"I could take you to see the new Suicide Squad movie," Niall offers, about ready to take out his phone to look up movie times.
"You shouldn't," Calvin replies.
"I heard that most first dates end well when one takes the other out to a movie," Niall says.
"They shouldn't," Calvin says.
"I love you, Calvin," Niall says quietly.
"You shouldn't, Niall," Calvin says, equally as quiet.
He saw him in walking alongside the beach sometimes. Seeing them wearing a snapback and graphic tee shirt. Then he'd see that they had blond hair instead of dark brown, they wore shorts instead of skinny jeans, and he realized that isn't who he had been with one time long ago.
He saw him in the way that people would talk and argue. How they would use sarcasm and certain words to display their point. However, they never were him and they never would be him. The person with the same behavioral antics and choice of clothing and certain unpopular opinions. They wouldn't ever be close to displaying an exact depiction of Calvin.
He tried, he really did try, to keep him close. Bring him back. Take him out of the fucking house. After awhile, he realized that he should have stopped trying, and that's what he did.
Why did he think that was a good idea?
××
For the longest time, two years, Niall lived next door from Calvin in a busy neighborhood in California. Moving here from the UK years prior to come to this state wasn't exactly his plan for the future, but he ended up in Newport Beach in California living next door to a beautiful boy. The only problem is, Calvin didn't know his name or who he was at all. They only saw each other if they happens to visit the same shop that day alongside the beach, which happened quite commonly, since the small island they live on was closely sectioned together and didn't give a lot of options to the people living there.
It wasn't common for people to drive around in this area, unless they lived on the island sectioned off just across the line of shops. Small boats would be constantly making rounds from one pier across the section of water, taking the people who lived there along with their cars if need be, then the family would drive off. And really, everyone had a car in Newport Beach, specifically the Balboa area, but they'd hardly use there expensive car unless they wanted to go to a popular store or mall that wasn't avaliable in their area. Such as Adidas and Gucci. They had knockoff brands for that kind of shopping here. Usually Niall's car just took up the limited amount of space parked in front of his small two bedroom house, he'd use it once every other week and pray that no one would have taken his spot when he came back.
Other than the loud neighbors who constantly had parties every night and drank tequila until they hit the floor, the constant busy traffic between slim streets, and the fucking drought, Niall liked it in California.
It's not like he didn't have friends, because really, he did. Well, not friends, exactly. Rather friend. The only time they ever hung out was when they spotted each other on the beach or they conversed when one of them was walking down the pavement, passing by the other's house. Roman, that's his name, who claims to Niall that he came to California for a 'mysterious' reason when Niall knows that he wanted an excuse to come live walking distance from the ocean.
Everyone was always doing something whether it be walking down the busy streets to go sit by the shore or going shopping to make dinner for their family. With the absence of a family, relationship, and lack of close friendships with people around him, Niall stuck to just ordering food and going for a ten minute walk to pick it up. He would sometimes go as far as inviting Roman over, but that itself was rare.
What wasn't rare, though, is his visit to the boy next door, offering to take him out somewhere or invite him over. Calvin would usually respond with, I don't even know you, so, no. Then he'd proceed to shut the door and not bother to make any more conversation with Niall other than that.
Call him creepy, because quite frankly, he was used to the verbal abuse from his friend telling him how pointless it is talk to the cute neighbor next door.
Just because he's fucking attractive, doesn't mean you have the right to stalk him.
What? I'm not stalking him, dumbass.
Then he'd roll his eyes and walk away from Roman's presence, only to walk right back because he didn't have anywhere else to go.
As of right now, he just got back home from picking up his lunch. It's in a plastic container that was then placed in a plastic bag, just cheap white pieces of thing plastic that luckily still held food in it. Unlike the paper bag that a man carried outside and started shouting when his tacos fell through the bottom of the bag and the pico de gallo got onto his pants. Basically, he got a refund because his bag was a 'bad' one. The man walked back out the door, his fifteen dollars and fifty cents in his pockets and an annoyed look on his face. Niall wouldn't be surprised if the guy went straight home and started complaining to his girlfriend of two weeks whom he met at the beach about the horrible, absolutely execrable, quality of the small restaurant. But really, who could blame a bag? Oh yeah, that guy.
Niall vowed never be one of those guys. He's already a step above those kinds of people by not being rude (partially rude, but that's beside the point) to Roman and trying to get the guy next door to take on foot outside the house. Well, he does go outside, although he is always alone and he drives his car to somewhere a bit outside Balboa only to come back two hours later.
Roman says he's a drug dealer, but Niall has a hard time believing that.
"Medical marijuana, I'm telling you man, at least give me that. Here, if he really is a drug dealer you have to drive me outside of town whenever I want."
Niall didn't accept the bet. Even though he always had known he would have won it, anyway. He just lets Roman tell him how incredibly stupid he is for not obviously seeing how Calvin is in fact a drug dealer.
But back onto the topic of food at three in the afternoon. Niall sets down the plastic bag onto the small table he has beside the window at the front of the house. The drops his house keys next to the food as well, and not exactly caring that his front door is still wide open for almost anyone to walk inside. However, he's kept his door open from early in the morning to late at night and all people do is stop by the front porch and say hi to him.
They'd like to think they knew Niall, which they lowkey did since they've all lived relatively close to each other for years, but Niall knew very well that he only knows Roman, Calvin, and the couple next door. Sometimes they would go as far as inviting him to parties, to which Niall would reply saying that he's under twenty one and they'd awkwardly leave with a forced smile.
Really, he was probably over the average height than the short Mexicans and white boys here, and his voice really threw people off as well. Maybe that's why people thought he was twenty eight and went out to parties and got drunk and played drinking games every Friday night when that really wasn't the case at all. He stayed timid and watched Netflix while ignoring the groups who drank on their balconies and loudly tell some skank to shut up about not being twenty one, you don't want to get arrested, do you now? All while laughing.
They had nothing to worry about because everyone around them couldn't care less about what you're drinking, how old you are, or who you're fucking. Just don't fuck with them and things will movie slowly.
But that's just what Niall picked up. If he listened to everything these people said, he might as well go out and drink with them along the pavement with his arm thrown around the first cute person he happened to look at. That's what everyone else seemed to do.
"I'm pretty sure it's pronounced Nuh-tella," Roman says while walking inside Niall's house, "Am I wrong or right?" He looks at Niall and closes the door. Niall was just about to start eating when his friend decided to randomly ask a stupid question and, unsuprsingly to him, waltz into his house.
"I think it's pronounced new-tella," Niall says. He proceeds to take out his container of food and the few napkins that the restaurant provided for him. Roman sighs, sitting at the table. "But it's made out of hazelnuts."
"Ohh, hazelnuts," Niall says and looks at Roman, "Hazelnoot."
Roman laughs, shaking his head. "See? So Nuh-tella makes much more sense."
"Why are you asking me this, anyway?" Niall questions. He still hasn't taken his first bite of food from his late lunch. "Some bitch from the store decided to argue with me about it. I need proof that I'm right."
"And who was this so-called bitch?" Niall asks, knowing that Roman knew so much more people here than he did and whom he ever will. It would be surprising if Roman doesn't know who it was who thinks it's pronounced New-tella instead of with the Nuh at the beginning. "Some guy with stupid messy hair and an ugly red snapback on. No wonder he was wearing black skinny jeans in a hundred degree weather, he thinks it's pronounced New-tella instead of Nuh-tella."
"First off, it is pronounced New-tella. It's on the Nutella website. And I think you're talking about the guy who lives next door."
Roman almost gasps. "The boy you stalk? I didn't know he walked outside."
Niall finally starts eating.
Here's the thing, it's not like he didn't know Calvin left his house because really, he did. He thinks everyone who happens to pay attention to the people walking just outside their door could be memorized just by the sound of their voice or the way they dress. Although Niall hardly could distinguish the sound of his neighbour's voice, he knows the way he dresses because no normal boy in the middle of summer who lives directly in front of the popular beach in none other than California would wear oversized sweaters and dark coloured skinny jeans outside. Some would say he's crazy, Niall just thinks it's a matter of being used to it or just not sweating as much as the average human does.
"Yes, he does. And I do not fucking stalk him. That'd be utterly disturbing."
Roman hums. "So anyway, I had an argument with him today. Fucking dick, can't believe he was right. God damn it, now I feel stupid."
Niall lets his friend ramble on for two reasons. One being that Roman wouldn't stop talking until he was finally able to be content with his mistake or situation. And two, he would only be toned out by Roman and all his hopefully helpful words would simply be tossed out the window. Really, there's no reason to converse with him when he's ranting to Niall about how supposedly stupid he is. All over a part of a healthy breakfast product called New-tella instead of Nuh-tella.
"-I should have just agreed with him so he didn't roll his eyes and whisper New-tella under his breath and walk away." He finishes, taking a deep breath all while Niall eats while staring at anything but Roman.
"Great, now he thinks I'm a creep and you're my equally as creepy best friend."
"Oh shit, I'm your best friend? Didn't know I meant so much to you," Roman says, trying to sound as fake-emotional as he could possibly be, going as far as placing his hand across his chest and wiping at his eyes. Niall ignores him, picking at his food. "Why the hell did you argue with him?" His voice is louder than normal, but Roman doesn't flinch at all. He just moves his hand away from his chest and starts tapping his finger on the wooden table.
"You're overreacting. I get that you like the guy and all but don't you think you're taking this way too far- I mean, going up to his door every morning and asking to take him out for coffee is one thing, getting frustrated over me, your best friend, arguing with him over how to pronounce some stupid unexplained word?"
"It's not fucking unexplained I told you it's on their website- okay. I am being a bit too bizarre but you got to understand that-"
"You're annoying and don't understand that the guy just doesn't find you appealing at all? Probably 'cause you stalk him. Just saying," Roman says, followed by a chuckle and continues tapping his fingers against the table in a rhythmic pattern. Niall sets his fork down, closing the container and pushing it towards Roman.
"I can always count on you for free food," Roman says, using the same fork that Niall had been using. Niall doesn't question it, he just stares while Roman takes small bites of the half finished lunch, and continues talking about his partially uneventful day. "It's my way of telling you to shut up. Like please, I beg of you, he could hear us if both of our windows were opened."
"I got an idea," Roman drops the fork in his hand, "If we open up our window and stand right by it, we could make fake sex noises and piss him off so he comes over and complains that our sexual antics are going to give us STD's and herpes."
"Stop talking, oh my god," Niall stands up from the table and pushes the chair in. He takes the fork from Roman and trades it for a new one. "He's not like, eighty, he's around our age. He's not going to come over here and complain."
Roman shrugs. "I just thought you would be so desperate for his attention that you'd actually go along with it. I was actually practicing fake moans the other day, it worked on the girl next door. I heard her complaining about how I would never stop touching my dick. You want to hear how sexual they sound?"
Niall pauses. No, he does not want to hear his friend make fake moans in his own house. No, he does not wish for people to think he's fucking the annoying guy who argues about stupid shit. Who also happens to be his only friend. "No thanks."
"Come on, I promise you'll be completely surprised."
"Roman, I'll kick you out."
He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. "Fine, whatever."
"Do you think he would be up for getting coffee with me tomorrow morning? The place has really good waffles, too."
Roman covers his face with one hand. "Why are you asking me? Shouldn't you ask the guy who you want to fuck?"
"I don't want to fuck him, Roman," Niall says. Roman looks away, mouthing 'okay' before going back to the leftovers Niall gave him. Honestly, Niall could classify him as his fucking pet who just lives down the street most of the time. "It's just a lowkey crush, I swear. I just want to take him out and then that'd be it."
"Here's the thing- you just gotta be the dude in those cliché films where they run into the girl and catch them before falling and they're lips are centimeters apart and they almost kiss but the girl moves away and they starts blushing. Then be the guy who gets a boost of random confidence and asks her out."
"I have never seen a film like that."
"Oh my god, how!" Roman exclaims, eyes wide as he looks at his friend. Niall shrugs.
"I'm not into shitty plots like you are when it comes to movies," Niall says and rolls his eyes. "But anyway, I'll stop by there tomorrow and then if that doesn't work out we can go to the beach." Roman closes the container, having still some food leftover. Niall takes this time to walk back to the table and get the container and plastic bag to throw it in the bin.
"Sounds good. Please don't be in a pissy mood when he puts you down yet another time."
Niall sighs because he really does get put into a bad mood when the guy who's literally been next door to him for two years declines his offer of getting him out of the house. Nonetheless, he smiles at Roman and nods. "Yeah, sure. Promise."
Roman laughs. "Whatever you say." He gets up and leaves, but not before making an awfully loud moaning noise and shutting the door.
// this is gonna be really angsty so im making the first few chapters lowkey weird.