The worst part about this con was school. He was used to buffers in small doses, used to pulling quick in and out cons and getting back on the road, but this was different. Going to school with them, pretending to be friends with them, it all meant hiding his utter contempt for them.
For this. The money, the privilege of living under three million dollar roofs, expecting a future of going to hundred thousand dollar a year colleges, everything. He hated them for what they had, but it wasn’t because he wanted it, he just didn’t get the point. Why bother? Why get so tied down to a life that consumes you, that wraps you in an endless web of responsibility and commitment until freedom is a word tossed around at election time, something that other peoples’ kids die for, but you never really understand.
He missed being free. He missed the road, traveling. He was used to slipping in and passing long enough to get away with it, but there was no end in sight here, and the longer he lived like this the more claustrophobic he felt. Some nights he slept in the empty pool just to have room to stretch, to get some air and see the stars.
He didn’t do well being closed in. Roman seemed to know that. He was new, had only been in school this week, but he’d immediately become preoccupied with him. Cael had no fucking clue why, it wasn’t like he had a giant sign on his forehead that read fraud. But he was paranoid that he did, that something gave him away, that his contempt had bled through and Roman could smell it on him, just knew he didn’t belong. They were long past the time when they should have cut and run, gotten back on the road… he knew this was coming. It was rule three, cash out before you pass out. They were in over their heads.
At least, Cael was, now.
Roman was tall, half a foot taller than he was, and he was dangerous. During gym, he’d been too close, in his space, and Cael was on edge. He wanted nothing more than for Roman to keep his fucking distance, but he wasn’t. It was like he was unable to stop pushing, and Cael felt the strings inside him snapping one by one until he was dangling, dangerously close to out of control.
Roman was pushing every last button he had, and the truth was that Cael’s temper really didn’t live far below the surface. He wasn’t violent, really, but Roman nailed it with his insult. Like a street rat, if he was cornered long enough, he’d attack to save his skin and get away.
He’d been fine to ignore him until then, until he called him a rat, until he pushed him too far.
“Oh, yeah? I bet you know what cock smells like, too, with enough of it on your fucking breath, faggot.”
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2013-11-03 05:43 am (UTC)For this. The money, the privilege of living under three million dollar roofs, expecting a future of going to hundred thousand dollar a year colleges, everything. He hated them for what they had, but it wasn’t because he wanted it, he just didn’t get the point. Why bother? Why get so tied down to a life that consumes you, that wraps you in an endless web of responsibility and commitment until freedom is a word tossed around at election time, something that other peoples’ kids die for, but you never really understand.
He missed being free. He missed the road, traveling. He was used to slipping in and passing long enough to get away with it, but there was no end in sight here, and the longer he lived like this the more claustrophobic he felt. Some nights he slept in the empty pool just to have room to stretch, to get some air and see the stars.
He didn’t do well being closed in. Roman seemed to know that. He was new, had only been in school this week, but he’d immediately become preoccupied with him. Cael had no fucking clue why, it wasn’t like he had a giant sign on his forehead that read fraud. But he was paranoid that he did, that something gave him away, that his contempt had bled through and Roman could smell it on him, just knew he didn’t belong. They were long past the time when they should have cut and run, gotten back on the road… he knew this was coming. It was rule three, cash out before you pass out. They were in over their heads.
At least, Cael was, now.
Roman was tall, half a foot taller than he was, and he was dangerous. During gym, he’d been too close, in his space, and Cael was on edge. He wanted nothing more than for Roman to keep his fucking distance, but he wasn’t. It was like he was unable to stop pushing, and Cael felt the strings inside him snapping one by one until he was dangling, dangerously close to out of control.
Roman was pushing every last button he had, and the truth was that Cael’s temper really didn’t live far below the surface. He wasn’t violent, really, but Roman nailed it with his insult. Like a street rat, if he was cornered long enough, he’d attack to save his skin and get away.
He’d been fine to ignore him until then, until he called him a rat, until he pushed him too far.
“Oh, yeah? I bet you know what cock smells like, too, with enough of it on your fucking breath, faggot.”