I Am Not Uptight!

The House part 4

“No loud noises after 10 PM.” Josh distinctly remembered Daniel telling him that that was a rule in that house, but apparently, it was as flexible as a slinky since the music died along with the party at 3: 24 in the morning—a fact that Josh knew all too well because he was lying wide awake in his bed, unable to sleep. Even after the party finished, he found himself tossing and turning for the second night in a row.

Everything seemed so chaotic—and as much as he would like to pin the blame on his ex-boyfriend ripping his heart out and tearing it to shreds, he knew that everything was ultimately his own doing—but since he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it for the next few months, Josh decided to suck it up and try to regain control of his life. He started with going back to his typical routine.

Despite the little sleep he had, he got out of bed, brushed his teeth, changed into his workout clothes, put on his earphones, then quietly got out of his room and walked down the stairs. It was no surprise that the place was a mess. Of course no one bothered to clean up after a night of drinking. Bottles of beer, glasses and cups were all over every surface, even the floor—who would even leave a bottle on the floor where anyone could trip over it?—and there were still boxes of pizza, both empty and not, hanging wide open to let out the stink of cheese all over the first floor. What Josh saw as a marvelous house just yesterday morning had suddenly transformed into a college dorm overnight—stinky and messy—and to drive that metaphor home, there was Daniel sleeping on the couch like that one student who was too drunk to go back to his room last night.

Josh let out a disapproving sigh as he walked towards Daniel—who was lying there with his arm and leg hanging over the couch, and his mouth slightly open—then picked up the bottle right next to his foot and placed it on the coffee table. He felt a strong urge to clean, but he managed to talk himself out of it—thinking it shouldn’t be his problem. So, as much as it pained him to leave the place all dirty, Josh headed towards the door and began his daily run.

It really was peaceful in that neighborhood, he found. Only a few people were out on the street at 5:30 in the morning, and there were barely any cars passing by as well. The houses were as big or bigger than the one he just moved into, and they were all spaced far apart—which was probably why no one complained about the noise last night.

After almost an hour of jogging around, Josh made his way back but stopped just as he reached the walkway. He caught his breath and wiped the sweat off his brow as he looked up at the house. How something old and elegant made its way into the hands of the likes of Daniel who turned it into a fun house, he would never fully understand. With a sigh, Josh prepared himself to see the mess inside once again before walking up to the door and entering—but no amount of mental conditioning could ever truly prepare him.

A wave of disappointment washed over him as soon as he stepped inside, finding the place in the same state he left it—only this time, Daniel had begun to snore while hugging a throw pillow. Josh headed straight to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water, trying hard not to look at the bottles and paper plates around him. He washed the glass then wiped his hands with a paper towel, thinking repeatedly to himself that he was going to head upstairs and take a bath. He was not going to clean. He was not going to pick up after other people, even if the mess was in a shared space. He was not going to be that kind of person who needed things to be in order. He was not going to cle—

Josh had just stepped out of the kitchen when that bottle on the floor right between the dining room and the living room caught his eye. “That’s really dangerous,” he muttered quietly to himself as he walked over to it and picked the bottle up, then another, and another, and another. Before he knew it, he had placed more than a dozen bottles onto the kitchen island, and he was closing and stacking pizza boxes onto the countertop. Just when he told himself that that was the last thing he would do—that he really wouldn’t clean up—he noticed that something had spilt and dried on the floor in front of the sliding door.

“It might stain,” he thought to himself—a clear excuse that was enough to make him look for the mop. He found it inside the laundry room, but he also found a pair of cleaning gloves, a disinfectant spray, and a rag—all of which he took into the living room.

Josh didn’t know how he ended spraying and wiping down all of the furniture and surfaces in the living room, dining room, and kitchen, but he was in the middle of finally mopping the dried beer on the floor when he saw the front door slowly swing open. In came a tired-looking young man with short black hair and rolled-up sleeves, looking like he had had a sleepless night just like Josh.

“Who are you?” the man straightforwardly asked as soon as he noticed Josh standing there donning gloves and holding a mop.

“Josh,” he simply answered, keeping his eye on the kid as he walked into the newly cleaned kitchen.

“Ah, the new suit,” he replied, throwing his backpack carelessly onto the ground before opening the fridge. He turned his head to look at Josh, his eyes moving from the top of his head down to the red fuzzy slippers he wore. “Why are you all sweaty, then?” he asked.

“I went on a run,” Josh half-mindedly answered. He couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable—not because the man was scrutinizing him, but because he was keeping the fridge door open for too long.

“Huh. Cool,” was all the guy replied before turning his attention back in front of him. Josh continued to mop while occasionally glancing at him—the boy might seem at home, but he couldn’t be too sure if he was a trespasser or one of the two other housemates he had yet to meet.

“Dustin?” The two simultaneously looked to the couch where Daniel had sat up. He groggily scratched at the back of his head—making his hair look more like the mop that Josh was using—as he frowned at the young man apparently named Dustin. “Did you just come in?”

Dustin, who was holding a beignet—from the box that Josh had bought—muttered, “s**t,” like a guilty man caught in the act. He popped the entire thing inside his mouth, shut the fridge, then hurriedly grabbed his backpack and made a beeline to the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Daniel asked with an authoritative tone—his voice deeper than usual, having had just woken up.

Dustin stopped at the foot of the stairs and haughtily replied, “Up to my room. Where else, old man?”

“You didn’t come home last night,” Daniel pointed out. “Don’t you have a class today? Where were you?”

Josh kept his head down as he continued mopping with small movements, feeling like he was witnessing something he shouldn’t be as the newcomer so he should at least try not to listen.

“I don’t need to answer that. You’re not my dad,” Dustin scoffed.

“I’m not old enough to be uncle Richard, stupid,” Daniel bit back, “and if he were here, he’d tell you to stop gallivanting around and focus on your studies, not stay out until the morning.”

“Stop acting like you’re my brother. You’re not.”

Daniel stood up from the couch with his hands on his hips. “I’m close enough!” he argued.

“Second cousin barely counts, you drunkard,” Dustin groaned as he turned around. He was just about to take a step up when the front door opened once more. This time, a man who Josh could only describe as conflictingly scary and gorgeous walked in. He had brown hair neatly brushed and moussed back, a strong jaw, and shoulders like a footballer under the expensive-looking shirt that he had on; but his eyes were lidded and his face was expressionless, making him look like he was either about to fall asleep or punch someone in the face. If Josh wasn’t mistaken, then this must be the last of the housemates—the person called Wells.

“Oh ho ho, another one coming home early in the morning,” Daniel judgingly shook his head at the man, clearly without fear. “Do none of you appreciate your beds at home anymore?”

Dustin rolled his eyes but Wells didn’t even bother to reply nor look at Daniel. He simply walked straight to the stairs without even glancing at Josh, before stopping in front of Dustin who was in his way. It was just then that Josh noticed that the two were apparently of the same height, only Wells had seemed taller than everyone due to the intimidating vibe he was giving off.

“Long night?” Dustin teasingly smiled as he stepped to the side, but the man just walked past him then disappeared into the second floor.

“You've got to stop messing with Wells,” Daniel sighed at his younger cousin, but Dustin seemed to be in a defiant mood. Instead of replying, he simply snickered and turned to Josh to pretend to whisper, “He's just scared because Wells is part of the mafia.”

“The what?” Josh asked, unsure if he heard him correctly, but Dustin only smirked at him then headed up the stairs without answering. Josh turned to Daniel with a confused and slightly panicked expression on his face. “The what, now?” he repeated.

“Don’t believe that kid,” Daniel dismissively waved a hand as he walked to the kitchen. It was faint, but Josh heard him mutter, “No one actually knows if he’s a mobster.”