european // ONEYNG

its always eight

   "All I'm saying is," I started as I applied the mud mask in the bathroom, "is he should stop being boyfriend material if he isn't gonna' be my boyfriend."

   It had been a couple days since Chris and I had last hung out. We had been texting quite a bit, and FaceTiming, occasionally. I felt more comfortable with him, I felt less starstruck than I did at first.

   "I saw some shit he did," Todd admitted as he and Paul watched Ellen on the couch. "He's definitely gay, no doubt about it. My gay-dar was off the charts."

   "Your gay-dar is probably broken by now, you fucking fag," I joked as I put the jar of mask creme down on the counter and walked into the living room. "You don't have to use it anymore. The batteries ran out."

   "I think he's straight," Paul chimed in, "it's a genuine possibility. You should bring him around, I'm pretty good at telling those things. Don't trust Todd, he didn't even know I was gay until I kissed him."

   "Jesus, you have like no boxes," Todd noted, looking at the small mound of boxes in the corner the movers had brought a few days prior. There were around 15, most of which were clothes. "Hope you're moving into a studio."

"I am," I confessed, "I realised how much I hated having roommates, and since my sister was always out with friends growing up, it'll feel just like home."

   "When's the last time you've talked to your family, anyway?" Todd asked as he continued watching television, he could afford a nice place, a gorgeous display of matching art pieces, a beautiful set of cars, but he couldn't pay a few hundred for a nice television. He still had his old CRT from high school.

   "To be honest—" I was cut off by the door bell ringing through my ears. "I'll get it." I walked a few steps to the door and opened it without checking.

   Chris stood before me, he looked down at me with a smile, as if he were about to laugh. "Howdy, pard'ner."

   "Howdy, cowboy." I held my hand out inside the apartment to motion him inside. "What brings you 'round these parts?"

   "Was going to pick up my jacket." He motioned to me, which made me realise how awkward I was being by wearing it, yet, in my defence, it was cold in the apartment and my regular hoodie was in the wash. "Why are you doing blackface?"

   "Oh yeah, that. See, I hate black people. That's it." I stuck my hands in the hoodie pocket, and saw Chris had caught Paul's attention, "you want your hoodie?"

   "Don't worry about it," he shook his head, "you look better in it than I do."

   I didn't know much how to reply, my heart was racing from a simple compliment. I wondered how anything else would make me if I got flustered by something so friendly so easily.

   "Chris, is it?" Paul leaned over the back of Todd's sectional couch, he stood up and walked to Chris, and shook his hand, "Paul. Chloe, go wipe that stupid shit off your face."

   "You got it, boss." I saluted, I knew that meant Paul wanted to talk to Chris one-on-one, and I could hardly blame him. I walked into the bathroom and wet a towel with warm water. I hoped to hear what was going on, but I couldn't hear anything. I put makeup on as well while I was in there, since there was a low possibility Chris would want to hang out. Even if that weren't the case, I needed to go to run errands.

   When I had walked back out, Chris had a smile plastered across his face, Paul looked cocky, and Todd was upset. I couldn't tell what had happened, but I assumed Paul told a gay joke about Todd. It seemed like something Chris would find funny. "You wanna hang out for a bit?" I asked Chris and motioned to the television, "I finally bought a Dreamcast."

   "No," Chris coughed and continued smiling as if he were hiding something from me, "not right now, Matt and Ryan are waiting." He paused, "for me, um, and I gotta' go, bye." He waved me off and walked out the door without another word.

   "What the fuck did you say to him?" I interrogated, Todd shook his head and scoffed. I only grew more uncomfortable.

   "Pussy," Paul mumbled under his breath as he faced the door, "well, at least we know he isn't gay." Paul looked to Todd, who had been visibly annoyed by Paul's antics.

   "I still think he's gay," Todd defended himself with crossed arms, "I'll fuck him if I have to prove it."

   "He ain't fuckin' gay," Paul rolled his eyes and poured a cup of juice that had been left on the counter. "Oh, by the way, Chloe," Paul twisted the cap on the emptied bottle, "when you get art supplies today, get me a red paint."

   "Any reason why?"

   "Yeah, because I need red paint."

   "Fair enough," I pulled my phone out and saw a missed call from a friend in France. I decided to call them back later and text Arin.

   Arin, buddy ol' pal, where's a good art store around here?

   I didn't get an immediate response, I wondered if I wanted one, or if I wanted to hang out a little longer and sleep. I knew it was the latter.

   There's this place in Burbank, if you're willing to drive up there. I'll give you the address if you want.

   I did want, but I did not want Burbank. It sounded like a bad deal altogether. I despised the idea of Burbank, yet it was such a big city I couldn't help but accept. So, Arin sent me the address.

   On the way there, I got another text from Arin.

   Oh btw just so this is like

   Common knowledge or whatever lol

   We all know u like Chris lol haha get ur shit together

   Haha ur gay but srsly it's just me n Ross that know bc we kno u the best u horndog

   Bc u do like him right?

   I didn't know if I should've lied or not, so I didn't reply right away. When I did reply, I asked, what's the difference between these two paint brands? With hopes that the conversation would be dropped. I was already embarrassed enough as it were.