Page 80 of For the Fans

Turning away in a huff, I storm out of the room, heading for the door.

“Kyran, goddamnit, just wait a second!” he calls after me, and I force myself to stop.

Spinning to face him, we stare at each other, both sets of eyes rounded with varying emotions. I can tell he wants to say something and I’m pleading with all the cosmic forces I don’t believe in to just keep him quiet.

Eventually, his shoulders slump and he asks, “You good?”

Swallowing down the taste of him on my tongue, my scowl slips back into place. “Fucking wonderful.”

I’m out of his dorm in a flash, slamming the door a little too hard behind me.

I’m in control.

I’ve got this.

Everything is fuckingfine.

BigD1ck1978: I’ll bend you over and show you the galaxy

TieMeUp69: @Backwardz_Cap I’ve never wanted a man to ride my face upside down as much as I want you to

Sub_way1010: PLEASE CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF ME, I’LL SAY THANK YOU! xo

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if he’d never died…

Growing up without a father isn’t easy. But like most things, we adapt to it, and we move on. Human beings are built to persevere. We have the fascinating ability to come to terms with the drastic changes of life. We modify, alter, and adjust… Welive, because that’s what we’re made to do. To keep going on until the wayward forces of the universe stop us in one way or another.

Ultimately, that’s what life is. Living until you die.

That said, I often stop and think about how different things could have ended up if Arlo Vega hadn’t fallen off that scaffolding. If his life hadn’t come to an early end… Would I even be here right now?

I highly doubt it. I know there are forces at work, a path we’re guided down, like one of thisChoose Your Own Adventurebooks. Each step brings us in a new direction, to a divergent conclusion. And I’m sure that if I went back and somehow stopped my father from going to work that day, things would have turned out very differently.

We probably would have stayed in New York… Or maybe even moved to Madrid. My father has family there, and in Barcelona. I remember him talking about taking us when I was little…

But we never got the chance, and instead, because of this path, we ended up here. In Boston…

Where I’m currently in a good old-fashioned pickle of sexual turmoil with my own damn stepbrother.

As has become the standard, I haven’t spoken to Kyran in many days, since the epic incident of sixty-nine that completely obliterated any and all questions as to whether or not I enjoy hooking up with dudes. I think at this point, it’s safe to say that I’m fully bisexual… Because in all honesty, I did not hate having a dick in my mouth.

Didn’t hate it one bit.

But of course, me discovering this new piece of the puzzle that is my sexuality isn’t the cumbersome part. The snag lies in the fact that I had this revelation while going to town on the severely impressive dick of my asshole stepbrother, who, if I had to wager, is probablynotjoyously celebrating this newfound clarity the way I am.

Kyran is a complicated fellow. As much as I don’t want to give him credit for being anything more than a preppy, privileged do-gooder with one of the best arms in the NCAA, Kyran Harbor is definitely deeper than what you see on his stoic, collegiate surface. He’s got stuff going on, that much is clear.

And because of his shrouded composition, I can’t tell if he’s really just forcing himself through the things we’ve done together out of sheer desperation, or if a part of him is itching to figure out a new, hidden side of himself, the way I am.

I wasn’t born yesterday. Kyran obviously enjoyed himself during both of ourcollaborations. Those two instances are theonlytimes I can think of when I’ve gotten even the slightest glimpse into who he really is… When he’s dropped his guard for just long enough to unwind that tightly coiled control and give in to impulse.

At the same time, though, a hand is just a hand… And a mouth is just a mouth. So maybe hewasreally pretending a girl was doing those things in order to get through it. For thefans. And more importantly, for their money.

My subscribers doubled after posting that video, and now the fans are utterly freaking rabid. They’re foaming at the mouth for more of Kyran and me, which is always a difficult subject to broach, since he has a tendency to disappear for days after we film, I’m guessing to rewire his robot brain and convince himself it never happened.

In Kyran’s defense, he also had an away game in Miami the day after Thanksgiving, so that could be part of the reason why I haven’t heard from him in two weeks. The Eagles kicked the crap out of the Hurricanes on Black Friday, and for all my claims that I only do the mascot thing as a joke—another way to annoy the crap out of my stepbrother—I’ll admit, I watched the game. And I may or may not have jumped up and cheered a few times when said stepbrother threw some diesel touchdown passes. But you won’t catch mebroadcastingthat.

Thanksgiving in the house was quietly tense, but it was still good to see Mom and spend some time with her. Although, the awkwardness piqued when she asked me what I’ve been doingfor money, and I had to make up a part-time job on campus on the fly.