Page 80 of Bend Him, Break Him
“Could say the same to you.” Colton swiveled around and took in William Cox, former GSA treasurer and occasional hook-up who apparently had a hand in outing Colton.
He scrunched his face, trying to suss out his own feelings. So much of his mind was scrambled by how others perceived him this last month, his longing for Isaac’s company, and his current disgust for Leon’s presence. It muddled his mind, and not in the satisfying way that booze did. At least Leon had slinked away, disappearing back into the crowd. That gave Colton one less person-shaped obstacle. Unable to determine if he wanted to bury the hatchet or bury it in William’s head, Colton turned away, tossed his foamy drink into a bucket of ice, and filled another beer at the keg.
“You know, I’m pretty good at that.” William shimmied by Colton, tilting his plastic cup and filling it to the rim with just a splash of foam almost artistically.
Colton huffed and chugged his drink until it left a foam stache on his upper lip, then he refilled it. While he lacked William’s finesse with the tilted technique, it did make a difference in the beer to foam ratio.
“Not bad.” William tipped his head and slapped his cup against Colton’s. The beer sloshed and splashed a bit on the floor. “Whoopsie.”
Colton side-stepped and pretended not to have a hand in the spill.
“So, Superstar Colton is finally stepping back out into the spotlight?” William said it more like a statement while he wrapped an arm around Colton’s and pulled him out of the kitchen to a quieter hallway intersection.
William wasn’t the first person or the hundredth person that Colton wanted to talk to tonight, but he preferred him to the crowded rooms flooded with drunk partygoers and their unfiltered questions.
“You know, your ex really fucked up my life, too.” William sighed, heavy and dramatic and grating.
Colton had found himself dragged into a bitchfit conversation.
“He’s not my ex.”
William’s eyes widened, and he practically did a spit take with his drink before nudging Colton, shaking his arm and nearly spilling Colton’s drink too.
“After everything he did to you?”
Colton’s face reddened until he realized William meant the video. An embarrassment for sure, but that wasn’t Isaac.
“You are a more tolerant man than I, good sir.” William rambled on forever, trying to explain how Isaac misunderstood him, how he warped what happened, how he’d never out someone.
Colton rolled his eyes and sipped his beer.
“And now, he’s turned everyone against me.” William’s pleading eyes quickly soured as his expression twisted into a snarl. “But maybe it’s for the best. Almost three years I’ve known some of them, and they’d let one misunderstanding, oneblatant lie by a liar—yeah, sorry, your should-be ex is a total liar about everything, and many other things. But I digress because, unlike some people, I don’t like talking about people behind their back. Which is basically what everyone from GSA is doing to me because they’re fakes. And honestly, if they’re gonna take Isaac’s word—the word of an obvious, attention-seeking liar—over mine, then I don’t think I want their friendship.”
Colton didn’t have the energy to argue or listen, so without a word, he turned to excuse himself without excusing himself. Hopefully, William would ramble on for the next five to ten minutes before realizing Colton’s absence.
Colton staggered a bit, and William quickly snatched him up to hold him upright.
“Whoa,” William said with a slick smile. “Someone’s hitting the beers a little heavy.”
No… Colton went to speak, to shake his head in protest, but he found himself nauseous and disoriented. The music faded but the thrum of the bass made that sickening feeling creep deeper in his gut, which twisted and churned as his head whirled round and round, following William.
Colton’s feet shuffled, stumbled, and stood their ground for all of two seconds. Each blink blurred his vision, and the room spun through different images until he toppled over on the edge of a bed.
“You should really watch your drink more closely,” Leon said.
When’d he get here? How’d he get here? Where was here? Colton fumbled against the mattress but couldn’t even roll himself over. His arms lay useless at his sides like leaded weights.
“He was like a hawk, but my chitchat game is top tier,” William laughed.
“Whatever,” Leon said with an edge in his voice.
“So, what type of team pranks do you have in store?” William asked, still quite lighthearted despite the fact Colton found himself pinned to the bed with an exhaustion he couldn’t fathom. “Wait, don’t tell me. Deniability and all that. Buuuuuut I’m imagining someone’s bat will be landing in someone’s homefield. In someone’s homerun? Whatever. Just be safe.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” Leon hissed.
“Yeah, yeah.” William’s voice grew fainter. “You owe me, Leon. I look forward to collecting.”
Feet shuffled, and a door closed a moment later. Soon, all Colton heard was Leon’s heavy breaths.
