Page 16 of Brainwashed
More minutes, and my mystery man’s voice shivers, “Is it always this freezing in here?”
I nod, but say nothing. And I can’t tell for sure, but I think he called me astubborn prick.
My grin beams while I lie back down on my side, the exhaustion of starvation and dehydration setting in. My eyelids are heavy as I watch the wall separating us, wondering so much about my new friend.
Is he tall? Is his hair soft? Does he smell good?
Does he have muscles? Tattoos? Does he like 80’s music?
Did his parents love him? Does the sight of blood give him the tingles like it does to me?
I wonder so many things about him, I eventually fall asleep. Nothing happens, though. I still haven’t dreamt since before I was arrested… Even with the sex-voiced stranger on the other side of the wall hijacking my brain.
I wake up at the sound of his voice. He saidhello, but I don’t think he was talking to me. He sounds farther away, like he’s looking out the door to his cell. Sitting up, I hope maybe they’re bringing some food or water. But I don’t hear anyone. No footsteps, no keys, no doors.
Just silence and my next-door stranger pacing. He comes back to the wall and starts humming a song.Crimson and Clover.He’s singing itin between talking to himself, and it’s just as entertaining as speaking with him, to be honest. Listening while he names lists of things is certainly helping to pass the time.
I think hours have gone by the time he raps tiredly on the wall and says, “My name’s Dash.”
Biting down on my lip to contain my sleepy smile, I close my eyes.Dash. His name is sexy, too.
“Glad you came around,” I tell him. “I’m Felix.”
Dash is quiet for a moment before he says, “Felix… I’m gonna need you to distract me. I’m sorta freaking out in here.”
I choose not to tell him he doesn’t know the half of it. I don’t want to upset him.
“I can do that,” I breathe. “Do you like sports?”
“Sort of,” he tells me. “I’m Russian, so I like hockey and soccer most.”
I chuckle. “Are those sports that Russians like?”
“I guess,” he laughs. “My dad liked them.”
“I think soccer is okay. What about football?”
“It’s alright, but New York football teams are bullshit.”
“Agreed,” I chuckle. “The Giants are decent, I guess. But I’m from Connecticut, so I’m supposed to like the Patriots.”
“Let’s move on from that, Felix. I want to like you.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it has me inching closer to the wall.
My fingers brush the concrete separating us. “Do you speak Russian?”
“Mhm.” My dick twitches hard just from him grunting those two syllables.
Licking my lip, I remind myself to chill.Typical Felix, getting swept up in a total stranger.
Hasn’t this always been the issue? You’re fucking desperate…
I scoff at my own inner scolding and ask, “Will you say something in Russian?”
Dash is quiet for a moment before he says, “Eto real’naya zhizn’ eto prosto fantastika?”
I pinch my lower lip between my fingers. “What does it mean?”
“It’s the first line ofBohemian Rhapsody.” He laughs out loud.
