wonderwall || punznap

acetone

Blue eyes got me feeling so sea sick

Deadweight lightin' up like a phoenix

Still talking to paralysis demons

acetone - torr

Absolutely nothing had changed at school since that ill-fated party. Luke walked past Nick the same way, without looking or nodding his head in greeting. The brunet saw nothing surprising in this and did not want to pay absolutely any attention to his indifference. Nick was nobody to him, and remained nobody. Popular boys don't let their entourage know what white trash they take acid with at cheesy parties.

Nick didn't expect anything from him. But he was irrationally offended when Luke passed in the corridor without noticing him. And the feeling of resentment did not really hurt, as if scratching somewhere deep inside, touching something very important, especially when the person who so openly ignores you is one of those units with whom you communicated. As soon as the brunette clung to at least someone, he realized that this was the end. The image of a loner, a man who doesn't need company to be the person he's been striving for for the past few years, cracked when Nick ran into Luke. This school week, which started very badly, was mixed in with everything else. An inconvenient schedule, an abundance of homework and endless essays that Mr. Turner liked to torment him with...

It seemed that Nick was especially bored at the literature lesson today. Usually he just sat and stared out the window or drew fancy patterns in the margins of his meta-subject notebook, but most of the time he just watched the people around him, which gave him some kind pleasure. He found it entertaining to look at people who enjoy doing something, especially if they were immersed in this business. It seemed to Nick that loving what you do was the best art in the world.

Although the people scurrying aimlessly in the corridors annoyed him. Today, Nick was pissed off by the sleepy faces of the students before the first lesson, Luke looked especially rumpled, he stood at his locker and yawned widely, as if he had not slept for several days, and his calm, low voice and tousled blond bangs, which for some reason Nick wanted to fix, seemed to add fuel to the fire. It must be insanely soft. Several athletic guys were standing next to him and Luke was hugging the waist of some dark-haired girl who was blushing and giggling. He hadn't noticed her before next to the blond.

Sometimes, Nick admitted that he would like to have such male friendships as Clay and George or Luke and Dylan, but, alas, he only had Vicki and a couple of memories of best friends who, for sure, hated him now. And while he knew that he could share all his secrets with Vicki, or talk about any of his problems, Nick bitterly recalled the time when he could still call them friends.

After all, many friends can remember that bright moment when their strong connection was initiated? Some event that caused it or someone's participation. But in his case, there was nothing like that — it was as if Clay was always there. From the moment Nick began to realize that the neighbor's cat was scratching painfully, and his owner could roll in a punch for hanging out in someone else's backyard, trying to pick unripe cherries from a branching tree growing there, every moment of his life was connected with a laughing guy standing against the opposite wall

Nick knew Clay like his own reflection in a mirror. It got to the point of absurdity: they quarreled if they both liked something, and therefore, one fine day, they began to share everything they saw. Starting from superheroes and ending with the brand of their favorite cookie or soda. They had their own and common colors, types of clothes, superpowers and weapons. They cut their palms with a piece of glass and sealed the handshake with blood. They swore that they would help each other. Together until the end.