Fluorescent lights bled on the young man's blonde waves. Showcasing the golden silk with small glints and glitters. Despite making his hair look like glass love incarnated, it pushed a deadly rhythm over his beautiful face.
Dusted in dirt, grime, and sludge from his workplace, the only clean area was his face. Even though microscopic tablets of dark colors stain his cheeks from him rubbing his eyes all day. The clean bulbs sprinted too far ahead to keep up. His cheeks hollowed out under the light, straight lashes protruding onto his skin with a funny shadow. Cupid bows lips pursed in boredom. They were soft and pink in his own apartment. In the hallway of Union Street Apt., he looked like he'd skipped every meal since eighteen. His eyes bulged and his nose was red from the snow.
Pieces of ice in his strands melt under the luster. His bottom lip ached and his legs felt like they'd wrestled jello. The jeans were corroded, holed and covered in as much clay as his chest. It was painful to breathe and walk. Had he gone too hard again? Even the joints at his wrist creaked when he pressed the tiny button. His father says success is being healthy. But his father also stuffed money under mattresses. Opinion fell dead then.
The black and blue helmet under Andrei's arm had no color under the graze of winter. Frozen like ice in his grasp, he couldn't believe he wore it the thirty minutes it took to get back to this building. He should get a better studio; one that's closer.
The one he has now is charming, though. He's had it for two or three or maybe more years. Why give it away so soon? His leg tapped rhythmically. A simple and elegant sound made by the fake wooden floors and his steel-toe boots. His head tilted to the side slowly, eyes shut in a soothed way. He just wanted to get upstairs, take a shower, wash his hair, and go to sleep watching some shit. Maybe a new commentary video. Or maybe the puppeteers who are constantly talking about autism.
'Elevator is slow as fuck. Jesus Christ," he thought quietly. Tap, tap, tap.
Another sign left his lips the second the doors opened. He stepped in the metal box leisurely. The soreness disappeared when his foot fell to the ground. His chest heaved a bit at the forceful stomp and he almost clicked the close doors button.
Almost.
Instead, he glanced up once and saw him. Running forward with a limp and a puffer jacket. The sound of the pants was loud enough to wake up a graveyard.
Andrei hummed and placed a bruised arm over the pocket doors before they could shut. A small pound followed the tiny boy grunting forward. Andrei stared at the ground below himself instead of watching. Too tired, too lazy, too hungry. His body twitched at the scent following behind the boy. The other man who came in. It's like vanilla or petrichor. Either way, it was the type of thing to make Andrei flinch.
The blonde stepped back, falling into the wall with a gentle thud and the other rushed to the buttons.
He clicked one and turned back. "Uhm....hi....what floor?"
"Seven." Andrei bit his lip. The boy's voice was like candy. Salty and sour on his tongue. Pure sugar and dopamine with the sweetness.
"Oh! Hihi..." A giggle. "I live...I live on that floor too. Are you....81B?"
"Mhm."
"Oh! Kihihihi....I'm 82B."
Silence put the stupid small talk to rest. Nothing but a hefty groan and a mechanical wiring were left in the elevator. Andrei relaxed against the wall. His head felt heavy, moments away from slipping off of his neck and dropping to the deepest pits. His stomach was thick and full. Another huff escaped him. Interactions were so menial and annoying, he wondered why he even opened his mouth. Maybe because it was polite. Maybe because the aroma of cheap cologne, Dior, and vanilla blinded his senses to a foul point.
"Did...you go-go to that party on Unio-union street?" Despite Andrei wanting to drop onto his bed and lay comfortably until his back broke, he had to click the pause button on the VHS.
What?
His head corked to the side. It was cold and icy but he finally turned to look over and god forbid.
Pink hair. Flowing like water with constant movement from the small boy. He really couldn't be over five feet. His neck craned up to meet Andrei's blue eyes. Andrei never noticed it, somehow, but the boy has dark, purple-ish eyes that sparkled in chemical lighting. His lips were round and fat. Implants? What do they call it? Plumper? Andrei didn't know. But one thing was for sure.
The boy was so gorgeous. It was the type of beauty that made Andrei want to swallow all of that miracle water up.
"Eh?" he whispered. The question was almost forgotten in his overwhelmed head. The tiny boy had shimmering teeth and lashes that bat to the sound of his own internal music. His body was structured the way Andrei carved. He even stood shakily due to that brace around his ankle. Andrei watched him jerk with mild amusement. He truly was an art piece. Down to the way he spoke. His voice was the type to be played on repeat for hours. Lyrical and melodic.
"That...party...the one at Sigma Kappa...were you there?" He toyed with his fingers. Picked at neat nails. Andrei questioned how they stayed so clean despite the fact that he's pulling and tugging the skin clean off. That wasn't the only thing the blonde quizzed. A thick, strawberry blonde brow cocked up. "What the fuck-what is that?"
"Uhm....a party?"
"'Sigma Kappa,' what is that?" He gestured with air quotes. He is not nearly American enough to understand that.
The pink-haired let out a treasured giggle. It sounded real, not polite or fake, just real. "The frat..one of the frat houses at Aurelian Cave...the uni." He inhaled softly. "You...you're one of them? Ri-right? A fr-frat boy...?"
Andrei stared blankly. "Frat boys? Me?" He pointed at himself. The smaller boy bat his dark lashes, hands at his belt being held together by flowers and Aphrodite. He chuckled with a small nod. Andrei huffed. "God, no. I'm too nerdy for that. They're too dumb."
Should he have said dumb? Whatever he said made the other vibrate with tiny giggles. He pointed at Andrei, finger trembling. "You're nee-nerdy?" He put a hand over his mouth. "S-sorry, mr...I-you..you look really good." The voice got higher, softer. Bubbly.
"Don't apologize. You look good too." Andrei hummed without much thought. His eyes were on the walls now, hands gripping the pole behind him. He squeezed leisurely and glanced down at himself. "Shit, sorry. I forgot to put my shirt back on."
"Oh! Hihi, sorry! I just came from work...since...you..what..what kind of job do you have that you take your shirt off? Are you like a performer?" The way he said performer felt poisonous, like he was insinuating something different.
"Erm, no. I'm an artist."
The pink haired boy's eyes dilated. "Oh! Is that why you are always drawing me...when I dance for you?"
What.