AJ wrote a little back story, and maybe the start of a story for a NaNo.
It was Friday night. Normally Sage, Mia, and I would sneak into Aspect and dance the night away. But Mia had a boyfriend — my bully and roommate, Jace. What she saw in the asshole I don’t know, but it is what it is and now my roommate/bully is also one of my circle of friends. And it wasn’t just any weekend, it was the day before Valentine’s Day. While Jace didn’t celebrate the human holiday, Mia did. We had for years with Sage. We always hung out to make Sage’s issues less of an issue. We were his only real friends. So this Friday night, Mia was with Jace. And Sage was hanging out with this sister’s girlfriends. One of them thought Sage was cute and wanted to see if she could be the one to touch him. I wished them good luck, but both Sage and I knew he wouldn’t be hanging around them at all. But Carla wanted to try, so I said I’d stay home — alone.
I would miss the dancing and I could go out alone, but I would rather stop by Greenly Square Park and see a particular vampire who would sell me an escape that meant I didn’t have to see anyone else the rest of the night. It had been a rough week — between Jace picking fights with me in class, and the fitness tests before survival training started, I was ready to just collapse into nothingness.
Dorian and Dae’lin would kill me if they ever found out what I was doing. But so far they hadn’t, and my roommates didn’t really care if I was so out of my head nothing bothered me. Nepenthe was neither legal or illegal by human standards — they didn’t know of its existence. It was lethal to a human — thankfully I was only half human. It was till illegal by Venatori standards for someone to sell a Minorem — me — nepenthe, but Scott wasn’t afraid of the Venatori.
He camped out on a bench in the park at precisely 7:46pm for ten minutes. He would then make his circuit around the city selling his stash to all the supernatural freaks who wanted to get high. Freaks, is Scott’s way of saying fucked up — the people who use nepenthe are much like me — misfits, outcasts, people who want to die, but don’t have the balls to do it so they numb themselves to the point of not caring anymore.
Scott wore a pair of black leather jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jack. The only thing he was missing was the greased back hair, and he’d fit right into the movie Grease as on of the T-birds. He was turned back in the day and never really thought he should blend in better. That was how a lot of vampires were. once in a while you’d see Bernstein on an interview sporting early 18th century ruffles. People thought he was eccentric, and they were probably right, but he was cursed back then and found the clothes appealing — a throwback to his time as a living person.
“Hey Nox.” Scott drawled out. “Not a typical night for you.”
“My friends are doing the romance thing.”
Scott laughed, “I could think of a thing or two you could do.” He winked. It wasn’t the first time Scott had propositioned me. He thought of himself as a would be pimp if I ever said yes to him — again. I had thought he had wanted to get down with me, but it turned out he was trying to set me up with a woman who had a very interesting way of doling out nepenthe as a reward for good sexual behaviors. While I enjoyed being submissive, I did not enjoy punishment, and I definitely didn’t want to put myself at the mercy of a strange dominant under the influence of a drug that could kill me. After my initial yes, I had a hard pass and that night I went home both hard and frustrated in more ways than one.
I shook my head, “Unless you want to fuck me, I’m gonna pass on your idea of fun.” I flashed Scott a handful of bills, “I can pay.”
“I will never know where a kid in the AU can find cash.”
“It’s not hard, when you do odd jobs for people. Besides I do actually have a job inside the AU. Not a usual thing for kids my age, I know.”
“Fighting crime, and committing one at the same time. Gotta love a hypocrite.”
I shrugged, “So what’s it going to be?” I asked.
He pulled out a sleeve of paper with tabs of nepenthe dots. “How many?”
“Just one.” I said. It was all I ever bought. Anything more and one I might get caught, and two I could die if I took more than that. And I really didn’t want to die — not anymore, anyway.
I handed Scott the Benjamin, and he handed me the small slip of paper. Nepenthe was a supernatural drug, made from supernatural creatures. The CCB, who had access to all the creatures to donate blood, typically manufactured it. Scott’s didn’t come from donations that I knew of. His supplier was some big criminal boss that thought to rule the Underworld and New York City. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He said and turned his attention elsewhere. Not that there was anyone there besides me. This was too close to the AU for their comfort. And getting caught with nepenthe was punishable by death.
I slipped the peice of paper under my tongue and started the walk back to the AU building. And by the time I’d get back to my room, I could lie down in bed with my high and forget the world existed. Forget the pain of my existence, of the magic inside of me — dull the senses and slip into a world I wouldn’t remember when I woke.
And that’s exactly what I did.
I woke in a white room with a white bed, white walls covered with white curtains that flapped in the wind. The window overlooked a barren landscape filled with stars and a sunset. It was beautiful and unreal.
I was five — I was always five when I woke in a dream. Colorful blocks littered the floor where I’d left them last. The disaster prompted me to pick them up and put them in the white bins, and put them back in their place on the shelf on the wall. The blocks were the only color.
I felt the cool breeze on my skin, but the whispers of the singular word I knew they said slid past the emptiness and I was happy to just lie down on the bed and wait. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but I was waiting none-the-less.
“Why are you always a kid? You’re a sixteen-year-old boy now — almost a man, and you still come here as a kid.” The voice of an angel carried the words to my ears. His blue eyes haunted my waking hours. I saw them everywhere, and I didn’t even know who he was. His face was different — it was always different.
He smiled at me from the face of some celebrity who I’d seen in a movie I didn’t know his name. His eyes didn’t match the face, and his eyes were all I cared to see.
He smirked, “That’s better.” He laid down next to me and ran his fingers over my belt buckle and under my t-shirt. “You like being this guy?”
I shrugged, “He’s easy to remember.”
I hummed my agreement. “So undress me.”
I grinned at him. “No, I don’t think I can move.”
He looked at me and tilted his head, “You’re high again.” It wasn’t a question. He was exasperated with my useage. “Why this time?”
I sighed, “My roommate is fucking my best friend and talking shit about her behind her back, and she forgives him every time. And he blames me for spreading the lies. And there’s this test and… this week has just been hell and it’s Valentine’s Day weekend so we aren’t doing our usual thing.”
“So you came here to see me?”
“I don’t remember you until I see you.” I said honestly.
“Because you are always high.” He laughed, “Not that I mind when you can’t move.” He leaned down and bit my neck.
“You forget me when you wake up, right?” he said, putting himself on top of me and rubbing his pelvis against mine.
I nodded. He grinned down at me and bit my bottom lip before I could. “So I can tell you something?”
“Always.” I said. I would always listen to him. I fucking loved listening to him. His voice was music to my ears, and then he’d sing and I would melt. And when I was high, his voice was like velvet on my skin.
“Last night, Kate asked me to move in.”
“Did you?” I asked beneath him,, my fingers wrapping his belt loops as I pulled him against me.
“Sorta. She didn’t ask me to move in to the main estate, she bought a small apartment for us.”
I grinned up at him, “You have a sugar mama.” I teased.
“I do.” He admitted.
“So what am I?” I asked playfully.
He leans his head back and leans on his elbows his body’s weight still fully across mine making me want more. “My dream love.”
“Does Kate know about me?”
He laughs, “No one knows about you. I’d sound like I’m crazy. I am so totally fucking in love with this hot boy in my dreams, we fuck like rabbits and hmmmm….” He grins and thrusts his body against mine. “I want to make you mine.”
“I’m yours.” I didn’t remember him until he got there. I won’t remember him when I wake up. But my body sure as fuck knows his. Sex with my dream guy is epic on nepenthe — and I imagine it’s even better when I’m more actively involved in our shared experience, but I don’t remember those times. If anyone were to ask me after I woke from my dream, why I take nepenthe — I’d know the answer immediately — because I get to see him. But I don’t remember him unless I’m high and only after a dream. I need him like I need air, yet I don’t know why I feel lost.