'So, friend,' Dylan said on their way home from church.
Sage groaned for the zillionth time in answer. He'd played around with the word countless times in the six hours since he woke up from his drunken slumber. They didn't have time to talk about their new status until noon.
You promised me a story, Dylan,' she reminded. 'That's the one reason you're still that word?'
'Your friend, you mean? I'm your friend because you want me to tell you stories? Oh, my friend, I'll tell you all the tales you'd—'
'Focus!' Sage cried as they also ran a red light, which made them almost crash into a pedestrian.
Dylan stopped the car. 'Now, friend, we have a bit of time to talk. Tell me your story first.'
'What story?'
'The one about your mother making you cry.'
Sage frowned. He'd caught her now.
'My mom is really strict with me when it comes to romance and men,' she said. 'As a young girl, she would tell me that I would die if I got married, or talked to a boy, or let anyone other than her touch me. Then, when I was fifteen, a boy harassed me. The boy got suspended, but my mom still punished me.'
It was like a burden was being lifted from her chest.
'She almost killed me,' she went a lot more freely. 'She wanted to demonstrate that a man's touch was like fire, so she…'
'Your own mother?' Dylan asked, obviously concerned. 'Why did you let her get away with it? You have all those human rights agencies and whatnot. Use them.'
'I couldn't send my mother to jail. I knew I'd be sent to a foster home or something if I did,' she said. 'I thought they'd be worse.'
'What about your grandparents?' Dylan asked.
'I never knew my mom's parents,' she said. 'and my mom never let my dad's parents weren't allowed to see me after his death. Just once; my fifteenth birthday. It's a big deal in the Spanish tradition.'
She felt his eyes on her as he asked, 'Do you have any scars?'
'No visible scars,' she said. 'I've hated fire ever since. It's a miracle I cook these days.'
Dylan looked away and started to drive again. 'I made your mother hate you even more. I'm sorry.'
'And that's why I need the money,' Sage said. 'I'll go far away from her if I get it. So, are we doing great?'
'We're doing greater than great,' he said apathetically as if he'd expected them to. 'Our week of fame is slowly ending, but it shows that we won all of London's hearts.'
'What should I expect for the other three weeks?' she asked.
'My family. If you leave right away, they'll suspect us for sure. You need to stay for a while.'
Sage nodded, then said, 'What about you and Angel? I used to think you were the heartbreaker.'
'He'd kick my arse if I did—pardon me,' he replied. 'Oh look; there's a public house nearby. Let's go there.'
'Public house?' she asked, perplexed.
Dylan parked them in front of what looked like a bar.
'Your promise comes before mine,' he said. 'I want to see you drunk.'
'Dylan,' she whined.
'True friends get lashed for each other, don't they?' he joked. 'Get lashed for me.'
Somehow, Dylan talked her out of getting out of the car and into a bar stool. He sat right next to her, leaving her in between him and another guy—her worst nightmare.
'A glass for her alone, please,' Dylan said.
'She yours?' asked the bartender, a stocky middle-aged man with greying salt-and-pepper hair.
'Yes,' Dylan said. 'I thought you might've heard.'
'You know me and the telly.' The bartender shook his head. 'What will you be having, Miss?'
'It's her first time,' Dylan said with a smirk. 'Surprise her, but be gentle.'
The bartender set a tall glass in front of her, then poured a liquid that reminded her of lemonade. 'Your light beer, madam.'
Sage stared at it, not knowing what to do next. 'Do I just down it?'
'If only someone told me what I'm about to tell you. Marc and I had our first beers here,' Dylan said. 'Don't rush. Take a small sip and let it settle in.'
'Sips huh?' She raised the glass to her lips. The stink of the beer alone deterred her from going further, but she felt the eyes of Dylan, the bartender, and the strange man beside her on her. She took the first sip, swallowed hard despite the bitter taste, then set the glass down to let the liquid burn her throat after swallowing.
'Feedback?' Dylan asked.
'Terrible. Disgusting. Why do you idiots love this stuff?' Sage asked.
He laughed. 'Should I give it to you the way I did at the party? You enjoyed white wine that way.'
'That's—that's so much worse!' she harrumphed. 'Don't forget our deal.'
'And you shouldn't forget yours,' he jibed. 'That whole glass needs to disappear, or your deal will also be off. I suggest you try taking gulps now, but not quickly. Not quickly at all.'
She mentally prepared herself before drinking a higher volume of the liquid. The second time wasn't better than the first, but at least it didn't suck more than it either.
'What was that about Marc?' she asked after a period of quiet. 'You had your first beers here?'
'That man—' Dylan subtly pointed to the bartender. '—has known me for nine years of my life. Marc brought me here three days before my eighteenth birthday. he was twenty by then but had promised that we would have our first drinks together. It sounded like a hard promise to make, since his father owns a popular winery.'
'He's pretty rich, then,' Sage said. 'You met at the mythical rich-people club?'
'Public school,' Dylan said. 'He was my tutor for a while, then my friend. Actually, the friend thing was a front. I liked him. Jesus—I loved him. He was utterly breathtaking back then, and he treated me better than others.'
'So what?' she said.
'I told him my feelings. He rejected them,' Dylan went on. 'Above all things, he said he couldn't love me; said he wanted to become a priest, and priests can't be in relationships.'
'Maybe he didn't want a gay relationship,' she suggested.
'He knew he was gay. He told me several times,' he corrected, 'so much that I thought he was hinting to me that he liked me. It hurt me when he refused. It really hurt.'
Sage took another gulp of beer. It was less disgusting than how savage Marc had been. Clearly, he had led Dylan on, made him think they could have something, but changed his mind when Dylan was ready.
'You still love him, don't you?' she asked.
'I try not to, but…' Downcast looked at his knees. 'And it's not completely love. Or is it? It's hard to explain.'
'Lust?' she asked.
'It used to be that, but I got over it when I learned more about him.' Dylan sighed. 'I hate thinking about this. I need a beer.'
'We can't have two drunk people in a car. Just shut up about it,' she said.
'I want to say more,' Dylan insisted. 'You're the first person I've ever told about this. Ever. It's probably about time.'
She took one more sip. Her glass was almost empty then. 'Maybe it's too public here. Let's get to your car before you shed tears.'
Dylan smiled a little. 'You're getting quite relaxed.'
The alcohol actually did feel like it had settled in. She felt her tongue becoming loose and her head getting light. It was why she suggested they go to the car.
She downed the last dregs of her glass, then let Dylan lead her by the hand into the back seat. They sat as far from each other as the space allowed.
'The whole story, am I right?' Dylan asked.
'Sure,' she replied. 'I've run out of questions anyway. Oh, I have one: Have you guys known each other?'
'Know…Jesus,' Dylan said. 'Loose and nasty.'
'Shut up and talk already,' Sage said.
He flushed. 'To an extent, yes. We—er—stopped at some point. We had already agreed we would stop there, but I wanted more still.'
'May I know who started everything?'
'Marc.'
Sage gagged. 'And you let him? After everything he did?'
'He had quite the hold on me,' he replied bashfully. 'He's like a bad habit—hard to quit. And he was hard, alright.'
'I still don't know what that means,' she blurted. She didn't know why she said that, but it felt good.
'Would you like to find out?'
'Totally.'
He put a hand on her shoulder. 'Is this okay?'
'What does this have to do with being hard?' she asked.
'It'll help me explain it to you,' he said. 'I'll tell you right now.'
'I want to know,' she whined.
He grinned at her, his hand rubbing her shoulder horizontally. She found herself grinning too. It felt good, his touch.
'When I was in secondary school, I met a boy. His name was Marcellus Aurelio Phoenix,' Dylan said. 'He was two grades my senior. Two years, really. He was part of a tutoring club made to help students excel—or whatever their slogan was. He was also the most desired tutor there, but when I needed a tutor, he chose me. I started to think he liked me because I also liked him.'
He placed a whole arm on both her shoulders.
'He came to my house almost daily, though he was supposed to come on Wednesdays only. He made me his friend. I wanted more, but I went along with it for his company. Sometimes, he would pull me close like…'
He hugged her. Sage grinned.
'…just like this. I melted into his strong, beautiful body. One of those times, I told him that I loved him. He thought I was joking, but I insisted. I told him over and over again, but he didn't say it back. He pushed me away. He told me to let go.'
Scared he would push her away too, she held him tight and begged, 'Don't push me. Don't push me.'
'Jesus,' Dylan muttered. 'Um…yes. I told him I couldn't let go. I went as far as saying he was too handsome to let go. He laughed in my face and said we would never work. He said we weren't compatible, that I was a heart-breaker while he wanted to be a priest. I said I never wanted to be separated from him, but I couldn't stop having those feelings. He told me to pray or call on The Lord if I had them.
'And ever since then, I haven't had true feelings for anyone else. I tried to, though. I've searched so many people for the same treasure I found in him…but I always go back to him in the end. Sometimes I think bringing the person over will make it hurt less. It doesn't work, to say the least.'
'In general, you still love him,' Sage said.
He hugged her a bit tighter, his hand on the back of her head. 'I don't want these feelings, Sage. I've prayed and cried so many times about it, but they won't go away. I wish I could find someone better, or something to distract me, because I know that no matter what happens, we'll never stay together.'
She pouted and looked him in the face. 'Your life sucks. Tell your friends.'
'The rich also weep, my only true friend,' he said.
'You look sad. How can I make you feel better?'
His mouth twitched but settled into the neutral expression Sage had never expected of him. 'Tell me a little about your depressing moments so I know I'm not the only one who's seen pain.'
A voice at the back of her head nagged her to shut up and get off Dylan, but she barely heard. It had been drowned out by alcohol.
'I told you my mom used to torture me, didn't I?' She rested her head on Dylan's chest. 'And I was really alone as I kid. I had friends, but they didn't last long. And my mom brought me up to live her dream, you know. I never had my own choice of career, and I'm so used to wanting to be a lawyer that I can't think of anything else to be. Then my dad…I didn't have one. There's that…'
Sage talked a great deal, though at some point it turned to gibberish or random questions. Dylan listened to it all, his body still the whole time.
'What made you so famous anyway? And get all this money?' she asked since she'd had the thought for almost a week.
'I was in a few adverts. A movie. I had a popular YouTube channel once. Otherwise, I'm on my father's payroll.'
'What movie?'
'Royal Love. I was the antagonist.'
'Did you break my hymen?' she asked, suddenly remembering Shelby and Divine.
'I really don't know,' Dylan said. 'There was some resistance, so all I knew was that you were a virgin.'
'I still kind of hate you for that, but you're awesome otherwise.'
'Awesome?'
'Yeah. You're a good kisser, you're nice, you're hilarious, and that's it.'
'Am I as handsome as I am awesome?'
'You're more handsome than awesome.'
'Oh really? But you never kiss me for my handsomeness. It's always because you stand to gain something.'
'Do you think I'm pretty?'
'Sage, I think you're radiant, not just pretty.'
'Do you kiss me for that?'
'I would if you let me.'
'I'm letting you now.'
'And what about the deal you always bring up, eh? That's out of the way?'
'Yes.'
Dylan narrowed his eyes. 'I must be getting drunk. We'd better drive home before I can't drive anymore.'
'I'm the only drunk one,' Sage corrected.
'Well, let's not kiss if we want to keep it that way,' he said. 'Lay down here while I drive responsibly.'