So people think that I'm just this dumb guy. No real intelligence. Just another guy who's young, dumb and full of cum. A rock and roll cliche. Maybe they're right; maybe I am. But then, maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just tired of trying to prove them wrong.
I've tried telling my parents that there is more to me than just what they see. I put heart and soul into my lyrics. But no one really listens to them. They just like the music. No one cares about the words. Maybe that's why I went to the Dragon's Tooth tonight. Maybe that's why I paid Leon twenty bucks for a couple of hits of acid.
"Dev, man," Leon started, looking at me with an amused expression. "I thought you swore off all chemical drugs. Thought you was 'stickin' with the herbs', ain't that what you told me?"
"Shut up and give me the shit, you greasy motherfucker." Leon's gray eyes narrowed and I knew that I could be in some deep shit if he took my words seriously. He licked his lips then began to rustle around in his bag. All was cool. "I wanna talk to God tonight."
Leon smirked. "Yeah, you just hard up for some lyrics, ain't ya? Want inspiration, right?" Leon passed the small tabs to me.
Placing one on my tongue, I smiled. "Whatever."
**
Walking through the park is always a fun thing to do when fucked up. Lots of interesting things find me there. Tonight, as I walked along the gravel pathway, I heard a rustling of leaves. I turned to my left and came face to face with a tree.
Placing my hand on the trunk, I felt the roughness of its bark. "Sorry, my friend. I didn't see you there."
In front of me, a mouth developed, followed by eyes and a nose. "It's okay, Devon. I saw you."
I shook my head. Tree people. They always made me uneasy. "How's it going tonight?"
"Bad, fucking bad." I quirked my eyebrow and backed up a step. "Stupid dogs."
"Take a leak on ya again?"
"Fucking people. They should train their dogs better. I have feelings too, you know. Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to have animals just piss on you at random?"
"Yeah, it's probably a real self esteem buster."
"Damn straight." The tree stopped talking as he grew arms. His brown hands ran through his leaves. "Tell me something, Dev. How do you get your hair to look so cool?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. I let Oz style it. If you want I'll see if he can't come and work a little magic with you."
A twig snapped to my left. "Um, Devon?"
I twirled around and found myself staring at someone I barely knew. "Uh, Xander, right? What's going on?"
His brow furrowed. "Why are you talking to a tree?"
"'Cause he's talking to me?" I turned around to face my wooden friend, but the face and arms had disappeared. I turned back towards Xander. "Well, he was talking to me. What do you want, man?"
He shrugged. "Don't know. I just happened to be walking by. You probably shouldn't be out here at night alone."
I rolled my eyes then began to walk away. "Why's that?" Xander began to walk beside of me, asking if I remembered Buffy's party. "Yeah, course I do. I had a bad trip that night. All fucked up. Big dead guys slamming into the windows. What about it?"
"Well, I don't think what you saw that night was because of whatever drugs you're into. There's some whacked out things in Sunnydale."
My feet stopped moving as a thought penetrated my brain. "Hey, wait. You're the dude that tried to steal Oz's girl." Xander sighed and rolled his eyes. "By virtue of my friendship with Oz, I shouldn't talk to you. In fact, I should deck you." Out of the corner of my eye I saw large dogs making their way to the trees. I shrugged. "But I won't. 'Cause I don't like that chick anyway."
"Willow? Why not?" he asked as we began to walk again.
"She's just...weird, man. She's got this evil hold over Oz, yet she plays it so innocent."
After a moment of silence, Xander spoke. "So where's your house?"
"Why?"
"'Cause I have to get you there before the badness that is Sunnydale comes out and kicks you in the ass."
"Hey man, do you like my band?"
"What?"
"My band, The Dingoes."
"Yeah, sure."
"What's your favorite part?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you like about it?"
He shrugged. "I like the songs."
I rolled my eyes as we turned down my street. "What about them."
"The words, I guess. They're like...meaningful. I don't think many people really listen to them, but they're deep. You can tell that the person who wrote the words put soul into them."
I stopped walking and face him. "I write the lyrics."
He nodded. "They're good, man."
"Really?"
Xander nodded again, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Really."
He liked my lyrics. Someone listened to the words. He didn't just think that Oz's guitar was cool or that Kevin's drums kicked ass. He liked my words. He thought they were deep. I smiled, satisfied with the knowledge that at least one other person recognized the validity of my lyrics. At least he knew that they were written from my heart and soul.
Maybe someone out there didn't think I was just a dumb guy. Maybe I wasn't just a cliche after all.
And maybe that's why right now, I'm looking down at Xander's naked form on my bed. His eyes are closed and there is a gentle little smile playing on his lips. Maybe I invited him into my house and into my bed because he liked my words. Maybe I made love with him because he gave me some sense of meaning.
Or maybe I fucked him because I was horny and tripping.
But...maybe not.
End