All Too Well - Erik Menendez

What Was I Made For? [18+]

Beverly Hills. CA. 1988.

Whispers POV:

I clear my throat, hoping my emotions don't betray me. "Hey Lyle."

A brief pause follows as he registers my voice. "Whisper? Hey beautiful." I can't stop from admitting how good it is to hear his voice. There's something comforting and reassuring in everything he says, in everything he is.

"How's Princeton?"

"It's the very definition of shit." The humor in his voice is ever-glowing as always. "Hows California? Or should I say, hows you and Erik?"

I intake a breathe, attempting to calm my anxiety. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about". Silence meets me on the other end of the line and I'd be lying if I said it didn't fuel the fire that is my worry.

I continue. "Have you heard from him in the last few days? At all, since Tuesday?"

"Uh, no. Why? What's happened?"

"There was this whole situation with your dad a-"

"What situation, what happened?"

Goddamit, if this couldn't get anymore embarrassing.

"On Tuesday at Eriks practice, Jose stormed the court and he was furious, apparently something about Erik not going home the night of our date, which I-"

"Erik never went home that night? Was he with you?" I can practically hear the smirk through the telephone line.

Lyle Menendez; sex mad and insatiable.

"No he wasn't with me."

"You sure? Theres no shame in it, and it's about time Erik lost his v-card."

My face burns red, the conversation making me want to hang up and burrow myself into my bed sheets until the embarrassment cools off.

"I'm sure. Nothing like that happened!"

His laughter on the other end of the phone is almost hysterical. "Okay, if you say so. Continue."

I take a deep breath. "Erik had a hickey a-"

"You gave Erik hickeys?" The line fills with suggestive whistles and a cheap round of applause. "So he did stay with you?"

"No, Lyle. He came in my house for like five minutes and-" He interrupts me again.

He gasps dramatically. "Five minutes? No way, Menendez men are built to last longer than that!"

I contemplate hanging up right now, like literally right now.

"Lyle, we didn't have sex. We just kissed and your dad saw this and he was furious. He dragged Erik from the court side and basically told me to stay away from him and now Erik hasn't shown up for school for three days and I've not heard from him." Im breathless and anxiety-riddled by the end of my panic.

"Fuck." His response is vastly different from his playful behaviour only seconds before. "I'll try calling, one minute."

The "minute" drags into what feels like hours until he calls me back; confirming my fears. No answer.

"Can't you go over there?" Lyles voice is more concerned than previously, all the humour has indefinitely evaporated from him voice.

"Your dad s-" He interrupts.

"He'll be at work for at least another hour or so. Just tread lightly incase my mother's there. Please tell me how he is." His voice is pure panic. Panic for the wellbeing of his baby brother; panic for his inability to help, panic for his forced-separation that inhabits him from doing what he wants;  protecting Erik.