Chapter Text
Porchay was sat at the balcony where the VIP section was situated in the club. No, he was in no way 18, but who cares? Being the son of one of the most wealthy businessmen did have its perks. Porchay has exploited his freedom countless times. It didn't matter anymore.
There were rumors about the youngest heir of YT Company. He was a bachelor raised in the spools of his daddy's money. Spoiled rotten to the core with no hope of salvation. There were news, pictures, and whatnot. About what, you ask?
His Rebel Era.
The time when he took girls' outings and disappeared for days, the time when he made it a mission in his life to spend as much money as he could to piss daddy dearest off. He went shopping every day and bought expensive things that he didn't need. He had once bought 16 boxes of shoes, just to never wear them all. It would probably cost you, your life's fortune.
Porchay smirks when he recalls it. 'Good old days they were,' Now he stands leaning on the railing sipping on something that was too blue in color to be healthy.
But then again, alcohol was never supposed to be healthy. He twirls the bitter-sweet drink leisurely, the platinum rings adorning his fingers, glinting in the club lights. He was here for a different occasion than his usual ones.
He was not here to treat girls (not a lie), nor was he here to just waste money (totally a lie). It had come to his attention that his favorite singer, idol, and performer, WIK had a schedule today, here in this club. It was the sole reason he was standing here.
Tacky places like this were not his forte but, oh well. He came here for WIK and he is still here watching his idol prepare for the stage. There was an announcement that Wik was likely to release a new single in two weeks. Apparently, today was its premiere.
Porchay watches as the stage is set, and WIK steps up. The crowd is not as wild as usual but meeting new ones is what leads to recognition. "Hello, I'm WIK, and I'm here to perform for you guys tonight. I hope you all will enjoy it." Straight to the point and no-nonsense.
Porchay had a good taste in people. The first time Porchay had seen WIK, he had been impressed by his attitude. The guy was spot on and cared little for anything else. The same as Porchay himself was. It was easy. So very easy.
The set starts with WIK's latest album, 'Shuttle'. The album was filled with songs so deep and slutty, Porchay had refused to come out of his room for 3 weeks straight.
He couldn't help the buzz of excitement he felt when the first strums of the guitar reverberated in the air.
'She says; Baby, where are you,
I've spent nights without you,
The air gets stuck in my lungs,
when you're not there.'
Porchay grins with excitement, his blood coming alive.
'My heart burns,
Calling for your watery love,
My body aches,
Just to have you drown deep in me'
Porchay is transfixed in the way WIK's fingers pluck over the guitar strings. He has never wanted to be an instrument so badly.
'So, honey come take a swim,
I am wet and full for you to dive,'
Porchay's blood rushes south when the chorus hits.
'I say; eager you are, girl
But I'm not gonna let you go,
Keep you in my arms till sunlight,
I'm not gonna let you flow.'
The crowd starts hooting and whooping and Porchay couldn't care less. He cannot take his eyes off the way, the guitar clings to the singer's toned stomach.
'She said; Baby, when you come,
I'll wait for you by the door,
You'll open the gates of paradise,
Until I'm down on my knees, worshipping the floor.'
Porchay can imagine it. This gorgeous, man, opens the door and comes home to the sight of a lover kneeling on the floor. Mouth open, breathing choked, c*ck dripping with prec*m. Yes, it was a sight indeed.
'I'm like; eager you are, girl
But I ain't letting you up,
You will beg for me to stop
But will never say the word cup'
How kinky, the cup is a safe word. To fill that void with what, Porchay wonders.
'I say; Girl, you better be prepared,
I'm railing till the lips spill the prayers,
Worship it like a holy call,
Cuz I'm a beastly bear.'
Porchay waits in torturous pain for the last verse.
The one that made him see stars, when he heard it, three fingers dipping deep.
'So, baby, come home,
I wait for you, writhing on the floor,
And, I see the holy Wall,
And plunge it, giving it my all.'
Porchay clutches the glass tight, mouth open around a gasp.
What a wonderful picture it paints. Slamming on the walls till they come bleeding with cries. Oh, how he craves.
'Prayers', the song that would make Satan all hot, had a name for the Gods. Porchay cannot hide the shudder that runs down his spine. The crowd cheers and praises. But Porchay can only see the way WIK has been standing in the blazes.
"The next song, that I'm going to sing, is one of my newest singles. It's coming out on 19th September, everyone. Please give it a listen." Then WIK, his absolute slutty and risky, and whore of a boyfriend, looks up straight at him and winks.
'You stand there looking like a dream,
I sit here, admiring the pretty guitar strings.'
Porchay's breath hitches when he recognizes the lyrics. The words he said, when they first met at a club similar to this.
'The lace of your clothes barely hanging on,
I want to clutch it tight and let it be gone.'
'The perfect slicked-back hair makes me sweat,
I want to run my hands through them even soaking wet.'
Porchay is taken back to the time when he had all but torn off the lace from his boyfriend, hands gripping desperately at the strands of black hair that dripped with sweat as he cried and moaned.
'Boy, when you look at me,
Eyes ablaze with a fire that melts,
I want to touch it, I crave it,
I want to savor every tremor I've felt.'
Porchay wants to run downstairs screaming.
'You stand there, in all your glory, looking like you belong there,
I sit here, in all my pathetic trembles, wondering how I will fare.'
'They look at you, a piece of meat among wolves,
I sit here, watching you, a man with a noose.'
'I want to touch it, I crave it,
I want a piece of you,
But my lungs can't take it,
Choking like our rent is due.'
Porchay waits with bated breath, his boyfriend's ghostly touch still squeezing his neck like it was this morning in bed.
'But I startle awake,
Like you were nothing but a Fantasy,
But I still feel the echoes of your love,
Even when I swear chastity.'
-
Porchay jerks awake at the shrill tone of his ringtone. He wakes up with a mane of hair, ruffled and sweaty. He reaches for the alarm by his bedside and curses the universe. He was going to be late for class. He runs around his room, bustling about to get ready for the day.
Porsche comes to take a peek at him at 8. "You ready for your first day?" The younger absently nods his head. They grab an apple for breakfast and speed to school. He makes it to school with a few minutes to spare. Before he goes in, Porsche stops him by holding him back.
"I forgot to ask earlier, but are you okay? You were making noises last night like you were in pain." Porchay feels the phantom touch of lips on his neck. "Of course, Hia. I'm alright. Just a dream," Porchay smiles.
'Like you were nothing but my wild fantasy
Nothing but my wild fantasy
Just my wild fantasy'
-
©Liyana⋇