THE SUPERSTRUCTURE WITH THE SUPERMARKET'S seal inscribed in cursive letters stands straight before the duo as they pull into the parking lot. Well that is after hardcore hustling for space while serving rounds of cussing and screaming at many drivers. As the Winter holidays draw nearer, this place gets crowdy as fuck and you have to struggle to get a parking — even a breathing — space. Even now, and it is just fucking 11:30 in the morning.
Stepping out of the cramped convertible, Gray stretches his limbs as if waking from a year of deep slumber. He rubs my hands together for heat while watching Tatum brush his Givenchy fur coat with his hands covered in equally expensive mittens before locking his Ferrari with the car remote.
Everything about Tatum reflects so much wealth, it is blinding for peasant eyes like Gray's. Well, you can't expect less from the only son of the an airline's proprietor. Don't be surprised he knew this after vigils of unhealthy amount of stalking. When he somehow conjured it out of Kara that Tatum is his crush's ex, he needed to know more about his — hopefully not — potential rival.
"The weather is really cold." Gray face-palms at his miserable attempt to strike a conversation. Still, he needs to keep his haughtiness at bay and at least talk to him. Moreover, he was the one who begged Tatum to do this.
"No thanks for stating the obvious, Captain Sherlock." Tatum states indifferently, chilly air blowing out of his nose and mouth.
Gray unintentionally let out a sneer.
"I hope your wallet is really loaded because as much as he hates overly expensive stuff, cheap shit puts him off."
Of course Gray has his credit card loaded like virgin teenage balls. All his countless — not only night shifts but extra-night — shifts and working tirelessly like an animal is going to worth it. It is for him after all. Gray nods before uppercutting the air with thrill and enthusiasm rushing through his capillaries. "Lets go buy Alejandro a birthday present!" He yells, bouncing into the building while Tatum follows quietly behind, shaking his head.
Typical Christmas-themed mega-mart interior, nothing much except the multitude with hard, focused faces that fill every floor like a swarm of migrating bees — okay maybe he's exaggerating a little. But they are still enough for him to bump into a toddler's giant chocolate lollipop, smearing it all over his jacket.
Oh, how he fuckingly fucking hate fucking chocolate! The fucking smell, the fucking bittersweet taste, the fucking colour. Fucking thinking of it wants to fucking make him fucking fuck his fucking heart out.
Even the hell spawn wearing a giant ass goblin hat starts to wail after staining his jacket with that hell candy. She was the one who fucking bumped into him.
"Grayson, are you alright? Snap out of it!"
He blinks before realizing he basically froze on walking. "What happened?"
"What do you mean 'what happened', you've been glaring at the wall for thirty seconds like you wanna rip it open with your bare hands."
"Oh sorry, I guess I just zoned out." Gray shrugs.
"Nutjob." Tatum hisses underneath his breath.
Don't you sucker-punch him in the face, Gray.
"So which section do we go now?"
"The men's section." And Tatum takes off, leaving Gray training behind quietly. Guess he'll have to put up with him till the end of their little shopping spree. Gray called him as his consultant in finding gifts for Alejandro - due to his experience and all, ugh - because he wants everything to be perfect.
"Remember, anything with a green shade will make him happy. And no too sparkly things, he hates it-"
"I know that."
Tatum scowls probably because Gray cut him off.
Well, suck it in pretty boy. Everybody gets ignored at one point in time.
"Well, except for the sparkly part, I didn't know."
"J-just pick something." Tatum says, already searching for his too.
Gray's eyes studiously scan the section.
Shaving cream, nah..
Necklaces, too cliche..
Hair dryer, why did I even think of that..
"Hey what about this?" Gray points to a set navy-green swimsuit poker-dotted with black.
"The hell, no."
"Come on." Gray drawls, "He'll love it."
"What makes you think so?"
"It's limited edition."
"So?"
"Limited edition equals rare edition equals best edition, stuff."
"He might, scratch that, will have a lot at home with him."
"Well, gifts from special people are special." Gray holds the price tag up to view.
"Wait what makes you think you're special? You two aren't dating and hell you don't even know if he likes you."
But Gray ignores him. The outrageous number of zeroes on the price tag is making him dizzy.
He shakes his head out of the financial reverie, his eyes traveling to yet another limited edition jockstrap. "I'll definitely take that one."
Gray hears Tatum snicker. Wow, his laughter is really. . .sweet..
"A jockstrap, really?"
"It's cute." Very cute with a chicken face on the area where the junk should be dunked.
"I guess. And it will hang on that fat, bubbly ass of his perfectly well."
Okay, I didn't just hear that. But yeah, Gray definitely knows how his ass looks like. Oh, that fateful day he'll never ever forget.
Damn Al's got ass!
Even rivaling Layla's.
Softer than batter.
Enough to make the brain scatter.
A freaking boy for that matter!
He is basically a wonder.
Wait a freaking sec, did I just construct a poem on Al's ass? Haha, (always) naughty me.
"Grayson!" Speak of the devil...
She wallops towards Gray with her wavy copper locks, that Tiffany/Stephanie bitch trailing behind her. The latter seems to be filming a Snapchat video with all the doggy tongue noises sounding from the phone while releasing her own tongue, like licking a ice lolly, or better still, dick.
"Or should I say gayson?" Layla nudges his arm. Gray gives her a shiny poker-face.
"It's actually bison, [cos I'm bi and all] and I really do fuck like one."
She and Tiffany/Stephanie burst into laughter — it wasn't even that funny — that made me reminisce.
Ha, good ol' days when all the girls and guys gather around him like some god and laugh their rectums out at his not-funny jokes, the morons never get it even. Well, they still do but nowadays, meeting Alejandro has granted me a retirement from all those popularity shit.
"So what are you doing here?"
"Shopping for Alejandro's birthday." Gray proudly declares without second thought. His intent; to slice a bitch.
Her smile falters a bit. "Wow, nice!"
Gray nods, slightly gleeful that he is able to get even the tiniest reaction out of her. She still loves/likes him, good to know.
"What are you getting him?"
He gestures to the background. Tatum is pressing his phone with a flat face.
"What about flowers? Birthday cards?"
"Al doesn't like sappy shit like those." Tatum voices out of the blue. He stands beside me now with his arms crossed.
"What type of gay guy doesn't love flowers?"
"Especially for someone like him." Gray sneers at Tiff/Steph.
Bitch, no one put the dog's mouth in shit.
"Al does. Now can you please excuse us, we are trying to shop here."
"Who do you think you're anyways?" Layla, with a scowl on her face, trots before Tatum who merely pops a bubble gum bubble. He stands like tower beside lamppost Layla. "Grayson, does he know who I am?"
Of course. A total waste of time and jizz with a stank pussy.
"Tatum, this is my ex-girlfriend."
"You're bisexual?"
"At least get him birthday cards." Layla pipes up. "Maybe perfumes?"
"No." Tatum sharply declares.
Wow, bossy much?
"Ugh this guy doesn't even know a thing about presents." Tiffany says.
"Tell me about it." Layla agrees.
This is the time when Tatum snaps. "Nobody asked for your fucking opinion." He is red-faced already. Gray wonders how he gets along with Al — for how many months did Kara say, five? — when they are both equally so temperamental.
"Come on Gray, let's go. I'll show you." Layla grabs Gray's left arm, pulling him away from Tatum. Only if he hasn't done the same.
"He's not going anywhere." He pulls.
"Yes, he is." Stephanie assists Layla and held his arm tightly.
Ewww, cooties!
"No, he's not."
"Yes, he's." They pull.
"Hell no, he's not."
"Heck yeah, he's."
"No. . ." Another rushing shopper bumps into them.
"Yes. . ." His skin starts to burn from their death grasps.
"No. . ." Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.
"Yes. . ." I need to pee.
"No. . ." Gray, calm down.
"Yes. . ." These vultures are killing me!
"No. . ." They are trying to help.
"Yes. . ."
"No. . ."
"Yes. . ."
"Enough!"
Gray bellows with much more temper than intended, yanking his hands out of their holds. As much as he loves people fighting over him, he's not some boytoy or even a 18-year-old male, American Aphrodite with gorgeous platinum blonde hair, enchanting cerulean eyes coupled with beautiful milky alabaster skin and a body worth dying for.
Tatum awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, Layla flips her hair with smugness. Her sidebitch just stands there, annoying as ever.
"Let's just work together as a team." His left eye twitches from fury. "Tatum, due to experience, you're undebatably useful. Layla, and Felony —"
"It's Stephanie."
"I know, you both are girls and are experts in stuff like —"
"Too late." Gray frowns at Layla who is tapping furiously at her phone. "Everest, my boyfriend needs me."
Pffft. No surprise there.
"Bye Gray." She smiles and pats his cheek. Casting one last glare at Tatum and earning a long bony middle finger from the latter, she scurries off with Melanie trailing behind like a bitch she is.
He is almost clueless as to why he despises her so much but one thing he knows, she is the snake who has been fueling the school with false rumors and Layla with false information that ended up in humiliating Alejandro in the cafeteria.
Gray will never forgive the world for doing that to his baby.
The rest of the shopping went on smoothly apart from the heated argument that took place between Tatum and I about buying this limited edition leather wrist band. Gray said it was supposed to be sentimental and it was limited edition while Tatum argued that it was cheap, bland and not quality enough.
As they round up their spree, something catches Gray's attention. Tatum's eyes trace his and eventually land on the object of interest standing on the apex of a shelf.
Gun Oil; Silicone Lubricant (limited edition)
Funny name, I wonder what type of 'gun' it oils....
"Don't tell me you're seriously gonna buy that." Tatum gasps incredulously.
"What? Pfft, of course not. Do I look like I'm out of my mind?"
Three moments later...
"Don't miss the lube, ma'am." Gray squeaks, unashamed as he points to two items amidst his stuff while gleefully swinging his arms like a toddler filled with anticipation.
"Dude, you're legit out of your mind." Tatum shakes his head in disbelief with a smile on his face.
They are now in front of the Latina cashier who is subtly glaring daggers at Gray for his harum-scarum mouth. After packaging their booty and handing them the receipts [Gray exhausted ever penny on him], he takes one last glance at the giant mart before heading out.
Suddenly as he almost exits the main door, his brain clicks and he freezes on the spot.
"Shit, I forgot the jockstrap."
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
"People are actually reading this shit..." I whisper to myself in disbelief...