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Rated: 13+ · Serial · Friendship · #1726294
Jared remembers how he met Gnat. Strong language.
Jared and Gnat crashed in through the front door of their squat, clutching a few syringes. The stifling air hit them both like a brick wall, and Gnat spluttered. It was that kind of air that you would feel when sat in a car with the windows up on a midsummer noon. Jared the weasel was often grouchy after paying for the merchandise, but he always took solitude in knowing he was taking it for Gnat, too. Gnat was like a brother to him. They had met when Jared was in university. Oh how long ago it seemed!

Jared was a different man back then. You almost wouldn’t recognise him with his rich, brown fur on, as well as wearing that smile that seldom graced his face these days. He was settling into his dorm after a long, cross-county trip. Sure, he could have easily gone to one of the local universities back in Lancashire, but Manchester appealed to him because it was a contrast to his fairly sheltered life back home. The city seemed to breathe and pulse with all manner of people. You could wear what you wanted and nobody would care; it’s just a day in the life. It was a rich, vibrant city of diversity and colour. Anything could happen, and everything would happen.

His dorm room was a humble bedsit, with a double bed, wardrobe and portable TV, but it would do him just fine. It was the freedom that he had yearned after for so long that excited him. On Saturday nights he could go out and find an underground club and come back when he pleased, unlike back home where his Saturday nights consisted of sober composing in a sub-par studio with little money to expand. He had made sure he’d landed a job before term started. It wasn’t much; just waiting-on in a grimy diner, but he didn’t care. It paid the bills and funded his nightlife all the same. Jared had already set up his cassette player… Dated, yes; but it was functional and he preferred it. There is nothing more jagged and solid than a hard demo-tape.

He placed one of his open-reel tapes in the player and hit play. It was one of his favourite bands 16 Volt, with their successful single “Suffering You”. The static from the low-quality tape distorted the sound a little, but it was an orgasm to Jared’s ears.

“Set it off right with a ‘fist fight’ attitude.
Set it off right with a ‘hate you’ discipline!”

It was a fusion of punk and electronic beauty: perfection in Jared’s mind. Everything fell together just right, and the buzzsaw guitars cut through you like a steel blade. Collapsing on his bed, Jared drifted away with the aid of the music. Travelling always took it out of him…

When he woke up the daylight that detested him so much was absent, and gave way to a ragged, pearly-white moon. Any other man could have contently laid there until the dawn, but Jared was eager to sample what this dangerous city had to offer him. He had been for years. Usually, it would take Jared two hours or more to get into his nightlife gear, but he was excited. His stomach was full of butterflies because of the anticipation, so he threw on some torn military cargo pants and a sleeveless shirt and clipped on his black, spiky collar. Nothing in particular was done to his thick, black hair other than him deliberately messing it up. Unable to wait any longer, he flew out the door and trotted down the street. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other students that had the same plan he did, that night, and attracted several stares. Jared glared back and won the staring contest.

After wandering around the city for a while, he heard something emitting a heavy, yet minimalistic; bass beat, arousing his interest. He turned with a feeling of success down a side street and found the source of the noise: a small club with an evidently strict dress code. The clientele mostly wore black, leather clothing with all manner of piercings and makeup. Jared smiled.

He approached the front door and noticed that the club was named “Hydrogen Bar.” Jared chuckled at the reference to a well known industrial band. After brushing shoulders with a surly-looking bouncer, he was greeted by a rather sedated atmosphere. The place was filled with weasels, cruxes and rabbits, and the absence of wolves and foxes was comforting to Jared. It wasn’t late enough for an occupied dance floor, but a DJ was playing some menacing tunes that set an atmosphere of danger. Everyone seemed arrested… They just seemed to sit there, quietly sipping on a drink. “Not too crowded, either,” thought Jared as he scanned the room for somewhere to sit. Most people were in groups, out for the club rather than the music. This disgusted him… Why choose this dank place if you weren’t here for the industrial? Why don’t they just fuck off to a characterless rave where the artists just pile on as many drum machines and synths as they can?

Then, Jared saw him. Over in a corner booth sat Gnat on his lonesome. He was wearing punk boots and MMA gloves with a bandanna, and was drumming his fingers on the table, sometimes stopping to stir his cocktail. His eyes were half-closed, and he seemed to be drinking in the atmosphere rather than the alcohol. Jared was intrigued… Should he approach the rabbit? What would become of him if he offended him? Jared would rather sit on his lonesome, too, but for some reason he was drawn to Gnat. He turned and looked around the room, but the other company he could find looked insufferable. “I can’t just stand here with my dick in my hand,” he thought… “Gah, fuck it!” he said to no-one in particular and approached the rabbit. Gnat noticed him and stared for a long time. It wasn’t quite sizing him up, but rather a prejudgement of character. One would be a fool to assume, but what you see is what you get with Jared and Gnat, so their evaluations were quite apt. Eventually, Gnat spoke in low, friendly growl; “Come and join me.”

“My pleasure,” said Jared, his cunning smile crawling up his cheeks and sat next close to Gnat. There was an instant connection between them both, so this closeness wasn’t awkward to either of the pair. Gnat seemed to be staring idly about the room, as one does when lost in something. His head nodded in rhythm to the dark tunes.

“You like KMFDM?” Asked Jared, in response to the music playing.
“Yeah… It seems like this club was built for them. I would rather listen to it in no other place.”

The chat went on for hours, along with the rounds of vodka. They had a great time discussing the taste of music that they both shared and exhibited their displeasure at where electronic music was going these days. It turned out that they both had a lot in common… After a while the talk died down and they just sat and stared with glazed eyes in contempt for the music the DJ was butchering. Gnat announced he had to leave so they parted ways with a hug and a toast to Industrial music. Jared decided to stay for a while. He didn’t seem to want to end this fantastic night, but he had class tomorrow morning, so he made his way out and onto the street.

It was 3:30 am now and the streets were appropriately quiet. Jared trotted to build up some body heat on this chilly night. He hoped that he would see Gnat again soon, but characters like that are hard to track. It was doubtful that Gnat would frequent the same place, so he sighed. Then, a squeal cut through the night; a scream so sharp that would echo inside your head for days to come. Jared’s heart pounded. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He turned on the spot and saw a figure squirming on the ground in an alleyway. “Shit!” Jared spat and sprinted into the darkness. As he got close to the figure, a look of terror lit up his face, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Gnat?” enquired Jared. Gnat grunted in reception.

Regaining his composure, Jared ran to Gnat’s side and heaved him to his feet. His ribs were wounded, as he held one paw to them and winced, obviously in some pain. Blood ran down his lips from his nose. “What the hell happened?” said a shocked Jared. A groan managed to escape Gnat’s mouth before he could speak. “Got jumped by some thieves. Not I had much to give them anyway, hehe. I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get you home, man.”

“I ain’t got a home.”

Then it became clear to Jared that this respectable man was nothing more than a homeless bum, made a slave to the unforgiving streets of Manchester. He contemplated it in his head for a while.

“Well, you do now.” It was more of an insistence than an offer. Gnat was in no place to refuse, and besides, he could do much worse for company.

After a while, Jared reached his dorm with the rabbit slung over his shoulder. Gnat hobbled to the bed and collapsed underneath the sheets. Jared smiled and climbed into bed with him. For reasons unknown to himself, Jared wrapped an arm around Gnat’s belly and nuzzled his cheek.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, and from that day on, Jared and Gnat were friends.
© Copyright 2010 Jared Weasel (jaredweasel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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