Loneliness is not a phase

Chapter 1

Being alone wasn't new for Ayrton. He always felt that bitter sting, even as a little boy. He always had trouble making friends and most of all, talking to girls. His social skills were painfully low, and it was not that he wasn't trying. He desperately wished with all his heart to be able to make a friend or to even talk to someone like a normal individual. But all he feels at those opportunities is crippling anxiety and fear.

The day is scorching hot, the fans on the ceiling of the auto parts shop where he is working provided little to no relief at all. Ayrton leans his head down, pressing hard the heels of his hands on his eyes. The store is silent, only the noises coming from the street in the form of distant voices and cars.

Sadness filling every particle of his body and mind, leaving no room for relief. Ayrton always feels a little more sad (if that's even possible) when he knows the weekend is coming. All he can think is being at home, in his room, concelead from everyone. He knows deep inside it is wrong, the very same thought of it. The image already pulsing through his sore thinking is wrong. It is bad to hurt himself, but it is also needed, so desperately.

The only way to make the sadness a little lighter is to let it flow like the blood flowing off his wrist when he presses right there the edge of the tiny piece of broken mirror he keeps hidden in the drawer of his bedside table. It is a secret, something he despises and at the same time craves when he feels hopeless and alone.

"What are you doing, Senna? The boss don't pay you to be taking a fucking nap on the counter." Nigel puts his hands on his hips, looking at Ayrton. He could be such an asshole as a workmate sometimes. "Sorry. There's nobody around here anyways." Ayrton says, making himself stand right.

"What, you feeling tired? Didn't sleep last night? Was it..." Nigel puts his arm around Ayrton's neck, looking at him with a knowing grin, lifting his moustache. "Was it someone who kept you awake?" Ayrton looks at him, his face showing no emotion at all. "What...? No. I just..." He changes his body weight from one leg to the other, shifting uncomfortable, wishing Nigel would take his arm off his shoulders.

"You aren't getting any pussy? No pussy for little Ayrton?" Nigel scoffs, smiling as he presses a finger in Ayrton's chest. "Shut up, Nigel." Ayrton says, already feeling it is enough, removing Nigel's arm. "Ohh, sorry. Did I hit a sensitive spot there? Come on man, what are you, 28? You're too fucking young to not be using that cock. You should come tonight. I'm having a party at my house. Lots of beautiful, willing girlies. Nelson and Gerhard are coming. Alain too, if his wife loosen the leash around his neck a little." Nigel looks at him, smiling and leaning against the counter, moving a box full of pistons as he does it.

Ayrton looks at him, his mind racing super fast as he contemplates this invitation. He could already feel the anxiety building up in his chest, visualizing the secuence of being between a bunch of people drinking, talking and laughing, loud music invading his ears, the terror of not fitting in filling his mind, not even knowing what to do to fit in. It was breathtaking.

On the other hand, he is in no place of rejecting an invitation, not even from a co-worker. He wants to make friends, he wants to be part of it, he needs to be loved, to feel someone cares about him. Although it might hurt, and it will in the end. It always do.

"Ok, I'll go."

*

"Boa tarde, filho. How was work?" Ayrton's mother shouts from the kitchen when she hears the front door closes. "Tudo bem mãe. It was good." Ayrton feels a little guilty everytime he lies to her mother. 'Cause it is never good, nothing feels good anymore.

She aproaches her son, kissing him in the cheek. "That's nice. Do you want something to eat or you will wait till dinner? Your sister and Michael are coming tonight." She says, returning to the kitchen.