Album of Injury

Snapshots

Woouh! Ouh... Can't wait for karaoke tonight.

Demetrius walks into the locker rooms, ready to hit the showers...well, almost ready. He plops down on the benches to chill for a bit, panting slightly. Eugh, he feels disgusting. Hot. His face is all oily. His armpits will stick to his chest if he puts his arms down. Heat radiates from him, and the shitty ventilation makes it all worse. It's hot. Hot, hot, hot. Sticky and searing like a summer afternoon. This whole locker room REEKS of sweat and vile people-fluid. Did the only ceiling fan in here have to break?

It's all just more incentive to shower. He peels his thighs off the bench, the ache in his arms already starting to set in. Just as he gets up——ring ring ring! Oh, a phone. Someone'll get it.

He walks to the end of the row, the repeating dark green wall of lockers passing by...ring ring ring! Hm? It's taking a bit longer.

He gets to his locker and spins his combination into his lock. Guess what. Ring ring ring! It should've stopped by now. Oh, well. Pass 0 thrice...

Ring ring ring!

Erm. Land on 23.

Ring ring ring!

Can someone get that? Okay, now pass 0 twice...

Ring ring ring!!

...uh, land on 11.

RING RING RING!!!

Get to 24!!

RING RING RING!!! RING RING RING!!!

Damn!! Okay, okay! Al-right!!

Clicking his tongue, Demetrius skedaddles over to the sound and sees an unattended phone on the benches. He quickly runs over and grabs it. It's got a basic black cover. "Mami" is calling. Oh, it's Viktor's! Probably!

"Uh...Von? VON!!!" He calls out to the lockers.

No one responds. Oh, obviously. He snatches the phone and looks around.

"Awh, come on——VON KAIIISEEEEEEER!!!"

Nada.

He curses as the ringtone urges him on. Where...oh! The back! Viktor smokes, right? If he's not in the gym, and not in the lockers, he's back there taking a smoke! Despite himself and his sweat-coated body, Demetrius trots over to the back door.

"VOOOOOOON!! Your——" The phone abruptly cuts, leaving him in silence. "——uh, phone..."

The silence in his head quickly fills with the sounds of the Big Apple. Cars honking, people chatting, and...anonymous susurrus. Probably from the forever buzz of most packed cities and maybe from the sprinkling sky. It's been a bit wet as of late. Some rain had stopped just as he'd finished his sesh. Thank the man upstairs that he didn't need to drive in the downpour.

The back alley's empty. Well, not empty like an empty box; Empty like an empty house. Unintelligible graffiti smears on the walls. The ground is littered with mushy debris and substance. Trash surrounds the trash bin and dumpster.

All of this for what? Ugh. The malaise is killing him. It feels like he's covered in oil. But...it's so refreshingly cool out here. Some wind grazes his face, and it's like a God-given gift. Way colder than inside! He's oughta take a shower soon, but nature's cooling touch is fine for now.

Habitually filtering out the smell of garbage, Demetrius trudges over to the opposite brick wall, spins around, and leans his back on it. Ouh, it's cold too. He heaves a sigh as the heat flows out of him and the cold flows in. His feet slip forward a bit because of the wet ground, but it's not a problem. Finally, he can breathe, really breathe in some air that's not tainted with a stranger's foul ball sweat. He tilts his head upwards and admires what's up above. The sky is a solid grey, swirling with slightly darker clouds. Demetrius never really liked this kinda weather. It made him feel lazy. But at least it doesn't hurt to look at, unlike the neon blue of sunny summer days. It's like lying in bed. It's like floating in a pool with a case of kool-aid by your side. It's like heaven, as tiny drops of rain start to fall on his face.