Skip to content

Apathy, Chapter 4 A Glossy Sensation

September 24, 2018

The last line from the song Start Me Up by the Rolling Stones echoed in the air. The car was barrelling down the road at about 97 miles per hour; it even seemed to hover, Marco, a dumb well-intentioned man-child, nodded along with the song as he turned off of the ten freeway. He was somewhere in Redlands, and he was looking to- the car careened off of the road and down the embankment. He was going too fast, and he didn’t know how to handle the vehicle. He somehow, without damage, got his car righted and stopped at the light- just slightly askew as he was reentering the road. His little Ford Focus had seen better days, but his mind was not yet wrapped around the concept of ownership. He turned down Eureka Street, and after some terrible twists of his wheel, he somehow found his car parked in front of a tattoo shop.

He entered and felt his size pressuring down- he looks more like a boy than a man. He glanced through a book, pictures on the wall, and after 30 minutes of being ignored, he left.

Marco said, “Fuckin’ shit,” as he entered his car and drove off. He drove down to a small parking structure and entered a bar called The Vault. He ordered a beer and walked to the back alley. It was closed off to the world, so his beer was welcomed. The worry of a fire entered his mind, but to Marco, a piece of ass was a little too distracting.

His phone buzzed, he ignored it.

Marco walked up to a girl and said, “Hey, did I hear you just-”

“How old are you?!” The girl said with a laugh in her voice.

“I’m 21, duh,” Marco said holding up his beer.

“What’s a boy trying to pick up women? That’s kind of gross isn’t?” She said mostly to her friend.

“I’ll have you know-” Marco said with his eyes half open.

“So, I told him, Brenda this is fucking hilarious. OK, so what had happened was-”

Marco nodded to himself and returned to his seat. Rejection never felt good. He thought about going to another bar, but this was the one bar that accepted his fake ID, and he was a little too scared to try it anywhere else. He remembered the shady motherfucker who had sold it to him said that these ID’s are the kind that you can scan, like at Target. Marco didn’t know exactly what he meant but didn’t want to push his luck by believing the words of a man who sells kids the ability to drink.

The thought of the first time he used it entered his mind, and he was nervous again.

“You’re from Utah?”



“I-uh… moved.”

“What can I get you?”

Fear of heart palpitations kept him at this one particular fire hazard.

“What’re you drinking?” Marco said as he sat down at the bar next to yet another woman.

“Jack and Coke,” she responded half yelling as the music started to drown out the noise.

“I usually stick to beer, one of those things.”

“What? You got too drunk on Peppermint Schnapps?”

“More like Jim Beam.”

“I fucking hate Jim Beam. It’s watered down. Tastes watered down,” she said as she felt the alcohol race through her bloodstream.

“Yeah, it’s pretty much garbage. Where do you work? I like this outfit.”

“I’m a teacher, I teach third fucking grade,” she said as her left eye dipped down a little.

“Third grade huh?”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“I might be,” he said with a smile.

“Buy me another drink, and I’ll allow it to continue.”

“‘Nother Jack and Coke!”

“Calm down tiger,” she said with a laugh.

“What’s your name?”

Drunk again, that’s three nights in a row. What am I supposed to do if Dad has been so absent? More beer in the fridge, typical. Stone Brewery Variety Pack, he’s really treating himself, isn’t he? Goddamnit Dad… I’ll just take the Bud Lights and head back to my room then. This is the third night I’m getting drunk with you pops. Thanks for the beer and thanks for the massive headache. What the fuck am I supposed to do?

Paul’s door is opened… Jesus Dad…

It looks a little shambled, not that it was pristine before.

“You found the Bud Lights?” A voice behind me said loudly, and I honestly peed a little bit.

“Dad! You scared me!”

“You sure you want those?”

“You’ve been medicating yourself, why shouldn’t-”

“I figured, I don’t know how to handle this… Daisy, I want to kill somebody, and I don’t know who.”

I followed Dad back to the couch and sat down next to him.

I opened a beer and said, “They’re looking for the guy-”

“They’re not going to find shit…”


Albert looked right into Daisy’s eyes, and his glassy eyes began to run wet.

Albert said, “You, you’re all I gots left.”

“Dad, I know-”

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Dad. We should get some sleep…”

Marco had never felt a hard nipple before, and he just wanted to put his mouth on it- some kind of mechanical reaction he supposed. The handicapped stall seemed bigger on the outside, but it was a good thing that he wanted to get close. He lifted her skirt up and bobbed his cock on her ass.

“You gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah,” he said as he looked down at his hard dick. He grabbed the base and slowly pressed it in passing the prickles of her pubic hair attempting to grow back and into the smooth, glossy sensation of her pussy.

“You gonna teach me something, Tiger?”

“I’m going to do more than that!”

“You want to punish me? I’ve been so naughty!”

“You’ll call me Teacher by the end of this!”

“OH!? No, you’re my student, and I’m going fuck your little brains out!”

“What?” Marco asked in shock. She turned around and grabbed Marco’s dick and jammed it in her mouth. It felt good, but something felt wrong.

“I love my juices on your cock. Tastes so fucking good.” She stood up face to face with Marco and said, “Can you smell your cock on my breath, babycakes?”

Marco had made it a mission to stick his dick into human material, mostly female material at the moment. So, lying to women wasn’t hard. He found it easier to lie than tell the truth because women wouldn’t touch a scrawny little seventeen years old. However, on this one occasion, he did not lie, he just lacked the knowledge of whiskey, Jack Daniels, and Jim Beam. So, the memory of a drunken night with his best friend that took a sexual encounter into a sloppy gag of whiskey and ice cream vomit landing on the balls of the said friend- well it was not a happy experience. This turned into that same experience, and the smell of the whiskey from her lips spilled the bile from within him onto himself and her.

Then she said something that made Marco run as fast as he could out of the bar with his dick sticking out of his pants, she said, “Let teacher clean that up for you.”

As he ran, he heard laughter and felt his phone vibrate. He ran to his car, got in, and started it just as he looked down at his phone. Daisy was calling again.

“Fuckin’ cock tease,” Marco tossed the phone on the passenger seat and let it ring.

I don’t remember crying, but my eyes feel exhausted… the sun broke through my window. That woke me up.

Or was it the fucking fear and anxiety that struck my mind when I saw that I called Marco again?


From → Apathy

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: