Chanthony - Losing You

Part Nine

SATURDAY, 11:47 PM

There was an electric current in the air.

Maybe it was the storm that had happened last night or some sort of remastering of destinies. Maybe he was highly tuned with the real world for once. Who knew? Who cared? The current rushed through him, zipping through the floors and the ceilings and the walls, conducting every person in the house, a house bursting with light.

The air tingled. The moon shone brightly. They walked, they danced, they raced to the car. Their words were alive. It was a warm and windy night. The city glowed with streetlights breaking through the dark sky. Words tumbled over and over each other and across one another, and the house grew louder and louder and never stopped.

"Congratulations to my fucking boys," Chad said, yelling at the top of his lungs, raising a glass filled with champagne in the kitchen to the entire team. Chance hadn't had anything to drink and already felt drunk on the love in the house, spilling and overflowing and pouring into his heart. He looked at Tony, and Tony looked back at him, his eyes proud, his smile cutting his cheeks in half, exposing his dimples. His heart sparked.

"Are we all ready to go?" shouts burst from the kitchen. Shouts of affirmation rose back, words being thrown around like fresh to death and dope and all the other words required as they piled into two separate cars, haphazardly, no certain directions of who went where. It was Nick Turk, Landon, Anthony, Chance, Ray, and the Martinez twins; Jake wasn't making an appearance at tonight's 30 million views celebration. That was all right. He would have just made the atmosphere worse. No, in this car, the atmosphere was healthy and warm and fun and exciting as they navigated the bright city streets and found the club before Martinez and Ray's Uber arrived.

"Fridays are for the boys!" Chance shouted, and the boys cheered in response, throwing the money to get in, Anthony and Chance linking hands without a second thought, then pulling away as usual. But this didn't break their stride. The music bumped up and down and the whole room vibrated with this energy that the night carried. The club was bouncing, too, almost full, the kind that they rarely frequented due to its price. It was two floors tall, one floor a balcony over the other, neon lights crisscrossing and overlapping and falling in brief spotlights over people's faces. A green light fell over Anthony's, illuminating the warm gaze he was giving Chance, an expression of adoration. Chance returned it carelessly. Surrounded by hundreds of people, nobody paid them attention. They were alone.

They hit the bar, yelling stupid things occasionally as they waited. They threw back some shots for a while, shouting and screaming and leaping on each other as they grew tipsier and tipsier, Chance snapping photo after photo and saving them for later, his arms flying into the air with every new beat that vibrated through him, sailing. The boys separated. They found girls. Girls went for them easy. They were tall. They were unimposing.

They stood close to each other, watching each other, uncaring about the girls in front of them, faces unseen. It was awkward, it was weird. Chance semi-enjoyed the feeling, but he mostly stared at Anthony and Anthony stared back, occasionally looking away. But Chance wasn't going to question a thing. Not tonight. He knew what he wanted. He wasn't going to back down.

Anthony broke away from the girl in front of him, leading her to look up in surprise and move on to another guy. Chance looked up in surprise when the girl in front of him turned around, trying to kiss him. He shook his head, followed Anthony to the bar. Anthony said nothing, didn't comment on the staring, didn't comment on shit. He ordered two more shots, gave one to Chance. They knocked them back in succession. Anthony reached for Chance's hands.