Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 36

Nate's POV

I'd always appreciated beautiful things. But with beauty, there always came a price. My father gave me large enough of a commission that I could afford to live in a modest type of luxury, a quiet yet opulently decorated flat on the seventh floor of building C in the South Park community. Although slightly pricier due to the windows' panoramic view over the sea, such sunsets were always worth the extra cash.

I was lying on my back in the window seat, cushioned by a thick mattress topper. I stretched myself out, turning my head to the right, staring aimlessly out the window. Declan had gotten me some good buds the last time we met and I'd just rolled a joint, puffing it idly. Biscuit had laid his head on my stomach some time ago, nuzzling my shirt with his warm nose. Giving in, I started stroking his head, but he had long since run away whining, turning his nose away at the smell of cannabis. I couldn't blame him. No one really smoked pot for the smell of it.

Closing my eyes, I could see Gage sitting across from me, his back against the wall, legs drawn up and eyes staring longingly through the windows, wishing himself far away. I never smoke around him; he'd always been your ideal athlete, who frowned upon smokers and drinkers and woke up at the crack of dawn every morning.

"You should try waking up to the sunrise. It's much less depressing," I gave him a funny look. Sunsets were more quiet than sunrises, but depressing isn't exactly the word I'd use.

"Do explain how exactly sunsets are depressing, Gage," he furrowed his brows, and seemed lost in thought, as if he was trying to find the right words.

"If you think about it, it's a metaphorical death. It feels like a defeat, in a way. The sun sets, and the light and warmth goes with it. It leaves us cold and empty, don't you think?" He held an empty bottle of beer in one hand, turning it over idly as he talked. He faced me then, his eyes bright in the sunlight and full of unguarded curiosity. He was beautiful; and most definitely drunk.

"You know the sun doesn't really go anyway don't you? It's the earth's-" he cut me off with a glare, "I might not have your brains, but I'm not that stupid,"

I gave him an unimpressed look, and he rolled his eyes, punching my shoulder lightly "C'moon, you know what I meant," he sounded genuinely upset and a tad bit whiny for being made fun of, and I chuckled.

"I suppose there's more than one way to look at it. I think it's more of a release from the inevitable end, rather than a defeat. It's an acceptance that even the last ray of sunlight is sniffed out at the end, and there isn't anything we can do about it," I took a deep breath, "We cling to life in such a desperate way, but we seem to forget we can't outrun death. It's exhilarating in its own way," I shrugged, and looked him dead in the eye. "Besides, where I'm from, there's no sun,"

He lit up just then, dropping his head backwards against the wall and laughing so loud I could hear him over the subwoofer's pounding. "You didn't just quote twenty-one pilots on me, did you"

I winked and sank back into the cushions.

He nodded absently, putting the beer bottle down, "What goes around comes around I suppose," he shrugged, "Like that snake that eats its on tail. Now that would be a dope tattoo idea," he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at me, and I tried not to laugh.

I'd been thinking of getting a tattoo for a while, and he'd been trying to come up with suggestions. He'd been failing miserably, until now.

"An ouroboros you mean. And yes. Yes it would,"

I absently traced the ouroboros tattoo on my wrist. I'd gotten it done two days after Gage and I had that conversation, and I couldn't bring myself to regret it.