5' 8"-5' 9"
Noah was really nervous, and he couldn't tell what the reason was: his friends, who were about to perform for the first time after a long break, or Ethan, who agreed to join him. What if he doesn't like it? What if he decides that he shouldn't be here? What if he doesn't come?
Because he was way too nervous, Noah was the first one to arrive at 'I want you deadly!', so he had to go around in circles for some time in front of the main door and smoke one after another. He did try to calm down, but he didn't succeed. His heart was pounding like crazy; he even felt it in his head.
Ethan appeared exactly on time, the hour before the gig, just as they had agreed with Noah. Morgan ran his eyes over him unconsciously and sighed, taking the new cigarette out of the pack. He really wanted to write 'horny' on it, but he was too afraid that Ethan would notice it. So he smoked it just like that.
Noah had his reasons for thinking he was horny. Ethan looked as usual. He had his mask and fingerless gloves on, as usual. He had a big black and red hoodie on. And black and gray camouflage joggers. And some high boots with a thick sole. So, there was nothing going on with his looks for Noah to think about. Nothing! But then, again, he was! The band was also late, which left Noah alone with Ethan for way too long.
"They probably got stuck in traffic, or something," Noah mumbled, being torn by emotions. On one hand, he was unbelievably happy that Ethan did show up; on the other hand, he had no idea what to do next. Ethan didn't say anything, but it felt like the clouds were gathering around him. What if Noah said some nonsense and Ethan thought that he was an idiot?! "Do you mind if we don't go inside for now and wait for the others at the front door? They might need help unloading the instruments."
Ethan just shrugged his shoulders like 'I don't care'. The next ten minutes Noah spent trying to come up with the topic for the discussion, but, finally, he gave up and showed Ethan his collection of pictures, where Peanut and Fluffy were wearing different costumes, that Morgan bought them online too often.
"...And here's Peanut with Spider-Man socks on," Noah commented on every picture while checking on Ethan whether he was bored or not.
"Socks for cats? Goodness," Thomson exhaled, clearly smiling.
"You should've seen his face while I was trying to... Dang, I look like a town crazy, don't I?" Noah caught himself being taken away because he was showing a third dozen photos of his cats. It was the smallest part of his gallery, but it was still too much for a nearly stranger.
"Not at all. You share the things you love. What's wrong with that?" Ethan shrugged his shoulders. "The way society treats animals shows how mature and healthy it is."
"Oh, does it mean I'm mature?" Noah was happy.
"As mature as it's possible for a twenty-one-year-old," Ethan chuckled.
The band was almost half an hour late. The guys didn't just go out; they fell out of Andrea's mom's minivan, swearing back and forth at each other. Noah was sure that Steve, the lead singer, was the initiator of the fight, as usual. He sang well, but he was freaking out way better. He was always driving everyone nuts by giving uninvited advice before every performance. He, on the other hand, thought that this advice was very much needed.
"Your job is to sing. And not poke your nose into drums!" Pete snapped off, confirming Noah's suspicions.
"What should I do if you keep losing the beat and confusing all of us?" Steve spread his hands.
"I messed up only once!" Pete yelled.
"Which is only the beginning! And you, Scott, you need to rehearse more. Every time you're on stage, you look so tense, like you're about to give birth or something."
"Oh, look who's fucking talking!"
"Oh my God, stop!" Andrea grunted. "I've been listening to your harping for the past forty minutes. We're going to tune the instruments right now, or I'm getting into the car and leaving!" she stated. Considering her tone, she wasn't just saying it; she actually meant it. She could really get in the car and leave.
Scott got embarrassed. He didn't like when Andrea was mad at him. Pete grunted something quietly. Steve only wrinkled his nose, but then noticed Noah and Ethan and let loose an unpleasant, feral grin.
"I heard you've been trying to focus on your health, haven't you? How is it going? Feeling better now?" he mocked Noah and then looked at Ethan. "Hi, I don't think we've met," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. It was easy to tell by his behavior that he wanted to somehow benefit from Ethan. Steve was friends only with people he could get something useful from. He treated Andrea and other people from the band like his 'backup dancers'. Andrea would've kicked him out a long time ago if there had been a person to replace Steve with.
"We haven't," Ethan affirmed, ignoring his extended hand.
"My name's Steve," the front man introduced himself awkwardly.
"Ethan."
"What's bringing you into my bar today, Ethan?" when Steve wanted it, he could act like the heart and soul of the party. But he was rather soulless.
Adding 'my' to everything was another of Steve's nasty traits. According to him, the band was his (Andrea founded it, apparently). The places they visited were also his (in his dreams, maybe). Even the bubble-gum ice cream was his property; if someone ordered it, he had to listen to him say something like, 'Oh, you ordered my ice cream? Good taste!' It was even more frustrating than Steve's mercantilism.
"I came here with him," Ethan said, pointing at Noah.
"Blink if you're standing hostage!" Steve joked and laughed at it himself. Noah's mood was heading downhill fast. He couldn't imagine that Steve would want to chat with Ethan and humiliate Noah in front of him.
"I doubt that I can be taken hostage," Ethan said coldly.
"Of course not anymore! The older brother is here to protect you," Steve assured Ethan, patting his shoulder. Probably it was another joke. If it was true, the joke wasn't fun at all, at least because Thomson was the oldest one among the rest. Steve was definitely hinting at Ethan's height and his helplessness because of it.
"Interesting. Will the older brother be able to sing with a broken jaw?" Ethan's voice was metallic. He casually shook Steve's hand off his shoulder.
"I'm joking…" the singer frowned, not used to this level of straightforwardness.
"Me too," Ethan nodded. "Wasn't it funny?" he exhaled, burning a hole in the guy.
Steve mumbled something and headed to the main entrance first.
"Wow, there's finally a person in our group who can make Steve shut the hell up!" Andrea exclaimed in surprise.
"I'm not part of your group. I'm part of his group," Ethan nodded at Noah. Considering his behavior, it seemed like he decided to count the rest as his enemies. Why, just in case? Why did he talk with Noah so…casually then?
"That's even better! Thanks a lot!" Andrea hugged him, completely ignoring Ethan's rudeness. Noah scolded himself for not warning his tactile friend about the completely non-tactile Ethan. Thomson tensed, but tried not to show that he wasn't happy. Scott took a jealous look at Ethan, but then immediately looked away once their eyes met. Andrea continued chattering. She introduced Ethan to the other members of the band and then told everyone to go inside the bar.
Noah left Ethan at one of the closest tables near the stage and ran away to help Andrea. His main job was to argue Andrea out everytime she said something like, 'I'm ugly!', or 'I'm fat!'.
"...You look stunning, you know! You're gonna nail it! You will go there, perform like a goddess, and you'll look like a goddess!"
"No, I'm…"
"Don't say 'no'! You're a goddess!" Noah assured Andrea passionately, "Come on, repeat," he demanded.
"I'm a goddess. I'm gonna nail it!" she exclaimed.
"Damn right!" Noah nodded.
"I told you the same thing like a minute ago," Scott noticed, offended.
"You didn't sound convincing," Andrea waved off. "Okay, we start in ten minutes. Noah, you gotta go back to your table. I'll be thankful if you and Ethan start kissing passionately when we sing, 'Love is burning out my soul'!"
Noah choked on the air and made a 'cuckoo' sign. Andrea should control her fantasies. Ethan would definitely not agree to kiss. Unfortunately.
'Congratulations, Noah! Ethan was right! You're just like your cat, Peanut. Do yourself a favor, underloved; try to remember your pride and hold yourself when he goes to the restroom…'
5' 3"
After saying'sorry'' at least a thousand times, Morgan left to help his friend, leaving Thomson alone to explore this completely mediocre bar. Random chairs and tables. Random bar counter. Pathetic corner, where there was a ruined stage with a dull neon sign above it. Nothing special. Ethan went to the bar and ordered some iced coke. He would also order something for Noah with great pleasure, but he didn't know what he'd prefer today. The bartender didn't enjoy his order, which he made clear by his look. The service was neither five nor one star. Did the owner of this place really have no idea why this place wasn't popular at all?
When Ethan came back with his cold beverage, he stared at the stage, looking at the guitarists. Noah mentioned his friends before, and he probably meant that loud girl and the anxious guy with glasses—those who were sitting with Morgan in the cafeteria. It didn't go unnoticed for Ethan that other members of the band weren't thrilled, to say the least, about Morgan coming there. It was even good for him. It meant he didn't have to make nice with a group of strangers.
Besides Ethan, the band, Morgan, and the bartender, there were only ten more people at the bar. All of them were students. The majority probably didn't even know about the gig since they were watching the band set up with true interest. Ethan looked at every person; there were no familiar faces, so he looked back at his frosty glass with coke. Anyway, Morgan was the only reason he came here in the first place. So he decided that Morgan would be the only subject of his interest tonight.
"I think we've got off the wrong foot," Steve declared, running into Ethan's personal space. He took the other chair. Morgan's chair. Did he really consider himself immortal?
"You think so?" Ethan grunted skeptically, giving him a sullen look. He remembered his stupid phrase about 'the older brother' and shivered. He was just a conceited ass with zero brain cells. He should've thanked Morgan. If Noah wasn't here as well, Ethan would definitely start a scandal and, if he got lucky, a fight.
"Maybe I was being facetious."
"Maybe?" Ethan wasn't used to hiding his hostility. He always thought that telling the truth—that the guy was an idiot—was a lot more honest.
"I didn't mean to offend you, really," Steve added quickly, "I just wanted to say that if you have any questions, you can always come up to me."
"Why would I want to come to you if there's Morgan?" Ethan didn't want to temper justice with mercy.
"Speaking of Noah…" Steve suddenly became very serious, not noticing that Ethan got even more mad. Why the hell is he calling Morgan by his first name? He's not his friend! "Let me give you some advice: stay away from him," the singer stated pointedly.
Ethan clenched his teeth. Firstly, he hated uninvited advice. Secondly, he hated people who thought they had enough qualifications to give advice back and forth. Thirdly, Steve made it clear that he wasn't really fond of Noah, and Ethan would pay a hundred bucks to prove that it was connected with rumors, not with real reasons. Why are there so many dumb people around?!
"Why is that so?" he muttered, on the edge of showing violence.
"He has a bad reputation," Steve explained, trying to look smart, "And he's not from our league," he said graciously.
"What league are you talking about?" it seemed like Steve had just dug himself a grave, which made Ethan truly happy. Come on, boy, tell Thomson something about the league. Sooo interesting.
"About social leagues Your dad's Michael Thomson, right? He's a law legend. The founder of the biggest law company in California!" Steve was acting like a true expert, even though he had probably googled it a couple of minutes ago back in the store room, which they got as their dressing room.
"Okay," Ethan frowned, finally starting to understand why Steve was trying to establish contact with him. Thomson called people like him 'social vultures'. Steve couldn't care less about Ethan. What he cared about was his money and his family profile. Who wouldn't want to have a rich friend who could help them establish useful connections? Unluckily for Steve, there was the other side of his position: while trying to reach inaccessible heights, he had to tolerate every crazy thing Thomson would do. And he loved doing crazy things.
"And who're your parents?" Actually, Ethan wasn't interested; he just asked to confirm his suspicions.
"Clark and Eleonore Miller. We have our own printing house. Have you heard of them?"
Ethan hadn't heard of them, which wasn't good for Steve. Thomson didn't believe in social classes. He hated this division. His dad hadn't always had a mansion and a collection of Porsche cars. Ethan and Audrey's childhood was in a small, one-story house, and their family had to pay a huge mortgage. And then the father's career went up. Every new case brought not only money but also fame and acknowledgement. Ethan hadn't noticed how their family became a part of upper-class society. Dinner parties, tumid auctions, and endless charitable events became routine. The last thing pissed Ethan off the most: why do people gather to drink some wine to life-music in order to donate money on some pens and notebooks for children from poor families? Can't they just donate the money without all this wine, pathos, and obvious demonstration of their generosity?
There was only one advantage to all those dinner parties: Ethan knew all the families that were part of the city elite. And he didn't recall Steve's family ever being there. It didn't mean that Steve was lying. Neither did it mean that his parents didn't make good money. They were regular middle-class people, wishing to go up higher, not understanding how much shit this elite was hiding behind auctions and charity.
Steve wasn't the first person who wanted to make friends with Ethan, hoping to rise at his expense; that's why Thomson tried not to share too much about his family. However, if someone wanted, they could easily find all the information online.
"No, I don't know them," Ethan said coldly, "And I don't think that Morgan is a bad company," he emphasized.
"Don't you know about the rumors?!" Steve acted like he was extremely worried. "God, you probably haven't heard yet, and Morgan didn't even bother to warn you, of course. He has always acted like that!"
"Like what?" Ethan frowned. Apparently, Steve thought that he knew Noah well. He was wrong, of course.
"Careless. He doesn't care about anything," the singer shrugged his shoulders, "He doesn't care about anything or anyone."
"That's not true."
"How long have you known him? A few weeks? Trust me, he'll show his true self," Steve assured Ethan. "Or I'll do it for him," he pushed. "For example, has he ever told you that there are rumors of you being one of Morgan's clients?" The guy lowered his tone, hoping for a stormy reaction from Ethan.
"Yes, he has," Thomson proved, contrary to Steve's expectation, "He also said that he would get it if I didn't want to come to your gig with him," he added, staring at the vocalist, "Do people behave like that if they don't care about anything or anyone?"
"Well…Ugh…" Steve said, confused, "Are you…um…okay with that? Are you okay that people think that Morgan blows you?"
"It makes me mad," Ethan answered and continued rapidly, after catching Steve's triumph, "Why don't people think that I'm the one who sucks Morgan's dick? Or is it so obvious that I can't give a good blowjob? It's offensive, you know."
Steve stared at Ethan like he went nuts. Thomson was watching him think fast about how to deal with that situation and not get more negativity from the other person.
"I…I see what you mean. The rumor is indeed stupid!" Steve nodded after a short break. Aha, did he decide to turn the situation in his own favor?
"So, you're one of those who don't believe in rumors?" Ethan made sure, smiling unconsciously. He was slowly putting heat on Steve; the singer didn't notice it.
"Of course, I don't!" Steve said it passionately.
"However, the first thing you said when you met Noah was based on one of those rumors, am I right?" Ethan pointed.
"It was about Noah, not about you. Besides, I was… joking."
"We've already understood that jokes are not your thing," Thomson quipped and rejoiced, noticing that Steve frowned. Ethan was clearly making him mad. But he didn't have the guts to speak back, scared to lose a chance to become 'a friend' of a useful person. "What would you do if the rumors were true? What if I really sleep with Noah?"
"Oh, God, don't be silly. Why the hell would you need him?" Steve laughed tensely.
"How's that so… He's, by the way, quite handsome."
Steve got confused.
"You don't look like a person who needs to pay for sex," the singer said reluctantly.
"You're right. Maybe I don't. Maybe he sleeps with me for free because he's attracted to me? Or I can't be attractive?" Ethan let himself chuckle.
"Ha-ha! Is it a test, yes? I get it," Ethan didn't dare imagine that Steve could understand. "Of course, you'd never be with Noah, at least because you're out of his league!" these stupid leagues again. Are they in some game or something? "Besides, you're not gay!"
"Why am I not gay?" Ethan was purely surprised.
"If you were, everyone would know it!"
Dumb ass.
"Why would anybody know whether I'm gay or not?"
Steve was silent.
"So, you're gay, right?"
"I didn't say that," Ethan was clearly mocking Steve.
"Are you hinting at something? Or not?" the singer frowned.
"I am. But not on something you're thinking about," Ethan muttered, sliding his index finger on the edge of the glass, "When you hear rumors about Morgan, you think they're true. But when you hear them about me, you think they're nasty rumors. Why?"
"Because I know Morgan way too well!"
"You know nothing about him," Ethan interrupted Steve, "Knowledge isn't the reason here. You're telling me, 'Morgan is bad company. People gossip about him. Everybody thinks you've bought Morgan'. But… What does it have to do with Noah? Why do I have to be mad at him? He has done nothing bad to me. It's way more logical to hate all the dumbasses who start those rumors and spread them like a plague, right? They're the people who bully Morgan, right? The same people created the rumor about me, didn't they? It means they are guilty. You all are guilty. And you, too. It's not Noah's fault. Of course, the rumors won't cast a shadow on me. It's not advantageous to bully me. It's more trouble than it's worth. What if I, a spoiled rich kid, born with a silver spoon shoved up my ass, let's say, talked my daddy into buying some pathetic little print house of your parents? Or even better, sue it into the ground. Do you like it? It sounds legit, right?" Ethan stopped and, after understanding that Steve was too shocked to speak, continued, "Morgan is the whole other deal. He has no money, no coats, nothing, right? He's the perfect victim. The great whipping boy. You bully him, just like everyone else. You like hurting him, and so does the rest of your herd. And, the shittiest thing is that deep down, you're perfectly aware that Noah is being unfairly accused. But you're unable to stop because you like torturing him, don't you? It's convenient to hide your inferiority by bullying the other person, right? Well, I've got some bad news for you—it doesn't help. Because I see a moral moron in front of me, and only a circus is where you belong."
Steve stared at Ethan for a couple of seconds, completely stunned. He probably couldn't believe that he had been told everything right in his face. Nowadays, people usually text these things on Twitter, better anonymously.
"You… you… Screw you!" he was rather shocked than angry.
"I've just come here. And I don't plan to leave anywhere. Is there a problem with that?"
Steve couldn't bear Ethan's look, so he stood up from Morgan's chair and went to the stage, still processing what he had heard. Ethan continued staring at his glass, watching water drops slide down, and he did it till Noah's arrival.