+Lap Dance+

+Let Me Go+

   (Chapter one)

   Tom layed across the olive colored couch that layed smack-dab in the middle of the living room. The yellow walls were sickening as any bright colors made Tom feel his stomach churn. He rolled onto his side and glared at the T.V., which had lost connection a bit ago and the 'signal lost' text was bouncing around lazily on the screen.

   Tom's pale and callosed hands wrapped around a glass cup. He sipped from the glass, a clear liquid flowing swiftly down his throat. To the naked eye it was water, but to the tastebuds it was Thomas' favorite alcoholic beverage;Smirnoff vodka.

   Tom's rough and deep voice let a sigh of content slip past hus chapped lips. He swirled the cup, watching the liquid toss and swish around itself. He looked up as a door was shut, the click being quite audible in the silent room. Edd stepped in with a few plastic bags, followed by Matt.

   "Oh, Hey." Edd smiled. His mouth was curved so largely it almost appeared forced. His eyes were sad, though. He set the bags down quickly and cleared his throat. He clasped his hands together, "I have... A bit of news." Edd began.

   Tom gave Edd his full attention, his soulless voids attempting to connect with Edd's chocolate hues, but Edd refused. Matt looked quite upset as well, tears picking the sides of his eyes, but he does not allow them to what they pleaded.

   "Tom, we... We think you have to leave." Edd says. Tom's eyes widen, larger than usual. He chuckles nervously.

   "Nice joke... This.. This is a joke, right?" He asks. His BlackBerry colored nails scratched at the dark stubble on his chin in worry. Edd shook his head and Matt turned to leave, not wanting Tom to see him cry.

   "You know they charge for every person who stays in a flat and you haven't been holding up your side." Edd mumbles, "I cant afford to pay bills, rent and buy groceries." He runs a hand in his oak hair. Edd taps his foot impatiently, "You have to go, you have a week to move all your things from the room." He bends down to get the bags, heading to the kitchen. Matt can be heard bursting into tears as his sobs racked through the house.

   Tom stared at where Edd was standing before. He quickly stands and runs to the kitchen, his hands pressing against the island to add meaning to his posture.

   "I-I'll pay! I'll get a job, buy all the things I need! Pay bills for a few months!" He pleads, curling his hands into fists. He was scared, he had no job and would be on the streets if they set him out on his own.

   "Yes, but there is another problem. One I know you won't give up." Edd says, placing a gallon of milk on the top shelf of the fridge. He looks back at Tom with a blank face, "You're a drunkard." He simply says.

   Tom's breathing hitches. He squints at Edd, "And how is this an issue?" He whispers lowly.

   Edd chuckles, "Are you blind?" He asks. He turns his entire body to Tom swiftly, white strings on his hoodie swinging to the right with a jerk, "You could hurt us. Hell, you have hurt us!" He says.

   "Tell me one time I hurt you!" Tom yells. He is getting angered from stress and the laugh Edd is handing out.

   Edd leans leans towards Matt, who had his head in his hands as he shook and sobbed. He pushed the collar of Matt's hoodie back to reveal a very large and quite swollen bruise, "Tuesday. Three days ago." He tilts his head and points to a small scar below his ear, "When you were eighteen and just began drinking." He hums. He pats Matt's back, "Anymore? I'm sure we have plenty." Edd smiles.

   Tom stops. He can't push anymore. He looks down at his hands. His knuckles were white. He sniffed, "Fine." He says. He glares up at Edd, "I'll leave." His voice cracks as he turns and rushes to the doorway. He scrambles to the upstairs room and jumps onto the bed, pulling at his hair.

   He feels hot water stream down his cheeks as his cries. He won't be able to manage himself away from here. He has no place to go, no job. How could Edd do this?

   He stands. His mind is going to go down terrible paths if he doesn't calm himself. Tom puts his hand in his hair and sighs shakily. His sounds could be heard through the entire room it was so quiet. You could almost hear his tears hitting the sheets.

   Tom glances at the clock. 11:35. He grumbles. Edd and Matt had been in town, putting the news off so long that it was cutting towards midnight. They must have been discussing this in a parking lot because many markets were closed by ten o'clock.

   He stands and walks to the restroom. He turns and locks the door, glancing in the mirror. He cringed. His eyes had dark bags under them, his cheeks and forehead had blackheads scattered at random and his hair was matted. He was a wreck.

   He slips his shirt off. Even worse. He was ten times paler on his stomach. There was a slight pudge to his tummy, it squishing if you poked it a bit. There were stretch marks on the lower part, He had lost some weight and had seen the marks a while ago.

   Next were the pants. Tom's legs were shaved, he hated how his pants rubbed against the hairs, so he grew the courage to use the razor he had. Another shave tonight, it's getting long. His thighs hadn't managed to loose as much fat at Tom's stomach and we're still pretty thick. He frowned.

   He grabbed one and squishes it, "Ew." He mumbles. This got him thinking, 'is this the reason everyone avoids me? My looks?' He started the water to the shower.

   "I need to start going on jogs... But fuck it's cold in the mornings.." He grumbles. He sits on the side of the tub and pulls one leg onto his other. He wets his hand and grabs the soap, lathering it on his leg.

  "Not like I'll have anything other than the outside in a week." He huffs. He grabs the razor off the sink and slowly runs it up his leg. He grabs the towel and wipes the soap from the blades. He does this once more, then again and again. Until he sees red begin to gush from his ankle.

   He groans. Not from pain, he cam barely feel it. He just hates to clean the blood. He grabs his towel and pushes it on the cut, cleaning the razor once again. He sighs.

   "I think I'm starting to know why everyone thinks I'm gay." He mumbles. A scowl grows on his face, "But I'm not. That's disgusting." He chatters to himself.

   Tom didn't hate homosexuals per say, they just made him... Uncomfortable. He was taught that homosexuality is a sin his whole life and after you are brought up with something its hard to quickly change your mindset. He's doing better though.

   He turns the water to warm and lets it heat. He looks back in the mirror and glares at himself, "You don't deserve this home. Theyre doing exactly what they need to." He whispers.

  He slips his leg into the water before going in fully. He sighs as the hot eater runs over his body. He smiles, cherishing this. Only six more showers before he leaves.

   A knock sounded from the door, "Tom?"

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Word count: 1292
Time: Day and a half
Excitement to continue: Lukewarm