Chelsea Chelsea has not left his suite for two days. He was glum and irritated, snapping at the butler who'd delivered room service and objectifying the cleaning lady when she'd come at 1:30pm. It was already night and his tongue lingered on the bittersweet taste of a Chateau Mounton Rothschild. He was lying on one of the many lounges on the sky terrace. His phone was somewhere there too but he didn't care enough to know where. Gloom waved at him everywhere he wandered. He was losing it. Contacting and venting to Lily had prompted her to block him for the time being according to the angry words she'd thrown at him on the phone. Frequently, he'd stand by the screen balustrades and look at the view below. The large swimming pool glowed blue at night, he sometimes wondered if some chemical was put in it to give it that kind of effect. He couldn't ask now for sure, he avoided talking to any of the hotel's staffs because he'd learned times without number that 'a shared thought is shar
ARC "You've been staring at the table for a while now." He gave a grunt and pushed a boiled broccoli around his plate with a fork. "You don't like the food?" They couldn't afford more groceries since his pay had been cut again by his boss, Bill and all because he was lagging behind, a reason he knew was absolutely cruddy. Although the food tasted alright enough since Penelope was a good enough cook. And it wasn't his reduced wages that bothered him. "You're in a mood." He grunted again. "Are your painkillers not working any longer? We could go the hospital." Arc wished it was his leg that was making him feel the way he was. "I'm fine Penelope, no hospitals." "Something's on your mind." He could feel her eyes burn a hole through his head. "I'm fine." "You're not." "I'm going to my room." "The basement you mean." She said, humour in her voice. "You wanna switch rooms?" He snapped. "Don't take out whatever is wrong with you on me." "Don't push me then." "I'm not willing
CHELSEA "He's in." "What?" A heavy slam of pain hit his head. "Ow." "What's wrong with you? Did the 'd' just hit your 'p-spot'?" "What? How can I be having sex while speaking with you on the phone?" His head pounded as he got out words from his mouth. He was sure his head was about to fall off. "I don't know Chelsea. Some people can get that kinky." "I'm not those people." "But you could be one of them." "Come on Lily, what were you saying again?" "He's in the bag." "Who.. is.. in.. the..bag?!" "Your lover boy." Chelsea didn't want to believe it was true. He decided to make sure she was more specific. "I've got tons of lover boys." "Arc the Orc. The frog in your 'the princess and the frog' story." A loud screech tore from his throat. "Whoa! Don't ever do that again." He let out another one. "Okay, I'm hanging up." "Wait!" His throat suddenly felt hoarse. "They just came out o
Arc Hendersonville Street was a lovely juncture between the rift raft side of town he lived in and the fixer upper part of Thorne. It was a rural place where the nicer folks dwelled in and where the older people chose to spend the remainder of their days in quiet solitude. It was also where Sarah's ping pong club was situated. The building wasn't hard to find, since it was the only building that wasn't made of brick and was probably costlier too. Like the other houses, it had a nice lawn in front, and a driveway that led to a garage. He'd managed to persuade Bill in letting him take the afternoon off, on the condition that he'd work overtime when he signs in for the night. He pictured Penelope in his mind as he entered the building and saw a nice looking woman at the front desk. The receptionist he was sure. He walked up to her, not caring as she gasped when she looked up from her monitor. The smile she'd been wearing wore
Chelsea He should've have taken a selfie with him. That came to his realization after sulking for about three hours on his bed, the bloody Mary stained pillow in his arms, and a glass of lime juice on the bedside drawer. The glass was filled, almost to the brim which was as a result of his pent up frustration after the meeting with Arc. Archer. He groaned out. He'd been so annoyed for reasons he couldn't think off. But he'd hated being ignored. Like he wasn't noticeable in the supreme eyes of Archer Blackwood. Like he didn't exist around him when it wasn't the same for Chelsea. Arc's presence overwhelmed and he didn't understand why. He was as tall as a tree when exaggerated a little, and he had a quiet ambience around him that unsettled Chelsea. And he had limited time since he'd blurted out that he was doing a live session with Arc and the week was almost over. Talk about hashtag epic fail. His stomach churned at the thought of losing the
Arc "Hey man." Arc looked up to see Sarge's short bearded face peering at him through a window. He was bent over Lucie, the most tenacious porcine he had ever been thrust upon. She was a four hundred pounds sow of obstinacy and mischievousness. And she refused to move from her spot on the bedding area, laying comfortably like she would rather not be anywhere else. Pig's feces was littered almost everywhere and he needed her out for it to be cleaned out. "Having a little trouble there ain't you?" "It's fine." He grumbled out. He would poke her with a muck fork if he had to. He grabbed a rake and dragged it through the hay. Lucie didn't budge. "Okay." He forced out a cough and scratched his chin. "I, erm, saw that pic of yours on the internet." Arc paused. "What?" "My little sis couldn't stop yapping about it so I took a look at it out of curiosity. I'm sorry man." "Why are you apologizing?" "What?" "Nevermind." "Oh, just thought I should let you know that you and
Chelsea "Are you in pain Archie?" He didn't realize the question until he'd read it aloud. It was gone before he could check who it'd been. He swerved to Arc and watched him closely. He had that closed off look on his face again. His lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes refused to meet Chelsea's. Why wasn't he looking at him. If there was one thing Chelsea was terrible at, it was reading people. Was Arc uncomfortable or was he just behaving grumpily as he usually did? Did he not like being close to Chelsea? Suddenly, he remembered when Arc had refused to touch him during the meeting they had with Lily, preferring to put the pen on the desk instead. He decided not be irrational. He always jumped into conclusions with the worse ideas possible. It was that known trait of his that'd brought about the dilemma he was presently facing, upon himself. "Are you not okay?" His attention was no longer on the comments. He rested his le
Arc Yes, Arc was an idiot. A big one. "This is so amazing, we're all here again. I'm glad to see y'all." The black woman named named Kaitlyn asserted. "Well..." Her eyes glided down from the tip of Grey's head to the wheels of his chair. "Except for no-legs over there." "I'm glad to see you too Miss Kaitlyn." Brandon commented, a wide grin on his face. Arc didn't know alot of jocks but Brandon fit the stereotype with his messy blonde hair, tank top and what looked to be excessively tight shorts. "Oh this boy. You sure know how to make a lady swoon. I'm no Miss, boyo. Just call me Kaitlyn." She smiled widely. "I'll have you know that I'm the loving mother to two beautiful kids and the wife to a lovely woman." Brandon's jaw dropped. "Whoa." "Great, another fucking homosexual." Grey uttered, flinging his hands in the air. "Wouldn't surprise me to know that Bozo sucks wood too." "Why the hell are you here then i