it ends tonight `brendon

[johnny von matterhorn]

Johnny Von Matterhorn had eaten a lot for his lunch on a particular Saturday, he’d eaten very much, but not too much that he’d go puking around. He intentionally ate a lot, for he was going to drink this evening and this was his way of holding his liquor. Who didn’t drink these days? He was going to pull some really insane shit tonight; he’d gone to the convenience store to get a lot of toilet paper, some quick gum, and oil that makes you slip on it. He was going to make his mark in the island, let the whole fucking island know he was here. It was around thirty minutes to six when he woke up from a three and a half hour nap. He went into the shower as soon as he woke up and for about forty five minutes later, he returned from the shower with a towel draped around his waist. He looked at himself in the mirror, messed around with his hair, applied some gel, and then walked to the closet. He wore a black, skinny T-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans and black sneakers.

He looked around for his iPhone, which was supposed to be somewhere among the bed sheets, but it was at the charger. He didn’t remember keeping the phone at the charger, but what the hell. He picked up the phone and sent a text message to one of his friends, Brendon Cohen, who was with him in music class. Like himself, Brendon was an axe man too. Brendon was really shy, who got beat up occasionally. It was time for all that to stop; Johnny would talk Brendon into a few things. He thought of oiling the whole goddamn skating rink, or TP some place. He even thought of sneaking into the Einaki Residence Hall and pull the fire alarm there, but he decided to leave it all to Brendon. Johnny was going to help Brendon get back at those fuckers who bullied him. No one messed with Johnny Von Matterhorn’s friends, no one! This whole thing would instill some courage inside Brendon; he had to get the shyness out of his system.

‘Hey, Brendon,’ the text read, ‘It’s me, Johnny. Meet me across the St. Tropez Bar & Lounge in about half hour. Not as gay as it sounds. Wear something really plain black. Destroy After Reading, Johnny.’

Now he had to think how to get in to the indoor pool, closed by a door that was sealed tight. Johnny wore a black hoodie over his t-shirt, grabbed his backpack from the bed that contained a few tools, two aerosol cans, some firecrackers, a lighter, a slingshot and a pair of binoculars. He didn’t want to risk his iPhone getting dropped in this stunt he was going to pull. He left the phone on the bed and then dug inside one of his bags he’d never unpacked after reaching Ehu Island. He opened the zip of the bag and the bag revealed a pair of two-way radio earpieces lying on a vibrant blue Hawaii shirt. He put the earpiece into his backpack, closed both the bags and threw the bag with the Hawaii shirt underneath the bed. Now that he was locked and loaded, all he had to do was talk Brendon into doing stuff. If Brendon didn’t agree to it, Johnny was going to get all emotional. Either way, Brendon was doing stuff tonight because Johnny said so.

With everything being set and him dressed in all black everything, Johnny moved out of the room and walked down the hallway, sticking close to the walls and being careful not to bump into anyone if they opened the doors suddenly. He was clear; he managed to get out of the building and set out into the cool, black atmosphere of Ehu Island. With his hands tucked into his pockets, the hoodie covering some part of his eyes, and his backpack slinging over his right shoulder, Johnny strode over quickly to the outside of Bouscher Academy. He took the bus to the bar district of Ehu Island which, he observed, was not so far from the school. He looked around the area, sketched a few hiding spots, drew quick conclusions about the st.tropez bar and lounge, a fag bar. A few meters away, a low rise abandoned building stood. The building has its own advantages; there was a back exit to an alley way that lead directly to the streets, and the stairs leading to the terrace was easily accessible, for it was located outside the house. He stood on the sidewalk across the bar, waiting for Brendon.

[brendon cohen]

Brendon was sitting in his dormitory, by himself of course, strumming the fresh strings of his fender strat, plucking each one to check for the exact sound portrayed on his tuner, and when each one was right, he began to play the new song he had written. There was no amp plugged into his black and white beauty, just the clean sound he was strumming. He could spend the rest of his saturday night sitting there in his plaid boxers, playing every song he knew repeated over and over, without a disturbance from anyone.


And that is when he got the text from Johnny. Johnny was a friend of his, one of the few, and they didn't hang out too often, which was a surprise when he read the text. Meet him at the bar district? Wear black? Destroy after reading? There were a million things roaming through Brendon's head, most of them leaving him in complete confusion. He had never participated in an act of vandalism before, and he definately wasn't the kind of guy to do so, but curiosity got the best of him, and he decided to go anyway.


He pulled on his black denim skinny jeans and a black band tee with only the letters "Metallica" written across the bottom in dark red, as well as his black vans. Taking a glance at the clock he saw that it was quarter till, so Brendon decided to take the bus, it would be faster and he wasn't sure why exactly Johnny wanted him there. Brendon sat silently on the bus, and hopped off right in front of the bar, somewhere he had never been. He spotted a hooded figure standing not far away in the shadow, and figured- yep, that was Johnny.


"Whats up?" he asked, walking over and putting his hands into his pockets. "Whats... all that?" he continued, examining Johnny's bag full of assorted objects. He got a bad feeling that Johnny was up to something, and he was about to drag Brendon into it.

[johnny von matterhorn]

Johnny was on the sidewalk, right across from the gay bar called St. Tropez Bar & Lounge. He hoped he looked like a hooded silhouette from inside the bar, kind of like those hooded silhouettes in the Hardy Boys novels. He stood far from the street light as he waited for his partner in crime for today, and from today. Johnny leaned against the wall of a random brick building, cautiously keeping an eye on the people entering and exiting the bar. He examined the layout of the bar from outside; it was shaped almost like a warehouse, the entrance was only much smaller and a gay bouncer dressed in a black biker guy outfit stood a few yards away from the entrance, smoking cigarettes, pacing back and forth as if he was tensed. This was a tough job, but nothing he couldn’t pull. He was worried about Brendon – can he run fast? Can he climb over fences and stuff?

A guy, probably as the same age as Johnny, walked down the sidewalk a few yards away towards him. He wore a black T-shirt with the word ‘Metallica’ printed on it. Cool, Johnny thought as he recognized one of his favorite bands on a teenager’s T-shirt. Most of the teens these days were into Lady Gaga, Gwen Stefani and all other pop sellouts. The guy also wore a pair of black skinny jeans. Yep, that was Brendon Cohen. Johnny knew Brendon from music class, and they both were axe men. "Whats up?" Brendon asked, walking over and putting his hands into his pockets. "Whats... all that?" he continued, examining Johnny's bag. “So glad you could make it, Brendon,” Johnny said, “Any nickname you go by? How about I call you Don? Is that cool with you? Or how about B-dog? No?” Johnny wasn’t afraid of talking normally in front of his male companions, or in front of people who knew him, or his name. Cutting all the bullshit, Johnny said, “Let’s take a walk.”

Johnny started walking casually, with Brendon right next to him as he walked. A few meters away, a low rise abandoned building stood. The building has its own advantages; there was a back exit to an alley way that lead directly to the streets, and the stairs leading to the terrace was easily accessible, for it was located outside the house. The guys reached the abandoned building, and then worked their way up the stairs and onto the terrace quietly. Johnny set his bag on the terrace floor, knelt beside it and started opening, revealing the contents slowly. He pulled out a pair of two way radio earpieces, a slingshot, a small carton of sleek oil, a thousand strip count wolf pack cracker packet and lastly a lighter. He sprawled out all the contents on the floor, and took a hard look at Brendon. “Tonight, Brendon,” Johnny began, mimicking a silky voice of a sociopath, “We’re going to light up that place. Yes, I said ‘we’. And I am, in no way, homophobic or anything, Brendon, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. From tonight, I’m your Broda. We will do stuff together, have fun and loosen up. Now, unless you have to say something, I will continue briefing you in on your objective and the plan…”

[brendon cohen]

Brendon stared in confusion for a few moments, wonderning exactly what Johnny was up to. Why was he telling him to meet up outside of a gay bar, wearing all black, with no description about what was about to go down? He felt like some sort of criminal, sneaking around in the shadows and hiding in his black clothing. Sure, it's what he often wore, but Brendon didn't want to be mistaken for a bandit of some sort. Even though that's exactly what he was going to be.


Johnny mentioned something about nicknames, but Brendon was too out of his original mindset to pay attention. Don? B-dog? "No, just Brendon. Or Bren, maybe." He had honestly never been called upon by a nickname before, except for his old friends who called him Bren sometimes, or B-den. B-dog sounded like a gangster, and Don sounded like an intelligent name for a foreign student. Neither of them fit him very well. Johnny skipped small talk and began to lead him towards an abandoned building, somewhere he wasn't used to seeing. Brendon wasn't one to explore, and he wasn't very comfortable in the dark anyway. But once they were hidden, Johnny began to take out supplies from his backpack. "What is all of this for?" He asked, even though his question would soon be answered.


"Blow it up? As in, destroy it?" Brendon had never been inside before, but he couldn't imagine doing something like that, and possibly hurting everyone inside. "But why?" He wasn't refusing, but he wasn't sure what to say, or how to react. Or if he could go through with it at all.