Bad Side of 25 (boyxboy)

7:00 p.m.

"Really? I've been dying to get one of those." I said in awe. All the guitars and pedals had my interest. Joe was a guitarist as Pete played bass. I didn't think these men could get any better but I was wrong. They were incredible. The music space they owned was magnificent. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.

"Yeah, I got the pedal a few weeks ago. It works like a charm." Joe said as he walked up behind me. He changed pedals for me and wrapped his arms around me, holding onto the guitar I was using. I felt his breath on the back of my neck. I shivered uncomfortably. I could smell his faded shampoo burning my nostrils. I didn't like it.

"Here. I want to see the basses." I said and maneuvered myself out from between the guitar and him. I never realized I was claustrophobic until then.

"It's okay, Patrick. We can go over to those in a bit. I want to show you these guitars some more." Joe said and walked closer to me. The sunburst guitar's texture coming in contact with my trembling fingers. Did someone turn off the oxygen and changed it with nitrogen? I was frozen in my spot, staring at his sinister smile. I knew I knew that face. The face of terror, raising hell. I was in trouble.

"Andy's calling me." I said and looked at my dark phone. "I've got to go see what he wants." I said a bit faster, turning on my heels. I felt relief when my fingertips grasped the door knob. I lost my breath when I was slammed into it. I couldn't feel my face. I fell to my knees as I was turned around. Joe was married. I knew by the way his wedding ring collided with my face. Agony. Helpless. Weak. Every punch, kick, hit felt as if you could see all my flaws through my face. Then it stopped and I was pushed out of the way by the door. Thump. Thump. Silence.

"I said not the face. You don't fucking listen Joseph. I know you lust for this and all but you need to calm down before Andrew finds out." Pete said like he was in a hurry. I trembled and my vision was blurry. I saw hands then I felt bare.

"Look Wentz, he wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. So shut up and just fuck him so we can leave." Joe said with my dress in his hands. I mumbled my pled but all that came out was blood and my will. I needed help. I needed Andrew.

"Please. Don't." I said weakly. I was on the verge of passing out on the floor. My mind was refusing to fight for consciousness. My lungs were refusing to hold breaths. They refused to let me go.

"You did this to yourself. You were just begging me to fuck you. The way you looked at me like I was a piece of meat. And that dress reads 'fuck me, I'm a dirty slut'." Pete said and pressed his lips to mine. They were soft but unwanted. My body was a no entrance zone but he dared to trespass.

-

"Are you sure about this? We could always go back home. I'll draw you a bath then play-"

"Andy. Relax. I'll be fine. I promise." I smiled at the nervous man. We walked closer to the front door and I could feel my heart race more than usual but I refused to stop. Happy face, Patrick. Tonight you're going to have fun and Andy must believe it.

"Oh okay. If you want to then we can go." Andy nodded like he was trying to convince himself that this was a good idea. It probably wasn't. I have a track record of messing up my life in indescribable ways. But that's just the way the cookie crumbled.

"Andy it's your birthday. Please just calm down and worry about not eating too many desserts. You don't want a repeat of last year." I said as I recalled the event. It was a sight to see but a horrible one. Andy, as nice as he is, ate everyone's dessert then the next day freaked out when he couldn't fit my pants. He overworked and over worked out, coffee became his daily vitamins. It was funny, it was scary.