Admire Me 2 - 6. Chapter 6 Missing in Action

The soup, the bath, and our friendship was the cure to get Korbyn back into full swing. We were finally holding a meeting. It wasn’t at our favorite table, but would do. We had to get Korbyn caught up on what he missed.

Then we could start plotting for revenge.

“Korbyn, did you ever get in touch with your cousin? The one that is in the fraternity.” I eagerly asked him, feeling a plan coming on.

“Uh, yeah, he’s agreed to help.” Korbyn notified.

“Good.”

I was aiming the conversation for the next plan when I was abruptly interrupted. I didn’t see it coming…

Once again.

“Hey, Braylon.” Missy said innocently. Her gang was behind her smiling like they were all saints. Each of them were holding a stack of papers.

“Hi.” I curtly waved.

“This table makes you guys seem so much smaller for some reason.” She threw her hair over her shoulder in an arrogant stance. “Oh, these are for you.” She let the stack of papers she held hit the table with a dull thump.

Missy immaturely snickered, “You might want to look over those.”

“What is this crap?” I picked up one of the papers in the stack it said:

I hate Braylon!

Sarah took the liberty to explain, “We let the school fill out a survey about you.”

“We also moved a few steps ahead of you by letting them anonymously sign the surveys.” Hannah’s voice rang beside Sarah. “That way, you don’t try to go back and ruin them.”

“Yeah, we know how you think. So we granted our protection for their honesty.” Missy brightly added.

I picked up the next paper:

I think the best place for Braylon is an asylum.

My mouth dropped to where I thought my jaw would unhinge.

“L-O-L.” Missy sweetly cued, “There are funny comments about you in there. I thought maybe you should see what people really think of you.”

“Ha, nice one Missy.” I scoffed “I don’t care what these low class, nothings think of me. Besides, they are all similar to you in ways.”

“In what ways?” Sarah lost her temper for a second.

“First off, they are insecure about their faces, lives, and bodies so badly, that they wish they were someone of my kind. They are jealous creatures with no personality… like I said, ‘they are just like you, Missy.’”

Sarah tried to shout something else at me but Missy threw up her hand to stop Sarah from speaking. “No Sarah. Our work here is finished. We should head off to prepare for our next attack.” She turned away from me sharply, and clicked through the cafeteria. The rest of the girls followed her lead.

Jade grabbed another survey reading it out loud: “Braylon Winters destroyed my reputation! I’ve always dreamed since 8^th grade of killing him.”

“What the…” Korbyn was surprised.

“I think that was a goth.” I guessed. “Judging from what the tone of the message was, I can tell.”

“How do you know?” Korbyn asked perplexed.

Jade took over, “First off, the goths always threatened to kill Braylon but they are too afraid to try it. Braylon struck horror and fear among all social groups. The goths got it worse than any of them in eighth grade.” Jade went on as if he was remembering a text out of a history book.

“What happened next?” Korbyn’s blond spikes went up with his eyebrows.

“Okay, I know you have heard of social suicide?” Jade mentioned and Korbyn looking lost just nodded, “Okay there are others… Have you ever heard of social homicide?” Jade asked him.

Korbyn’s face went blank almost, and Jade exasperatedly sighed.

“Social homicide is when someone kills another person’s reputation. Just like social suicide is someone killing their own reputation.” While Jade explained I skimmed through the nasty comments of the surveys. The students really hated me at this school.

“Oh, I get it now.” Korbyn followed. “So what does this have to do with the goths and eighth grade?”

“In eighth grade, Braylon almost wiped the goths from our school system. He ruined as many goths as he could. The few that were left… he gave them a chance to depart from their gothic ways.” Jade told him proudly.

“Hmm… so why did he do this to them?”

“Oh lord.” Jade rubbed his eyes. “Because they were obsessed with Braylon. They hated him, and they were plotting a way to make him a port of some sacrificial thingy. Plus they were trying to rally other eighth graders to help them ruin Braylon’s rep.” Jade’s brown eyes went serious, as he recounted the memory. “This was so bad, that they were sending hate notes, and e-mails to Braylon. Bray’s life was at risk, things were getting out of hand so he started to purge them.”

“Wow.” was Korbyn’s comment. “So he almost wiped them out?”

“Well I think he did. They haven’t started dressing in gothic clothing again, until this year.” Jade happily bragged. “You see, what Braylon did in eighth grade to the goths is called, social Genocide.”

Korbyn’s green eyes bucked and he looked to be having trouble breathing. I pretended not to see his reaction and kept reading the hateful, harsh words people left me.

“Braylon?” Korbyn said as if he was my mother.

“What? What? What?” I felt so distracted by his tone.

“You… you are capable of this?” Korbyn was acting as if he had never heard of someone doing something like that before. Oh god.

“Yes I am capable of that and much, much more, but for now, let’s talk about these freaking surveys.” I growled to myself.

Surveys:

Braylon is a homo!

He thinks he is the prettiest person in the world… I think not.

His mother should be ashamed. Letting her son walk around thinking he owns the world.

I bet his family is screwed up like him.

Braylon is like the male Barbie to me. –Ryan

“Oooh, look what Ryan put.” I shared with Jade and Korbyn. It was a good thing in the stack of filth. I can’t believe he thinks so highly of me.

How could these raggedy, broke down, fly faced children think I am screwed up? Missy knew what she was doing. She knew these people were too afraid to say this crud in my face. She gets them to express their selves and then bring it to my attention. How dare she!

Ooooooh, I want to hurt her so bad! It’s like she’s always one step ahead and she is still planning another attack. She is more of a challenge than I thought. She’s attacked me three or four times and I haven’t did anything.

Surveys:

One thing to say, Mr. America!

Only fags care that much about their appearance. He is a fag!

He had started a revolt against me. He had everyone boycott me.

I wish someone would give him his own medicine.

Wake up! You are not popular Braylon!

He thinks he’s a celebrity… gag me.

The worst thing to happen to our planet is those three in that group.

Korbyn is too freaking arrogant. Ugh!

That Jade dude starts a lot of mess. He is a messy homosexual.

Jade’s mouth is always going. He gossips too much.

I hate the blond haired spikey dude. I don’t know his name but he is a fool.

Jade is a Queer, Braylon is a faggot, And so is Corbin. That’s the bottom line.

Comment upon comment were thrown out. The whole school hated me. I’m reading all the evidence now. Missy was pressing too many of my buttons and it seems like she has won the support of the school.

My brother did as he planned. Jason threw his party. I could hear roars of excitement and plenty of people talking outside my window. It sounded like everybody was having a blast.

I tried laying in my bed with my pillow over my head to rest. I kept tossing and turning trying to block out the shouts and loudness of the stereo music. It was no use.

I laid in bed trying to drown out the words I read in the surveys. The bad thoughts of what everyone really thought of me. I thought what people wrote about me wouldn’t matter but it was digging into my conscious. I didn’t know if the music of the party was bothering me or was it the surveys.

The whooping of fun everyone was having kept getting through my muffled ears.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to see what these party people were doing in my yard. I couldn’t prevent myself anymore from looking out my room window.

I peeked out seeing how Jason had lamps leaning over the body of dancers outside like torches floating in the air of the night. The lights were dimmed but it was enough to see who was dancing with who.

I should have known he was going to play all rap music.

The beat was causing everyone to get overactive. All I could see was girls grinding on the boys to the sound of fast beats. Other people who weren’t in the dance scene was having casual talk drinking out of red cups. My mom sat at the food table to serve hungry dancers, and partiers who had worked up an appetite. (I know she was also there to make sure no one tampered with the food.)

To be honest I didn’t know Jason had it in him to throw a lively party. I mean, from the lighting the raving music and the crowd of people. I wanted to fuse with the fun myself. It’s hard to remember Jason is popular in his own thuggish way. I bet he is somewhere getting a dance from a prostitute.

Eww!

I should join them. Maybe a wild party like that could help me free my thinking from all of those words I saw today.

I chose to join the entertaining crowd of dancing bodies and excitement. When I made it to the backyard I noticed Jason, and a few of his other friends, (Whose names aren’t important) were getting lap dances.

My mom watched the activity of grinding like it was nothing to her. She would sometimes clap her hands and nod to the beats of some of the songs in fact.

As for Jason, he was having too much fun. His party was getting heavy with nastiness by the minute. Since mom is too busy dancing at the food table to keep this party from turning into a sex fest, I’ll handle Jason.

I marched over to my brother with my arms folded. The closer I got the more upset I was seeing some tramp flipping her butt on my brother’s lap. Ugh what a disgrace.

“Jason!” I screeched over the music, or at least tried to. “Jason!”

Jason gave a curious look, as if I was his ex-girlfriend coming to ruin his fun. “Hold on a sec,” he told the girl who was on his lap. Then he turned in his seat to face me. “Wha… oh Jesus, Braylon! What do you want? You are messing up my lap dance.” He whined. I seem to always embarrass him in front of his friends with my stiff, no tolerance policy.

His stupid friends were laughing at this time.

“Maybe your little bro wants a dance.” His friend with a gold grill in his mouth suggested.

“Uh, I sure don’t.” I snapped at the friend. Shutting him up. Then I looked at Jason, “Jason your party is getting out of hand. There’s too much grinding and nasty dancing. Next thing you know everyone is going to be nake…”

“Shut up! This is my party!” Jason shot out. His muscles were getting tense in his shoulders. I know he was getting mad. “I don’t care what it looks like to you. This is what I like. If you have a problem…” Jason stood out of his chair getting in my face. “You can go in the house or get whooped.” His body was like a tower all of a sudden.

Although I was shaking I didn’t back down. “Don’t test your luck in front of you little friends.” I stood in his face putting my hands on my hips. “I’ll let this little party go on. But know this: I will shut you and your party down if I keep feeling uncomfortable about the hoochies in my backyard.” I threatened.

By this time, Jason went into a little fit. He started fussing with me. Giving me word for word. We went back and forth until most of the party noticed me.

He tried to say I was acting like a teacher. That really fired me up.

Finally, my mom pulled me away from the party. Yelling at me for trying to mess up Jason’s fun.

What made me fill with happiness was some of Jason’s guy friends were staring at me. I guess his friends have never seen anyone stand up to him. Either that, or they were wondering if I was gay.

As I was walking off, I heard one of the guys ask, “Was that your brother?”

Another guy said, “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

My mom was getting on to me about the way I acted. As she strolled me off I was listening to the group of guys surrounding my brother ranting about me:

“What is his name?”

“How old is he?”

“Is he coming back out to party?”

“Jason don’t be mean to your little bro. He doesn’t look like a bad person.”

“Why haven’t I ever seen him?”

I stayed on the other side of the house away from the party where my mom told me to stay. It isolated me from conflict and causing disruption to my brother’s party. If anyone wanted to see me they would have to walk around the house just to do that.

The sounds could still be heard behind me. The music vibrated my chest but I sat there sulking I toyed with my Versace shades thinking about those surveys Missy made everyone fill out. I know some of the people who had those bad thoughts about me were at the party tonight.

I wanted to stand here and cool off but the more I thought about school the angrier I got. I was losing so bad… I just, couldn’t take it.

I put the shades on top of my head about to walk inside. I believe stepping out to the party was a bad idea. Why did I think an untamed party could clear my thoughts of all those negative comments?

“What’s up man?” a guy with saggy pants tipped my way. He wore a pair of shades similar to mine. The hat on his head was twist to the left. “What’s going on?”

“Hey.” I mumbled low. I really should go inside. Not in the mood for a conversation.

The guy took a lighter from his pocket, lighting a cigarette, and started smoking. He coughed a few times then lifted his shades up from his eyes.

Whoa! I don’t know what was on my mind at the time but this dude was hot!

I know this had to be one of Jason’s friends. He had to be.

“Why are you over here all alone?” He asked puffing out smoke.

“I needed to cool off. I’m dealing with a lot.” Suddenly I was confessing to a stranger. Maybe it was his hotness that made me do it. Maybe it was the build up of stress at school. Who knows.

He laughed, a little smoke blowing out of his mouth. “I didn’t know you were Jason’s bro. He never talks about you.” The guy went on, “When I saw you arguing with him I was like: ‘dang… who is this kid?’ So, me and a few others started asking about you.”

I smiled with a blush. It was dark outside so it was good he didn’t see me blushing. The fact he was asking about me, made me feel good. Someone actually wanting to know me. This guy was making the surveys sound worthless.

“Oh really?”

He stuck his hand out, “I’m Jarrod, but your brother calls me Gage.” He had this familiar energy to him. Well… all Jason’s friends acted the same. They were urban from the inside, out.

I caught myself reaching out for his hand to shake it. “I’m Braylon,” what was I doing? “It’s good to meet you Jarrod.”

Jarrod gave an indistinctive laugh letting smoke flare from his nose, “Nah, you can call me gage.”

“Okay, Jarrod” I said ignoring his last statement. “I will keep that in mind.”

“I see you are feisty.” He joked putting the cigarette to his round lips. Jarrod’s skin was milky brown, his nose, eyes, and face fit together well. His saggy pants, the twisted hat, the cigarette… everything was calling me to him. I don’t know why. The more I stared the more I liked.

Loud screams came from the party. Jarrod’s eyes moved to the direction of the party as if he forgot all about it. He crushed his cigarette at that moment, “I’m about to go party. You should come back after you cool off.” He offered.

“Okay. I will consider it.”

He shook his head, “Well… at least come out more or come around more so we can meet you.” I gave a weird look. I think he saw me, then he explained, “You know, the rest of the guys that don’t know you. Probably want to meet you. We come in your house all the time… So this won’t be the last time you will see me.”

I went along, “Ok, bye Jar… Gage.”

“Bye, Bray.” He walked around the house back to the party. I was in wonderment about why he called me Bray? The only people who calls me ‘Bray’ is my friends. I guess he wants me to know he will be back for sure.

Gage, I’ll keep my eyes out for you.

A few minutes of alone time I was approached by someone else. This time I knew the person fairly well. I was surprised. I never thought he would come to a party hosted at my house to be precise.

“Braylon!”

“Korbyn?” We both greeted each other in a hug.

It was all that needed to be said after that. We held each other in a long embrace. There were moments of mistakes he made, arguments we had, breaking up, Andrea, and him being sick, flipping around in my head as we stood there wrapped tight. I know he had to be thinking the same thoughts I was, because we just couldn’t let this hug go.

I told him what happened at the party and why I was on this side of the house. He immediately started trash talking about Jason. It was funny to hear, plus Korbyn was kind of drunk. So it made me wonder how long he had been at the party before finding me.

His words were beginning to have a slur the more he drank from his red cup. His green eyes were dark and low. He staggered near me to whisper in my ear, “I haven’t forgot about you.” He said softly.

“What do you mean?” I was confused.

He tilted his head to the left as if I was forgetting something, he slurred, “You took care of me while I was sick. I remember you feeding me, partially bathing me.” He was still Hollister material even in his drunk state. “I’m yours, and I will never forget that. That day meant something to me. It made me think.”

Okay, Korbyn had too much to drink. I didn’t know if this was his words or was it the alcohol talking for him. He was pouring his heart out to me. He was coming closer into me every second. Invading my space without a conscious, “I have been thinking about you and everything you mean.” He whispered staring at me without blinking. “What you did for me is stuck… it’s stuck up here.” He pointed at his temple. “It won’t leave. It sits there all night and day. I can’t get it out of my head for nothing.”

I didn’t know how to respond to him. I just listened to his thoughts wondering if it was real.

Even though I was silent it didn’t prevent him from going on, and on. He kept whispering lusty, sexy thoughts in my ear. Pressing his slender body over mine. He wanted a reaction or something to know that our romance hadn’t died completely.

After a minute, I stopped resisting his body contact. I let his firm abs rub against mine. His drunk body leaned on mine with his head on my shoulder for support. He started to talk gibberish in my ear.

“What did you say?”

Right then, he started asking me, “Will you take me back?” it was something so strange to hear. It had to be the alcohol. Korbyn didn’t mean any of this. He probably wouldn’t remember any of it by tomorrow.” I’m sorry for ever, breaking up with you.”

“I don’t know.” I tried avoiding it.

“Please… please think about it.”

“Okay, I will think about it.” He wouldn’t let it rest. He wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.

He put his red lips to my ear, “I was mad that day. I was a loser that day. You were right about everything, I’m sorry.” He licked my ear tenderly, leaving a wet cool stain. Then he did it again, “You thinking about it?”

“Give me time.” I was trying not to fall for this drunk person. It was sweet and everything but what is it, if he didn’t remember it? What did this mean, if he didn’t mean to go this far?

He started kissing my cheeks. When that didn’t work he kneeled before me. I started to blush when he stumble on his way down.

“Oh Braylon, I bow to you.”

I glanced around. As beautiful as this was, I tried not to show emotion. I was trying to hide the blush coming on. “Korbyn… you don’t have to do this. It’s okay, its fine, I heard you.”

Did he listen?

No.

“Please forgive Korbyn, your ex-boyfriend.’” He rambled on with sincerity and slurs. His green eyes sparkling in the dark.

“I know, just get up. I forgive you.” I was saying anything to get him to stand. To be honest, I was finding his submission hard to ignore. I loved it! He knew it.

He kept his head down as he bowed. His golden spikey hair was only visible. “The only alpha that matters. I realized the color of your skin isn’t an issue, your feminine ways wasn’t an issue… I had the issue.” He gestured never meeting my eye. “Please, please…”

It was getting hard not to take Korbyn back. I’ve never dreamed of him bowing to me. He always put up resistance.

What was this??

When I wouldn’t reply, he broke. He begin to change before me like nothing. Then suddenly, Korbyn snapped out of his drunken stagger and slurring. It was like he had awakened from sleepwalking.

“Braylon, I’m being serious,” He stated with a new calm. “I’m not that drunk… maybe a little tipsy but I really want you back.” He said standing up.

It was all an act.

I think when I told him he was just drunk and it was only the alcohol talking. He probably thought that wouldn’t work anymore. Him thinking that I couldn’t take his words seriously because he was acting drunk probably caused him to drop the performance and just tell what he was here for.

I chuckled, blushing from his little charade. I thought it was cute, drunk or not. I almost fell for him again.

What should I say?? Things were flying in my head. I wanted to answer him, but every time I had the answer, the answer changed, and I had to reconsider the new answer.

What do I do?

Yes or No? Yes or No? Yes or No?

Pick one.

Circle one.

Say ‘yes’, and be with the guy that hurt you. That has caused open attacks from Missy. Your ex-boyfriend and old enemy. Say ‘no’, and maybe you will be lonely forever. You might start wanting him back just when he has moved on. You could miss out on a shot at love… or even worse: say no, and Andrea ends up with him.

“Look at what I have on,” Korbyn broke my concentration. Turning around, unzipping his pants, and pulling them down a little. I was surprised at his courage when he was so quick to drop his pants just below his butt. His underwear were black with a pink ‘B’ on the butt.

“Korbyn I’ll think about it.” I sighed trying to avoid his sad emotional green eyes.

He pulled his pants up and fasten them, “Ok…” he let out, as if he were thinking to himself ‘he did too much’.

At that moment my senses were opening things up. I could feel something hanging around in the air of the night. It was a mixture of feelings building up. It wasn’t all Korbyn, oh no. This was a new presence. Something I haven’t felt in a while. The light feeling I had was making chills go up my spine because as distant as my heart was to the feeling, I recognized it for what it was.

The noise of the party behind me seemed to decrease. Korbyn was moving in slow motion. I was beginning to feel the effects of something, and it wasn’t alcohol or any other drug… and it wasn’t Korbyn.

Braylon get yourself in line. What are you doing? Your emotions are leaking out.

At first I thought I was suffering from a breakdown after all the things Missy did. I thought it was all catching up to me. Then my mind tried to shield me for another attack. My inner alpha began to rise…

Or was that my heart swelling?

What is wrong with me right now? This wasn’t happening earlier! These emotions just hit me out of nowhere and I couldn’t identify where I knew them from or why they were coming back.

It felt right, then it would feel wrong. It was a battle happening in the chambers of my very beating heart. It was all happening so fast and I didn’t know what was fighting, or who. I didn’t know anything.

Was it Korbyn? No it can’t be. I would know for sure. It has to be a mixture of feelings for something else… or someone… I don’t know.

“Braylon?”

Suddenly I heard a deep voice. It wasn’t coming from Korbyn, but it was coming from behind him. The voice caught Korbyn by surprise too. It had style to it, and the slang was wrapped in the words so heavy it ripped with a sudden passion.

When I saw who the voice belong to, it tore me in half. It told me why I was feeling what I was feeling. It explained why I was feeling so weird a moment ago.

“Braylon, I’ve missed you!”

Korbyn stared in my direction, looking slightly unpleased with the voice.

Then I felt strong arms wrap me in an unforgettable hug. Squeezing me like I never felt before. I smelled something odd and familiar. It was taking my breath from me how he showed up. It had been a long while. The hug we shared was different. This was one of those hugs that came from a missing part of yourself, that makes you hang on to the contact of their physicality because there is no words that are good enough to greet the person.

There was probably so much that I wanted to say, so much to know, so much to ask, but the only thing I was doing, was letting him hold me. This wasn’t the part where we talk… this was the part where we hug. Where we simply submerge ourselves in each other’s presence.

All I could do was hug him back and close my eyes. My heart was going crazy, beating like it had been trying to reach out for this particular connection. This particular guy… this type of closure only he could give.

How could I have forgotten him? He was M.I.A.. Where had he been? How did my feelings know he was here before I actually did?

When we pulled away from the long warm hug, I opened my eyes. When I looked into the natural, true indigo eyes of Mitch, all the questions answered themselves.