There once was a field

Picture it now

Unaltered and beautiful

Now imagine it stretching forever

Farther than the eye can see

Never eclipsing, never-ending

Perfect, right? The answers seem so easy

Picture it now

Running until you can't anymore

A glass tube curving on itself

Can't get out, no release

Never-ending, forever downward

Perfect, right?

Picture it now

The sun finally sets

Finally finding peace

But all it is is a bog

And a man who drags you down

Forever downward, silent eternity

Perfect, right? 

The answers seem so easy

--The song True Lies, lyrics by Orion Bauwens

Groggily I flutter my eyes open. I don't want to be awake yet. I'm not ready to be awake yet.

Orion stayed way late. I didn't want to be rude, but I would've been content had he left at nine. Instead we stayed up chatting until one in the morning. I'm exhausted.

I can't get back to sleep though. Someone has the radio on while they shower. For a few minutes I toss and turn, even putting my pillow over my head. But the music won't stop, so I get out of bed.

It's almost ten thirty. I yawn and stretch as I hear the shower shut off. The radio is still going. I really have to pee.

As I go to the bathroom that's right around the corner from my room, I realize it's not the radio. Someone is singing. They're singing Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. They're belting it, actually. And as they reach the highest note in the song, whoever is singing nails it like it's nothing. And it cracks me up too because they're singing every part, not just what Freddie Mercury sings.

I'm about to knock on the bathroom door when it flies open. It's Orion. And I don't know who's more startled, me, or him. He yelps, stumbling into the door. I jump back.

He's wearing his clothes from yesterday, but his hair is wet and he's holding a wet towel. Before he can say or do anything, I speak.

"I thought you said you couldn't sing?!"

He blinks at me. "Uh, good morning to you, too." 

He rushes past me. I immediately spin on my heel and follow.

"Orion! That was amazing!"

He doesn't say anything, trying to find his way wordlessly downstairs, making several wrong turns.

"Seriously," I rant, following him, "that was really good! I thought it was the radio at first."

"Where are the God damn stairs..."

"You're like a professional singer dude!"

We're at the stairs and he races downstairs.

"Orion!"

He turns on the last stair and I nearly topple into him. He glares up at me. "What?"

I'm not even phased by the look. "Did you hear anything I said?"

He narrows his eyes. "I only sing in the shower. Thank you." He rushes away again.

"Orion!"

He ignores me.

"What else can you sing?"

"Jake..."

"You're clearly embarrassed, so c'mon."

Before he can argue with me, I grab his hand and yank him into the garage.

"Dude! I'm in my socks."

"There," I say, shutting the door that leads to the house. "Now my mom and sister can't hear you."

Orion covers his face and groans. I grab his hands away.

"Come on."

A glare.

"Please?"

Glare intensifies.

I pout. "For me?"

He laughs at that. Then he rolls his eyes, turning bright red. "Fine..."

I grin.

"But!" he points at me. "Go to the other side of the garage and turn around."

I crinkle my face. "What?'"

"You heard me," Orion says, giving me a shove.

I walk away slowly, looking over my shoulder. "Uh...why?"

"I don't like singing in front of people. Not solo, anyway."

"Oh. Right."

I glance over my shoulder once I hit the wall. Orion is at the clear other side, facing the opposite wall. He's psyching himself up, jumping up and down, rolling his head, shaking out his hands. I smirk, turning back around.

"Uh," he says, and we look over our shoulders at each other, "w-what should I sing?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with."

"R-right."

I turn back around. After a few loud, deep breaths, Orion starts.

I know the song immediately because of how it starts. It's Madness by Muse. I'm admittedly a little surprised that's what he's decided to sing, given how synth heavy it is and the vocal range.

It was stupid of me to question the selection. He nails every note, every rhythm, every insane vocal escalation. I don't care that he told me not to look at him--I turn around, shocked, watching his back as he sings. I nearly laugh, but then I remember I'm supposed to be facing the wall.

Orion is swaying as he sings, keeping tempo with his body. He's doing a weird little dance with the towel as though it were a scarf. As he comes to the high-falsetto part near the end, he throws his arms to each side, undulating them slowly. When he's done he clenches his fist in front of his body, posing.

I fling myself around, staring at the wall. After a moment Orion clears his throat. I turn around, and he's deep red. He looks at the ground, scratching the back of his head. I rush over, grabbing him by his upper arms.

"That was amazing!" I shake him.

Orion covers his eyes and peaks at me through his fingers. "Please don't tell anyone?"

I'm surprised. "What? But--but why? You're amazing, you shouldn't be ashamed of that!"

"It's not that..." he says, looking down sadly.

My face goes slack. "Then what?"

"What'm I gonna do with my voice?"

"Uh, anything?"

He glares at me from beneath his fringe.

"Dude. You can imitate fucking Freddie Mercury, one of the most iconic voices in existence!"

"Yeah!" he says, head snapping up. He's suddenly angry, and I'm caught off guard. "And do you know how many fucking good singers there are in this world? It's a fucking pipe dream to think it'll ever go anywhere."

"You won't know until you try, right?"

"And set myself up for failure and disappointment? Gee thanks, I'll pass."

"That's a crap attitude."

"Right," he snarls sardonically, shooting me an ugly glare, "just like you and Ben's stupid little garage band is gonna go somewhere, right? What, you gonna go on America's Got Talent or some shit?"

That hurt. I don't know why he's lashing out. All I know is that he probably doesn't mean it. I get the feeling this dick could use some friends and then maybe he won't be such a, well, dick. So I'm going to try to be his friend. I'm going to try until he says something too out of line. Until then, I'll call him my friend.

"Maybe," I tell him with a shrug, refusing to get riled.

He laughs at me, crossing his arms.

I poke him squarely in the chest, and he stumbles back, looking surprised. Just because I want him to be my friend doesn't mean I'm going to be his carpet.

"I know I'm talented with a guitar," I tell him, "and I know Ben's got chops. So yeah, while we're probably not going to get anywhere, I'd be stupid if I wasted my talent."

I take a step forward and he scurries back, dark eyes widening.

"I'd hate myself forever if I didn't do anything with my talent. So yeah, we might fall on our faces, but at least I'll be able to look at myself in the mirror and say I wasn't a little chicken-shit punk who let his talent go to waste."

Orion's jaw drops. For a bit we just stand in my garage, Orion's mouth slack, me glaring. Then, unexpectedly, Orion bursts out laughing.

He points at me. "I like you."

"You're weird."

"I know," he says, still laughing. Then he grows serious. "I'm sorry."

I smile and shrug. "Whatever. C'mon, breakfast?"

We go back into the house. It takes a little while to get to the kitchen. My house is pretty big.

"So, uh, not that I care, but why didn't you go home?"

"It was late," he shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets, "your mom didn't want me walking home by myself."

"Are you gonna get in trouble with your parents?"

"They'd have to actually give a damn about me in order to exert enough energy to punish me." Before I can reply we walk into the kitchen where my mom is sitting, reading a newspaper. "Good morning Mrs. Larson!"

"Orion!" she greets happily. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock."

I just stare at Orion from his flippant, harsh comment regarding his parents. Was it really like that? Not to mention I was surprised at his word choice; what Freshman talked like that?

Orion glances at me but goes right back to looking at my mom. "What should I do with my towel?"

"Oh, just leave it over the chair. I'll take care of it later."

Orion shrugs and puts it on one of the kitchen chairs.

"You stayed?" Charlotte asked, looking surprised.

Orion shrugs. "We stayed up late talking so I just crashed here. Your mom didn't mind."

"Is that alright with you?" my mom asks Charlotte jokingly.

"Of course," she says, giving a small smile to Orion.

"Do you need a ride home later?" my mom asks. "I don't have work today. I don't mind."

"Thank you Mrs. Larson, but I can walk."

"Are you sure? Where do you live?"

"53rd and Downs."

My mom's eyes go wide. "That's clear across town!"

"Yeah."

My mom looks worried. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

She blinks. I whip my head at him.

"I was held back."

My mom crosses her arms.

"I'll be fine. Promise."

My mom gives us both a look and then slides off her chair, walking away. "If you two are hungry, help yourself to anything..."

When she reaches the door she spins around, pointing at Orion. "If you change your mind, let me know."

Charlotte takes a hint after I glare, so she picks up her bowl and scurries out of the room. As soon as she's gone I look at Orion.

"Sixteen?"

He shrugs. "So I was a little off."

I cross my arms.

"By three years."

I sigh. "Please don't lie to my mom..."

"I don't think she bought it, anyway."

"Still."

"So what is there to eat here? After breakfast I'll leave, I swear."

"Why don't you want a ride?"

"Do I have to start poking around myself?"

I narrow my eyes. "Orion."

"I hope you guys don't have any devious secrets in your kitchen...Let's see what's behind door number one!" he says, dramatically opening a cabinet. His shoulders slump. "Oh. Pots and pans. Whiff."

"Ori!"

Orion slams the cabinet shut and glares daggers, hissing quietly at me. "I live in a trailer, okay?"

I blink. He strides across the room in three huge steps, sticking his finger under my nose. "And if you tell anyone, I swear to God I'll--I'll--I'll--"

I cross my arms over my chest. "You'll what?"

Orion kinda collapses in on himself, his shoulders slumping with his head bowing. "I d'no. It'll be something really bad, though."

I laugh, slinging my arm around his shoulders. He looks at me like I grew a second and third head.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, promise."

He looks stunned.

"Now," I say, giving his shoulders a gentle shake before releasing him, "what do you like to eat? Cereal is in this cabinet, bread is in this drawer, toaster in in that cabinet--"

"Wait--you guys keep bread in a drawer? Jesus, and here I thought my family was weird..."

I can't help but laugh.