Chapter 6
Tyson
The strobe lights are a lot more annoying than they usually are in the club Roman has pretty much forced us all into celebrating at.
Any other time, I probably wouldn’t care, have a drink or two, let some random boy kiss me, but I promised I’d be on tonight, so I need to make this quick.
Roman, Mikah, Remi, and I all make our way through the moving bodies, sweet perfume and woodsy cologne mixed with a little sweat coat the air.
When we get to the private section, Carter and Max, who begged me to come and celebrate when I know he really just wants a chance to bother Carter, are already there.
“Hey, Ty!” Carter grins. “You killed it.”
“Thanks, and thanks for keeping an eye on Max for me.”
“Yeah, Carter, thanks for keeping an eye on me,” my little brother says, batting his eyelashes at him.
“Uh, yeah, of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head at Max.
My brother gets up and pulls me in closer to him. “Oh, Ty, thanks for talking to Dad … sorry for, you know…” he whispers, reaching for my hand.
I hate that my dad does this to him. To us.
Max always ends up feeling like shit that he uses him against me.
But it’s not his fault. And I don’t ever want him to think it is.
I don’t even want him to think about any of this.
He should be studying, having fun, and having little crushes on my co-worker, I guess.
“Don’t worry about it, Max, I have a plan,” I reassure him. “Just go to class and keep your grades up.”
“Okay, but seriously … I…” Max starts, “It’s okay,” I say firmly this time.
“Alright, alright.” He smiles, going back to his seat next to Carter.
I sit down on the sectional, Roman flopping down next to me, draping his arm behind my head.
“Do you think Zayne will come out tonight?”
“Why would he? They lost,” I ask, pinching my brows.
“I don’t know, sometimes he comes here to let loose, I guess.” Roman smirks.
“Wait, is that why you brought us here?” Mikah laughs.
“You’re a grade-A stalker, dude,” Remi joins in, nudging Roman’s shoulder.
“I’m not. I swear to God it’s a coincidence if he shows up.”
“You’re a horrible liar,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Roman has been fostering a wild and delusional crush on Rohan’s team leader for a while now, but Zayne hasn’t been biting. And Roman, who usually never has much trouble in that department, has been chasing him like a fucking dog with a bone.
“Hey, I know you’re not talking. You only say more than five words when Rohan is around or brought up.” Roman laughs.
“That’s a questionable observation,” I reply.
“Nah, he’s right. Your pupils literally dilate when he comes around.” Mikah chuckles.
“Also, don’t you go to all his matches?” Max chirps, and I snap my head toward him. Why the fuck does he know that?
“Not all of them,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “And it’s just to keep up with competition.”
“Ah, right, our champ. Always ahead of the game,” Mikah says.
They’re always so convinced there’s more to me and Rohan’s rivalry than there actually is.
First off, sure, Rohan is something nice to look at, but he fucking hates my guts, so there’s definitely nothing there.
But mostly, there’s only one boy on my mind right now.
And I’d rather be heading to my apartment to get a few hours in with him.
“Carter, do you wanna dance?” I hear Max whisper into Carter’s ear next to me. And I know he’s trying to hold back a grin. He gives him a small nod before making eye contact with me. I roll my eyes, watching him get dragged away into the sea of bodies.
“Ty!” I look up to find one of my usual hookups, waving at me, coming over to our section. “Hey, how you been?” I nod toward him.
“I’ve been great. I missed you,” he drawls.
I hum instead of returning the verbal affection because I hate saying shit I don’t actually mean.
“So, are you free tonight?” He asks, his hand slowly rubbing my exposed arm.
“I’m not, sorry, Riley,” I say, as nicely as I can, but I can see him flinch. “Oh, okay, that’s fine. Maybe another time?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Alright, well, I’ll see you,” he says before swiftly turning and heading back into the crowd.
“I thought you liked him?” Roman laughs.
“I do.”
“So, who the fuck are you bringing home?” Remi asks, snorting.
“Nobody. I don’t fuck every night.”
“Right, right. Not lately, anyway,” Roman says.
I open my mouth to reply, but Roman suddenly sits up straighter, looking over near the bar. “Oh, that’s my cue, see ya, good job tonight!”
“I think he found his target.” Mikah laughs, “He’s a lost cause. He’s going to be chasing Zayne till he’s in a nursing home.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll head out then,” I say, nudging Remi’s knee with my leg. “Tell Max I went home.”
“Gotcha, have a good night,” Remi says, wiggling his brows.
“You’re annoying,” I reply, rolling my eyes before getting up and heading out of the section.
I move through the crowd and down the corridor towards the exit.
Before I reach the door, I happen to look down one of the dark halls, and there they are; Roman with his tongue slipping into Zayne’s mouth.
I laugh, making them look over at me. Of course, Roman looks a little pissed, especially since Zayne shoves him away, his face flushed.
I wonder what Rohan would think of this sight.
“Hey, Ty. Great game,” Zayne mumbles.
“Yeah, thanks. Heading out. You two have fun.” I smirk. “Okay, go, and text me when you get back,” Roman says, waving me off. I shake my head, laughing a little, and turn to leave them to continue. Good for Roman. I guess he’s making some great progress.
Pushing the door open, I pull a cigarette from my back pocket and fit it between my lips. The chilly night air whips my hair as I make my way toward the car. I check my watch and take a drag of my cigarette, leaning against my driver’s door.
Hopefully he hasn’t been waiting for me too long.
* * *
Cutting the engine of my car, I grab my bag from the passenger seat.
It’s pretty late by the time I’ve made it back, but I still need to log in to the game for at least a little bit.
I hate to go back on anything I’ve ever promised, even if it’s small.
I hit the button to the elevator and step in.
Just as the doors are closing, I hear footsteps sprinting towards me, an arm reaching out to tap the button quickly.
The doors open, and I can’t help but stare.
He always has this air about him.
The boy with the golden hair and golden eyes. You could say I was mesmerized. Until he opened his fucking mouth, that is.
“What the fuck are you staring at, Tyson?” Rohan sneers.
Sometimes I wonder if he ever speaks in any other tone or if this is his default voice.
“Nothing interesting,” I say, looking away from him as he steps inside.
Rohan puts as much space as he can between us, and that makes me chuckle. “What’s funny?” He snaps his head toward me. The usual bag of snacks he always comes in with dangles by his side.
“Nothing.”
“You couldn’t find anywhere else to live?
” he says, leering at me. Rohan seems to think I’m stalking him, and I haven’t done that since I saw him play the first time in competition.
Our living in the same building was pure coincidence.
Hell, imagine my surprise when we ran into each other in the mailroom.
He looked like he wanted to kill me right then and there.
“Ah, yes, because the world revolves around Rohan.”
“I mean, yours seems to, since you keep showing up wherever I am.”
“Wherever you are? It’s two places, stop bitching,” I argue.
“Two places. Right.”
This is the longest fucking elevator ride of my life. Rohan shifts on his feet as we come to the fourth floor, where he lives, thank God. I live on the sixth, and I’m glad there’s two floors of distance between us at least.
The doors open, and he rolls his eyes at me like the immature brat he is before stepping off and letting the door close behind him with a ding. I sigh, pressing my back into the wall.
“He would be so fucking good if he just didn’t speak,” I mumble to myself.
I make it to my unit and step in, hanging my bag above the bench by the door and pulling my shoes off. I’m starving, probably should eat before anything. I haven’t gone grocery shopping, so the only thing left is ramen, and that’ll just have to do. I pull a pot down and start the water to boil.
That’s the only thing I kind of miss about living with my dad; cooked meals.
I never had to worry about what I was going to eat for the day since we had a private chef.
More than that, I miss my mom’s cooking.
Those were always my favorite days. But if I want my father to respect me, I need to learn to survive on my own.
I’d say I’m not doing too badly at it, though the needle with him hasn’t moved much.
I pour the freshly boiled noodles into a bowl and sit down at my computer.
The screen illuminates me and the room in a soft blue light.
I click on the game, hoping he hasn’t been waiting too long.
Either way, I need to run the program tonight to make sure it’s still working okay.
Carter and my other co-workers are still reporting that they’re having issues I’m just not seeing with the game.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m always distracted with playing with my little friend, who I pretty much confirmed has a crush on me.
My lips tilt into a smile just thinking about it.
I had no intention of really playing with the other players the QA team invited to beta test, and I definitely shouldn’t be getting close to any of them as I’m working on the game.
Which is why I try not to creep into anything too personal with him.
But he’s proven to be quite tempting. I’ve been ghosting my usual fuck buddies for a while now just to talk to him at night.
I must be losing my fucking mind, indulging in an internet fling.
Sounds kind of pathetic, but I can’t help it.
I pick up some noodles with my chopsticks and feed them into my mouth before putting my login information into the game. I finish up what I guess will be dinner in between load screens.
Ah, he’s waiting for me.