GHOST (BXB)

Ghost

Part 1
Isaiah Rodriguez
—Present—

Ghosting is probably a part of gay culture. I strictly believe that you can't really call yourself gay if you haven't been ghosted. I mean, every gay on Twitter is raving about it.

What the fuck is ghosting? Some of you might ask. Well, it's something non-committed cowards do. When they want a fucking taste of something and then when they can't take it, they'll pack their bags and leave, to never talk to you again for the rest of your lives, disregarding the fact that you've been best buddies since middle school. But fuck Jonah, right? Fuck him for making my high school life miserable. Fuck him for fucking me and leaving the next fucking day.

Oh shit, I got sidetracked.

Well, there you go, folks, my high school life in a nutshell.

I don't usually blab around this much about him, trust me, I've moved on, it's been almost a decade, I have facial hair now.

But if it haven't been for the fact that he's looking at me now, a solid ten years after we last spoke to each other, I wouldn't be ranting this much.

"You're spacing out," he clears his throat, wagging his hands in front of me like I haven't already been looking at him for the past few minutes.

"I know that,"

"You're voice got deeper,"

"Well considering that the last time you heard my voice was when I was moaning, I'd say you have a pretty shitty reference." I didn't mean to say that out loud, but my mouth has a funny way of getting myself into awkward situations.

He looks shocked that I referenced That Night, scared, even. He quickly recovers though, clearing his throat and all that mature stuff.

"Err... that's actually what I came to talk about." he scratches the back of his head, almost out-of-character-ly-ish (?). He's always been a very confident person, able to get out of sticky situations with his charms.

"Me moaning?" ugh, fuck me. I'm really trying to be cold and all but my mouth is taking it too seriously and extreme . "I'm sorry, yeah, about that..."

"I just- I just think that it's been ten years and, I don't know, I kinda wanna reconnect..? Jesus, I don't know. I don't know what I want."

Hopefully me.

I didn't say that.

Jesus Christ. Honestly, Truly, Deeply, I fucking thought I've moved on. Apparently I haven't. Maybe all it really takes for me to relapse to whatever mess high school was, was seeing him again, my first love, my best friend. And 17 year old me couldn't wait to fuck it up, I wasn't satisfied with us being friends, no. I wasn't satisfied with the friendly I love you's we exchanged, no, I wanted more. I just had to fuck it up, huh?

Anyways, back to whatever's happening at the moment.

Jonah has his grip on the back of my head (very familiar) as he turns my face to his direction, apparently I spaced out again. "Isaiah, talk to me please,"

I wanna say 'we have nothing to talk about' or anything dramatic like that, just to see the look of hope in his eyes disappear. But I don't have the heart to hurt him like that, despite our differences in the past.

"We have something to talk about." I opt for that instead of the proposed dramatic line, in hopes of it sounding positive (since I just replaced 'nothing' with 'something') but instead it just sounded weird.

"Anyways," he kind of sighs, I must be tiring, I guess. "How are you. H-how are things, how you been?" he asks, sounding like me whenever my friends comfort me during depressive episodes and I feel like I already ranted too much and to compensate for that I ask them how things are (do self deprecating humor work here or is it just funny on Tumblr and Twitter?).