Bonded by the Blues | A Sander Sides Book

Chapter 43 - A Party Plays the Blues: Part 4

Well, what do you know? My writing decided to be funny today. I think this is the most partyish chapter so far? LOL. Let's see how Roman and Virgil navigate their post not-break up life.

Virgil grabbed a coke from a cooler and went in search of a place not to busy. He bumped into a few people, but a glare from him sent him scurrying away. Virgil had entered that particular zone of not giving a fuck about anything where all he wanted to do was to see how long he can last drinking and staring at people and thinking random thoughts that his brain never ran out of supplying. It may be because of the way things ended with Roman, because everything said and done, a good heart to heart might clear the air, but that does not mean the bruises go away completely. He had felt decidedly uncomfortable walking into the party with him, as what exactly were they supposed to do? Dance to a crappy song? Chat about who disappeared into the bushes with whom? Stuff their faces with food that probably didn't taste as great as they looked? His head listlessly bopped to the beat blaring from the speakers, though not registering the tune. He took a swig, and was mildly impressed that the dark brown liquid tasted passable to good. He found himself a overgrown window to park himself at, not near anyone he knew. It was as far away from the balcony he could get; the last thing he wanted to do was be reminded of Roman. It was good that he was somewhere else. He was glad that they agreed to stay friends, just not right now.

He heard someone hacking in the tall grass out the window. He wrinkled his nose. Someone probably had too much to drink. Not his problem. Except, Virgil's eyes blinked, this was someone he did recognise. He hopped out the window – careful not to step on anything unfortunate – and approached the hunch up guy slowly.

"Heimal?"

Heimal's yellow curls shook as he hurled his guts out. He looked up coughing, and almost had a spasm of joy upon seeing a familiar face, though it was far from friendly. He fished out a clean cream handkerchief and mopped his face with it.

"Virgil!"

"Hiya. It's always great to see your roommate of one day puking in the bushes."

"Where were you?"

"Hanging out with the cool kids."

"Aw. You were with Roman?"

Virgil scrunched up his brows. How did Heimal immediately jump to that conclusion? Well, stereotypically speaking, Roman I-know-every-person-from-zombie-to-celebrity Prince was probably the only person he knew who would be presentable in polite society. He shrugged with an off-handed air. "I might have been."

"So... are you two dating or something?"

Heimal looked genuinely curious and not mocking, otherwise Virgil would probably hissed at him. As it was, he felt like patting him on the head and tell nothing was fair in war and love. He will be living with the foreseeable future, would he not, so might as well act the big brother hot mess he hardly got to be with anyone else.

"Nope," said Virgil sticking his hands in his pocket. "We are just friends."

"Really? You two definitely have a lot more going on than "just friends"? Heimal actually did air quotes.

"You can totally be best friends with someone you didn't date but had a nasty break-up with."

"That's mood."

"If you talk like that with someone else, you'll get a black eye. It's weird. Did you download your vocab from a site for middle-aged screenwriters making high school movies?"

Heimal giggled. "You know what else is weird? I think I know Roman."

"Well he knows everyone and who their cousin dated. From where?"