Collide with the Sky (Kellic)

6. Props & Mayhem

"Did you enjoy the movie?" Vic asked from the side of my on the couch, switching it off.

I nodded. "Yeah, it was pretty good."

We'd just watched Attack the Block, a movie Vic suggested. He seemed to really want to watch it, so we did together.

I've quit my work, I did the day Vic told me to. His words were the final push to do it. And his promise of job opportunities. I got the job too, by the way. The clothing store one. They have some pretty cool stuff there too, I'm glad he told me about it. Without him, I'd still be stuck at that horrible office, demeaning myself.

Work is no longer a problem for me. I love my workplace. And surprisingly, they do pay better than my old one. That's not something you'd expect from an indie clothing shop.

It's almost like I have nothing to be sad about. Almost. My work is good. My friend is good. But that feel like all there is to me. I have the one friend, who I can't tell I like more than that, in case I lose him. There's no family. There's nothing else, only Vic.

Vic's around a lot now. He's at my place half the time. Sometimes he stays over. He stops me from feeling lonely. He's going to a real effort to stop me from being sad. He's afraid I might do something I shouldn't again.

I'm not thinking as negatively now, but that still doesn't mean I'm happy. Death still comes to my mind, even when there's not many things for me to be sad about. But I still feel lost.

I got up to the kitchen, opening the fridge. "You want a beer?" I called out to Vic, who remained in the living room.

"Kellin, what did I tell you about that," he warned, coming over. "I said no more drinking."

"Just one," I said, taking two out, holding one out to Vic.

"No," he said, acting sternly.

I huffed. "Fine." I was annoyed that he kept stopping me from drinking. He doesn't want me to drink as much, after what happened last time. But I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad. I'd have to get pretty drunk, and I only have a six pack here.

We walked back into the living room, sitting down. We sat in silence, I was slightly annoyed that he wouldn't let me drink. Doesn't he trust me or something, I won't do it again, surely. He should be seeing how my life is going well now, even if I still don't feel great about everything. But to him, he should see that it's good.

"I'm going to go," he mumbled, getting up and making his way to the door.

"Bye," I said, not really paying attention, lost in my own thoughts. But I didn't hear him leave, instead he walked in a different direction. It was the sound of the fridge opening that caught my attention.

I got from me place, rushing in to see him taking the alcohol out, closing the door.

"Who said you could have that," I said, even more annoyed with him.

"You don't need it," he replied, walking to the front door. "You didn't have any last time I was here, why do you now?"

"Because I needed it," I replied. He could clearly hear the annoyance in my voice.

"No you don't," he said. "We've been through this."

"I don't care," I said, taking it from his hands and walking back to the fridge. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"Yes there is," he said, putting up a fight. And it didn't sound like he was going to back down. "You know what happened."

"And it won't again," I opened the door and put them back in. I was beginning to sound whinny.