The Nature Of The Beast

4: The Birthday

FLOWER'S light knocks find their way to my door, his thick doll lips pressed into a smile as I toss him a suit, the boy undressing in a dark corner and grabbing the neatly wrapped present sat on the bed. I comb back my hair as he talks, bouncing lightly on the bed and questioning my every move.

"Do you think you'll get in?"

"To what? Gatsby's entourage?" He nods in confirmation. "No, but I think you'll have a chance, you look innocent." His blush isn't visible in the dark of the bedroom, body slouched against the chipping brick wall adorned with wood.

I beckon him into the small space, brushing down his hair in a brotherly fashion and straightening his black and crooked collar. With a knock on the door we pause, his face falling before sprinting towards the bed, tucking the present beneath it and attempting to calm himself before letting out a shaky 'come in.'

I loosen at the sight of Moxie, his body swaying the slightest, eyes red and opaque and drug filled. He ignores Flower, heading straight for me and blocking my path with his body leant inside the door frame. "I heard you're going to the party?"

My eyes meet with Flower's, wide and afraid as he shakes his head and draws a finger across his throat. It's only with his frantic waving that I straighten up and get the message, eyes widening slightly as I play it cool, rubbing the back of my hair with my hands. "No, we actually are meeting with someone for dinner, reservations at a real nice place."

"That's the most transparent lie I've ever heard you tell. You're losing your game, Baby." Attempting to walk past him his hands catch at my shirt, dragging me across the tile until we're face to face, the distinctly sweet scent of the pills hanging off his tongue.

"Let go of me you're drunk!"

Even with enough thrashing to bruise his whitened knuckles his grip stays firm against the knit of my shirt, grabbing on with his other fist to calm me down. "We're best friends. We're family. You don't lie to family, Baby."

"And you don't assault them either!" With one last thrash his hand is slammed against the dark oak of the door frame, chest heaving and breath short from the burst of energy it took from me. He doesn't seem effected, he never does when he's high like this, a mix of pills and alcohol keeping him in top condition somehow.

That and the private training with Duke, that probably helps too.

"We have to go or we'll be late." By now I'm tired of his games, still huffing from the assault I pick up the jacket thrown on the floor, forcing myself through his barricade and onto the bed next to a quiet Flower, head downcast in opposition of our catty arguments. "We really don't have the time for this now go crawl back to Daddy."

His fist is colliding with the wall behind us before I can register the move, the breath that'd just been regained slipping from me once again. The force of the collision has cursed the room, the vibration of the wood the only noise that slips between the three of us, our panting breaths intermingling with the panic flooding off of Flower.

My arms find their way around his frail body, pulling him tightly to my chest in protection from Moxie, a new hatred overcoming me as the blood boils, an outburst venomous on the tongue and ready to be lashed out. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Mox?" Voice calm it wavers with frustration, a hint of blood on the palette as my teeth grind against my lips to keep me from taking it any further.

Drawing back his bloody fist he stares at the two of us, a spark in his eye has him backing away, cradling the injured limb to his chest. "I-I..."

The grip held on Flower tightens, the boy's whimpers reigniting the slight flicker inside Moxie, our eyes meeting with the same memory of the same night so many years ago. A flash of his arms cradling me in the night, my tears still young and fresh and innocent against the drying blood crusted to his jacket.