𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫❞

(ii) Death of His Slumber

It was four in the morning, and the entire town was fast asleep. It seemed like there wasn't a soul which was awake, with the exception of a sole bat flying, searching for food, probably. Like every other normal being, the resident of 36 was enjoying the warmth of the heater and his comforter. He dreamt of marshmallows and cookies, as soft and warm as his bed. he snuggled inside his mattress before a loud rock music beat pulled him out of his deep slumber and threw him into a frenzy. He hurriedly looked at the time, and rushed to the window to see what the chaos was about; to see who was playing the music in the middle of the night for god's sake.

It was his neighbor, the rude nightbird.

An angry and resolute Rowan stormed off to the other house, knocking hard on the door as he could. The music abruptly stopped, and the door opened, revealing the guy from the night in nothing but blue shorts. His body was well built - triceps and calves showed out like the boy had been working since he was eleven years old. But the attractiveness of his neighbor could not put his usual stereotypes away.

He had always had a thing against men who considered themselves confident enough to roam about around other men wearing almost no clothes. It almost reflected their close-minded thinking and their convention against men. They'd make up good efforts to get themselves covered before showing up before a girl or a woman but would put in zero energy to appear decently dressed for guys. What actually made men cover their bodies before a woman was probably the fact that they were the opposite gender and that respecting them was primary. But men? They are naught but the same gender - and it isn't a basic necessity to appear completely covered in front of them. And his neighbor was one of those men who'd been assuming since birth that all men are straight.

But again, what Rowan had in front of him was a sexy case, and though he was determined not to do it, his mind refused to listen to him.

Rowan couldn't help but trail his eyes lower on the stranger's body. It wasn't daily that he got to see such handsome men without their clothes, and however annoyed he got by himself to think so, the man was a pleasing sight this way.

"Like what you see?" the other asked, challenging him, provoking Rowan to look up at him, as he smirked at the young's reaction to his part-nakedness. All he had to do was smirk, Rowan thought, and I'm annoyed to the edge of hell.

"What's with the loud music at four? Haven't you got something better to do, like, I don't know, maybe sleep?!" blurted the younger in a flurried rage. But that only resulted in the older slamming that door right on his face and playing the music once again. Rowan could judge that the other man had increased the volume now. He was aghast. How dare he? thought Rowan. Contemplating the idea of going back, he made another effort to knock on the door and tell his rudy neighbor to stop the music.

Meanwhile, a sleepy Daniel who had just managed to lie down again was irritated with his neighbor, and he sat up. He had expected the boy to be more sensible than this, but he had clearly overestimated the person. Grumbling, he stopped the music and went to attend the door. "What the fuck is your problem man?!" he spat even before he opened the door completely. "That goddamn ugly rock music," complained the boy.

"Firstly, this is my house and I do whatever the fuck I want to. And secondly, the music ain't as ugly as you, dumbass. Now off on your drumsticks, boy, and don't you dare knock again-" Rowan's face reflected indignance on the first line, but he was clearly hurt by the second. Daniel could see it: the younger's eyes shimmered, his face fell, and without uttering another word, he left, leaving Daniel all alone, hanging.

He'd not really meant to hurt him, but he couldn't help his tongue. Though he'd been looking forward to a new neighbor, he'd successfully ruined his relationship with the boy and might have to face his hostility for years before he got out of the town. He had been delighted at the thought of having a new neighbor who looked just as old as him; he had already started to visualize an easygoing friendship with him. But now he'd destroyed the bubble of thoughts, and instead of neighborliness, he'd be facing hostility from the boy he'd hurt accidentally. One could never tell, but he too felt things others felt when they did something they didn't mean to and ended up wounding somebody. He felt a pang of guilt inside him, and before the emotion could take over, he burst into another line of thought which consisted of blaming the new guy for being bitter and rude.

He watched the boy disappear into his own house and shrugged. It wasn't his fault; the boy was credulous. Repeating this to himself a few times, he laid down, and played the music again, for it was the untamed melody of chaos which helped him drift away from the bedlam of this world of worries and ache.

﹒﹒﹒﹒