Chapter 38: Prosted Flakes

Steam billows around me as I step out of the shower, droplets of water clinging to my skin. I wrap a towel around my waist, my brown hair falling damp over my forehead. My heart races slightly as I pad across the cold marble floor towards Erica’s room.

I pause at the threshold, taking in the sight of her sprawled on the bed, cigarette dangling from her lips. Her piercing blue eyes lock onto mine.

“Hey there, pretty boy,” Erica spoke, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Come here.”

I obey, crossing the room to perch on the edge of the bed. Up close, I can see a really faint bruise blooming on her cheekbone, a remnant of yesterday’s fight.

“I was thinking, we should have Nikki and Tara over tonight.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “After your fight with Tara yesterday? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Erica waves her hand dismissively. “We already made up in the police cell. No hard feelings.”

“True.” I nod slowly, trying to process this information. The casual way she talks about getting into fistfights and ending up in police custody still throws me off balance sometimes.

“If you’re sure,” I say hesitantly. “I just don’t want any more trouble.”

Erica’s expression softens as she reaches out to cup my cheek. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ve got everything under control.”

I nod, trying to match Erica’s enthusiasm. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. Are we going to drink?” The question slips out before I can stop it, my anxiety about potential chaos bubbling to the surface.

Erica grins, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Of course we are, babe. Don’t worry. The mansion’s safe enough. No one’s gonna mess with us here.”

“Word.”

*****

We’re in the opulent living room of the Knight Mansion. The dim glow of the chandeliers cast dancing shadows across the velvet drapes as Erica downs her eighth shot of the night. The sharp scent of alcohol mingles with the lingering aroma of roses.

“Come on, Jason!” Erica challenges, her cheeks already flushed. “Why are you only taking one for every two of mine? Don’t be such a lightweight!”

I glance nervously at my half-empty glass, acutely aware of my lower tolerance. Before I can respond, Nikki shoots me a sympathetic look from across the room.

“Uh, Erica,” Nikki interjects cautiously, “maybe ease up a bit? You know Jason’s a boy. He can’t keep up with you.”

I feel a mix of gratitude and embarrassment at Nikki’s intervention. I watch Erica’s playful grin. I’m reminded that she loves me for who I am, not for how much I can drink.

I reach out and gently pet Erica’s head, my fingers threading through her soft blonde hair. “Hey, easy there, my lioness,” I tease affectionately. “If you pass out too fast, we won’t be awake to fuck later.” I’m also feeling a bit drunk.

The words hung in the air for a moment before Erica, Tara, and Nikki burst into laughter. I feel my cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through me. In this world, it’s still somewhat taboo for a man to be so forward, but with Erica, I’ve learned she loves it when I show how badly I want her.

Erica’s piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, a mischievous glint dancing in them. “Oh, is that a promise, Jason?” she purrs, her voice low and sultry. Before I can respond, she leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek, her lips warm against my skin.

I’m acutely aware of Tara and Nikki’s presence, but at this moment, it feels like Erica and I are the only ones in the room. As she settles her head on my lap, I can’t help but marvel at how vulnerable she allows herself to be with me despite her tough exterior.

Suddenly, a soft snore escapes Erica’s lips. I look down to see her eyes closed, her breathing steady. I can’t help but chuckle, stroking her hair gently.

“Well,” I say to Tara and Nikki. “I guess my balls will remain full.” I laugh, but to my surprise, no one else does.

Tara’s eyes soften as she looks at me, her usual mischievous glint replaced by something more vulnerable. “Hey, Jason,” she says quietly, her voice barely audible over Erica’s soft snoring. “I... I wanted to apologize for yesterday. For calling you a slut and all that.” She fidgets with the hem of her leather jacket, studded with various pins and patches. “I was just... annoyed, I guess. Seeing what you and Erica have, it’s special. I don’t have anything like that with Louis.”

I blink, surprised by her sudden openness. The alcohol must be affecting her, too. Nikki looks between us, confusion evident on her face. “Wait, what? How did I miss so much? I knew you got arrested for fighting, but was it because of that?”

I chuckle, the sound slightly slurred from the drinks. “Oh man, it’s a long story. But get this, I got to talk to Louis, a bunch on the way to the police station. He was the one who drove me there to bail out Erica and Tara.”

Tara’s eyes look horrified as she remembers yesterday. “Knowing that Louis... saw me like that? In handcuffs and everything?” She groans, burying her face in her hands. “God, that’s so embarrassing.”

I shrug, my inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. “Don’t worry about it. If anything, I think he was impressed. He told me you were his best fuck, actually.”

The room falls silent for a moment, save for Erica’s soft snoring. Tara’s mouth drops open, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. Nikki lets out a low whistle, eyebrows raised.

“He... he said that?” Tara asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and pride.

“Yeah, but...” I pause, feeling the alcohol loosen my tongue. “He also mentioned he’s dead set on having at least three girlfriends.”

Nikki scoffs, her athletic frame tensing as she leans back in her chair. “The nerve of some men,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Thinking they can just play the field like that.”

Tara’s face twists into a mix of annoyance and disappointment. She runs a hand through her choppy black hair, the electric blue streaks catching the dim light. “I was really hoping to get him to turn. Ugh, why are boys so complicated?” She turns to me, her dark eyes pleading. “Jason, you gotta help me out here. How do I lock Louis down?”

I shrug, feeling the room sway slightly as I try to focus on Tara’s face. “Sorry, I’m not allowed to give love advice anymore.” I slur, a lopsided grin on my face. “Erica banned me after I talked to Rupert the other day.”

Nikki’s eyebrows shoot up, her sharp blue eyes widening in realization. “Wait, is that why Rupert joined the lunch brigade?”

I nod, my fingers still absently stroking Erica’s hair as she snores softly in my lap. “Yeah, he likes Skye.”

The room falls into a contemplative silence, broken only by the soft ticking of the ornate grandfather clock in the corner and Erica’s gentle snoring.

Tara sighs, her shoulders slumping as she sinks deeper into the plush armchair. “So what am I supposed to do about Louis?” she asks, her voice small and vulnerable, a stark contrast to her usual bravado.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of Tara’s question settle on my shoulders. The room seems to sway slightly, the ornate patterns on the wallpaper dancing in my peripheral vision. I look down at Erica, her blonde hair splayed across my lap, her face peaceful in sleep. My heart swells with affection, remembering her fierce protectiveness, her possessive love that both thrills and comforts me.

“Tara,” I begin, my voice slightly slurred but earnest, “I think Louis... he’s a lot like me in some ways. When we want something, really want it, our conviction is unwavering.” I pause, searching for the right words. “I saw that look in his eyes when he talked about having multiple girlfriends. It’s the same look I get when I think about Erica.”

“I like Louis, I really do,” I continue, meeting Tara’s desperate gaze. “And I like you too. You’re both good people. But...” I trail off, the alcohol making my thoughts fuzzy. I struggle to focus, the room seeming to tilt slightly. “I’d be bummed if I told you that you could lock him down when he definitely doesn’t want that. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

Tara’s face falls, her dark eyes glistening in the dim light. The pins on her leather jacket catch the light as she shifts, creating a constellation of tiny reflections on the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, Tara,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I had better advice. But sometimes... sometimes people just want different things.”

Tara’s eyes flash with annoyance, her jaw clenching as she processes my words. She runs a hand through her choppy black hair, the electric blue streaks catching the dim light of the chandelier. The room seems to pulse with tension, the velvet drapes swaying slightly in an unseen draft.

“You don’t get it, Jason,” Tara slurs, her words tumbling out in a frustrated rush. “Good dick is so hard to come by these days. Do you know how few decent men there are out there? And even fewer with good dick game.” She gestures wildly, nearly knocking over a handle of rum on the nearby side table. The liquid inside sloshes ominously, creating mesmerizing patterns on the polished wood surface.

Nikki nods in apparent agreement, but there’s something off about her expression. Her sharp blue eyes dart around the room, never quite settling on anyone’s face.

“I mean,” Tara continues, her voice rising in pitch, “One time I was fucking a prosty, And he said the most fucked up thing….”

“Wait, what?” I interrupt, my alcohol-addled brain struggling to keep up. “What the fuck is a prosty?”

Tara blinks at me, momentarily thrown off her rant. “A prostitute, dumbass.” she clarifies, rolling her eyes dramatically.

I can’t help it. I burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the mansion. The chandelier above seems to twinkle in amusement, casting dancing lights across the room. Erica’s head stirs slightly in my lap but doesn’t wake, her soft snores mixing with my chuckles.

“Prostys?” I chuckle, wiping tears from my eyes. “That makes it sound so casual, like when a girl calls a beverage a ‘bevy.’”

Nikki snorts, her sharp blue eyes crinkling with amusement. “Only boys say ‘bevies,’ Jason,” she quips, her voice tinged with playful derision.

“Anyways,” Tara continues, her words slightly slurred, “I was fucking a prosty one day, right? And mid-fuck, he looked at me and said, ‘Jesus fucking Christ, your cunt feels like shit.’”

The room erupts into laughter, the sound bouncing off the ornate walls and high ceilings of the Knight Mansion. Through my own laughter, I manage to gasp out, “That’s so rude!” But Tara just cackles harder, her face flushed with alcohol and amusement.

“I know, right?” she wheezes, wiping tears from her eyes. “Can you believe the nerve of some men?”

Nikki, still chuckling, leans forward in her chair. “So what did you do?” she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Tara’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I wasn’t about to let that slide,” she says, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “So while he was in the bathroom, I snatched his wallet.”

Nikki’s jaw drops, her sharp blue eyes widening in disbelief. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did,” Tara cackles, her choppy black hair with electric blue streaks bouncing as she nods emphatically. “And get this, the idiot had thirteen hundred bucks in cash stuffed in there!”

The room erupts into laughter once again, the sound echoing off the ornate walls and crystal chandeliers. I find myself caught up in the hilarity, my sides aching as I try to control myself without disturbing Erica, who’s still peacefully snoring in my lap.

“So technically,” Tara continues, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, “I made thirteen hundred dollars that day. Not bad for a bitch with a shitty cunt, right?”

After that Tara started pouring us more shots. The drunker I got, the more I kept staring at Erica’s cleavage, which didn’t seem to bother anyone.

The clinking of glasses echoes through the opulent living room as Tara pours shots with reckless abandon. Erica stirs in my lap, her blonde hair tousled and makeup smudged. Her piercing blue eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they lock onto the shot glass in my hand.

“Hey there, pretty boy,” she purrs, her voice husky from sleep and alcohol. “How drunk do I have to get you before you’re willing to fuck your mommy?”

The room seems to spin around me, the ornate wallpaper blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through my veins.

“I’ll fuck you whenever and wherever you want,” I blurt out, my inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. “You don’t even have to get me drunk.”

Erica scoffs, rolling her eyes as she sits up. Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, catching the dim light of the chandelier. “Don’t sound so easy when we’re with other people,” she chides, but there’s a hint of amusement in her tone.

Nikki pipes up from across the room, her athletic frame lounging casually in an antique armchair. “Oh, come on, Erica,” she says with a laugh. “No one thinks Jason’s easy for anyone but you. We all know he’s your little puppy dog.”

“Et tu, Nikki?” I say with feigned betrayal, clutching my chest dramatically. The ornate patterns on the wallpaper seem to swirl and dance in my peripheral vision as I sway slightly.

Nikki laughs, her sharp blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, come on, Jason. I’m just happy one of my best friends is dating my newest friend. It’s cute, really.”

I smile, warmth spreading through my chest at her words. The alcohol has made everything soft and hazy, like we’re all wrapped in a cozy blanket of camaraderie.

But Erica’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp as a knife. “Don’t get too comfy with my boyfriend, Nikki,” she warns, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. “Or I’ll have to hurt you. I don’t care if you’re a lesbian, either.”

The room seems to freeze for a moment, the tension palpable. Then I gasp, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. “So you are a lesbian!” I exclaim.

Tara scoffs, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. She takes another swig from the bottle, the amber liquid sloshing inside. “What, it wasn’t obvious?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Nikki sighs, her athletic frame relaxing back into the plush armchair. “I wasn’t hiding it, Jason,” she says gently. “You just never asked.”

“Wait a minute,” I slur, my eyes widening with sudden realization. “If you’re a lesbian, why haven’t you gotten together with Justine yet?”

Nikki’s sharp intake of breath is audible in the sudden silence that falls over the room. Her athletic frame tenses. The faint tattoos peeking out from under her sleeves seem to ripple with her discomfort.

“I... what?” she stammers, her usual confident demeanor crumbling. “Why would you think...?”

Without thinking, I reach for rogue, but full, shot glass, the cool surface slick against my fingers. I throw it back, wincing as the liquor burns its way down my throat.

“You and Justine are my OTP,” I declare, my words running together slightly. “You two would be perfect together! …. In my opinion.”

Erica turns to me, her piercing blue eyes narrowing as she takes in my flushed face and excited grin. She lets out a long-suffering sigh, the sound mixing with the soft crackle of the fireplace.

“Sorry, Nikki,” Erica says, running a hand through her tousled blonde hair. “He’s not joking. He talks about it all the time.”

Nikki’s face flushes a deep crimson, visible even in the dim light of the chandelier. “I... it’s not like that,” Nikki stammers, her usual confidence evaporating like morning dew. “I’m just... focusing on school right now, you know? Got that football scholarship to think about.”

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment, then Tara’s laughter cuts through the tension, sharp and mocking.

“Oh, please,” Tara scoffs drunkenly. “You’re just a coward, unlike Erica and me. We found our men all on our own.”

Erica snorts. “Please, bitch,” she drawls, her words slightly slurred. “Psycho Jason here asked me out. And Louis? Didn’t he say he was the one who sought you out for a situationship.”

Erica turns to Nikki, her piercing blue eyes softening slightly. The leather of the couch creaks as she leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Listen, Nikki,” she says, her words carrying a weight of sincerity that cuts through the alcoholic haze. “Just do what you want. Don’t let anyone else tell you what to do or how to feel.”

‘Since when did Erica give good advice? What the fuck?’ I feel confusion consume me.

Nikki nods slowly, her sharp blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. She takes a deep breath, her athletic frame seeming to unfurl from its tense position. “Thanks, Erica,” she murmurs, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

I lean forward and proclaim with drunken confidence, “Hey, Nikki if you want love advice, I’m your guy!” My words slur together, but I puff out my chest proudly, feeling like a relationship guru at that moment in stark contrast to what I told Tara earlier.

Erica’s head whips around so fast I’m surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. Her piercing blue eyes, usually so alluring, now hold a mixture of horror and exasperation.

“Jason,” she says slowly, each word dripping with warning, “We talked about this. You are banned from giving anyone love advice.” Her voice carries the weight of the world.

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t even that bad.” I interject.

“You told the guy to cut himself and to blame her. I’m not letting Nikki hear that Schizo shit.” She barks back.

“When you talk like that,” I pout at Erica. “All I hear is this world isn’t brave enough for my ideas.”

Erica’s eyes flash dangerously, a predatory smirk playing across her lips. In one fluid motion, she stands up from the couch, her lithe form towering over me. The chandelier light catches in her tousled blonde hair, creating a halo effect that only enhances her commanding presence.

“Oh, you think this world isn’t brave enough for you, pretty boy?” she purrs, her voice low and sultry. “I think it’s time I showed you just how brave I can be.”

Before I can react, Erica scoops me up into her arms, cradling me against her chest like a princess. ‘Prince, I guess, in this world.’ The sudden movement sends the room spinning, the ornate wallpaper blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. I can feel the strength in her arms, a reminder of her dominance that sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.

“Good night, girls,” Erica calls over her shoulder, her voice dripping with anticipation. “I’ve got a boy that needs to be punished properly.”