Being talented and outstanding in your field doesn't guarantee success in relationships.
Julian "Jay" Adams is a fine art student struggling with both creative and emotional blockages. Caught in a draining relationship, he finds an unexpected source...
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The woody scent of soap filled the bedroom when Liam came out of the bathroom in black boxers, wiping the water droplets from his neck with a towel. His slightly tanned skin was still damp, from his face to his toned chest, and shiny in the light as he moved closer to the bedside lamp. His movements painted long shadows on the dirty-white walls of his apartment.
He threw the towel onto the back of the chair, then bent to gather his scattered clothes from the floor. As he pulled on his pants, a voice broke the silence. "Don't put those on; you'll ruin the view."
Liam couldn't help but let a small smile appear at the corner of his mouth. He glanced over his shoulder, and with an eyebrow raised, he asked, "You're still awake?" Then, without dwelling on the comment, he continued getting dressed.
"Yes, still awake," Jay replied, looking at him through half-open eyes. Then, he patted the place next to him, adding, "Come back here."
"Later."
"Okay."
Jay couldn't help but check him out.
"Does your tattoo still hurt?" Jay asked with genuine curiosity, fidgeting with the sheets.
"Nah, not really."
"I want one too."
"Do it."
"I'm afraid of needles... and also the pain."
"It's not that bad. It's similar to a bee sting."
"Well, I have never been stung by a bee either." Jay let out a nervous laugh.
Jay hoped their little banter would continue, but Liam didn't pay attention to him after that. After putting on a shirt, Liam grabbed his phone and his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, then stepped out onto the balcony. The door made a faint creak, leaving Jay alone in the rumpled sheets.
Now, the apartment lay in utter silence.
Jay sighed deeply, as if deflated, and sank further into the sheets.
He couldn't help but laugh bitterly at his naivety. He felt foolish for hoping for more.
A chuckle escaped him again, while hugging the pillow to his chest. He felt both lighthearted and unwell.
They had drunk something earlier. More specifically, Prosecco. Jay didn't get the hype around it. He disliked alcohol and never learned how to drink it. It was Liam who convinced him to try it, claiming it was expensive and something he never tried before, and somehow he ended up having two glasses. He couldn't believe he had fallen for his nonsense again.
Indeed, it tasted good—rich, fruity, and sweet. However, it acted much like cheaper varieties, quickly losing its Bacchic effects. Seeing the glasses on the counter, reminded him how quickly he had downed them, intensifying his nausea.
