The day started out as perfectly as Neko ever wanted: it was sunny but crisp, as if the weather could turn its dial to ‘fall’ any minute. They could wear their favorite long, red jacket out later, and they especially felt like it was going to be an incredible fucking marvelous day. Even the astrology app that they loved to hate assured them that yes, Aquarius today is yours! They had the apartment to their lonesome, not that Run was much bother, but it was nice to slouch around in underwear, eating cereal from a coffee cup, making playlists.
Mm, time to share this one with Run, Neko thought as they looked through the songs one last time. Making a playlist for someone the first time was a dice roll, for sure, but they were inspired by listening to Run describe his first run out of prison. With some prodding of course, the man was not a talker, though he really didn’t seem all that shy. The impression his description left on Neko translated to an hour-long variety of electronic, classical, and soundtrack pieces that they thought had nice flow and a little bit of color and discordance. “It was a little overwhelming,” Run had shared, and seemed surprised when he did, as if he hadn’t realized it at the time.
Neko titled the playlist NUDE, XXX, PRIVATE DANCERS, SEX SHOP INSIDE, being very familiar with that particular stretch of Declan Avenue, and dropped it into a text message from their phone.
Heyo! Made you something!
“I’m being a bit much,” they murmured. “So what though, people need to be pushed a little sometimes, anyway. How else would anyone ever make friends if we just sat here? Cool, I am totally talking to myself. I need to get a fucking cat or something. Yes. Still talking to myself.”
Done with playlists, Neko showered, moisturized, plucked a couple of annoying hairs here and there, and then wrestled their way into a vintage denim jumpsuit that flared wide at the bottom and made them feel very disco. “Very Donna,” they said into the mirror as they smudged a little black eyeliner and mascara on and decided to let their wavy hair just dry however it felt like it, which would certainly be messy no matter what. “No, very Neko. Okay, time to fucking to go.”
Dressed and armed with a bottle of highly caffeinated iced tea, Neko set out for the day, first stop Billie. They were pre-recording their five year pornniversary video for the site, which meant they had been dating for almost four years. Neko was surprised when Billie suggested it. Honestly, Neko was half waiting for a break up conversation these days, and probably deserved it as bad as they had been about making time to hang out or go out. But today was a good day, not a break up day, and who would ask some to fuck them on video if they were about to break up? Neko sent Billie a new playlist called Billie’s Pink Room and started humming the chorus to something poppy and French that they’d put in towards the end.
For you, BB <3 <3 <3
See you soon!
When their phone vibrated a moment later they expected it to be Billie, but it was Run.
Thank you for the playlist.
Interesting title…
I hope you like it, NBD if you don’t…
I’m sure I will, I’ll listen to it on my run later.
Awesome!
I probably won’t be home tonight btw.
It’s my gf and I’s anniversary so the place is yours!
<excitedNeko.jpg>
That’s great. Have a nice night.
Grabbing takeout and I’ll be at my moms’.
Goldfish can have the place.
<boringRun.jpg>
Want your horoscope for the day? It’ll be trash, but hey.
What’s your sign, I’ll send it.
Leo, I think.
Today is a great day to work on relationships. The universe is in your corners.
Wow, that’s pretty bad.
Who knows, maybe it’ll be right.
Wait, do you believe in astrology stuff??
Nope.
Neko laughed and turned up their headphones. For their own purposes they decided on a disco and funk playlist to keep carrying the mood forward.
As sun-drenched and lovely as the afternoon was, Neko had even higher hopes for the evening.
Normally, Billie was an enthusiastic partner on camera and off, and the reason she went by Billie Bubbles was entirely about her personality. Today though, it was clear that she was not only not in the mood but annoyed, increasingly so every time Neko checked in to see if what they were doing was okay; did this feel good? Or was that okay?
“Hey, this isn’t live, you don’t have to force yourself,” Neko finally said, sliding to the edge of the bed, putting some space between them. “Not that I’d want you to force yourself then, either,” they said quickly, reaching for Billie and hesitating.
“I’m not, I’m fine,” Billie said, brown cheeks flushed from exertion. Her big, loopy pink curls stuck to her forehead and neck and the gauzy pink ruffles and lace that did nothing to conceal and everything to accentuate clung to sweat slick skin. “Let’s just get back to it.”
“No, I don’t think we should. Come on, can we talk about what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” Neko walked over to the computer and stopped the recording. They’d delete it later–no one wanted to see this sad shit, not when they didn’t even want to be participating.
For a somewhat awkward length of time Billie stared past Neko at the wall behind them. She fidgeted, picking at her fingernails, scratching behind her ear, and finally said, “I guess the truth is that I don’t really want to do this anymore.”
“Okay, when you say this you mean…?” Neko tensed, then tried to soften their shoulders and face. I do not want to have this conversation right now, they thought, anticipating what Billie might say next.
“This, you know. This.” Billie gestured widely around the room not stopping anywhere in particular. The room itself was painted a color called Blushing Petal, which was only a few shades lighter than her hair. It was deliberate–this really was her room, anyone she recorded with was really just a guest, including Neko, who held the lease.
“The paint job? The room? Having sex on camera? Having sex on camera with me? Or something else?” They failed to keep the edge out of their tone and Billie flinched.
“Come on, you can’t tell me this is a surprise,” Billie protested, as she rose quickly from the bed, also pink, of course, and taking the–you guessed it–pink robe from the back of the door and sliding into it. Billie was plump, brief in height, and apple-cheeked. She was usually smiling, but at this moment she looked one sharp word away from tears.
‘Billie, please. Just… just tell me what you mean. Don’t put it on me to make this decision for both of us.” Neko collapsed into the velvet arm chair positioned by the closet.
“That’s not fair, Neko. I wasn’t asking you to do that,” Billie said in a low tone, eyes on the floor.
Neko shrugged and looked away, too. Often, Neko did have to make the final call on most of their joint decisions, and if they were being dumped they weren’t going to take over and just handle it.
“Fine. The answer is all of the above. I want to quit and also I want to break up. But I don’t want to move out, so I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Billie shifted her eyes to her hands where she continued to worry at her nails. Two years prior Billie had officially moved into the apartment full time, taking the second, larger bedroom over as her own, outfitting the kitchen with actual food and quickly making the entire place her home.
In a rare moment, Neko didn’t have a response. They just felt a little tired. I could have stayed home today, they thought, and flinched, ashamed to feel this indifferent, but not want to make the conversation easier on Billie.
“So you don’t even want to try to talk to me, just going right to total destruction?” they asked, without much heat, although it was only a few moments until they would inevitably be crying. It would be great if they could leave the room first, though.
“Please, I don’t want to fight, you know I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry.” Then, Billie did start crying and Neko was ashamed again. Acting like they wanted to fight for this relationship was unfair when it wasn’t true.
“No, I don’t want to fight either, or make you fight with me. I guess this has been coming for a while and I also didn’t want to say anything. But why did you…” Neko suddenly wasn’t sure if they needed to ask.
“Why did I want to do this today?” Billie finished for them. When Neko gave a curt nod she continued, “You’re honestly great. You’re very kind and comfortable and we’ve been together a long time, and I thought maybe this would, I don’t know, remind me or even both of us how much we enjoyed each other. But it feels…”
“Past tense,” Neko said.
“Yes,” Billie whispered. “I’m so sorry, Neko. I really am.You’re my best friend and this really sucks. I didn’t want to lose you all the way.”
Neko crossed the short distance between them and pulled Billie into their arms very gently. “You won’t lose me all the way. But uh, I think I’m going to need a little space. And I know we need to sort this apartment and everything else out.”
“We don’t have to do that today do we?” Billie looked up through a mess of curls, eyes framed by thick, damp mascara, eyeliner beginning to ghost around her eyes. Suddenly Neko felt like their bones weighed too much to move around.
“Yeah, I won’t ask you to leave, this is your place, really, But please please let’s talk later. I’ll go now.”
“I’m sorry, Neko, please believe me.”
“Nothing to be sorry for love,” They said, forcing a smile. Neko opened the door without fumbling but shut the door too hard behind them. Unintentional or not, they knew that sort of thing bothered Billie and had to deliberately keep going down the hallway of the apartment instead of turning back to apologize. Neko would be lying if they tried to say they weren’t sad, that their feelings weren’t hurt. Not that Billie had leveled any accusations, but it felt like Neko had failed her on some level and all they wanted was to get as far away from her, the apartment, the whole day as possible.
They retrieved their long red trench coat and assortment of bags (duffel, backpack, tote) from the jewel blue couch in the living room and left.
Fuck. Fucking fuck. Run leaned into the bus window carefully, resting his swollen cheek against the cold glass and closing his unswollen eye.
“Damn, your face is all messed up!” Impressively wrinkled and bright eyed, the man in the seat across from Run leaned in close to check out his injuries. “You must have gotten your ass kicked pretty good, kid.”
“Mm,” Run agreed. He closed his eye again, hoping that was hint enough.
Instead, the curious man moved in closer and asked, “How’s the other guy look?”
“Fine,” Run sighed, wondering why everyone was pushing him to talk so much when his mouth was clearly as fucked up as the rest of his face.
By the time he made it home he couldn’t be more grateful that Neko would be out all night. His moms expressed their concern by hovering, offering ice packs, ibuprofen, a milkshake. They insisted he should stay the night but he’d taken a disposable mask from the kitchen junk drawer, an old hat of Dev’s and walked out the back door without telling them he was leaving.
He felt like his brain was skipping like a record. Noah. Fuck. He couldn’t process seeing him, let alone everything that had followed, and he sure couldn’t even feel angry about it. He felt a deeper bruise underneath the physical ones–it was certainly his fault that Noah had kicked his ass. Run doubted he was much for fighting, there was no skill in the blows that landed, just a sort of furious desperation. And he’d been such a soft, sweet boy when they dated. Unusually kind, he’d thought back then. And if he wasn’t anymore, wasn’t that likely to be on Run, too?
Right then all Run wanted was to sit in the dark of his bedroom and find his cold, stable center again. Everything could sink back below the surface and he would find a way not to put himself in Noah’s way again. He wondered if Noah still thought of him as his first love and, miserable with guilt, he threw up in the kitchen sink.
Neko cried on the bus the whole way home, down the hallway, pausing to lean against the wall once and then shuddering at having voluntarily come so close to resting their face on that untrustworthy surface. At least they would be alone and could shed everything at the door and take a shower and cry some more and put on sweats and then cry more, or just never stop, honestly.
Neko flung the apartment door open, only to be greeted by Run’s bruised and extremely surprised face.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Neko blurted out.
“I ran into an old friend. We’re not friends anymore.” Run’s words were slow and slurred.
“So much for fucking astrology,” Neko complained and dropped their bags.
Wooooof this chapter was a bear the first, second, and third time through and I’m not sure I’m happy with it now. Added 400 words 3/9/22