But Davit was not technically from NeverNeverland, Vermont. He was 45 minutes North in a middle-of-nowhere town called St. Albans that was overpopulated with rednecks and creeps. And even if he had been from the infamous Burlington where nobody's personality or lifestyle aged a day, he was officially out of the borders now, far from a place as safe for one's age, and he was fully vulnerable to the internal and external effects of growth, as well as the positive and negative. Clearly, Davit was persuaded far more to the negative side of growing up, and in such a way that he had only grown in his mischievous intentions, not in his maturity. A couple drinks in him sent him over the appropriate edge like a car barreling off a cliff, and his eyes were no longer big enough in size to just write it off as him being cute. He wasn't cute anymore. He was a pro skater, but he wasn't badass anymore. He made the moves, but he wasn't suave anymore, and it became obvious that very night that Davit Abair was a total creep.
After I ditched Davit in the living room that night to fall asleep in my drunken stupor with a man actually worth my time, he reciprocated the ditch and headed to Bunny's room for his and her fills of a good time. The night before our pillow count had decreased from 100 to 99 after Bob cut one up and made it into a mask for our Masquerade Ball. The night Davit spend the night, the pillow count decreased again, because after two seconds of sex with Bunny, he jizzed all over the 98th. On top of that, the weird things to result in Davit's visit to our humble home didn't stop there; they piled up into a long list of bizarre things that were subtly different the morning that followed, things which we didn't quite notice until long after Davit had disappeared. First off, after his little escapade with Bunny, Davit proceeded to completely collapse on top of Bunny for a solid three minutes. Not in a cuddly way, but in a full-throttle passing out kind of way. After that, he consistently went in and out of Bunny's room while she sat in the living room with Jon, a friend of ours that's been staying with us. He would close the door behind him, and this seemed all good and normal, but he repeated this action at least ten times. The next morning, the following changes were noted to our house:
The faux drawer in our bathroom had somehow been removed, although having been perfectly secured the last time anyone noted its presence. A makeup bag that belonged to a friend of Bunny's had been left in a corner after our party, and Bunny was to return it in the coming days. However, she had not touched it or moved it from its place in the corner, and the following morning, it was lying on top of Bunny's dresser with all contents spilled all over the dressertop. Clothing from Bunny's closet that she hadn't worn in ages was strewn all over the floor. All the dresser drawers were opened and obviously rummaged through, and the mess resulting not picked up or tidied in the least. Various piles throughout Bunny's room had been changed in their initial piling and thrown everywhere, and her iPod was missing. At the moment we put all the random and bizarre changes in our household together, it became obvious to my roommates that an incredibly bizarre personality had spent the night in our house, and had his way as victim to his obviously twisted tendencies. But it was different to me. To them, Davit had been a stranger, but to me, he had been a long since visited essence from my childhood, and now I found myself wishing I had only met Davit that night like Bunny and Bob had. I had to deal with the comparison of these two massively different personalities now. There was no apparent reason to stop at the possibility that Bunny's collection of underwear may have decreased in quantity because of little Davit Abair finding me in a city three thousand miles away from Neverland and plaguing us with his sketchiness. It was an undeniable fact that the same little Davit Abair with the big brown eyes and the raspy voice, the badass little boy from my deepest childhood, was officially one of the biggest creeps in San Francisco.