The Midnight Men (Troyler) UNFINISHED

.4

Tyler's POV
~•~•~

Everything is blurry. My vision is fogged and I keep zoning in and out of consciousness. My dizzy composure keeps causing me to trip as I make my way to the kitchen to gather some snacks to compliment an additional glass of whiskey.

Korey's über came just moments ago to return him to his apartment safely, seeing as neither him nor I were in the right state of mind to get into the driver's seat of a vehicle. He's great company and all but he gets my blood boiling faster than water on a lit stove.

I sit at the small round table on the beige, tiled, kitchen floor, letting my anger simmer. I tilt the bottom of my glass in circular motions, the moist outlining staining the table, leaving behind a wet ring-shape. My bottom lip is clamped between both rows of my teeth, the slight tinge of blood seeping into my mouth. My eyes dart to the black rimmed clock mounted on the wall, watching as the second hand infinitely tics on. 3:01am. Or at least I think that's what it says. Everything's blindingly hazy by this point.

The sound of the door clicking open almost seemed as if it'd never come just when the sharp unlocking sound bellowed through the quaint apartment. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" the mumbled, crude exclamations sounded from the front door. The booming slam that followed this, startled my vulnerable self, nearly knocking me off the stool I sat upon. Pacing steps soon turned to anxious stomps and it wasn't too long before I could sense that he was hurdling in my direction. The vibrations of the floor not only shook the china in the cabinets but also the bones within my body. In a matter of seconds, Connor made a fuzzy appearance, resembling a dear who had just ran into headlights.

I stood to greet him invidiously, but he hurriedly pushed passed me and headed towards the kitchen sink. "Don't funkeng ignore m-meh you piesh of...shit!" My words slipped passed my lips slurred and choppy but I couldn't help the way my thoughts tripped over my tongue on the way out. He completely blocked me out as he got down on all fours, shuffling through the cleaning products in the cabinet beneath the faucet. Multiple bottles of miscellaneous purposes came toppling out in his haste, "Aha!" he exclaimed as he pulled out a white container with a metallic blue label. Before I knew it, my fiancé was stripping down his oddly red-stained clothes and tossing them into the sink. My eyes scanned over his exposed body, my brows stitching together when I noticed how patches of crimson landed just above his wrists, around where his sleeves would have ended. He began to pour the clear liquid from the container onto all of his clothes, standing there completely naked and shivering.

My disheveled self didn't have the strength to distinguish what was commencing nor bother inspecting it. I charged toward the hazel haired boy I've put up with for far too long, grabbing his free hand, and allowing the grotesque scum that was plastered onto him, contract onto me. "WHO D'YOU THIN YOU ARE?! COMING HERE AFTER SHEATING ON ME AN TEN INORING-" I was caught off by a sharp gasp followed by an aggressive pull toward the sink, my now sticky arm getting caught underneath the flow of chemicals. "AHHHHHH!" I wailed in excruciating pain, the cleaner burning my skin as if I was on fire. My raw epidermis was going through obscene torture, tears fled and sobs erupted from the back of my throat. "P-please, con! st-stop..." My defeated form went limp over the sink, ready to throw up as my soon-to-be husband pressed me against the counter surface. His muscular arm was anchored beside me, and his other was still pouring the cleaner, imprisoning me on either end.

"We just need to get this off of you. Almost done, Ty.... Almost done." His last few words began to morph into weeps, his voice wavering and tears silently splashing on to my back. I stare into the sink and notice streams of red flowing down my forearm and swirling down the drain in a hypnotic fashion.

He at last put the chemical down, leaving me panting feverishly. I was frozen in my place in utter shock and pain as Connor reached on to the window sill in front of the sink where we had placed a few household candles. His quivering hand fiddled around hastily before he grabbed a small pack of brand new matches. Still standing behind me, he removes a match from its packaging, flicks it across the rough edge, and tosses the lit stick into the sink. Just before the fire landed into our metal washing station, his arms wrapped around my waist, flinging himself backwards, taking me with him. We land with a thud, his arms tightening as I stare up at the flames that erupted due to the flammable product he had poured out. His drenched clothes went ablaze and the tips of the eruption danced among the ceiling, surly burning off some of the paint. The feel of Connor's fingertips pressing into my hip, his crying face tucked within the crook of my neck, and the heat radiating off the kitchen appliance takes me back to the day where we met again.

"I pronounce you man and man." the anointed official declared, a monstrous grin taking over his face as the couple in front of him leaned into each other. The crowd nestled in the pews, cheered joyously when Dan and Phil's lips met, symbolizing that they were now husbands. I myself, had tears forming in my eyes when the two boys I've known for so long would finally be able to live the rest of their lives together as a married couple. I could feel my hands turning all shades of crimson from how vigorously I was clapping.

The location of the ceremony was just stunning. The familiar opening enclosed within the grand forest took everyone's breath away the moment they stepped into the creatively rustic scenery. The soothing summer breeze wafted over all of us as vibrantly green leaves rustled above us. Translucent garbs of elegant, white hung from the low branches and was woven within the seats. Dan, wearing a a black tux, and Phil, wearing a blue one with a silver design, stuck out from everything else. But it was perfect in its one way.

The after party took place within the same area. There were buffet tables adjacent to a pit filled to the capacity with fire wood. A fraction of the already minuscule number of attendees stayed late enough to see the fire light. I was one of those few.

I took up a space on the large log before the unlit wood, sitting to the right of Hannah. But to the left of my old friend, was her girlfriend, Ingrid, so all her attention was focused on the beautiful new face. I sighed, placing my chin on my hand and slumping down to my knees. Just as I began to zone out due to the lack of entertainment, a squeamish voice sounded beside me. "Oh my god, Tyler?!" I snapped in the direction of the guest who called my name, only to meet eyes with an extremely cute man. "It's me, Connor, Connor Franta." He reminded me, my memory searching through the files within my brain. "We used to be friends in middle school?"

"Oh yeah!" It hit me. He was one of my best friends throughout a dark time within my life. How could that ever slip my mind? "How've you been?"

"Really great. I'm moving to the States next summer actually, seeing as I already graduated from Uni. Time for a change, ya know?" He sat down next to me, his green eyes swimming with the stars above us.

"All too well. I live in New York now." His hazel hair stood voluminously atop his handsome head. It swayed with the wind but stayed stable despite its movement.

"Wow! Good for you, Ty. I always knew you'd do something amazing like that. I'll have to hit you up when I move there as well." He ended his statement with a wink while Dan got up to pour gasoline over the logs. Phil excitedly lit a match and threw it on top of the prepared wood. It set ablaze and everyone gasped or shrieked unanimously at the initial explosion.

"Wouldn't want it any other way, Concon." I spoke as if I had thought it but accidentally said it out loud, too mesmerized by the heat from the fire and the heat from the body pressed to my side.

I woke up to the brightness of the sun blinding me through my closed eyelids. I squinted until I adjusted to the light of my bedroom. All my memories from last night came flooding in like tsunami, crashing against my mind and draining me of all other thoughts. I hastily stood to my feet and dashed to where the incident took place.

When my feet left the feeling of the warm carpet and stepped onto the cold tile of the kitchen floor, I was met with my fiancé eating cereal at the dining room table. He appeared so domestic, so unwavering, so perfect albeit the events that commenced during my drunken state.

I observed the sink and noticed that there was no evidence of a fire erupting. The ceiling was spotless and so was the counter. I approached the cabinet beneath the sink and opened it circumspectly only to find that all the cleaning products were there and so was a full pack of matches. It was as if nothing had happened.

"What's wrong, babe?" Connor met my confused look, his face developing to an expression that mirrors my own.

"Oh no, nothing....I just had a really weird dream last night."