DORIAN STARES AND STARES, AT the reflection standing right in front of him in all its inner panic and subtle vainglory but deep within it, and within he himself is that desperate cry for help. Call it a whimper, mighty be an dissatisfied murmur; but as long as it is loud enough for willing ears, it will be his saving grace.

Oh, and yes, he is scared out of his mind because for not once or twice in his lifetime, he is going on a serious date with someone actually he feels something for. Something? Scratch that; Dorian feels everything for Giovanni!

Late or rushed, corny or not, he basically thinks of him at least in each passing hour. "What Giovanni is doing at the moment?" Is he at the chemo clinic? What did he have for breakfast? What fight did he get into with his parents this time? The genre of the first five songs on his Spotify's 'Discover Weekly' playlist.

One thought led to another and he somehow dialled Gio's number. After a few rings, the call goes through.

"Hello?" Gio's voice is brighter than the glaring morning sun outside his window.

"Gio? What's got you so hyper? I never knew you were a morning person." Dorian shoulders the phone to his ears, his hands busy making his bed.

"Hell no," replies Gio defensively.

"Huh-uh."

"But I'm a Dorian person."

Dorian stifles a laugh. "You thought you ate that."

"Didn't I? And why the call out of the blue when we are like meeting in thirty minutes time? Sus."

Dorian frowns. "So what? I can't decide to speak to my boyfriend when I please?" Gio, typical killjoy.

"No no, I just meant..." There is a long meaningful pause, even Dorian can feel its substance. "... I can't believe we're at the point where we call each other the b-word without a second thought."

"You mean, boyfriend?" At the sound of this word, Mercy who has walked into the room, packing dirty laundry perks up and gazes intrusively at him like trying to fish out who the word is for. She probably knows who it is already though but she just happens to live and breathe gossip.

"Yeah..."

Dorian wishes he can see his face right now. Is he twiddling his fingers anxiously? Is he drawing circles on the floor with his long ass legs? Is he staring at his phone with heart emojis floating out of his ears?

Gio takes it upon himself to end the call. "Meet you at the park, okay? Dory. In ten minutes. Don't be late."

Dorian raises his brows. "Okay daddy?"

The other boy then hangs up and the line goes flat.

"Who is the lucky girl?" says Mercy who stands in an akimbo, her apron wrapping her small frame like sushi.

"None of your business, ma," replies Dorian with a bit of snark. Until she stops being delusional, trying to convince herself her son can't be queer, nothing is ever going to connect her with Dorian.

"Oh come on, don't be like that..." Mercy drops the broom and wraps her arms around Dorian. "You know mummy loves you."

Dorian can't seem to suppress the tenth eyeroll for the day. "It's the audacity lying to my face."

"What do you mean?" Oh, how he can see the fake hurt clear as day. "I'm your mother, Dorian."

"And I'm the president of the United States," Dorians spits, before grabbing his fanny pack and storming out of the room before he unleashes a tempest. That's the last thing he wants to do right now because he must be as stable and pretty and presentable to Giovanni as possible.

Does he feel cheap, finished, pathetic, weak? Not when Giovanni Price is in the equation. He has fallen like the walls of Jericho and the debris used to mould something beautiful, something he can fall back on and reflect how his discombobulated his life has been these past few months.

"Are you listening? Dorian?"

The faint tenor wakes Dorian from the brief reverie and he turns to see Giovanni Price in all his glory, smiling at his face, looking like a million suns, a ice cream cone in hand and Dorian's face is the other hand.

Dorian can swear his heart skipped not one, two, three beats but critical enough to collapse in that moment.

"I love you."

Gio's smile doesn't falter. If anything, it grows wider. So wide that when he can't stretch it further than that, he slams his lips into Dorian's. Vanilla and chocolate flavors clash but in a good way.

How did Gio learn to kiss so good? Chills run through Dorian's body and it is not because of his own ice cream falling off the cone and on his feet.

This happens for almost a minute before decency snaps Dorian awake. Gio obviously has no restraints and will barely give a fuck about even stripping right on that spot and ramming into each other.

Dorian places his hand on Gio's flat, bony chest and pushes him lightly. "Okay, easy tiger. Take it damn easy."

Gio lets out a complaining groan but backs off nonetheless. "You're going to be the death of me, Dorian Ayuba." Biting his lower lip, Gio lowers his towering frame.

The shorter boy watches as the blonde fishes a napkin from his pocket and wipes the ice cream from his foot. "There. At least you're going to stain yourself, it should be in my car or those public toilets or backstage or in the woods or..."

"Okay okay, that's enough weirdo," Dorian shuts him down. Hooking his arm with his, they pace down the park, searching for the perfect ride or snack or anything interesting at all.

"You love this weirdo, don't you?"

"Ha, you wish." Dorian whacks his head with the stick of his corndog. "I only love my cat, Scooby."

"Then what was with the confession you belted out some seconds ago?" Gio smirks, eyeing him in a challenging way. In more ways than one, Dorian is the alpha of this relationship so it is fun as hell to trigger his masculinity.

"That was in the thrill of the moment, mind you."

"Thrill alright." Gio shakes his head comically.

"What? Studies reveal adrenaline makes you say the wrong things at the wrong times."

"I think you've got that backwards sweetie. And you see, I'm not complaining."

Dorian whacks him once again with the stick. "Then what exactly are you doing? What do you profit from tormenting me?"

"A rise out of you is just what I need. You're just so cute when you're mad," Gio smiles sweetly, bringing his face closer to Dorian's.

"Ugh, what now?" Dorian is starting to get irritated as Gio steals a very swift kiss. What's up with this boy being so lovey-dovey all of a sudden? Something smells fishy and it's not Scarlett's pussy.

"Nothing." Gio shrugs, before bouncing to the Ferris wheel stand.

Dorian stands there for a while in thought. He immediately curses himself for being so pessimistic. This is why he never has good things. But nobody can blame him, his whole life has always based on disequilibrium.

One good thing will always lead to ten awful occurrences in later times. The million dollar question is if this good thing is worth holding onto? Will it overshadow the tears he dreads so much to shed?

He looks at Dorian who beckons eagerly at him to hop into a cell on the ginormous wheel.

Zeroing his mind to enjoy these last few moments to the fullest, Dorian takes a step just as giant as the Ferris wheel itself and enters the cell.

A few cranking sounds is what it took before they are lifted up and can smell the clouds.

The city sprawls right in front of them; tiny lights like a swarm of fireflies but this time, even one speck is an atomic bomb. Everyone in their personal spaces, maybe not protected from the terrors within but pushing on and on as life pulls them.

The late autumn breeze sweeps their faces and the orange sun shines on Gio's especially. Dorian can see it now. The scaling and paling, like sand tracks in the Sahara.

"Dorian. I won't be around for long."

Of course, Dorian won't cop a chill on this matter. Anything but this matter. "Uh-oh, there you go again. Looking for yet another dumbass reason to unalive yourself. Well, newsflash, you're not going anywhere and I'll be damned--"

"Stage three," Gio simply says, before turning his teary eyes to meet Dorian's. They aren't as bright as they used to be but a dying cerulean.

Dorian chokes on this new information. His body shakes and he leans on his thighs for support. His vision blurs but he struggles to fix it back into place.

"Be fucking for real," Dorian pleads but Gio just replies with a now straight face.

"Chemo stopped working, marrow transplant wasn't viable anymore and I'm going to bear the end."

++++++++

Coming soon, ttyl guys