a tragedy of the past is a look to the future

University was simply a paid vacation, albeit a very expensive one. And a very, very long one.              Young and self-determined in his own path of doing whatever the hell he wanted, Hector was currently tasting the dissonant sweetness of four different wine cooler on some stranger’s lips, hands scrambled in their hair which was rigid with hairspray and smelt of the acrid type of smoke. The kind that your great-great-great grandfather puffed out of an ancient wooden pipe. Disgusting.                With lightly glazed over eyes, Hector glanced up at the ceiling, watching the shitty lights cling onto the tailcoats of shadows and how the silhouettes of dancing students created a myriad of shapes, like a puppet show. He found himself laughing, the bubble of giggles tickling at his insides and creeping out his mouth, uncontrollable like a stream from a waterfall.             The girl, with her sticky hair and saccharine lips frowned at him. “Err, you alright?”             “Mmmmh, I’m fine,” Hector enunciated the words out, felt them roll around his mouth as if they were cotton balls. He reached down and patted her head. “You know, your hair’s kinda gross like this? Like not soft. At all. Here…feel mine.”             Taken aback, the girl let her hand run through the tresses of dark locks of Hector’s hair, and yeah, it was hella soft but her pride stole the frontlines and curbed the need to voice out that fact and instead, she scowled. “You’re a bit of a prissy bitch.”             “A drunk prissy b***h,” another voice cut in, impossibly bored and sharp like a teacher scolding that one bad boy in class. And whatever. Hector did not mind being that, as long as he got so high tonight that he would fall asleep on a bed in heaven, thank you very much.              “Nana!!”              Nanase, one of Hector’s friends frowned at the nickname and though his face was twisted into utter disgust when Hector clambered his long limbs all over him, practically hanging off him even though he was taller like he was the coat to Nanase the rack, he looked at the girl with as much pity his expressionless face could muster.             “As you can see, he’s not in his right mind. It’s addled with white powder and piss. Really quite sad considering it’s only five minutes past twelve and the party started at half eleven.”              The pout that creased Hector’s lips was practised but soft, and augmented the boyish charm that was hidden by black tattoos and piercings and the smell of smoke on his fingers. He was inebriated, sure. One hundred percent factual, his inability to walk in a straight line was irrefutable evidence enough. But his mind was not right? Unright? There was fuzz like static gnawing at Hector’s verbiage and he just shrugged to himself when he couldn’t think of the word because straight-laced thoughts were for virgins as his seniors used to say.              He just wrapped both arms around Nanase and only stopped when he stepped on the other’s foot in his endeavour to get as close to him as possible. “Parties are only as young as the night is old, man.”              “Alright, Proust. You’re going home.”             “Only if you tuck me in, daddy.”              That was enough for the stranger to leave with her not-so-soft hair and bubble gum lips and Hector was momentarily wistful at the prospect of an intimate night tonight having failed before he attempted to right himself beside Nanase, continuing to hold onto him but using his own two feet to stand this time, because he was an adult and could do things all by himself.              The sight of a blue dress pinged familiarity in his brain. “Ah! Where’s Mina? MIIIIIIN!!”             “Shut the hell up!” Nanase yelled quietly, slapping Hector on the back. “Do you have any idea how annoying you are right now?”             Coherence was a thing of the past as Hector blinked blankly at him. “Probs a mean of a seven.” And when Nanase seemed even more infuriated, Hector just laughed. “I hava brain. Don’t worry, man. But like, where’s Min? I haven’t see her at allllllll-“             As swift and sly as a fox, Nanase slapped a hand over Hector’s mouth. “She said she had to go to the bathroom. Wanted to find one that didn’t have a line of coke on the toilet seat.”             “Relatably impossible.”             Then Nanase was huffing a litany of profanities which would normally never leave his lips save for the bane of his existence, Hector- and Min when she decided to hop on Hector’s bandwagon, which happened nine times out of ten so basically, Nanase could not even take a lunch break. He had never been one for the social life that University came with, and only ventured out to appease his friends because quite frankly, the mix of sweat and scents made him a little sick.  But, Hector- he thrived on it. Drank in the perfumed atmosphere like it was heaven’s personal nectar, breathed in the differing pheromones of everyone’s skin and danced in and out of bodies to bathe himself in a myriad of aromas so that his own had dispersed into them.  The three friends were alphas with a natural smell that turned heads before either even walked into the room, so it was no wonder Hector liked to party in a room full of people. Because then, he could mould into the background and be just like everyone else.  He was tail-coating Nanase while the room spun and twirled, casting ribbons of his reality into things of intangibility that Hector could not quite get a firm grasp on just yet, and somewhere deep in his sober mind, he reminded himself to thank Nanase for putting up with him yet again. Or not. He would understand either way.  “I feel kinda-“ A wave of nausea caused Hector to halt his words, feet almost falling over each other as he was dragged by Nanase’s hand. “I’mgonnathrowup—” But the emetophobic Nanase gave a little shriek at the words, a sound so uncharacteristic of him that Hector would have laughed tears at on any other given state or day, but, well, the churn in his stomach was gradually crawling up to an opening and he was tasting bile at the back of his throat when the slap of the chill air from the world tickled at his exposed skin, and Hector stopped and stared at the open, unblinking sky, bottomless and black and ever present around him like a perpetual hug.  “Stay here.” Hector distantly heard Nanase saying, muffled and bereft and that was fine because right now, Hector felt as though he was floating and detached and then oh s**t- he was vomiting all over his Balenciaga’s like a free running waterfall, guts emptying out absolutely everything. It was liberating, really. Throwing up his lungs on the deserted streets of the city, a block shy away from the dorms and under the pretty night sky but it was kind of cold and Hector could feel the chill on his naked skin, felt the oncoming pull of chattering teeth and mindlessly wondered what he was doing here, alone.  Taking a seat next to vomit seemed like the most appropriate thing to do, like Hector was taking ownership of it, shouting to the world, “yeah, that’s mine. This came out of me.” It was a sign of gratitude for sobering him up, at least enough for him to form intelligible thoughts.  The first month into senior year was smooth-running, like hot butter on a skillet and Hector was a glutton for it and delved into party after party after party, which made it not that much different from his previous years to be perfectly honest. He liked to mingle, sue him. And the loom of responsibilities and inheritance was something he choose to be jaded towards, which was why he hadn’t been back home for four years- had opted to either say in his apartment or crash at either Nanase or Min’s place when their families would allow it.  Hector did not hate his family, he couldn’t. His dad was his dad and his sister was his sister. He loved them (totally surface-value), sure, because you loved your family, that’s what they taught you. He was a potent alpha born from a family teeming with them, and he had to fit the part. He had to fit in. But the freedom of being thousands of miles away from home was something that he held onto with both hands, let it show in the form of tattoos and piercings and casual s*x. Like this, Hector was free and he still didn’t want to let go.  Call him a child, and immature, that’s fine since that’s exactly what he wanted to be.  He blinked as he took in his surroundings, hands sliding across his hips to dish out his phone which was already dead, and had been because his charger broke last week and Nanase forget his at his own place and he had yet to buy a new one so he was stuck there, waiting for a friend who did not say how long he was going to be and kind of cold- god what if he gets frostbite? Could he get it in this weather?  “Are you okay?” It did not hit him instantly, strangely enough.  It came wafting in small doses, like baby waves crashing on a shore, guided by a low wind power, softly edged by the palpable hands of fate that suddenly reached out to him, wrapped fingers around Hector’s shins to tug him back, keep him grounded. Keep him still, keep him there. His eyes were narrowed in on the form in front of him, slender and lithe and dainty in the way their cardigan slipped off their shoulders, two sizes too big for them as if it did not even belong to them in the first place. Wisps of platinum hair danced in their eyes, white lashes batting against them as they stared at Hector, a considerably feet away but enough for Hector to see the red chill of the evening on their cheeks, streetlights illuminating them so they looked as if they dropped down from heaven’s door right there and then.  Oh.  “Umm…” Their voice was muffled into the scarf that wrapped around their neck, dimmed in volume so Hector had to listen very, very carefully in order to hear them. “Is everything alright? Do- do you want me to call someone for you?”  His voice was a soft murmur amongst a loud, cacophonic crowd, a tease of something that you would doubt seeing because Hector could have blinked too fast and the guy would have disappeared, wouldn’t have even existed in the first place.  “Uhhh…” Words scrambled and twisted around Hector’s tongue, swallowed up by the fact that the alcohol was still a heavy presence in his mind, addling his senses to a lesser quality of normal functionality. He cleared his throat, not quite realising that the man did not make any movement towards him, maintaining a moderate distance away but keeping a watchful eye on him. “I umm- you smell really good.”   The reaction was quick and cut-throat, and not quite what Hector was expecting.  The stranger’s eyes widened through the windswept curtain of his fringe, feet tripping over each other as he took a few cautionary steps back, hand slapping at the back of his neck as if in reprimand of himself. He was startled, an animal on guard, wary and acknowledging the existence of a predator right in front of them and Hector, who was not himself, leaned forwards out of intrigue.  “And you smell like vomit.” Ah.  Shit.  “I do,” agreed Hector dumbly, eyes running along the ground to catch the sight of throw-up next to him and his nose scrunched up as if he could smell it for the first time before turning back to the guy, who quite frankly looked as if he was ready to run away the second Hector blinked for a moment too long. “Not all the time though, I promise. It was just one of those night, ya know?” “No, I don’t.”  Okay, this was not going Hector’s way. He opted on chewing on his bottom lip, catching on the ring of metal that made its home there, heard the clink clink of it as it danced out of tune against his teeth as he smiled sheepishly at the man. “I’m not being very…enchanting, am I?” The answer to his question did not come as the stranger with his moonlight hair, stole another tentative step away, clearly done with whatever encounter this had soured into, and Hector, completely sobered up by now, just coughed into the awkward silence, the air stale and curt and stuffy in his chest, clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin despite the cool weather.  “I, uh. I won’t keep you?”  It was phrased as a question and when the implication of a farewell hung in the air, the stranger startled as if bought out of a daydream, a trance of some sort that kept him there and a breath whistled out of his full-lipped mouth before he rushed over his feet to leave, shoes scratching cacophony against the asphalt. Hector watched the pretty stranger go, caught in a daze himself before the fact hit him a few moments later.  The man must have been waiting for permission to leave.  Hector, in his inebriated-addled mind must have been using the dominance of an alpha to keep him there, for the little omega he was, had no choice but to listen, to follow, to adhere to the needs of his superior. It was something that left a bitter taste in Hector’s mouth, a flavour he never really accustomed to despite his upbringing of being conditioned to follow the second-gender hierarchy.  Alpha at the top, beta forever stuck in the middle and omegas always at the bottom.  That was just how it was.  And Hector just lived in it.  Before he could delve into revelation after revelation because being half-drunk and alone on a night like this did that, the back door to the door trudged open and a heeled, curvy woman stepped out, shrieking at the cold and then outright screaming murder when she saw the remnants of the evening that Hector left on the floor.  “Oh my god!! You’re so f*****g gross, Hector!” “Min, you’re a banshee right now and I need you at a mouse,” Hector groaned, hands coming up to nurse the comings of a migraine. “I think I have more alcohol in me than like blood.” Min scoffed. “Nah, man. You yakked out all that s**t on the floor already. Hah. No wonder Nana looked like he was ready to faint and piss himself at the same time. You’re so cruel to him. Remember? He’s got that elmettalobiathingy?” “Dude came to a frat party on a Saturday night. What else did he expect?”  Pursing her red painted lips at her best friend, Min shrugged before walking over him, taking careful caution to not step on the throw up. “Still. Feel kinda bad for bribing him. He looked so sad.” A little laugh, one of fondness sang through the quiet of the night. “Whatever. Let’s take him to a bookshop tomorrow, the little one in the city. He loves that dingy place.” “Ahhh, hope that cutie is working tomorrow then!” Hector deadpanned, “you don’t even remember her name.” Min flicked her manicured nails at his forehead. “I’ll learn it by tomorrow.” “Mhmmm, just take me home. Please.” The short trudge to his apartment complex was a much-needed session of abstinence for the both of them as they welcomed the cool air on their naked skin, hair flying everywhere and streetlights blooming bright balls of yellow on the concrete. Hector was watching the ground with unnatural interest when he caught sight of a piece of stark-white gum, freshly spat out there and he was reminded of moonlight hair.  “Oh, did I tell you? I saw an angel today.” “…that’s it. No more coke for you.” “Miiiiiin!”     ***   The three of them made for a formidable group. They were tall and pretty and wore their wealth on their bodies, invited a chasm in the street crowds as they walked and talked amongst themselves, absent-minded of their aura of pure, elite alphas because whatever, they were just there to have fun and kill the rest of the weekend away.              “Imma buy some coffee first,” Hector yawned into his face mask and cap even though it was midday and the bustle of the city was as alive as normal and ever. “You guys want anything?”             Nanase’s eyes were already glued to some paperbacks on display, all prim and proper as he always was. “Mnn. The usual, please.”             “Get mine with soya. I think I’m lactose intolerant,” Min said behind her sunglasses, the hangover having dyed her eyebags into dark prominence. “Soz, Nana, I’m gonna get seats. I need to sit down.”             Hector walked slowly to the adjoining café, glanced to where Min stole a table to lounge at in the upper area and waited his turn in line, idly looking over the menu he had already seen a few hundred times already, but hangovers made him tired and grouchy but a troubled Nanase made him feel worse so. Here he was.              Couch Potato was an indie coffee s***h bookshop that seemed to home a few university students, office workers and the regular caffeine-addicts. Hector did not know if he fell under the first or third category as the creep of fresh coffee beans permeated the air and nauseated him for a second, like the oncoming of a molly high. His fingers tapped the sides of his legs.              “Hi, what would you like to order?”             Maybe it was the fact that he had not had caffeine yet or maybe it was because he was intoxicated last night that Hector did not take full notice from the initial start of the conversation, his brain’s gears creaking against the will to work under pressure as the words of his order began to spill out.              “…three shots of espresso and—oh.”             Oh.              Okay.             “You’re the guy. From last night.”             And there was no mistaking that. Not when the soft curls of his white hair littered his neck from exposure, tucked behind one ear as if from out of habit and the steady gaze of his eyes, like something of a tease, something that was a touch shy, a half-unsaid sentence.                          “I’m the, ummm…the guy who smelt like vomit? Remember?”             The words were a slight scramble dancing around Hector’s tongue, for he admitted, it was a little shameless to proclaim, but there was a sort of desperation that lined his mind, an urgency he could not exactly put a name to. Perhaps it did not even exist just yet, a feeling, a sense that was immature in its growth, felt too less to have been able to be given the chance to grow. He could feel the tickle of his alpha reaching out for the stranger, that instinct that Hector hated so much, could never want to understand, burning with animation, screaming its consciousness in his ears.              I am here. I have always been here. I will never leave you.              Damn. What that all it was? Hector shook his head to himself slightly.             “Uh, actually. Forget about it-“             “I remember.” His voice was not quiet, but soft in its tenor, malleable around the edges and wrapped around Hector’s ears like a charmed snake.              The lack of reactionary response from Hector caused the barista to sheepishly till in the total of his coffees, feeding into the awkward silence as if was starved for a week or two. But it wasn’t as if Hector had lost all intrigue know that he had realised that his alphan genes reacted to this man, it was something else. Something that he could separate.             “Eason. Eason. Huh.”             A freckle of pink dusted the guy’s cheeks, his dark eyes darting to the side as his hand slightly trembled above the register. “Uh, sorry?”             Hector was pulled out of his daydream, and gave a little amiable laugh when the feelings of doubt seemed to disappear as soon as they appeared, like the barista’s voice was an anchor to reality for him or something. “Ahh, your nametag. Pretty name.”             Eason looked at him then, eyes like dusty diamonds as they peered through the fringe of hair that was just cut a touch too shy to stay behind his ear like he probably wanted it to. Hector could have reached out and brushed it back for him, show him a little tenderness in the advances of getting to know him. Or something. The alpha blood in him thrummed with something alive and hot, like an awakening of sorts, a feeling Hector had never known, never come across before.              “Thank you,” Eason said after a second too long, eyes looking past him as if Hector was not even there. “Your total is sixteen-forty.”             Hector was ready to open his mouth to spill out a few objections to the turn of the conversation when Min appeared at his side, her shoulder knocking into his chest from the lack of proximity she put between them. They had known each other for so long it was as if personal space had been lost throughout the years.              “What’s taking so long, man?”              Hector startled at his friend’s sudden appearance. “A-ah! Not now-“             “Nothing. Your order will be ready in a few moments and my colleague will call you over for it.” Eason smiled as if it was second nature to the movement of his lips, one so polite and prim that it had to be unreal. “Next?”             The outright dismissal of his presence had Hector blanching for a second too long so that Min had to quite literally drag him out and towards their table, plant him down in a chair and browse idly on her phone while he gathered his bearings. He laid his hands out on the table, like twin starfishes.                   “That was the angel.”             Min barely even glanced up from her phone as she answered him with a nonchalant, “what?”             But Hector was drumming his fingers on the table wood now, energy pumping his blood every which way and giving a sort of incentive to see whatever this could be through. If it was even a thing to be seen.              “From last night. I told you, didn’t I?” Hector was speaking quickly, the way he got when it came to something that brightened the blue in his eyes, like little beads of light that never dared to blink. “It was him. The guy at the counter. God, is this fate or—”             “Wait, wait. Hold up.” Min looked up from her phone then, surveying her friend in a way that was built on bricks of concern. “Fate? What the hell are you talking about, Hector? Are you listening to yourself, right now?”             “Well, I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”             Min rolled her eyes in such an exaggerated fashion, Hector briefly wondered how they did not just simply slip into the concave of her skull. “That’s besides the point. I dunno what sort of pheromones you’re smelling on that guy or what’s his deal but we don’t believe in fate. Remember that?”              Oh. Right.              That got him flashbacking to sour memories that made his bones tremble in simmering blood, made Hector clench his jaw and close his eyes shut tight just so he could fool himself into seeing something else, pretend that whatever happened never did.              He was being irrational. He was letting go of himself. Something Hector never did. Something Hector never dared to. To give into instinct and let go, to release himself into the ebb and flow of destiny, carrying him in the directions under divine discretion. That was not him. It would never become him. He was not to be like that.              But Hector was not…infatuated or anything. He could not be, it was way too soon to proclaim such a statement and yet there was a magnetising pull which had Hector’s eyes glancing over to where Eason probably was, the smell of coffee staining his clothes and fresh, fruity shampoo in his hair. Hah.              Snapping his eyes back to Min, he decided then that it was the alpha acting out for him, that the instinct was tugging him along like he was a puppet to his own supposed desires. Disgusting, really, it was. It made him sick at the ponder.              “f**k me,” Hector groaned, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to wring out the last tethers of whatever kind of attraction that was from his mind. “I’m talking out of my ass right now.”              Min was watching him carefully when she spoke again, “yeah, you are. I hope you realise that. People like that only want one thing.”              Yeah, and did not Hector know it. Look at his family for god’s sake…             They spent the rest of the day lounging about, teasing Nanase for trying to buy out the entire bookshop and watching crappy chick-flicks on Netflix.              Hector was a prime alpha, thoroughbred from a pure line of them. The suitors that have been courting him ever since he presented was a ridiculous amount, especially considering he came from a wealthy, well-off family. He was accustomed to the ways of the world, in the way the gears worked to create the best by this society’s standards. Hector had never known otherwise.              Which was why he could go to bed that day with a light mind free of Eason, or people like him. It was not the first time he had fell for someone based on their pheromones, because as much as he preferred to deny it, the alpha blood that coursed through him sang in the presence of the most, pure and potent ones. Was alive because his alpha was determining his future without his will.              But Hector wanted to be in control of his own life, wanted to handle reigns of his decisions from his own free will and mind. He did not need instinct for that.              He did not want it.