A Peculiar Solace {Hardzello Love Story}

Three

Joe was there a little over a week when a fight finally broke out. He didn't know what it was about, but punches were thrown and the guys were tossed into solitary confinement. One of the guys had made a shank and because of that everybody had their rooms checked. Joe didn't have anything. And neither did Ben.

A few people had some things they should have. Like tiny bottles of liquor or pens. Somebody got caught drinking the ink. Someone else has rolling paper that they were licking. And one guy. He had cigarettes.

Joe didn't know how he did it but he stole some. He was sneaky and distracted one of the nurses while he swiped the loose cigarettes from the container box. He hid them carefully and just held them in the room.

He didn't have matches or a real lighter. No way to start it up to actually smoke it. So he just held it in his mouth and pretended. He was good at pretending. It was almost good.

People always told her how terrible smoking was and what not. Joe would just roll his eyes. Everybody had their vices, this was just his. Well, this and the whole wanting to kill himself but that was more of a dark personality trait while smoking was a traditional habit. Joe missed the good old days when smoking was accepted and cool. All the handsome men in all the movies; the glamerous women with their cigarette holders. Now if you smoked, you were a shitty person.

Joe knew he was a shitty person. He didn't need a universal reminder of that.

A few days later in the garden, Ben had found him again. Joe was sitting in the corner, facing away from the nurse who had another book in hand. He was sitting there, holding the cigarette in hand. Ben came over and moved to sit beside him. He was watching him, smirking at his attempt.

Reaching forward, he took the cigarette and held it carefully in his hand. "This is theft." He spoke. "Impressive."

"You're positive there's no lighter fluid in that thing?" Joe asked, almost desperately.

Ben hummed, twirling the cigarette in his fingers. He pulled something out of his pocket then. A pair of glasses. They were fragile but real. Ben turned then, going to sit in the sun. He held the glasses up to the glare, allowing it to shine down on the grass, on the cigarette.

Joe watched with amazement that after a few moments, the paper began to burn. A first starting from the reflection. Like magic.

"Holy fuck," Joe muttered, his eyes wide. He looked back frantically. The nurse still had her nose in the book. "I think you're my hero."

Ben brought the cigarette to his lips to a smooth drag. Joe had never been so jealous of a pair of lips in his life. Reaching forward, he offered the cigarette back to him. "Suck it down, Joey boy. Remember: smoking kills."

Joe scrambled to take it, bringing it to his lips and taking a deep inhale. It was dusty and musky and it felt like actual heaven. The only thing that would have made it better was if he was smoking pot over tobacco but this was enough for now.

They went back and forth, sharing the cigarette and just sitting together outside. When it was finished, Joe buried the butt in the dirt. His fingers were dirty from doing so and his breath smelt like smoke. When they got back inside, Ben led him into the bathroom.

"Wash your hands." He told him. "If they see it, they'll think you ate dirt." Joe did as he was told, washing his hands roughly with the tiny bit of soap they offered them.

They had a bathroom they shared, only showers, toilets, and a few sinks. He bought the water to his mouth to wash the scent out of it. Ben stood behind him, flipping the zippo aimlessly.

"How many did you take?" He asked him. They were alone for a short moment.

"Four."

Ben hummed, nodding. His glasses were in his pocket once again. Joe wondered if he even needed them since he never seemed to wear them. "Next time, we'll only smoke half." He said and then left the bathroom.

Three cigarettes for three more weeks. They could make it work.

Joe found it strange. Being in this place and making plans. He figured it was just a way of life for them. A way to make the days less long. Less boring. Another way to survive.

The next time he interacted with Ben was during a movie night. They were seated together while some romantic film played out on the screen. Nobody was really paying attention, nobody but Joe.

Joe wondered how they were able to play Gone with the Wind in a place like this, but he didn't question it. It was one of his favorite films of all time. It was perfectly made, from the script to the acting, from the cinematography to the directing. This was one of the films that made Joe want to be a writer. Made him want to create things.

And it was just another reminder that he never would because never in a million years could he come up with something even half as good as this.

He shifted in the seat when the kiss came on. It was slow and romantic, with the music playing on. The only other person paying attention was Ben and he didn't seem phased. Did he not see how amazing it was? How sexy for the time period?

Joe had never kissed someone like that. He didn't deserve a kiss like that. His own romantic love life was garbage. He dated people and slept with people, but never felt anything for them. Nobody understood his passion and his power.

He was a loser anyway. A failure. Who the fuck would want to be with him?'

Movies like these, the good ones. The really good ones would also be something he missed when he was gone. Food and movies. That was it.

When the movie was over everyone was sent to his room. Nobody really spoke, though Ben walked beside him. "What did you think?" Joe asked. He found that Ben was just down the hall from him. It was a short walk so he had a short conversation.

Ben shrugged, spotting by Joe's door. "It was all right." He commented.

Joe wanted to tell him that it was more than all right. That it was perfect and wonderful and a fucking classic, but Ben continued.

"Personally I prefer Singin' in the Rain, but that's just me."

Joe's voice was caught in his throat. He hadn't seen the film in so long. It was another classic. Gene Kelly was a genius. And Debbie Reynolds was a Goddess. Ben went to his room then and Joe went into his own. As he laid back in his bed, he wondered if Ben had never been kissed like Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh.