Inciting Incident
Though it was a day late, the message Zachariel received from his parents was still a disappointment. Can’t make it this week. We’ll go out next weekend. Though he was swallowed in a very familiar disappointment, he wasn’t upset. He was an adult now, right? Turning eighteen meant that he couldn’t make a big deal out of something as silly as birthdays.
Not that they’d ever really been a big deal.
Zachariel didn’t want for anything in, living in the large estate in Sao Paulo. His parents took very good care of him – something he was always reminding his neighbor when William was quick to shoot barbs in his parents direction. Made all the more egregious because William was in much the same situation. Busy parents, changing the world. Working to support them. Providing a comfortable life.
He’d been staring at the text message all morning, working on resolving his feelings over it. Convincing himself it wasn’t a big deal – because it wasn’t – while he slowly dressed in the button down white shirt and slacks that comprised of his uniform for school. Only after he’d cleaned himself up did he send a message back to his mom. It’s ok. Love you. Be safe. He hadn’t known what more to send. Their message history was the same sort of one liners back and forth.
Status update followed by Zach wishing them well.
Before he could set his phone on the granite counter of the too big kitchen that always made him feel the emptiness of house so keenly, it pinged. For the briefest of moments, he thought maybe his mother had responded.
Message from Will. Lets go out tonite celebrate ur birthday
Friday night. His next door neighbor and childhood friend coming in to the rescue. At least the consideration prompted a smile. Zach almost declined. Going out wasn’t really his style, but with his parent’s message and the subsequent loneliness amplified in his empty home, Zach decided, ‘Why not’.
Sure. Sounds fun.
Plan forming, Zach had a bit of an extra bounce in his step as he left the house and wandered down the long lane to the sidewalk where said friend was waiting for him. Will was everything his parents had hoped he would be, even if they were not there to sculpt him. Tall, athletic. He took after his father’s blonde hair and blue eyes, with a natural charm and smile that dimpled when he was really, really amused. He was easily exotic and popular at their school in the opposite way Zach was.
It was likely their proximity and growing up together that had kept Will as Zach’s friend through all their schooling. Will, being the good person he was, hadn’t abandoned Zach as the blonde grew into his own while Zach… Zach was the sort of different that drew more curiosity and less actual interest. His parents were English, like Will’s, but Zach looked adopted. Pale like he was allergic to the sun with bleached white hair that he’d been accused of dying, Zach hadn’t matched his family from the time he’d been born.
While it had never been said aloud to him, Zach knew his odd appearance that matched none of his family had put some strain on his parents relationship. Too classy or proper to fight in front of him, he’d been left with the impression of so many tense conversations overhead when he was too young to really remember all the words.
“I have just the place to go,” Will said by way of greeting as he fell in step next to Zach. His infectious smile chased away the rest of Zach’s morning mood and replaced it with tentative excitement. Will had gone out a time or two and had always invited Zach. Tonight would be the first time he’d actually be tagging along.
The school day managed to both drag on and go by too quickly. On the bus ride from the school to their stop, Will talked about the club. The music. How he’d get Zach out to dance and what sort of drinks he should try as a ‘first timer’. The sort of confidence his friend spoke of everything settled some of the anxious weight in Zach’s stomach. He would never be as adventurous as Will but there were moments and bouts of wanting to go out, to be included. To experience things. That Will always waited until Zach could take the step – and always asked – had long made it easy for Zach to trust him.
If Will said they were going to have fun, they were.
Zach hadn’t been sure about what to wear but Will had handled that as easily as he did everything else. ‘Something casual.’ Then he’d picked one of Zach’s plain shirts that fit a bit snug and a pair of torn jeans that Will said made him look ‘cute’. Will hadn’t touched his tastefully messy blonde hair and had discarded the tie that went along with their uniform. He wore a simple button down, top two undone, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He managed to seem both casual and… something more that Zach couldn’t put his finger on.
His friend’s easy demeanor about the entire outing soothed any reservations he might’ve still had by the time evening rolled around and they were on another bus toward downtown.
This was an area of Sao Paulo that Zach had never been to. The cramped buildings stacked around them interwoven with streets that felt labyrinthine gave him a sense of being truly displaced. He stuck close to Will, who navigated the bus, the station, the walk – everything with ease. Even if he’d only been this way a handful of times, it felt like he was the veteran guiding Zach through some perilous right of passage. The dark shadows that stretched from the unfamiliar streets accented by neon lights, punctuated by the chatter of crowds outside of choice establishments, only added to the air of new and other.
The best part, though? Everyone was so dressed up, wanting to stick out in some form or fashion, that most only paid Zach and his white hair a glance. If they even did that. He wasn’t on most radar. So many people were so caught up in their night, in the girls in their skirts and sheer clothes, in the guys and their loud conversations and laughter, that he was simply not a factor.
The neon script of Mayhem greeted them over a large industrial building. Music thumped from the interior. The guy at the door greeted Will with a sense of familiarity, money exchanged hands, and they were in.
Getting in seemed too easy.
Will hooked an arm around Zach’s shoulders and steered him toward the bar that dominated one of the walls. There was no point in trying to conversate with the loud music that pulsed through the place. All the people, the sound, the colors. It would have easily been too much if Zach had gone by himself, but this was far more an exciting adventure with Will’s arm guiding him. The black bar top seemed to eat up the lights around them as Will leaned against it and ordered for them.
Only then could the two sit close and survey. Will leaned close so he didn’t have to yell. “I got you something fruity I think you’ll like.”
Once their drinks were in hand, Zach sipped at his cold liquid courage while he surveyed the crowd. To simply be one of them in it… No one paid him any mind. With the small drink more or less gone, Will hooked his arm through Zach’s. With a grin that promised fun, he pulled the smaller man out into the crowd. “Time to dance.”
Zach would never admit to his own theatrics when he was home alone. The sort of bouncing around he did when there was no one to judge. Bolstered by the warmth of his drink, he opted to let go and just have fun. Will had brought him out for his birthday and no one was watching him.
Time blended together in a mess of music and sweat. Of grins exchanged and collective cheers with the crowd when certain recognizable songs were spun together with hard drops. The ebb and flow of the beat dictated the pace of the dances, allowing for brief pauses to gulp down more of the fruity drinks. Eventually Will ordered him some water but it never really registered with Zach.
Early on, Will did catch the attention of some of the other dancers. He’d share some moves with them, allow some touching or do some himself, but he never lingered with anyone long. Any time someone leaned into him, said something, he’d grin and wave them off. Zach couldn’t be sure what it was but he could guess. Will had that sort of effect on people.
All of Zach’s interactions were cursory fun. Easy looks exchanged with other dancers close by who were just as caught up in the music, who would step with him to a song or two, before they’d peel off to something else. None of that bothered him at all. Instead, it was thrilling to make such wordless connections. To enjoy a moment with someone in such a rush. His breath might come quick from all the dancing, but it didn’t catch in his throat until someone actually pressed close.
The heat of someone pressed all along his back actually stilts his movements. He can’t see too well over his shoulder but the breath on the side of his neck is so close. Incredibly personal. But not exactly odd at this place. Not wanting to needlessly freak out, Zach doesn’t say anything. Not initially. Not until his newfound friend holds his hips and mentions that he smells good.
The voice is a little rough, right against his ear. Though he shivered, it’s not in a way that is pleasant. There’s a brief moment when Zach tries to step away when the hands don’t release him, when panic catches his throat and there’s a wild thought that he’ll somehow be trapped on the dance floor.
Then Will is there. The hands let go. His friends studies Zach a long moment before he leans in. “It’s getting late. Let’s head home.”
It doesn’t feel like they’re really calling it early. Zach’s legs do ache from the dancing and he’s sticky with sweat. If anything, the encounter is quickly forgotten as they walk out into the cooler night and Will asks if he enjoyed himself. Zach’s reenergized, bouncing a little as he replays the night’s events to his friend who was there for the whole thing.
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