The story doesn't actually take place at 10:00 PM but is, as correctly titled, the product of it. Feel free to correct me on any spelling/typo mistakes, I'm sure there are plenty.

Rated highly to be safe.

--

I was never really a party person. To be completely honest, I had come to hate it - the music, the alcohol (alright, I admit the alcohol wasn't all that bad), the sweaty bodies, the immaculate amount of sexual innuendo and, of course, the actual sex. Yes, I was male. Yes, I was gay. No, I wasn't crazy.

I loved sex. Maybe more than I should have, maybe more than anyone; when I heard songs, my immediate reaction was 'hey, I could have sex to that' or 'wow, that's...that's a no.' At the moment, the beat of Banquet by Bloc Party had my pants fitting tighter than usual but, hey...I mean...alright. Alright, I admit: it was probably the person in my mind that I was mentally fucking, not the actual song, but, hah, yeah...I tossed that theory away, something about being fueled by self-distress.

And, come to think of it, I thought of sex no more than anybody else in my situation. I mean, when your ex-boyfriend looks like the epitome of it, 'sex' is the first thing that should come to your mind. Especially when he's everywhere.

I don't say everywhere like a simple passing and then he's on your mind for the rest of the day, no. I mean everywhere such as we have no classes together, we don't live by each other seeing as I'm rooming charge-free with Daniel Treyman, and we certainly don't seek each other out in conversation. No, quite the opposite. I'm sure we went to great lengths to avoid one another. As fate would have it, though, and beautiful lady luck, he was...ugh. Everywhere that I went, Kinder LeGates was right there waiting for me and avoiding his gaze -- or more appropriately avoiding landing my gaze on him --- seemed to take over whatever hours remained of twenty-four. I mean, it's not like he was that much to look at.

If you considered a God less than something to look at.

Peh.

I spent my twenty-fourth birthday with my best friend Logan at a bar (I hated clubs, remember?) and it was perhaps the most depressing birthday I've managed to have. I ended up with some richy rich over-dominating prat back at my dorm by 2:30 AM and, by three, Daniel was throwing pillows and shoes at him, telling him to "get the fuck out, this isn't a brothel!"... I didn't say rooming free with him didn't come with it's downsides. It being free was actually the only 'up'.

Conclusion? I wasn't going to get laid staying with Mr. Perfect and Overly OCD, so, well, I gave it a try anyway and I failed. I did not try again in fear of repeating said failure - not a surprising thing, and not that it made my birthday suck any less. Mind you, it definitely made it suck all the more.

Or not suck, depending on which way you...yeah.

I had technically had sex once or twice since my relationship, my ultimately hott relationship, with Kinder LeGates had ended. It was not, of course, for lack of trying. And it wasn't because I was a pathetic loser who couldn't get a guy for the life of me, either. It was simply because once the deed was about to be done, and once I had the guy just within reach of my lips, some twist of reality fucked it up and no, I refuse to believe that had been a sick play on words. Something above hated me and by hating me, I had yet to get off with any other means than my own heading-towards-carpel-tunnel right hand. I sighed at this, angrily rolling over on my twin bed (something else I was still getting used to) and pounded my face into the pillow, pretending it was his head, or maybe his jaw, or maybe his cock - I mean, I wanted to do something to them all equally enough, right?

"If you're thinking about him again, please punch something that doesn't belong to me."

"Don'tworry," I mumbled into the Kinder-head-cock pillow. I'll just aim for you.

"Seriously, Joshua; I think it's about time you...grew up or something. I mean, he's a slut, he's an asshole, and he's too popular for his own good at the age of twenty-three. I mean, Christ --- didn't we stop having popularity contests in high school or something? He's a grown man. He should act like it."

"Like you know him?" I asked, raising my head and thus my eyebrow. "You've talked to him...what...twice?"

Daniel scoffed. "Once, but that doesn't matter. I read people pretty well."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, diving my face back into the cottony plush beneath me. I sighed to let all of the energy in my body drain out through that simple release of breath because, in the end, hating him was tiresome. Matter of fact, since he'd 'needed a change' - that prick - my whole life seemed on the brink of exhaustion, despite that it should be, what, exactly the opposite? I wasn't taken now. I still had my classes, and my job with the Xalen weekly but, Christ, where did all of my time go?

I know, I know. I hadn't any more spare time now than I did then, I just spend it....differently (or not at all), and most often that's over working myself with the paper, procrastinating on classwork and then in result, getting only almost-decent grades the next day. At night I head out with Logan when, in reality, I was trying to catch a peek of Kinder only to get jealous and pissed off and spend the rest of the night brooding like some fifteen year old chick. Seriously, it was pathetic. I was pathetic. And Daniel's breathing annoyed me.

"Can you stop?" I mumbled, sure that he wouldn't hear me.

"Stop what?" Of course he had.

I sighed, saying nothing more. My mother had called not twenty minutes earlier to remind me that she would be in Chapel Hill the next day and, in result, I was inclined to have lunch with her - not the most terrible thing, much more endurable than, say, having to have lunch with Kinder and not either A) ripping his head off or B) shoving my tongue down his throat, but, of course, not the highlight of my day. Not that I had a highlight. I had no life. My mother, my single mother of fifty-two, had more of a life than me. My grandparents, who resided next door, had no need of popularity because they'd been married sixty years, never failing to say "I love you" twice in an hour, and who needed to be popular when you were in love?

Whatever. My only life I had knocked on the door just then and, without mumbling so much as a hello, swept in and informed me that I was late to dinner to meet 'the perfect guy' and that he was then inclined to force me out of my room. I flipped him off. Five minutes later, Logan had forced me out of my room.

I sighed.

"Again?"

He nodded. "Again."

I groaned, "No. I fucking refuse. I give up. Not another date. Fuck you. Get away from me."

"Don't pout. And shut up, you're hott, you're tall enough - not as tell as me -, not so much muscle but you'll do.....you're brunette and you haven't shaved in two days so you have just enough stubble to look tastey."

"Did you just call me...tasty?"

"No, not at all. And besides, we have to fatten you up - what've you been doing lately? Eating once a day?" When he leaned to the right to say this, I didn't miss the wandering eye towards Brandon's girlfriend ten or eleven feet behind me.

"My height makes up for my weight."

"Hardly. That shirt looks great on you, though." He's sight was all for Samantha (the mentioned girlfriend above of the freshmen who was probably talking himself into kicking Logan's ass).

"Are you sure you aren't gay?"

"You're pouting. I am your best friend. I feel inclined to boost your ego."

"So none of what you're saying is true? And how do you do that --- carry on a conversation and oggle simutaneously?"

"Aside from the fact you aren't as tall as me and you're scrawny, then, no. I'm not oggling."

"I'm scrawny now? Alright."

"Oh, and the stubble."

"I hardly have any....you have more than me."

"But I'm blonde. Makes mine a tad bit hotter."

I stared at him with eyebrows raised as he returned his eyes to me. I sighed, then, defeated. "I'm not going, Logan. Don't make me. I'll...bite you or kick you or punch you. Hard."

"Sexy. Not that you're getting any of that."

I glared, I'm sure, harder than I have in a while. I said nothing.

He sighed. "Come on, Josh...you can't...I get that hating somebody has its perks, and it sure as hell keeps you from that big black depressed hole, but this is out of proportion. It's become an obsession."

I looked incredulous. I know I did. How did he get...out of..."How did you bring Kinder into this when all I'm saying is I don't want another blind date?"

He remained calm, despite the rise of my voice, and testing every nerve in me, smiled. "Uhm. Hello. I am not blind, no matter if your date is or not."

I...ugh. "Ugh! You are...go away. Fall down the stairs."

"He always gets you riled up. It's cute."

"Faggot."

He laughed at me.

"You better be glad I have no intention of hurting you because, damn it, if I could get my hands around your fucking scrawny neck I would ---"

"Scrawny? Moi?"

"You are 6 fucking feet and one hundred pounds. You're a fucking toothpick."

"No, you're just a significant amount of inches beneath six feet and one hundred and twenty pounds, so I think that makes you fat."

"You just called me scraw..."

"I lied."

"Logan Stee-"

He laughed at me again. "I'm...jeez, okay, never again will I bring up Kinder's name in your presence again. Even though, I only brought up the situation, you actually said the name..."

"Get...the hell....out of my hall."

"Your hall? This is...Hall of Joshua Kelley?"

I just stared at him. If he wasn't my best friend I would've shot him by now, shot him three years ago and I would've...I would've...I could...not...think. Because Kinder was walking right down Joshua Kelley's hall. Looking down at the floor, unaware of the actual Joshua Kel - of me. Fuck.

I think I shoved every breath of air I was about to breathe out and then, grabbing Logan's arm, I threw him so hard into my room I wouldn't be surprised if he landed directly on top of Daniel and broke him. I shut the door, luckily, hopefully, before Kinder ever seen me and, immediately, a scowl spread right across my face.

And Logan looked amused.

"Shut up! Shut the hell up. If I hear one damn thing from the two of you I will ---" I stopped, hearing him cough lightly as he passed my room, undoubtedly heading for someone he knew further down "--- beat you senseless."

Daniel looked horrified. Logan grinned at me. And me? I dropped to the floor, exhaling, my shoe hitting the tip end of Daniel's bed. Staring at it, my glare successfully - I think - masked my frown.

Yeah, it's like I told you. So fucking exhausting.