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     Verger was thinking of how he was the equivalent of a pebble right now. How, if he let all of his air out and simply froze, there would be no difference between them. Just two negligible things sitting on the basketball court... With the occasional ball in the face.

     Verger's head snapped back with a pop of the neck and he almost fell sideways if it wasn't for the fence he blindly gripped. Only once he straightened up did the sting on his cheek kick in.

     He opened his eyes against the strands of hair on them and gawked at the court.

     "I don't care what your problem is." Troy began calmly. "If you don't practice and lose our upcoming match, I'm going to lose money and you don't want me losing money because of you."

     Verger held a hand to his face and huffed, glancing down at his pebble alter-self. "My friend Lorn-"

     "I don't give a fuck we're not friends!" Troy snapped, hands by his shoulders as if he was afraid Verger's problems would get to reach him. "Just wake up. If you're not playing tomorrow you won't be playing for life, I'll make sure of it." he eyed Verger's knees with a weird glint before walking out of the court.

     Verger used the hand that was still gripping the fence to get up. Looking around, he watched his teammates move towards the gate.

     "Hey Sand?" he tried, but the man simply ignored him. "Adolf?"

     Adolf turned at him curiously, pocket knife in hand. He was scratching what looked like rust off the blade... No it wasn't rust.

     "Never mind." Verger scratched his neck, watching the man stroll away while trimming the tips of his beard. "Chuck?"

     Chuck was crouched above his backpack, watching him the way he always watched everyone. He never took or placed anything in the backpack, like spare shirts or water of bottle or anything. He just had it sometimes.

     "Wanna hang out?" Verger asked. The guy's blank expression remained as so for long several seconds, while Verger scratched his ear.

     Then Chuck stood up and offered a curt nod, walking out of the court. The backpack was funnily big compared to his scrawny self, especially from where Verger saw him. The fluffy mess that was his hair rose above the bag, dancing wildly in the wind.

     With a small smile, Verger followed.

 

     "Fuck." Lorn cussed the second a crack was heard below them. Hugging the top of the wall better, he took some weight off his legs.

     "You good?" Otie asked.

     "Yeah." Lorn sighed, placing his chin on his crossed arms.

     Lorn and Otie were buddies, and from time to time they would come here, climb the tree and peek above the big wall surrounding a building. This way, they'd get perfect view on a second floor apartment in which a fine girl lived and... well, they weren't spying to see her make cookies.

     Stay in school, don't do drugs and close the goddamn curtains kids!

     "She should be home by now..." Otie complained, glancing at the wristwatch he made himself. Then again, most of his stuff was made by him at the garage he worked at. He was the man Lorn trusted on fixing up the broken lamp.

     "She should be moaning by now." Lorn grumbled. "Like every damn Friday, with that fuck-head that does not deserve her. Seriously, I wish I'd just punch that prick in the face and take his place."

     "But then I'd have to spy on you." Otie said, at which Lorn scoffed with a roll of the eyes. "Not that I'd mind."

     Lorn turned his head at him, his expression similar to the one he'd pull right before getting into a fight. His lips straight, his jaw clenched and nose flaring.

     "You had to go there? You think it's funny?"

     "Yeah I think it's funny that you've been avoiding your friend for a week only because some other dude blew you."

     "It's not that!" Lorn clenched a fist. "Just shut the fuck up about it. Look, she's here." his eyes squinted in the light coming from the window.

     Otie chuckled and turned to look, just in time for Lorn's phone to ring. The man fished it out and clenched it until his fist shook before slamming it on the top of the wall.

     The screen displayed Verger. And the melody playing was dumb.

     "Stop it, she'll hear us." Otie hissed.

     "No, he'll know I'm near the phone and keep calling." Lorn said, bobbing his head on the melody with his lips pursed and knuckles tapping the wall.

      Otie sighed and went to hang up. Thing is, he'd changed his own phone so that the answer button and end button would be switched: he was left handed and it was a bother pressing the button closest to his thumb when picking up. Thus, he accidentally answered the call out of reflex.

     "Oh fuck you." Lorn complained.

     Otie rolled his eyes and picked up the phone before pinning it to his friend's head. Lorn took hold of it and moved his eyes back to the window, watching the girl stumble in with that dick glued all over her.

     "Stop calling me."

     "This is Sand. Your friend is in a coma."

     Lorn's breath escaped his body. Tingles went from the tip of his fingers all the way to his soles, leaving a trail of numbness behind them. The scenery around faded out completely, even time, leaving him wrapped in a long, terrific present.

     Blinking several times, he managed to bring the window back into focus. Gasping a breath, he cleared his throat faintly and looked around.

     "What?" he whispered. "What did you just say to me?"

     "I said this is Sand. Your friend is in a coma."

     Lorn gulped heavily and pushed away from the wall, stumbling into the trunk. Gripping a random branch for balance, he looked at Otie helplessly, the man staring back.

     "What?" Lorn said.

     "Verger injected something into his elbow. He just now stopped having a seizure of sorts."

     "Where is he?" Lorn croaked out, his throat suddenly very dry. "Where is he?" he swung onto a lower branch and just jumped down, tumbling to his knees.

     "You know the Ocean shop? To the left there's an alleyway and at its end there's this fence that leads to a big empty place with trash cans all around... you know it?"

     "Yes." Lorn panted.

     "Well it's not that way."    

     "What the fuck is your problem!" Lorn yelled.

     "It's to the right of the shop. You go through this tunnel of rusty garages and then we're in an open, shitty looking one. Red. With the graffiti of a giraffe showing her lady parts."

     Lorn sighed in relief, knowing that to be near his place. "Okay. Did- did you check his pulse? Cover him with something- call 911 or-" he glanced back when Otie tumbled down from the tree as a mess of awkward limbs. "Do something!"

     "Not touching that..."

     "You piece of shit-eating dick!" the call was ended and Lorn was left gawking into distance. Upon focusing his vision, he saw Otie look at him wearily.

     "What happened..."

     Lorn looked around in distress and fought for breath, trying to search his mind for the directions towards his home. 23 years proved useless as the entire mental map of the street went down the drain.

     "Where do I live?" Lorn stuttered, eyeing the warehouse in the distance.

     Otie pointed, and Lorn ran.

 

      Lorn was crouched down, fighting for breath. The hand he kept over his mouth didn't help, but it was what kept it from gaping.

     Shaking his head, he leaned in and unstrapped the rubber band wrapped tightly around Verger's upper arm, and then, with a shaky flinch, pulled the syringe out of his elbow.

     "Couldn't you have done that yourself?" he asked Sand in barely restrained anger. "You just stood there?"

     "Who knows what's on that thing." Sand murmured. He was leaning against the rusted metal wall, eyes jumping from Chuck to Verger, back to Chuck and then Lorn, repeat. He eventually broke the cycle to glance at his phone.

     "I will hurt you next time we meet." Lorn growled. "Call an ambulance."

     "And have them put him in rehab? Or jail? Sure thing." Sand rolled his grey eyes. "Look, my cats are waiting for dinner so I'll leave you to it."

      Lorn ignored the man. In turn, Sand toyed with his short sandy hair and then walked away.

     "Verger?" Lorn eyed his friend sorrily. He wiped the saliva trailing down his chin and wiped his hand off Chuck's shoulder. "Verger..." he slapped his cheek, but to no use.

     If he though Verger's eyes were annoyingly inexpressive before, he had another thought coming. Sure they were half closed as always, but the pupils were so dilated the brown was just an outline, and there was no glint to them, because God knew when he last blinked to wet them.

     Lorn's throat swollen up and so he glanced away, at Chuck.

     He was staring at Lorn.

     Of course he'd be conscious, by the looks of him it'd take more than a 'hit' to get him going.

     Without hesitation, Lorn gripped his green jacket that looked as if stolen from a little kid and pulled him close.

     "What did you do to Verger?"

     The pair of dry-mud eyes gazed into him with the same lack of glint matching Verger's. Other than the shaking caused by Lorn's tightly clenched fists, the man moved none.

     "Look, boy, I can crush you. I can seriously crack your skull with just a punch." he hissed. "Tell me how to fix him." with that, he slammed Chuck back into the wall.

     And like that, wrinkles cracked the boys face as a big, big grin emerged. The slight gap between his front teeth was now visible, along with the rows of perfectly white pearls.

     Lorn clenched his jaw and took a calming breath, then stood up with the boy still in his grip. Keeping firm hold of his clothes, he strolled to the exit and literally threw Chuck out, who in turn stumbled to the ground. Then Lorn darted the backpack out and watched Chuck gawk at the remaining utensils inside while hugging his backpack.

     Lorn shook his head and raised an arm to reach the handle of the garage door. He pulled it down with a loud screeching sound, ended with a thud as it hit the concrete.

     Darkness settled over the place and Lorn blindly walked to the middle of the room, where he knew a light bulb to hang by a cable. Pulling a thin chain, he turned the light on and looked at his friend.

     It was silent for a moment. He could hear the thin chain swing quietly, and the cement dust on the ground scratch the soles of his boots as he moved a little.

     But then, despite not emanating a sound, the grin that suddenly erupted onto Verger's face broke the silence. Well, practically it was Lorn's gasp that did.

     "Thank fuck you're okay!" Lorn placed a hand on his heaving chest.

     But then Verger's upper body started sliding sideways and he fell to the ground like a boneless corpse.

     Lorn hurried to him and knelt down, brushing Verger's hair away to reveal that same taunting grin, a perfect imitation of Chuck's. "Jesus, what did you take?" he whispered, looking to the side.

     There was a spoon on the ground with a drop of weirdly colored liquid left in it. Then there was a lighter, several cotton balls and a small bottle, all scattered around carelessly. Seeing such things next to his friend made Lorn want to gag.

     "Come on, now." Lorn murmured, raising his body enough to settle himself on the wall. With that, he placed his friend's head onto his lap and got on brushing away the dust stuck to his face from the fall.

     Once done, he started rubbing his arm and chest to keep him warm while keeping his eyes closed with a hand. He then scratched his belly, to comfort himself more than anything. The way you feel content when patting a plush toy, Lorn's nerves calmed down doing this.

     But that calm came with tiredness of keeping himself pulled together.

     Now, Lorn from all people knew that crying solved not one thing. He couldn't remember for the life of him when he last did it. But at that moment, as he witnessed his best friend lay there in a grinning coma because of him, he just gave up.

     Well, he had an excuse. There was no marker around in order to draw Dickbutt.

 

     Lorn had been awake for some time now. He genuinely couldn't tell how long. The light bulb must've stopped working sometime during the night because they were now left in darkness yet again. The metal walls didn't let one inch of light peek in, and so it could be a rain of meteors outside without them knowing.

     Verger was sitting up, his back hunched. His neck was doing its job of supporting his head for once, but it kept it tilted towards the mess of utensils on the ground.

     At one point, it felt painful for Lorn to be in his body. His muscles ached to stretch and his bones nearly popped on their own, so he slowly extended his legs and arms, stretching.

     Verger only moved his head an inch towards him, not enough to see his face, and then retreated it.

     Lorn cleared his throat and settled down. "Are you all right?"

     His friend took his time in responding, then did so by chuckling faintly, voice similar to that of a ghost at the very back of the hallway you were in.

     "I must go back." he said. "It was... Whoa." he rubbed his face. "Can you imagine... Chuck feels that throughout the day. He's able to feel that while conscious. He mastered this stuff! I must..."

     "Verger, no." Lorn breathed out.

     "Why not." the man snickered. "It's not like there's anyone I should stay clean for."

     "I'm sorry."

     Verger turned his head towards him this time, watching from above his shoulder. The circles under his eyes beat the darkness around and they shadowed his eyes despite there being no light.

     "One week." he said.

     "I had my reasons."

     And Lorn did have. Sure, the first three days were spent in a rage at rainbows and everything they stood for but then, after a particular text from Verger filled with profanities and blasphemies, he realized his friend was genuinely angry at him and their friendship was in danger. That gave him the idea to try and get his lamp fixed before meeting up, like a gift of sorry.

     "Well I have my own reasons to keep taking the stuff." Verger grinned. It stood no chance to the grin plastered on him last night.

      It was then that Lorn hugged him.

     It wasn't one of those sappy anime hugs from behind with his face shoved in the man's back and hands clenching his shirt dramatically.

     In fact, it was a slow, twitchy movement towards the man, followed by the hug itself. His arms took their time in finding their spot, one completely wrapping his shoulders and ribcage and the other one hooked around his narrow waist.

     With that, he rested his cheekbone on his left shoulder blade and tightened the hug until they were pressed together. He felt Verger relax into him as if his attitude was leaving his body muscle by muscle.

     Verger eventually sighed, tilting his head to rub it up Lorn's.

     "This feels much better." he sighed.

     Lorn raised his head to look at his friend, and only upon doing so did he notice the proximity between their faces.

     Verger observed how Lorn's eyebrows were pinched slightly in a thoughtful manner, and then the man's eyes lowered to his jaw.

     "You..." he paused before scoffing. "Remember what you said at the party?"

     Verger glanced to the side, the corner of his lips raising. "Barack Obama is white on the inside?"

     Lorn laughed that surprised laughter of his, eyebrows up and eyes squinted. "That was a good one but no." he snorted. "I meant..." he sighed, then jerked his head once, lips touching Verger's cheek. "You happy now?"

     Verger's eyes gazed into distance, left and right, his mouth slightly parted. Then, faster than Lorn had time to process, he snapped his head towards him, meaning to steal a kiss.

     And he was just there, their upper lips were pressed against each other, but just as Verger was about to trap Lorn's mouth, a slit of light stole their eyes.

     Someone was struggling to open the garage.

     The two friends sat there frowning as the metal door shook and rattled, inching up only to centimeter down. And then it dropped with a thud, followed by pained screaming of a foreign voice. It had landed on the person's fingers.

     Lorn quickly untangled himself from Verger and hurried there. Bending down, he gripped the garage door and slid it all the way up, a wave of light storming in along with Chuck.

     The boy fell to his knees once he reached the utensils and shakily got on gathering them, his backpack beside him. Verger remained sitting next to him. Lorn couldn't see his face from the side, but his body language transmitted his reaction upon seeing Chuck like that.

     The boy locked eyes with Verger at one point, but then quickly looked back at Lorn. He was wearing his deadpan stare, eyes widen and lips slightly parted at the middle, but there were traces on his face that signalized terror.

     He lastly picked up the spoon and licked the remaining drop of drug in it before darting it in the backpack. Hugging the thing to his chest, he scrambled to his feet and then against the wall, sliding along it with his eyes locked on Lorn.

     The man made no move to stop him, just stood there watching him in pity. When he reached the edge, Chuck turned around and ran for it. His scrawny figure got tinier and tinier as he ran into distance, legs all over the place and hair a messy mane.

     Lorn looked back at Verger, who was slowly walking towards him.

     Once he stepped into the light, the man looked up at Lorn. His eyes were light brown once again and tearing up at the sudden brightness. He looked confused... or maybe disappointed at what he saw.

     Lorn let his torso hunch in tiredness and ruffled his hair, then looked away from his friend and arranged his tight black long-sleeve t-shirt around. Then, he sighed.

     The silence. It was the sort of silence that settled when something is unfinished and expected to be done. Like the silence after a joke and before the punch-line, or after a fight and before the apologies, or after a question and before the answer.

     So Lorn cupped Verger's head and leaned in, pecking him on the lips. Their noses side by side, their mouths just slightly parted, the tips of their shoes pressed together.

     And when Lorn pulled back, Verger gawked at him openly, eyes widen despite the sun. He looked Lorn up and down: his thin strands of hair were ruffled all around, his shoulders uneven, torso hunched, face tired...

     "You're so good to me, I'm sorry." Verger stuttered, not even beginning to know what to say.

     Lorn laughed two 'ha's. "We had more intense, no biggie." he sketched a grin, then darted an arm around Verger's shoulder and led him away.

     "Yeah." Verge breathed out, mental images of their police-chase make-out strolling in along with other memories of them. "So how about that Dickbutt?" he chuckled, rubbing his face.

     "Oh just you wait until we get home. I'll carve it into your skin with a toothpick, you stupid, stupid fuckhead." he squeezed his friend, who in turn huffed.

     "Missed you." Verger murmured.

     Lorn nodded, physically unable to use sappy terms. With a last glance at the garage, they entered his apartment complex.

     "Listen, that gay shit earlier? Don't get used to it 'cause it won't happen again."

     Verger squinted. "Is that a challenge?"

So I seem to be putting a lot of effort into this book. The cover took me ages, and then I'm planning to do several Sims 2 videos on this (sim Verger and Lorn to the right). [speaking of which, I ask that you choose a scene you want me to sims2-ify]

And yet. It has so little views :(It's why it takes me so long to upload, I lack the motivation. I do believe my wattpad career is twitching downwards... after all there're so many books an author can post before people get bored. Oh look at me ramble.

Where I'm trying to get is, could you guys support me a little? After all I'm writing... hundred pages and a comment only takes a few words. Sorry for being so greedy but I literally can't write when in lack of support.

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