Comic Boys

London giggled, his whole body shaking as he tried to suppress his laughter as his friend Jeremy pressed the cup of lemonade to his pink lips despite the fact the last time he had done it lemonade had come out of London's button nose. People had started leaving the games day, since it was already about three in the afternoon, and I had been chilling with Jeremy and London for a solid five or so hours now, and I had gotten to know them both somewhat well. London was much more receiving of me than Jeremy, and I had been getting the death stare from him ever since I walked through that door. I was probably on his hit list now or something, or maybe he's get some voodoo doll and stab pins into it pretending it was me. Yeah, morbid thoughts, I know. I was a pretty depressing guy, boring inside and outside, according to Jaimie.

London laughed loudly, slapping Jeremy, who grinned as the cup in his hand was snatched away, London smirking before turning to me. Something about the way he and Jeremy were sharing the same beanbag annoyed me, making that vein in my forehead pulse like a metronome that had started to lose its battery power, the ticker slowing down as Jeremy's eyes met mine, almost challenging me. Something about that just seemed to get me riled up, and I was never a person to let my emotions get the better of me.

I had only just met London, and we had only had a proper conversation a matter of hours ago, but for the kid had just wriggled his way past my defences that were supposed to be sky-high. Maybe it was the way he gave off a happy-go-lucky vibe that just made me forget about all the shit mum and dad put me through. My mood was dampened at the thought of mum and dad. They had tried to mould me to be the perfect son, the perfect being. Making me sign up for three sports, making me take extra classes on Sunday afternoons, making me learn two instruments of completely different stature, one woodwind and one stringed, and had basically mapped out my future in stone. They wanted me to become a doctor, or something of the like. They had never liked me passion for the arts, for drawing and painting and sculpting. They had said it was a waste of my time, but it's not like they gave me any in the first place.

London threw something at my head, a little wad of paper, and I found myself brightening again. How could he do that. He threw a piece of paper at my forehead for Christ's sake! Who suddenly feels happy when a piece of paper hits their face? Something was seriously, seriously wrong here. Something was happening to me, and I wasn't even sure it I liked the change of if I hated it. I sure as hell didn't hate London- he was someone you just couldn't hate, with that smile full of sunshine that made me feel sickly sweet every time I saw it, or that soft giggle that just tickled your ears, making you want to hear more. No note I had ever played on the clarinet or on my cello had ever sounded so nice, and no soccer game, athletics meet or swimming competition had every made me so out of breath. When London spoke to me, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper, the little dimples popping onto his cheeks as he smiled nervously just made me lose my breath.

He was doing something to me, something that no one had done before. And the funny thing about it? He had no fucking clue that he was making me so strung up.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," London said quickly, hopping up. "Jekyll made me drink to much! I feel like a freaking cactus." I covered my smile at his odd analogy as he scuttled off to the bathroom down stairs, leaving me and Jeremy alone in the upstairs room. We were silent for a moment and I felt his eyes on me, but his eyes were the only part of his body that moved. He then cleared his throat, making me look at him.

I could see what girls- or guys - would see in him, appearance wise at least, since I still didn't know the guy really well since he evidently doesn't like me, for whatever reason I'm not sure. Actually, I had a vague idea, but it was a little... well, that's something that I wouldn't tell him.

But like I said, he was a good-looking guy, someone who is clearly pretty popular. His personality was basically the polar opposite of mine- he was loud, out-spoken, humorous, social and generally expresses his feelings. You could tell what he was feeling all the time, but I got the inkling that he was hiding something, but that was irrelevant. I was closed off. I didn't feel the need to tell everyone what I was feeling all the time, they wouldn't really care anyway. Mum and dad clearly didn't care about what the fuck I felt about all the shit they make me do. Have they even asked about how I feel? Hell. No. They just ask for my school reports and ask me if I've practised my clarinet or my cello. No, "how was your day at school, son," or "You tried your best, Daniel. We're so proud of you, Daniel." No, all I got in return for all the effort and time I put into their dreams is "You could have done better," or "Maybe you should take up another instrument."

I think hanging around someone as carefree as London is making me realise that maybe, just maybe, being so cold to everything isn't how I should be. But I had been like that for too long to just change with the click of my fingers. But I was working on it- London was a start.

"So, Daniel," Jeremy coughed, looking at me. "What are your feelings for London?" I blinked at him dumbly. He was so... direct. It was kind of hilarious though, his serious face completely betraying the odd statement he had just uttered.

"That's not something you have to know, Jeremy," I replied, and he narrowed his eyes, leaning forward from his slouched position on the bean bag. "But what if I did like him? What then?" Jeremy gritted his teeth, and it was then that I knew for sure that he liked London, and that he was jealous that I was slowly making my way in.

"I have the upper hand, here," Jeremy said smugly, his face relaxing. "London knows me best. I'm the one who knows him the best. We're best friends, you two are strangers who met a few days ago. There is no way in hell I'm losing him to you."

"I've met people like you before. All talk and no bite," I said, leaning forward, mimicking his positioning. "And trust me- I think I can handle it, Jekyll."

"That's London's name for me. Don't taint it with your filth," he snapped, and I let out a low "ooh, feisty," smirking.

"Look, Jeremy. It's not how long you've known someone for that makes a relationship work. It's about how much one cares for the other and if that is reciprocated. You may like London, but who says he likes you that way?" Jeremy's face darkened, just as London walked back into the room, plopping down next to me this time. Jeremy silently fumed as I laughed softly, causing the ever so oblivious London to give me an odd side-ways look.

One for Easton, zero for Jeremy. But it was pretty harsh to think of this as a game. London was no game- he was someone that had sparked my interest, and there was no way someone who made me feel so giddy and happy was going to slip from my hands, not even to someone like Jeremy.

I had never had competition before, not in my music, my sports or my general popularity. But oh, I was always one for a challenge.



Jaimie lay on my bed reading some teen magazine, her eyes ogling at some tanned body with abs, making me roll my eyes as I slid my hand up the fingerboard of my cello, the light swoosh of my fingers along the sturdy string almost silent as I produced a single, piercing note just perfectly in tune, wiggling my finger to do a little vibrato, not too much, not to little to gently shake the note perfectly. Being under such strenuous practise schedules, I couldn't be anything but perfect.

"Danny, something's funny with you today. You're, like, smiling," Jaimie said, scrunching up her nose as if I had just done something disgusting, and my cello slightly squeaked as I turned my head to her, resting my bow on the horizontal of my metal music stand.

"And you're annoyed that I'm smiling. What a great older sister you are," I said, rolling my eyes a little and she stuck her tongue out at me, closing the magazine as she rocked onto her butt, crossing her legs as she peered at me, curiously as if she were trying to piece together the final clues of a murder mystery. She then snapped her fingers together, wiggling her brow.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" she asked, and I scoffed, deciding that practise was no longer going to go in my favour, slowly packing away my large instrument before placing it gingerly next to my desk before hopping onto my bed next to Jaimie, who continued to prod me for details. She could always read me like a book- the only person who can. She knew me better than either of my parents, because she actually took the time to care. She was the only one that I felt truly comfortable around... well, her and London now, I supposed.

The thought of that dark-haird boy made a smile break onto my face again, and Jaimie cooed, pinching my arm. She was the only one who knew I was... bi-sexual. Mum and dad were anti-gay. Homophobes. Whatever you want to call them. They didn't really know that I looked at guys the same way 'normal people', according to them, looked at girls. Jaimie had figured it out. Like I said, she knew me, inside and out.

"Aw, come on, Danny. Don't hold out on me! I want to know who's making you go all goo-goo," she laughed, and I shoved her slightly, slapping her with her magazine lightly. "I'll follow you around if you don't tell me! You know I will!" She looked at me with a dead seriousness that made me sigh, spilling everything about London, including how I had some competition for his affections against Jeremy.

"Oh, this is just too good. God, I'm putting this on Facebook," she said, scrambling up and I almost made a move to force her not to. She just stuck her tongue out at me again, winking. "But I'm not that cruel. But seriously, Danny. I'm happy for you, and I'm damn grateful to your little crush for making you turn into a somewhat decent human being."

"Oh, stuff your mouth with a sock, will you?" I said tiredly, collapsing back onto my bed.

"Never," Jaimie laughed, before slipping out of my room, leaving me with my thoughts that always seemed to float back to London.