You Want It All Until You Have It

Till The Death You Bring Upon Me Due Us Part

You want it all until you have it.

As a kid I always dreamt of having a huge house with servants so I never had to work at home. I swore to myself that I would do whatever it takes to get there. I did it.

"You know you're getting to be like your father. Married to the bottle."

I threw my head back. Like I haven't heard that before.

"Gabe, my darling, I am very aware of my drinking habbits."

I looked down at the buzz. The loud music. The dancing people. The drinks. The sweat. The drugs. I couldn't help but to think of the sex despite my efforts to block it out. 

"With all these parties, you'd think you wouldn't be such a hermit."

He spun around and began his agonizingly slow descent down the staircase.

I sighed and gave in. "Whatever could you be doing?" I asked in faux-shock.

"Why I'm going to find Mr. Ross a hot date," he said quickening his pace.

"Gabe!" I called after him. He just continued with that shit-eating grin of his until he got lost in the sea of bodies. I shook my head and returned to watching people like ants frantically scrambling just to get nowhere.

They were all connected somehow. Friends. Friends of friends. Friends of friends of friends. They all came. Uninvited yet expected. It was odd seeing everyone I once knew, whether I despised them or not, in my own home.

It's funny how public a private place can be.

I spotted that glamorous smile I hadn't seen in years. I slipped past the group's of people that had formed with only a few tugs of my suit and calls of my name. 

"Spencer Fucking Smith!" I couldn't hide the grin forming on my face. "It has been too damn long, you old bird. I haven't seen you since..." I trailed off. I haven't seen him since the sickening quarantine wing of that damned hospital. I stormed out of that place, that city, for good. I got away from that plastic diamond glamour of Las Vegas. Spencer's smile didn't falter as he put a hand on my shoulder.

"I heard you made yourself a life in L.A., and there was no way I was going to miss this. So you still up to no good, Ross?"

"Have I ever?" I chuckled, bringing my glass to my lips. I would have forgotten I was carrying it If it weren't for the flood of memories. 

His smile vanished. He looked straight into my eyes, and I dared to look back. Light eyes were know to be less intimidating, but his eyes looked like crashing ocean waves and his pupils looked like a ship hoplessly forgotten in the sea's treacherous waters.

"You fell off of the face of the Earth before I could tell you, I am sorry for your father's passing." I let out a laugh that rooted from deep inside of me.

I raised my glass, "That old bastard is still around." He looked unpleased with me, but it's just like old times right? "Like father like son. Just the son can afford more than beer and cheap wine." Spencer let himself smile again.

"Just don't drink yourself to death, kid," he said before patting my back and joining a crowd.

I began to dive into the crowds. Gabe was right. There is no point in hosting a party without being a part of it. I searched for a group to pull me in. 

"So what's it like?"

"How did you get so much money?"

"You got a wife?"

"How did you get so handsome?" 

A panic rushed over me. I felt like some sort of noose was wrapping itself around my neck. I tried to speak, but the words were stuck in my throat, suffocating me. A hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me away before I mentally died. 

"Thanks," I mumbled, straightening my unwrinkled slacks. Gabe smiled that famous cheesy grin. I raised and eyebrow.

"So this is Z." He motioned to a blonde girl with bright red lipstick. I gave her a two-fingered wave and a fake smile before I turned away. "Ry, come on! At least talk to her!"

"Hey, I'll be nice. I'll let you have a shot with her." She looked at me like I was complete scum. Gabe's mouth hung open, so being the polite person I am, closed it for him and patted his head. I walked away from Gabe and Z, the crowds, the party, everything. I was always the first leave.