Stereo Blast Volume 1 [MxM]

Chapter 7.1

Taylor slid from the corner of the crumbling building, shielded by the shadows, and crept across the street to get a better view of Tike’s. The glowing neon signs—the one with the signature vampire babe and the one with the girl spreading her legs—were on bright display. He glanced up at them, locking eyes were the seductive woman. She gazed down at him, her finger tucked between her parted lips. The look on her face commanded him to her and even though she was just an art piece, Taylor was still struck by the gaze. He looked away and to the front of the building.

He should have known Tike was throwing another party. He threw one almost every night—any time he could afford to do so. From what Taylor could see, the party consisted of no one he knew, but he had a feeling Ryan was in there. He’d already passed by Ryan’s apartment and had found it empty and undisturbed. After their fight, it hadn’t taken Taylor more than twenty minutes to cool down and realize how wrong he’d been. It had been too late by then and he couldn’t find Ryan around his apartment by the time he’d come to his senses. Now, facing the loud party infested with druggies and wanna-be-types, he was struck with the empty feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t fear. He was never scared. But it was daunting to think about what he would say too Ryan once he found him.

If he found Ryan in here, latched to Tike, he would explode. The mere thought of Ryan running away from Taylor to the arms of Tike made his blood boil. But he had to step back from the picture. The reason they’d fought and the reason he was in the situation because of his anger. If he kept letting it get the better of him then he would ruin his and Ryan’s friendship.

Just talking himself out of his rage wasn’t enough to cease the flames in his gut. His hands tightened into fists at his side. He gritted his teeth and took the first step across the street and towards the party.

He stuck out with his black clothing and his beat up boots. He wasn’t fashionable like Ryan and had never had the urge to step into that side of the city. While Ryan liked to show off in color and meddle on the fine line of masculinity, Taylor had stuck to things that were comfortable and were widely available. He wore jeans, a black long-sleeve t-shirt, and a black pullover hoodie. Paired with his black boots, his dirty blond hair, and stoic face, he was a striking contrast to the party goers. Various colors of pants, shorts, and skirts—even in the freezing weather—as well as shredded shirts and bright colored hair, were thrown along each person. Another thing Taylor noticed was the makeup everyone seemed to be wearing. Their grins, ranging from lustful to playful, were painted with lipstick that looked like the one Ryan had worn days ago.

These were Ryan’s people—it was evident in the fashion and the almost giddy atmosphere the party let off.

He had to be here. Taylor could almost feel him here, somewhere close and the entire building was pulling him to find Ryan. The feeling pushed the anger and hostility away. He walked up to the entry and past a group of people who hadn’t noticed him. They were oblivious up to the point when he opened the door and stepped through into a different world. He could feel their eyes, curious, burning into his back and all over his body. They took him in with their hungry eyes. He felt small under their gaze and though Ryan was wrong about him being short, he noticed many of the people hear wore heels.

His boots gave him height, but he had to look up and over the heads of the sea of people to see further into the shop. Plastic cups of beer, soda, and other liquor tainted drinks were passed around. No one seemed to know what they were drinking, only downing and eating what they were handed. Drugs—pills were thrown back, joints were passed, and needles were stored on the counter—were prominent. The music was turned up high, the bass shaking the windows and had Taylor’s heart beating in time with it. He felt pressure at the front of his forehead. He clenched his hand to fight the urge to press his hand to his temple.

He pushed his way to the back of the shop, ignoring the pulls by a couple of dancers, not even sparing them a look. The gazes were growing in number now. He felt like he was being watched by everyone in the room. Being the center of attention was Ryan’s thing. He knew how to counter react it. He knew how to turn the tables away from himself. All Taylor knew how to do was punch the s**t out of the looker until they physically couldn’t. There were over fifty people here and though he would like to think he could take all of them, he knew better than to start a fight he couldn’t finish.

As he made it to the counter, he turned to scan the crowd. With how many people had dyed their hair an unnatural color, it wouldn’t be too hard to pick out Ryan from the crowd. His brown curly hair was easy to spot, especially with Taylor’s good eyesight. But it was still hard. The lights had been turned down and he had to rely on the pink and blue neon lights that were spread across the room’s walls. The mass of dancing bodies were a constant blur and as they moved back and forth, Taylor followed the lines as best as he could. He didn’t see Ryan or Tike here and they weren’t where the drinks were either.