Man who sold the world

Upon entering his house he realised just how empty it was. His mother had left when he was three, and ever since his father would waste away in front of the tv, a beer in his grasp. He often wondered if the reason behind his poverty was his fathers terrible addiction. It wasn;t hard to see it was.

Now that the tv was off he finally saw how beaten up it was. Scratches covered nearly the whole screen, along with some dents, no doubt from the remote. His father was indeed notorious for his temper. He never had a chance to touch the damn thing, his father had a full time job and yet he never left that seat. He caught himself missing the scratchy sound of the speakers. The silence was proof enough he was alone.

  It was a relief to hear a familiar bark.

“Rust, come here boy.” Rust was a large, old English sheepdog. He’d found him in his bin outside his house 3 years ago, surprisingly, his father didn’t seem to mind when he brought him home.Well that's what he had thought. Now, he too had scars from his fathers cold wrath.

The dog hobbled over to him with an obvious limp that had been there ever since his father cut his foot off with an army knife in a fit of rage. He relished the warm fur on his freezing hands.  

The stairs creaked violently with age as he walked up them, the rotten wood threatening to break under his feet. The house was the oldest in the neighbourhood, they were all rundown, just his especially. He almost lost his balance when he heard the phone ring downstairs,jumping on the spot. 

Descending with great care, he walked into the kitchen and placed the phone to his ear, the cord dropping to his feet.He waited for a few moments before he stood in silent shock when he heard who was on the other end of the line.

“Norman?” Antony’s voice went unanswered but certainly not unheard.

“Norman, are you there?” He tried to find the right words but they never came. He stood listening to him on the other line, his mind going numb.

“Alright i’m hanging up goodb-

“No no! I’m here, I'm just..surprised, that's all.” He waited for a response, nervously biting the inside of his cheek.

“Okay. Well I was just wondering if you wanted to get a drink. In twenty minutes or so?” A flush of relief washed over him at his words, he didn’t despise him. Well it seemed as though. Perhaps this was a trap and he was going to beat him bloody.

Perhaps he was just used to that.

“Norman you there?”

“Yes… I mean sure I'll be there.” His voice was shaking slightly. He prayed he couldn’t hear it through the phone.

“Alright meet me there.”

“Where.” He stood feeling slightly awkward at his question.Had he said already, had he missed it? Was he already fucking this up?

“Oh right of course...uhm..i suppose we are underage” There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments and Norman was sure he’d hung up. “The lake?”

“Sure.”

A bitter February wind whipped through the air, sharp and relentless, pushing against him with an almost physical force. He instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold onto whatever warmth he could muster, but the chill seemed to seep into his bones.

The lake before him was barely visible through the thin layer of fog that hung like a veil over its surface, the water eerily still and obscured by the mist. The whole scene felt otherworldly, as if the fog had swallowed up everything but the haunting silence. In the distance, he saw a familiar figure,Antony, standing alone, his lean form silhouetted against the pale backdrop. As he walked closer, the faint glow of a cigarette illuminated the edge of Antony's lips, a small, fleeting light in the grey world around them.

He nodded in acknowledgment as he approached, but neither of them spoke immediately. They stood side by side, the space between them heavy with an unspoken tension. Norman could feel the weight of it pressing down, suffocating him in its silence, and he struggled to think of something, anything, to say. Every word seemed inadequate, as though nothing could bridge the distance that had grown between them.

He was on the verge of turning away, retreating to the icy waters of the lake, just to escape the discomfort of this moment when Antony broke the silence.

“I want you to know I don’t blame you,” Antony’s voice was quiet but steady, the words hanging in the cold air. “I know my mother does. But I can’t help that I still want to be your friend.”

Norman’s breath caught in his chest, the words landing harder than he expected. He stood there, frozen for a moment, the shock of what Antony had said settling in. His mind raced, trying to find the right response, but nothing seemed to fit. Antony shifted uneasily beside him, his fingers fumbling with the collar of his coat as if the action could somehow erase the awkwardness that had settled between them.

“This is stupid,” Antony muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he began to turn away, his steps tentative but resolute. It was as if he was retreating, preparing to leave everything unsaid.

But Norman couldn’t let it end like that. His voice cut through the cold air, firm and full of something he hadn’t realized he was holding onto.

“Antony!”

Antony stopped dead in his tracks, his shoulders stiffening as he turned back, his face unreadable. Norman swallowed hard, the words finally coming out, steady but filled with more emotion than he’d intended. “I never stopped being your friend.”

They sat by the lake for a long while after that, the air still sharp but more comfortable now in the quiet company they shared. The tension that had once hung between them had melted away, replaced by an unspoken understanding. The fog had lifted, and with it, the heaviness that had clouded their relationship.

They were simply two kids again, side by side, the way things had once been before everything changed. Every so often, they exchanged glances, their eyes meeting in silent acknowledgment, and each time, a small smile would pull at the corners of their mouths. Antony even let out a soft laugh at something Norman said, the sound light and genuine. It felt good, too good, almost, as if they were picking up the pieces of a friendship that had never truly broken, only paused.

“I missed you,” Antony said, the words quiet but full of sincerity.

Norman took a moment before he answered, the weight of the words hanging between them. “Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice softer than usual, as though he were still trying to process the fact that they were here again, together.

There was a brief pause, a comfortable silence that spoke volumes, and then Antony shifted slightly, turning toward Norman. “Let’s hang out here more,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

Their eyes met, and in that brief moment, it felt like time slowed. The look they shared was more than just a casual glance—it held something deeper, something almost longing, a silent question neither of them had dared to ask aloud.

The air between them seemed charged, as if something unspoken was lingering, ready to be acknowledged. Without even thinking, Norman leaned in, his body moving almost of its own accord, drawn to the magnetic pull between them.

The kiss was sudden, almost urgent, and yet it was tender, as if neither of them could quite believe what was happening. Antony’s lips were soft against his, tasting faintly of the cigarette he had just smoked. The warmth of his skin, the closeness, all felt surreal, and for a moment, Norman was lost in the sensation.

The suddenness of it made him gasp, the sharp intake of breath catching him off guard, and the sound of it seemed to reverberate between them, making his stomach twist in a mix of surprise and something deeper, something that felt like relief. It was short, just a fleeting connection, but in those few seconds, everything that had been unsaid seemed to fall into place.

Antony pulled back first, his breath uneven, his eyes wide for a split second before his expression softened. Norman stayed still, caught between the echo of the kiss and the reality of what had just happened. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching out, but it was no longer uncomfortable. It felt natural, as though they had always been meant to be in this space together, however complicated it might be.

Several moments of silence passed until any of them said anthing, it was Antony.
“I’m not a-”

“I know.”The tension was so suffocating he nearly gasped for air. “How about we just get some food at that shitty burger place tomorrow.” Antony didn’t look at him.

“Yeah..sure.”

He dressed in his nicest shirt and high waisted trousers with a brown belt. Yes it was a shitty burger place but he didn’t care, it was a date, for him at least.

He tried to contain his brown mane of hair but in the end it was no use so he let it spike from his head at all angles.The walk there was short which he was grateful for, he did not need time to reflect on his actions right now. When he entered he immediately noticed the lack of music and it bothered him, he liked eating greasy food with a tune in the background.

He walked towards the jukebox and was deciding to pick a song when the door opened. He locked eyes with him almost instantly. His black hair was slicked back, a few pieces going rogue. He had a leather jacket on and blue jeans that complemented his eyes nicely.  He put his change in, not caring what song came on before walking eagerly towards him.

They sat down at their table sitting opposite to each other. He couldn’t help notice how their ankles were touching as he tried to concentrate on the menu. The waitress stood with her note book, impatiently eyeing the two of them. She had a pink checked dress on, hair in a bun, unlit cigarette behind her ear.

“Uh the classic..please..and a Dr Pepper.”

“Same.” The waitress rolled her eyes.

“Anything else?” She asked in a monotone voice.They both shook their heads.Under the table he tapped his foot to the unfamiliar song. It was good, he liked it. 

Oh no, not me

We never lost control

You're face to face

With the man who sold the world

Antony obviously noticed “It's Bowie, my favourite if you must ask. Do you want to dance?” His eyes shot up to meet his 

“Here?”

 He nodded. Getting up from their booth they walked towards the jukebox finding an empty enough space. It was innocent really, just two blokes in a burger place dancing, maybe slightly closer than socially acceptable . He was mesmerised by every inch of him.

The Yellowish lighting from the ceiling lamps illuminated his face perfectly as he swayed to the music. He was about to step even closer to him when someone interrupted them.

“Hey you fucking pussy’s! Get out!” The voice came from a large bald man in the corner, the only other customer. Antony physically paled, his lips turned into a sneer.

“Shut your filthy fucking mouth.” Antony stepped closer to him, the music droning on in the background.

“Whatcha gonna do eh? Fight me with those lady fists?” The man laughed, his mouth wide open showing off his mush of dinner inside. Antony had had enough. He stalked towards the now standing man, rolling his sleeves up his arm.

“Ant-” He tried, but his fist was already bruising the man's eye. He pulled it back for another one but the bald man didn’t take long to retaliate. His large fist hit directly onto Antony's jaw, making him stumble back a few steps.

“You two are just filthy fa-” Antony was steady once again and his fist made contact with his large cheeks.

“Hey! Out, both of you!” The waitress was back behind the counter, pointing at the two of them. The other man was, by the looks of him, a regular, probably their only means of business, he couldn’t blame her for letting him stay. Antony stalked out of the bar, him close behind.

They walked for a while, Antony still in front.

“Hey Antony.” he kept walking, his pace not even faltering.

“Just sit down for a second, you took quite a hit.” He finally stopped. He exhaled, his breath cloudy in the biting cold night. He turned on his heel and sat on the wall of an old church. Norman walked over, inspecting the wound on his jaw before talking out a handkerchief from his jacket. He started wiping slowly where it was bleeding ,the skin split.

“This used to be your job.” Antony laughed a breathy laugh although there was no humour in it.

“I’m sorry I got us kicked out.” He was looking down now, his hands playing with the edge of his shirt. “We didn’t even get our food..”

“It worked out well , really. I used all of the money on that stupid song anyway.” This time his laugh was genuine, a sound he cherished.

“I liked that song.”

“Yeah, same.” They stared into each other's eyes for a heartbeat before he cupped his face and kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or unusual this time, it was nice. They stayed in each other's embrace for a long time after that.