Due to the fact that I’m gonna leave for one week in Germany in a school trip, I’m gonna post the following chapter soon, before I depart on Wednesday. Enjoy this one and sorry, but nothing much happens here…
Thank you for the lovely comments on my previous chapter and I’d enjoy some feedback ^^
here’s the whole story’s intro! I chose to apply NO WARNINGS!
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The Mod and the Rocker (Chapter 31)
“I see you like it.”
On Monday morning they met again. Alex had called him the previous night. ‘I need to see you!’ and now they were doing breakfast together in the Theater Café, at not such an impressive early time, but Miles still had to go to work later. The rocker was pretty sleepy and his face wasn’t hiding it. Since Monday was his free day he had been used to get up at a time near 11 or 12 o'clock. But as long as it meant seeing the mod, he sprinted out of the bed even at eight in the morning, altho’ he’s been awake for nearly the whole night, the reason always being the mod and their long telephone conversations at midnight.
He observed how the shimmering bracelet tingled from his wrist as Miles was about to add some sugar in his tea. “Course I like it.” He smiled and was in the process in stirring his tea as he took a better look at Alex’s sleepy features. There was a soft glow on his skin, the rings under his eyes more visible and his big round eyes half lidded. But he was smiling with such joy and powerfulness, the gleam in his eyes alluring. “Babe, you’re tired…”
Alex raised his brows on the ‘babe’, but he was really wowed about it. “Yeah, a little… But the coffee is helping.”
He looked how the rocker sipped on his big mug filled with dark coffee, noticing that his lips became a little tonality darker as he pulled the mug away. They were traced with the coffee’s liquid and Miles found himself staring.
“I wanted to tell you something…” The rocker started, looking inside his mug.
“Well…” He cleared his throat. “On Wednesday evening I have a race at Bagot street…”
“Yeah. We rockers do it at times. Little races between each gangs… With a little trophy for the winner…”
The mod frowned. He was suspicious about those kind of games rockers do. And he sincerely detested them, but would feel bad admitting it openly at his favourite rocker now. “What’s the trophy?”
“It can be anything… Even the more trivial thing… at times it’s also a bird…”
Miles was really disgusted altho’ trying hard to not show it with his expression. But an involuntary ‘tsk’ escaped him.
Alex was a little worried. “But don’t worry, it’s not a girl this time!”
Miles snickered and leant against his seat. Strange how the rocker worried that much about Miles being jealous, but he ignored the fact that he had kissed Suki right in front of him. ‘Little treasure’ Miles thought.
“It’s something else… A place! A pub actually, the Rotten Devil.” He took a sip and carried on. “It has always been our place initially but we lost a bet for a football match and now the other gang has it. We’re gonna win it back with that race!”
“And you are driving?”
“Yeah.. well, not driving, racing!”
Miles rolled his eyes but there was a smirk on his lips. “Why exactly you?”
“Well they chose me…” He captured that cocky/self-assured expression again, raising his brows. “I guess I’m pretty good at it…”
Miles chuckled again on that. “Oh come on that’s ridiculous!”
“No! It’s not as ridiculous as it sounds like…” The rocker was visibly a little uneasy, troubled for Miles’ repulsing reaction.
“In my opinion,” the mod stated out, secure and assured. “things like races and that crap are useless and a waste of time. It just.. sucks!” He added the last affirmation by chuckling lightly.
The rocker frowned, his expression angered. “Why the fuck are you going out with me then?! Mh?! If you can’t bare rockers and their stuff then leave me fucking alone!”
He crossed his arms on his chest and leant against his seat, avoiding to stare back at Miles, annoyed and offended, visibly angered.
Miles was afraid he might have insulted the rocker. “No wait.. I didn’t mean it that way, Al.”
“Explain then!” The rocker demanded, his tone aggravated.
“Listen,” he tried to act calm and be clear, not wanting to fight with the rocker for such an idiocy. “I tried to make clear that I do not like that kind of activity… But I have nothing against it! I have nothing against someone who enjoys himself with it! It’s alright! I don’t mind!”
The rocker looked down at his own legs, playing around with his nearly empty cup. “You told me you don’t care…” Both his voice and attitude have calmed down and softened.
“The whole mods and rockers stuff… You said it’s ridiculous and you won’t care about it…”
In Miles’ eyes it seemed as if the boy got sad and hurt again. No. He didn’t want to see him like that. “Hey Al,” he stretched his arms outside the table and reached for the rocker’s hands, holding them. The rocker looked up at his own hands in Miles’. “It’s alright… I accept it… And I don’t care for how you’re different from me… I’m alright with it… I still want you…”
The rocker looked up at Miles now, staring at his eyes. And a little half smirk appeared on his face. “Puppet master… You know how to soften me…”
Miles smiled too. “I’d do everything just to see you happy…”
Alex squeezed Miles’ hands but right at this moment a customer entered the café and they both withdraw their hands back as quick as possible.
They awkwardly repositioned in their seats and cleared their throats. Alex stared at the ground again, rather embarrassed. Miles needed to fix it.
“What were you telling me however about the race, love?”
And again a smile was reappearing on the rocker’s face. “Ehh.. I wanted to ask you… Would you like to come ‘nd see me? Maybe supporting me…”
“Oh!” The mod raised his brows. He liked the idea but it appeared to be rather problematic for him. “God I’d love to but… It’s always the same problem… I’m a mod!”
“You’ll go masqueraded. Just like I did.”
Miles’ eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, why not? I was a mod once. Be a rocker for one evening.”
Miles frowned with insecurity. “I’m not sure, Al… You know there’s your friend called Matt. He recognizes me. And a few of your other friends have seen my face too… I don’t want to risk it!”
“Listen, Jamie won’t probably be there. And I’m gonna talk with Matt… I know what to say to him. No one will doubt anything, Miles. You’re just gonna be an old friend of mine.”
Altho’ he was really unsure and doubtful about it, he liked the idea of trying the rocker’s style.
“Should I wear a leather jacket?”
A playful smirk appeared on the rocker’s face. “Mhh I’d like that…”
“And what else?”
“Sunglasses maybe… tight trousers…”
“Leather or jeans?”
“Leather. It makes you look sexier…”
Miles raised his brows and laughed softly. “Okay I can do that sacrifice…”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I introduce you a little into the rockers’ world. I’ll show you a rocker’s point of view for one night!”
A sincere smile appeared on Miles’ face. He remembered that time when Alex got into a mod’s outfit. It was a tender memory only because of the rocker’s presence. And because he remembered how they regretfully decided to kiss that evening at the tailoring. For the first time.
The rocker sipped on his coffee and the mod observed his lips again.
“I wish I could kiss you now.”
The rocker bit his own lip as he heard Miles saying those words, staring automatically back at the mod’s lips. “Let’s go to the toilet.”
And both got up at the same time, taking a few looks around them before heading to the dark corridor that leaded to the toilets. They entered in one of the WC rooms, locked the door and stood in front of each other.
“Kiss me.” Alex’s voice was soft and Miles put a hand on his cheek, caressing it with his thumb before closing the distance.
Just as Miles had guessed, Alex’s lips tasted of coffee, with still some of the cigarettes’ taste and there was this something else, this savor that only he had. He’d do anything to have the chance to taste them for his whole life, whenever he wants to. He felt himself clinging onto that relishing savour.
Soft, burning kisses were being exchanged. Passionate in a way only forbidden lovers would do. He felt Alex gripping onto his shirt on his chest. There was something desperate about this gesture, as if this’d be their last kiss they could cherish; one of the last kisses they could exchange. They adored it so hopelessly that everytime they had the chance to do it, as much fondness as someone could feel was put to use. With their kisses they used the possibility to love each other to the fullest.
On Tuesday at lunch break, Miles went to buy the perfect clothes items to transform himself into a rocker. Just the day before, he did a little night routine around the town, passing by shops and boutiques to find out where they sell clothes directed to a more rocker-ish direction; a bad-boy/badass style.
In a leather boutique he found an appealing and to his taste directed leather jacket. It was actually a motorcyclists’ shop, even the shop assistant looked like a rider. And he gained a few frowns from all the customers around him as he entered the shop.
He chose a slim and smooth one however, without big accessories such as large collars and lapels or big pockets and zips. It was as simple as possible and more directed into his kind of fashion. For the item underneath the jacket he should have chosen something like a simple t-shirt or just a plain colored shirt. He chose a cheetah print button-down shirt. And a pair of black leather trousers was also added. For his shoes, he refused to choose any kind of large and robust boots but chose the secretly-always-admired Wincklepickers. He wasn’t the perfect rocker example, but he got close. There was something more fashionable in his aspect. He just couldn’t avoid to look classy; he was chic by nature. His hair was worrying him a little; the mop haircut was extremely rare to be seen on a rocker. But he wasn’t going to do anything against it, he adored his current haircut too much.
Ruffling his fringe a little and putting on some dark shades, he was in front of his mirror on a Wednesday evening, getting ready to be a rocker. A little smirk appeared on his face as he observed his reflection, turning around to look how the clothes fitted perfectly in every angle of his body. He found himself liking it; there was something wild but sharp in wearing similar clothes. He felt like a bad boy.
He was ready as he stepped down the stairs in his corridor, just when his mother caught him.
“What are you wearing this time!?” It was rather an affirmation than a question.
Miles directed her a quizzical stare. “What’s wrong with it? Am I not allowed to dress how I’d like to?”
His mother eyed him suspiciously, looking him up and down with a repelled smirk on her face. “It’s not how you usually dress, Miles. Looks like you’ve been influenced by someone.”
Miles was already at the door but he stopped as he heard his mother’s words. “And who do you think it should be now?!”
“You dress similar to this one new friend of yours… This one boy dressed like a biker.”
Shit. “Yeah.. And?”
Miles turned around and looked at her. She didn’t say anything but her gaze spoke a million words. It seemed as if she knew something she shouldn’t know.
With a snort and a shook of his head Miles left the house adding “be back late.” He didn’t feel like facing something similar now. He probably won’t ever feel like facing it at all.
Miles was passing by all of the rockers; the unfamiliar faces; the strangers. Too many of them were putting his eyes on him; questioning stares were directed towards him. Obviously because he was just a stranger towards them as much as they were being it for him. And maybe also because of his style tending to be a la mode. Apparently he noticed that he spiffed himself up in too an exaggerated way. All those rascals and brats around him seemed rather dirtied and uncured. Apart of their hair-styles, they had a quiff and a pompadour styled cut. Their hairs were practically shining. And then there were those others, having them impressively long, at times also with beards of the same length. Those were the ones that frightened Miles the most. But his dark and circular sunglasses were helping in making his expression turn out less agitated.
Bagot street was a really isolated and distant place from the city center. It was in the middle of a nearly abandoned and not so much in used motorway, with a few just as rotten pubs around it. But nothing more. Miles was wondering where the heck he was and how did it come that he’d never heard of it before. He parked his scooter in a plausible distance, walking his way near the little hill where the race was attended.
He was immersed in the crowd, not sure how to find Alex among all this leather-jackets-wearing bikers. He observed all the people around him, either smoking or sipping on a beer. There was a little ale house a few steps forward and Miles found himself automatically directing himself there, just to calm down the inner agitation he was feeling. And also for trying to act as relaxed and tranquil as possible. Being a mod between rockers was really alarming, even if he was dressed just like them.
As he sipped from the plastic cup he spotted the place where the race was attended. He decided to get closer as he recognized Alex and his ‘Arabella’ on the starting position. The rocker was having a seemingly cheerful conversation with the boy who had his machine placed parallel to Alex’s. His challenger maybe?
He had long blonde and attentively cured and perfectly combed hair with a goatee of the same colour. Wearing black circular sunglasses and a worn lather jacket with written 'ZACKERY’ in his back, he was a real rocker. Altho’ being his challenger it seemed as if Alex had a good relationship with this guy. They just teased around a little but in a way friends would do. He was wondering if they were taking it all serious after all; seemed as if it was just some free time activity for the laughs. But as amusing as it may be, it was without any doubts dangerous.
He observed the road Alex and this other rocker were going to race: they had to drive on a road leading straight forward for a pretty long time before the curves appeared. Then they had to pass underneath a bridge before riding up to some deadly ramps that were frightening Miles a little. And then the whole road back to the start. Miles was worried for Alex. What if he might crash?
He decided to stay on the little hill without coming any closer. After the race he’s going to greet his… ehm lover? Intimate friend? Friend with little benefits? Something close to a fuck buddy? But the discussion about having or not an emotional attachment for the rocker must still be discussed.
He looked how the two racers got in position. A tall girl wearing shorts and black high heels was doing the semaphore with two race flags. Every single rocker was having their eyes fixed on the two bikers on the starting position, cheering and waiting for the competition to start. Miles noticed how Alex turned his head around, searching with his eyes through the crowd. He was searching after someone; probably hoping to spot Miles somehow. The rocker wanted so badly to have Miles supporting him. He wasn’t sure if he had arrived after all and he told himself to not feel disappointed about it, but he was.
Miles wished he could somehow let the rocker now about his presence but he would gain too much attention from the other rockers if he did. He just sat and watched how Alex was straddling his motorcycle, next to his challenger. He swore under his breath cause the rocker had no helmet. He was already too worried for the race. He was worried for Alex.
End chapter 31/?
- HEEY I found a 50s vintage pic that looks right how I imagined the Theater Café to be, here it is (x).
- Bagot Street is invented, and it’s the rocker’s race place.
- Miles’ leather jacket (x), (x)
- Miles’ circular sunglasses (x)
- And yeah, I decided to give Zackery a little part in this story, (he’s AM’s photographer.) (x), (x)
Chapter 32 coming soon!