An overwhelming feeling washed over Malcolm as he sat, Dominic lingering close in the kitchen. His words echoed loudly in the sink but Malcolm couldnât seem to focus on them. Panic was starting to set in. That was the unique thing about anxiety. You can do something without fear and sure enough, without fail, anxiety resurfaces to remind you of all the things you should be remorseful for. With all the rage beginning to fade, he had barely noticed how bad his hands were shaking. It was pretty reminiscent of his childhood when his hands would tremble without his discretion as he sat idly in class. Heâd always been a quiet, nervous kid. But upon his fatherâs passing, Malcolm recognized this distinct change within himself. His demeanor became fueled by fear, incessantly pleading for apologizes where they were not warranted, crafting scenarios in his head that were beyond irrational. As he sat on the couch with bloodied split knuckles, panic began to flare up within him.Â
With a restless leg beginning to shake, Malcolm avoided eye contact with Dominic. He was afraid to be confronted with the damage heâd done so he simply stared forward at the opposite wall. His leg tap, tap, tapped against the floor, his jeans making a consistent swishing noise against the fabric of the couch. For someone who was so tough only moments ago, the man was certainly beginning to crumble. With Dominic nearing closer, his words become audible. Malcolm truly didnât know what to say as rationality came into play once more. His words floated into the air more like an anvil than a feather, they hit a lot harder than youâd expect. âI-I donât know,â Malcolm managed to choke out. A lump sat in his throat, knowing heâd done wrong, knowing this was blown out of proportion. But there was no taking this back. Things were going to different now and the thought of things changing between them made him shake like a leaf.
You see, it was always hard for Malcolm to make substantial relationship throughout his life. Surely in high school he hung around with the popular crowd, but that didnât necessarily mean he had friends. He attended the parties, lingered in the background in his letterman jacket and was considered one of the jocks. But nobody knew about his father. Nobody knew why he was choosing the fire department over a future playing college for his dream school. Nobody bothered to ask. It wasnât until he lived in LA that he met his first true friend, Daysia. And then after Daysia came Dominic. Their friendship held so much weight to him. They could stay up and talk about their darkest secrets, the Raptors strongest players, their favorite movies or they could say nothing at all. Their friendship was something that Malcolm had never experienced before. Their friendship was a model of what a friendship was supposed to be like. Communicating, studying one anotherâs behavior, just knowing each other to the core. Malcolm was so afraid of losing this. He never thought heâd put himself in a position to jeopardize their friendship but alas here he sat, scared to look himself in the mirror.Â
âIâm just really hurt, D.â Malcolm muttered as he finally rose to his feet. He could feel the ache in his bones beginning to set in. He walked past the other into the kitchen where he fetched himself another beer to replace the one that told the story of tonight atop their carpet. âI just didnât think⊠I didnât know she was capable of doing that. And I just didnât think youââ Finally building up the courage, Malcolm looked up at Dom practically wincing as he caught a glimpse at the others face. âOh my god, D. Iâm so so sorry. I didnât mean â God, Iâm a fucking asshole. Here, let meââ It was clear the Mac was frantic, he could practically feel the nausea eating at his insides. Opening the freezer, he grabbed a bag of frozen peas and took a few steps towards the other. Malcolm also wore damages from this fight but, Dom was more important to him. It took him a moment to realize he shouldnât have been doing this, the damage was already done and he had to deal with that. He held out the bag to Dominic with a heavy swallow. âI-I-I⊠Jesus. I-Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to..â Malcolm repeated, the bag shaking in his grasp.
Dominic let out a dark chuckle at Malcolm's words.Â
Dominic had tried his best to wash the fresh blood from his face and hoped the cold water would help with the inevitable swelling, but based on Malcolm's reaction to his appearance, and it was clear his efforts had been futile. Reaching up, he wiped his face again with the sleeve of his shirt and looked down, crimson blood staining the grey material. Dominic wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the fight, or if he was beaten up so badly that his face was numb, but he didn't feel much other than confusion and betrayal. Dom thought he was doing Malcolm a favour by telling him the truth. And while the idea of an adverse reaction was something he considered, he didn't know Malcolm could put his hands on him, or be holding onto so many other issues beyond that night with Lights.Â
Malcolm and Daysia were already two peas in a pod when he met them. They seemed inseparable and as close as two people could be. But with the stress and confusion of moving to a new city, in a new country, and attending a new school, the idea of anything beyond settling into his new home had been completely forgotten. As a result, Dominic hadn't put much thought into their relationship, as it wasn't his business. So when Malcolm brought up their past, his feelings for Daysia, and how he felt lost in his shadow, Dominic was blindsided. Malcolm shot accusation after accusation, and insult after insult in his direction for seemingly no other reason than to hurt him and fuel his own anger. If it hadn't been for these things, Dominic might have been understanding about the situation with Lights and brushed off his momentary lapse of judgement. But these were things Malcolm had been holding onto for months now and were things that significantly impacted their lives, and he wasn't sure how they'd recover.Â
 Dominic watched through a quickly swelling eye when Malcolm clamoured up from his seat and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the fridge. He didn't have the energy to move, to follow him or hide away in his bedroom. Instead, his feet were planted to the carpeted floor and all he could really do was watch and listen. Malcolm wore battle scars on his face in the form of a bruised eye and a some swelling near his jaw. The sight of it made Dominic feel sick to his stomach, but with the adrenaline fading from his system, he couldn't find the right words to express his remorse. Reaching for the bag of vegetables, he held it in his hand, not bothering to bring it up to his face. "Whatever, Mac. Lets just call it even. I slept with your girl, you bust my lip. We're good," he said gravely after a few seconds. He had no fight left in him to go up against his best friend, nor did he ever want to again. It was safer at this point to just drop it and move on. But that was easier said than done. They both needed time to cool down, figure their own lives and relationships out before things could get back to normal. "I'll get out of your way so you can, I don't know -" Dominic shrugged, his shoulders sore from the sudden burst of activity, "you can invite Lights over or hangout with Day when she gets home from work. But you should probably put something on that before it gets worse," he continued, pointing out his eye. Dominic lifted his arm back up to his face and wiped away some of the blood staining his bruised lips and handed him the bag of peas, thankful for the gesture. "We're good, man. I'm just gonna go. Make sure you walk Frank before he shits himself and ah, maybe shower before Day gets home and freaks out over your face." Dom reached up to pat his best friends shoulder, an act that was meant to be reassuring but given everything going on, he didnât know what it meant.
