Evan exited the apartment building in disbelief that the words had come out of his mouth so easily, and was more shocked at how profoundly he meant them. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somehow he’d fallen deeply and completely in love with Jackson Jablonic. At least that’s what he thought the feelings were. Evan ached for his lover when they were apart and slowly healed when they were together. He hoped he mended Jackson, too—sutured the cuts and gashes that his hard life had left on him. His boyfriend made Evan want to be better, made him want to be everything.
Before Jackson, Evan had existed often wishing he didn’t, his heart pumping blood that ran tepid in his veins. With Jackson, Evan was flooded with fire that sparked every cell of his body to life. He couldn’t deny that much of their heat lit up the sheets, but it wasn’t about the fucking. As incredible as their sex was, and it was by far the best Evan had ever had, it was the quiet moments spent talking, kissing, or holding each other that made him feel the most alive. He hadn’t thought that love would be in the cards for him, believing that he was owed some sort of karma for showing so little to people who probably deserved much more. He wasn’t sure what he’d done right in life, but it had to be something, otherwise he had a hard time understanding his luck.
Over the past several years he’d lost everything—his family, his home, his sobriety, himself—but none of that fazed him like it should have. He knew that some of his numbness could be attributed to the drugs, but it wasn’t only that. He’d never cared about the things that were important to other people. If something didn’t give him a thrill, he didn’t understand the point to it, so he’d stuck to painting, cocaine, and men—anything or anyone that brought him that rush. After being with Jackson, he realized that no high could beat the feeling of being in love.
Evan always thought the concept of love was overrated, but that was because he hadn’t felt it.
Until now.
Panic quickly set in when he considered that perhaps Jackson hadn’t been alluding to love when he’d asked him why he grabbed on. Maybe he’d meant something different, more psychological. Had Evan really told a man that he loved him without actually knowing if it was something Jackson felt in return? It wouldn’t matter either way. It wasn’t as though Evan would be able to stop loving Jack if he didn’t love him back. Evan was too far gone for that and expected that at some point he’d be left with his love while Jackson moved on to somebody less complicated.
Pain wasn’t new to Evan. He’d dealt with it before and he’d deal with it again if he had to. Still, the agony of not having Jackson would be crueler than all the trials of Evan’s past.
Reaching into his backpack, he put on his blue beanie, covering his head from the chill of the late September night. Though it was too early for it, the crisp air smelled like snow, making him want to pack some into his nose. He ducked into the alley so he could pour the white powder onto the back of his hand and snorted it up quickly before continuing on his way.
The night was going to be long. He couldn’t go down the line from corner to corner. In order to have less of a chance of being caught, he needed to skip around and then come back and hit the ones he’d passed. Lighting up a cigarette, he started toward the farthest point, deciding to work his way back the best he could. The territory had been Dem Demonz’s before it was taken over by the Block Boys, who had been struggling over the last couple of months to evade the cops, causing their numbers to dwindle greatly. Evidently, the KKz were making a move to take it over before the DDz could take it back.
Truly, Evan didn’t give a shit. For the most part, he did what he was told and stayed out of the politics. The gangs wanted to get pissed about everything and he didn’t have it in him to get worked up over corners as long as he was getting what he needed.
It seemed Kane thought Evan would be more invested in the Klown Killerz than he’d actually become. His brother had been making comments recently about Evan’s marked absence at night and low affect in regard to gang-related business. Instead of worrying about letting him down, Evan wondered why his brother would’ve thought that Evan would get wrapped up in the scene.
He’d never understand why his family would expect him to be different when he never demonstrated a willingness to change. They always wanted him to be somebody else, but he knew only how to be himself. He never tried to tell them how to live their lives, but they didn’t grant him the same consideration.
When he thought back to his childhood, he was unable to reflect on a time where they’d been truly supportive. To them, badgering him to get clean was showing their love, but that wasn’t the type of love he needed. He’d spent his whole life screaming into silence and still nobody heard—until Jackson.
With Evan’s siblings, it was always about how he could lessen their loads. The only time they’d looked for him was when they needed something. Growing up without parents was challenging for all of them, but they’d never treated him the way they treated each other. When Emma or Paul got themselves into trouble, the family rallied around them. It was always as if their poor decisions were a blip on an otherwise perfect record, while Evan’s were who he was.
When he was fifteen, he met a guy named Jorge, who was visiting from Texas. They’d fucked around while he was in town and after he headed back home, they’d kept in touch texting each other. It wasn’t that he gave much of a shit about Jorge, but he was gay, easy, and lived far away from Chicago. All qualities that made him significantly more attractive than he was. When he first suggested that Evan come down for a visit, he’d told him to “fuck off.” He became more interested when Jorge sweetened the deal, sending pictures of the mansion he lived in with a huge pool in the backyard and telling him that his dad was going to Mexico running for his gang that weekend. Evan was enticed by the idea of freedom and spending time in a nice house, with an actual in-ground pool. He felt like he was entitled to an adventure. He’d never left Illinois. His life was flat and boring. He didn’t tell anybody he was going before he did. It took him three days to hitchhike to Texas and once he got down there he stayed for four, fucking, smoking, and blowing copious amounts of Jorge’s dad’s cocaine.
He arrived back on the South Side eleven days later with gonorrhea and a coke habit. The first thing Emma did when he opened the door was ask him to take his little brother Sammy to the park. He argued with her, saying that Paul should take him, but she’d informed him that he was studying at Rachel’s, as he had been all week. Apparently, he had SATs coming up and doing well on them was of paramount importance to the family. Evan never asked her if she’d noticed that he was gone, because either she had and didn’t care, or hadn’t and that was probably worse. So he took Sammy to the park, and when he came back home nobody brought up his absence, leading him to wonder if he’d dreamed it up and never actually left. His burning piss and craving for coke assured him that he had.
He shook his head at the memory, stomping his cigarette on the ground once he’d reached the first corner. There was nothing to their tag, just a stupid sad face in maroon. He sprayed it quickly, hoping that if he kept a good pace he’d be able to get back to Jackson when he was still at least half awake. By the time he’d hit all of the corners, his legs were sore and his fingers were cramped.
Evan (3:15am): Hey
Evan (3:23am): U awake?
A bit of anxiety began to build in his chest, worried that he’d said too much and Jackson was freaked the fuck out. He always left his ringer on so his texts would wake him if he fell asleep, but still there was no reply.
Evan (3:30am): Ignoring me asshole?
Evan (3:35am): U fucking asked
Evan (3:38am): Don’t kno what u wanted
Evan (3:40am): 4 me to lie?
He sighed and walked briskly toward DDz territory. It wasn’t nearby and he probably should’ve been able to talk himself out of it on his trek, but his stubborn mind was leading the way. He wasn’t sure what he thought he’d accomplish by doing it, but he felt compelled to anyway. Getting out his blue paint can, he began to spray right over the DD’s logo, immediately feeling calmer than he had moments earlier. Once he’d completed his piece, he stood back to admire it. Both he and Jackson could look at it as a “Fuck you,” an “I love you,” or maybe a “Fuck you, I love you.” Regardless of how his boyfriend took it, Evan liked the work and felt pretty proud of it, and that felt like enough at the time.
Evan (3:52am): Going back 2 my place
Evan (3:53am): When U wake up go 2 corner of Grant & St. Lawrence
Evan (3:53am): I’m not there but something else is
Evan (3:55am): If it makes u mad fuck u
Evan (3:56am): If u like it fuck u anyway
He lit up one last cigarette as he made his way back to his place, thinking how odd it was that he hadn’t spent a night in his bed in months. He was in his room a lot during the day, but it felt strange to be alone at this hour. Once he closed the door behind him, he turned off his phone and rested his tired body down.
Before falling asleep he chided himself for being so forthcoming with his emotions.
He guessed it was just nice to feel them.