"F--k this. F--king piece of shit". Brian smashed his keyboard with his fist in utter frustration, a small bead of sweat trickling down his right temple ever so slowly. The fact that all the air conditioning units in the house had gotten fried during an electrical storm a few nights before only compounded his angst, but he was partly to blame for it as much as the 85 degree weather that lorded over his tranquil little part of Southern New Jersey. He had gotten lazy recently, probably due to the weather, in getting himself to get his ass to the computer repair shop after his newer PC caught a virus from a night of rather un-kosher internet surfing. He had no girlfriend or available booty calls that night and nothing to do, so he figured why the hell not as everyone was in bed. Big mistake, as it turned out the virus he caught was a tough sonuvabitch. This only resulted in having to use the older computer that was only capable of handling dial up until he decided to get his ass in gear on that issue.
Sighing heavily, he decided to try and drown his anger in yet another night of attempting to pull off a rather tricky riff on his axe with his closest friend Jack sitting on the desk next to him, silently listening to every missed note and off time riff. Dear ol' Jack didn't exactly help his playing (in this case actually making it worse), but he did help the 6'2" man sitting next to him by taking the edge off from the day a considerable amount. It was only 5 pm and he was already sufficiently toasted. The fact that a bottle of whiskey can't yell at you for not doing the dishes or mowing the lawn was a definite plus as well. "Thank god they're out of town for the weekend". He closed his eyes and pictured his parents nit picking his every move for the millionth time.
Just before he was about to launch into the main riff from a rather catchy Behemoth song, his phone vibrated rather loudly on the desk next to him, startling him from his half asleep state of consciousness and causing him to swing around, narrowly avoiding knocking over the uncapped bottle of liquor onto the power strip sitting on the floor directly under it.
Regaining his compsure rather quickly, he looked at the caller ID. It read "This Guy", a nickname that his friend Kevin had seemed to have acquired and no one could explain the origin. He picked it up and answered.
"Yo, what's up?"
"Watcha up to, mang?", replied Kevin.
"Abshof--kinlutely nothing. You?"
"Haha, same thing. Great minds think alike"
"Heh, either that or we're drinking the shame thing. Wanna come over?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing. You drunk or something?" Kevin could have sworn he could smell the alcohol on his friend's breath through the reciever.
"It's a possibility"
"Damn dude, it's only 5! I'll be right over. Just save me some, okay?"
"Will do. I'll shee you when ya get here. Later"
A rather short answer, consisting of a half hearted "later" was all Kevin gave his friend. He shook his head and smiled to himself as he grabbed his axe and half stack and headed out to load up his car. Brian wasn't a bad guy at all, in fact he was one of Kevin's dearest friends and the type of guy that was always there for you should you need something, but his friend's recently developed drinking problems were starting to become an issue. He mused to himself for a minute about bringing it up when he got to his friend's house, but shook it off for the moment as he suspected it would only make things worse at this point. "Another talk for another day" was the last thing that crossed his mind as he hopped in his car, threw some Pantera on, and loudly squeeled out of the driveway.
Turning the volume up on his dinky little practice amp to the maximum tolerable level, which for him in his drunken state was all the way, launched into a catchy little riff he had been working on for the past few days. After a few minutes, his skin began to crawl from sweating so much that it prompted him to actually get up for once and open the windows in the computer room. Pausing for a second, he directed his drunken gaze across the street. His neighbor's girlfriend was lounging on a beach chair in their front yard across the street. Running 5 days a week did her body good, and she knew it, constantly flaunting her slender and toned body for all the old men on the street to ogle. He knew her type- the kind of girl that got off at teasing the living shit out of every guy she came across, loving every second of it.
"F--king c*ck teasing little bitch". He nearly spouted that train of thought aloud but caught himself in time. "I can't stand that shit. Definitely would f--k her brains into next week though". From his vantage point, he could see her in all her glory, two narrow strips of black fabric barely covering only the most essential parts of her incredible anatomy. The fact that she was a redhead only served to intensify his quiet infatuation with her. As he turned away to go back to playing his axe, he could have sworn that out of the corner of his eye he saw her lift her sunglasses and give him a wink and a smile.
Suddenly, something came over Brian. Not knowing why, his feet seemed to gain a mind of their own and he opened the door. He stood right outside it for a minute, just standing there and looking longingly at her. It was an ever so slight motion but he knew he saw it- her finger curled up in a "come here" motion. Taking a leisurely pace, he made his way over to her, stumbling on occasion. He had downed just over half of the bottle of Jack sitting on his desk in a little under 2 hours afterall.
"Hey Jess. What's up?". Brian put on a false air of naievite on his words to seem oblivious to her efforts at teasing him. He hadn't had much contact at all with her since she moved into her boyfriend's house almost a year ago, but he had enough to at least learn her name.
"Nothing much, just doing some tanning. You?"
"Same shit different day. I was just trying to get a new song down, but it's a little harder than I thought."
"I heard. It sounded really hard. I wouldn't know how hard it could be 'cause I don't play anything, but it sounds really hard". Rolling over onto her flat-as-a-board stomach and propping her head up in her hands with her elbows on the chair, she extended her fingers up the side of her face in a faux attempt to seem 110% interested in the man stranding before her. She also started lifting and lowering her lower legs, alternating left and right every few seconds. The fact that she put a decent amount of emphasis on the word "hard" didn't help to hide his apparant interest in her body. Deciding that adjusting himself through his pockets would be too obvious, Brian decided to take a seat on the lawn next to her.
"So what've you been up to lately, Jess? I haven't seen you around much at all."
"Yeah, I've been busy with work alot these past few weeks, and any free time I've had to myself has really just been spent running and working out. Gotta watch my figure, ya know?". Brian watched the beads of sweat roll down her neck and disappear between her more interesting features as she talked, the words barely registering in his inebriated mind.
"Yeah, I could watch it all day". A shit-eating grin spread across his face.
"You perv! That's a good way to get your ass kicked", Jess giggled a little bit, yet another one of her teasing tactics.
"Oh really now? I might enjoy that"
"Yeah really! Johnny might not though"
"Who, your boyfriend? What he doesn't know won't kill him"
"I'd still know!"
"He's a piece of shit"
"Excuse me?", she answered, seemingly getting genuinely pissed at this point, raising her right eyebrow.
"I've seen him when he comes home from the bar, drunk as hell and almost smashing up your car in his failed attempts to park straight in the driveway. You know he treats you like shit, right?"
"Yeah, I know, but I love him. I've just been with him for so long it'd be like ripping off an arm at this point."
"Jess, the whole f--king street can hear him screaming at you at 3 am, and that's with the doors and windows closed."
Just then, Kevin's car rounded the street corner, the sound of the engine alerting Brian to his friend's approach. As he turned to stumble back to his house, he uttered one last comment to her.
"I hope you know all that makeup doesn't do well enough to cover up your bruises.