If No One Notices - 1. Story

If No One Notices

By AFriendlyFace

‘Kenny can’t stand a mess,’ James thought as he began loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher then proceeded to wipe down the stove, taking extra care to remove the grease stains between the burners. Once he’d finished that he used a damp cloth to clean the crumbs off their small kitchen table, and then went into living room, tidied their coffee table, and made sure all the furniture was at the angles Kenny liked. ‘That should pass the inspection,’ James thought as he smiled sardonically.

Having finished the housework James then walked into his small bedroom – Kenny had the larger bedroom of course – and carefully closed and locked the door. Next he removed the cell phone from his pocket, turned it off, and tossed it onto the bed. He only had one more thing to do and he didn’t want to be disturbed.

Removing a pen from his desk drawer James sat down, took out a piece of paper, and began his last - well second to last - activity.

Dear Kenny,

This isn’t your fault and there was nothing you could have done. So don’t make this about you. This is about me; for once something is about me.

The truth is I’ve been miserable almost for as long as I can remember. It’s difficult to be alone, particularly when you’re surrounded by other people. It’s even harder when these other people claim to care about you, but don’t even know you, don’t even notice you.

You’ve never known me, Kenny, and neither have my parents, or my sister, or any of our friends. It’s all be a lie, all of it. One big illusion I’ve used to fool you all.

For starters I’m gay. Surprised? Well you shouldn’t be you self-involved prick! You remember when we were thirteen and you came out to me? Well guess what? All I wanted to do was say, ‘me too!’, but instead you started crying and freaking out. Why couldn’t you have just waited a few moments and heard my own confession? Why did it always have to be about you?

But it wasn’t just you, and it wasn’t just being gay. I remember when I was in 5^th grade and I’d worked my butt off to make the honor roll. You know what happened? The same night that I went home to show my parents, the fucking same moment I was taking out my report card Lindsey suddenly interrupted to say that she had made the cheerleading squad. Guess what, we didn’t celebrate that night.

Or maybe the time when I was seven and I fell out of that old oak tree in front of my house and broke my arm. You know what happened? My mom made such a big deal about how guilty she felt for not watching me that suddenly MY broken arm became about her failure as a mother. So what did I get? A few pats on the back as people sat down and comforted her.

Do I even need to mention my dad? All he’s ever done was go on about how having a son means making things better for me than he had it. Well you know what? He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about making things better for me. All he wants to do is live vicariously through my achievements. I score the winning run and HE’S a good dad for practicing with me. I plant my own tomatoes and he’s the super gardener.

The really fucked up thing is that the four of you are the only ones who have ever even PRETENDED to notice me. Well I’m not like you okay. I guess it seems messed up. I mean here I am living with an openly gay guy, who goes out all the time and has all these gay friends, and I’m still too scared to tell you the truth, or even to tag along, but you know why? Because you damn well should have figured it out by now! Because I could walk in carrying a giant dildo and porn and you wouldn’t even look up from your homework. Because I could kiss one of your friends and you would decide you did a wonderful job making me so open-minded. Damn you! And don’t even think for a moment I was ever in love with you; I wasn’t. This isn’t some fucking internet love story. All I ever wanted was to share this side of me with my best friend. Only I’ve never shared anything with you, Kenny. I’ve never had the chance or the nerve.

I’ve never shared anything with anyone. Everyone thinks I’m just this regular, average guy who does everything a nineteen year old college student is supposed to, and never gets sad, greedy, angry, lonely, horny, or bored. But I’m not that guy. I’ve never been that guy. I’m not like my stupid, cookie-cutter family. I don’t want to be some all-American boy scout who grows up to have 2.5 kids and a blonde wife named Donna.

But what’s the point? Why go on crying and screaming on the inside and offering stony smiles and dry laughs on the outside? Would you have ever noticed I was an illusion, Kenny? Would my family have ever noticed all I was doing was channeling the Brady boys? Probably not. Well let’s see if you notice this. Let’s see how long my rotting corpse takes to get your attention.

By the way, you really were the best friend I ever had you stupid, self-involved, faggot. Thanks for all the years. Thanks for the hunting rifle you got me last Christmas too. I guess it doesn’t matter that I’ve never actually wanted to go hunting, or that I usually miss on purpose and watch pathetically as my dad picks off the stupid beasts. This time I have a target in mind that I’ve been waiting nineteen years to shoot.

Sorry about the mess and for ruining your Friday night.
James

Kenny felt sick, very sick. There was more blood than he’d ever seen in real life; in fact it looked very much like something from a horror movie. This was real though, and Kenny felt a wave of nausea and fear as he looked at the source of all this blood. His friend was lying only a few feet away and he noticed that the blood on his hands and arms had already dried leaving him with a ghoulish look.

Kenny could not believe that this had actually happened. He’d heard about it often enough and he knew that the chances of it occurring were infinitely higher considering the victim was a gay teen, but he thought this was only the sort of thing that happened to other people, the sort of thing you read about in the paper or see on the evening news.

“Oh God,” Kenny muttered in an agonized, choked voice, this would make the evening news, and tomorrow morning people would be reading about it in the paper.

As his senses slowly began returning Kenny numbly pulled out his cell phone and punched in the three digits.

Moments later a voice came on the line, “911, what is your emergency?”

“James,” Kenny said in a distant voice as he spotted his roommate.

James spun around, clearly shocked and looking very much alarmed. He hadn’t heard Kenny unlock the front door and he didn’t expect him home for hours. James quickly grabbed the letter from the top of the side table, where he’d just placed the TV remote on top of it in the hopes that that location stood the best chance of Kenny noticing it. Suddenly Kenny noticing the note was the last thing James wanted. He quickly opened the built in drawer and shoved the letter inside.

“Kenny, what happened?” James finally asked with alarm as he turned around and noticed the blood stains covering his friend’s clothes and the bandages wrapped around his arms. Kenny was also sporting a very black eye and it looked like his lip was busted. James was even more concerned as he took the time to look beyond Kenny’s physical condition and take note of the odd mixture of shock and hysteria which accented his mangled features.

“Kenny?” James said more slowly as he forgot about his own plans and crossed the room. Gently taking his friend’s shoulder, which he hoped was unhurt, he led Kenny to the couch and eased him down onto it.

“Kenny, what happened?” James asked again as he put an arm around his friend’s shoulders and pulled him against his ribs.

“Danny dropped me off,” Kenny said looking at him, tears forming in his eyes, but refusing to spill down his cheeks. Danny was one of Kenny’s friends.

“Dropped you off from where?” James gently prodded.

“The hospital,” Kenny responded, still maintaining as much emotional distance as he could from the situation.

“Why were you at the hospital?” James asked softly, rubbing his back.

“I’ve been trying to call you, but I think your phone is off,” Kenny said, purposely ignoring the question for now. James felt a pang of guilt in his stomach, but decided to ignore it for now, instead focusing on getting the details.

“Sorry about that, but why were you at the hospital, and what happened?”

Kenny sighed and then said simply, “Trent and I got jumped.”

Trent was Kenny’s ex-boyfriend and they were still good friends. Kenny was supposed to be hanging out with Trent all evening and then the two would likely be going out. It was for that reason that James hadn’t expected Kenny to return when he did.

“It was a gay bashing,” Kenny continued. “I’ve seen the guys around before. They live in Trent’s neighborhood. They’ve yelled stuff at us before, a couple of weeks ago. Trent said they were always doing that.”

“…But, what happened?” James asked yet again, still having trouble processing all this.

“They were waiting behind a van in his parking lot. There were five of them. When we walked passed they just jumped us. I was too surprised to struggle much; Trent took the worst of it…,” Kenny said as his voice trailed off and he stared at his blood-stained sneakers.

“Is he okay?” James asked continuing the small circles he was making on Kenny’s back and gently leaning into him.

“He’s in ICU,” Kenny responded once again resuming his distant, matter-of-fact voice. “They wouldn’t let me see him.”

“Are you okay?” James questioned.

“I guess. I mean, they didn’t mess me up too bad. After they checked me out they didn’t even want to keep my overnight, and I certainly didn’t want to stay, so Danny dropped me off.”

“I’m sorry my phone was off,” James apologized. “Did they catch the guys?” He continued.

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure they will. I told the cops they lived in the same complex, and I described the van. I think they will,” Kenny responded shrugging. With the story finished James decided the best course of action was to simply pull Kenny further into his arms and hold him.

After several minutes Kenny mumbled something incoherent into James’ chest from where he was silently crying.

“What did you say?” James asked softly as he gently pushed Kenny up far enough to look at him, but kept both hands on his shoulders.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Kenny asked, repeating his question.

For a moment sadness and anger flashed across James’ face as he remembered his plans and realized with bitterness that once again they had been shelved for someone else. Even on his suicide day he couldn’t get the spotlight.

The anger passed though as he glanced at his friend’s black eye and with a sigh he responded, “Nothing I can’t do later.”

“Will you pick us up something for dinner and rent a couple of movies while I go get cleaned up?” Kenny asked composing himself and standing up.

“Sure,” James answered with resignation.

Several hours later Kenny woke up to the sound of a gunshot. He was lying on the couch propped up against a pillow with a blanket covering him and he was already starting to feel stiff and sore from the experiences of the day.

Groaning softly as a nerve in his back pinched he sat up. The movie, Kill Bill 2, was still playing. He grabbed the remote from the end table and switched it off, ignoring the piece of paper peeking out from the drawer.

After standing up and briefly stretching, doing his best to work out all the kinks in his muscles, Kenny strolled down the hallway toward his bedroom. As he passed James’ room he noticed the glow of a light from beneath his door. It would be nice to chat with James a little more before going to bed, Kenny decided as he knocked softly on the door.

When there was no answer he gently tried the knob, finding it locked and still getting no response he concluded that James must have already fallen asleep. Before turning away he briefly took note of the music playing quietly from behind the door. It was Adam’s Song by Blink 182, one of James’ favorites.

‘At least everything is right and normal with James,’ Kenny thought with a small smile as he made his way into his own bedroom and closed the door.

© 2008 AFriendlyFace

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