Alone Together

7: In a room full of strangers

Back in his apartment, Melvin lay on his bed and started drawing. Inspiration never came to him like this before, motivation never stepping foot through his door. And time—time was a friend. He had plenty of that.

"Ryou." He said to himself. He was like a songbird, perched on a branch, surrounded by paper leaves and string. Defensive, feisty. But an undertone of sweetness accompanied his soft, warm little song.

He had no idea that Ryou would simply...take it. Ryou didn't yell, curse, nor scream. Ryou just scolded him, and told him not to do it again. Even when he was accused of something he didn't do, he just accepted it and moved on.

It was the weirdest thing Melvin had ever witnessed. No sense of revenge or anger. Just offense and a sigh.

Should have I gotten his number? Then he shook his head.'Hey, I had fun grabbing your ass, mistaking you for my sexual partner. I'd like to do it again, sometime. Could I get your number?'

Imagining Ryou's facial expression in reaction, Melvin laughed.

And what would he do with that number? What kind of conversations would they even have? Besides—although non-committed—Melvin had Bakura. He hadn't a clue where Ryou was supposed to be in his life, if he was supposed to be there at all.

His phone buzzed, and he lifted the sheets and covers, until he heard his phone fall off the edge of the bed. Groaning, he turned onto his stomach and flipped upside down to find it. He felt the blood rush into his head, and he reached for his phone.
He raised a brow, then flipped the phone around.

Right side up again, he read Bakura's text message in disbelief.
How would you feel about going to a party?

"What the hell is he talking about?" 

Melvin? At a party? What, was this a joke? Didn't Bakura know that people were talking, that Melvin was no good in large groups of people? 

Melvin texted back, trying to keep his cool. I don't think that's a good idea.

What, Bakura texted back, Too afraid of people?

I'm not. Melvin texted, then, out loud to himself, to reaffirm, "I'm not."

I think meeting other people might be good for you. And people will be drunk out of their minds, so it's not like they'll know anything about you. 

Melvin leaned back into his bed. Do I need other people?

You certainly can't rely solely on me forever. 

"And why not?" Mel wondered out loud. "You think I can't take care of myself?"

But instead, he texted, Can you pick me up, then?

Can't you drive? 

You think I'm taking a stolen car to a place full of other illegal activities?

...that's fair. Bakura texted, then texted, Look at you, making civilized, smart decisions all by yourself. 

***

Melvin wore the same thing that he always wore. He didn't really have much of a choice. 

But compared to everyone else there, he felt a little overdressed. He was surprised there was so much skin on everyone, especially due to the dreary weather and the rain just earlier that day—but it was hot, inside, with writhing bodies and blaring music and the stench of weed.