If We Weren't Such Good Friends I Think That I'd Hate You

Rhys was always the stylish one. Just like Joseph’s ability to dance, Rhys’ ability seemed to be able to dress well. Faris didn’t think he had a bad dress sense, but Rhys always seemed to put everybody to shame.

Faris liked and disliked this trait of Rhys’. Faris stood before Rhys in his black drainpipes and dress shirt, while Rhys stared him up and down. Faris was waiting for Rhys’ critical analysis.

“You need to try to change it up a bit, you know, you can’t wear the same clothes forever.” protested Rhys.

“I don’t plan on wearing them forever, I just plan on getting a good use out of them.” muttered Faris.

“By the looks of the ink on the sleeves of that shirt, I think you got its use!” replied Rhys, scoffing at the stains on Faris’ favourite shirt. “What, is it a bit difficult to keep it all on the pages?”

Faris gave Rhys a look that told him the conversation was over and Rhys knew it was time to drop the clothes situation. It’s not like it made a difference how Faris dressed, he didn’t seem to care anyway.

“So, why are you all dressed up so early anyway?” asked Rhys, sitting on the couch and lighting up a cigarette. “I don’t see Tom around, are you guys meeting up somewhere?”

“Always with the questions.” sighed Faris. “I’m meeting someone for a few drinks.”

“Really?” asked Rhys cheerfully. “A get-together, then?”

“No, we’re not really getting together, we’re just having a few drinks.” corrected Faris, folding his arms.

“And who’s this person you’re talking about?” asked Rhys curiously, raising his eyebrows at Faris. “For the love of all that’s good, please tell me this isn’t Peaches you’re talking about so vaguely?”

“I’m not talking vaguely.” said Faris defensively.

“You are talking vaguely, and you just completely avoided my question.” replied Rhys, a smirk settling on his perfectly structured face.

“It’s not Peaches, it’s Kyle Falconer.” said Faris dully, glaring at Rhys for being so completely nosy.

Faris hated the questions. Questions, questions, questions. What did it matter if he was going out with his ex-girlfriend who completely ripped out his heart before? I mean, typically that’s what every ex-girlfriend does, it wasn’t like an abnormal situation

“You’re dating Kyle Falconer?” squeaked Rhys, his face showing almost some sort of repulsed expression. “Never doubted it with you, you know. They always accuse me, but something told me about you-”

“It’s a ‘friend‘ thing, Rhys.” interrupted Faris loudly. “I carried him up an infinity amount of stairs a few nights ago and now he wants to ’repay’ me.”

Rhys let out a chuckle. “Okay then.”

Faris hauled out his sketchbook and began to draw, trying his best to cover every corner of the page. Time seemed to pass a lot quicker and pleasanter when he and Rhys didn’t have to make awkward conversation about his session of drinking with Kyle. It was especially more pleasant when he didn’t have to hear the name ‘Peaches’.

Faris had avoided everything he could think of that would somehow remind him of Peaches. Faris figured that if he never had to think about her, he wouldn’t have to have her in his life anymore. It was actually working perfectly well. Repressing the feelings turned out to be very easy.

“It’s nearly seven, you know.” said Rhys.

The sound of Rhys’ voice nearly made Faris jump. He’d been so into his own mind and the sketching that he’d completely lost track of everything. It was actually a bit surprising to see that Rhys was still sitting, cross-legged on his couch. He shoved his sketchbook into his bag and stood up.

“You’re really going to go out with that shirt on?” asked Rhys, hoping to give the clothing lecture one more go.

Faris didn’t even respond, he just waved at Rhys and left his apartment. It felt like no time and he was at a surprisingly almost empty bar. There was a thick smell of smoke, and the painted walls looked unbelievably faded. Faris couldn’t help but wonder why Kyle would tell him to meet him at the worst possible bar.

“The man is fucked.” whispered Faris to himself, slowly sitting himself on a stool at the bar.

“Anything for you, mate?” asked the bartender.

“Uh, I’ll have vodka.” mumbled Faris, his eyes darting around him.

It was a bit awkward for Faris to just be sitting at the bar and drinking by himself. But, for some reason, he just sat there. Faris hauled out his sketchbook and started to draw again, continuing to order drinks and glancing around to see if Kyle had arrived.

“Think you’ve had enough yet, son?”

Faris looked up at the bartender, suddenly realizing that the empty bar was now completely empty besides him. He must`ve been at the bar for hours. He felt slightly light-headed, his mind was a bit dizzy. How many vodkas had he drank?

“Lovely.” muttered Faris, paying his tab and leaving the bar. “Drunk.”

Faris continued to stumble his entire way back to his apartment. He wasn’t used to being drunk, he didn’t really ever drink. Faris was quite impressed with his ability to walk, though, he was very glad that he wasn’t as drunk as Kyle would get. It would be extremely difficult to find someone to drag Faris’ long body all the way back to his apartment.

“Faris?”

Faris grimaced as Tom called out to him. He should have known that Tom would still be awake in the living room, probably worrying about him for being out so late and drinking. Tom didn’t have much faith in Faris when he drank due to a few times when he got drunk and ended up getting a bit clumsy, breaking a few of Tom’s records and a few dishes.

Faris walked into the living room, realizing that Tom was accompanied by Rhys and a Joshua, who appeared to be fixated on whatever was playing on the television.

“Are you drunk, Faris?” asked Rhys, a smile burning on his face.

Faris glared at him.

“Maybe someone’s drugged him.” suggested Joshua, his eyes not leaving the television.

“He was out with Kyle Falconer.” said Rhys, putting his finger to his mouth as if he were really contemplating.

“So, how was your night, then?” asked Tom curiously. “Since it seems as though you won’t be sharing any details.”

“Yes, try not to be so vague either.” added Rhys.

Faris continued to glare. “He didn’t show up. I did get to fill out my entire sketchbook, though.”

Rhys and Tom shared an awkward glance, Faris could see their expressions through the corner of his eye.

“Oh.” responded Rhys, making a ‘hmpf’ noise afterwards. “That was rather rude.”

“Don’t happen to know where he went instead?” asked Tom.

“If I knew that… I would know.” sighed Faris, clumsily crossing his legs after taking a seat next to Rhys on the couch.

“I think I know where he was.” laughed Joshua, an echoing sound of some sort of hyena sounding laugh.

“Elaborate for us, Josh.” suggested Rhys.

“He’s kind of on the television.” replied Joshua, pointing at the screen.

The four of them looked at the television, realizing that Joshua was very correct. There was Kyle, being dragged out of a bar and into a police car. His hair was messy and Faris noticed that his black eye stood out a lot worse now.

“Well, this would certainly explain why he wasn’t there.” said Faris, continuing to stare at the television like everybody else.

Words were flying all over the screen as the reporter quickly spoke. Faris ignored the reporter and tried to read the words. He figured out that Kyle was arrested for cocaine possession and put on bail. Kyle was seen throwing his two middle fingers up to the camera as he was being thrown into the car.

“That’s a miserable sight.” said Rhys.

Faris could hear Joshua trying to stifle a laugh and Tom just appeared to be completely bewildered.

“I’m going to bed.” said Faris quietly, getting up from the couch and walking into his bedroom.

Faris stripped off his clothes and lay back down on his bed, surprisingly finding it extremely difficult to not fall asleep. Faris decided not to fight the urge to sleep and curled up into his blankets, hoping that the outcome of the night’s drinking wouldn’t affect him in the morning.

When Faris woke up, he instantly wished he hadn’t. He’d forgotten to close his curtains, so the sun glared into his eyes. The beaming sun wasn’t half as bad as the dehydration that seemed to be kicking in.

Faris moaned to himself, his stomach feeling like it was curling itself into a ball in the pit of his stomach. He pushed off his sheets and stood up, pushing open his door with as little effort as possible to make his way to the kitchen.

That’s when Faris noticed that Kyle Falconer was asleep on his couch.