Discreet Still

Derick First Person Point Of View

The boys cranked up their motors and were off and running again. I took a split second to glance back over my shoulder at where Cyrus had disappeared. I really ought to have chased after him, checked on him. But I didn't.

So, I rode off with the guys, and dude, the bikes were creating all this racket in the darkness. But I could seriously not get over this feeling that I'd bump into Cyrus once more. There was something about him that was completely lodged in my mind now. Something I just could not let go of.

But I wasn't entirely sure if I did.

I locked my bike and raised my visor and suddenly this incredible party atmosphere hit me.

The music was blasting so loudly you could feel it, not only hear it. I removed my helmet, shook my hair out, and scoped out what was happening.

Cars lined the street, and the lawn was full of people already drinking, stumbling, and talking way too loud for no reason. Typical night.

I heard the doors close behind me. I looked back and saw Marcus and this girl he had picked up, her mini skirt practically slipping off her as she tugged it down.

She gave me that look—one of her 'I know I'm cute' grins—but I wasn't paying much attention. She staggered her way to the house, and Marcus was right beside her, completely stuck to her hip.

I scoffed and headed toward the porch. At the table, there were bottles half-empty, solo cups stacked high.

I grabbed one and discovered this nearly flat champagne, so I poured it until the bubbles began flowing over. The party was already crazy, and I had not even arrived yet.

I strode in and was hit with this wall of sweat and heat. Everyone was packed in there, bouncing and grinding to whatever terrible song was thundering out of the speakers.

The entire area was abuzz. I cut through the crowd with ease, folks parting like they received the message. I did not need to utter a word—my expression spoke volumes.

I leaned back against the wall, sipped some champagne, and surveyed the crowd. Same atmosphere as ever.

These guys who are jamming in the corners and this girl's already in a room with Marcus. Typical style, right? Absolutely normal behavior, you know?

I was a bit bored, so I took out my phone from my pocket and opened up the calculator.

But this was not an actual calculator or anything. There was the Grindr icon simply floating underneath—totally sly. Nobody needed to know what I was doing.

I scrolled through the blank profiles. Nothing interesting. Same Boys, same boring conversations.

To be honest, I didn't even know what I was searching for. Possibly something to get my mind off things. Nothing caught my attention particularly, so I simply returned my phone to my pocket.

I caught a glance out of the corner of my eye and saw my friends messing around with these girls over there, giving them a hard time like always.

I was ready to go over and possibly partake in the fun when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I reached in and grabbed it, expecting some sort of random thing, but nope.

A message on Grindr.

"At a house party?"

My eyes narrowed as I stared at the screen.

I glanced briefly at the note, considering if the person who had sent it was someone familiar.

The party was really crowded, so it wasn't a huge issue. I simply responded, playing it cool.

Hello, you there?

I put my phone in my pocket and leaned back against the wall, savoring another mouthful of champagne.

The bass was pounding in the room, and I just sat there watching my friends cracking up and the girls attempting to push them away, but getting pulled back in by all the joking.

Marcus was off now—likely relaxing in some back room with this girl—and things were looking pretty typical for the rest of the night.

These were always the same type of parties: drinking and fighting and groups of couples kissing in the corners. The Message would introduce a little variety.

My phone vibrated once again. I picked it up and glanced at the screen. The text was brief.

"Maybe. Look around."

I frowned as I scanned the crowd. There were simply too many faces and moving shadows beneath the bright flashing lights. Nothing caught my attention. I sent off a response.

"Where?"

A pause. The music was starting to drown out everything else, and I felt the heat building in the room. My phone buzzed again.

"By the stairs."

I picked up my head and scanned the room at the steps. It was really crowded, but I saw this person just leaning against the railing.

Her hair is blonde and she has her eyes cast down, attempting to conceal.

The dimness of the lights sort of obscured his face, but the manner in which he was simply standing there—waiting for someone—spoke volumes.

I moved away from the wall and tossed the empty cup onto a nearby table.

The crowd was dense, but I pushed through and made a beeline for the stairs.

I drew nearer and the individual glanced up and met my gaze briefly before averting his eyes.

I kept back a bit, waiting for them to take the first step.

Another buzz. I did not even need to check my phone to know who it was.

"Close enough?"

I smiled and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and leaned in somewhat and spoke a bit softer.

“You the one texting me?”

He didn't say anything at first; he just sort of leaned in and displayed those incredible eyes, and I definitely saw the dark iris in his eye.

Yes, this guy, but not any ordinary guy. There was something strange, like extremely strange, in the way he was staring at me.

He simply nodded and remained silent, giving a little smile as if he completely understood.

I tilted my head and eyed him.

“What’s your deal?”

The man shrugged and eyed me up and down as if checking me out as well.

"Just passing through," he said, kinda difficult to hear him over the music.

“Saw you. Thought you might be fun.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Hold on a minute. What's your reasoning?

His lips were inches from the nape of my neck as he moved in closer.

"I can tell." He spoke quietly, as if he was whispering, but you could detect a challenge in his voice.

I didn't know whether to laugh or push him away, but there was something about him which stopped me.

Perhaps it was his confidence or perhaps it was simply the fact that no one else in this room caught my eye like he did.

I could not say anything before my phone vibrated again in my pocket. I simply ignored it, completely absorbed in him now.

He straightened up and stared straight into my eyes and then stepped back. He had disappeared as suddenly as a ghost and I was simply standing there in absolute bewilderment at what had occurred.

I sorta hesitated and glanced around, but my curiosity won out. So, without a word, I just followed him, making my way through the party.

We were all too busy with our drinks and the music to notice.

He led me into this small back room away from the noise. The minute he closed the door after us, the entire party seemed to fall silent, and there was this sense of only the two of us.

He was leaning against the bed with his eyes fixed on me as he began to unbuckle his belt.

I felt something tighten in my chest—not quite nerves but this strange tension I was not entirely certain about. I stood there shuffling my feet, attempting to get my head around what was happening, and that’s when the door burst open.

“Yo, Derick—”