Love Through the Ages

Cool Guy

Finally, finals are done!!

It was a normal, dull, boring gas station. Not where someone would expect to see Alfred F. Jones-er, Beilschmidt, now, the amazing kid's TV host, a household name.

Alfred darted out of his blue Subaru with a backpack, an ordinary college student that needed to go to the restroom, and went into the gas station's bathroom. The smell of ammonia wafted up. Alfred ignored it and went up to the mirror.

Dull and cracked, but it would still work.

Alfred really was thankful for his genes, it was easy to dye blond hair. Alfred grabbed some brown dye out of his backpack.

Dumping the brown hair dye into another container, Alfred shook it up.

Cool, nice agreeable, they all mean the same thing. Someone to get stepped on, someone to get thrown away for the newer version.

Cool guy, or at least that's how Gilbert had described him. Someone who meshes well with Ludwig's friends. Who didn't mind when he came home drunk with bruises on his cheeks. Someone who didn't mind to do an impromptu strip show, even if your lover's brother was there.

Cool guy. Wasn't that what Ludwig wanted? Someone who could go with the flow, someone who didn't mind you checking out the waitress on our anniversary. Someone who didn't mind the sadistic pleasure his husband got out of his pain, a kink he called it.

Cool guy is hot, cool guy is athletic, cool guy is accepting. All he does is smile and nod, in a Stepford wives-esque way. And presents his ass for fucking.

And that's what Alfred was.

Or was pretending to be. A cool guy. A chill guy.

Alfred sat on the toilet. His newly dyed haired irritating his scalp. It was time he left, the security cameras might've spotted him.

Alfred got out of the bathroom and walked to his car. He needs to visit an old friend of his.

Cool guy like what his lover liked.

He's a sociopathic commie who has a thing for sunflowers and maid costumes.

He's a quit, reserved cherry blossom that likes loli manga.

He's a mild-mannered tea-drinking man that loves mind control play.

When Alfred met Ludwig, he knew he wanted that cool guy.

And Alfred was willing to try!

He waxed his asshole and enemaed himself with Beck's beer. He talked soccer and ate wurst. He went out to he gym and kept a six-pack.

He indulged in Ludwig's BDSM play semi-regularly. He remained organized and kept his closet organized by colors.

Alfred did love Ludwig. He loved every one of his partners. Even Ivan!

Ludwig brought out emotions, feelings Alfred didn't know he was capable of.

A sense of comfort, a warmth, a certain ease, a relief.

But....they all broke their promises.

So, they all deserved their punishments,

Whether that be rape charges, sending you back to cold ol' Siberia.

Or kicking you of the apartment because YOU'RE A PIECE OF SHIT LIMEY-ahem.

Alfred forged a man of dreams. A six-pack, muscle shirt wearing bombshell who didn't mind having fun, and didn't oppose the talks of having a family.

Ludwig and him were happy. They were! Even if it was pretending.

But Ludwig changed.

He became lazier, flab started to appear, wrinkles formed around his eyes!

And......get this! He actually thought Alfred would love him, love him unconditionally!

Hah!

But...Alfred was the cool guy....

And all he asked was that Ludwig followed their vows.

But...

He didn't.

He found a newer, a younger, a bouncier cool girl. One who didn't mind his taste for alcohol. And spoke the same language as him.

Alfred opened the door. It was some dingy motel. Dust lined the counter. The TV was a decade old. It was perfect.

Alfred crouched down. There had to be something in this counter that could help him!

Alfred reached back, his fingers graced a wooden handle. Alfred stretched his arm and grabbed the thing.

Perfect, a hammer.

This could really help sell his fight-rape-escape scenario.

Alfred stood up and looked at the mirror. He only had one chance.

Crack

Alfre pressed a tissue to nose, some blood was leaking out, but it had thankfully lessened. He made sure not to break it, couldn't ruin his looks after all, but it definitely didn't look good.

Along with the scratch marks he made along his arms, from a razor of his, he definitely looked the part of a victim.

Now there was only one part left.

Alfred reached over the bed, making sure to to move his other arm too much, and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"V-v-v-vanya, I n-n-need your help."

No fucking way does Ludwig get to win.