[Aaron]

*~*~*

But I'm weak, and what's wrong with that?

Boy, oh boy I love it when I fall for that

I'm weak, and what's wrong with that?

Boy, oh boy I love you when I fall for that.

I'm weak.

-- Weak, AJR

*~*~*

I don't know what' going on in that sexy head of his, but he needs to chill the fuck out. I'm glad he walked out before I placed more accusations on him. He doesn't deserve the stress and neither do I, he's clearly in enough shit before I came, that argument just made it worse. Whatever is happening in his head won't automatically transfer to mine, I can't expect him to do anything that he isn't comfortable with, but this is really taking a toll on my brain cells.

Does he like me? Clearly not enough even if he does, he admits that he still loves Owen. I'm probably some fuck and dump case. And I'm not even repulsed by it.

I've always had an inclination towards females, but being taken care of feels great. I guess it's because I am normally in control of so many things that I assume that translates to romantic relationships. I'm no control freak but when it comes to work, the obligation is something I can't shake off.

This is all too complicated, exhibit A for why I never look for dates.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't h-have showed up..." Owen whispers, he sets a steaming cup of coffee, it isn't from a vending machine, so he must've went to a coffee shop. Poor kid is still shivering. "I'll leave after I say hi..."

Owen is far too shy, and very self conscious. He doesn't get that the things he's been through is not normal, and he discredits himself way too often. He doesn't speak about it but I know he used to hurt himself, not sure if he does anymore but he has no perception of self worth whatsoever.

"I meant what I said just now, none of this is your fault Owen. It's not your fault that he's not willing to speak about himself." The plastic chair is very uncomfortable, and I'm glad that this is a day off for me, because I really just feel like lounging but seeing Owen so uncomfortable at my place I just suggested we go shopping.

Owen grips his juice tight, and brings his knees up to his chest. I take my coat off and drape it over his shoulders. He thanks me in form of a smile, a very meaningful smile. It's strange how just from facial expression you can differentiate people's sincerity. How does the brain even begin to interpret that? I'll never know. Just like how I will never know what Roman is thinking.

"I'm sorry if this makes you upset, but I think you should know this. Roman has never been a very vocal person... the only time he looks like what he feels is... um... during sex... otherwise he never says anything. We were together for a couple of years, I know he loved me but he never says it out loud. It's more in form of little gifts or making nice dinner..." Owen sighs, "I guess it's just his own way of saying it. So don't get upset if he doesn't speak much."

Owen's got a point. Not everyone expresses themselves the same way, and his experience with Roman is far greater than I have. I've already experienced the lust part of the deal, he did make me dinner once and bought me that necklace. But it was one time thing. So is there still something going on? Or is this just a ruse to make himself happy?

I'm not upset about the fact that he doesn't say things out loud though. I'm upset he expects me to know something is wrong, I'm not a mind reader and I have a busy schedule, he can't expect me to set up a date every time. If he asked I would've made time for him. Maybe I'm not enough?

I ask all these questions, but I'm never going to get answers because a specific someone doesn't like communication.

"You know what Owen. I'm pretty sure it's over between him and I. Don't know if I should tell you this but Roman said he's still in love with you." I shrug, taking a sip of the coffee. "So I never had a chance to begin with."

"H-he said that?" His eyes drown in tears, then it spills like an overfilled dam. "I'm sorry, I'm such a home wrecker... I never should have dated him..."

Now I feel like an asshole for making him cry.

His breathing is audible, scratch that, he's panting. Fuck. "No no no. Get off!" Skylar yells from the other side of the door, Felix comes out and drops to his knees instantly when he reaches Owen. He takes Owen's hand and starts unclenching it before drawing circles on his palm. From here I can hear that Skylar's voice is scratchy, see that he has bruises everywhere and his skin looks pale.

"Breathe in as I finish the circle. And breath out when I start a new one."

Then reality hit me, I just fucked up big time.

"Skylar, let Felix handle it alright? Trust him." Sebastien says calmly before pushing Skylar back onto the bed. That undoubtedly shuts him up, trust and Felix make for the ultimate combo. Even I have to admit that he is very trust worthy.

Owen follows Felix's instructions, he seems like an expert at this. Meanwhile, I just sit next to Owen, tired and fed up with everything. Nothing seems to be going well recently, and I'm not even trying to make it seem like it's someone else's fault, not even Roman. My head just isn't clear and I need something to distract me.

Sebastien swaps places with Felix, the self proclaimed old man guides Owen away to somewhere less public. I will apologize later, I know whatever Sebastien has to say will be therapeutic. I've been there. "Are you fucking crazy?! Why did you think it's a great idea to argue in front of Skylar's room? He has pneumonia you fucker!" Felix scolds, not too loudly since it would be hypocritical, though, I doubt he cares at this point.

It's amazing how tables can turn and I can be in the wrong for almost everything in a blink of an eye. Maybe that's just me trying to take the blame but I can't help but to do it. I mean, there isn't another person around that can coax me into sanity, because quite frankly, I should be able to handle myself.

But I can't and don't want to.

"I'll leave." I say shakily. Depressed would be playing it easy on myself, I'm a mixture of things right now, none of which are healthy for my mind. Of course, my phone decides to go up in a storm at that moment. I ignore whatever Felix has to say, and walk out with him hightailing me. I just want Skylar to be fine, but no, of course I'm not even allowed to be outside the room.

The contact number shows 'mom'. I'm just about to slam the phone on the ground, but I decide against it, smashing my phone won't do anything. It'll just make my life harder.

This is one of those moments where, despite all the noise and going-ons around me, not to mention the terrible storm ripping the town a new one just meters away from the roofed off front patio, my head blocks them out and I get overrun by thoughts. This is all so dramatic, like some soap opera where characters have no motifs to do anything, they are just dumb asses making mistakes. I feel so powerless and empty.

Like I said, status and power doesn't do much if there isn't something else stable in life. Nothing is stable, inside and out, I'm just a wreck. I just want to be knocked out and sleep until this is resolved. But I always have to be the one to take initiative. It feels like I'm the only one valuing anything, other people are in it for the people they actually give a shit about. I.e. not Aaron Solomon.

"Mister Aaron!" A shrill voice yells, she jumps up and down and grip my legs. It is Paris, asshole extraordinaire's sister. "H-how is Mr. Cookie? I-i-is he s-s-safe?" She cries, her grip is awfully strong for a child. Behind her, stood asshole extraordinaire's sperm and egg donors, just the disinterested look on their faces make me want to get violent. But they must know about me, because the way they approach me is the epitome of what I'd like to call the 'kiss up strut'. Hands rubbing together, sound of heels and dress shoes against a hard surface and a presence of an all but pleasant quiet chuckle.

"You must be Mr. Solomon. Nice to meet you." The father holds out his hand, I don't get why these two midgets birthed a 6"7' steel statue, but I hope they regret themselves after the conversation I'm about to have. Or I just hope that the mother has a vagina the size of a vortex. This day is just filled to the brim with arguments.

"Yes we met before. At the primary school carnival." I plaster up the best smile I can, the more genuine the better. Fucking fall over from my wrath for all I care. Strike one. They stand with smiles on their faces, but a frown accompanying it, making an almost constipated look. It's fitting, really, considering they have their heads up their asses in great persistency and their brains are what one would call 'dipshit'. So, I suppose the fact that they couldn't get their heads out of their ass must present some sort of proverbial unstable bowl movement. Or low self consciousness.

"O-oh! Right!" The mother chimes in, Paris stands next to her father silently. "Nice event... wasn't it honey?"

"Yes, yes. It was quite the spectacle indeed." That is not what spectacle means, but I will let it slide. Note to self, illiteracy of Roman stems from parents. "I really wish we could have met under better circumstances. Perhaps a coffee?"

"No! I need to see Mr. Cookie!" Paris grabs at her mother's hand. Being the perfect parent, she ignores her.

"I'd rather not, I'm here to visit a close friend. You know, care about people in need." I thought the subliminal message is enough for the slightest hint of guilt, but no, they either have dense skulls or lack a soul. Oh right, their heads are still up there. Option D 'All of the above'.

They look at each other still smiling, "Is it that your child is my daughter's friend? Quite unusual for her to know of you. Not that you aren't well known."

This is fucking exquisite. I'm starting to turn into the devil.

"Oh no, I was with Roman the other day at the carnival, met this little princess there." The mention of Roman has them freezing. They better get a good explanation, I am going to end them otherwise. "I have to say, you raised such a nice son. Very handsome man, courteous and caring." Strike two. I see Felix lurking, he glares at me but I only stare in his direction, hopefully he doesn't wreck this. I need to channel my anger and this is the only way to do it civilly.

"T-t-thank you..."

"No such need. But it seems as though you haven't gotten the memo." I step closer, "29 year old men have feelings too. Don't you agree? I'd say meeting so many people around the world would do you two some good in empathy." I back up, ready to leave. "Next time before you ruin a child's life. Contact my office, I'll be more than happy to adopt." Third strike, out. My hand reaches for a business card, placing it gently in the mother's hand.

Feels fucking fantastic to nail those ass wipes in the gut.

I kneel and face Paris, "Mr. Cookie is in room 4017. I can take you, come on." She gently places her hand in mine and we walk off. I feel like I'm walking away from a nuclear explosion, I just need sunglasses now.

~

"Evening, Skylar." I whisper, careful not to wake him if he's asleep. He's been moved into a private room that I am more than happy to pay for. Whatever he needs to recover, seeing him this was is the worst. He forces his light to shine but it only flickers weakly.

"Aaron... Are you and Roman alright?" He asks immediately after opening his eyes, his family is out getting dinner. Owen is sitting next to his bed on a laptop, probably something to do with the pet shelter.

"This isn't about me now, is it. I brought someone." He goes to speak but stops when Paris stands close to his bed.

"I-I'm sorry Mr. Cookie... I did-didn't mean to break the rules... Sorry..." She apologies tearfully. I leave them to it, not moving too far away from them but far enough for privacy. Owen notices me and shuts his laptop before walking over to me.

"I heard the argument with Roman's parents..." He states shy as a tortoise. He must still think I am angry with him or something. But obviously that isn't the case, I can't be mad at someone when it isn't their fault. Unlike some people that just think it's so cool being strong and firm. What's wrong with being weak? It's not like there isn't anyone to catch his fall. In fact, I'll fucking trip my way over to his apartment should he ever need me. But no, he's too proud for my bullshit.

"Yeah. I guess they were willing victims for my emotional release. They shouldn't have shown themselves, just made it worse when they started kissing up on me." I shake my head in disbelief, there is no way people can be so dimwitted to believe that they can fuck up a child's life and be fine with it. Let alone their child.

"Do you love Roman?" He asks quietly, a very meaningful question that I, unfortunately, don't have an answer to. We went through the puppy love stage, now what? Do we fall apart and never speak to each other again? That'd be too easy now, wouldn't it? I'm 30 and I can earnestly say that falling in love is not what one might define 'easy'.

I scratch my stubble, scratch that, beard. I haven't shaved in a week and I'm not about to do it at this point in time. "I don't think so. I'm just some charity case for him, that whole one week boyfriend thing. It was going to pass and I don't have the mind to extend it."

"R-really? What you said to his parents... that's... very brave of you." He pulls his hood over his head and plays with the drawstrings. "I think you are in love with him."

"Whatever the case is, if he's not willing to change something around here, I'm not going to make amends because I feel used."

"I believe that's not his intention. Roman... has issues, but who doesn't..." He looks up, his face slightly flushed from the cold, and his hood done up tight to a point he might as well be Kenny from South Park. I can tell why Roman fell in love with him. He's like a very, very mild version of Skylar. Everything toned down to a zero, mellow and quiet. Just like that apathetic sack of ass. Firm, sexy ass.

Perhaps, I'm just royally fucked up in the head? That's probably the most truth there is in this whole dramatic day.

"He can go fuck himself if he thinks I'll go running back to him. I'm not letting him destroy the friendship I built with you." I'd like to say I know Owen as a person, but really, I don't, he's a mysterious figure. One with a tainted past, much like most of us. But, difference is, he is weaker with others around. He is strongest when he is alone.

Maybe I should just send Sebastien to Roman's apartment.

"I... I agree that he needs to communicate better."

The old man made me realize that there is only so much a person can endure,

"Yeah, you fucking tell me."

Sometimes a little relaxation won't demolish my productivity.

"But... if this silent treatment works... Roman will come back to you, I am sure."

Everyone is a little weak, inside or outside.

"Why would he? If it were up to him, that'd probably be 2 decades from now when I'm all old and wrinkly."

And I am weak, what's wrong with that?

"I think Roman is in love with you too."

Really. Really. Weak.

Weakly in love.

With one stupid asswipe of a man.