Page 93 of Fragments

“You’ll be fine…”

“It’s a miracle I’m even getting meds in here, but they’re bullshit. It’s not even all the stuff I need.”

“I’ll get you better meds,” I tell him firmly. “Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you.”

He scoffs. “Ren, I’m not going to have you fucking guards to get me HIV medicine, okay?? You need to be focusing on Luthor…”

“It’s not the same,” I mumble.

“It is, though,” he snaps at me. “You know if you want him, you’re gonna have to wantonlyhim, right?”

He stares at me for a moment, and the weight of what he’s saying sits heavy on my chest.

Would Lex want me to be… exclusive?

I don’t know why that thought never even occurred to me.

I’m desperate to be more with him. Not even just for sex, but like… the boyfriendy stuff I’ve never done before. I would love to try it with him. But I guess that also includes me not hooking up with other people… and that definitely isn’t something I’ve ever attempted.

I’m a free bird. Even when I’m trapped in a cage with other birds, I’m flitting around, getting my freak on.Could I actually stop doing that? Is it even possible?

If anyone could make it happen, it would be Lex. He’s more than worth it, I know that.

But still… I’m scared. I’m nervous that I’ll fuck it all up and hurt him.

He brought me back to life. I feel like a real human just fromknowinghim.

Pushing aside these hectic thoughts for now, I scoot up to Parker, wrapping my arms around his waist and just hugging him for a bit, until he eventually calms down and falls asleep.

Then I slink out of his bed and back down to my bunk. When Peters shows up, there’s a brief flicker of a moment when I consider telling him to leave.

But in the end, I have to do it… What I do best.

I’ll tell myself I’m doing this for Lex, and for Parker. That I’m getting them things, stuff we all need, and so it’s okay. But I know it’s not true.

I’m doing it for me.

Outside or inside, I’m still the same person.

The man with too much fire for his own good.

Weeks later…

I’ve always been a bit of an over-thinker. But in here, I’m straight-upneurotic.

Maybe it’s because we have time in abundance. There’s so much extra time, I’m about to put it out on the street with a sign that saysFree! Please take.

Lately, my excessive self-reflection has been dedicated to a certain prisoner friend of mine, who’s done nothing but play hopscotch on my limbic system for the last eighteen months.

I’m referring, of course, to Warren Xavier—or should I say, Miley Cyrus… Since he came in like a wrecking ball.

Let’s face it, I stood very little chance of resisting Ren’s friendship. Even if I’d wanted to, he probably wouldn’t have let me. And it probably seems foolish to associate with him, being that he lies as easily as breathing and manipulates without realizing he’s doing it. But from the start, I just couldn’t help being sort of dazzled by him.

He’s not like any of my other friends.For starters, he’s actually cool.

Ren is charming as hell, smart and generous. Easy to talk to, with the jaded witticisms you’d expect from a New Yorker who’s been around the block a few times.

He’s also next-level obsessive, and totally fucking crazy.