The Secret Life of the Overture Boys - 3. Movement 3

“Fuck me…”

I scratched the back of my head.

Staring at all the trash stains. Nasty ass shit. While I waited for that Berkley kid, I walked around trying to think of a place to start. I don’t remember buying Mexican food, either.

I changed twice. No idea why. Every outfit, not that it was an actual outfit, felt odd. I settled with a pair of low cut sports pants and some sort of stupid shirt with design crap on it. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

Cassidy was looking through the trash near the fireplace.

“What happened?” He asked.

I glanced at him, opened my mouth then shut it, shaking my head. I gave him the finger and went for another glass of water. I was parched.

“Oh A, stop being such a sour puss. Do you remember?” I downed the glass before replying.

“No, it was a good night though. What do you want? Want to help me clean?”

“Wish I could, but I didn’t make this mess! Oh chips!” He picked up a bag Fritos, poking through the bag looking for remains.

“Ass, go away, got help coming over.”

“Yeah I know.” Cassidy crunched on a few chips.

“How do you know?” I glared at him from the kitchen.

“I read your text, duh,” he nodded to the cell phone on the counter. I grinded my teeth.

“I swear Cassidy, I’ll kick your ass.” I raised my fist. Cassidy leapt up and tossed the Frito bag in the air, “Not if you can’t catch me!” He giggled and sprinted for the stairs.

“Come here bitch!” I stumbled around the kitchen, my socks forcing me to slide around the corner. Cassidy tripped once and flew up the stairs. I kept my pursuit hot on him, chasing him up the stairs as I saw him duck behind a corner. I slid into the hallway, watching his foot dart behind a corner as his laughter echoed down the halls. It was kind of creepy, his giggling laughter.

“Be nice Anderson, be nice!” I whirled around the corner, his voice echoing then finally fading. The hallway was empty. I sighed and shook my head, making my way back down the stairs. , Berkley was at the bottom.

“Who were you talking to?” I froze, stunned. Paralyzed for one of the very few times in my life. I had no idea what to say. My ego quickly recovered, though.

Berkley stared up at me, with his little jacket and scarf, oddly tinted hair and winter touched face. Pale, but gathering color. What an asshole.

“Who the fuck let you in?” I growled, slowly trudging down the stairs.

“Well the elevator came here…” he pointed, glancing around and finally noticing the mess. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” I stopped next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at my hand, I wasn’t sure if he thought it was a bug or a piece of candy, “You’re going to help me clean.”

“I…what?” He stammered. I left him, wandering back into the kitchen to shut my cell phone, sliding it near the take out menus. “Really?” He asked.

“Yeah, what else are you going to do?”

“Well it’s snowing outside, or it was. Its actually kind of nice, we should go-..” I cut him off, no time for his prattle. No sir.

“Lets clean man!” He was already shedding off his jacket and unraveling that expensive looking scarf. It was Burberry, I could tell. This punk had cash. I was slightly impressed.

“We should go enjoy the snow!” Berkley sounded hopeful, watching me leave the kitchen with calculated eyes. I went over to the entertainment system and turned on my iPod. Savage Garden came on.

Berkley almost snorted. I smiled, nodding my head to the music, “Nice. Cleaning music.”

The singer shrugged and I tossed him a trash bag. We began to clean, with Savage Garden blaring its cheap enchantments across the room. Berkley and I did not talk much, but we laughed at lyrics and I made him do most of the cleaning while I had seven cigarette breaks.

After most of the living room was cleaned, the drugs removed and most of the salvageable food saved, I collapsed on the couch. After noting the amount of trash bags we used and making a mental note to take them down before Marta got back, . I picked up the remote and activated my awesome flat screen.

“Do you like wrestling?” I asked.

“Not…really…” Berkley sounded a-matter of fact. Did everybody ask him this stuff?

“Cool.” I turned on wrestling.

Savage Garden got shut off. The living room was soon filled by loud screams from the wrestling match, fake commentary between managers and sweaty wrestlers. What a manly sport. Not. I glanced at Berkley, he was enduring.

“Do you want to watch American Idol or something?”

“Well, I don’t care… maybe…”

“I’m kidding.” He glanced at me, color finally hit his cheeks, I noticed.

“Oh.” I laughed and he smiled, but it was late, as if he realized something. I shrugged it off. Whatever. I lit up another cig.

“You can smoke in here? What about your parents?”

“I live here dude.”

“Oh…wait, by yourself?”

“Yeah.” I held up the cig, “Hence getting cancer.”

“So we’re alone…?” He asked, was there some sort of hope in his eyes? . I took a drag and nodded, some guy was getting the shit kicked out of him on TV. I pretended to be interested.

“Cool.” Yeah, cool. “Want to go outside?”

“Uh, yeah, give me a bit.” I launched upward, put my cigarette out and trotted upstairs to change.

I took my time to change, unsure if it was on purpose. I wanted to annoy him. He looked like he took everything personally. Maybe I could get him to do drugs or something corrupt. I planned lots of shit. I returned downstairs with a nifty coat and a way cooler scarf than his.

He was standing near the mantle of the fireplace, across the living room. He motioned to a picture, “Who are they?”

“My friends.” I wrapped the scarf around my neck and collected my phone. I set the secret system and phoned down for somebody to take the trash bags sometime tonight. I was too lazy to do it myself. Berkley was looking at pictures and picked up one I didn’t want him to pick up.

“Who is this?” He asked. It was a picture of a blond boy.

“Just an old friend. He left a while ago, from the City.” The singer shrugged and put it back, wandering back to collect his jacket and scarf. Donning them, we made for the elevator.

It chimed and we entered, standing next to each other as we went downward.

“So, what makes you tick?” I asked.

“What do you want to know?” He looked at me; he always looked at me when he spoke. I just stared at our reflection in the glass of the elevator.

“Oh, well… everything.” We reached the foyer and I exited, Berkley hesitated for a moment then got into step with me. “I need to buy cigarettes, by the way.” My company nodded. We charged into the biting wind, but he was right, it was that right kind of cold. The kind that was not harmful. It chilled you, sure, but the way your breath leaked from your lips and swirled before you was surreal. Snow had freshly fallen, however not has heavily as one would assume.

The sky was gray, though sunlight streaked across the sky in some portions of the city. We started down the street and spoke for a while. He told me a music teacher had referred him to Julliard from his previous high school. Both of his parents were lawyers and he had three sisters. Berkley had not drunk in his life, or smoked a cigarette.

“You ever do drugs?”

“No, never.” I smiled at him, Mephisto’s gaze. He looked me shaking his head.

“You can’t get me to do it, I like to be healthy.” The kid was confident, but they usually were incredibly easily to influence. I thought.

“Do you not like that I smoke cigarettes?” I lit one up.

“I don’t mind it, you smell nice.” We waited at a stoplight, traffic zoomed by.

“What?” I couldn’t hear him; a huge empty tourist bus zoomed by.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. I returned it and enjoyed my cig for the next few blocks. I told him about my violin and how I loved it. He reminded me of how good I was the day we met, I reminded myself how amazing I was everyday anyways.

I had a brisk pace as I walked and he rode my coattails along the streets. I told him about the club that had no name and I told him about Charlie and Dominic. He was interested, he always sounded interested. I did not give him the time of day, was he blind to this? I almost wanted to turn to him, in my head.

“How stupid are you, kid?”

I would push him along the sidewalk, steam rising from the underground. You could feel the subway rumble below us, the cold biting wind. He would gaze at me, unsure, confused.

“You’re stupid!” He would scream pointing. Then he would run. But that never happened. We just kept walking and I finished my cigarette in record time. I glanced back at him, the wispy singer boy from class, hands shoved in his pockets, breath floating tangibly from his lips. We arrived at the corner store and entered.

It was generic and trashy, run by some Asian man. His son usually fed me free cigs, but he wasn't on duty. Had to buy them today, ugh. I browsed around just to annoy the owner. That always annoyed people in a convenience store. If you wander around they get all nervous, they might rob the place! Oh no! I stood and stared at the redbull for a few minutes, pulled one out, went to the chip aisle and drank it. Berkley was checking out the candy and finally joined me as I hid the redbull can behind some Fritos.

“Steal something.” I urged, pointing, gesturing about the store wildly. I said it in a whisper though. Berkley seemed to crouch down, as if I yelled it.

“What? No! We’ll get caught!” I snorted, grabbing at a bag of chips and throwing it at him.

“Take it! I’ll distract him, I need cigs. Come on, take something.” Berkley glanced around, peeking over the aisle to look at the angry Asian man staring daggers at us.

“No!” He glared at me, “Sorry, but no.”

“Pussy.” I turned, walking away to go purchase my shit. I went to the counter.

“Anderson, what did you drink back there?” The Asian dude asked. He knew me. He’d been here forever.

“Nothing, Mr. Kim. , American Spirits, please.”

“ID?”

“You serious?”

“Rules, Anderson!” He pointed at the “We ID” bullshit propaganda on the counter.

“Mr. Kim, come on! I’ll give you twenty for one pack, please?”

“Really?” He looked interested, considered it then sigh retrieving a pack. “Here.”

“Sweet, thanks Mr. Kim. I almost thought of buying the whole place and kicking you out!” He pretended to laugh, there was a blur next to me, and Berkley burst from an isle, gripping something under his coat. Mr. Kim looked, gasped and yelled after him. My adrenaline pumped, I glanced at the lighters on the counter and grabbed one.

“ANDERSON!” Mr. Kim howled, as he went to move around the counter; I was already out the door, the bells jingling. Berkley was sprinting in front of me…laughing. He went down the nearest Subway station; I followed, panting, to many cigarettes. Mr. Kim did not bother to chase.

Down the stairs and into one of the side halls with the vending machines, Berkley banged against the wall, panting.

“Wow.”

“Damn it…” My chest hurt and I slid down the linoleum.

“That was awesome!” He opened his jacket; a bunch of shit fell out. I jumped up bursting out in laughter. I lunged forward gripping him by the shoulders, shaking him as I beamed.

“You’re not as pussy as I thought!” I snatched at some chips and ate them. There was chocolate, Advil and some weird trail mix. We were set for a road trip if we really wanted. Berkley smiled at me, still catching his breath. I gave him a pat on the shoulder and he stared at me for a moment. I didn’t think on it too hard, but it was something I took into brief consideration. It left as quickly as it came.

“Yeah…” I panted, “Awesome.” I took some chocolate and slid down the wall again and sat, legs splayed out. I had another cig; as he sat across from me, munching on chips. We sat in silence for a bit and the light started to fade as the subway rumbling became less frequent.

“I should go.” It was sudden.

“What?” No.

“Yeah, my parents will freak. I had fun though.” He sat up and threw away his trash. How thoughtful. Most of Manhattan was my trash bin.

“Alright.” I stood up, “Catch ya later then.”

“Do you want to hang out again?” He walked past me, heading for the stairs. I did not reply right away, then answered.

“Yeah, I’ll call you.”

And he was gone. I sighed and wandered into the station. It was fairly empty. A few people stood near the other end of the platform, the last group of normal people not to stick around stations at night. I listened to some homeless man mess with a radio, the odd sounds echoing around the station as a train pulled up, screeching.

This was the station. I breathed and lots of things became dense, even the air. As the doors opened, Cassidy exited the train and wandered up to me. He had a cigarette and it smoldered. Taking a drag, he offered it to me but I waved it away.

“You don’t need them anyways.” I nodded and moved near the edge of the track, watching the infamous third rail spark randomly. Cassidy joined me, glancing down. I just sat behind the yellow line and stared. He sat next to me, resting his head on my shoulder.

But I could not feel his head at all. I could not smell the smoke from his cigarette.

“Did it hurt?”

“Nope.”

We sat in silence, trains went by at intervals and time just did not exist for a while. I sighed, “It was just quick?”

“Yeah, it was. Why?”

It was the location, dreadful memories were here.

“You can’t think like that. It was a mistake, really. I curse myself for doing it sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you still did it.”

“Obviously,” Cassidy sneered, smiling shortly after, “It is just hard to know somebody that deep and nobody would have stopped me.”

“I could have known you that deep, idiot!” I yelled this, it echoed in the station.

“You were my best friend, but I just didn’t have the heart to tell you.”

“Yeah, now I’m stuck with fucking Charlie who’s not as half as good as you were.” I lit another cigarette and literally ate it.

“You would have said something silly and told me to smoke a joint or do a line. It was beyond that. I had decided you know.”

“Stupid decision, in my opinion.”

“You’d be one to talk.”

“Shut up. I miss you.”

Cassidy smiled, “I started to miss you way before I did this.”

I let out a trail of smoke and said nothing, a train approached. “I hate cigarettes.”

“Well then quit.” Wise advice, Cassidy.

“Can’t.”

The blond nodded at the train, jumping up, “This is me. I’ll see you. Nice job with Berkley today, friendship must have given you a headache, didn’t it?”

I glared, “What the hell are you taking about?”

“You made him steal shit, right? You did a good thing, let him loose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Whatever, Cassidy.” I stood up and the train departed. I didn’t look back.

I wandered back to the apartment. As I arrived, Charlie called me. I answered.

‘What?’

‘Where are you’ he sounded like he was near a major road.

‘Outside me casa, what’s up?’

‘I dunno, want to hang out?’

‘Sure lets go to the rink or something’

‘’kay, I’ll get you soon.’

I hung up and waited outside, shivering slightly. Ice-skating sounded okay. After a few minutes a taxi pulled up, Charlie hailed me inside. I jumped in and despised the vehicle already. Fucking taxis.

“Here.” A baggy of white powder landed in my lap. I beamed.

“Oh, presents.”

“Git er’ done.” I nodded, glancing at the driver who was far too busy speaking on his blue tooth in some foreign language. Charlie provided a mirror and a twenty, we always snorted from twenties. I did a line; it went up smooth and settled. I did another shortly after.

We arrived at Rockefeller Center and paid off the cabby. We didn’t bother to get skates, even if the place was open. People were on the ice, stumbling about. We slowly made our way on and lit up cigs. The yayo was already in my head and I figured I could go to the Olympics by now as I slipped and slide like an idiot on the ice. Charlie laughed.

“We should get Dominic.” I stated, holding the side of the rink. The cold drifted upward, it was kind of nice.

“He’s hanging out with his dad or something.” Charlie shrugged. Dominic was so exclusive; he usually only hung out when he wanted to and was often actually genuinely busy. What a douchebag.

We drifted around; I managed to trip a guy trying to do tricks. What an asshole. It was kind of like those guys who brought those twirl rave lights to a club. Tool. We laughed at him and he called me names and I managed to get Charlie to cover for me while I did another line behind him within his jacket. It was warm! He did one too. We were floating on air, over the ice of course.

Then I saw him.

“Berkley!” I shouted, to no one in particular. Charlie glanced over to see where my eyes had looked, I pointed. He was stumbling on the ice, and as he was about to fall as another guy caught his arm. They both laughed. “The fuck…” My breath coiled out before me, angry.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I glared at Berkley and whoever that was as they skated next to each other, stopping to chat briefly. He was having a swell time. I was jealous.

I was brimming with unknown jealousy, a jealousy I knew that I did not have within me, but it was there nonetheless. I charged over, slipping several times. Charlie followed; he was more concerned with why his lighter wasn’t working.

I approached Berkley and his friend. “HEY YOU!” I growled, sliding into the wall and gripping my way over. My confidence was pretty overfull right now. I had this handled. Fret not.

“Oh…Anderson… hey…” Berkley glanced at his friend, my eyes were glassy and fucked up. I wonder if they knew. I pointed a wicked finger at the other kid. All preppy looking and shit. Whatever.

“Who is this?”

“Just a friend from NYU.” He replied, Berkley glanced at me, looking down sheepishly at the ice.

“Another NYU idiot, great.”

Charlie slide over, “Anderson, let’s go man,” he pulled at my arm, I resisted.

“Wait a sec, C DOG,” I have no idea why I said that.

“Does your ass pirate friend have a name?” I hated the NYU kid. His stupid clothing, his dumb gelled hair and probably fake ass tan. It was December. Proud to be pale, bitch. And his lisp… wait his lisp?!

“Oh…that’s…”

“Scott.” The lisp was like a bullet to my heart.

“YOU’RE SERIOUS?” I gestured violently toward Abercrombie & Scott.

“What? Anderson, you’d better go…” Berkley motioned. Charlie gripped at me.

“Come on, A.” I whirled around, almost slipping, glaring at Charlie. My breath fumed from my mouth, streams of condensation leaving the recessions of my damp hair. I was livid but I had no fucking idea why. I looked at the two before me and I fury incarnate.

Hate flowed like a fucking stream! I glared at Berkley, staring daggers. If looks could kill, I’d scalp that bitch. I pointed, “Fuck you singer faggot!” Charlie finally grabbed me and pulled me away. Berkley just stared at me. I stared back, livid.

“And you too, Brad Pitt asshole!” I gave them the finger and Charlie whirled me around, a strong slap hit my face. I almost cried, but I held back the pained tears.

“What the FUCK was that?”

“Nothing, let’s go.”

“You sure? Look at me Anderson, you flipped out.” He pointed, Berkley and the guy moved slowly along the edge of the rink now, glancing over and Charlie and I.

“I’m calm, I’m fine. I’m calm,” I breathed deeply. Inhaling frost and air that made my lungs hurt. “Let’s get coffee.”

“Okay.” We got coffee.

Charlie probed me for information about my coke-induced outburst, I said nothing. I was trying to recall why I felt so strongly about decapitating the model looking NYU prat. It evaded me and forced me to drink when I departed from Charlie and went home.

I sat in my living room with a bottle of Jack and stared at my cell phone. Berkley’s number was pulled up and I was urging myself to apologize. A simple call, or a text message.

I couldn’t do it. I finished the Jack and passed out on the couch. I got up the next day; showered, cleansed myself of whatever sin I had and just sat and watched TV all day in my robe. My cell phone was in my room; I had no time to care. I didn’t want to give a rat’s ass. I was not like that.

The week started and I went to class. I dragged my violin through the snow, up the stairs and played viciously in class. It was chalk full of passion and shit. I bet people had orgasms. Everything moved slowly, the snow did that. The winter holidays threw everyone into a sense of fake cheer. It was annoying.

Small business could get out their cheap and hooky Christmas decorations. I gave Rudy the month off to spend time with his family. I took the Subway sometimes, or a taxi. I liked to walk, I didn’t mind the snow. I hadn’t spoken to Charlie or Dominic for a few days, and forgot about Berkley and tried to avoid any confrontation at school. It was better left that way, I thought.

But no. Life was like, ‘Hey, fuck you Anderson!’

As I was leaving the school one day, trotting down the stairs, Berkley intercepted me. He looked different; I would suspect that is what anger looked like.

“Hi. Anderson.” He said my name with some disdain. I gestured for him to wait a moment as I prepared a cigarette. It was the only way I would not scream.

“Hello sir, what?” I took a drag and kept it in long, letting it out just over Berkley’s head.

“You embarrassed me.”

“I bet I did.”

“Why would you care about me hanging out with Scott? Why would you care?”

“No idea.” I took another drag and pushed around him. Making my way down the stairs.

“Hey! Wait!” He followed me, slipping almost on the snow. I made my way down the street, taking the long way towards the Park.

“What do you want?”

“Well, apologize.”

“For what?”

“You called me names and then called Scott names and embarrassed me.” Berkley stopped; I kept walking, ignoring him.

“Sorry.” I threw my hands in the air. I turned and took another drag of my cig, “Happy?”

“No, say it like you mean it. You’re an asshole, Anderson. Grow up please.” He turned and began to walk away. I dropped my violin and my various shit and sprinted at him. I lunged forward tackling him. He screamed, I turned him over in the snow and glared, hair dangling in my face.

“I mean it, just like I mean this!” I punched him hard. He whimpered, blood dripping from his nose to the snow. “And this.” I punched him again. “Fuck off kid, go back to your boyfriend.” I sat up. People were watching. I glanced around, flushing. My shoes crunched in the snow and I walked away.

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I heard Berkley say. I picked my violin up, not bothering to brush the snow off me. “Why do you care? Why do you FUCKING care?” Berkley yelled, his voice cracking. I rounded the corner, rid of him. I sank along the wall to the snow and enjoyed two cigarettes. I wondered if I would regret it later.

I got up finally and walked home. A long ass, snow-numbing walk. A bus passed by suddenly and Cassidy jumped up from the curb as it passed.

“You should apologize.”

I glanced at Cassidy and laughed, “Not now little man.”

“You’re a vile thing, Anderson.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“A lot of opinions.” Cassidy lit up another one of his cigarettes. It forced me to flick mine away. I was tired.

“Why did you do it?” I shrugged. I hailed a taxi and got in. Cassidy was in the drivers seat; he glanced up at me in the rear view mirror.

“Where to?”

“Away.”

“On our way. Why did you do it?” He asked, beginning to enter traffic.

“Shut up.” Cassidy left me in silence and began to giggle.

“Oh, Anderson…” the laughter became annoying.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“You! You’re hilarious. I wouldn’t have you any other way, you know that?” He looked at me in the mirror; I nodded, knowing that was probably true coming from him.

“Stop it.”

“Rough around the edges, but you’re such a teddy bear. Your jealousy is way to obvious. Even at the club, if the guys get more ass than you, you gotta one up them. Its always a competition.”

“I guess…” I was tired of arguing with Cassidy. Fucking dead Cassidy.

“People aren’t competitions or toys you know, Anderson.”

“I know.”

“Then fucking act like it. Get out.” We were at my apartment. I exited. The taxi pulled away and I went up to my apartment and sat in the shower thinking. I played several pieces after I toweled off. I went to bed and slept till afternoon the next day.

I decided I would take a break from the world until near the weekend. The apartment soon returned to the damaged, messy state it was while I had my drunken surprise party. Marta came by and brought me lunch, she commented on the state of the place. I had told her I would clean it soon. Never did. I just watched On Demand for hours and drank lots of coffee, went through two packs of cigarettes and smoked a ton of weed. As a matter of fact, the place looked like shit. I just trudged around and ate alot of ceral. I hate myself for a day, that was certain. Cassidy didn't even visit me, speaking of...

I considered Cassidy and what he had said, but I put it aside. Whatever. Time to move on. Weekend was almost upon me and I needed to see what the plans were. I found my cell phone. A text was on it from Charlie ordering my presence tonight at some large pent house party. I was down.

The rest of the day was spent smoking a copious amount of marijuana and watching re-runs of The Office. It was kind of funny.

Night came, I got my drink on before I left and left with a buzz. Got a taxi and found my way to the place. Dominic and Charlie were outside devouring cigs left and right. We shot the shit a bit, shared a cig and finally went up to this huge place.

The DJ was all right, the lights were crazy, women walked around in barely nothing. Open bar. I was good. We did heavy lines in the bathroom with a few chicks that probably were just mooching cause they were skanks. I got trashed, mentally, physically, anything. I almost scored with this model chick visiting but some douchebag with gelled hair won. I was angry. Pissed. Dom was already with one girl and Charlie was just nursing drinks at the bar.

At some point I passed out and awoke still in the midst of scantly clad people, business suits and expensive booze. Dominic found me.

“We’re out. Boring.”

I nodded and followed, drunk and fucked the hell up. We stumbled along the snow drenched streets, half finishing cigarettes and shouting at random people. We laughed and everything and I wanted to drive a freight train anywhere. Maybe to Alaska.

We kept walking; Dominic and I started a debate about anal sex and regular sex and asked Charlie to weigh in. But he wasn’t there, he was in the snow writhing. Convulsing. Dominic and I said nothing and sprinted for our friend. Dom slid along the snow near him, checking his pulse.

“Give me your scarf!” He ordered. I did. He wrapped it around his hand and used some of it to put between Charlie’s teeth.

“Charlie, what the fuck man…” I said, I knelt down.

“Call 911.”

“We have drugs.”

“DO IT ANDERSON!” Dominic roared. I had never seen him this frightened. I called 911. Told them the cross streets. It moved so slowly. I gripped my friend’s hand, which squeezed mine constantly. I could hear sirens. I threw my shit into the gutter before they came. Red lights bathed the snow and our eyes. They took Charlie. Dominic went with him. I just sat in the snow and cried.