Whatever You Want To Be

The Party pt. 2

The aftermath

Winstons POV

He literally beat me up. What the actual fuck. Why. Why must I always do this to myself.

Why do I have to go for the guys who are clearly, very closeted. Its even worse that the guy, Monty, which I found out was his name, has an extreme case of internalized homophobia. Now because of my horniness, here I am, laying on my bed in pain.

I don't even know how I could possibly be thinking about Monty right now. It would make sense to think about him and be angry with him because he beat me up, but no. All I'm thinking about, is how much I wanted to see his face again.

He's so fascinating to me. The way he had pulled away from our kiss, only to respond more hungrily than myself. I could tell he barely received affection from anyone. I couldn't find it in myself to correct his roughness though. Monty needed it.

Damn it.

Monty's POV

If you had asked me about the party, I would have pretended I had no idea what you were talking about. It's a simple reason really, because nothing had happened. Therefore, it has no significance, which is why I don't recall any party.

Fuck, if it was that easy inside my head. I've spent the last two weeks trying to forget and drown out the memories of that night. At first I was worried that they boy would tell. In fact I was sure he would. After all, I beat the shit out of him for practically no reason. Damn my moronic fists. Bryce reassured me that he had taken care of the situation, so I put my trust in his words. I always did.

My thoughts then became content for about three minutes when I realized it was all over, that no one would ever know what truly happened that night. Even being glad, that because I had fucked up the pretty boy, he would want nothing to do with me.

Then of course, my stupid brain started to contradict those thoughts when it realized: What if I want to see the boy again. But then again, didn't I just say myself that he wouldn't want anything to do with me since I assaulted him? Now I was mad at myself for ruining my chances. Fuck. Now I'm mad at myself for being mad about how I might not see the boy again. Why would I be mad about that? Why do I want to see him again? I had it all figured out...well at least for the most part until this dude came along. I thought about this a lot, hating myself more and more as I continued to let the boy roam my mind.

In the end, my autopilot won over my brain itself. Stop being a faggot. Get your fucking life together.

But what was his name?

~ 2 months since the party~

The incident was nearly forgotten in my head. I started to focus all my attention to football. It was around mid season now, and the team was preparing for the game against Hillcrest.

Bryce and I's friendship is long gone now, years of reliance down the drain. I could never admit it out loud, but it shattered me when Bryce decided he didn't want to be around me anymore.

The rest of the team was all I had left, and I would rather die than lose to Bryce's team. I continued to get more angry with him as he kept pestering me about Tyler, and could feel my aggression towards Bryce grow stronger. It would be this way from now on, I guess.

A/N: sry the timeline is kinda weird. just want to let u know that most of my chapters will probably be pretty short and to the point, so expect chapters around the same length as this one (unless i'm feeling productive) thanks for reading!💕