Cry All You Want To (I Don't Care)

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“Sorry about my brother,” Mikey said as soon as he let Frank in the front door. Frank hadn’t even seen this mysterious older brother yet and Mikey was already apologizing for him. “Find the place okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, looking around at the cars parked on the front lawn of the townhouse. “Who’s place did you say this was?”

“Ray’s cousin—he told you that yesterday.” Frank stepped into the crowded entrance room and looked at all of the people he most certainly had a chance with. Drunk bitches were grinding on each other, hands holding red Solo cups up in the air. Cute and ugly dudes talking, drinking, and grinding on girls.

“Right,” Frank said.

“So, beer’s in the kitchen, liquor’s in the bathroom.”

“Why’s liquor in the bathroom?” Frank asked, scrunching his nose in confusion. Mikey shrugged and walked away through the crowd. Frank followed him to the beer in the kitchen, fearful of what could be in the bottles in the bathroom. “So, where’s your brother?” 

“Getting wasted in the bathroom,” Mikey called, handing Frank a cup of beer. “He drove here and won’t let anyone take his keys. He’s gonna kill someone tonight, so make sure you stay out from in front of his car.” The kitchen was covered in red and blue cups, some were full, some empty, some spilled. There were stacks of pizza boxes on the floor—empty and full—an empty tub that had once held fried chicken. It was obvious to Frank that he’d come to the party too late.

“Sounds like a fun a guy,” Frank said, raising his eyebrows and drinking the lukewarm beer from his cup. 

“Hey! Frank, you made it!” It was Ray, sauntering into the room with his arm around his girlfriend. 

“Yeah,” Frank said, tipping his hand to the sober-looking woman under Ray’s arm. 

“He met your brother yet?” Ray asked, stooping down to nuzzle his girlfriend. Frank felt a cruel spark of jealousy bolt through him and he took a swig of beer, glaring into the cup bitterly.

“Not yet,” Mikey said. “He still boozing in the bathroom?”

“He’s not boozing,” Ray said. “I think he’s kind of upset.”

“Or drunk,” Mikey said, drinking four swallows from his cup. “Or high,” he added, drinking again. “Or being a crybaby.” He added something else in a mumble as he finished off his cup remarkably fast.

“You really don’t like your brother,” Frank said, looking around the kitchen and watching a blonde guy come in to get another cup.

“I love the fucker,” Mikey said, throwing his cup on the floor despite Ray’s unhappy sigh. “But he’s a big fuckin’ baby who needs to grow up. I offer to take him out and what does he do? Locks himself in the bathroom and hides.”

“Shy?” Frank asked, trying to pretend that he was disinterested. 

“You have no idea,” Mikey mumbled. Frank chatted up Ray and Mikey for a little while before finishing another beer and going on the prowl. Mikey found a girl to make out with against a wall, Ray repeatedly kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and on the mouth.

Frank slid around the walls, looking for anyone about to pass out or otherwise vulnerable. He wasn’t a pervert, he wasn’t insane, and he wasn’t deranged…he just liked his victims weak. He hated relationships and all of their strings and ties and nooses. He hated having to listen and ‘be there’ when no one ever listened to him and no one was ever there for him when he needed it. 

It wasn’t a crime to have a one night stand, and if the person wasn’t conscious, it didn’t matter. It just saved them the memories and mixed emotions.