Tripping Down 12 Steps Into Malibu

Step Two

We must accept the fact that all of our efforts to stop abusing have failed.

Again, that was an easy task. Brendon wouldn't be here if he didn't need third party help. Dallon had tried and failed to help him too many times to count. And he didn't have the will power to stop himself. So he could accept that all their efforts had failed.

It was only the second day and he was on his second step. If he kept going at this rate he'd be out sooner than he and Dallon thought.

He walked around the grassy meadow. Enjoying the hour they got outside each day. He wanted to take off his shoes so that he could feel the ground on his feet. But people might stare and think he was weird. So he settled for sitting Indian style on the ground. Letting the blades of grass slip between his fingers.

"It feels nice doesn't it?"

At the same time the words were said, a shadow hovered over him. Blocking his direct sunlight. Brendon looked up to see who decided to disturb him.

His left hand rested above his eyebrows, shielding him from the brightness. The small man in front of him was just that, a small man. He was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt with a pair of black jeans. Tattoos decorated both of his arms. His thick, brown eyebrows clashed violently with his short -obviously dyed- blonde hair.

"I guess." Brendon shrugged at his question. "It just feels like grass."

"When you've been here as long as I have, grass feels pretty damn good." He lowered himself in front of Brendon. "I'm Pete by the way."

"I'm Brendon." He looked back down at the grass.

"This your first day?"

"Second. I slept my entire first day."

"I sleep almost all my days away." Pete smiled. "I've been here for six months."

"Six?"

He couldn't disguise the panic in his voice. Six months would feel like forever. Dallon said it'd only take a few weeks. He couldn't do six months in this place. Six months away from his boyfriend. Six months sleeping alone at night. Six months of being forced to bunk with grumpy Mr. Ryan.

"Relax." Pete laughed lightly. "I had multiple addictions. And I relapsed a few times. Hopefully you won't be the idiot that I was."

"Oh, good." He relaxed just like Pete told him to. "I couldn't do six months in here. I'm already going crazy."

"It'll get better you'll get used to being here. Eventually you lose track of time. Make a few friends. And then it'll start to feel like a home away from home."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Maybe it's just me." He ran his fingers through the grass. "My roommate might have something to do with that though. He's amazing."

"Has your roommate been here as long as you have?"

"Yeah. We checked in at the same time. We both had similar problems."

"Did he relapse too?"

"Yeah." Pete nodded solemnly. Staring at something or someone over Brendon's shoulder. "When you're in a place like this for a while, you start to make connections to people you never thought you'd connect with. Especially your roommate. You spend so much time with them that they eventually become your second self. You become like one person almost. If they're doing good, you're doing good. And the other way around. You feel what they feel. Be it positive or negative. It's almost like finding a soulmate." He paused. His stare intensified.

Brendon looked over his shoulder. Trying to PenPoint what or who Pete was looking at. There was a group of guys talking and laughing. Sitting on a picnic table under a tree. One of the shorter men with hay colored hair stopped to look over at them. He adjusted the hat on his head. Throwing a smile at them that showed all his teeth.

Brendon didn't even know him and he couldn't help but smile back. He turned back to Pete who was smiling now too. Just as big and as bright as the guy in the hat.

"You know him?" Brendon asked the stupid question. Of course he knew him. People didn't smile like that at strangers.

"Yeah, I know him." Pete's smile narrowed but didn't disappear completely.

"Is that your roommate?"

"That's my soulmate."

The way he said it made Brendon's stomach flutter. He was obviously in love.

"You're lucky to have him." Brendon sighed. "My roommate is an asshole."

"Which one is he?" Pete looked around. Waiting for Brendon to point him out.

"He didn't come out. He told Jesse to 'suck his dick' and that 'he wasn't some middle schooler who needed recess'."

Pete laughed at that. "I'm sure he'll come around."

"Well I'm not counting on it. Besides, I've already found the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with."

"Oh?"

"Yes. His name is Dallon. And we're getting married when I get out of here."

"Even so, maybe you should try to at least befriend your roommate."

"Ryan doesn't want friends here."

"No one does at first. But he'll need some. It's impossible to face these things alone."

"Well I'm not alone." He held his chin proudly. "I have Dallon."

"So you've said." Pete chuckled. Lifting himself onto his feet. "But remember what I told you, Brendon. Eventually, your roommate becomes your second self."

"I don't think I'll be here long enough for that to happen."

Pete smiled condescendingly. Like he knew something Brendon didn't. But instead of saying what it was, he shrugged.

"I'll talk to you soon, Brendon."

"Later."

He laid back on the ground. Watching from the side of his eyes as Pete rushed his roommate from behind. Wrapping his arms around his middle and lifting the small man off his feet.