The Butterfly Effect

𝖝𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎 | 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔦𝔰: 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢 𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔱-𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔦𝔰

August 30th 2020

11:34 P.M

The Butterfly Effect HQ, Los Angeles, California

"Shh, you'll wake up my roommates," Javier's laughter bubbled up, escaping his lips in a cascade of nervous joy. He carelessly bumped into the dresser, his heart pounding with the thrill of anticipation as he stumbled onto the bed.

"I don't care," the man husked, gripping Javier's neck to pull him closer. Matt's lips trailed up Javier's neck, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake, as if each kiss held the promise of both escape and entanglement. A sharp tang of tequila hung thick in the air, seeping out of his pores and burning Javier's nostrils with every breath as he closed his eyes and purred beneath the man's touch.

This was the routine for Javier for the last three weeks. Every other night he'd find himself in whatever club Los Angeles had to offer. There he'd get unlimited drinks, due to his celebrity status, and go on the prowl for whatever lucky man that caught his eye.

But it wasn't just any sleazy man he looked upon. They had criteria to meet—green eyes, floppy brown hair, and standing a little over six feet tall.

He knew it wasn't healthy and he certainly knew it would all come crashing down eventually but he was so tired of getting hurt.

Javier loved love. He loved the high of it. The fire and intensity that it burned with.

To love is to ache. You couldn't have love without pain. And like Van Gogh said, the more you love, the more you suffer.

But Javier wasn't willing to suffer. And the closest he could get to love without the repercussions was lust.

Lust was fun. Lust was easy. Lust was safe.

And most of all, lust was painless. It could never break his heart. He could be as selfish as he wanted. He could be as reckless as he dared.

Nothing mattered except for this distraction. Because distractions were temporary. And this would be all over soon, just like the others.

But for now, his entertainment for the night was Matt.

"Jay?" they heard from down the hall.

Javier's stomach flipped inside out as the steps grew nearer. "Shit. You have to go."

"The hell? Are these guys fricking Nazis? Why are you so scared of them?" Matt asked, but Javier already had him by the arm and was leading him to the window.

"Unless you want to be questioned for the next hour, you should probably get out of here," Javier said urgently.

Matt quickly clambered out of the window, barely making a sound as dropped down onto the trampoline. Javier watched anxiously from the window until Matt had safely cleared the area before closing it and turning to face whoever was coming down the hall.

Zaire peeked his head around the corner, gazing suspiciously at Javier. "You okay?"

"Yep, I'm fine," Javier replied with a forced smile. "Just coming back from Chick-fil-A."

"Right, sure," said Zaire skeptically. "I guess that explains this then?" he picked up the motorcycle helmet.

"So, that is..."

"And why I just saw this on the ring camera." He held up his phone, displaying a video of Matt jumping out the window. "If you're gonna lie at least make it a good one. Chick-fil-A is closed on Sundays."