Super Rich Kids (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 21: Voice Calls

Don't hate me.
Warning: Mature/Serious content below. Read at your own risk. Blah blah. Trigger warning? Just... Uh, roll with me here. This chapter wasn't planned it kinda just happened...
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"Hello?" I answered the call, only because I recognized the area code. A part of me hoped that Foster's voice would flood through the speakers with assurance that he is alive and well. His parents have been restless, but there is nothing they can do. Foster is nineteen, and all the police will do is file a missing person's report and print a small add in the newspapers that no one ever reads.

"Hello! Alexander, this is Dr. Murphy." The disappointment hit me harder than I thought it would and then a little warmth and happiness pushed past the negativity. I was slightly excited to hear his voice.

"Dr. Murphy, what's good?" I masked my excitement with a dull tone. He didn't need to know that I actually missed him.

He ignored my question getting straight to the reason he called. "It has been a while and I wanted to check in on you, how are you?"

"Aw... have you been thinking about me, David? I'd like to inform you that I am still happily dating my sexy drug addict." I smirked hearing him sigh deeply. "I'm playing Doc, loosen up!"

"If you have the energy to be sarcastic, then I'm going to assume you're doing well."

"I did what you said Doc, I'm making friends, I got a job. I feel like a person, ya know? It's such a weird feeling, but I like it and I'm generally content. Soon I'll get my degree and I can get a stable job and Abel and I will finally--" I heard his laugh overlap with my voice, a sound I didn't hear too often. "What... why are you laughing?"

"It's called independence, Alexander. Just remember you're nineteen, don't rush your life, okay? You've always been mature. You can drop a million jokes but at the end of the day the seventeen-year-old Alexander I met and the nineteen-year-old I'm speaking to today still hold a lot of similarities. You still have time to grow, okay?"

I could reflect on his words for hours-- the truth behind everything he has said. I knew I grew up fast. Too much has happened to me, and somehow I managed to get through all of it alone. "I just want to be happy." I mumbled, happy to get the words out of my mouth. Sometimes I hold everything in—bottle up my emotions without even realizing I am causing my own self to suffer.

"Well you can't demand happiness and you can't force it. You have to find it, or better yet, let it come to you, Alexander." He waited, expecting my reply that wouldn't come. I really didn't have the words to respond. "Did you ever stop to think that you are already happy? Maybe now you're just asking for too much."

"Of course I ask for too much. I am human, I am flawed and I am insatiable."

"Well, when you allow yourself to be satisfied with less, maybe you will be happier."

But is less really more? Seeing less of Abel wasn't bringing me any kind of happiness. Having less of him is the only thing still causing me sadness and grief.

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"Are you serious, Alexander?" I could hear the distinct anger in his voice, so common in all of our conversations recently. Three and a half months and the distance between us is finally beginning to take its toll.

It's all the little things that we get caught up in. Arguments when we forget to call one another, disagreements in what we should and shouldn't do while away from each other, and fights inspired by lack of contact and probably a hell of a lot of pent up sexual frustration and angst.