Page 79 of Dark Room Junkie

She was nothing special. Absolutely average! Totally normal and boring. She wasn’t even close to being a match for Noé! She was way too ... ordinary!

Why did he do that?

And suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks. How blind I was not to see the obvious.

Yes, Michelle was ordinary; probably nice. And completely predictable. Because that was exactly Noé’s tactic. He chose people who were easy to read. Women who were sweet and maybe didn’t have such a strong sense of self-worth. And with the men, he picked those who let him fuck them. If it was indeed true that he wormed his way into a bed this way, then the choice of his partners was solely about maintaining control.

I was the mistake.

Every time we had sex, we engaged in a silent battle because neither of us wanted to be outdone. And yet, he was the one who ultimately gave in. And, God, the sex was good! Every time! Just the memory of it was making me hard again.

At least everything down there is still normal.

But in my heart, chaos erupted.Damn it!I had confessed my love to Noé. The first time when I was totally high, and even the second time, after the concert, I was overwhelmed with excitement, but it was the truth. I had opened my heart to the guy and wanted him to be around me all the time.

What an idiot I am. All he wants from me is a warm bed and sex.

Or vice versa—sex and a warm bed.

I don’t know.

Or does he consider sex as some kind of payment?

Shit, I hope not.

The longer I thought about Noé, the more painful the feeling in my chest became. Gradually, I believed I was seeing through his game. And as crushing as the truth seemed, I was even more convinced that what we had together was still real.

The door suddenly opened, and Corinne walked in. Her swollen red eyes suggested she had been crying all night, but I had no energy to deal with it. I turned to face the other side, hoping she would leave. But she just came around the bed, sobbing, and sat down on the chair where Martin had been sitting. I was glad she didn’t say anything, but as she moved closer and took my hand, tears gathered in my eyes again. I almost managed not to fall back into the role of the disturbed boy, but unfortunately, not entirely.

24

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Noé

I stood on the small stage at Hyde and played the bass while grappling with the disappointment that Alex hadn’t shown up again today. It had been three weeks since we had talked after the release concert by the river. Ever since I went home with Michelle, there had been radio silence between us. Not that I had ever replied to any of his messages, but before that, he had at least tried to contact me a few times.

I was fully aware that I had screwed it up. And yet, I was at a loss. I didn’t know what I could have done differently. Everything about him attracted me, but at the same time, so much about him was wrong. Since he wasn’t here, I assumed he was at some chemsex party. He didn’t reach out anymore, so maybe his declaration of love was just empty words. And meanwhile, I was completely beside myself.

Actually, I shouldn’t care what happened to him. I had done the right thing by going home with Michelle. The risk would have been too great to stay with him. I was trying to build a life here, and with Nightrain, there was finally a silver lining on the horizon. But first, I had to survive the winter.

Why does everything always have to be such a damn struggle?

Even my fingers didn’t seem to cooperate, but I managed to correct the mistakes each time and didn’t lose the beat. While my bandmates still noticed, at least they took it with humor. And I was glad it was the third and final set. The following week, we had our last concert at Hyde, then it was time for the Christmas break.

As soon as the song ended, I fled to the dressing room. I felt like I was buzzing with electricity. Thoughts about Alex were spinning nonstop, and I couldn’t believe how much they haunted me.

“What was up with you?” Patrick asked, putting his guitar in its case.

I just shook my head and went to the sink, where I splashed my face with water.

“It wasn’t that bad,” the guitarist said and went back into the club.

I leaned on the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. Despite having shaved and showered, I still looked like a wreck. I had bags under my eyes, and everything seemed to hurt. The past three weeks had been tough, and I had tried with all my might to return to normalcy. I had visited Steffan three times, Sabrina twice, and even reached out to a few new acquaintances.

On Wednesday, Tom felt compelled to intervene, so he told Mia and dragged me to his place after rehearsal, where I had been spending the last three days on his couch. The thought of going home today had been weighing on me for two days already. Tom had offered to let me wash my clothes at his place, but I had politely declined. After two weeks, it was overdue to check on things at home. But the mere thought of it made me sick.

Before descending into a downward spiral, I took a moment to wipe my face, tie my hair back neatly, put on a smile, and headed out to join the others at the bar. Chris and Marco were sitting at the counter, engaged in conversation with Tom and Patrick, while Pablo sat nearby, drinking a beer.

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