ABOMINATIONS

KYLE

The house was quiet, the only noise filling the living room the soft snoring coming from a tangle of limbs and a mess of scruffy red hair on the couch. Skye was dead asleep, his face squished against the pillow, which sported a decent sized puddle of drool. A younger man appeared at the side of the couch, like a ghost, and nudged his sleeping friend with his knee.

"Hey, Skye," he said. "Get up," he added, raising his voice.

Skye made some unintelligible grunting.

"C'mon man, I made you some coffee," The black-haired boy insisted, showing Skye the two mugs he had in his hands.

"Mmmm, five more minutes," Skye bargained before turning his head around.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," said the other, setting the mugs down and grabbing the TV remote. It was turned to the news, as usual, and the man was talking about a robbery that had happened the night before.

"Good morning, Nevada. We've got quite the story for you today. Last night, West Bank was robbed. Over $350,000 in cash was taken from the vault, and the perpetrators left no trace or clues to their identities or whereabouts.

"The police are still looking for any leads, or anybody who might have witnessed the criminals before or after they entered the bank."

"Hey, lookie there, Max!" Skye announced, suddenly awake. "We're on the news."

"Yeah," Max agreed reluctantly. "I guess we are. Sorta."

"Too bad they'll never find us," Skye said confidently, sitting up and stretching his arms above him.

Max sipped his coffee, enjoying its warmth. "Mmmhmm, hopefully," he said after he swallowed.

Skye heard the sound of soft yet clunky footsteps and turned around to see Kyle emerging from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes and looking like he was still not quite awake.

"Good morning, your highness," the redhead said dramatically, waving at Kyle.

"Shut the fuck up, Skye," Kyle grumbled back, flipping him the bird, although he had a small, amused smile on his face. Skye beamed back.

"Come watch the news," he said, pointing to the TV. "It's all about us."

"Is it now?" Kyle asked. He walked lazily towards the couch, where Skye was sitting comfortably, his legs spread wide. "Move it," Kyle demanded.

"Say please, Kyle! C'mon, didn't your mama teach you manners?"

"I'll sit on you."

Skye slid sideways to make room for Kyle, not wanting to induce his friend's wrath this early in the morning. He laughed awkwardly and kept a wary eye on Kyle as the older boy sat down next to him.

"They don't know it's us, do they?"

"Of course not," Max replied. "They're totally stumped."

"I almost wish they'd come after us," Kyle sighed. "This is so rinse and repeat, it's starting to get boring."

"You WANT them to come after us?" Skye parroted in disbelief.

"It would be more entertaining than sitting around, not even able to really spend a lot of our cut."

"But I'm employed!" Skye said proudly, smirking sideways at Kyle, who did not have a job. "They won't ever think we're suspicious."

"You work part-time at a shitty video game store. That doesn't exactly pay much." Max pointed out.

Skye deflated. "I guess you're right."

Kyle put his hand on Skye's shoulder reassuringly. "I mean, it's not like we can't spend ANY money, we just can't go out and do something stupid, like buy a brand new Lexus in cash."

"Pfft, who'd want a Lexus anyway?" Max asked with a shrug.

"Mmhmm, I'd go for a Lambo, myself."

Kyle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That 's not the point, you dumbasses. I just mean we can't fling around cash like a bunch of drug dealers and draw attention to ourselves."

Max chuckled and set his coffee mug down on the table, sitting cross legged on the floor and letting his chin rest in his hand. "We're just messing with you, Kyle. We know what you meant."

"Whatever," Kyle said with a roll of his eyes. He stood up, bored of the conversation, and headed to the kitchen to sate the hunger growing in his stomach. It was a bright morning, and the light from the window easily lit up the kitchen. Kyle made his way over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door, wondering if there were still any microwavable waffles left or if Skye ate all of them the night before.

A shadow passed over the door of the refrigerator and Kyle turned his head to look out the window. When he did, his heart forgot to work for a few moments, and when it did it went into hyperdrive. He knew that beautiful face anywhere, and he knew, very painfully, that it was not real. He slammed the freezer door shut and marched up to the window, ignoring her pleasant smile and closing the curtains with such force he ripped one of the rings off of the curtain rack. He spun back around and put his back against the wall next to the window, breathing heavily and shaking his head.

Not real, he reminded himself.

His breakfast forgotten, Kyle returned to the living room, eager, for once, to get back to his annoying friends and forget all about what had just occurred. His heart, again, was not prepared for shocks of the sort he was experiencing at the early hour he was experiencing them, and for a moment he was unable to respond before the scene in front of him and only managed to let out a very intelligent sounding "uhh."

Skye had max pinned to the floor, both of them stomach-down. Skye was on all fours, and Max was sprawled out, his legs and arms apart. Both of them were breathing heavily. Max's face was a shade of red akin to that of his favorite jacket, but Skye didn't seem fazed about the position they were in or that the two of them had just been walked in on.

There was an intensely awkward moment of silence before Kyle was able to get his feet to work again, turning in the direction his bedroom was in. "If you guys want some privacy, you can just ask..."

Max's face, somehow, got even redder. Kyle thought he was going to pop like a balloon. "It's not like that! He shouted, his voice too loud in the otherwise quiet room."

"Yeah!" Skye piped in. "He said my hair looks stupid at this length!" I wasn't about to take that lying down!"

"Skye, your hair looks stupid at that length," Kyle deadpanned.

The redhead rolled off of max and curled into a ball, half underneath the coffee table, making whining noises.

"What a crybaby," Kyle said, making sure he was loud enough that Skye could hear him.

"I swear," Max said with a grunt, standing up from the floor and brushing himself off. "If he doesn't get a haircut soon, I'll cut if off myself when he's sleeping."

"That didn't go so well last time," Kyle said, and memories of him being woken up by the sound of an all-out fistfight at two in the morning surfaced in his head. Evidently, Max had tried to cut Skye's hair shorter while he was asleep, and Skye headbutted Max before he was even fully awake or aware of what was going on. It escalated from there, and before too long Kyle had to break up the fight, and purchase a new lamp the next morning.

"Hmph," Max grunted. "You try it then."

Kyle shook his head, pivoting on his foot and heading back into his room. "No interest," he said, shutting the door behind him.

"Jerk," mumbled Max under his breath.

"My life is over!" Skye wailed, now sitting in the corner with his face to the wall.

"Skye, c'mon man, quit moping. Why don't we go out and do something?"

"What's the point?" Skye moaned, tears streaming down his cheeks. He sounded like he was on a bad soap opera. "I can't go out with my hair looking stupid!"

Max groaned. "Dude, quit being a drama queen. Just come over here and I'll braid if for you."

Skye turned his head to look at Max, and then scooted his body around to face him. "Oooh, will you really?" He asked excitedly, his sadness suddenly forgotten.

"Yeah, I guess so," Max said. "Sit on the couch."

"I didn't even know you could braid hair!" Skye exclaimed, standing up and making his way over to the couch to sit down.

"You kinda pick it up when you have multiple older sisters," Max replied.

Kyle couldn't get her face out of his head. He had been doing so well, it had been almost a week, and then he lost control again, he got too comfortable, and whatever part of his fucked up brain was making him keep seeing her everywhere started up again. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a literal snap — and when he opened his mouth the top of his toothbrush clattered into the sink.

"Fuck," he muttered, picking it up and disposing it in the trashcan next to the toilet that was home to a few other busted toothbrushes. "I just bought that one, too."

He splashed some water on his face and then left the bathroom, regretting his earlier decision of not getting breakfast and heading back towards the kitchen to try and find something to eat for the second time. When he walked into the living room he saw Skye and Max fully dressed. Skye's hair was in braids, which Kyle thought but would never admit out loud was a good look for him. Max was scrolling through his phone as Skye was putting on his shoes.

"Hey, Kyle, do you want to come with us?" Max asked, looking up from his phone screen. "We're going to Vegas for a bit to gamble."

"What?" Kyle asked. "Neither of you are twenty-one."

In unison, Skye and Max both held up fake IDs that would probably work if whoever was checking them was drunk. And blind. "You guys are so stupid," he told them flatly.

"Look on the bright side, man," Skye said, standing up and slipping his fake ID back into his wallet. "You'll have the place to yourself for a few hours. You're always griping about how you want some peace and quiet."

"Eh, that's true," Kyle agreed.

"We'll be back before dinner," Max chimed in. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us? You'll increase our chances of getting in since you're actually of age."

"No, I'll stay here and I guess make dinner."

"Kyle's cooking dinner?" Skye exclaimed, like a dog that heard the word scraps. He pumped his fist in the air. "Hell yes! I can't wait!"

"Do you want us to bring anything back on the way home?" Max asked.

"No, I'll just go out and get whatever I need. The store's within walking distance, and I need some exercise anyway."

Skye gave Kyle a thumbs-up and a wide grin, and then shouted, "I'm driving!" directly into Max's ear.

"Like hell you are," Max growled. "Besides, I already have the keys." He held up the keys and jingled them in front of Skye's face.

Skye continued to pout as the two of them left the house, and then it was silent. Kyle watches them pull out of the driveway, and then he sits down on the couch to watch TV. While the news is playing in the background he opens his phone and creates a new Note, then stares at the blank screen for a while trying to decide what he's in the mood to cook. He settles on the simple spaghetti and meatballs, and types out everything he'll need. He thought to himself that he might as well cook dinner while they were out, or else they would come home with an excessive amount of unhealthy food. The only time they ate real food was when he cooked. Sometimes he felt like he was their mom.

About an hour later, Kyle is dressed and ready to leave. He stops once again in the bathroom first and opens the cabinet, moving aside some hand towels and grabbing a small, orange prescription bottle, opening it and taking one of the pills, washing it down with a glass of water next to the sink. He puts the bottle back in its hiding place and took a long look at himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and then left the house, locking it behind him and heading to the grocery store. Since Skye was the only three of them that had a real job, he had "dibs" on the car, and Max went out with his friends when Skye wasn't using it, which usually meant Kyle was stuck walking everywhere. Luckily there were sidewalks and nothing was too far away.

Within an hour he was back home, setting down the grocery bags on the counter. He then made a beeline for the refrigerator and chugged an entire bottle of water. It was a hot day, and he cursed himself for not bringing a bottle with him, or buying one at the store. He took back everything he said about walking not being that bad.

It was quiet, too quiet, while Kyle was cooking. He turned on music on his phone to fill the silence. It wasn't very often that both Skye and Max were gone; either Skye was at work and Max was home, Max was out with friends and Skye was home, or the three of them were out doing something. The house felt empty without Skye yelling at the TV while watching his game shows, or the sound of Max's guitar coming from his room. Kyle would never tell them, but he did like having them around, especially since he never had any brothers, or other siblings, growing up. Those goons, whether he liked it or not, were his family.

He strained the spaghetti and put it back into the pot so it would stay warm while he waited for them to get back. The sauce and meatballs were ready as well. Kyle looked at the clock on the oven. It was 6:30. "I should have gone with them," he said to himself. "They're probably having a great time."

While he let dinner sit on the stove, he pulled out his phone and texted the group chat with the three of them.

KYLE: Dinner's ready dipshits.

It took a moment for them to respond. The group chat was currently named SERIOUS FUCKY WUCKY, courtesy of Skye. It was almost as if his hobby was coming up with nonsensical names for their group chat.

SKYE: you miss us? :))

KYLE: No.

SKYE: he misses us, max. we should head home. where did you go?

MAX: Where did YOU go? I'm at the same slot machine I was at ten minutes ago when you took off.

SKYE: ohhhh I'm in the bathroom lol

MAX: Dude what the fuck? That's nasty, get off your phone!

SKYE: =P

Kyle rolled his eyes and turned off his phone. He made a bowl of spaghetti for himself and sat down on the couch to watch TV.

Skye and Max were home about thirty minutes later. Max looked tired and deflated but Skye was glowing.

"You wanna see all the money I won? Money I can actually spend because I legally won it gambling?"

"You didn't legally win it, you're twenty."

Skye pulled out a wad of cash and sniffed it dramatically. "I smell jealousy," he purred, fanning himself with what looked to be a few hundred dollars.

"Big deal. What about you Max?" Kyle asked, turning to their solemn black-haired friend.

"I lost $500 and I had to give some dude my favorite watch," he grumbled.

Kyle couldn't help but laugh.

It was almost a good day.

Kyle was scrolling through the news app on his phone, minding his own business, when a notification popped up on his calendar reminding him that it was time to refill his prescription. As if seeing that he only had two pills left earlier in the morning didn't tell him. He dismissed it. It wasn't like he really needed it anyway. Maybe he just wouldn't refill it this month.

"You're not thinking about not getting your antidepressants refilled, are you Kyle?" came a voice from behind him.

He didn't even turn around. He could feel Andi's presence next to him, hear her breathing. Sometimes she was so fucking real.

"Please get them Kyle. You need to take care of yourself. What if you get hurt?"

"Leave me alone," Kyle says, staring at his hands. "You're not even real. You're in my head. The real you is... I don't know. Hopefully somewhere safe, and alive. The only thing hurting me right now is you."

"Oh, my poor Kyle," she sighed, and walked around his bed, caressing his chin with her hand and pulling his head up so her eyes could meet his. "You've got it wrong... the only thing hurting you is yourself."

Suddenly Kyle's door slammed open and all at once Andi was gone, along with her warmth. Kyle looked up to see Skye, eagerly bouncing. "Chopped is on, man, come watch it with us!"

"Is it a new episode or a rerun?" Kyle asked.

"It's new! Get you ass out here!"

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, getting up and following Skye out of his room.