Trajectories (The Demarcated Remix)
Fabrice is very very charming. Attractive too, but in their life everyone is. Or, seems to be. He’s confident, he was a gymnast and does this funny little thing with his mouth when he grins.
Lately, he's been imaging what it would be like to be Fab. What’s it like to sit on the left, this photo shoot? What’s it to order that drink, instead of his usual? What’s it like to reach the highest point of a vault and know the only natural direction, the only place you belong, is down? He hopes he doesn't know.
Once, at a Christmas Party thrown by the label, someone brought these puffy salmon-y thingies. It might have been the publicist. They were delicious. They were sweet and perfect and no one else had ever had them. He went back for seconds. Amongst the jostling elbows of about twenty stars who ate, he managed to get four. He asked their publicist about them later, in the kitchen.
"Good!" he said, while swallowing his second, "Did you make-?"
"No." She spoke curtly, "I bought them."
He started his second, but could barely take two bites. He stared at it and the third with a slightly sick feeling.
He's been sleeping better, or. More, at least. And nothing much wakes him up when he does. He finds himself reaching out, gripping things while he sleeps, like he wants to anchor himself before falling unconscious. Like a boat in a safe harbour, and he's holding onto Fab tight at night. Everyone knows half a boat can't float.
Yes, Fab is very attractive, with an easy confidence that seems to melt away his own uncomfortable presence, blending them together. It’s nice. Fabrice seems very happy when he’s charming.
Lately, he hasn't been imagining he was Fabrice as much. When he does, he figures he knows pretty well what it's like. He would think it was quite similar to being him, except Fab, Fab is better. My better half he thinks, the better half of what he would think, if he let himself.
He's going to do it. He's going to fuck him. He's going to fuck Fab.
And, it's not a surprise. He's known this since, it feels like he's known this since forever.
Fab's skin is smooth, soft. He could pretend that it's some girl, groupie. He could pretend that he won't wake up next to a friend and colleague. He could pretend that he won't have to look into Fab's eyes and know he's thinking about Rob's Bad Judgement.
He’s just going to do it.
He wants go grocery shopping. That's it, that's all. Just down to the corner for a paper and maybe a jug of milk. And he can't.
He could get it delivered, room service. He could go without, (reading about himself in the Inquirer. He could really go without). He could get someone to go for him. But he just can't.
"Rob," Fabrice, says, not unkindly, "People will see you."
And he knows, knows Fab doesn't mean it this way. But all he can't think of is,
"People will see you."
Once upon a time, there were two Princes. They had smooth brown skin and braided dark hair and beautiful bodies. They had money and everyone loved them. And they loved each other and lived happily ever after.
The End.
The high is pretty good. It starts with a little fluttering, in his stomach, while he gets ready. He rolls his shoulders and snaps his neck. And then, he Does It, all at once so can't stop and not do it. His stomach is flip-flopping like Fab used to, but he doesn't notice it. The best part is in his head. Colour-wild and the world goes rosy-red. Hazy.
The crowd goes wild as they start the next song.
**
Okay, so. It's not like drugs are a big part of his life. And. He can stop whenever he wants and. He's. He's not like everyone else. He has the money, and he should have the fun. He's not stealing stereos to pay for it. So.
He has this feeling that if Life, as ungrateful as it sounds, weren't So Hard, he wouldn't want the drugs. He'd be himself, all by himself. He could sit in a quiet room without going crazy.
If he had his old life he wouldn't-
Another line, and the thoughts are far away.
Once upon a time, there were two boys. They had smooth brown skin and bad hair and goofy senses of fashion. They didn't have much except themselves and one day they were offered a dream come true.
The Beginning
He has a headache. A Really Bad Headache. He looks for his pills.
He has a lot of things, so it's not odd that he has a bottle of pills. Nor is it odd that he has a fully stocked liquor cabinet, or room in a hotel, or a pair of shoes, or a million other things.
The only thing that's odd he thinks, is that I have no friends...