Ace was doing well by his own standards.
By everyone else’s standards, he was not.
Fenton and Ace had started talking again, and Fenton would come over to his apartment frequently, and vice versa. They had a copy of each other’s keys and would come over whenever they pleased.
One afternoon, before Ace started his evening shift, Fenton came over. He went up the creaky old elevator, a weird feeling down his spine whenever he rode it, waiting for the day it would give its last breath and he would be the unlucky soul trapped inside it. He always hated the hallways in Ace’s apartment complex, the weird smells, and strange sounds, but every time he opened the door, his apartment was always warm and inviting, and his dog, Chewie, would always be there to greet him, or a burglar, anyone really.
Fenton opened the door and was greeted by Chewie, wiggling all over the wooden floor, and he smiled, but this smile turned to utter disgust when he saw the state of the apartment.
Ace was on the couch, upside down, his legs hanging off the back of the green, stained couch, in only shorts, surrounded by many cans of beer, dirty plates on the dining room table, and clothes on the floor.
Fenton noticed that some of the clothes did not appear to be his and he blinked rapidly scratching his arm, and focusing on the dog, anything to not realize that there were leftovers from his takeout and “takeout”.
Ace smiled, still upside down when Fenton entered the apartment.
“It’s been so long,” Ace exclaimed.
“Yes it has been,” Fenton mumbled. “You seem to uh, have been busy since I left on my mission and came back.”
Ace turned right-side-up, and Fenton was even more worried, his bangs now covering his eyes, and he was still glued to his phone, swiping left, right, right then left.
Fenton kept his black tennis shoes on, nervous and disgusted.
His eyes turned a purple hue, and one by one, all the plates made their way to the kitchen, bobbing up and down in the air in a line. The cup filled with dirty spoons was the conductor and the wooden bowl with a foul fluid was the caboose as they were neatly stacked together, filling up the small kitchen sink.
As the dishes made their way to their new home, Fenton tried to be as polite as possible.
“So uh, you okay, man,” Fenton asked.
“Never been better,” Ace mumbled, his eyes never leaving the screen, swiping left and right.
“You should clean more. Sierra could-”
“We broke up.”
Fenton sighed and grumbled, as the dog circled him, barking, and he was annoyed that Ace wasn’t even looking at him when he came to visit, but when he called he said he was excited to see him.
The last of the plates had sauntered into the sink, and immediately, Fenton stuck his palm out, and Ace’s phone flew right into it.
“You have no right to-”
“Diamond, twenty-seven years old,” Fenton announced out loud, walking around the room, as Ace gripped onto him, and Fenton laughed as he continued along.
“She likes street racing, tall men, and she’s a power bottom, ” Fenton snickered. “I don’t think she knows what that means.”
“Check her profile again,” Ace mumbled. “She knows what that means.”
“ Ew. ”
Fenton promptly handed the phone back to Ace, once the shaming was done and he shook his head in disappointment at the filthy man in front of him.
“Have you been using Findr ever since I left? Is that why Sierra broke up with you,” Fenton scoffed.
“No, I left her.”
Fenton rolled his eyes, and the bedroom door swung open with a loud bang. With a few flicks of his wrist, the dirty clothes in the living room and dining room rolled across the wooden floors and into Ace’s bedroom, into one giant pile near his bathroom door.
They walked into his bedroom, another crime scene of what appeared to be a robbery, but nothing was stolen, unfolding in front of Fenton’s very eyes, and again the interrogation began.
“Did you cheat on Sierra,” Fenton asked.
“No! Why would you think that?”
“Your eyes are glued to that app… and you haven’t exactly been the greatest lately,” Fenton replied.
“Hey! I use Findr to find friends,” Ace insisted.
“Your friends left a lace thong under the couch,” Fenton said.
Ace looked at his dog, who was following behind, as Fenton mocked him, the pair of pink undergarments bobbing up and down in mid-air.
“You’re gross,” Ace whispered.
“It’s not like I’m touching it with my hands.”
With another flick of his wrist, the thong joined the pile, and Ace sat on his bed, joined by Chewie, who was comforting him as he stewed in a pile of his own misery. Fenton went to the left side of the room, opening up both of the windows, airing out the smell of sweat and depression, and groaned.
“I think you’re dealing with your problems with sex,” Fenton said.
“What? No Way.”
Ace pointed at himself, as if there were someone else in the room he was addressing, waved his hand flippantly, laughed, and made a pssh noise.
He continued this several times, much to Fenton’s amusement, because he couldn’t lie to Fenton, and he didn’t know what to say because he couldn’t lie, so he continued doing this until he stopped, feeling more ridiculous than if he was caught in a lie.
“This explains you and Ronnie,” Fenton said. “You were sad and fucked him.”
Ace shot up from the bed, scaring Chewie, and he was trying his hardest to defend what little honor he had left, standing in nothing but shorts, unwashed, with greasy hair and beer breath.
“Hey, we made up, ” Ace shouted. “We email and call all the time! ”
“Yeah, or else you’d accidentally set your apartment on fire making spaghetti again.”
He ignored Ace’s accusations of a breach of privacy, and nosiness, as Fenton opened the bathroom door. He was confused and slightly relieved that it was clean and shut it, not asking why, and giving a long sigh of relief.
Ace was not happy, because he had to face some kind of consequence, albeit an emotional one for the very first time.
“I think you should get out more. I’m worried about you,” Fenton said.
“Everyone says that, that doesn’t mean anything,” Ace replied.
“If everyone is saying that, then it means something, ” Fenton exclaimed. “Use your brain!”
“I am not stupid!"
He blinked into the kitchen, to get another beer, and Fenton ran in, not having any of it.
“I’m just concerned, Acheus,” Fenton shouted.
“Dude, you’re too much,” Ace groaned.
He slammed the fridge shut, and glared at him, his eyes flickering black and Fenton tried to change tactics because he knew he might be pushing a little too hard.
“You can’t act like you’re my dad,” Ace said. “He’s not here. I can do whatever I want!”
“Oh, so that's what this is really about,” Fenton replied. “Sorry.”
“No. Shut up.”
Fenton tentatively walked over, and rubbed his back, as Ace told him to go away, but Ace didn’t try to push him away. When Fenton offered to bring him with him along when he went out tomorrow afternoon, Ace didn’t argue, and nodded, but emphasized that this doesn’t mean anything is wrong.
Ace was out of his apartment, as promised.
He had stepped out of his comfort zone, and now he was sure he was being punished for it.
He told the barber he wanted to leave the sides long, but the barber seemed to be hard of hearing, or maybe he didn’t care. All that mattered was that Ace could not hide behind his personal cloak: his hair.
Fenton had a wild grin on his face when they met up at Florentine Beach, and Ace felt bare, naked, his curved and pointy ears out. He stood on the white, sandy beach, in his black speedo, with his new haircut and sunglasses, covered head to toe in extra sunscreen, trying to be confident, and he wanted nothing more than to go back home.
“I like your new haircut,” Fenton chuckled. “ Really accentuates your ears.”
“Fuck you.”
Fenton let out soft laughs as they walked down the beach, and Ace told him that he should head back, that no one missed him anyway, and that they possibly wouldn’t even recognize him!
More silly excuses came out of his mouth because he didn’t want to be outside, under the hot gaze of the twin stars, the leering eyes of people, and the even stranger fish people that would sometimes stroll right out of the ocean, in full business attire.
No one paid Ace any mind, because he was a forgettable face in a sea of faces, and shark faces, but he was so insecure he did not realize this.
In a few minutes, Ace and Fenton had come to the meet-up spot, and Ace had a reunion with his old teammates, and they were all pleasantly surprised. They hugged him, and his cheeks burned hotter than coals, and it was so much overstimulation.
Living alone, he did not get a lot of hugs, so it was a lot for him, and he was so quiet everyone started to think he was angry until he started to speak too, and it was so soft, it was a strange thing to see him so different.
Harmonia glowing bright, always smiling, always next to Casey, made direct eye contact with him, and Ace shivered, a rabbit seen by a fox. She wore a white one-piece cut out around her chest, a peeking window into her bosom, and the first thing she decided to do was make it clear she was still watching him.
“Ace,” Harmonia squealed. “I never knew your ears were so different and-”
“Thanks but I-”
“Can I touch-”
“N-”
She grabbed them, knowing exactly what kind of reaction she would get, her ears exactly the same, her own hair long for the same reason, and she rubbed the ends of his ears, and pretended to be shocked as he emitted a strange noise.
“HaRRRRmoNNNNNNiaaaAAAAAA”
Fenton now knew why he always covered them.
His reaction, the loud moan almost pornographic in nature made his face twitch and mouth open wide.
Everyone thankfully laughed, believing his reaction to be staged, very well done, a very dirty joke. Ace looked into the sky, watching what little dignity and self-confidence he had left fly off into the sky.
Ace sulked on the beach for quite some time after her stunt, on a fuzzy, faded green towel underneath a large palm tree, and prayed for a quick death, one of those random freak aneurysms someone would get while grocery shopping, and they sneezed too hard, or while on the toilet, and they pushed too hard.
He was still alive, still breathing, his insecurities filling his lungs as Levi came over.
He was wearing blue trunks and a sun visor, so he sat next to him, trying to find an escape from the sun. Levi did not tan, he did not darken slightly, he burned, and Levi the Angry Albino would soon become Levi the Lobster if he did not stay under the shade for some time.
Ace smiled, their relationship was much different than before because Levi had helped him get the job at the Atlaan police department.
Fenton watched, from afar, curious, the colors of their auras mixing together, and let out an exasperated sigh.
He already knew that Levi was interested in him, that they had been spending time together lately. He already knew that Ace was looking at him as well, like the way someone is about to buy a house, inspecting it, his fingernails grazing the granite countertops, whispering to himself it’s free real estate.
Fenton told Ace the house was not up for sale, it was already bought, and he should look elsewhere.
No matter how many times Fenton, a mind reader, told Ace not to do something like any rational person Ace agreed, smiled, walked off, and did the exact opposite.
Fenton was so preoccupied, trying to find a way to save his friend, assuming Levi was another witch in human skin, that he was whacked in the face with a frisbee, grunted, and then changed his mind.
Some people learn best the hard way.
