Another night has fallen upon the town of Sunset Heights. The summer heat beats down on the town and pulls sweat from my body as I sit on the ledge in front of the only large window in my bedroom. It's quiet and no one else seems to be home at the moment. I've had weird dreams lately, so I haven't been able to sleep very well. One in particular where he just disappeared for over a week, then shows up out of nowhere holding roses or something of the sort. The wind outside whistles against the glass. It's both creepy and peaceful.
"It's the upper floor, so I feel closer to the stars in his eyes," I whisper as I look down at a potential message I scribbled on a sheet of white paper. I've written:
Hey, Brandon.
Ever since you showed up, things have been different. I've come to bite my lip more often than not. I was waiting for a feeling to come over me. The same feeling I had when I first saw you. The fleeting feeling of a warmed heart. It won't come again. Not without you being nearby. It's hard to say but I don't think I want to go on alone anymore...
"--Ugh!" The writing scribbles off in random directions effectively scratching out the message before I crumble it up and toss it into an almost-filled open steel trash bin nearby along with all the other failed attempts.
"Who am I kidding?" I whisper and sigh dejectedly. How is he supposed to react to all these heavy feelings? He may not want to see me as things are. I feel selfish for wanting more. This is the ninth try at composing a message that will serve my purpose in letting him know how I really feel. And another failure in my consciousness. The only thing I can come up with to write after gutting all of my messages is another blank page that says only one thing. 'Hey, Brandon.'
I switch my attention to look at the time on my smartphone and scroll through some text messages that Brandon had sent. One, in particular, catches my eye that just read: "I wish I could see you again." This was back when he visited for three consecutive days. I was sure he would get sick of me, but when he left for that final night he sent me the text. It made me feel amazing. I open a blank text message to Brandon. The cursor blinks as I place the phone down beside me.
I get lonely sometimes. And sometimes I think of you. What you're doing. How your work is? How your cat is doing? That you're safe and doing well. Though I probably won't get a message tonight it's always something to look forward to the next day. If one thing is consistent. He never leaves me hanging forever. It's like he will always find a way back to me. I just hope that I can keep him around a little longer this time.
I get distracted by the scene. The clouds give way to slivers of moonlight. I can almost see the open sky if that massive cloud wasn't there. Doubt enters my mind. Images of the last time I received a visit from Brandon enter my mind:
It was supposed to be one of the hottest days on record. Brandon had come up with the idea for us to go to the community swimming pool. He went on to say that he had not gone swimming in years. He even bought new swim shorts just for the occasion. I was excited and he seemed that way as well. Though when he showed up, he looked a bit down or disappointed. And every few minutes was often preoccupied with his phone for a portion of the time.
"Is everything okay? Did you need to go?" I asked with the hopes that he would answer in my favor. Though, I really am concerned about what may be happening. There's just a look in his eyes that I can't figure out. He's always so outgoing and cheerful, but not during the time we set aside at the pool. It could have been that it was a community pool and there were kids and their parents around, so we did lack privacy.
"No Gage, I don't need to go anywhere." Brandon's reluctant smile brings a soft feeling to my chest. A fluttering. It's hard to breathe for a moment but I regain myself. I feel that he isn't telling me something. I just hope that it's nothing bad.
The day went on but seemed to be cut short as I saw Brandon on his phone, repeatedly sending text messages to someone. This was the first time I'd seen him like this. I mean he's an adult and can talk to whoever he wants to but I just can't shake the feeling that he is not sharing something with me. Soon after, we went back to my place and spent a few moments talking to each other. About cars. Tools. A new video game about cats. Family. and then came the pause... The moment of awkward silence that hits when you've run the gamut of topics to exhaustion. My mind raced to find something, anything else to talk about or do before the inevitable would happen.
Brandon rubs his eyes looking tired as he taps on and raises his phone again. He scrolls and checks the time and lets out a sigh. "Well, I think I'm going to go."
I failed. Damn it brain, why can't you think faster? Ugh, okay. Deep breathes. "Alright. Well, thanks for coming over and spending some time with me. Swimming was fun." I said resigning to the moment. There's more I want to say, but I remain quiet. I really don't want to be that needy clinging force or come across as a crushing schoolgirl.
Before leaving, he gave me the tightest hug and kissed me on the forehead. Saying only, "I'll see you later." It's always at those closing moments when I can see the stars in his eyes. As he makes his way out the front door, he turns to me and puts his hand down one of my back pockets as he kisses me on the cheek. I'm pleasantly startled realizing he's giving me something. After he's left and I've secured the door, I pulled the item left in my back jeans pocket by Brandon. "It's just a napkin." But written on it inked black cursive reading:
"Hey Gage, I miss you already." A smile cleaves across my face.
The sound of the wind picks up outside as I catch a glimpse of a large bird rising past the top of the tree line. I pick up the sheet of paper and start writing once more:
The days and especially nights go by slowly as I think about when I get to see you again. I sit at the window gazing at the night sky. Listen to the breeze cutting through the leaves of nearby trees. I wonder again, when can I see the stars in those eyes? To see the innocence and peace of your smile. I consider the time we spent together as a gift... I'm thankful for every moment...
"This is still too heavy." I set the pen and paper down again. "I can't think straight." My phone buzzes as it receives several new messages. "Could it be?" I perk up in hopes that it's you know who. "No, it's from Declan." This is weird because he usually only sends one-word answers. It is after two AM now, so he must be just leaving work at 'Spectacle'. I wonder what's up as I open the first long message:
Hi Gage.
So this may be a little weird. But I needed to get it off my chest. So here it goes. It's been a few months since you moved all the way out here to Sunset Heights. At that time I was just a high school dropout whose father kicked him out for being gay. Mom tried her best but couldn't make my dad come to see the reason. Soon she left too. I haven't seen them since I hit the streets. As you know, I was able to find work at the gay-friendly Spectacle nightclub. I had one good friend left from when I still attended Sunset Heights high school, but Pedro went missing during a string of disappearances last year. RIP Pedro.
Before I can consider a reply, a set of texts arrive in sequence.
For a long time, I was alone. The town grew darker each waking day. I wandered in circles drunk on drinks guys would get me at Spectacle. One night I had gotten drunk and went up to The Eye --that old water tower up in the hills. There was no one there. I believe it was Halloween and the area around Sunset Gardens was quarantined, so naturally, the entrance leading up to The Eye was closed to the general public. But that didn't stop me.
I was sick of it. The loneliness. Everyone I knew either left me or died. And I wanted it all to be gone. I stood atop the water tower alone, my vision glazed over the darkened horizon. All I wanted was a sign. All I needed to do was take a step forward. Open my arms and fall until I wake up from this nightmare.
"Oh my god... Declan."
But as you can see, I couldn't do it. I ended up sitting up there for a while, my feet dangling over the edge of eternity. I ended up crying myself to sleep. I was awoken by the sound of a tall, fit maintenance technician who climbed up the water tower in the early morning. I pulled myself to a seated position. He didn't seem startled and was curious about my presence. He felt safe enough sitting next to me atop the tower. We didn't say anything for a while until he turned to me and said 'It's another morning. New days bring new possibilities and points of view.'
Then it happened. The sun gloriously slipped over the horizon, warming and lighting everything it stretched over. it was a moment. Time. Beauty. Life. The start of a new day. The fact that I was alive to see the beauty in the world dawned on me. He said I could stay as long as I wanted to but I knew somehow that it was time to get back to life.
This was also the same day that we both met, you and I.
"Declan seemed happy and cheerful when we met at the bus stop... I guess you never really know what's going on inside someone's life."
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is...
"What I'm trying to say is..." A flash of heat washes over my body. Several possibilities cross my mind of what it could be and there's one possibility that frightens me the most. Please don't say it.
The final text arrives:
ever since that day, my life has gotten better. Thanks to Stan and everyone at Spectacle, I have a place I can be accepted and call home. And you've given me a much-needed friend and I've come to cherish that. I guess that I just want to say thanks for being my friend and if you ever need me, I'm here for you, ride or die. xoxo Declan.
The message gives me a sense of relief. For a second, I was scared by the concept of someone telling me that they love me. But all that's left now is the feeling that maybe no one does. But his story inspired me. I'll give him a big hug and slip a napkin in his pocket reading 'Ride or Die' tomorrow evening when I see him at Spectacle. This gives me an idea for a message, I grab the pen and sheet of paper to begin again:
"Hey, Brandon..."