Something Blue

Chapter 3

It was 5:07AM and the bed had gone cold. Pierce already knew Elliot had left. He didn't have to feel the empty space next to him to confirm his assumption, but his arm stretched out anyway. There was nobody stealing the covers. Pierce missed that - tugging Elliot closer and mumbling something about the small blanket as an excuse.

His hand drifted over his pillowcase, trying to determine if the blue-haired boy had been a dream. The kisses, the whispers, the heat. Maybe the whole night would be easier to forget if his imagination was to blame.

But he could smell the rich mingling of hair oil and makeup powder. He breathed it in, accepting the phantom scent as Elliot's goodbye. It wrapped around him like a distant hug and his mind tried to grasp it, cling onto it, remember it. He knew Elliot was already building up his emotional barriers and Pierce feared he'd never let his guard down again.

Pierce sprawled out on his bed, amazed at how big the mattress seemed to be without somebody else by his side. He scanned his room, but found no trace of Elliot. His shoes and fancy floral shirt were nowhere to be seen, and even the blanket he was using on the floor had been picked up. There would be no morning cuddles. No giggles at sunrise. No smirking while trying to find their pants. Elliot had branded their night as a hookup.

Hours passed as Pierce replayed the events in his head, wondering if he had done something wrong.

Why didn't Elliot stay?

He picked up his phone as if the digital pixels would answer his question. The screen cast an electric glow on his face as he scrolled through Bumble ads and drunk posts. He avoided his DMs, which were filled with flirty girls. Nothing on his feed was too alarming, so he clicked on Elliot's profile. The blue-haired boy didn't post often, but Pierce smiled at the few photos he had shared with his followers. The images were simple and a bit too bright, but they were all happy and real - just like his disposition.

Pierce's thumb clicked the tagged photos section and saw a new picture had just been added. It was a photo of Elliot, posted by somebody unfamiliar. Pierce squinted to read the name and caption.

Mumbling to himself in the dark, he wondered, "Who the fuck is Rory?"

He could've been impulsive and texted Elliot, but instead, he investigated further. Apparently, Rory was an art major. He was in a drawing class with Elliot, but the photo didn't look like it was taken in a lecture hall or studio. Elliot was holding a drink, so Pierce assumed it was taken at a party. It had to be a different party than the one he was at last night because Elliot wasn't wearing the floral shirt.

When did Elliot go to a party without telling Pierce? Was it Rory's party? Was Rory single? Did Rory like Elliot? Was Rory even gay? Did Elliot like Pierce less than Rory? Pierce had created so many unanswered questions that he could've written his own CW show.

The moonlight had completely shifted into sunbeams by the time Pierce's roommate walked through the door. He was still half-naked in bed. The eve of dawn had been wasted by analyzing cyber personalities.

"Man," Blake gushed. "I had a great night."

Blake was the type of guy who entered high school as a skater boy, but as he gained more and more confidence throughout college, he turned into the irreplaceable tag-along friend who always smelled like knockoff cologne.

Pierce tossed his phone aside, but didn't bother sitting up. "You woke up in someone's bathtub again, huh?"

Blake blinked once. "Maybe. Why? Is that like a reputation I have? Because the first time was an accident." Pierce didn't reply. Instead, he turned over and snuggled deeper into his sheets. "Don't you have class at 8AM?"

Pierce groaned.

"If you're not going to class," Blake began. "Can I play you the new song I wrote?"

"Did you write it while you were in a bathtub?"

"I don't really remember," he rolled up his sleeve. His arm was covered in Sharpie and glitter. "I found the lyrics on my arm...Have you seen my Juul?"

The hockey player sprung out of bed faster than a puck sliding across ice. "See you after class."