Second Chances [BxB]

one

Sebastian Steel had made a lot of mistakes in his life.

Some of them were fixable. Most of them weren't.

The first bad decision he made was at the age of fourteen. He had started spending time with a group of older boys who always smelt like marijuana. One day, they had offered him cocaine. Sebastian wished he could say he was peer pressured into doing it - at least that way, the guilt wouldn't feel so heavy - but no, he had taken it with hungry eyes, and greedy hands.

His next mistake was doing it again.

Then ketamine. Then pills. And eventually, heroin.

His biggest mistake was falling in love. Feeling full for the first time in his life. Feeling warm and happy and safe. Alex gave him something no drug ever could. And then, cruelly, snatched it away again.

After Alex's funeral, Sebastian relapsed.

Then there was rehab.

Then boarding school.

He didn't like to think about that part of his life. He had made a lot of mistake there, too. Forgotten faces, blurry memories, a goodbye that never happened.

He had been in rehab twice since leaving school.

Now, at the age of twenty, Sebastian felt like he was nothing but his mistakes. They were built into him, dissolved into the blood that ran through his veins, lingering beneath his skin.

He had tried to start a new life. A quiet one. He worked for his Father's construction company, shared a flat with his best friend, drank too much coffee, and put all his energy into staying sober. For most people, it wouldn't have been enough. A life without purpose, without noise, without joy, without love. But it was more than enough for Sebastian. It was plenty.

Sometimes, the guilt became too heavy. Too unbearable. Too agonising. He would break down, and his roommate would find him curled up on the floor, shaking and struggling to breathe. Because even though Sebastian had a pathetically small life, it was still a life, and that was more than he deserved.

Because as the years passed, Alex slowly became a memory, and that memory had started to blur around the edges. Sebastian was forgetting Alex; letting him go, and watching him slip into darkness. Sometimes, Sebastian would try and recall the colour of Alex's eyes, or the sound of his voice, or the way his clothes smelt. But there was nothing there. No matter how hard he tried, Sebastian could no longer conjure vivid memories like he once could. They were dull, and foggy, and often indistinguishable with dreams.

Now, Sebastian could go days without thinking about Alex.

That was when the guilt came. Heavy and crushing and relentless. Alex had died four years ago, and already, Sebastian had let him slip out of his grip. Who would Alex be to him in ten years? Nothing but a name? A gravestone?

And then there was Felix. Still bright and vivid. Sebastian didn't feel so hollow when he thought about Felix. The guilt was there, but it was bearable. Because Felix was still alive, and - Sebastian hoped - happy.

Sebastian Steel had made a lot of mistakes in his life. Sometimes, he thought that Alex and Felix were mistakes, too. And sometime, he thought the opposite; maybe they were the only things he had ever done right.

There was a knock on his bedroom door, and a moment later, Sebastian's roommate, Harvey, walked in. They had met at work, at the noisy construction site, where the sound of drills drowned out the sound of memories. Harvey was tall and muscular with dark brown skin and hair twisted into long braids, falling past his shoulders. He was all warmth and sweetness and sunlight. He was too good for Sebastian.