Bright and colorful lights shone through the darkened room. Accompanied by loud music and a large crowd of sweaty bodies, grinding and dancing against each other with a lack of care or awareness of such provocative actions. It was like being in a dense room, full to the brim of wild animals that are sexually active and eagerly searching for a partner.

To do what? I don't know and I don't want to know. This isn't something I'm used to spending my Friday night in. I would usually be at home like the good boy I am. Reading my bible, and reciting my nightly prayers before I went to sleep. And I was until Jamie called me and begged me to join him. He said he was tired of spending the weekened alone, so he asked me--the most wonderful friend of all time--to come hang out with him tonight.

I didn't know what it was for or why, but at the same time I trusted Jamie, so I didn't bother asking. We were the best of best friends ever since we were in dipars so I knew he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to me. But the longer I stayed, the heavier the feelings of regret and guilt seem to burden my shoulders.

I should have stayed at home, I should have said no, but I didn't. I told my mother I would be spending the night over at Jamie's house and I thought I was. Some may say I was fooled, and to a selfish, shallow degree I would understand. But it won't hold as much weight as compared to someone who I just met. But I never met Jamie, I knew Jamie, and only an idiot wouldn't pick up the years of change he's gone through, and the road he was taking

He went from obedient to rebellious, introverted to extroverted, reserved to rambunctious. He even dyed his natural brown hair to cherry red and began to wear clothes that glorify Lucifer and his corrupt beings. I picked up the change a lot quicker than anyone, but I dared not say a word. Even when I saw him throwing his life into a world of sin and traveling into a dark evil path, I couldn't stop him. He's effectively shut everyone out of his life, he doesn't talk to his mother nor does he talk to his older brother. He has abandoned church completely and, aside from me, all of his Christian friends were gone from him. I didn't want to be next. Unlike Jamie, I didn't have any friends aside from church--folks nowadays don't take too much kindly to devout Christians such as myself and my family--so instead I stood from the sidelines, watched him afar.

In other words I knew what I was getting into the instant I said yes. It was just ample hope, wishful thinking that maybe the old Jamie is back. That he has seen the error of his ways and is trying to reconcile with his past by starting with me. I didn't know why me of all people but I didn't care, I was eager to help. I was his friend after all.

But, as I awkwardly stood by the bar and watch a sea of writhing bodies move about, that resurgence of hope was beginning to fade. I was a firm believer of a second chance. While the church may close their doors, God will never do such a deed. All he asks is for you is beg for his forgiveness and he shall bless you with his spirit. That was what my mother always taught me, and she was once an alcoholic.

But now the heavy feeling, the knot that lodged its way into my stomach was a message to me... A message saying that I should give up. That Old Jamie was never coming back. Just then a hand gripped my shoulder. I jumped, swiveling around quickly to face my best friend.. Or what remained of him.

My heart sank at his attire. A black shirt with a depiction of monster on top of a skyscraper, black jeans with ripped holes on them, dark grey converse with some sort of skull design and fingerless gloves. He looked like a different person, aside from his familiar baby blue eyes and a dust of freckles, he was a stranger to me than someone I associated all my life and that hurts.

Even the cross he wore everywhere he went was gone. Replaced with a silver Pentagon that churned my stomach each time I looked at it. "Hey!" He said, loud enough for me to hear. He smelt the same thing as everyone else in this place. Cheap whisky and musk.

I grimaced, "You definitely need a shower when we get home"

He laughed. That old quirky laugh only the Old Jamie can do. Lord knows how much my heart aches for him to turn normal, how every night I prayed he'd opened his eyes and come back from the depths of his lost mind. "Oh yeah well you need to loosen up a bit" He chuckled, patting my shoulder.

I chuckled as well, but only slightly. "There's no way I could," The urge to take Jamie, and leave as far as humanly possible tugged at my mind. This place gives me a bad vibe and what mother always taught me is to leave any situation you feel uncomfortable in, it's God trying to protect us. But Jamie pulled me to two open seats and set me down

"Well I'm going to make you relax," he huffed and I knew there was no changing his mind. Plus he, judging from the way he swayed, he seemed too drunk to care about what I had to say.

"Hey Vince!" He yelled "Give us two shots of Tequila!"

I gawked at him, "Jamie we can't!" I pleaded. I wanted to say we're underage, to say that one of us needed to drive home safely or else we'll end up dead, but those words died on my tongue just when I was about to speak them. Even with the neon lights and the drunken haze, the look Jamie gave me was one that clearly spoke: 'mess this up for me and we're threw'

"Why not?" He said but with a challenging tinge. A tone that was riddled with a cold hostility and it made my pulse jump. A part of me wanted to come clean and purged this guilt from my consciousness. I've already lied to my mother, to my father, to the tall and intimidating guy at the entrance. I didn't want to tell anymore lies.

God punish those who are liars, but both the look and the tone from Jamie was a warning. A tall tale caution that told me, I was trekking on thin ice with him. He was ready to throw me in the waters and leave me there. Drowning and screaming for him to help me.

I wasn't going to win.

Give up

I closed my mouth. Turning my head back to the bar table as sign of defeat

So weak Micah. A voice inside of my head said to me in a bitter note, causing a tight, heavy knot to form in my stomach. My vision went blurry, my eyes stung. I blinked the tears away before Jamie had the chance to see them.

I shouldn't cry--hell I shouldn't even complain--I came with the intentions of helping my best friend see the mistakes he has made and get him to leave this path he has taken. I never planned on working against him. Everyone did that and he effectively placed a barrier against the people he loved as the end result.

I'm not going to do that.

I'm never going to do that.

Soon the drink came to my line of sight. It was very simple, a small glass housing a lime green liquid inside. Decorated with a tiny umbrella, a slice of lime and a thin black straw, but the scent was strong. Already I can feel my head getting woozy just by the whiff alone. This was my first time seeing alcohol live and up close but I have heard of its temptations before. My mother used to tell me stories of her life and how liquor controlled every aspect of it.

Nobody told me it was wrong. Before I met God and your father, alcohol was the only thing that kept me sane. But I am here to tell you that drinking is wrong my son. Under any circumstances you should never drink that devils liquid.

Her soft yet stern voice drifted past the lightheaded haze that took over my mind.

I felt sick. Like I was drowning in a cesspool guilt and shame and I haven't even tasted the alcoholic beverage yet. My gaze hovered over to Jamie, who already downed his possibly third cup for the night and asked the person behind the bar table for another one.

How can anyone stand to drink such strong stuff I will never know. I looked back at the beverage before me and I felt my throat clench. The drink was tempting, and trapped within this blistering heat of an environment, the temptation was nearly too irresistible. I should have asked for water but the thought of the guy finding out of our real age was all too scary.

I didn't want to let Jamie down, I didn't want to lose years of friendship with just humiliating him, but at the same I am a Christian. I had values to uphold and a God whose judgement weighs greater than that of men. While Jamie is content with having fun with strangers while drinking himself into a stupor, I am not. "What's wrong Miach?!" Jamie slurred, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Loosen up a bit! Don't be such a tight ass!"

"Jamie you're drunk" I said outright.

"So?" He shrugged, "At least I'm having fun!"

My eye started to twitch, "There are other ways to have fun you know" I grumbled, "And this isn't one of them,"

"Oh really?" He purred, grinning mischievously. "Okay then genius, tell me what do you want to do that would be fun hmm?"

****

There was a reason my friends told me to stay away from Jamie. He's too rambunctious, too out of control. He's inconsiderate and he doesn't care about his life, and that is what makes him dangerous. He's much too similar to someone cross the street without looking, or a drunk driver.

All of those things are exactly what Jamie became to this very day, and I won't deny who he is now. But at the same time I still saw him as my friend. Nothing more, nothing less. He still loves to draw, to sing and write. Has an unhealthy obsession with Percy Jackson and still held his precious Skillet album, I gave to him on his tenth birthday.

He has changed yes, but I still believe he can redeem himself. People have done things in their lives they have come to hate or regret and I want my friends to understand that.

Jamie is human, not a saint. But every time I do bring that piece up I reciprocate a negative reaction. Some were accusing glares, some were a sideways glance, but they all looked at me as if I was defending a criminal. It gave me an unsettling feeling, and so I immediately apologized and never talked about the subject again. For the most part neither does the group, but whenever I speak or hear something related to him, everyone would go into a tanget. Belittling him and the friends he soicalized with, while I kept my mouth shut.

I couldn't fight back, or I'd risk losing the only group of friends I had, and I let their words run rampant through my mind every night before I go to bed. Even when I surfed through my bible, scanning Mark chapters and reading over and over of sin and forgiveness.

He's out of control they'd said

He's just too darn out of control..

But I kept holding on. Kept reassuring myself that things will get better. I knew what Jamie was and I was determined I was going to prove them wrong. But in that moment, when I felt his hand entangle mine, my own certainty began to waver.

Not because of Jamie himself, but because their voices started to resurrect that same lingering doubt in my the back of my head, I've been suppressing for the past month..

It didn't help when he started to lean on me, as we both walked down a quiet and empty hall. In fact I could feel my pulse thrum underneath my neck and my heart began to race. Luckily the club had a hotel right next door, and after paying for our night-- which surprised the heck out of me-- the kind lady in the front desk gave us our key. I should have shrugged him off but I'd knew I would end up reminiscing in it for sure. I was already in a cesspool of guilt, I didn't want anymore. So I ended up carrying half of his weight on my shoulders until we reached our room.

"Room 308.." I mumbled, remembering what she told us before we cantered off. I looked over the numbers and nodded to myself.

Yup this is it.

I used the card key and opened the door. Dragging in a drunken, tired Jamie along with me. I closed it with my foot before we both approached the bed, where I gently laid him down and sat near the foot of the mattress with an exhausted huff.

The room wasn't so bad. The overly washed walls were painted in a soft cream like color, with a matching light coffee carpet. There was one window at the far left, right underneath it was a grey airing machine, already blasting out warm to combat the chilly night. In front of me was a seemingly new vanity desk with a flat screen TV plastered above both the mirror and the desk. It gave out a warm welcome like aura, so I'd give it some credence.

Just then I heard the bed creek. Wrenching myself from my thoughts, I looked over, seeing Jamie turn to his back. His hand was placed over his forehead, groaning with utter displeasure, "Micah..."

"Yes?" I said

"I don't feel so good.." He mumbled, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Who's fault was that?" I frowned, "And after all that time I told you not to drink."

"Oh don't be a smart ass," he said, and although I grimaced at his foul language, I still chuckled a bit. Because it reminded me of how snarky Jamie used to be when we were just kids. "Say Micah"

I sighed, but we both knew I was kidding, "What now?"

"Can you undress me?"

"Huh?!" I nearly fell to the floor, that was how flabbergasted I was at his statement.

Can you undress me? What in the world did he mean by that? Why can't he do it himself? He's capable enough to change himself right? Why does he need me? We're boys for the love of--

"Micah?" Jaime interrupted my train of thought.

"Yeah?" I squealed, then quickly berated myself for sounding like a girl.

"What's the matter? You're not going to do it?"

He's... He's serious... "W-well why can't you do it yourself?" I asked, trying my best to calm my racing heart.

"Well I feel like shit, my head is spinning and my body is so tired I can't even move. Even speaking feels like a fucking exercise"

"I-I see.."

"So hurry up. I ain't got all day." He whined, poking at my side with his foot. So much for being so tired you can't move, liar. Though nonetheless I caved in. I started with his feet, pulling off his grey vans and his white socks slowly, almost carefully. It's bad enough I was already shaking from the warm pleasant shivers that ran through my very bones, I didn't want to suddenly snap his feet or cause him any harm because of my nervousness, or whatever the heck these weird occurances are. Now I clearly don't know if Jamie is that fragile or not, but I'd rather not find out tonight. I couldn't live with myself if I did.

After I threw his shoes to the floor, I went for his shirt. Gripping the rough fabric ends with my fingers, I pulled the black piece of clothing the same way I took off his shoes. Gradual and tentative, but this time I stopped. I could feel my heart nearly breaking through my chest for how aggressive it was thumping inside. Seeing the exposure of his belly, his soft porcelain flesh that slightly glistened from the two lamps stationed right above our heads. The enunciation of his hips, the slight, feminine curve of his waist made me go dizzy. Like the world was spinning and I was falling in this chaotic spiral without a landing to break this plummet.

Oh no... This isn't good. I shouldn't have these kind of desires. These sinful, flaming desires rooted in the depths of my soul. Jamie is my friend, not only that but like a brother to me in some ways. I couldn't, no, shouldn't look at him the same way a man larps at a beautiful young lady. But at the same time I couldn't stop myself. My lips were already touching his stomach. It was as if I was fighting with myself. Kicking, screaming, thrashing and struggling from the hands that stubbornly clung onto me and pulled me further in the black awaiting abyss.

It felt awful, completely and utterly. But at the same time riveting. I kept kissing upwards, creating a trail that was both electric and rejuvenating. Tingles in my stomach flourished, stones of guilt and shame morphed into harmless butterflies that moved lower to my abdomen.

Oh dear.. What is this weird restricting sensation in my pants? I didn't understand what on Earth was happening to me, why am I acting on urges that should be repressed. This isn't natural. This should not--no this should never happened.

And yet, when I looked into Jamie's eyes, I saw all of my worries, my inner struggles, wash away by the blue sea trapped in his irises. And, as I watched them drown, I couldn't help but feel a slight slither of relief flow through me.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, before I smashed my lips against his. I didn't know who I was apologizing to. Myself? My family? My community? Or was it God himself? For seeing what I had became? For the inevitable failure I had finally witnessed? Or was it because of the years of living a strict, devout lifestyle went to waste in just one night? I couldn't figure that part out, when most of the thoughts I had were filled with nothing but Jamie. his soft lips, his taste, his moans. His eyes, his body, his hair and everything that made him into a person I could never take my eyes off. I couldn't think up of anything else and if I did it was vapid, churning into fuel for my desires.

My desires for him..

I stopped kissing him, partly hoping I would jump down from this high, and partly because I wanted to look at him. To see what his reaction was because I was drowning in a cesspool of emotion to even come up with a reaction. I didn't care if he hated me, but at the same time it was the last thing I needed. And the thought of him afraid of me, made me so nauseated I couldn't entertain it for another second.

But his reaction wasn't a death glare, and it wasn't fear either--which was something I'm thankful for--his entire face was just as red as my own, his lips were swollen and his hair was disheveled.

His eyes were wide and for a second I thought it was fear. My shoulders tensed, ready to get off, but when he rose up to kiss me, my newfound concern faded. Instantly I relaxed.

He smiled, "I didn't know you had it in you" but then he frowned, "I'm sorry. I--" but I cut him off with another kiss. I'm glad he didn't freak out, but I also didn't want to hear anymore. I wanted him more than anything. To hell with my family, my friends, and my community. To hell with the the church, and other judgemental people there. Tonight I too, can delve into my own sinful desires as well. I'm not an angel, I can only hold back so much, and if people want to judge me for it, then I don't mind. At least I'm more self aware of what I'm doing.

I just won't give a damn.

Our tongues danced, our hands entangled. Then our clothes were tossed to the floor. Feeling too restricting and too hot to keep them on our bodies we nearly tore them off.

"Micah..." Jamie moaned as I teased him. My mouth left his nipple and I quickly found those malleable lips. I pulled away, breathing hard as I slowly felt suffocating pressure in my lungs. "Micah.. Please" his hands found my cheeks. His eyes begging me to take him into heights far from our own world.

I smiled, parting his legs open, ready to experience a new world with him. My best friend, my brother and..