Status: Discontinued

Have Kids, Then We'll Talk

What's at the Bottom of That Bottle?

Half a cup of vodka, some soda to drape the clear liquid in murky blackness to cover up the fact that I was mostly consuming hard alcohol and not just a mixture. I didn’t want to hear Dan’s nagging that it was too early to drink and Charlie’s disappointed look as if she was any better than me. I just wanted to numb the pain that thumped against my skin- they got me again, the jocks, the rich boys with fancy cars and more pussy than an animal shelter. They caught me on my way out of school. Dragged me with all their fucking strength into an alley where they took turns punching me on my torso and arms and legs- making sure to avoid the face less they want to be bombarded with accusing questions. They didn’t need to hit me in the face to leave a lasting mark- oh, their words did enough.


“Fudge packer.”


They went after my parents- insinuating that my mother sucks a lot of cock and my dad enjoyed the comfort of my bed. The part about my father was a lie- not sure about my mom though. I wouldn’t put it past her to be quite honest. But that’s not really the issue, is it? The issue is I am covered in bruises from my chest down- with scraps and cuts to add to color to the black and blue painting that became my body. Before I wandered rather drunkenly to Dan’s house, I examined the damage in my full length mirror- half admiring how deep the shade of purple was on my stomach and how the wound on my wrist festered and turned into a bright color red only seen in one of Jared’s prize winning paintings. I also had some nice scratch marks on my neck from whichever faggot thought it was cool to scratch like a chick.

I didn’t feel like getting interrogated by Charlie or Dan- since I knew it wouldn’t amount to anything sexual, so what was the point?- so I covered the nasty scars with a plain black shirt, jeans, and a The Used hoody just to piss Charlie off. The scratches on my neck were exposed proudly, and I contemplating pulling a “Gerard Way” and covering them with a bandana (circa Projekt Revolution 2007). But I already had Charlie knocking on the door saying I was “more of a girl” than her, and Dan calling a hundred times to ask me the same fucking question. Plus, who the fuck owns a bandana.

No one noticed them anyway, as expected. Charlie was too busy typing on her sidekick to one of those slut scene queens she chooses to associate with. Dan was being Dan- which by now should be self explanatory. I hid myself in the kitchen, making the excuse that I just wanted to grab a soda, mixing my brew that would hopefully get me drunk in two glasses.

“Aiden!” Dan whined, walking into the kitchen with a pout on his smooth face. He looked like my clone for a second- wearing virtually the same outfit, except his hoody read Taproot. “Come on, we are going to play Guitar Hero.”

I forced my eyes away from him and took a large gulp of my drink. It burned as it went down my throat- setting fire in my stomach but warmed my body. Relaxing the aching muscles and soothing the throbbing bruises. I could have used some pot or xanax or a valium in that moment- anything that would leave me inebriated. But, alas, the only medication ever in the Iero home was Dan’s medication, and I didn’t trust that shit.

“Play the first round without me,” I said solemnly, “I’ll be there in a second.”

I could feel him pouting, “What’s wrong, Aiden.”

That’s it, caring and focused Dan was not cool. Not now. Not today. I shot my hand down my pants, almost feeling the look that Dan was giving me, before wrapping my fingers around the Full Throttle and pulling it out of my blue jeans. “Here, have fun.” I tossed the can to him, which he caught but looked at it as if it was covered with bugs or something.

“It was in your pants!” he shrieked.

“Well, you’ll be in them soon enough, might as well get used to it.”

And I mentally prepared myself for his expected remark. “I’m not gay Aiden!”

“Who are you trying to convince, you or me?”

Dan let out a frustrated huff, and walked back into the living to bitch about me to Charlie or something of a similar nature. I clicked my jaw and flushed whatever was now weighing on my mind down the metaphorical toilet, and downed the rest of my drink. Nothing. The pain was soothed but I was conscious enough to feel the humiliation of being attacked. I was starting on another drink when I was joined by Charlie. I didn’t even have to look up to know it was she who walked into the kitchen- I could smell her expensive perfume some mysterious admirer by the name of Aiden gave her some time ago. I knew she was leaning against the wall, watching me with cautious interest as I poured the two types of vodka into the glass…

“If you are making a vodka and coke, you may want to add the coke.”

“I’m getting to it. Want one?”

“I thought we promised Dan no drinking.”

I shrugged and poured the soda into the drink; watching the way it plagued the clear liquid and made it black and almost unwanted. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, will it?”

She sighed, “You were the one who said we should just hang out-“

“I know what I said,” I snapped, “I just need this.”

“Why? Why don’t you talk for once instead of drowning yourself in alcohol?”

I shot her a mock glare, “Should I really be taking drinking advice from you?”

I don’t know if I was taking a stab at her, or her father, but the effect was the same. The look of anger flashed across her normally cool features, thin fingers clenched into a tight fist, and if I didn’t know any better I thought she would have punched me in the face. But she knew me to.

And so she didn’t say anything, she just walked over and snatched the beverage from my hand. “Thanks baby.” With a condescending smile, she turned and joined Dan in the living room. I waited a few moments before making my next move- listening intently at the soft mumbles coming from my two friends. Once the mumbles transformed into normal conversation about Guitar Hero and movies, I reached into my pocket for a small bottle of Devil Springs- quickly downing the liquid. That was good enough, for now. I felt as if I was in a daze, everything blurring in front of me- and I wondered when I had become so susceptible to the numbness of alcohol. I didn’t dwell. I straightened up and feigned sobriety as well as I could.

In the living room, Dan was already attempting to play his favorite game, Guitar Hero. And when I say attempted, I mean it. Dan Iero was like his father when it came to guitar skills- an expert guitarist at the mere age of eight it seemed, though Frank would argue it was much earlier….more like when Dan was in the womb. However, when it came to Guitar Hero, Dan just couldn’t play. At all. It was actually quite entertaining watching him hold that little plastic guitar and try to follow along to a premade song- that in actual life, he had already mastered- only to be booed off stage. The way his green orbs would narrow and his face would contort into that of anger and failure, was oddly attractive on the normally goofy looking boy.

“Dan! You’re supposed to hit the blue button!” Charlie laughed.

“I am! I am!” When actually he was hitting the red button, “Oh fuck!”

I took my rightful seat next to Charlie, on the Iero’s black leather couch, and watched as Dan barely survived through the song. My eyes were focused on the way his ass cheeks would tense every time he hit star power or missed another note. I was pretty focused on that, when Charlie moved to rest her head on my shoulder, and suddenly I was pretty interested in were her hand fell on my thigh. The perks of being bisexual.

“I liked the drink,” she purred.

“It was my drink,” I slurred slightly, “You owe me.”

She craned her neck slightly to get a good look in my eyes, “What about all the cigarettes you have stolen from me?”


She relaxed, content in her defeat, and I wrapped my arm around her body. But I wasn’t going to play innocent with her- not what she was intentionally rubbing my thigh as if she was ignorant to the tingles of friction that shot right to my crotch. I shifted uncomfortably and surveyed the scene- Dan still attempting to beat “Dead!” on expert, Charlie focused on her vibrating sidekick, and me….with hands. Hands that enjoyed touching and feeling any bit of skin she could offer for me. I ignored the little bit of conscience that was screaming in the back of my head, and danced my fingers across the side of her stomach.

She didn’t flinch. Her blue eyes still focused on the bright screen of her sidekick. I slipped my hand down her black sweatpants, taking some comfort in the way she caught her breath, before venturing further. And if she wanted to object, she wasn’t alluding to it, the way her body unintentionally moved to give me more room. Maybe she was testing me? Not thinking I would actually go through with it. I proved her wrong when danced my hand over her exposed sex….

And that’s when she realized how many things were wrong with this picture…

She gasped, shot up, “Aiden you fucking jerk!” She smacked my arm as hard as she could- and if I wasn’t half drunk I would have cringed from the pain of my wounds being aggravated. But instead I laughed at the look of her face- half anger, half embarrassment, half want.

“What?” I pretended to act all innocent, even as a quiet chuckle escaped my lips.

She huffed loudly, “Why do you always have to act like such a fucking pig!”

Charlie jumped off the couch, and proceeded towards the bathroom- me on her heels despite Dan’s confused look. “Oh, like you didn’t want it,” I countered, grabbing her arm, and swinging her body to face mine.

“You’re so arrogant, you think everyone wants you!”

“Not everyone, just you.”

Charlie struggled against my grip on her arm, but I held her firmly, eyes narrowing at her lack of cooperation suddenly.

“I don’t want you, get that through your head!”

“Then what do you call before?”

“What the fuck are you talking about!”

I rolled my eyes, “You were caressing my fucking thigh.”

“Oh grow up, I was not!” She managed to unlock my grip on her, and stomped into the bathroom- slamming the door and shaking the walls of Dan’s apartment. I wasn’t going to let her get away with that- no fucking way. I banged on the door, shouting for her to come out and to stop acting like a prudish bitch. She retorted with her normal slurs of obscenities. Poor Dan was standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders, trying to get me away from the bathroom before I broke the door down with my fists.

“Aiden, stop it,” he shook me, “leave her alone for a second!”

He managed to pull me away, and push me up against the wall- swinging me around so I could be met with his cold green eyes. Dan’s cheeks were red from anger of what I did and the frustration of the fighting. “What’s your problem?”

“She started it!”

“I don’t care, just…ugh.”

He moved his hands down my arms, stopping at my wrists and pinning me against the wall. Not like I could fight him. The room was spinning and blurring in front of my eyes, and the effects of the alcohol made my body limp and unresponsive to my demands. I took this time to breath in and our rapidly, attempting to expel the anger towards Charlie and her fucking antics. I focused on my shoes, tying to stop the bile from flying up my stomach- wondering how I became such a light weight.

“Are you okay now?” Dan’s voice was calmer, softer, as he spoke, “Charlie, are you okay in there?”

“Tell Aiden to go fuck himself.”

“I take that as a yes then?”

I was about retort- saying something I knew would hurt her and something I would regret- when all three sidekicks started screeching their respective obnoxious ringtones. I dug through my jean pocket for mine, cursing myself for choosing to wear tight jeans on all the fucking days. Dan flipped his open, Charlie emerged from the bathroom, and I finally managed to get the blasted thing out of my back pocket; noticing the caller id read “The Dickless Wentz.”

“Dick, what the hell does he want,” I snapped, flipping up the screen and reading the message.

Party at Dick Wentz’s house, right now. All are welcomed; price of admission is a six pack of beer or pot. This is the Back to School party of the year, don’t be a stupid and miss it!

Jared must of written it- I doubt Dick’s knowledge in spelling exceeds “party” and “touchy touchy five dollars please.” Regardless, if it was any other night, I would have attended this so-called “party of the year” considering Dick sure knew how to throw the most insane bashes our school has ever seen. But I knew who would be attending the party- the vixen Madie Way and the slut Cassie Lee. The two banes of my fucking existent, who seemed to have made it their mission to steal my two best friends. I looked up from my sidekick, to see that look in Charlie’s eyes that screamed: “Holy shiz party lolz, letz get drunkz!” Dan had an almost similar look but it quickly changed to “Holy crap Dick can spell!?”

“Oh we are not fucking going to this!” I said, “We promised to just make it the three of us!”

“But we aren’t doing anything else,” Charlie sighed, “all we are doing is watching Dan fail miserably at Guitar Hero.”

“Hey! I was not failing!”

“But….but we can do something else, like watch a movie or order food. Or go out to get food. Or to a bar. Just the three of us.” I must have looked as pathetic as I sounded. I was like a dog pleading for its masters to stay home and not leave him to wallow on the couch by itself. I knew Dan would stay. Dan would stay for me. Charlie was the one giving me that look that screamed she was done with me. With me in my entirety. Her phone was vibrating was calls from Madie and Cassie and the possible mystery man she has been flirting with- all begging her to join this party. She had no need for me; not at all. In fact, she probably hasn’t had a need for me since she was eight and discovered she could hang out with Cassie without me tagging alone. It was then she discovered she could party without me, and drink without me, have a good time without me. While I could only fall on Dan. She had every right to walk out that door and leave me behind again: and she would have done just that, not just to piss me off but to prove that I wasn’t in control of her life.

“Please, Charlie Cakes,” I cooed, forcing my eyes to tear up.

She threw her hands up in the air, “Fine Aiden, whatever!”

I suppressed a smirk that demanded to dance across my face until she stomped back into the kitchen to raid Dan’s liquor cabinet. I turned to Dan who was looking at me blankly…..

“I don’t suck at Guitar Hero.”

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me Danny Boy,” I smiled, and he arched an eyebrow.

“What are you- Hey! Stop calling me Danny boy!”

“Sorry.” But I wasn’t. I wasn’t sorry about anything I did…

Or anything I was going to do.