Why are you in my head?

30.4K 1.2K 384

Chapter 6

It was nearly a month after the incident at the party, and Quent and Gabe were starting to come to terms with what had happened. In other words, they had decided to try to forget about it totally and pretend it never happened. They were currently trying to avoid each other as much as possible, so Gabe had only really seen Quent a few times since the party. Dev was a little confused by their behaviour, but he just decided not to get involved. However, ever since the party weird things had been happening to Gabe.

It was just little things so far, there was that weird star shaped scar he never remembered getting on his left bicep. Then there was the way that every night he would have an incredible dream, then forget it as soon as he woke up in the morning. Then there was that one time where he needed something from across the table and it just slid across into his hand. He eventually decided it must have been a gust of wind or something, but it was still strange.

However the strangest thing of all was that every morning he woke up, and felt extremely, indescribably happy. Not that he was complaining or anything. Suddenly feeling like everything was just going to go great every morning was overall an extremely pleasant feeling. Before, he had always felt like there was something in his life that was missing, some big secret THING that was going on that nobody had told him about. He'd once asked his mom about it, and she'd just said:

"That feeling like something isn't quite there in your life? Oh honey, everyone gets that. It's just part of being human, being constantly paranoid that you're missing out on something fantastic. You get used to it after a while."

But now, that feeling was totally gone. He felt like his life had been fulfilled. Like he had a new purpose, as if the thing that had been keeping him from just going 'what's the point anyway?' and spontaneously combusting into a puff of smoke, had changed.

This was an extremely scary thought. If his whole purpose in life had seemed to change overnight, then what had it been before? And more Importantly, what was it now? How come he didn't know what it was now? That was what he needed to do. Find out what his purpose was now that it had changed.

Working out when exactly he had started to feel like this was a difficult task. It hadn't been long ago, definitely in the last month. Eventually he decided that it had probably started the day after the party. He had been wondering why he felt so good despite his blinding headache and the situation, but he just put it down to getting laid for the first time.

What he really needed to do now was the thing that he was most afraid of. Talking to Quent.

"Um, hey Quent, can we talk? Can you come with me for coffee or something?" Nononono, Gabe thought. That was all wrong. That sounded like he was asking him on a date or something, way too girly for him.

Gabriel was currently trying to think of ways to casually ask Quent to talk about all the weird stuff that had been happening to him all of a sudden, and whether Quent had been experiencing something similar, or it was just his imagination. He was not looking forward to it. Just as he was thinking this, he walked into his American History class, the only class he had with Quent.

Quent was already in his seat, just behind Gabriel own seat, and the second he looked into his gorgeous green eyes, he felt something click. Not even in a metaphorical sense either, it was like something in his head made an actual clinching noise. Well that was freaky.

He was so concentrated on looking at Quent in fact, that he wasn't watching where he was going, and promptly crashed into the door. That was when something so weird happened to him that it totally overshadowed all the other weird things that had been happening to him lately. He heard a voice in his head. Not even the kind of voice in his head that people normally hear either, this voice seemed unaware of it's presence in Gabriel's head, and had a British accent. How a voice that wasn't even real could have an accent, he didn't know. But it definitely did. The other thing that separated this voice in his head from regular ones, was the fact that it appeared to be laughing at him.

Hahahahaha, he fell over. Into a door! How do people even do that, surely something like that is physically quite difficult? Wow though, his butt looks good in those jeans. Aaaaargh, no, no it doesn't. Think about something else, quick.

Gabriel was getting quite annoyed with the voice in his head. He decided to try to talk to it and tell it to shut up.

Shut up, weird voice in my head! And that last bit was practically sexual harassment! How does a voice in my head even do that?

The voice seemed quite distressed by him replying to it. He was starting to get the impression that the voice was not a voice in his head after all, but someone else's voice that had somehow got into his head. If that was the case, he wanted them out.


Why is there a weird american voice in my head? Am I going insane or something?

I could ask you the same thing, Gabriel replied to the voice.

This isn't your head! This is my head! Get out! Yelled the voice, sounding really quite incredibly distressed.

No, I know that this is my head, and you were in my head first anyway. You get out! Who are you anyway, and why are you in my head?

I'm not in your head. You are in my head! I've always been in this head, why would I suddenly change? I was just minding my own business, in my own head, when you came along and demanded to know why I was in your head!

You weren't minding your own business! For a start, this is my head, and either way I could hear you having weird thoughts about me!

I wasn't having weird thoughts about you, if I was having weird thoughts about anyone it would be... Gabe? what are you doing in my head? It's me, Quent.

Ooooh, mysterious! Well, not for me, but for you guys anyway. This is not a science fiction story, so I won't make it all sciencey, but I will explain stuff later on. For now, you'll just have to wait.


My Heart Belongs To A Football Player (boyxboy)Where stories live. Discover now