Roommates (Maxley)

Chapter 3

Okay, maybe Brad had done a shitty job of trying to cheer up Max. Maybe he had been a bit insensitive, maybe he could've worded things a little different- but he was right. Of course he was, Brad was only wrong whenever his father was right, no other time. So why was it so hard to convince himself that he was in the right this time? No matter how many beers (which he hates the taste of) he chugged down, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to the solemn look on Max's face. Why didn't he hug him or something, God why did he even care? He should've just let him be, he knew he wasn't going to apologize. Why couldn't he apologize? His pride? His ego? He's such a piece of shit, and now he's going on a downward spiral in his mind thanks to all of the alcohol in his system.

"Bradley, dude, where are you going?" Someone calls out after him but he ignores them.

He stumbles up and out of the Frat house, sitting on the stairs as people marvel at him while walking by. God, he's so sick of this persona, being the beloved school boy with everything. In reality he has nothing, just a void where his heart's supposed to be, all thanks to the conditions he was raised in. He didn't get a loving family, time with his parents, a pet, everything in his life has always been centered around perfection, around being the best of the best. Well, he wasn't the best at managing his emotions, so what was he supposed to do now? He couldn't cry, not here, not anywhere. Just the idea of crying brought shame onto his family's name. Uppercrust's don't cry, Uppercrust's don't feel. He's disappointing his father just by sitting like this, doing exactly what he told Max not to do. Get up, you're too old for this Bradley.

He goes back inside, a smile forced on his face and another beer in his hands. He'll just have to drink his feelings away, it's not like it's the first time he's done so. He sits with his Frat brothers, girls on their laps and immediately rushing to swoon over him. It's all a facade, fake interest, he knows they're really just interested in his pants. It's not like he was a virgin, might as well spend the night with a few. The Frat house is full of rooms, some for the members, most purely for partying and sex. He's led to an empty one by a girl with pretty brown hair and pure skin, her gaze warm and welcoming when she's under him.

"Bradley~" Why's she so loud? He already has a headache, her moans are only making it worse. He flips her onto her stomach so she can hold her face into the pillow, thank God he won't have to see it now.

He goes through the motions how he always does, and per usual, his thirst isn't quenched. Her body isn't the problem, it's lovely, curvy and cute- but he can't seem to keep it up long enough to please himself as much as he's pleased her. He watches her fall asleep against him, waiting for the spark all the movies promise but of course it doesn't come. He leaves the room as parched as he came, with only a few long hairs on his shirt and a loosened belt buckle. His Frat friends fist bump him, hooting and hollering as if he had just won another championship title for them. Idiots, all of them.

"Why are you still awake?" He grumbles when he opens his dorm door to see Max on his guitar again. He stumbles around the room until he reaches his bed, dropping down onto it like a corpse.

"I dunno, why are you?" Max shrugs as Brad flips him off from his bed, "I was worried I guess."

"Go to bed." He turns on his side to face the wall, eyelids heavy. "I don't want your pity."

"Yeah, sure." A blanket is draped over him and he's too tired to protest, his aching body soothed by Max's voice. "Get some sleep."

"Well I can't now, it's too hot." He whines like a toddler until Max moves the blanket away. "Too cold."

"You're impossible." Max says with a click of his tongue, running his hands through his mullet. "I'm tryin' to be a good friend-"

"We aren't friends, Freshman." He's a little too loose-lipped right now, he should probably shut up.