Chapter 5
Silas
Noah and I stare at each other, then down the hall, then back at each other, wondering if we just hallucinated Matty storming into the apartment, down the hall, and into his old bedroom without a word.
The game on the screen makes a loud explosion, kicking my avatar back into the lobby. Tossing the controller on the coffee table, I wait a few minutes to see if Matty returns, but, of course, he doesn't. Classic.
Noah's the sensitive one. I should leave it to him to find out what in the hell is going on.
But I've got a soft spot for Mateo. The little fucker is always so dramatic. Like that time he moved out after we'd lived together for nearly fifteen years without so much as a heads up.
Didn't tell us why. One day he lived here. The next day he didn't.
We confronted him at his office, demanding explanations, and he just shrugged, said he got a new apartment.
See? Dramatic. He thinks being the strong, silent type means he's chill. Man's got zero chill.
We hang out and grab drinks after work, and Noah and I bug him to meet for lunch sometimes, so we still see him all the time, but he pretends everything is normal and his personality didn't do a one-fucking-eighty.
Well, that's not entirely true. He's still a moody bitch.
But he no longer visits Atrium, a place we practically lived for the last few years since some friends from college opened it up. And he seemed… dare I say, happy? He doesn't smile or anything, but I catch him with softer expressions here and there, and that's a lot.
"Did that just happen?" Noah muses.
"Should we go see if baby brother's okay?"
Noah snorts, dropping his controller on the coffee table next to mine, and I follow him down the hall. As suspected, Matty's in his old room, which sits exactly how he left it a couple of months ago, minus all his clothes and shit. Concern hits me, seeing my bestie sitting on the edge of his bed, head in hands, a bag full of clothes beside him.
"Mateo, what happened?" Noah asks.
"Bro," I kick his shin, much less cautious than Noah. Matty looks up and I almost take a step back. He looks… fucked.
Weirded out, I slowly sit beside him, pushing his bag out of the way. "You moving back in?"
"No," he snaps. Then amends, "Maybe. I don't know."
I snort, "Thanks man, we love you too."
"What happened?" Noah asks again.
Matty sighs. "I need a drink. Then I need to tell you something."
Noah and I glance at each other nervously, following Matty back out of his room to the kitchen. He pulls out a bottle from the bar, the one we save for special occasions, pouring the small batch bourbon into three glasses.
Noah and I reach out to grab ours, but he's already downed the first sip before he's pouring another. Shit, this doesn't seem good.
Then he blurts out, "I'm in love with someone. I live with her now. She doesn't know about you two. Or… Atrium ," he adds slowly.
"You have a fucking girlfriend?" I ask, shocked. Collapsing into the chair, I finish my glass. "Why didn't you tell us?"
He shrugs. "I thought I wanted… I don't know. Just her. Not…" He gestures at me and Noah. I mean, we've shared girlfriends before—if you can count trysts that lasted longer than a few dates with some hot freaky down-ass pussy we met at Atrium, a girlfriend—but that's not like, a requirement for our friendship. I happen to like being in a relationship with my brothers and one girl. It works for us. But there's no shame if he wanted to venture on his own.
Noah tells him as much, and he nods, like he agrees. Except, he's still got that wild look in his eye. "I thought I could escape it. Keep it from her. But man… I fucking love her. And it makes me want it more. To share her, to… push her."
To push her. Limits, expectations, body, mind. It means a lot of things when you're a depraved little shit like we are. I get what he means, though.
"So, you told her about Atrium?"
"No. I'm here because some shit went down. Long story. She's a social media influencer."
"You're fucking kidding me!" I laugh. I can't imagine Matty with a girlfriend, let alone an influencer . He's such an ornery asshole, not camera friendly. Or normal friendly, for that matter.
I keep laughing, but he powers through. "Anyway, this chick she knows doctored some photos, implying we were having an affair. I don't know how she did it or why. All I know is it devastated Lucy. Made her question… us."
"So she thinks you cheated?" Noah asks softly.
"We cleared it up. Kind of. I think she believes me, but it opened this fucking pandora's box. She pointed out that I keep shit from her. Said she feels like she doesn't know me."
"Do you… I mean, is your sex life—"
"It's pretty vanilla. It's hard to explain. We're great. She's perfect, man, you don't even know."
A hot sting of jealousy snakes up my spine. I'm happy for my best friend, but I've always wanted that. A woman like he's describing. A relationship with someone who could love the real me. Maybe even love the three of us…
We may have dabbled in poly relationships since we were teenagers, but I've never admitted to my brothers that it's the only way I pictured my life when I got older—four of us together.
Matty could be emotionally unavailable if he needed to be. Noah would pick up the slack. I could make her laugh, tease her, fill her days with happiness. Together, we make one solidly decent boyfriend.
I dismiss the longing for now because the look in Matty's eyes right now is devastation. He needs us. I don't know what that amounts to, but I straighten in my chair.
"So, you don't play?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "Never. Not really."
"Alright, setting aside the fact that you've been hiding a girlfriend from us, what exactly is the problem? She believes you didn't cheat… you live together… why don't you just be honest? Tell her the truth."
"Tell her what, Silas? I've never had a girlfriend. When was the last time we picked up a woman outside of Atrium? She's not like that. She's not like us."
"There's nothing wrong with us," Noah says softly.
"Fuck. That's not what I meant. It's just… we've only really fucked around with people who already knew the lifestyle. Lucy's like a jittery ball of sunshine. She's wholesome. A legit southern girl with a thick accent and the sweetest disposition. I'm worried I'll lose her if she meets the real me."
A hedonist, he means. But that's not all he is; same as Noah and me. We're more than our sexual preferences. It's the twenty-first fucking century; poly and four-way sex is no longer taboo. Orgy's are the new ménage a trois .
Even if some of our scene-play is a little kinkier than the average, it's not that strange. It's Google-able. Maybe not mainstream, but popular enough to have its own wiki profile.
I bet he's underestimating the girl.
"She sounds real nice, Mateo," Noah encourages, making Matty grunt.
"Why don't you bring her around? I'll behave." I cross my heart, but he narrows his eyes. "What? I won't fuck her unless she's into it. Think she'll be into it?" I ask hopefully.
"No," he sighs. And he sounds legitimately bummed about that. I'm flattered. That's okay, it's probably for the best. She sounds sweet and all, but not really my type. Not really Matty's type either, come to think of it.
The most emotionally mature of the three of us, Noah redirects. "Mateo, it sounds like you wanted to keep this relationship between you and her. Did something change? We can help you figure out how to navigate—"
"No. That's the thing… I want all of it. I thought I could do it, have a normal relationship. But the more I fell for her, the more I wanted you two there with me. How fucked up is it I want to see my girlfriend get railed by my best friends?" He laughs sardonically.
"Hey man, quit with the judgy shit. We like what we like. No shame. As long as she knows what she's getting into."
"She doesn't, though. That's the problem. She has no idea who she fell for. I feel like I'm about to rip the rug from under her feet. And all this shit with her friend, faking those pictures. I'm worried it's all gonna blow up in my face. In hers."
"Wait. Is she famous?"
Matty shrugs. "Kinda. Like, internet-famous. She has a million followers, but I don't—"
"A million ?"
"Yeah."
Damn. "Is she hot?"
Matty glares, making me laugh. He finishes his second glass of bourbon and pulls away from the counter. "I need sleep. I gotta call my lawyer in the morning. I'll see you assholes tomorrow."
His easy dismissal might be offensive if I didn't know he was internally freaking out.
"We'll talk more tomorrow," Noah calls out as we watch Matty disappear back down the hall, slow and lost in thought, his bedroom door slamming shut behind him.
Noah runs his hands through his long hair, chewing his bottom lip.
"Not you too?" I ask.
"What?"
"You're worried."
"I am." Noah shrugs. Heading back into the living room, he picks up his laptop. "Anyway, where were we?"
Picking up the controller, I restart the game. "We got glitches on level four, scene one."
Matty is a finance bro, but Noah and I have been designing video games since we dropped out of college. I'm the artist, Noah's the coder. Well, we both code, but he's the one who has to deal with the glitches. I watch for color repeats and clarity in the characters. We've been testing this newest game for a few weeks, and it's almost ready for auction.
We have our own company, work freelance, and sell to major video game companies once we've got something tangible. It lets us be creative and change what we're in the mood to work on, from first-person shooters to puzzles, selling to whichever company the game is best suited for. Sometimes it's our own project, sometimes we're hired to help with larger game production. The money's good, I hang with my best friend all day, and write my own schedule.
It's pretty perfect. Sure, there are some things missing. Matty, for instance. A woman to love and take care of.
But my life is pretty good.
Before bed, I end up trolling social media, searching every form of the name Lucy + Influencer, trying to find out what the little vixen looks like, but I give up after the fiftieth profile. It's okay.
Now that we know she exists, Matty's attempts to hide her from us are futile.