You Want It All Until You Have It

A Real Boy In A Fake City, A Fake Boy In A Real City

I pulled into the concrete driveway in front of the small one story home. I didn't think that villain would decide to settle in picket fence America, but he always seems to surprise me. I straightened my blazer before knocking on the red painted door.

A sleepy looking Gabe opened the door slightly in shock.

"What are you doing here?" I shoved past him into the house. "Ryan!" I didn't listen. I made my way to his bedroom. "Look man, I'm not up for morning sex."

"Gabe, you know that's not what I'm here for." I opened his up his dresser drawers.

"What are you looking for?" I threw clothes onto the bed.

"Put them on." 

"Not until I get an explanation."

"We are going to Vegas." I looked for more clothes in his drawers.

"No." I stopped what I was doing.

"What?" I turned to face him. He shook his head.

"You are not going to Vegas. You would probably kill a man if you do."

"Gabe, please. I need to do this."

"What made you want to do this?"

I sighed and sat down on the bed.

"No matter how many ghosts are there, there are always certain comforts of your home."

"Has the city of angels started to haunt you?"

"Get dressed and pack a suitcase." He raised his hands.

"Okay. Okay. How long are we staying there?" I smiled weakly at him. "You don't know do you?" I shook my head. He laughed and shook his head. "You are no good, Ross."

"Thank you, Gabe."

"You're lucky I love you," he said while digging through his clothes.

"I love you, too."

-

"What is up with you and your old Cadillacs?" Gabe laughed, feeling the air rushing his through his fingers. 

"It's a classic." I petted the the light yellow painted exterior. The road rushed past the car as we drove on. It was almost hypnotizing. 

"So you going to start explaining?"

I hesitated for a while. I knew it was dumb, but it bothered me so much. I rather deal with a million ghosts in Vegas than have to deal with the one ghost in my house.

"He haunts me. I didn't remember anything the morning after, but just walking around the house pieces of memories stitched together. Blurs of people... and him. He was so clear. The ghost of him standing there, watching. The ghost of him walking down the stairs. The ghost of him walking away from me. I don't know why, but he just stuck there. It has bothered me so much. I may never see him again, and I have to deal with the fact that he doesn't even care. Okay, I realize I'm being petty, but there was something about him. His smile was brilliant, Gabe. I swear."

"Holy shit." I glanced over at him.

"What?" I knew it. I knew it was just stupid.

"You totally have a crush on him."

"We are not in middle school, Gabe." I focussed on the road and tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

"Okay, but, Ryan. Really." He giggled. He fucking giggled. "Do you think you would want a relationship with him?" I tilted my head back still focussed on driving.

"I don't want to think so, but I do."

"Maybe you'll run into him again."

"I doubt it, Gabe. I probably scared him away."

"Ryan, it was not as traumatic as you think it was." 

"It has been eating me away for weeks now."

"And it seems so much worse because you have been over thinking." I tilted my head to the side.

"I guess." 

The rest of the drive was a mixture of silence and bits of radio when it was available. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was nice really. For once, I didn't feel like some wax sculpture. I felt truly alive. I breathed. I lived. I felt. Who knew returning to the city of plastic could make someone feel so real?