Hi peoples. Um... yeah... this is just a little something to try and get my creative juices flowing again. I just wrote it in three and a half hours just now so please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes because I'm sure this has plenty. Anyways, I really like this, I enjoyed writing it and I think... I dunno, there's just something about it. The idea behind this story was to take popular cliches and try to make a meaningful, powerful story out of them, so while you're reading, keep that in mind. I'm trying to make fun of cliches while also showing that they can be good stories when used correctly. I dunno if I pulled it off, you decide.

Warnings: There's no smut in this one, the most you get is a kiss, sorry. I kinda wanted to go simple and innocent, but bare and exposed, to show just the emotion. Now, even though there's no sex, there is depression and suicide in it. And of course it's slash, meaning gay, homosexual, guy on guy. No like? Kiss my ass. Wanna flame? Feel free. I need a good laugh.

Enjoy! XD

Calling

By: Converse Tennis Shoes

Dedicated to: my mom, who is the strongest person I know. (yes I dedicated a sad, slash story to my mom, got a problem with it?)

I always knew that I loved him.

Some may think that love at first sight is impossible, overrated, cliché, and maybe just downright stupid.

Well, maybe I am stupid and my life is as cliché as they come.

I was born to perfect Catholic parents who had the perfect family, three sons and two daughters, the perfect house, green lawn and a white picket fence, and the perfect lives, my dad being a doctor and my mother a teacher.

I grew up having the perfect childhood, but that all changed when I met him. I was twelve and had just entered middle school.

He swaggered into English class one day, twenty minutes late and a confident smirk on his face. His ear length blond hair was sticking up in every direction possible and his pants were so baggy they looked like they were about to fall off.

After being lectured by the teacher for being late, he shrugged and sat down in the desk behind me. A few seconds later, I felt him tapping lightly on my shoulder.

He needed a pencil.

I gave him one, being the polite young gentleman I was taught to be.

Our eyes met briefly, his dark stormy gray eyes curiously peering into my pale bluish green.

Maybe it was curiosity, or some weird twist in fate. Maybe it was God just having a little bit of fun.

Whatever it was, it had me.

And it refused to let go.

When I look back on it, me becoming friends with Riley was something that never should have happened.

But it did.

I don't know how it happened, but we soon became inseparable.

I'm sure that many people did a double take when they saw us together.

I was the prim and proper Catholic boy with impeccable grades and even more professional features, my black hair always combed and pants always ironed. He was the wild and unpredictable bad boy with an eccentric wardrobe and constantly changing tastes in women.

Yes, women.

Riley was fascinated with the opposite sex, whether they be older or younger. My blond haired best friend could not get enough of them and he never stopped whispering in my ear, commenting on different girls and what he thought of them.

Riley loved women, and women loved him.

Maybe it was the bad boy aura, but girls flocked to him like moths to a light.

And thus begins the conflict of my story.

Whereas my friend was having fun with our female companions, I was busy trying to figure out why exactly I had certain feelings for Riley.

I mean, is it normal to hate every girl who touches your best friend?

Is it normal to be jealous every time your best friend comments on how hot someone is?

Is it normal to want to kiss your best friend?

"You're a wimp, you know that?" Riley laughed as we shoved each other around the kitchen

I was staying over at Riley's house and we were supposed to be watching movies, but since Riley's mom was now asleep, he had stolen a bottle of vodka and another one filled with whiskey from her stash.

"Just try it."

"No!"

Riley and I ended up going out back to his tree house and consuming nearly everything that was in both bottles. We were so wasted I hardly knew were I was anymore. Riley had a slightly higher tolerance than me, but he was pretty much gone as well.

Somehow, we came to the conversation of superheroes.

Don't ask me. We were two drunk, thirteen year old boys.

"Duuuude, Spiderman could so beat Batman's ass."

"Nah-uh!"

"Yeah he could."

"Well Superman could beat any of them, anyday, anytime."

"Hell yeahs!"

I started randomly singing the Spiderman song, way out of tune and getting all the words mixed up. Riley laughed and joined in.

"Hey, hey, hey." I stopped singing suddenly and tugged on Riley's sleeve, "You wanna know who's my biggest, most favoritest, hero?"

"Who?"

"YOU!!" I practically jumped on him, wrapping my arms around Riley's neck.

"Haha. I'm a superhero!!!" Riley made a few punches into the air.

"Can I be your sidekick?"

"Yeah!!"

"Forever?!"

"Forever!!!!"

Riley's mom found us the next morning both passed out in the tree house, reeking of stale alcohol.

I begged her not to tell my parents, which she didn't. She did yell at us and told us that she would tell my parents next time we broke into any of her liquor and she would ground Riley for a month.

We apologized and promised we would be good.

And luckily, neither one of us remember much of that night.

I never told anyone about my feelings, not even Riley.

No, I kept them locked away deep inside, ignoring them when ever they forced their way to the surface. I figured that it was all part of growing up, that this was all because the raging hormones my mother told me about.

It never occurred to me that I might be gay.

I was raised Catholic, so I knew that having lustful feelings for someone of the same sex was wrong. And as naïve and stupid as it may sound, I never thought myself to be one of those sinful people.

I loved my best friend.

Aren't you supposed to love your best friend?

It wasn't until sophomore year in high school that I realized that I loved Riley too much.

We were having a discussion in class about our futures and the teacher asked us to describe our dream companions. She even gave us small diagrams and she told us that she would not force us to share what we wrote on them with the class and the diagrams would not be turned in as a grade.

I wrote one word.

Riley.

It was also in my sophomore year that I was shown the harsher part of being what I was.

I was in the locker rooms, getting ready to take a shower after P.E.

What I saw I would never forget.

Three boys were beating up a fourth, calling him names and spitting on him. The poor boy tried to hold his ground, but the more he defended himself, the worse it got. I could only stand there in shock as cuss words were thrown at him without remorse and fists connected over and over again with his body.

Finally the beaten boy gave up and just laid there on the ground, blood from his nose making a red puddle on the tiled floor.

"Fuckin fag. It's what you deserve." One hissed, giving him a final kick to the stomach.

After they left, I ran forward and helped him up, using my towel to stop the bleeding.

"Are you ok?" I finally managed to choke out.

"What do you think?" he whispered back, his pathetic attempt at humor making us both smile a little.

I looked him over, shaking my head at the many bruises marring his skin.

"Why'd they do this?"

The defeated creature in front of me just tilted his head to the side and looked at me as if I were stupid.

"I'm gay." He said, as if that would answer my question.

Until the day I died, I would never understand what he meant.

I finally broke my junior year of high school.

I told Riley how I felt about him.

I kissed him.

He shoved me away, a look of surprise and disgust covering his face.

"What the fuck man?!" He screamed, "I mean, honestly!! What the fuck?!"

He then turned around and ran away.

I went home that night and cried.

I prayed to God for help.

I told him that even if I was no longer a holy and righteous person; that I never asked to fall in love with Riley.

I never wanted to fall in love with another man.

I told God that even if I was damned to hell, I still believed in him.

And I still loved Riley.

The next day, Riley came up to me and apologized. He hugged me and said that he didn't want to jeopardize our friendship.

I'd rather have Riley in my life as a friend than to not have him at all. I laughed and told him it was probably just a phase I was going through. I told him that I was just curious; that I was merely experimenting.

Riley seemed to find this funny and punched my lightly in the arm.

"Man, for a moment there you really scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry."

"S'all good. S'all good." He drawled.

I think he knew that I was lying, but he never said anything.

Apparently someone saw me kiss Riley.

Over the next few days, weird looks and insults were thrown my way so I took to locking myself in the janitor's closets near the library for extended periods of time.

Especially during gym.

The guys would kick me out of the locker room until everyone was done dressing, thus making me late for my next class so I just stopped going.

Sometimes in the janitor's closet I would do homework, or just sit there and think, but most of the time I cried myself to sleep.

I couldn't understand why this was happening to me.

Had I angered God or something?

Why did I have to fall for my male best friend?

The worst part was that I wanted to be mad at Riley for this. I wanted to hate the fact that I was in love with him.

But I couldn't.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hate my feelings of love.

And I definitely couldn't hate him.

Unfortunately, some of the boys found out about my hiding place and decided to skip gym as well to come and 'comfort' me.

I had been sleeping, wet tear tracks still shining on my face when I hear a loud bang.

Shooting awake, I see that they have busted the door down and are now leering at me. It is the same boys I had seen last year beating up that poor kid in the showers.

"Aww, look at the little fag all alone in the closet."

I could only whimper and push myself further into corner. "Please leave me alone."

One of them grabs my hair and drags me out into the center of the janitor's closet. I scream and thrash my arms wildly.

"Stop!! Leave me alone!! Please!! Riley!!! Oh God!! Please leave me alone!!! Riley!! RILEY!!!"

"Shut up. Your boyfriend can't help you."

"Yes I can!!" a voice says out of nowhere.

Suddenly, two of my would-be assaulters go flying into a rack of cleaners as if pushed hard from behind. Then the one holding me by my hair doubles over in pain, releasing me in the process, as he is hit in the head with a metal bucket.

I see a flash of blond hair, before Riley grabs me by the arm and all but carries me out of the janitor's closet. Once outside he drops me rather roughly onto the floor, but I don't really care as I watch him lock door of the closet.

"Hey sorry I'm late." Riley pants as he kneels down in front of me. "I saw that they had skipped gym but I didn't know where they had gone so I was practically runnin around school like a chicken with its head cut of-"

Riley falls silent as I wrap my arms around him in a bone-crunching hug. It's all I can do, because this whole situation is still not registering in my head.

"You came." I sob quietly.

"Of course I did. You called me didn't you?"

My face turns beet red as I become conscious of the fact that I actually had called Riley's name. I hadn't even realized it at the time; I had simply acted on instinct.

"I…" I suddenly burst into an uncontrollable fit of tears, sobbing like a child against Riley's shoulder. I can't keep it all inside myself anymore.

"It's ok. I'm here."

"T-th-thank-k y-y-you-ou" I choke out in between my uneven sobs.

"Hey, anytime you call me, I'll come runnin. You remember that. Anytime you need me. Anytime."

"OOOHHH!! Look at my boys!" Riley's mom coos as she snaps a million different pictures at our high school graduation.

Both of us are dressed in our caps and gowns, green and silver to match our school colors. Riley has thrown one arm over my shoulders and is flashing the camera the peace sign.

I don't know how much longer I can hold this ridiculous smile.

Riley's mom is a short, busty woman with a big nose and an even bigger heart. She somehow managed to raise both Riley and his older brother by herself, Riley's dad leaving two months after Riley's birth.

My own parents are off somewhere in the crowd, probably talking with other people of high social status. I love my parents but sometimes I wish they'd pay more attention to me. I mean, their oldest son only graduates from high school once.

I sigh.

Riley senses my mood deteriorating and he immediately knows what I'm thinking.

"Hey man. Cheer up." He gives my shoulders a squeeze.

"I'm good."

"Sure you are."

I try to look offended, but I know I can't fool Riley. I sag slightly.

"Look, don't worry about them ok? This is an awesome day and you aren't going to spend it being mopey."

"Is mopey even a word?"

"I dunno."

I laugh lightly, shaking my head.

"See, there you go. Now just imagine it. Both of us in college, roommates with no parents around. Booze and women. It's gonna be kick-ass!"

Riley now has a dreamy look in his eyes and a lop-sided grin has appeared on his face. He actually combed his hair for once and it's now straight and sleek, hanging down to his collar bone.

His tanned face seems to be glowing.

I can't stop staring.

"Yeah. It will be."

"And you can finally start living your life, without your parents telling you what to do. You better believe it, these next few years are going to be awesome."

"I guess." I blush and look away.

"Hey you gonna be ok?"

"With you there, of course I will be." I have no idea where that came from, it just slipped right out.

"Yeah, we'll be there for each other."

A sudden possessive streak forces itself forward.

"Promise." I blurt out.

Riley pauses while I fidget uncomfortably.

"Promise. All you gotta do is call me and I'll come runnin. Remember?"

"Really?"

"Really really. You need someone lookin after you kid." Riley then pulls me into a head lock and messes up my neat black hair, my green cap falling off in the process.

Just as I manage to pull away from him and pick the hat back up, dozens of graduation caps fly into the air. Riley gives a cry of delight and looks over at me, grinning like a school boy, and pulls his own off his head.

"Riley!" I call and hold up my cap, tassel swinging wildly. "One. Two. Three!!"

At the same time, Riley and I throw our hats up into the flying green mass.

Her name is Carrie Young.

She's blonde, has huge boobs, and legs any model would die for.

Riley's in love with her.

Yeah, he's been with a lot of women, but I can tell that she's special. He lights up whenever she walks into the room and he never shuts up about her. It's always "Carrie this" and "Carrie that."

Plus he hasn't looked at another woman since he met her.

Our college is full of more beautiful women, but he is fixated on Carrie. He even started decorating the wall over his bed in our dorm room with pictures of her. And I hear him in the bathroom sometimes, jacking off and calling her name.

It makes me sick.

I hate her.

She's not good enough for him.

Just a week ago I saw her go into another class latched onto the elbow of another man. I so stunned that I could only stand there in shock and watch as she leaned forward and kissed him and giggled like the little whore she was as he in turn ran a hand up her mini-skirt.

She can never love Riley as much as I love him.

Yes, I still love Riley.

You would think that after all these years, I would have gotten over him.

I haven't.

We'll be graduating from college in a few months and I still think of no one but him.

I'm scared that after college Riley with leave me for Carrie and in a year he will have forgotten about me completely.

He's talking about proposing to her.

He asked me the other day if I would be best man at his wedding if he ever did get married.

I didn't answer him.

I couldn't.

It was my dad's.

I had gone home for the weekend to take a break from college and I found it in his desk.

I never knew that he owned one, but the proof was lying in my hands.

What I also don't know is why I took it and stashed it in my overnight bag.

I sat on the bench in the park near our college, crying. Anybody who might have walked by wouldn't have seen my tears though because it was pouring down rain.

My clothes were soaked and I was shaking from the cold, but I didn't dare go back to our dorm room.

I had made the mistake of walking in there only ten minutes earlier.

Riley and Carrie were having sex on the floor in between our beds. I could hear their grunts and moans. I could hear Riley's "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Neither one heard me come in.

Neither one heard me go back out.

I'm pathetic, sitting on this park bench in the rain, crying over something I was never supposed to have in the first place.

I'm Catholic, so maybe it's a good thing that I can never have Riley.

Maybe this is God's way of leading me away from temptation.

But why does this have to hurt so much?

I wait ten more minutes before pulling my jacket over my head and taking the cell phone out of the inside pocket. I dial our dorm room number.

After a few rings, a groggy but giddy Riley answers. I can hear Carrie's giggles in the background.

"'Lo?"

"Hey Riley." I croak into the phone. He immediately picks up on my mood.

"Hey… what's wrong…."

"Can you spare a few minutes?"

"Um…. sure…."

"I'm in the park."

Riley pauses.

"Jesus! It's raining freakin waterfalls outside!! Why don't you come back to the dorm?!"

"No… I can't…."

"Why?"

I gave a small sob, "She's there."

"Are you crying?"

"Pleeeease."

"Be there in five."

True to his word, Riley comes running up the path a few minutes later, huffing and puffing.

He spots me sitting still as a rock on the bench and stalks up to me.

"Ok, this isn't funny. What the hell is going on?!"

I cringe at his tone.

I suppose he has a right to be mad.

"I walked in on you guys just a little while earlier."

Riley pauses, but then smirks, "So…. You're not jealous are you? I keep telling you to get a girl."

"No. I don't want a girl."

It takes him a moment, but Riley eventually catches the double meaning to my sentence.

"Don't tell me you're still…. That you …. You have GOT to be kiddi-"

"I love you, Riley!!" I interrupt him, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I don't care anymore.

To hell with what people think. To hell with my religion.

I love Riley.

I stomp forward, each step deliberate and powerful. I grab his head and crash my lips against his. I feel him try to pull away, but tighten my grip, taking a firm hold of his long hair and twisting my fingers through it painfully.

I have never kissed anyone before, except for that one in my junior year when I first confessed to Riley.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

I just act on instinct.

And the kiss is everything I'd hoped it would be. His lips are soft and warm against the cold rain and I coax his lips open. It just feels right as I force my tongue into his mouth and taste him. He squirms uncomfortably, but I'm not satisfied.

I could die happy right now, as I continue to kiss Riley, claiming every corner of his mouth as mine.

Once I'm done, I let him go and step back.

Riley just stands there, staring at his feet.

"I'm sorry." I say suddenly.

"What makes you think you can do that?" Riley whispers, voice cracking.

"I love you." I say simply.

"I love Carrie." He answers smoothly, running one hand though his hair. He still won't look up at me

"She doesn't love you." I shoot back, a little meaner than I had intended.

Riley's head jerks upward at this and his eyes narrow into a hateful glare.

"Yes she does."

"I saw her just two weeks ago with another guy. She was kissing on him and everything."

I had hoped that Riley would then turn his anger towards Carrie and dump her. Instead, he keeps all his anger focused on me.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is." I shout, stomping my foot like a three year old. "I saw it with my own two eyes. She's a whore Riley, why can't you see that?! She's not good enough fo-"

It doesn't seem to register that he has slapped me until after I have stood there a few moments, face turned to the side and cheek stinging in pain.

"Don't you ever talk about Carrie like that again." Riley growls, voice deadly, "I love her. She loves me."

Riley then whips back about and sloshes away, hair dripping into his eyes. After he walks about ten feet away, the love of my life turns back around and shouts at me angrily.

"Just so you know, we're getting married. I proposed and she said yes."

He then disappears into the rain.

I trudge back over to the bench and plop back down.

I'm right back were I started.

Only this time, I know Riley won't come to me if I call him.

Reaching into my other inside pocket of my jacket, I touch the cool metal and gently pull it out.

Who would have thought that I, the perfect little Catholic boy, would end up like this?

It doesn't matter.

I'm tired and I've finally reached the end of my rope.

I can't do this anymore.

I've known Riley for almost eleven years.

And I always knew that I loved him.

Some may think that love at first sight is impossible, overrated, cliché, and maybe just downright stupid.

Well, maybe I am stupid and my life is as cliché as they come.

The next day, there was a hush over the college.

People whispered and gossip spread.

People cried.

Everyone knew that one of the students had committed suicide.

"Did you hear about happened?"

"Yeah... It's so sad."

"Why'd he do it?"

"Nobody knows."

"I heard his roommate is really shaken up. Totally flipped when he heard about it."

"Well wouldn't you do the same if your best friend…."

"I heard they were really close."

The police asked questions and the park was roped off as the mess was cleaned up.

A funeral was held where many students showed up and comforted the family of the victim.

The victim's roommate, Riley, wasn't seen for many weeks by the student population. It was said that he went home and was getting over his best friend's death.

Riley did finally come back to school, where he broke up with his fiancé after catching her cheating on him.

After a few months, Riley finally started talking a smiling again, but he always remained distant.

Nobody blamed him.

He had just lost his best friend for a reason nobody but he himself seemed to know.

Some people asked him about what happened, but he never said a thing.

Riley trudged through the cemetery, walking the path he knew all too well.

In the back of the cemetery, under an old oak tree, he came across to his destination. The grave he stood in front of was not ornate or different than the many surrounding it, just another tombstone and small mound of dirt with grass starting to grow over it.

It had been a year since it happened.

Riley still found it hard to believe that he was gone.

The regret that coursed through him was poison and pain gripped his heart.

"I would have come back. I swear to god I would have." Riley whispered, reaching forward and gently stroking the cold stone, "You didn't call me…. I would have come back…."

Sad no? I bet you thought they were going to get together. I mean that's the cliche right? I wanted to shake things up a bit.

Anyways, tell me what you think.

much luv

shoes