Marshall again.  Pablo has gone from worry to incredulity to outright anger and is now falling back into worry.  Kevin’s brain is whirring at a pretty good tick.  He’s feeling awfully sober.  He really wishes Marshall hadn’t driven down from Dallas tonight.  He’s trying to figure out how to make it clear to Marshall that he should leave tomorrow, rather than Sunday, which is the plan at present.  Anthony is working steadily at his beer so he can announce that he’s gonna head home, in light of that mock court at 8:00 AM.  It’s only about 10:50.  Pablo feels awkward, he feels like he has to say something but he has no idea if he should address this outburst or just ignore it and change the subject.  Kevin is concerned for Marshall but he’s also concerned for his friends because he can feel how unhappy they are with what’s collapsing all around them.  It feels like when an acid trip goes bad.  If you don’t know what that feels like, it feels like this; it feels like somebody died and every possible choice you can make for the foreseeable future is complete garbage that won’t even begin to make it alright, and you have no control over how low your friends will sink and you’re pretty sure you haven’t even come close to hitting the bottom, and you feel like this is maybe the worst moment of your life.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head out, I got mock court in the morning.”

Marshall’s head pops up.  “Wait, really, you gotta go?”

“Yeah, I gotta wake up early and I think the shot and the beer just put me to sleep.”

“Oh, okay, are you sure you don’t wanna stay and have a couple more drinks?  I thought we were gonna have an epic night out.”

“Yeah, I mean you guys should definitely stay out, I probably would have left the concert early anyway, seeing as how I’m busy in the morning.”

They all stand and give Anthony a handshake or a hug.  “Well, what are you doing tomorrow night?” Marshall asks.

“Uh, not sure, might have a law school thing though, I’ll let you know, I think I’ve got this event though.”

“Well how bout on Sunday?”

“Not sure yet, I’ll figure it out at mock court tomorrow, I’ll text Kevin.  Good to see you man.”

“Okay, well yeah it was nice to see you, we gotta do it again sometime!  Maybe I’ll even be moving to Austin within the next few weeks!  You gotta hit me up with some sweet neighborhoods!”

“I don’t know man, I don’t know that much about where the cool spots are.”

“Hey, are you getting an Uber?” Pablo asks.

“Yeah, I’m about to call one.”

“You wanna split it?  Since I’m just like in the same direction?”

“Wait, you’re heading out too?  Guys, what’s up?  I thought we were gonna get frothy tonight!”

“I mean, I already did get pretty frothy.  I’ll catch up with y’all tomorrow.”

“Is this about what I said earlier?  I’m really sorry Pablo, like I’m not homophobic at all, I was just venting, I don’t know, I guess I’m pretty drunk, I didn’t mean anything personally.”

“No it’s fine I know, you’re cool, I’m just like, not that much in the mood to drink much more.”  Marshall gives him a big bear hug.  Pablo makes sure it stays relatively brief.

“Okay, well, bye guys, I’ll see you soon, sorry about the concert.”

“See you guys,” Kevin waves.

“Bye, catch ya later.”  They leave through the back entrance.  

Marshall is deflated.  Kevin offers to buy them one more drink so it doesn’t seem like they’re all leaving at once.  He elects for just a couple cans of PBR.  As he’s paying he realizes that he doesn’t really know why he thought it matters at this point what time they leave.  They sit back down to drink and Kevin probes for enough conversation to finish off the cans.

“So, you’ve been applying to a lot of jobs?”

“What?  Oh yeah, doing a lot of applications.”

“What kind of stuff are you looking at?”

“Hmm.  What kind of stuff.  Oh, you know.  Pretty much any software engineering job.”

“Do you have like a top choice?”

“Oh, a top choice.  Not really, just gonna take anything I can get.”

“Yeah that makes sense.  Have you gotten any interviews?”

“Huh?”

“Have you gotten any interviews?”

“Oh, interviews, not too many, not too many.  I have one Skype interview next week.”

“Oh, nice, what’s it for?”

“It’s uh, it’s actually for Indeed, the job website.”

“Yeah, I know a lot of people who work there, it seems like a chill place.”

“Nice, yeah that would be good.”

“Are you looking at any other cities?”

“Hmm, other cities.  Not too many, mostly applying to jobs in Austin.”

“Gotcha, yeah I guess there are a lot of jobs in Austin.”

“Mhm.  Yeah, Austin’s so cool.  It’d be really fun to move here with all you guys.”

“Yeah.”

The beers get finished, somehow.  Kevin orders another Uber.  They get in.  The driver is named Amir Abbas, driving a black 2016 Audi A6.  He’s tuned in to a local pop station playing Post Malone and Bruno Mars and Migos rather loudly.  This is music for a group of friends on their way to having an epic night out, which is not really what’s going on in the car right now, but Amir doesn’t seem to really care.  He plays pop music in his Uber.  It’s what the kids want to hear.  He plays it loud.  They like it loud.  Loud enough that they have to talk over it, or else not talk at all.  He’s already had 4 round trips between the bars near 6th street and the apartments near the university.  One of the fares was the group of girls Marshall had approached at the bar.  They elected to talk over the music.  They were wasted.  Marshall and Kevin are also wasted.  They elect not to talk at all.

Now back at Kevin’s apartment.  The lights were all off when they walked in, but now a few of them are on as Kevin makes up the couch.  “Alright, here’s a pillow, and a blanket, you think you’ll be warm enough?”

“Oh yeah, this should be fine, thanks man.”

“Alright, well I guess I’m gonna get to bed, so I’ll see ya in the morning?”

“Yeah, see you in the morning.”  Kevin back in his bedroom, into his sleeping attire of only boxers.  The lights are turned off.  He feels like he might have trouble falling asleep, thinking about Marshall, but underneath his warm brown comforter, curled up in a ball, sleep finds him rather quickly.  

He finds himself in a hospital.  The sprinklers are on and the hospital is filling up with water.  There doesn’t appear to be anyone else around, though.  Wading through the shin deep water, he keeps poking his head into the doors of different rooms, but all the beds are empty.  He makes his way down the hall, sloshing in his black jeans, and gets to the far end, where there’s a door that leads to a staircase.  Taking the stairs up, out of the water, he reaches a door on the next floor which turns out to be locked.  As is the next door, and the next one.  But then the last one, the top floor, is open, and through it he steps onto the street he grew up on, in Overland Park, Kansas, outside of Kansas City.  It’s a bright, warm day.  Too bright.  The colors are too intense.  The green.  No one is around.  Everything is saturated with color, and he starts running, running down the street, and his legs don’t work right, his steps awkward and slow, and the grass is way too green and turning into turquoise and the sky is a sickly blue turning into green, and he’s terrified of how bright it all is but he can feel that he’s smiling, grinning hugely and he can’t seem to stop smiling, running through sludge, the world sickly saturated and his hometown melting before his eyes.

“Kevin.”  

“Wha?”

“Yo, Kevin, it’s me man, are you awake?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry I woke you up, can I talk to you a second?”

“Yeah, no it’s fine, what’s up?”

“…”

“What’s up man?”

“It’s just…”

“Marshall?  Are you okay?  It’s okay man, don’t cry it’s okay.”

“I’m just so lonely.”

“It’ll be alright, it’s just a phase, you’ll see, you just gotta get a new job, move to a new place… I know it looks really dark from where you are right now, but just trust that it’s gonna get better.  You’re gonna make it better.  You’re gonna figure it out.”

“What if it’s not the job, or Dallas or anything, what if it’s just me though, what if I just can’t be happy?  I can’t escape myself?”

“I mean, you might have some other issues besides just the surface level, but once you’re in a better place with your life situation you’ll be in a better place to address what those issues are.  You know, you’ll tackle them when you’re in a little bit of a better place.”

“Hey Kevin, you’re my friend, right?”

“Yeah man, of course.”

“Like if I move to Austin, we’ll hang out, right?”

“For sure.”

“And Pablo and Anthony too?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I feel like you guys are all just laughing at me, like you didn’t invite me to the show, and then I forgot my ID and ruined it and I feel like you all just hate me.”

“No dude, no one’s laughing.  Everyone understands you’re having a tough time, we all just want to support you and help you get better.”

“Really?  That’s the truth?”

“Yeah man, I wouldn’t lie to you.  We all just want you to feel better and be happy.”

“Kevin?  Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Could you maybe like, hold me?  Not in a gay way, just in like a human connection way?  It’s just been so long since I’ve really felt connected to anyone.”

“Uhm, okay, yeah sure.”

“Here, like this, is this okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Do you think I’m gay?”

“No, I get it, like people need physical connection sometimes.  It’s natural, it’s not weird.”

“But society makes it weird, like two guys cuddling is weird, but really it’s just an expression of being human.  It’s the most basic human connection you can make.”

“Yeah, I get that, I mean I’m not super used to it, but it makes sense, I should be able to be comfortable with it.”

“Thanks man.  I needed this, thanks for being a friend, Kevin.”

“No problem Marshall.”

….

“Hey Kevin, can I ask you something else?”

“What’s up?”

“Would it be weird, I mean like, I’ve never actually asked another guy this, but like it wouldn’t be gay I don’t think.  Like, can you give me a handjob?”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s not weird, it’s just like two friends, helping each other out, like a human connection, you know?  Could you jerk me off?”

“Uh, no.  No I’m sorry Marshall I don’t feel comfortable doing that.”

“Aw, okay.”

“Actually, I think I kinda feel weird cuddling now, I’m sorry.  Like I wanna be your friend and support you but I think I’m actually uncomfortable now.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make it weird, I was just asking you, like I don’t care either way, I’m not-”

“No it’s fine, just, can I have my bed again?  Can you go back on the couch, if that’s cool?”

“Oh, okay, sure.  No problem man, like it’s not gay though.  I could jerk you off too if you wanted.”

“No man it’s okay, seriously I don’t want to, I think I just wanna be alone.”

“Oh, alright.  Well, goodnight then.”

“Night man.”

“You don’t think I’m gay?”

“I don’t know Marshall, I have no idea, if you are it’s totally cool, but just like, you should like, think about it.”

“I’m not gay dude.  Seriously.  Look at me.  Look.  I’m not gay, I was just asking you to try something that could have just been fun, like you’re stupid fapping relay race.  It’s the exact same thing.  It’s just a fun thing friends do.”

“Okay man, like, yeah, you’re not gay, it’s whatever.”

“I’m not.”

“Alright, it’s cool.”

“Okay.  So, you wanna get breakfast in the morning?  With Pablo maybe?  We could go to this good breakfast spot on Guadalupe I know.”

“I don’t know, I’m gonna wanna sleep in, can we talk about it in the morning?”

“Yeah no problem, yeah you should sleep in.  I might get up early but I’ll be quiet.  And then we can grab breakfast?  With Pablo?”

“I can’t think about it right now, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Okay, night man, tonight was fun!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Alright see ya tomorrow.”

…

This time Kevin does indeed have trouble falling asleep.

 

The morning sees him wake up several times but continuously elect not to leave his room, even when he has to pee quite badly.  By 11:30 he can’t hold it in any longer and he quietly pushes the door open to slip off to the bathroom.  Marshall is not there.  The bedding lies in a heap upon the couch.  Kevin can not think of a time he’s been so relieved.  He looks to his phone for a text, but there are none.  Nor has Marshall left a note.  He could be getting a coffee; Kevin doesn’t keep coffee in the house, for some reason.  

After taking a shower, and still with no sign of Marshall, he makes the decision to shoot him a text – ‘Hey, saw you left, did you head back to Dallas?’  Marshall’s car is gone, as is his backpack, so the odds seem fairly high.  Still, he could be out at a coffee shop or walking the streets of the city.

A couple hours later, after Kevin has gone down the street for a burrito and washed the blanket and pillowcase he’d lent Marshall, he finally gets a texts back.  ‘Yeah, woke up early and remembered I had some stuff to do back in Dallas.  Thanks for hosting me, it was an awesome night!’  Relief now fully washing over him in an awesome wave, Kevin collapses onto the couch, his first adult couch, a somewhat pricey wraparound he his roommate split when they moved in two years ago.  Suddenly feeling in the mood for an afternoon cat nap, he moves one of the cushions to use as a pillow and lies back.

Something feels wrong.  The cushion feels weird on his head.  He checks it.  Something is dried and caked up on it.  He takes it to the kitchen and inspects it under the light.  It looks like blood.  It’s definitely blood.  Lot’s of it.  Caked all over the cushion.  He drops the cushion and takes a step back, then takes a seat on the stool behind the counter, watching the thing die, blood side up on the kitchen floor.  

He’s trying to decide if it’s worth saving, if he could somehow get it cleaned, if it could ever be as good as new, if he’d ever feel comfortable letting guests rest against it, if he’d ever feel comfortable resting against it himself.  Or if he should throw it out and try not to think about it anymore.