Now, I'm working on my fantasy novel right now, but I've always been thinking about eventually Vicissitudes into a novel, and recently I've fallen back in love with these stories again. I forgot how close I felt to all the characters while writing them...it's something that's never happened to me before and hasn't happened since. So I feel I should post all the ones that I have written, especially since the story starts turning into more of an actual narrative with this one (which reprises Tyler).
I'm pretty sure everyone's forgotten what's going on with these stories, so I suggest reading the rest of them before going to this one (if it's too much of a hassle, you don't have to review). The eighth one does connect the most to the sixth and seventh stories, though.
It's long, so I'm splitting it in two. Also, there's lots of cursing, and a fight scene, and a kiss scene. I'm scared. *ducks and hides*
Vicissitudes
8. Tyler Again
Regret. It’s the worst emotion anyone can possibly feel—yet lately it seems like I’ve got all the reason in the world to regret things I’ve done. I regret forgetting my band mate Christian’s birthday. I regret accidentally running into Alice in the bookstore and knocking clear over. I regret not opening the door after Vance when I entered Ludwig’s store the last time.
But those are all little things; things I can easily forget, things I can easily be forgiven for. What I did—what I did back then—
I can’t so easily be forgiven for that.
It all started with my little sister Pearl. Well, actually, it started even earlier than that, with Dora Florence bumping into me one afternoon two days ago, right when I was leaving my dorm to practice with my band.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” I said, impatient. “Outta the way, Dora.”
“No—listen! Listen!” cried Dora, maneuvering between me and the door when I tried to step past her. Her face was flushed pink and she was breathing hard, as if she’d just ran a marathon. Weird, since Dora abhorred physical activity like the devil. She must have run across campus to tell me this…
Whatever the hell it was, it had to be important.
“Um, okay,” I said. “But make it quick.”
Just then, Geoff, standing with the rest of my impatient band mates, took the opportunity to shout at me in the distance. “Heeey! You comin’ or not, Tyler?”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” I called back. Then, to Dora, I said, “C’mon, what is it? Chop, chop!”
“Well…” Dora took several deep breaths. I shifted impatiently, waiting for her to continue. “Well, Tyler—do you know who your sister’s dating right now?”
“Which one?” I said with a stab of annoyance. “I have six, you know.”
Dora sighed and rolled her eyes as if I was the hugest idiot in the universe, but hey, she was the idiot, forgetting how many sisters I had and assuming I’d know which one she meant when she said “sister”. When she spoke, she sounded bored and sarcastic but also superior.
“Pearl, I mean.”
“Pearl? She has a new boyfriend?” I frowned at Dora. Unlike, say, Megan, Pearl wasn’t one for dating and ditching tons of guys. She’d only dated once, and their breakup had been a very quiet, unfussy affair. Since then, as far as I knew, Pearl hadn’t gotten another boyfriend.
“Yep.” Dora sounded delighted, in the most savage way possible. I shuddered listening to the bloodlust in her voice. “And you won’t believe who it is.”
“Tell me, then,” I said, no longer bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice. “Look, I’m running late…” I didn’t even know why Dora would think I was interested in who my sister was dating…hell, I didn’t even know why Dora was interested! Did she even know Pearl?
Dora smiled, a wide and devilish smile that seemed to swallow up her entire face.
And then she told me.
The next day, I committed my hugest mistake.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here. After Dora told me, I was, believe me, roaring to dish out some good old-fashioned retribution right then and there! But I had to go to practice and we were playing a very quiet and soulful number, and that calmed me down enough to postpone my revenge. But only postpone. When I saw Laurence Flannery again…
Oh hell, would he be in for it!
It was an accident of fortune that gave me the opportunity to do it just the day after Dora told me. I was striding across campus, my guitar case bouncing from a strap across my chest, heading to Ludwig’s flower shop. Vance was walking with me. I can’t remember why I’d decided to go to the flower shop in the first place (there’s my memory again!).
“Slow down,” huffed Vance, making a futile grab at my arm to stop me. He missed by a long shot. “Why the hell are you in such a hurry?”
I ignored him, though—but something caused me to stop dead in my tracks. That something would be Laurence Flannery, leaning against a tree a few yards in front of me, surrounded by a posse of guys he called “friends” but Vance more accurately called “minions”. He was laughing, a lit cigarette held in one hand, his ginger-red hair flashing in the sunlight.
I stopped cold, and felt a sharp spike of heat rise from my stomach and constrict my chest. There he was—the goddamned bastard—the jerk who’d abused Vance and was now preying on my helpless sixteen-year-old sister—my rage spiked as I remembered Pearl, telling me to butt out of her business, accusing me of being a bad older brother—
Burning in righteous indignity, I separated from a startled-speechless Vance and marched resolutely right up to Laurence. He noticed me, all right, and peeled himself from the tree and straightened up slightly, a quiet and dangerous light shining in his hazel eyes. He extinguished his cigarette against the tree, and fixed me with a caustic glance. The son of a bitch didn’t seem worried at all, but I’d soon show him who was boss.
“Well, hello there, Tyler—Vance,” he said. I could hear the delight that had entered his voice with the last name, and believe me that made me even angrier. “What’s up? What do you want?”
I didn’t stop to talk. I just stormed right up to him and slugged him hard as I could across his stupid smirking face.
Well, that incited one hell of a reaction! Laurence’s friends roared in shock—and maybe a little delight at seeing a fight—and Laurence himself fell hard to the ground, spitting blood and sputtering in indignity. Behind me, Vance audibly gasped and covered his mouth with a hand to hide his shock. One of his myriad girly gestures.
I ignored Vance, though. Instead, I said to Laurence, feeling enormously satisfied with myself, “That’s for you, you pedophilic son of a bitch.”
But all my satisfaction was knocked out of me—literally—when Laurence leapt up and slammed me hard in the stomach. As I crumpled, winded in pain, he snatched me by the collar and socked me in the face a good three times. My head rang with each blow, and stars burst in my vision.
“The fuck!” he roared as he hit me. “The fuck was that for?”
“My sister, you motherfucker!” I roared back so loudly I thought my jaw would pop from the effort, and then I drove my knee square into his stomach. He was startled and he dropped me, letting loose a barrage of curses that’d make even my very inhibition-less brothers Landon and Chris blush. I used this as an opening to aim a good right hook at his face, but quick as a snake his hand shot out and snatched my fist, crushing my knuckles beneath his powerful fingers. I glared at him, furious, my arm trembling. It hurt—I was sure he was going to break my bone—
“Oh, so you found out?” he said, sounding a lot calmer than he should have been. “I figured Dora couldn’t keep her mouth shut to save her fucking life.”
“And I’m glad she couldn’t!” I snarled back, wrestling my fist from his iron grip. Ignoring the smarting in my knuckles, I swung at wildly at him, catching him square on the temple. “You bastard! How the hell could you!”
“Hey—she doesn’t have a problem with it, so I don’t see why you do!” he yelled, swinging at me and hitting me in the face. I stumbled, winded, backwards away from him, sputtering indignantly and swallowing blood, my head ringing in pain. I didn’t care, though—I wanted to attack him more, the smirking idiot, I wanted to grab him with my bare hands and kill him—
But just before I could attack Laurence, I felt a someone grab my arms, restrain me, pull me back forcefully. I whirled around, startled, wanting to give the restrainer a piece of my mind—who was he to stop me, I was going to make Laurence fucking pay—
“Cut it out!” hissed Vance, his dark eyes narrowed, his face feverish. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What the fuck do you think?” I cried back, furious, struggling against his surprisingly-strong grip. He held me back, firm and resolute. “I’m defending my sister’s honor, that’s what! Now let the fuck go of me!”
“No, you idiot!” he snarled, breathing hard. He almost seemed to be on the verge of an asthma attack and if these were normal circumstances I’d be tripping all over myself in my hurry to help him, but I was too mad at Laurence to care. I continued to jerk and struggle against Vance’s steadily-tightening grip. “Think! Think about what you’re doing, damn it! You’re picking a fight with Laurence Flannery!”
“Hell if I care!” I roared, flailing in a desperate effort to pull away from him and pound in the face of Laurence Flannery, that smirking idiot, standing opposite me surrounded by his friends and not looking bothered at all. In fact, he was smirking at me, and was beckoning me with one finger. He wanted to keep fighting. Well, I’d be more than happy to give him a fight!
“I care, you moron!” howled Vance, tightening his grip on my arms to the point of painfulness as I continued trying to lunge at Laurence. “Do you want to die?”
“Let go!” With that, I finally tore free of Vance, and lunged straight for Laurence again. I caught him by surprise, grabbing the front of his shirt with one hand and whaling him—WHAM—with the other, square in the jaw. I hit him again, on the other side of his face, relishing the crack of my knuckles against his jawbone.
He pushed me off, though—by lifting his knee and driving it hard into my stomach. I staggered back, feeling sick bile rise in my throat, but regrouped and tried to leap on him again. But before I could Vance snatched me by the jacket and pulled me back, stopping me in my tracks.
“Damn you!” I howled, not sure if I was cursing Vance or Laurence. “Let me go—let me at him—”
“Don’t be an idiot!” hissed Vance, panting between the words as he fought against me, dragging me back even as I tried to lunge forward and attack Laurence. “Leave it be. Drop it. It’s better than picking a foolish fight with Laurence, damn it!”
“Belligerent much, Tyler?” scowled Laurence, wiping his mouth, a piercing glare in his hazel eyes. Several lovely bruises had blossomed on his face. I could feel my own face begin to sting, though, and I was sure I had several just as magnificent as Laurence’s. “Jesus Christ. Listen to your fucking boyfriend.”
I was too angry to listen to either of them. I still squirmed and shook in Vance’s grip, the blood still pounding in my ears, the maddening urge to kill Laurence make him pay still driving me on. “Let me go! You don’t understand—my sister—”
“You’re such a busybody, Tyler,” said Laurence with a lazy yawn—acting like the fight hadn’t even happened! I could only gawk, open-mouthed, at him. “You couldn’t keep your busybody little nose out of mine and Vance’s relationship and you still can’t keep your busybody little nose out of mine and Pearl’s. Why don’t you learn for once?”
With that, he turned around and sauntered off, acting for all the world like he hadn’t just spent the past ten minutes fighting me. His friends stood uncertainly where they were, before dashing after him. I remained standing where I was, burning in rage, helplessly watching Laurence leave without a care in the world. Vance rested his hand cautiously on my shoulder. I jerked around to face him.
“Let it go, Tyler,” he said, his voice soft.
“Easy for you to say,” I snarled, and pulled away from him. He got the message and didn’t touch me again.
We, by unspoken consent, headed back to our shared dorm room instead of continuing to Ludwig’s place. I don’t think I would have been able to stand it if Ludwig saw me all bruised—he’d instantly start fussing over me like a mother hen. I know he would. For the rest of our trip back we didn’t speak another word. The bruises on my face and stomach smarted, but I didn’t care. I could only think of Laurence, stupid, smirking Laurence Flannery, preying on my oblivious little sister Pearl…
Just before we entered the dorm, Vance suddenly stepped in my way and stood before the door, blocking my entrance. I took a step back, shocked and indignant.
“Outta the way,” I said heatedly.
“No,” he shot back, his voice as cold as mine was hot, his dark eyes sharp and serious. His face was flushed and he was breathing, hard. I could see his chest rising, and falling, in an obvious effort to draw breath. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I took an annoyed step forward. “Move out of the way.”
“I won’t.” Vance was insistent.
“You will,” I said, taking another step. “I’ll make sure you will.”
Vance took a deep breath before speaking again. “You would never do that.” His voice was quiet. Not a judgment, but a statement of the truth.
I glared at him, standing right there framed by the door—and it struck me that instant how delicate he was. He was so thin, his arms slender as willow branches, and his skin was paler than mine, even. His face was flushed beneath his hair, and the sound of his pained, laborious breathing filled my ears. There was barely any substance to him. I could, I realized, just brush him aside without any effort. I could break every bone in his slender body just by lifting my hand…
But I knew I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t. Maybe I’m not so different from Laurence, but there’s one thing to be said for me that can’t be said for him. I’ve sworn never to use violence against Vance Hikari.
So far, I haven’t. And I wasn’t about to break my promise then.
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That's only the first part...there's more to this story. I'm posting it in two parts because it's easily the longest yet.
I'm a tad nervous about this one, especially the fight scene, but at the same time reading over it makes me feel incongruously happy; I just remember how much fun I had writing these stories. I'd love to start writing them again, but am working on another project (that I also love, just not in the same way) at the same time, so...
If you even remember what Vicissitudes is...feeling free to review. Let me know if this series is worth continuing (I could work on them on the side, if I know that it's a story worth pursuing).
I'll keep posting until I run out of them (I stopped at eleven, I believe...). Hopefully you enjoy.
. All within a few days, hopefully 
.
I mean, I was here only for such a brief time...