Subject: Unplanned love chapter 09 Nifty is a free site, but still requires funds to continue operating. Please provide a donation at This story is 100% fictional. Any resemblances to actual people (living or dead), organizations or companies, events are entirely coincidental. Comments are welcomed and would be very much appreciated. Asterisk (*) will be used for past events, dreams and thoughts. …… . …… Chapter 09 I barely can keep my eyes open. An invisible force is pulling me down. It has been three hours since I heard Niklas lurking around the house and then the front door closing. The apartment fell into absolute silence, but, disturbed by my housemate’s fun night, I wasn’t able to fall asleep. When I finally could feel my eyes closing, the sun was already rising. I go to the bathroom, slamming the door shut, hard and loud. If I can’t sleep, neither can Marcel. I take a long shower, hoping that the warm water will relieve the knots in my shoulders. Then, I wrap the towel around my waist and look myself in the mirror. I look tired. The dark circles around my eyes are more visible then ever. I sigh, a little bit glad I don’t have to spend much time in the bathroom. I don’t have to style my hair, since my once curly hair was replaced by a buzz cut and I can’t grow a beard, so I don’t have to worry about shaving. Though sometimes it bothers me having a perpetual boy-bace. I don’t look 27 at all. Being challenged in the beard department I get constantly mistaken for someone younger. I always wondered how would I look like with a beard. Probably a lot older and more mature. I shake my head, clearing the useless and silly thoughts out of my mind. I grab my deodorant, but notice that it was used. I also check my other things in the bathroom. It’s all misplaced. My first thought goes to Marcel. But he’s probably sleeping, so who was in the bathroom before me. *Niklas.* I finish changing and stomp out of the bathroom, shooting homicidal glances at Marcel’s door. Lucifur is anxious for his breakfast, so I try to feed him and clean his litter box. It’s at that moment that I hear Marcel entering the bathroom and turning on the shower. I leave the laundry room and wait for him in the hall with the chores schedule in my hands. Ten minutes pass before he comes out. “Did you read it?” I shove the paper in front of his face as soon as he opens the door. “Good morning, Liam.” He dries his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. “You can’t leave dirty dishes lying around the house.” I say, trying not to get distracted by his naked torso. “It will bring insects inside. Not only that, some foods are dangerous to my cat.” “I was about to clean everything.” He tries to walk to his room, but I block the way with my body. “I’ve already done that. I’m not a maid, Marcel. Try to remember you’re not the only person living in here.” “Are you done?” he snorts, impatient. “I have a board meeting in an hour. Could you let me through?” “Not yet. I appreciate you setting up the bookcase, but that doesn’t give your friend, or whatever he is to you, the right to use my things. They are personal. Also, you can’t just throw whatever you want anywhere. In your room, it’s fine. But not outside it. We share the common spaces, as well as the rent, so it’s only fair that we come to a civilized term. I’ve made a household chores list to keep order.” I push the paper on him. Since he remains motionless, I shove the paper into his chest… quite hard, I realize. “We start today. You take the kitchen and the bathroom and I’ll do the living and laundry room… Hey! Where are you going?” But my calls fall into deaf ears, as Marcel just passes me, “I’ll love to hear your lecture later, but right now I need to run. You can keep yelling at me when I get back.” And he disappears into his room, slamming the door before I can react. I want to go after him, but I only let out a groan, before picking up my backpack and leaving the house. Nina locks her door as soon as my feet touches the first floor and it doesn’t take her long to notice my state of mind. “Why do you look like someone cussed your mother…” She frowns, starting to walk down the Blog İçerik Tabanlı Sosyal Ağı Sitesi stairs with me. “Worse, Nina. Much worse.” I vent all my frustrations about Marcel and Niklas and their loud sex that kept me up all night, the mess in the house, and Marcel’s audacity in just ignoring me when I was talking to him about the household chores. Instead of sharing my anger, my friend finds it amusing. “It’s funny the way this guy gets under your skin.” She bites her lower lip to stop herself from squirming. I glare at her. “This isn’t funny at all. You don’t know how annoying he is.” “Of course…” She gives me a cynical smile, which I ignore. I need to make an arrangement with the transporter to pick up the paintings from Ivan’s studio in Dusseldorf, discuss with Stefanie the possible menus for Bianca’s wedding and call Sarah to line up the last details of the baby shower. My life is already a mess without adding Marcel to the list of problems. But then Nina reminds me of something that cools my anger off. “Did you talk to him about your fake relationship?” “I didn’t.” I sigh heavily. “But I’ll try again tonight.” The problem is that we end up having an event that night, which lasts much longer than it should, and I get home almost at dawn. And something similar happens the next day. Then the weekend comes and I don’t even see him. I plan to talk to him on Monday, but he comes home with Niklas, and I spend another sleepless night with my headphones on full volume. And for three days straight, he comes home with Niklas and leaves early in the morning for work. Then he starts bringing other boys in the house. One louder than the other. The pattern becomes a constant: I work all day long at the agency, I run around from one event to another that sometimes go on all night, and on the rare nights when I can rest, Marcel and his boytoys don’t let me sleep, so that a month passes by without me realizing it. I’ve barely seen him in the last few weeks, but his presence prowls the apartment, even in his absence. It’s weird, and I’ve found myself looking forward to the next meeting in an almost paranoid state. I’m also looking forward to the new medication having some effect on my mother’s memory. Every evening I call her, but neither my brother nor I have noticed any progress so far. Anyway, with an average of two hours sleep a night for the last four weeks, it’s no surprise that I feel like a schnitzel that was hit by the meat mallet more than it should in that Thursday morning, and I need to think about the vernissage that will take place later in the day. As I take breakfast, my brain starts processing all the things I have to do today. Ivan is a difficult person to deal with. He arrived the day before to take part of everything, and I almost threw everything up in the air. He argued with Michael, trying to teach the most competent of electrical engineers the best way to use the light, shouted at Nina, made Katya cry, tried hit on Eric and almost got into a fight with the driver that had brought his paintings. If he behaves like this in front of the press, I don’t know what I might do… Distracted by my own problems, I don’t realize that someone is walking around the house until the cute blond boy with blue eyes enters the kitchen. I quickly recognise the red uniform of a electronic store. He has the same body type as Niklas. And they are probably around the same age. I wouldn’t give him more then 25. It seems to me that Marcel has type. “Ah, hi.” The boy turns red when he sees me. “I just wanted to get water.” He looks at me. He is nervous and a little bit shy. I hand him a glass of water. “Thank you,” he says as he takes the drink, smiling softly. “Marcel mentioned that he is living with someone. Are you guys…” “Just housemates.” I hurry to say. “Ah,” he exhales, taking a big gulp of water. “I thought he lied about being single.” He looks at me awkwardly and then extends his hand to me, “name’s Stefan by the way.” “Liam.” I take his hand and shake it, giving him a smile. Our hands stay locked longer than necessary. When we finally let go of eachother’s hand, I look at his face Sesli Kitap Dinle and notice him blushing. Still, he finishes his water and hands me the now empty glass. “Well, I have to go to work, or else I’ll be late. It was nice meeting you, Liam.” he smiles lightly. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.” From the amount of guys coming and going in this apartment, I doubt very much I’ll see him again. But I walk him out, annoyed in many ways – shouldn’t Marcel be the one saying goodbye to his… friends? And that’s before I open the door for Stefan and come face to face with my landlady. “Helga!” I almost shout. “Good morning, Liam. I just dropped by to see how you and your boyfriend are getting on.” Hearing the last part, Stefan’s eyes widen and he turns pale. “But you said…” stammers the boy, but I quickly cut in. “That I would love organising your birthday party,” I say, desperate, as Helga examines him from top to bottom, watching his messy hair and crumpled clothes. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I have everything sketched.” Then I turn to the lady, “Why don’t you come in and have some tea with me?” Without waiting for either of them to reply, I pull Helga inside and I push Stefan out and close the door. “He is…my cousin,” I say to Helga as she’s still looking at me suspiciously. “His birthday is next week and I offered to organise the party.” “I see.” Helga stops at the foot of the sofa, her perceptive gaze roaming the room and taking in every single thing that is out of place. All Marcel’s. Even with few free hours, I’m trying hard to fulfill my part of the chores schedule, which Marcel doesn’t bother to read, let alone following it. So I hurry to collect the forgotten beer bottles on the small table. “Marcel and I… uh… had a little celebration last night.” Ah, the lies continue coming. Am I never going to get rid of them? “I got promoted a few weeks ago and we only got to celebrate yesterday and… Why don’t we go to the kitchen?” She holds up her thin hands, refusing. “I’m not here to bother you. You look like you’re ready to leave. I just want to ask you something. Some neighbours are complaining about strange people walking around the building. Young men basically. Especially after midnight… And they always come with your boyfriend.” She looks at me straight in the eyes. “Do you know anything about it?” “Young men?… No. I haven’t seen anything. I’ve been getting home so late and so messed up I don’t even look like myself. Maybe someone saw us and didn’t recognize me.” I force a smile. She nods, staring at me with such intensity that I start sweating. But then she says, “Well, let me know if you see anything suspicious.” “Yes, yes, of course.” I walk her to the door, sighing hard as she leaves. Almost at the same time, Marcel leaves his bedroom and crosses the room on his way to the kitchen. Annoyed, I go after him. “Hey, we need to…” I stop talking as soon as he closes the fridge and I realize that he’s wearing nothing but underwear. “Hey! You can’t walk around like that.” “Why not?” Balancing the orange juice carton, he reaches over to grab a glass from the sink. The one Stefan used. *Because I don’t want to be reminded how dangerously fine you are,* my brain replies, “Because someone can come here and I don’t want them to see you like this!” Pouring himself some juice, he sips it all in one long gulp. “I wouldn’t mind them seeing me like this. Besides it’s too warm to wear clothes.” “New rules. No walking around the house without clothes on.” I raise a finger. Then another. “And the coming and going of your friends will have to stop.” Leaving the glass on the table, he crosses his arms, “Give me one good reason I should do that.” I huff, impatient. “In the sink. Dirty dishes belong in the sink.” I put the glass in the sink before turning to face him. “First of all, your fun nights with your boytoys is disturbing my sleep. All those loud moans are driving me crazy. I swear, if I have to spend another sleepless night listening to you having sex, I’m going to enter into that bedroom and throw cold water on both of you. I’m serious.” He becomes embarrassed, as I see his neck and Exxen ears turning red. “I didn’t know you could hear us.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, relaxing his arms. “Yes, I can. Loud and clear. And I’m not the only one being bothered by it. Your sex life is disturbing the neighbours. Helga was here just a few minutes ago. She said she wanted to check if we’re okay, but I’m sure it was just a pretext to see if we are really a couple. She knows you’ve been coming home with different men and she saw one of them today. I don’t know if she believed in the story about him being my cousin, but she isn’t dumb. It won’t take long before she finds out that we aren’t together, and then we’ll have to find somewhere else to live. Think about how this affects me. Do think that having strangers in the house doesn’t bother me? I don’t like them going through my stuff, using my shampoo and deodorant without my permission. This isn’t a hotel!” I finish talking, a little out of breath. We face each other for a moment, my chest rising and falling too fast, and it takes me a little longer to realize how close we are. “I agree,” he says dropping the embarrassment and assuming a more serious posture. “I’d love to get home and not finding cat’s hair on my pillow.” I open my mouth to dispute the accusation, but stop myself, looking at cat, which is sneaking through the door. “Well…” I bite my lip. “This wouldn’t happen if you closed your bedroom door before going to work.” “Oh, now it’s my fault that your cat leaves hair everywhere in my bedroom?” “In a way. Honestly, Marcel, look at the chaos you create.” I open my arms to the messy zone that is the kitchen. “Did you at least look at the schedule I gave you four weeks ago? You don’t even do your own dishes.” His cheeks inflates as he lets out a sharp intake of air. “Here you go again. Rules and rules. It’s fucking annoying. Have you ever tried to have some fun in your life? I guess not. You prefer going to great lengths to destroy people’s lives. Tell me Liam, do you do it on purpose or is it something that happens naturally?” His comment hits me right in the pit of my stomach, making me nauseous. The guilt that I learned to keep under control gnaws its claws into my chest, threatening to break free. I fight it back as best as I can, and I think he sees it, because regret replaces the anger in his eyes. “Liam, listen, that’s not what I…” But I’m already leaving the kitchen. It’s without seeing where I’m going that I walk to the pavement and take the bus. I knew if I stayed in that kitchen we would end up physically fighting, and I don’t want that. I intend to spend the next thirty minutes on the bus that would take me to the building where the vernissage would take place. Meanwhile, Marcel’s words remains there, tattooed on my brain. My stomach churns, I pull my phone out of my pants pocket and call the number I know by memory since I was a teenager. My eyes become wet as soon as I hear her voice on the other end of the line. “Liam, my son, I miss you so much.” My mother says excitedly. I close my eyes tightly, absorbing the joy with which she always welcomes me. “Me too, mom. I wanted to come and see you today, but I won’t be able to.” I try to sound excited. “How are you feeling today?” “Liam, are you ok? Did something happen?” I always wonder if mothers possess some sort of magical power that can detect trouble in their children just by the way they breath. “No, nothing happened.” I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. “I just… I think I caught a cold.” “Oh, Liam. You need to eat better. All this frozen crap you eat is no good for your health. A good soup and some orange juice might do you good. Your brother also is not doing so well. He spends all day in that computer playing those violent video games, now he has back pain…” She then goes into her mother mode, talking about how video games are bad and Lukas not eating properly. I know that he’s making some money streaming himself while playing those games, but he spends so many hours doing that, his back is now complaining. I let her do the talking. I love listening to her voice; it calms me down. However, I have no luck this time. Marcel’s comment still creeps into my mind, poisoning it. I shake my head and do everything I can to concentrate on my mother’s words. As long as I keep my mind focused on her, I can ignore Marcel and pretend that what he said isn’t the sad truth.