The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Bonus Chapter: A Letter From Ash-

A/N: this was written for the person who it's dedicated to, because they asked me to write them a little short story about Ash and how he was coping. It's not exactly what you asked for, but I hope it's okay! I had a burst of inspiration for this after you messaged me, and I think it turned out alright :) 

    I wrote Logan a letter. It's scribbled, untidy, written in a fluster and I guess I sort of smudged a few words with my tears. It wasn't on purpose, I hoped Logan wouldn't mind.

    It went like this:

    Hey Logan, it's been a while. I've been working myself up to do this for a long time, but it's just so hard, you know? I wanted to talk to someone about how things were going with me. It doesn't feel right to talk to Nate about it all and well, it doesn't feel right to tell anyone but you.

    I know it seems a little stupid, writing you something you can't even read but I need to do it. I feel like I really just need to do this for you. Or for myself, I guess.

    In case you haven't noticed, the flowers that are continuously delivered to your gravestone every week are from me. I don't know what kind of flowers they are, I just know that they're blue. Like the colour of your bedroom. I hope you like them.

    So, I started college. I met someone on the first day, her name is Helen. She's alright. She has this boyfriend called Damon, who reminds me a lot of a friend of mine. He gets high on the weekends and can't breathe without the help of nicotine.

    When he's drunk he gets pretty mouthy, likes to throw his fists around at anyone who gets in his way, even if it's actually him getting in their way. You never got to meet Tyler. That's who Damon reminds me of. Tyler.

    I feel like there's so much to tell you about what's happened, but I can't. Not yet. I'm still adjusting to how things have turned out for me. For the lads, who are still living under Kyle's roof, paying for Kyle's food and shelter. It makes me sick.

    You don't know how grateful I am to you, Lo. I really miss your sorry ass, you know that? I wish you could see me now. I've grown up. I used to think I was pretty mature but I wasn't, not really. I just knew how to bottle my emotions up. That never made me mature.

    But now, I'm so different. Logan I feel like I'm finally alive for once and it hurts me so much to say that when you're not even here with me, but I do. I think it's all thanks to you, anyway. You're the reason I am where I am today and god, I love you.

    I miss you. Logan, I miss you. I say that to myself every night. And I know I haven't been back to see you in a while. Sending flowers every week doesn't make up for my absence. I'm a lousy boyfriend, right? I promise I'll drop by soon.

    You've been checking in on me, at least that's what I like to think. Sometimes I'll just be sitting there in my dorm room, staring down blankly at my coursework and then something will drift by me in the air, and it smells a lot like you.

    Does that sound weird? Ah, I don't know. I like to think it is you. It makes me feel like you haven't really left. Like you're still here. Still here like you should be. I hope you're not in pain, Lo. I hope you don't feel my absence the way I feel yours, god Logan it hurts so much.

    And shit, I'm sorry about Nate. I'm sorry that I still cling to him the way I do. He makes me feel so safe, Lo, I need you to understand that. I feel so god damn guilty when I'm with him, when I tell him I want him but the truth is, I just want to feel loved, again.

    It never feels the same as it did with you. I keep trying to fool myself into thinking it does, but it doesn't. I don't think it ever will. With anyone. Even though I know Nate loves me, I know he wishes I would let go of you and move on, but he doesn't love me like you did.

    That probably won't make much sense. I guess it'll only make sense to me and that's okay. I think I prefer it that way.

    Christmas is coming up. I don't know how to feel about it. Nate wants me to tend a Christmas party with him at his work, but I'm not sure I'm up for it. I think I'd rather spend Christmas Eve with you. Graveyards on an evening aren't the best place to be, so maybe it should be Christmas Day.

    What do you think, Logan? I guess I'll just have to go with my instincts. I think you'd like to spend Christmas Day together. I'll buy one of those little trees that sing carols and I'll place it by your gravestone so we can listen together.

    Jesus. I feel so sad, Lo. Writing to you is supposed to help me deal with how I'm feeling. It's making things worse, I think. I shouldn't have to write you a god damn letter. You should be here, with me, alive, so I can tell you these things in person. Except you're not, and you haven't been for a while now.

    Sometimes I dream about saying goodbye. You're there in your hospital bed, sheets low around your waist and your white hospital gown too bright to look at. I wondered if it would have hurt your eyes the same as your phone screen did that day.

    Anyway, I linger in the doorway waiting for you to open your eyes and when I think that you're not going to I start to turn away, but that's when you do. That's when your eyes open and you smile at me, without any hesitation.

    I sit in the chair by your bed and I hold your hand and you hold mine back and we just sit there for a while. Then it happens. Your heart beat stops and I start to panic but you tell me it's okay and that we should probably say goodbye now.

    So we do, and that's that.

    Sometimes I wonder if saying goodbye would have changed anything at all. It doesn't seem fair that you were able to leave your last words on a paper for me to read, and I couldn't give you a damn thing in your last days except ignorance.

    I don't know, Lo. I don't know much any more. I know that I love you and that I miss you but that's about it. Everything else is just a grey-blue blur of unanswered questions. I need some answers soon, Logan, or I think I might just go crazy.

    I can't tell you what the questions are, because I don't fully know them myself. Though I will tell you that they involve Nate and Tyler and Alex. And you. I suppose my questions about you will never be answered.

    Anyway, my next class starts soon so I'm going to have to wrap this up. I really do miss you Logan and I'll probably be missing you for the rest of my life. I love you, Lo.

                     See you soon,
                                   Ash

   I stared down at the gravestone titled Logan Young and knelt beside it, propping the envelope behind the fresh bouquet of blue flowers. I wedged it against the marble gravestone with a large rock before standing back up.

    “Sleep easy, Logan,” I murmured, slipping my hands into my coat pockets as I breathed against the sadness that was swelling in my chest. I headed back to the entrance of the graveyard, back to where Nate was waiting for me inside his car.

    We drove off, the graveyard growing smaller in the side mirror. Even though I no longer had the cemetery in sight, I still couldn't pull my eyes away.