FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 9

"Hey, Jayden, it's been one month since my last confession and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know it's the way I've always acted, I just never knew that it hurt you so much. I couldn't be sure if you were busy, or if you were ignoring me, so I thought it'd be the best idea for me to just leave this here. Call me back if you ever want to talk about it."

Sitting in a small, horribly designed room at an even smaller and even more horribly designed table, Jayden deleted the message, going back to eating his snack lazily. Tubes of light behind thin layers of Plexiglas lined the ceiling, covering the empty break room in a dizzying white. Two soda machines joined the clamor, providing a droning hum to the empty atmosphere.

He was the only one sitting in here, so he sighed and rest his muzzle in his hand, the cookies from the vending machine tasting stale. It was the end of November and Jayden had gotten a job at a seemingly upscale department store, folding clothes during the holiday season. He'd never had an actual paying job before and it was an interesting experience, to say the least.

There was no constant schedule to speak of; sometimes he had to come in at five in the morning and work until two in the afternoon, while other times he'd go in for six and leave at midnight. When he applied, he told them that he wanted as many hours as he could possibly get, so at the moment he was topping out at forty.

It was boring, and tedious, and tiring, and it made him feel completely numb, which was just what he was looking for. Folding shirt after shirt, or hanging cashmere vest after cashmere vest gave him something to focus on instead of the continual wrong turns his life seemed to be taking. Every night he went home exhausted, and sore, and unable to care as he walked into his room to find Francis sleeping on his bed, completely naked and snoring like he'd just pulled a boulder up a mountain.

He always smelled like perfume or cologne and he always itched in his stupid dress clothes. Black pants, black undershirt, black button down shirt that he had to tuck under his black belt. He had to make sure his fur was tidy, his teeth were brushed and his nails were clean, all so he could work his rump off, working himself a lot harder than was even necessary or than they noticed. Jayden didn't even care about the minimum wage pay check, or even the job.

And, minimum wage was all he really had to show for the stupid amounts of himself that he pushed behind his work; most of the money he never even got to keep. If the money didn't go to Francis, it went to his mother, who had started charging for the food he ate and the room he lived in. It was mostly because of an argument they'd gotten into where she said that she didn't like Francis mooching off of them, so Jayden just gave in and started transferring his money to her account.

His heart was devoid of any laughter, or cheer, or merriment and he didn't know if it was the job, or his life, or Francis that was bleeding him dry. Ever since he'd had that conversation with Francis in the park, he'd started to pull further and further away from Jayden. The bear no longer put his arm around him when they slept, he no longer said he loved him, or ruffled his headfur affectionately. Jayden had ruined their sanctity of ignorance and now he was withstanding the effect.

Jayden still tried to find warmth within some of the pieces as he curled up beside him, his head resting on his chest, but Francis really didn't care anymore. And, Jayden didn't know why he did. He never felt anything anymore, it just felt like it'd become so ingrained into him, having someone to help him ignore the world. Is this what had happened with him and Tammy?

During the days, they were fine. They smiled, and laughed, and talked, but it was always hollow, or meaningless. It was Jayden trying to pretend nothing had changed. It was Jayden trying to pretend that he hadn't made the dire mistake of caring. As soon as they were apart, Jayden couldn't pretend anymore. He just didn't want to give up on him because he was afraid that once he did, he'd have lost his chance.

It always felt like the future was right around the corner. It was, he knew that. The future was always coming so fast that he couldn't decipher it until it punched him in the face with full force. He just hoped that the better days were right around the corner, one where Francis loved him again, or at least, pretended to. Jayden would be perfectly fine with a lie right now, because he really needed someone to take the edge off.

Throwing away the full bag of cookies and bottle of soda, Jayden pushed himself from the chair, straightening out his shirt as he walked through the door. It locked behind him with a click and he turned down a long hall, passing by one of the stock rooms. He passed through the baby clothing and headed towards the escalator.

He was scheduled from five to eleven, and tonight he was working in the worst possible section of any clothing based store; the 'tweens'. Somewhere between child and teenager, they were as messy as both combined. He'd only been working here for about a month, and he'd already come to associate the word with intense and prolonged anguish.

They had never officially trained him in anything, beside the stupid orientation that told him nothing about what to do. When he started, he thought the job would be a breeze, because all his job description was to clean up the mess that the shoppers made. It was a simple concept, but it was one that was never fulfilled.

His first day, he'd been told he was folding all wrong, but they didn't seem to have any inclination to tell him how to do it properly. He worked through his first break dismantling things that had been folded correctly so he could learn; it was pathetic.

Somewhere between the break room and the tweens section, he felt his heart fall all the way through his chest and hit the floor. He'd been moved from young men's to here, so this was the first time he'd seen this side of the store, and it also looked like he was alone.

Displays were tipped over, shirts were in the aisles, pants hung over the racks, and the clearance racks were almost invisible under a pile of crumpled clothing. And that's how he spent the next half an hour, fighting the hordes of crazed mother's helping their daughters find something cheaper than the last, all the while trying to look like they weren't cheap themselves. He really didn't know how ten dollars was still too expensive for a pair of pants.

Everything was going wrong, and whichever executive was in charge tonight was either very cruel or very inexperienced. All the customers would destroy everything as soon as he fixed it, so quickly, in fact, that they sometimes destroyed it as he was still fixing it. One woman tore a pair of jeans from his hands as he was trying to fold them and he was left staring at her as she tossed it back on top of his pile, looking like had had somehow impeded her shopping experience. The thing that really angered him was that his front display kept getting tipped over because they insisted on it being in the middle of the aisle.

His boxers were riding up, his shoes were too small, his clothes were too hot, he was way too tired, and his lips were too chapped. He was starving because he hadn't been able to eat at all that day, since Francis insisted on them going out to the arcade before he went to work. Jayden had been a moron and handed him his last twenty, even though he'd been meaning to save it because he forgot his debit card at home.

Standing in the far corner beside the dresses, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples slowly. He could hear the destruction, and the chaos, and his heart's every painful beat as it pushed blood through his straining body. He could feel the world spinning, and every second ticking away as the ripples flowed in his shallow ocean. One thing went wrong and the ripple destroyed everything else. Two and a half hours, just two and a half hours, then maybe Francis wouldn't completely hog the bed and he'd be able to get some sleep.

He couldn't do this anymore. Jayden had nothing in his life yet it still managed to run him headfirst into the cold, hard ground. There was so much that was off, or wrong, and he needed to fix something, but he couldn't. He didn't know where to start.

Just get rid of Francis, he'd think, then remind himself how hard he'd been working. He'd been spending as many days as he could with Francis and the baby, even though it hurt him so much. Jayden had wanted to show that he could be there for him, if he needed help being a father. Neither of them had been a parent before, but Jayden was willing to try if it made things easier for him. But, the more time he spent with them, the more he reminded himself just how broken they were, just how much it would never and could never work.

"Excuse me," came a pompous, pushy, and incredibly annoying voice. Jayden opened his eyes and looked down at a squat little otter who was deeply bothered by Jayden's lack of workmanship, "I want those pants."

"Wh -"

"Those," she pointed, her finger indicated a pair tacked high up on the wall that was covered in a thin layer of dust, "up there."

Jayden blinked slowly, confused and frustrated, but he tried to play it off as something in his eye. He fidgeted his fingers nervously as he looked at the women's death stare, like he was wasting precious time she could be using ignoring her kids. If her demeanor was any indication, it showed that she only had kids to keep them as a fashion accessory. That is assuming it was her kids she was shopping for, and not a hated niece.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're not supposed to touch the displays," Jayden answered generically, with a forced smile.

"It says they're on sale, right there, on the tag, on the pant leg."

Great, she was going to be one of those customers. Rubbing his neck awkwardly, he looked back up at the pants and saw that it wasn't even a brand they carried anymore.

"Those pants have actually been up there for a few months, our visual team just hasn't taken them down yet," Jayden tried to explain, but she just shook her head and looked around, hoping there was someone more intelligent than him around.

"I'd like to talk to your manager," she said coldly, and Jayden nodded apathetically.

"Of course. Do you want to come up to the counter, or do you want me to bring her to you?"

"I'll stay here to make sure no one takes them, but don't take forever, because I have places to be."

"I'll be right back with her," Jayden said, closing his eyes as he turned to walk to the counter. A harried looking fox stood at the front of a long line, shoving things in bags to the harried chorus of clicks, beeps and grumbles. Her name was Claudia and she was one of he few people here who didn't treat him like he was a complete idiot. She did have a slight attitude, however, when she was overwhelmed as much as she was now, but it was understandable.

"What, Jayden?"

"I have a woman who has her mind set on getting a pair of pants that have been on the wall for months, even though I told her that we're not supposed to touch the displays. Do you know where Bella is?"

"No, I don't know, Jayden," she replied as she shook her head, pulling three jeans off their respective hangers in one motion, cramming them into a large black bag, "you'll just have to take it down, because everyone else is busy."

"Alright, I'll get on it," Jayden said with a sigh, walking to the back to grab a ladder.

The woman looked at him haughtily as he wheeled out the rickety black stock picking ladder from the back. Just as he was about to climb up it, she cleared her throat and he looked at her questioningly.

"I thought we agreed on you getting your manager?"

"She's unavailable at the moment, so I was told it's alright for me to take down the pants for you."

"I wanted to talk to your manager because, frankly, I think you're being rude."

Jayden bit the inside of his lip and breathed out slowly, making sure she wouldn't be able to hear him. This is not what he needed right now. If she didn't stop, he swore that he would find out where she lived and find creative ways to torment her endlessly; to make her life a living hell. He just looked at her and smiled weakly, trying to inject a twinkle into his eye. Charm was never a strong point of his.

"I'm sorry that you think that. I'm not trying to be rude, but if you have places you need to get to, trying to find my manager could take a while."

She looked at him with a scowl and strummed her fingers on her upper arm, like she was his mother and was very disappointed by his attitude. She looked like she wanted to smack him until he was unconscious, but she just nodded weakly.

"Alright, alright, but I'm going to be back here, first thing in the morning to complain."

Jayden smiled and climbed to the top, pulling the pins that held it up, sticking them into the hem of his shirt. As he climbed down, he handed them to her and she looked at them victoriously, like she'd finally beat the boss of the level. God, he was so deprived of sleep and gaming that he was beginning to think in gaming analogies. Looking closely at the places where the pins had been, she frowned and handed them back.

"On second thought, they're damaged. Damaged jeans won't do me much good, would they?"

She turned to walk away and Jayden collapsed back onto the step of the ladder, feeling so close to going on one of those rampages that he so often went into in his video games. Reaching for his phone, he needed to know if the night was almost over so he could go kill himself. Figuratively, of course.

"What time do you get out?" Said a text message that was printed across the lock screen, Francis' name showing up beside it.

"Eleven, assuming they don't keep me late. I'm in the busiest part of the store and it's a pigsty because I'm the only one in the section. I haven't even been able to make a dent in it."

It was odd that Francis was texting him. He really didn't do that anymore. Was it bad that the first thought that popped into his head was wondering what Francis could possibly want Jayden to buy him now? Francis texted him again as he was trying to pick up a pile of jeans and Jayden rubbed his head, reading the message.

"Well, do you want anything from the store? I can run and get you something if you want."

"But, the store is a mile away and you don't have a car."

"It's fine. I can walk, then I'll meet you outside work."

Jayden smiled, feeling some of that long forgotten cheer, his face actually starting to hurt because he'd forgotten how. He stared at the text message for a little while, feeling like he could actually make it through the next two hours, despite feeling the weight of emotional gravity tugging him down to the ground, where he'd finally be able to rest. Jayden wanted to see Francis' smile and the twinkle of his eyes behind the monochromatic text.

"If you do go, you know what I like."

The store was finally dying down and there were no longer ravenous shoppers attacking each other's throats or his displays. He actually managed to get the place looking somewhat like it belonged, and he kept up with the avalanches caused by careless little girls. He felt a renewed vigor and a new reason to keep working, knowing that Francis would be waiting outside for him, just like old times. He was almost happy again.

Eleven was rolling around with a sickening momentum, and he felt the butterflies fluttering in his stomach as the rough denim reminded him of his first time he pulled off Francis' jeans. Or the soft vanilla that came wafting over from the fragrance stand. It was amazing to be able to think with all five of his senses again and he couldn't help but smirk at the amusing memories.

Admiring the fact that he had somehow managed to clean the entire section in two hours, he walked over to the register so he could clock out. As he looked at his tired yet exuberant expression in the cold linoleum, he didn't even care that his stomach growled at him expectantly, because he knew that Francis was right outside, braving the cold just to see him.

His fingers flowed as he punched in his ID number and his pin, watching his reflection in the background as the printer deposited a small receipt of paper. He tucked it into his pocket and cut by the perfume section, a section which he usually avoided. Passing by the women's coats, he walked into the coatroom to grab his sweatshirt, the giddy excitement almost overwhelming. It almost felt like he'd been asked on his first date and he was about to be whisked away.

He smiled as his coworkers filed in, grabbing their jackets, purses, and umbrellas, expecting the first snow storm of the season. It could rain down chunks of ice the size of golf balls and he wouldn't care, though he really wished that it wouldn't. The small glass room past the first set of doors that acted like an airlock assaulted him with a fiery air, whipping the fur on his face and muzzle around furiously.

Grasping his sweatshirt as close as he possibly could, he prepared for the shock of cold, mixed with the shock of excitement. Instead, walking outside, he felt his heart stop beating it's fluttering beat, giving up on living all together. Nowhere in the mix of cold, or cars, or snow, or artificial light did he see Francis. With forced, sputtering breaths, he felt the cold invade his very insides, the warmth escaping his lips in the form of icy billows. His eyes stung from the cold and his heart hurt from the disappointment, leaving him to look around as his teeth chattered.

Everyone, dressed in black, filed out past him and into their cars, slowly leaving him alone. Francis hated walking, especially in the elements, but he promised, so he had to be on his way. He was just late because it was snowing, or he couldn't find the cookies that Jayden liked, or something. Anything. He knew Francis wouldn't let him down. He would be here any moment now and the cold wouldn't seem as important. They'd have each other to keep their bodies warm and the cold at bay.

The cars disappeared, leaving the snow as icy slush beneath their tires, until there were only a few hunks of metal left. There was a hiss behind him and the click of a lock as Jayden turned around to see Bella chatting with one of the executives. He looked pathetic, clutching his phone in his hand to check that it was midnight as Bella walked up to him. Her small hips fit into unnaturally small cloths, possibly even the tween clothing she sold. Her coy wolven eye looking at him with a gaze bordering on condescension, almost like she ran the place.

"Oh, hi, I thought I wouldn't be able to catch you until tomorrow," she said, her face showing years of hating her job, it's sporadic hours and all the morons she had to deal with, "but I guess I should say it now before I forget. The reason we don't want people taking displays down is because they're usually damaged and it almost always ends with them coming in the next day, complaining, and filling up the lines. We tell them there's a no-return policy, but who listens to us?"

"Yea, sorry. I guess I just wasn't thinking."

"It's alright. Just don't do it again."

They crumpled up and shoved themselves into the worn out, beaten down cars, their engines sputtering into life, burning away their lie of high standing. Pulling his phone back out of his pocket, he stretched his fingers to shatter the shards of ice in his muscles and he looked through his contacts for Francis. There was no response, but Jayden had been expecting this ever since he got that first drop in his stomach when Francis had texted him. Francis had changed too much just to spring back to his old self.

Trudging through the sludge of half melted snow, he tried to keep himself warm as he walked along the main road. His hands tucked into his arm pits and his head hidden beneath the fabric of his hood, he breathed the cold air in deeply. Flakes of snow landed on his muzzle as the wind blew off his hood, and he just ignored it, turning into his apartment complex.

The light from the lampposts was drowned out by the shifting veil of white, and the hiss of the world was masked by the howl of the wind. His heart wanted to yowl along with the otherworldly screams, but he just didn't have the energy. He had already thought he was running on empty, but it seemed you could never truly reach rock bottom.

He unlocked the side door and stumbled up the stair case, his skin burning painfully in the unnaturally hot halls, his sodden sweatshirt and his soaked pants leaving water trails as he slowly made his way home. No one was in the apartment, and he hadn't really expected anyone to be. He didn't know what his mother was doing, and he didn't really care, neither did he know what Francis was doing, and he desperately wanted not to care.

Unzipping his sweatshirt with his trembling fingers, he pulled it off, feeling the sands of time fall through the hourglass. It fell to the ground and stayed where he left it as he stepped out of his pants with a sigh. He wanted to be angry, but more than that, he wanted to be happy; and he couldn't, so what was the point of even caring? His shirts fell into the heap and began to soak his floor as he felt the air of his room chill his nearly naked form.

Feeling that hygiene was undeserving of any concern, he pulled a towel from his hamper and began to dry his body. The phone on his bed told him that it was going on half past midnight, so wherever Francis was, he probably wasn't coming back anytime soon. Pulling a dry hoodie over his head and jeans over his bare thighs, he collapsed back into computer chair, staring at the reflection of the light from the open door in his black monitor.

The house was completely silent, devoid of it's usual cheer and laughter. Rocking back and forth, he listened to the repeated squeak of the chair hinge, remembering that he'd been really meaning to fix it. He knew he could ask Francis to do it while he was working, but he had his own important things to do. The bear's dishes sat on his desk and computer while empty soda bottles littered the floor, along with his comforter. He really should clean his room.

Leaving the comfort of the chair that seemed more conformed to Francis' bottom than his own, Jayden grabbed the dishes, trying his best to balance as many as he could on his arms as he backed into the kitchen; at least the dish washer was empty.

The apartment door opened and Jayden glanced up into the darkened window just long enough to see the brown outline stumbling into the living room. At least he was dry, Jayden thought as he looked at the clock and saw it was one in the morning. He really didn't want to go to work at noon tomorrow.

Abandoning the dishes, he looked at Francis, a brow raised high up on his face. The bear leaned against the wall beside the door with his eyes closed and a single bottle of soda in his hand, a stupid grin on his face. Jayden crossed his arms, feeling like he was about to complain that he'd been home all day with the kids while Francis had been out with his friends. Life was beginning to become more and more dramatic and he began to fear that one day his life would become a soap opera.

"Nice of you to come home," he said shortly.

"Sorry, I got distracted," Francis mumbled.

"I can see that. You didn't even get me anything," Jayden stated, turning back to the dishes, just so he could have something to do with his hands beside strangle Francis. His mind was empty, but his hands quivered.

"I knew I forgot something!" Francis laughed heavily, the discrepancy between their moods obvious, but it only seemed to bother one of them, "See, I was at the store, but I didn't know what you liked, so I didn't get you anything."

Jayden rolled his eyes and closed the dishwasher, walking into his room without even acknowledging Francis. He sat down on the edge of his chair, hiding his face in his hands, listening as the bear collapsed onto the bed with his typical exhausted groan.

"Why'd you do my dishes?" Francis asked and Jayden looked deeply, almost angrily, into his quizzical eyes.

"Because, I'm sick of my room being a mess."

"You didn't have to do them, I was going to in the morning."

"You also said that two nights ago, Francis. It's just easier if I do everything myself, at least that way I know it gets done right," Jayden grumbled into his hands as Francis rest his head on the bed sheets, facing him with his eyes closed.

"What's your problem?" Francis asked defensively, his arms flopped behind him like he was waiting for a back massage or something. His breathing was depressed and calm, his thick head unable to pick up Jayden's not so subtle cues.

"What's wrong?" Jayden growled, "I really needed you tonight, Francis, and you disappeared. What the hell happened?"

"Nothing really," Francis spoke slowly, his lips moving leisurely and his voice not sounding quite right. No part of him seemed quite right; his mood, his reaction, his voice, his face, "I just met some people."

"You blew me off for 'some people'? What people, exactly?"

Francis opened his eyes and looked up at Jayden, his muscles sluggish and his expression looking plain stupid. His eyes were glassy and covered in small red marks as the blood vessels in his eyes dilated. Jayden knew instantly what was going on, but he didn't want to accept it, or even consider it.

"This girl and some friends."

Fighting what he really wanted to feel at those words, he rubbed the back his neck, sinking deeper towards the back of his chair. Francis had ditched him for a girl? Why would he even tell him, unless he was trying to get Jayden angry enough to back away? Even if that was the case, he knew it was probably for the best, but that didn't mean it would hurt any less.

"What is wrong with you?" Jayden asked, trying to find someway to divert his mind from what he would inevitably find out was true. He should have believed Becca, he should have kicked out Francis and just gotten used to sleeping alone again.

"I'm just tired," Francis said slowly as he looked around the room, his eyes falling on Jayden occasionally, but it was like he didn't even see him. In the bright overhead light, Jayden could still see the bright red veins and exactly what was going on.

"You're stoned, aren't you?"

"I told you, I'm just tired."

"Francis, I haven't spent all this time on this relationship, trying to get it to work just for you to lie to me about everything," Jayden said and Francis pushed himself up to take out a bag of chips from his pants pocket. It opened with a loud pop and he chewed on them lazily, not yet dropping dead from the glare being shot at him. Was this really so unimportant to him?

"You know, I've been thinking about it a lot lately," Francis mumbled, spraying partially chewed potato chips out of his open mouth, "and I'm not so sure I like guys anymore."

"Wh-" Jayden stammered, looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed. What he said hadn't made any sense, he must of misspoken, or there was something else in what he had smoked. He was delusional, or something. Putting his hands around his muzzle, he pressed his fingers into his eyes and breathed in deeply, "What?"

How could he possibly just decide that he wasn't bisexual, or gay, or whatever, anymore? How did he just turn it off like a switch? Jayden swore that if he could, he'd just flip all the switches and become asexual, at least that way he'd have a chance at being happy. After the day he had, this isn't what he wanted to hear, and even though he knew deep down that this heart shattering turn of events was for the best, he didn't want to hear it.

"I don't know, it just doesn't feel right anymore."

He didn't know what made him decide to change his mind, but he had the distinct feeling that it's morality had nothing to do with it. He had a feeling that what Becca had said was playing a huge part in the way events were unfolding. Once Jayden got too close and expected too much from him, he'd back away and hide behind someone else.

What had made Tammy different? What had made him decide to tie the knot with her, and finally try for a monogamous relationship? What made him revert back to his old ways? He had probably been frightened away from relationships again by the looming responsibility of his fatherhood.

Jayden didn't even care, because, for once, it was about him. As he pushed himself from the bed, he could hear his heart shattering all at once. The sound rang, and buzzed, and echoed until it was all he heard as he stood with his eyebrow perked, the words stolen from his tongue. Nothing seemed quite right as he tried to form a response.

"Next time you get stoned, don't even bother coming home," Jayden said, the fragments of his heart rattling in his chest beside his straining lungs. His throat clenched as the familiar feelings of loss, and regret, and shame, and loathing, and everyone else fell onto him in one painful moment of realization; you can't lose what you never had.

Collapsing onto the couch, he curled his legs into his chest as foggy memory of his bedroom washed into the hall amidst the light seeping out the cracks. When things fall apart, you always do everything you can to try to piece it back together, to hold it together with whatever you can find, be it old friends, old lovers, or even vices. Jayden had used Francis to build his life from nothing, but now he knew was stupid for building on such an unsure foundation. Now he was gone, the pieces had settled again, and he had no idea how to even begin to build up the pieces.

He should have pushed him out the door, threw his stuff out the window, and kicked his ass but he didn't even care, because he wasn't even mad at him. He was mad at himself. He'd always known.

Worst comes to worst, it could be like old times, curled up on the couch watching history's ghosts dance across the screen as he watched those corny love moves, once again making fun of the fact that those tender moments never really happened in the real world.