Liar at Heart, Lover at Best

One party. A hundred people. A thousand lyrics. A million words. It should have been simple, threading between their writhing bodies as they moved along with the beats of the music that thumped through the floor and up through their feet; filled their veins. If every arm brushed on the venture through was ignored then it wasn't too difficult to cross the dance floor - but if you got distracted, that could be the end of you.

His head rocked as he sucked in his stomach and squeezed his way through a few more dancers. It seemed that they were completely prepared to encase him if he showed the slightest of interest. He kept his eyes either half closed or staring up at the ceiling; focused, in his own way. The other side of the dance floor. The other side. That was the destination.

Sometimes his clothes would snag - on what, he wasn't entirely sure. He supposed a hand purposefully reaching out to wrap around the material and make him pause and glance back out of curiosity, but over and over again, he yanked his purple hoodie free and continued on.

It happened again, but this time he paused too long. Showed too much interest. Was suddenly swept into the flow of the music between a million dancers, feeling a thousand bodies against him and seeing just as many faces blurred in front of his eyes. By then, he was lost. Destination, forgotten.

He spun and raised his arms; swayed and jumped; moved and danced. There were whispers in his ears, but they weren't audible above the music. He could only hear the slightest of husky noises amidst the notes and see the flutter of lips before his gaze was torn from them; distracted again.

His mind was fading - slowly and surely, as people thrust drinks into his waiting fingers. He could never resist throwing it back down his throat as they watched. He was losing his sanity, head becoming more and more fogged. Then his mind was gone. Every intention was completely lost except for the crazy ones that entered his mind without any warning. Insane things that he would usually never dream of doing when his system wasn't tainted.

There was always that voice crying in his brain, begging him to do it. It was appealing, certainly, and usually very convincing. Once it started, it was hard to make it subside. He always gave in. Giving in was so much easier - and easy was what he did best.

He glided and writhed with everyone else. One face finally swam into focus amongst the rest. Pretty, innocent. Eyes framed with black eyeliner in contrast to a pale face, dusty brown hair and thin lips. Younger than him, certainly, but not by too much. A face vaguely recognised - but oh, who cared? He didn't... that voice was in his head now, coaxing him to get closer. Telling him to slowly play his pipe and lead this boy away from the others until they could disappear into one of the spare bedrooms only to appear again looking guilty and disarrayed; still willing to be entangled in each other's limbs, yet drifting away awkwardly.

Oh, he knew how it was going to end but the idea was still so compelling. It wouldn't go away.

He leaned in, letting out a shaky breath on the younger boy's cheek, whose thin lips curled upwards in a sly smile. Not so innocent after all.

Disillusioned dancing, one goal in mind, floating closer and closer to the hallway. The beat of the music slowly fading away as their heads found themselves elsewhere. 'Elsewhere', a beautiful place. A place with sex and boys and booze.

Then suddenly they were in the hall and temptation could no longer be fought. Hands were tearing at clothes before the door had even been opened. Fingertips grasping at zippers. Friction between bodies. He gently pushed the boy from him - he wasn't completely insane, was he? He knew to wait until the door was closed.

It ended just the same as always. Battered breathing; snatching up clothes that had been strewn across the floor carelessly; avoiding each other's eyes while pulling jeans up over hips; then back over to the door where he could suddenly hear the music again. It pulled him back - but into what? An almost reality?

He wasn't sure whether his mind was clearer or even foggier after the experience - he could argue both. It was clearer because he could remember what he was meant to be doing rather than fucking a boy, yet foggier because he still felt dazed and almost wanted to go back in the room and do it again.

But, no, he needed to focus now. On her. As he shook his head to clear his mind, apologies tumbled forward. He tried to gather the things he could stammer out before collecting his disposition and finally being able to form an articulate lie a few seconds too late.

I lost you, I just couldn't find you.

I had to go to the bathroom, there was a huge line.

I found Ryland throwing up outside, I had to help him. I couldn't just leave him.

Baby, what? I don't remember you telling me to meet you here. What are you talking about? Honey, have a drink...

Then she spoke and every line fled.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

He squinted at her, raising an eyebrow. "I-I-I..." He took a breath. Compose yourself. "Ryland was outside - throwing up a fucking alien. Shit, sorry, I didn't realise I was so late..."

She didn't look impressed and brushed over the lie without a second thought. He was always choking them out these days, it didn't make much of a difference to her.

"I want to go."

"But, baby, the party's just starting - we can't go yet." He grabbed her arm, attempting to pull her onto the dance floor. He wasn't sure why. He had had a dose for the night, and she wasn't particularly interesting to him. He almost wanted to do as she said - go home and just collapse. For some reason he could never pull himself away, even though it was better for him.

"I want to go," she repeated.

There was no arguing with a woman using that kind of tone.

"Okay, we'll go." He held her hand as they made their way for the door. "I love you," he added as he took another step toward - and then past - the pounding music.

She barely hesitated. "I love you too."

Everyone knows he tells lies.