New York City Boy

Chapter 1
Disallowance

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. The money’s all gone.”

The words struck Darren with a kind of terror and fear he had never felt before. His mouth hung agape and his face went pale as he numbly fell back into the couch behind him, the soft leather releasing a quiet exhale as it caught his leaden form. Darren clutched his cell phone tightly, as though he could strangle it silent and prevent his mother from going into the details of his family’s sudden descent from the upper class.

Embezzlement, she sighed. Corporate scandal. Father under investigation. Very few of the words managed to burrow their way through the overwhelming shock, but Darren understood enough to know that he was screwed.

For the past few months, Darren’s life was essentially perfect. Thanks to a gaudy donation from his father, a Manhattan executive on the board of one of the city’s countless advertising companies, Darren had been accepted to NYU despite his mediocre grades and complete lack of extracurricular activities. And, through a combination of constant whining and generally being a moody, sullen little bastard, he even managed to convince his parents to spring for a modest yet obscenely expensive high-rise apartment with an amazing view of Washington Square Park.

Set up with an amazing opportunity to make something of himself, Darren immediately put his efforts towards drinking, dodging classes whenever possible, and chasing the skirt of any co-ed that’d look at him twice. Even though he was only eighteen, his height, strong jaw and rugged stubble allowed him to easily pass for an older man, one clearly of age to buy alcohol. Those masculine features, combined with royal blue eyes and meticulously groomed blond hair also doubled as a package that was apparently irresistible to the young female college student.

All that carousing and womanizing didn’t come cheap, but whenever he needed money, Darren would simply call up his parents and beg them for cash using his most pathetic and piercing tone. Of course, they always obliged him, all too happy to do whatever it took to keep the petulant brat out of their hair.

In this manner, Darren had effectively avoided any sort of responsibility, doing whatever he wanted whenever he felt like it. That all ended on the frigid December morning his mother called. Her voice quavering, she told Darren how his father had come under suspicion for embezzling company funds and how all of the family’s accounts had been frozen, describing the events as though she were detailing the last days of a loved one. She rambled on in a half-coherent, grief-ridden monologue until Darren was able to muddle through his shock and interrupt her blathering.

“What are you saying?” Darren interrupted, his tone sharp with anger and confusion. “Are you guys not going to send me any more money?”

His mother paused, struck by the appalling selfishness of her son.

“Honey...the way things are going, your father and I might have to sell our house and move out to Long Island.” She finally said, speaking as bluntly as she could without sounding too heartless. “We can’t send you any more money. Since your tuition is already paid in full, you can continue going to school, but if you want to remain on campus, you’re going to have to sell your apartment and move into a dorm.”

“A dorm?!” Darren cried, his emotions overcome by righteous indignation. “Why don’t you just ask me to live in a refrigerator box on the street?”

Darren and his mother bickered back and forth until he ended the conversation by snapping his phone shut and whipping it across the room. The tiny device crashed into the wall and split into three different pieces as Darren proceeded to spout off an abominable string of curses and gesticulate wildly to the empty side of the living room.

After a few minutes, Darren finally calmed down enough to stop screaming obscenities and think rationally about his situation. Sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his forefingers, Darren walked over to the living room’s panoramic window and gazed out at the spectacular view spread out in front of him. It was winter in New York City, the day after a fresh powder. Everything laid out before him was gloriously fresh, crisp, and pure. The remnants of yesterday’s snow lingered on every leaf and blade of grass, wrapping the park in a pristine blanket of pure white silk.

“No way in hell am I giving this up.” Darren quietly declared as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window.

-----------------

Need roommate to share fantastic Greenwich Village apartment, Darren typed. Breathtaking view. Reasonable rent. Perfect for NYU students.

Darren put the finishing touches on his advertisement before clicking on submit, releasing a defeated sigh as he saw his posting instantly appear on the classifieds website. Technically, the building’s regulations prohibited him from subletting, and in Darren’s eyes, sharing his apartment with some stranger was only a step above sharing a dorm with some stranger. But in the end, his options came down to finding a roommate or getting a job - the decision was pretty easy.

Shuddering to think at what kind of freak he might end up rooming with, Darren closed his browser and put the issue out of his mind for the moment. He switched on the TV and collapsed into his couch, distracting himself with a comforting dose of afternoon network programming. He had barely gotten through a full episode of Mindless Squabbling Disguised as a Legitimate Courtroom when he heard the buzzer at the front door go off, indicating that there was someone who wanted Darren to let them into the building. Groaning at the inconvenience, Darren struggled to his feet and strode over to the two-way radio.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m here about the apartment?” A garbled yet warm voice quickly responded.

Darren paused and raised an eyebrow.

“...the apartment I posted about half an hour ago?” he questioned, not trying at all to hide the suspicion in his tone.

“That’s right.” The voice confirmed with an unseen smile.

“Huh.” Darren muttered. “Well...come on up. Twentieth floor, apartment H.”

With that, Darren buzzed the stranger into the building. While waiting for him to reach the apartment, Darren stood in the foyer, his brow furrowed. How could someone see the ad, decide they want the apartment, and get across town in thirty minutes? In any other situation, Darren probably wouldn’t have even let the visitor into the building, but he was desperate. He had almost used all of the last allowance his parents had sent to him and didn’t even have enough in his account to get wasted tonight. With any luck, he’d get the first month’s rent from the mystery tenant and be able to continue with his regularly scheduled drinking.

Darren’s evening planning was interrupted by a knock at his door, presumably from his prospective roommate. Taking a deep breath, Darren opened the doorway, resigning himself to taking in whatever weirdo waited on the other side.

In the hall stood a young man in his early twenties, smiling graciously. Moderately built, clothed in jeans, a flowing black coat that perfectly matched his wavy dark hair and a chocolate colored scarf that trailed down both sides of his chest, he didn’t stand out at all from the scores of blandly handsome male students that dotted NYU’s campus. That is, except for his eyes. His irises glowed a deep scarlet, shining with such intensity that Darren could still see them when he blinked. Fluorescent trails danced in the darkness beneath his eyelids, as though Darren had just gazed into the mid-day sun and then quickly turned away.

An albino?, Darren thought to himself. No, couldn’t be. He could have died his hair black, Darren rationalized, but his skin wasn’t nearly pale enough. In fact -

“Um, are you okay?” the man gently interrupted Darren’s thoughts, no doubt a little uncomfortable at being wordlessly stared at.

Darren snapped back to reality, embarrassed with himself and blushing slightly.

“Uh, sorry.” Darren broke his silence, thrusting his hand towards the man. “I’m Darren.”

The man grinned and took Darren’s palm in a solid handshake. “Jack. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Darren responded, managing a smile. “Come on in.”

Jack stepped into the living room as Darren closed the door behind him. He may be a freak, Darren thought, but he’s nice enough. Darren followed a few steps behind Jack as he examined the apartment, maintaining a friendly banter with him and answering a question every now and then. Jack explained to Darren that he was an anthropology student looking for a new apartment, having recently escaped an arrangement with a deadbeat roommate just slightly uptown.

“That sucks.” Darren sympathized. “Did he get evicted?”

“Dunno.” Jack admitted. “That’s probably the least of his concerns right now, I’d imagine. So, where would I be sleeping?”

“Oh, um...there’s a convertible bed in the couch.” Darren explained, caught a bit off guard at the sudden shift in conversation. “You’d sleep on that - pretty nice view, huh?”

“Breathtaking.” Jack agreed, nodding. Without saying a word, he casually strode to the full-length window, gazing silently out over the city.

“So...what do you think? Interested?” Darren gently probed.

Jack turned to face Darren, smiling broadly.

“Absolutely. When can I move in?”

Despite his friendly expression, Darren couldn’t bring himself to look Jack in the eyes. His gaze was planted somewhere around Jack’s neck, doing his best to avoid the cold scrutiny of those gleaming red orbs.

“Today, if you want.” Darren finally said. “Er, if you have the first month’s rent, that is.”

“Sure do.” Jack confirmed, pulling out a sizable wad of bills from his jacket pocket. “Is cash okay?”

Is it!, Darren thought.

“Uh, yeah.” Darren took the money from Jack, feeling both incredibly fortunate and a little disbelieving at the same time.

“Great! I’ll go get my stuff and be back later tonight.” With that, Jack headed for the door.

Darren thumbed absently through the bills, thinking that he had better just go ahead and ask the question before Jack was his roommate for good.

“Hey, could you hold on for a second?” he called after Jack. He stopped and turned towards Darren, his expression curious. “Um...I don’t mean to be rude, but...what’s with the eyes?”

Darren could swear he saw Jack’s face sharpen for just an instant before softening into a knowing smile, as though he received the question a dozen times a day.

“There’s just contacts.” He confessed. “Do you like ?em?”

“Um, yeah. They’re, uh...” Darren halted, searching for an appropriate adjective. “They’re pretty intense.”

Jack chuckled. Without another word, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. Darren looked after him for a moment, unsure of what to make of his new roommate. Jack seemed likeable and polite, but Darren couldn’t shake the feeling that he had somehow just made a grave mistake.

That thought lingered in his mind until he was reminded of the small pile of crisp bills lying in his hand. Any suspicion he might have regarded towards Jack was immediately washed away as he tallied up his newfound wealth, grinning like an idiot and imagining what he could do with the money.

-----------------

Darren lurched out of the elevator, moaning and shielding his eyes from the harsh light emanating from the tubular bulbs above. With one hand on the wall to keep his balance, he dragged his body down the hallway, willing himself to his apartment on rubbery legs that threatened to give out with every step. Somehow, he managed to overcome his full-blown drunkenness long enough to make it to his front door, where he fumbled with the keys for a few moments before finding the correct one and stumbling into his foyer.

Every light within the apartment appeared to be off, leaving the interior dark save for the blast of man made brightness pouring in from the window. Once his eyes had focused, Darren could just make out the outline of Jack, lying on the pullout bed and sleeping peacefully. Darren grinned to himself, deciding that he should wake his new roommate up and tell him all about the drunken sex he had with a half-conscious co-ed in the filthy bathroom of a rathole downtown tavern.

Darren took a step towards the bed, wobbled for a moment, and then promptly vomited. The foul liquid splattered audibly on the wood floor, splashing all over the cuffs of his pants and his brand new boots. Darren groaned and teetered backwards, his throat burning and his head spinning, feeling that he might pass out at any moment. His instinct was to at least try and find a soft spot to a land, but before he could follow up on that, Darren felt the familiar overwhelming blackness cloud over his mind and pull him into unconsciousness.

The last thing Darren saw before falling flat on his face were two piercing red points of light, shining through the darkness and glaring at him the way a nocturnal predator glares at his prey.

-----------------

“...it’s going to be a chilly one out there today, so make sure to bundle up. Now, here’s

John Discepolo with last night’s sports. John?”

Darren pried his eyelids open, stirred into consciousness by the cheerful prattling of the local morning news team. When his vision came into focus, the first thing he saw was a small puddle of translucent yellow vomit, pooled up mere inches from his face. The smell hit his nostrils a moment later, which nearly caused him to expel the remaining contents of his stomach. He managed to tap it back down, now only having the sandpaper dry mouth, violently stinging eyes and agonizing headache to deal with. Releasing a pathetic moan, Darren closed his eyes and sluggishly rolled onto his back, needing every bit of his sapped strength to complete the simple action.

“Mornin’, Darren.” Came a cheerful voice that bored into Darren’s skull like a dentist’s drill. Darren winced and cracked one eye open to see Jack standing above him, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket sleeves.

“Would you mind keeping it down?’ Darren asked in a raspy whisper. “I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

Jack chuckled softly. “Yeah, I imagine you would. Have a good time last night?”

“I’d tell you if I could remember any of it.” Darren muttered. “Don’t you have a class to get to?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

Darren snorted. “Dude, all I’m doing today is drinking water and sleeping.”

“Oh? Sure you wanna miss a class so close to final exams?”

“Uh, yeah, I am.”

Jack observed him for a moment, his face blank.

“Well, I guess I can’t make you go.” He finally admitted. “But you should think about the consequences of deciding to lay in your own vomit all day instead of going to class.”

Darren rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, dad. Are you done?”

Jack looked Darren over for another second before shrugging, stepping over him and heading out into the hallway. Just before closing the door behind him, Jack stuck his head back in the apartment and stared down at Darren, clearly trying his best to make his normally unsettling gaze appear compassionate and understanding.

“Think about it.” Jack asked, his voice warm and kind. “That’s all I ask. Okay?”

Darren grumbled something unintelligible as a response and closed his eyes again, apparently content with sleeping on the hard wooden floor directly in front of the door. Jack shook his head and closed the door behind him, leaving Darren to recover from his hangover in solitude.

-----------------

Stretched out comfortably on the couch, Jack intently studied the pages of his paperback with a contented smile on his face. Darren had apparently gone out drinking again, and Jack had been alone in the apartment ever since he returned home from class, allowing him some much appreciated solitude and a chance to catch up on his reading in peace.

That abruptly came to an end when Darren burst through the door, laughing boisterously and quite clearly completely smashed. Jack glared at his roommate over the top of his reading glasses as Darren shut the door behind him, apparently oblivious to Jack’s presence. Still chuckling to himself, he made it halfway down the hall before Jack decided to get his attention.

“Ah-hem!” Jack cleared his throat.

Darren turned and looked at Jack, his face immediately lighting up even though his roommate was glaring daggers at him.

“Heeeeeeey!” Darren cried and threw his arms open, as though he could give Jack a hug from across the room. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” Jack curtly replied. He deliberately shut the book and took his glasses off, placing both items on the nightstand before sitting up and locking eyes with Darren again. “You know, you didn’t clean up your vomit from last night before going out to drink again. I nearly lost a shoe stepping in it when I came home from class.”

That sent Darren off on another streak of uncontrollable snickering. Jack rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, waiting for Darren to regain his composure. His laughter dying down to a few drunken giggles, Darren staggered over to the couch and planted a hand on its arm, leaning forward and bringing his face close to Jack’s. Jack scowled and recoiled from Darren’s approach, repelled by the stinking, flammable fumes emanating from his mouth.

“Hahaha, I’m really sorry about that.” Darren slurred an apology. “I got a call from my friends and totally forgot about cleaning up. Oh! Dude! I gotta tell you about what happened at the bar! Me and these two chicks, right, we - ”

“I don’t care.” Jack sharply interrupted. “I don’t want to know what you and your inebriate friends do when you get together. If you and I are gonna be roommates, you’re gonna at least have to be quieter when you return home from your drunken escapades, all right?”

Darren face went blank, squinting as his alcohol-addled mind did its best to sort through Jack’s words.

“You’ve got some nerve.” Darren finally accused, jabbing a finger into Jack’s chest. “I didn’t even want a roommate, y’know. If it wasn’t for the stupid feds freezing their accounts, I’d still be getting money from my parents and have this place all to myself.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, causing Darren to shudder just a little bit under his intense scarlet stare.

“So, that’s how you like to live? Relying on mommy and daddy for every little thing, squandering their money on booze and wasting a chance at a great education?”

Darren scoffed and waved his hand, as though swatting away Jack’s remarks. “Whatever, dude. I’m going to bed.”

With that, he turned and tottered towards his room, barely keeping his balance as he grumbled curses directed at Jack that were clearly audible even though he probably meant them to be in an undertone. Jack looked after him for a moment before sighing and reaching for his book and glasses, returning to the novel at the point he’d been interrupted.

 

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