A bar in the basement
You're not just a friend
You're me born again
We'll be in this race until the very end
-- The Strokes, Welcome to Japan
Tonight’s venue wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. The entrance was closer to what he’d been expecting, a handful of stairs leading into a basement; the door was a hole in the wall. Inside, however, the ceiling was high and the bar itself was spacious, exposed brick and industrial beams. A row of windows lined the top portion of the walls, showing the crowd’s shoes outside. In one corner was the bar, in the other a mysterious door with no labels, and at the opposite end of the room a massive wall framed with duct tape. A group of people painted it, so Theodore assumed patrons were free to do so.
The first thing they did was hit the bar for Laith’s beer. The crowd was much thicker in this corner of the room, a moving mass of bodies carrying drinks over their own heads. Theodore wasn’t old enough to buy alcohol yet, so the entire exchange was straight up stupid; Laith ordered his own beer, took the money Theodore had offered and paid for it himself—three bottles. The feeling of superiority, that Theodore was the one taking Laith out died right there, before it could even blossom.
With beers in hand, they parted from the swarming crowd and took a booth by the wall. Theodore took the seat with a view of the communal wall while Laith sat facing the front door, masks and bottles down on the table. The crowd in front of the wall was too thick to let Theodore see it, but the space above was filled with colorful caricatures and song lyrics, which led him to believe the bottom wasn’t much different. A very precarious ladder full of people leaned on the wall so they could reach the higher and less densely designed parts of it, arms extended with pens and brushes in hand.
Laith sipped on a bottle. “Ryan’s housewarming went about the same way things always do with us, except that time I wasn’t in the middle of the fight.” His voice was just above the music, not so loud that their neighbors could hear it too.
“Are you staying out of trouble by choice or because Ryan has his eyes on somebody else now?”
Laith grimaced with disgust. “That’s not how it is. Ryan’s a dick to everyone, not just who he’s interested in; you know that. He just got under Emily’s skin more than mine that day. Obviously, nothing happened between him and Justin, but he’s still trying. Half-trying, I guess; he’s not super committed to it.”
“Why is he even trying?”
That question got a disinterested shrug from Laith, eyes roaming the room, bottle against his lips. Theodore watched the way it pushed on them, leaving a brief imprint behind, shiny with beer.
“He has a fucked up sense of humor, and it doesn’t help that Justin’s so creative with his rejections. I think they’re both in on it; Justin’s too chill to get mad about something like that.”
“Why does Emily care, then? If it’s all just a joke.”
“It wasn’t a joke at first; it became one later. She’s getting used to it now, but still doesn’t think it’s funny.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s whatever. Justin’s fine with it, so I don’t care. At the end of the day, that’s really what matters.” Laith watched the room very avidly, almost too focused on tracking the crowd that walked past. No one really glanced at them or made too much eye contact, avoiding him.
“Are you looking for someone?” Theodore asked.
Green eyes found his face, but only for a moment. “No.”
“You look like you are.”
“I don’t know anyone here. I haven’t been up in a minute, but I didn’t think it’d been that long.”
“Were you supposed to know someone?”
Their eyes met again, but this time Laith held the stare, studying him in silence. It felt way too nice. “What’s your major?” Laith’s tone was conversational, edging on sweet, a clear attempt to lessen the impact of such a drastic subject change.
“Business.” His answer was diligent, playing along with this new narrative as if he hadn’t noticed the dissonance.
Laith made a face. “I either have no idea who you are, or your father has you wrapped around his finger.”
“Both assumptions are correct. You don’t even know what I think about you.”
“What do you think about me?” Curious now, Laith cocked his head a bit, beer bottle almost done.
“Finish that beer and I’ll tell you.”
That received a skeptical squint in return, but Laith did as told anyway. His compliance was mesmerizing. Addictive, even. With his heart jumping in his chest and something bubbling in his veins, Theodore reached for one of the full bottles and offered it to Laith, eyes meeting over it. Suspicion was written all over Laith’s face, but still he took the offer, fingers careful not to touch Theodore’s. Huh.
“I think you’re not all you seem.” Theodore’s voice was small, just loud enough to travel above the music. A dark eyebrow raised in response to that, the scarred one with a split near the end. “There’s a lot to you that I don’t know. Like, what happened to your eyebrow?”
A bright grin pushed dimples into Laith’s face, stunning. It knocked Theodore breathless. “That’s it? That’s what keeps you up at night? You look at me and that’s the question that haunts you?"
“It’s one of them.”
Laith scoffed out a laugh, bringing the beer up for a sip. Unfortunately, sitting on his right side, Theodore couldn’t see the bruises or the cut, unless, of course, Laith turned all the way around. A tongue swiped over his lips, so ephemeral that Theodore almost missed it, bottle down on the table again. “Childhood accident. I cut myself with some glass.” Green eyes shone under the fairy lights that littered the place, fixed on Theodore. “Now tell me what happened to you.”
His blood ran cold. “What happened to me?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what you mean; I’ve never had an accident like that. Never broken a bone, either.” The lie left him as naturally as if it were true. He didn’t even flinch.
“Didn’t you crack your skull open?”
“What?” Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. “No, of course not.” Why had Ryan told him that?
“When Ryan dropped you on your head. He said you were very small.”
“I don’t know anything about that. He lied.”
His heart raced. The aftermath of that moment was accurate, but the lie was strange; Ryan hadn’t dropped him at all. Of course telling others it’d been an accident removed all culpability from him, the ugliness that had driven him to push Theodore down the stairs. Still, the fact he’d told Laith about it was weird, veiled behind faux innocence. At twelve years old, Ryan hadn’t been the one to blame anyway, but pretending that he hadn’t done it on purpose was simply incorrect.
Laith glanced off, eyebrows quirking a bit. No response came. Good; Theodore wanted to change the topic now.
“Are you an only child?” Theodore asked.
“No, I’m the youngest, just like you.”
“How many siblings?”
Laith drank instead of answering, disinterested in continuing this conversation.
“How many siblings do you have?” Theodore pushed, sterner now. It caught Laith’s attention, but only for a moment.
“One. She’s an engineer, works at some big company; I don’t know. She moved out years ago.”
“You mean from your parents’ house.”
“Yeah, from my parents’ house. Where else would I be talking about?” Underneath the humor of that statement, there was a twinge of annoyance, similar to Carolyn’s flimsy composure. Laith’s eyes were on the crowd the whole time, emotionally distant from both the table and the current subject. So family wasn’t a welcome topic; message received. Theodore would try something else then.
“What’s going on tonight?”
That question finally secured Laith’s attention, this time on Theodore’s forearms. One rested flat on the table while the other was propped up on an elbow, chin cupped in that hand. Without a word, Laith reached forward and tugged on Theodore’s watch, turning the dial to read it. Theodore watched him curiously. Laith’s fingers were soft on his wrist, very close to his face. He moved back far too soon.
“I’m meeting the guys later,” Laith answered.
“At the DP?”
“No, but that’s our destination. We usually meet up somewhere less crowded, because the DP is a goddamn warzone. It’s the biggest structure around.”
“Where are you meeting?”
Laith looked at him from the corner of his eye. “You’re not slick, man; I can see right through you.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not giving you anything you want here. I’m not telling you about myself and I’m not telling you about the tunnels either. You’re wasting your time.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t care about any of that; I just want to spend time with you.”
“Are you sure we’re not here because you’re curious? You’re tempted; I see it on your face.”
“I mean, sure, I’m curious, but that’s not why I’m talking to you. If I wanted to know about the tunnels, I’d just go there. There’s an entrance right next to where I live.”
“Nah, that’s not the kind of commitment you’re looking for. You want to know about it, but only through someone else. You went to Ryan before, and now you’re coming to me.” Laith finished off the second bottle and set it aside.
“Why are you here?” That question was almost too quiet to be heard, sincerity in every word.
Laith shook his head, reaching for the last bottle across the table. “I don’t want you down in the tunnels, so I’m keeping you company as if that would stop you from going.” He scoffed. “I don’t think you’d go down, but like you said, what’s stopping you from doing just that the moment I turn around? I obviously don’t know you like I thought I did.”
“Yeah, you do; we’re cut-outs of the same fabric, haunted by creatures that no one else is afraid of.”
Laith kept his eyes down, deep in thought.
“Remember the lake?” Theodore asked, continuing before Laith could give him an answer. “That was only one nightmare amid thousands that follow us everywhere we go, waiting for one slip-up to pull us in. We both know where we’re gonna end up, how it’s all gonna go down; the only difference between us is you’re not running from it. So, yeah, you know who I am.”
“You’re not running either; you know you can’t. You’re just afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Staring into the abyss and liking what you see.”
His heart skipped. “I already know I’ll like it.” The confession came from the depths of his soul.
Laith’s lips curled into a smile, bottle pressed against them. Water rings littered the table. “Have you seen the entrance up this street, Sunset?”
“Sunset? No, I don’t think so. I don’t know much around here.”
Laith turned to look at him. His left elbow rested on the table, beer bottle in his right hand. The bruises on the side of his face were clearly old, but still terrible, under eye scab the result of a cut. Even his nose had a faint scar across the bridge. “Sunset is an Alvorada entrance. The stairs open up to a pretty desolate hallway at first, kinda dark, with very little functional lightbulbs. It bends to the right, where the old ticket booths were supposed to be, but have long been turned into stores, lit up by orange neon bulbs and signs. Further ahead, past the would-be ticket gate is the Sunset market, full of stores and authentic little restaurants; all kinds of food. Every light bulb and sign is orange, sometimes accompanied by white, sometimes yellow, but never more encompassing than orange. That’s how you know you’re at Sunset.”
Theodore could feel just how wide his eyes had grown, an open display of interest that kept Laith talking.
“Do you know what we did with the train tracks? At most stations, they were turned into boardwalks to facilitate crossing, but at Sunset, we installed a couple of steps down into the gap, where stands and businesses line both walls, all the way down to Burnt Cane, west from here. That’s where I’m meeting your brother later.”
“What color is Burnt Cane?”
“This whole area is orange. Burnt Cane has repair stores and furniture pieces; gadgets hanging from every ceiling, shelves full of trinkets and extremely specific mechanical parts. They can fix up your phone, jailbreak it or create an entirely new one. The people who live there are all freaks.”
“Where do you live?”
Laith grinned. “Get me some more beers and maybe you’ll find out.”
Theodore held the stare for a moment, but left anyway; that was too good of a deal to pass up. Because of the bill from before, there was only enough money left in his wallet for four more bottles. After that, he’d have to withdraw from an ATM, or his father would know he visited some sketchy bar near Ryan’s place. Knowing who his father was, he’d rather not push his luck.
It was only when Theodore reached the bar that he remembered he wasn’t old enough to do this. Would the barmen care? They’d seen him with Laith earlier; maybe that wouldn’t warrant another ID check. He placed the money on the counter and very confidently asked for beer. Luckily, the barman that had rung Laith up recognized Theodore and gave him what he wanted. A breath left his chest.
With two bottles in each hand, he walked back to their table, where Laith sipped on the last of his beer, eyes down at his phone. Theodore placed the bottles down and reclaimed his seat, watching Laith type for a moment, a blue glow over his face. When he was done, he set the phone down and passed the bottles a glance.
“Are you buying me off, Theo?”
“Is it working?”
A good-humored grin cut brilliantly across Laith’s face.
“Which entrance leads to the DP?”
Theodore’s question got a thoughtful hum in response as Laith reached for another beer. “I guess the closest one is Victoria; not as many rides to take from there. The DP is deep in the underground system, right in the middle of the web, so pretty much every station leads there. I live right next door.”
“Of course you would. What color is the DP?”
“Pink. It’s the most prominent color across the entire system.”
“Right. You said the place was huge, so it makes sense.”
“It’s not just a club, but I think you got that by now. The DP is more like a district than anything else, with its own set of rules and services. Every entrance is closely monitored by Burman’s men and all factions are allowed in. It’s neutral territory, so people try to behave. Obviously, we have other clubs too, but those are just places to have fun, not an empire of cash flow and business opportunities. If anyone’s dumb enough to create trouble in there, they’re usually disowned by their faction, so the others can still go in. Getting banned from the DP is the worst thing you could do to yourself.”
“What do you do in there?”
“Almost anything you could think of, from extremely fucked up shit to a great Friday night.”
“No, I mean you. You said you work for Burman, so what do you do?”
Laith held the stare, beer bottle pushed against his lips. “Classes start next month, right? You’re on vacation right now.” Another drastic subject change, but this one was a lot more intentional than the other, spoken as Laith stared him in the face. Theodore nodded, so Laith continued. “What have you been doing with your free time? Jogging up to Ryan’s apartment and not going in?”
Dammit.
“I’ve been having fun. Drinking, partying, making friends. What else are you supposed to do in college?”
Laith’s lips sharpened into a smirk. “Those girls you were jogging with, do they live with you?”
“Yeah, the three of us and two others. It’s a full house.”
“Which one are you sleeping with?”
His heart jumped up to his throat. “We’re not sleeping together; it was just a one-time thing. She was curious and I was there.”
A scarred eyebrow lifted with Laith’s interest. “What’s her name?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not attacking you.” Laith almost laughed, one more beer done with.
Theodore went ahead and passed him another one. “And I’m not getting defensive; this is just something no one seems to understand. We don’t like each other; we just fooled around once and that was it.”
“Oh, I get it; that’s fine. I wasn’t implying anything.” Of course Laith would be the one to get it; he was the only one who ever got anything. “What parties are you going to? Clubs or houses?” The next part seemed to be added as an afterthought. “Is Streisand still around?”
“Yeah, Streisand’s around; throws parties every week. There are a few clubs nearby that are pretty nice, but we mostly go to houses, so we can drink. Plus, they’re cheaper to get in.”
“What’s Streisand doing now? She was supposed to have graduated three years ago.”
“Four, actually. Last I heard, she changed her major to Philosophy.”
Laith’s phone lit up, lying face-up on the table, no buzzing or chime. The light drew Theodore’s attention, eyes instinctively glancing down to inspect it. A single message was on the screen with Ryan’s name on it—are you coming? Their eyes met over the phone; Laith had seen him read the message. It’d been an accident, but still his cheeks burned. A quick apology rose up, ultimately swallowed down.
“Well?” A hand flipped up with the question, Laith’s tone something between patronizing and teasing. “Is this it, or am I gonna be late?”
“You still have three beers to finish. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste, huh?”
“I guess not.” Instead of texting Ryan back, Laith finished off his current bottle. He wouldn’t shotgun all these just to make it in time, would he? As insurance, Theodore took one and held onto it, fingers pressing on the cold glass, wet with condensation. Laith simply started on the next one.
“You might be a little late, but it’s for a good cause,” Theodore tried, watching Laith’s Adam’s apple bob as he drank, fern leaf crawling up the side of his neck. He briefly wondered how it’d feel to press his lips right there, on the warmth of Laith’s skin, pulse jumping under his tongue. The thought left him as quickly as it’d come, eyes wide, heart beating wildly.
A second later, Laith brought the newly empty bottle down. So he was shotgunning them.
“What are you guys doing at the DP?” There was a hint of desperation in Theodore’s voice that he hoped would go unnoticed. Taking Laith’s sobriety into account, he believed he had a good shot at it.
Green eyes passed the bottle in his possession a glance, hand reaching for the otherwise last available one on the table. How long had they been here? An hour and Laith had already drunk five beers? Theodore didn’t want to check his watch in case taking his eyes off of Laith would let him slip away. Still, he must be hammered.
“Partying.” Laith shrugged, loose and simple. This time, he sipped conservatively, probably because he thought this was the last bottle. “There’s always something to do at the DP. I think the drag show Emily wants to watch is tonight, actually, so we’ll probably go to that.”
“Drag queens in the DP?”
“Of course. There’s a place for everyone.”
“And Ryan’s into it?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t he be?”
“I don’t know; he’s so full of hatred, I thought…” Theodore shrugged, trailing off. Clearly, he didn’t know who his brother really was, considering Ryan was attracted to men and had even slept with one—maybe more—without ever telling anyone about it. Anyone above ground, that was.
“You’re right, he is, but we keep his ass in line.” Laith’s speech was finally starting to slur. The contents of the bottle swirled as he moved his wrist. “When he first started with his dumbass jokes, I decked him right in the face. I guess that turned him on though, ‘cause he hasn’t left me alone ever since.”
Laith’s phone lit up with another one of Ryan’s messages on the screen: Where are you?
“You’re not going anywhere.” Theodore’s voice was stern, eyes locked on Laith’s face.
Laith studied him for a moment. The attention felt like hands on his body, warm and addictive. He liked it way too much. “What am I doing, then?”
In response, Theodore pushed the beer in his possession to the center of the table. “You’re finishing these and coming home with me.”
Laith seemed skeptical, but Theodore supposed the conviction with which he’d said that kept Laith from calling him out, and simply pushed him to oblige instead. The connotations that came with his particular choice of words weren’t lost on him, especially when he hadn’t meant it in that way at all, but he couldn’t falter now. He finally had Laith to himself and for more than just a couple of minutes too; he had to make the most of it. This was his only chance.
“Are you coming onto me, Theo?”
That question set his heart off, but he remained perfectly impassive, with only a slight scowl on his forehead. “I’m trying to spend time with someone who never has time for me, so I’m making some. I’m rewriting your schedule to fit me in it. You can ditch your friends tonight and it’s fine; you see them all the time, but I only get to see you at your convenience. That’s not super fair, is it?”
Dark eyebrows bounced in acknowledgement, eyes down at the table between them. “You have a point.” Laith’s words were strained from the effort that took to push them out. “I’ve never factored you in, but also, I didn’t know I had to.”
“I thought we were friends.”
His comment fixed Laith’s eyes on his face, startled and wide. It was manipulative to make him feel bad for something that had never been established in the first place, but right now, Theodore didn’t care. If it kept Laith with him tonight, he’d mix up right and wrong.
Laith’s throat moved as he swallowed. “Of course we are.” The pain and guilt in his voice released a breath from Theodore’s lungs. He’d done it. “Like I said, I’ll come see you in two weeks.”
“Right, ‘cause that’s when your schedule opens up.”
An annoyed sigh escaped through Laith’s nose, empty bottle placed on the table. “Don’t be that way. You know I can’t keep hanging around you; it’s too dangerous.”
“Jesus Christ; it’s just for tonight,” Theodore snapped.
“Okay, fuck!” Exasperated, Laith took the last bottle of beer and got up, thighs pressing against the edge of the table. “Where are we going, then? What are we doing? You’re so focused on keeping me around you don’t even know what you want!”
“Sit down.” His voice was low, cold. A deep scowl dug into his forehead. “You’re making a scene.”
“That’s who I am, Theodore. That’s what I do. Didn’t you wanna hang out, huh? Well, we’re hanging out.” Laith took a swig of his beer.
The other tables glanced very briefly in their direction, not making eye contact with Laith.
“If you keep acting like a fucking idiot, you might as well just leave.”
The harshness of Theodore’s words coupled with the firmness of his voice broke Laith’s act, sobriety falling over him. He sat back down with a remorseful look on his face and drank, avoiding Theodore’s eyes. Seeing him like this, quiet and compliant, lit a different fire in Theodore’s chest, exciting, that wanted to grab Laith’s face and squeeze it, knowing he’d get away with it. Power felt… nice.
“I want to show you my apartment.” His voice was softer now, much nicer than before. It got a glance out of Laith, dull but still suspicious. “So we can meet up there in two weeks.”
“Thought you said I’d figure that out by myself.”
“I know you can, but I want to make it easy for you, since you’re already sacrificing so much to come see me.”
Laith scoffed, eyes rolling. “Man, I know I’m dramatic, but this shit’s serious. I meant it that you’ll just get me in trouble. When I ran into your dad, he had three of Burman’s dogs beat me up right there in her office. I couldn’t see out of this eye for a week.” To illustrate his point, Laith turned his face and pointed at his injured eye. “If he finds out I’m hanging around his kid, I’ll lose an arm next.”
“No, you won’t. This whole thing about you staying away from his personal life is a farce. If you were really committed to it, you’d get rid of Ryan first, not me. You wouldn’t even have come see me! You’re just like me; don’t glorify yourself.”
“Is that what you think? That I’m putting up a show for you, trying to make my life seem way more dangerous than it really is? You’re the only person who doesn’t need a show. Social interaction is performative art, yeah, we’ve been over this, but you’re the guy backstage that I can joke with. You’re staff.”
“When did I ever become staff? I’m not even in your friend group.”
“I don’t know, since… the lake, I guess. Since you climbed into my tent?” Laith shrugged with a scowl on his face, irritated. “I didn’t think I needed to impress you too.”
“Then why are you trying to?”
“I’m not!” A palm flipped up to accompany his point, frustration in the crease between his eyebrows. “The only reason I’m not getting rid of Ryan is because I can’t!”
“Bullshit. You like the danger; it’s exciting. Hanging around Ryan, talking to me, afraid someone’s gonna report that back to your boss. Why would you blindly jump into the abyss otherwise? You like fear.”
“Goddammit.” There was defeat in Laith’s tone, argument dropped.
Reading him like this should probably make Theodore feel bad, but the pride that filled his chest clouded everything else. Victory shot endorphins into his bloodstream—he wanted more.
“Give me one good reason why you put up with Ryan,” Theodore pushed. “Be sincere.”
Laith shrugged once, hands up with his loss of words. His eyes roamed the room, but really just assessed his own thoughts, impaired by the thick mist of alcohol. “He parties hard. He’s fearless. We like the same stupid shit. I don’t know, I mean, why does anyone put up with anything?”
That wasn’t the answer he’d expected, but he wasn’t going to try and disprove it either, lest he fell on his face and ruined the authority he’d so carefully put together. So he shrugged, disinclined to answer that question.
Another glow came from Laith’s phone, screen lit up with Ryan’s name again. This time, it was accompanied by frantic buzzing—a call. Laith simply looked at it, showing no signs he’d answer at all.
“Go ahead, take it; tell him what we’re doing tonight.” Laith’s voice was low, hand loosely motioning to the phone.
With his heart beating out of his chest, Theodore took the phone, slid a finger across the screen and put it to his ear. Before he could say anything, his brother’s voice blasted through, making him flinch. The booming music in the background was probably the reason for the shouting, besides Ryan’s obvious rage.
“Where the fuck are you, bro? Burman’s here; she wants to see you.”
“He’s not coming. We’re doing something else tonight.”
There was a brief pause after that, song lyrics echoing into his ear. “Theo?”
“Tell the others he’s hanging out with me.”
Pulling the phone away from his face, he ended the call, heart hammering into his ribs. Without another word, he slid the phone back to Laith, empty bottle in his hand, seven total. He was done.
“He’s gonna give me hell next time I see him,” Laith told him.
“Then don’t.” With that, Theodore got up and left the booth, glancing back at Laith. “Let’s go.”
Drunk, Laith had to use the table for support, phone stored back in his pocket, thighs bumping against the wooden edge as he got up. It took him an incredible amount of focus to circle the table and meet with Theodore in the aisle. Standing this close to each other, amber and tobacco permeated the atmosphere, pulled deep into Theodore’s lungs. He almost grabbed Laith by the arm to lead him out, but snapped back to reality with a strange feeling in his chest, down his throat. Laith took the lead and guided him out.
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