Part 1 Of 3;
He was floating. He felt intangible; unstoppable; bulletproof; and the oddest of all: invulnerable; like a miscreant who eluded penance after a murder, or a teen slithering out past curfew. It was an outer body experience, and had anyone asked him, he would deny any of it had happened. After all, it was Nick. His Nick. The one man who had been his rock for years. Years ago, he'd reached for Joe's small, shaking hands and calmed Joe's entire state of mind, and at the same time, provoked unfamiliar sparks to fly through his body until he was sure the fire had sent him flying through the air. That was it. He was flying. There was no other explanation for his weightless feeling. Was he dreaming? He'd flown before in his dreams. He'd be standing on the edge of a steep cliff, nothing below but a vast ocean and jagged rocks. He'd lift up on the soles of his bare feet, and he'd float right above the water, almost as if strings carried him across. The wind would blow gently into his face, and his clothes always seemed non-existent. The sweet smell of pine and salt covered his senses and lifted him up...up...up. He never looked down, but his one mistake was constant. He'd start wondering just how he was able to fly, and suddenly he was falling, faster and faster until an earth-shattering shiver ran through his spine and awoke him. But this wasn't that dream...he couldn't necessarily see anything besides a white light, endless and almost luminescent. Now, someone was shaking him, and the light was becoming fuzzy, interchanging between black and gray. He opened his eyes, finding himself staring into brown eyes. "Nick..." he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and sex. Nick gave a small smile, almost leering near sad, and reached a timid hand to brush hair out of Joe's eyes. "Sorry...I shouldn't have done that. Go back to bed." Nick stood, grabbing his shirt off a remote corner of the room. He kept his back to Joe, slipping the shirt on easily. Joe could only keep his eyes on Nick. He pulled the bed sheets higher up his body. "Nick?" Nick turned slowly, as if it hurt too much to look at Joe. Their eyes met, unspoken words slipping between them. Do you regret it? Do you wish it was with someone else? Did you mean what you said? Did you say what you meant? Joe gulped, his nerves taking the best of him. "Are you leaving?" Nick scratched his head. "Yeah, I've got some...stuff to take care of." "Oh..." Joe looked away, and then glanced up when he felt Nick walking towards him. He, sat on the bed, and once again, those timid hands reached towards Joe, this time traveling from the soft base of his neck. His fingers circled around to the front of his neck, where a necklace laid right above Joe's heart. Nick leaned forward, his hands grasping at Joe's arms. He placed his head on Joe's chest, and Joe's heart could only race faster. "Nick," he whispered. "Shhh...Don't speak." The response came quietly, followed by the sound of Nick inhaling deeply. He placed a kiss on the locket before lifting it. He kissed the area shielding Joe's heart. Once, twice, three times; each time harder than the next. "Don't forget...okay?" he whispered gently. "Forget what, Nick?" Nick finally lifted his head, giving Joe only a few seconds to glance at his teary eyes. For those few seconds, Joe noticed the way Nick's eyes seemed to crash and bleed water. "I'll see you later. Okay, Joe?" Joe could only nod. Nick turned back once more, giving Joe that same sad smile, and Joe's heart flew up...up...straight into his throat. This goodbye felt almost...final. He felt as though someone had tied his neck shut, preventing him from saying anything meaningful. I like you...I always have... I love you...I always will... I feel like you're leaving me... And a part of me would die if you did... Nick gave a partial wave and Joe could only hope that Nick would return.
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He was falling. He felt transparent; defeated; like a bullet had run through his soul. Rain beat against his skin, one after the other in the loudest imitation of drums. On another day, he might have welcomed the water drops with open arms, but today the rude crystals only added to the depressing atmosphere. His grandmother had once told him that when it rained, God was mourning a death. In a way, this was a death, right? He looked up, his hair covering his eyes. He flipped his head until he could see the dark, cloudless sky above him before continuing walking; his shoes too heavy for his body. But for whatever reason he didn't care; not about his wet shoes, or the soaked clothes that clung to his body. After all...he was 20 years old and roaming the streets like a beggar. Except, unlike a beggar, he didn't know what he wanted, or for that matter, what he needed.
He blinked water out of his eyes. Or maybe they were tears? Whatever they were, they clouded his vision, adding to how lost he felt. Where was he going? Where could he go?
He shook his head. In this case, only one place made sense. He began running, purposely stepping in huge puddles; accepting the shock as punishment for being so trusting. Cold water seeped through his pants and shoes, effortlessly flooding them.
Are you happy now, Nick? Now that you've screwed me over?
He finally arrived at his destination: a small graveyard, tombstones spread strategically through it. He walked, dodging until he reached his second euphoria. He knelt before the tomb, wet soil digging into his fingernails, his clothes, until he felt like they had merged with him. His tears ran faster. Was gravity against him too?
Images flashed through his head like a screenplay: Nick, fighting him over the remote; covering his eyes for a surprise dinner. Nick, shy and bashful, smiling at him, and seconds later, wiping away his tears. Nick, handing him an engraved locket while wearing one of his many stupid plaid shirts. Nick teasing Joe's own striped shirts. Nick, kissing his chest, once twice, three times, each time harder than before. No matter what, everything revolved around Nick. But why? Why the hell couldn't he think of anything else?
He shook his head again, a bitter smile tickling his face. "In the end, I just wasn't enough for you, was I? Maybe I was never good enough..."
Pain struck through his chest. The thoughts kept coming now, unfiltered. All words and voices he'd made himself deaf against.
'You just use people for fun.'
'You disgust me...'
'You don't deserve happiness...'
'You deserve ever bit of misery you'll get in life...'
'Slut...'
'Whore...'
'He deserves better than you...'
'Everyone does...'
His hands flew to his head. "I know! I KNOW!! Stop, please," he shouted. "Get out of my head, please..."
Was it possible to drown from tears? Or misery? Or a mixture of both?
He reached out, his fingers tracing the cool tomb before him. Every letter, every indent...all things he had memorized. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I did it again..." He let out a sob. His chest felt too small, his heart too large, and he was falling. Faster and faster and faster...
"Excuse me," came a voice. Joe jumped, shaken out of his meditation. He turned, finding himself looking up at a boy, an umbrella covering his body.
"Are you alright?" the boy asked.
Joe's eyes widened with confusion, and suddenly he realized the boy's motives. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the boy. "Pick up someone else, pervert!" He whipped around, closing his arms around himself. He wished he could leave. He wanted to change his name, his hair color, and start all over. Disappear to a warm, sunny beach far away. He could spend his days sunbathing, eating coconuts and maybe he'd even try surfing with Nick. Wait...Nick.
"I'm sorry." The voice interrupted his thoughts again, and he turned back, ready to displace his ferocious anger into the stranger. He noticed the boy's small smile, sad and reminiscent of...Nick. Joe gulped, and all his previous anger quickly crumbled.
The stranger looked around, his eyes focusing on an area past Joe's head.
"It's just...I've been in your spot before. My daughter is here," he said softly. He gulped, taking a deep breath. "She was only eight when she left."
He shifted, his eyes drifting to Joe. The small smile reappeared. "She was a pretty thing. Always smiling, always talking--sometimes too much, mind you. Don't know where she got it from." He winked, and Joe found himself smiling slightly. "She loved people. Meeting them, making them smile. When everyone was happy, so was she. Granted, some people tried to take advantage of that...but either way, she was so grateful to just be...alive." The boy choked up, a sob escaping his lips.
Joe's heart thumped, his dried tears resurfacing. "I'm so sorry."
The boy nodded, and Joe straightened his back.
"I'm serious. You must hear that a lot, but trust me; I mean it..."
The boy stared at Joe, looking at him from head to toe, before settling on Joe's eyes. He stared for a beat longer, before answering.
"Call me crazy...but I believe you."
Despite his earlier sorrow, Joe found his lips twitching upwards, a small hint of a smile, and he found himself facing away in order to hide it. "She, sort of, sound like someone I know. Or knew "
The boy cocked his head. "Were you related?"
Joe's smile disappeared. "Not really. But he meant a lot to me. Maybe he still does." They were quiet, the only sound coming from a distance; birds chirping noisily.
"I don't do this often, you know," Joe confessed.
"Do what, exactly."
"This whole 'talking' thing--you know, about feelings and...stuff like that. Especially with strange boys."
The boy burst out laughing, and it sounded like bells to Joe. After a while, he cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I....sit?"
Joe raised his eyebrows. He found himself taking in the boy's features for the first time, and decided the guy couldn't be serious, with his expensive looking suit, and designer glasses nestled neatly over his eyes. His hazel eyes, and his messy, brown curly hair.
Joe looked around the deserted graveyard. The chirping became louder, and he glanced up. Dozens of sparrows flew above him, the purple sky molding with their feathers. Joe crinkled his brow. Just when had it stopped raining? Joe found it too much of a coincidence not to be a sign. He glanced back at the stranger, standing...waiting as though Joe were his lifeline. The thought made him smile, and it was because of this, that Joe found himself nodding.