Dead Kennedys shocked Freddy into sensation. Light bled through his rusty lids, as he rubbed the gunk on the back of his hand. He was alone, his apartment even more disheveled than before, his head thumping to the tone of the rapid-paced punk.
“Alexa, turn it off.” He forced out of his locked maw.
As the music stopped abruptly, Freddy took in his environment. There were bottles coating the floor like fresh asphalt, most shattered in millions of little shards readying themselves for their eternal home inside Freddy’s naked foot. The window was open, the city was still; an unusual sight since the moon was gone. Freddy tried standing, but wobbled and fell on the glass. In a stunning turn of luck, none of the shards managed to lodge themselves into Freddy, yet all the same his head spun from the impact. He was still drunk, that much was clear. Eventually, he managed to get to his feet, and stumbled his way to the window. Everything was calm, as birds flew as they had before the moon was gone. Above them was a foreign sphere, standing guard over the earth, the size and shape of the former moon. Despite the calm of the city, the new moon itself was horrifying, with a face like the moon from Majora’s Mask, but sculpted with the skill of a kindergartner with an axe. On the forehead of the new moon was an equally crude rendition of the American flag with only 10 stars, and 3 stripes. Freddy rubbed his eyes again, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Rubbing his eyes, he checked his phone, seeing he had 3,567 notifications, including 296 missed calls, almost all from Ultra Hero. There was no way Freddy was going to sort through these, so he put his phone away, and turned towards his kitchen. In doing so, he stepped on a shard of glass, which shot straight through his foot, causing him to screech, and jump back, falling out his window. Before he had a chance to realize what was happening, he felt a sudden pain in the back of his head, and everything went black.
His eyes clicked open like a ratchet, as he saw a faint light surrounding an otherwise dark street. The new moon still stood in the sky.
“Oh hey buddy, you’re awake!!” Said Jeromy.
“Shut the fuck up Jeromy, lemme sleep.” Freddy said, before clamping his eyes shut.
“Oh sorry man, I’ll keep watch then.”
Freddy opened his eyes again, and shot up from the ground, the pain suddenly apparent over his body.
“What happened, man?” He asked the bubbly Jeromy.
“You were passed out man, I saw you on the street. I was coming by to return your copy of Braveheart.”
“Man what? I never loaned you Braveheart, I’ve never even watched Braveheart.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess it musta been someone else.” Jeromy laughed.
“What the fuck is that—I don’t fucking know, moon?”
“Oh you mean the New Moon! You made that, my good buddy!”
“What? Jesus, dude, what the fuck happened last night?”
“Last night, lemme think. Well, last night I got evicted, which was okay cause the moon and all.”
Freddy rubbed his face, perplexed.
“Okay, how long has the moon been here?”
“I’d say ‘bout a week or so.”
“And I made it?”
“Hell’s yeah you did!!”
“So, how long have I been out?”“I don’t know, prolly like a week or so I guess.”
“I don’t know, prolly like a week or so I guess.”
“And you only noticed now?”
“Nah, I noticed the morning the moon came back, got u that blanky you’re wearing!”
It was then that Freddy noticed he was wearing a large blanket with a smiley face on it.
“Why didn’t you bring me inside or something?”
Jeromy’s face sunk, “oh shit dude...I didn’t thinka that.”
Freddy rubbed his forehead, “how are you so fucking retarded, Jay-Jay?”
“Man, don’t say shit like that, that’s like, ableist.”
Freddy stared at Jeromy, “you mug random bitches for a living, and you give a fuck about ableism?”
“Yeah man, that shit’s fucked up, I got a special needs lil brother.”
“And he’s got a ‘special needs’ older brother, too.”
“Look I’m tryin’ Fred, gimme a break. And you know I hate that I gotta steal.”
“You don’t have to—I’m not getting into this with you Jay-Jay. Lets just go inside and we can talk, its cold as fuck out.”
“That’s why I got you that blanket!”
“I have blankets in my heated apartment too, Jay-Jay.”
“Oh yeah, then yeah if you cool with me coming up.”
Freddy nodded, before walking into the apartment building. The two made their way to the elevator which took them up to the 20th floor. The inside of the elevator smelled like musty library books and moths. Once they reached the 20th, they walked down to apartment number 6: Freddy’s apartment.
“I thought you lived in a penthouse.” Jeromy said.
“I do, fuck you.” Freddy said, as he struggled to get his key into the lock.
“But like, this place doesn’t look like a fancy penthouse or whatever.”
“Fuck off, Jay, I’m letting you into my home, so you better show some god damn respect for your betters.”
Jeromy swore under his breath as he pinched himself, “sorry man, don’t sweat it, we good, we good, place looks awesome.”
“Damn right it looks awesome—you know how much this place costs a month?”
“No, what?” Jeromy asked, absently.
Freddy’s face turned red, “I’m not telling you that shit! You wanna know my social next?”
“No, sorry, sorry, look don’t worry ‘bout it, it looks expensive.”
“Fuck yeah its expensive—expensive as fuck!”
Finally the door opened to his $5,000-dollar-a-month penthouse, the familiar clink of bottles announcing the comforting welcome of home’s embrace.
“Told you this place is nice.” Freddy said, looking around. He supposed it was a little cramped, and maybe $5,000 was a bit of an exaggeration. Truth be told, Freddy didn’t know how much the apartment cost exactly, his father handled the rent.
“Can I sit someplace?” Jeromy asked.
“Yeah, wherever.”
Jeromy looked around, confused.
“Where can I sit?”
Freddy looked around, realizing he didn’t have a couch. He must have thrown it out his window at some point, and didn’t notice.
“Floor looks comfy.” Freddy replied.
“Yeah, cool, thanks man.”
Freddy was suddenly aware of how much his apartment stunk, and in fact, how much he stunk. He hated himself more than anyone else, which was criminal, as someone as perfect as Freddy should love himself. By all his right as a superior being, he should hate everyone but himself, but instead it seemed he was included in his hatred of humanity. Freddy, overcome with his exceptionally meaningful sorrow, fell to the ground.
“You okay, Fred?” Jeromy asked, as he leapt up to Freddy’s side.
“Yeah, yeah. Just contemplating shit.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I’m thinking about shit.”
“Whatcha thinking ‘bout?”
“How much my life fucking sucks.”
Jeromy let a smile appear on his face like a blip on the radar, before he snuffed it back out, as he stuttered, “n-nah man, your life is fucking sick! You’re a super hero!”
Freddy looked at Jeromy. His eyes were warm and sincere, but fearful.
“Grab me something to drink.”
“You got it, Fred!” Jeromy ran to the fridge and grabbed a beer, before handing it to Freddy.
“Why are you even here, man?” Freddy asked.
“We’re buddies! Always gonna be here for my buddy.” Jeromy said.
Freddy rolled his eyes, as he took a swig of beer. “Yeah, buddies,” Freddy looked back over at Jeromy, his eyes big, blue orbs that glinted with a hint of tears, “seems like I’m the one helping you out. Real fucking buddy you are.”
Jeromy’s voice cracked under his burgeoning bout of crying, “S-sorry man, I like, wanna be here for you, I just keep screwing up.”
“Don’t start fucking crying. Grab a beer from my fridge and drink with me.”
“You mean it?!” Jeromy said, his face lighting up.
“Yes; buddies, right? Drink the damn beer.”
“Thanks, Fred! I’ll pay you back, I promise!”
Freddy sighed, before taking another swig.
Jeromy opened his beer, took a sip, before clearing a space on the floor, and setting it down.
“Do you need like, a maid or something?” Jeromy asked.
“I have a maid, she just isn’t here right now.” Freddy scoffed.
“Yeah for sure man. I mean like, do you need a maid right now? I can clean up a bit for you.”
Freddy sighed again, “I ain’t gonna stop you if you clean, but I’m not paying you.”
“Don’t sweat the money man, I wouldn’t dream-a chargin’ you.”
Jeromy jumped up, running towards the kitchen, as he searched. Coming up empty, he ran out towards the bathroom, then soon returned to the living room.
“Hey Fred, where’s your trashbags?”
“Don’t have any.” Freddy said, “uh, maid usually brought them with her.”
“Oh okay. I’ll run to the store, be right back.”
Freddy rolled his eyes, before sitting Jeromy back down, and flying out the window towards the nearby corner store. Bursting in, Freddy grabbed a few boxes of trashbags and a pack of cigarettes, before flying back out into his apartment window.
“Woah, you flew around and shit, nice!!” Jeromy said, before taking another small sip of his beer.
Freddy threw the boxes down, before taking out a cig, lighting it with his finger, and taking it down in one long drag, before spitting the filter on the ground. Before he had a chance to notice, Jeromy had already began cleaning the apartment. Freddy sat back down on the floor, and drank the rest of his beer, before finishing Jeromy’s.
“What did happen the night I made the moon?” Freddy asked Jeromy.
“You made the moon! It was so fucking cool.” Jeromy replied, as he picked up several bottles and threw them in a bag.
“No like, what did I do?”
“You got in a fight with your dad, looked scared, got wasted, flew up and built another moon outta like, chunks of mars or something.”
Freddy stared at Jeromy, perplexed, “Mars? Why the fuck would I make the moon outta mars?”
“Space shit!”
“Yes?”
“Like, space shit makes space shit! That’s what you told me at the time.”
“You were there?”
“Not like, while you made it, cause that woulda killed me, I can’t survive in space like you. You told me before.”
“Okay, fuck. So I fucked up another planet to fix the planet I fucked up?”
Jeromy chuckled, “The moon isn’t a planet, dawg.”
“Yeah it is! What the fuck are you talking about?”
Jeromy pulled out his phone and googled if the moon was a planet, before showing Freddy the results. They said it was not a planet.
“Google don’t mean shit, you know that Jay! You act black, maybe start to learn not to trust authority like the blacks.”
“Jesus, Fred! You seriously can’t say shit like that, that’s racist as fuck.”
“You steal shit for a living, Jay, discussion over. You ain’t got a single fucking leg to stand on.”
Jeromy sighed, as he went back to cleaning.
“I can like, know shit even if I don’t do shit, you know?”
“No, I don’t know, enlighten me.”
“Like, I can like, know that you shouldn’t drive while you’re drunk, right? But like, I can know that while also not having like a driver’s license or something.”
Freddy laughed, “You talk like a re-”
“Don’t talk like that Freddy, I’m serious! ‘Least don’t ‘round me. I got a special needs brother, you know that.”
“Fuck off Jay, your retarded lil brother ain’t here to give a shit, is he?”
Jeromy turned away, his eyes glinting with tears again.
“I still don’t like hearin’ shit like that.”
“And I don’t like hearing you say stupid shit like calling me a racist, so guess we both have problems.” Freddy said.
“Sorry Fred, I won’t say it again.” Jeromy sighed.
“Act like a fucking feminazi and I’m gonna clock you like a feminazi.” Freddy said under his breath, before turning on his Xbox. “Wanna play some Madden?”
“Nah Fred, I’m good.” Jeromy said, barely holding back tears.
“God, grow the fuck up, Jay. Life is way fucking meaner than I am, so quit acting like a little bitch.”
Jeromy wiped his face, “Sorry Fred, I’ll do better.”
“Don’t say sorry, just fucking do better. I don’t give a shit if you’re sorry, I give a shit if you piss me off with your whiny bullshit.”
Jeromy put the bag of bottles on the floor, a couple slipping out and breaking on the floor, causing him to jump back.
“Shit, fuck, sorry, sorry I’ll clean it up, sorry Freddy.”
“Jesus, chill dude! I’m not gonna fucking hit you, I’m not your daddy.”
Jeromy collapsed to the ground, frantically picking up the fragments of bottle, filling the top of the bag back up, before putting another bag on top of it to keep the contents from spilling out.
“Sorry Fred, I didn’t mean to break your shit.”
“You didn’t break my shit, dumb fuck, its just a bottle.”
“Sorry. Look, Fred, I gotta get to the shelter soon, I’m getting tired.”
Freddy scoffed, “lazy fuck! You barely picked up any bottles, the place still looks like shit! At least get the living room looking livable, like Jesus.”
Jeromy wiped his nose, as his voice cracked, “can’t your maid finish.”
“She’s on sabbatical. Just finish the fucking room, I’m going to bed.” Freddy said, before getting up and heading to his room.
“Whatever you say man, I got you. Buddies, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, buddies, whatever, just clean up the fucking bottles.”
“I got you Freddy, I always got you.”