Shades Of Blue

44. Jake

*WARNING FOR SEX AND DRUGS*

Benjie

November

Age 20

Benjie's cellphone vibrated with a new message, rattling the chipped glass surface of Jake's coffee table. Ignoring the phone, he continued to watch the television screen as Jake played an online shooter game, flooding the small apartment with the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and online chatter from other players. With lethargy, Benjie sat on the couch with his cheek in his hand, his elbow propped up by the armrest. It seemed like Benjie had been on this couch for days, weeks even, but it had only been a couple hours, and a couple hours the day before that.

It was easy to avoid Neel. Benjie was good at hiding and going unnoticed. Neel texted a lot, his messages coming off more desperate and concerned as time wore on. Neel asked if Benjie was on a bender at first. When Benjie didn't reply for a few days, Neel called, then left a message after Benjie declined the call. Without listening to the message, he instead deleted it immediately so he wouldn't be tempted to listen when he was less wounded.

That was how Benjie thought of himself now. Not angry, not scorned, not depressed, nor betrayed. Benjie was wounded, like a bird with an arrow stuck in his wing, unable to fly. It was foolish to move here for someone other than himself. Their time together was finished a long time ago.

"Die, motherfucker, die!" Jake growled into his headset as he shot at the enemy on the screen.

He was alright. If Benjie had to associate with anyone nowadays, it might as well have been Jake. He didn't care what Benjie did, never judged him. They just got high and joked around. When Benjie wanted to be alone, he simply left Jake's apartment and went home. There were no obligations, no fighting, no feelings. It was nice, almost like having a friend. But Benjie didn't choose friends hastily. In his life, he'd really only had three of them, his sister, his fuck-buddy, and Neel.

The cellphone vibrated against the glass again, this time over and over in long intervals. An incoming call.

"Either answer it or shut it off before I chuck it out the window," Jake threatened, irritated by the constant recurring vibrations and buzzing.

Reluctantly, Benjie stretched out of his comfortable position and grabbed his phone. Upon seeing Neel's name on the call display, Benjie declined the call yet again. He powered down his phone and stuffed it into the front pocket of his sweatpants.

Two and a half weeks had passed since Benjie snuck out after Halloween night. Benjie had been radio silent since then. As much as he knew he should, he wasn't ready to block or delete Neel's number just yet. The act of deleting that number seemed so final. Benjie was averse to finality, preferring a sense of open-endedness. He never wanted to speak to Neel again, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he would need to someday.

"Shit," Jake grumbled in disappointment as the television screen flooded with red and the words You Are Dead - Game Over. Tilting his head back as he rested in his easy chair, he let out a short chuckle. "It's hitting me now."

Benjie felt it as well. He relaxed back into the couch, his muscles unknotting one by one as he let out a calm breath. This was why he liked MDMA. It was the finger of his guardian angel tapping into his brain matter and nervous system to give him some reprieve. He'd always been tense. Far, far too tense.