Vince and Sasha: A Novella

Isn't it just precious the way Vince Carter and Sinead O'Connor Sasha Pavlovic have been bickering like an old married couple over the last two weeks? They may fight, but they are crushing on each other so hard. I think they deserve a catchy little nickname like Brangelina and Filliam H. Muffman. I'm going with Vinsha.

Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Only one can go on, leaving the other to return to his dank gray industrial city with thoughts of lost romance and what could have been tumbling through his head. Witness as Vince and Sasha dance atop the deck of their own sinking ship.

Chapter One: LUST
Sasha throws down in reverse, speaking the only language Vince's heart knows: Dunk. Each is batting flirtatious eyes at the other, but their membership in rival gangs keep them apart. Burgeoning love rumbles beneath the surface.

Chapter Two: GUY LOVE
Playful flirtation leads to petting, as it inevitably does. A fist pound with longing eyes here, an overly affectionate man hug there. It's cute and it's sweet like young puppy love always is. They share a notebook together where they share their innermost secrets, including the ickiness of girls and what they're going to wear tomorrow.


Chapter Three: CONSUMMATION
There's no turning back now. Though they promise each other nothing will change, human nature dictates otherwise.








Chapter Four: CONFUSION
Their first fight. It's silly and pointless in the grand scheme of things, but don't tell them that. This is crippling trauma that neither is prepared to handle. Every word is scrutinized to the point of mental and physical exhaustion. The ties that bind are beginning to weaken.

Chapter Five: THE BREAK-UP
Words are exchanged that neither truly means. Even as Sasha packs his belongings and leaves the apartment, signifying the finality of the situation, childish verbal barbs are traded. Sasha wants Vince to give him back his black T-shirt.

Chapter Six: THE AFTERMATH
Heartache. Soul searching. "What have I done?" Each will move on with this charade they call moving on, but deep down they know what they had and, even moreso, what they lost.