It was on summer vacation of my 16th birthday, back in the end of the 90th's, the one I was spending in my Grandma's house in Jacksonville with my adoptive parents, that I, Arthur Kirkland, first met him. Tall, sea-blue eyes, blond; not the blond I once had before dyeing my hair a teal-green color. No, his blond was a gold, shiny blond. He was exactly the kind of boy that all the girls instantly fell for. A jerk if you'd mind asking me. Alfred was his name. He seemed to be the type of guy who had everything he'd want. He liked pop music and reading comics; I liked punk rock and playing bass (sometimes I read some English Literature, though this was a secret I kept from everyone; a punk reading Literature? What kind of sad joke would that be?). Fact was that we had absolutely NOTHING in common.

How did I know all that? Well, when you are stuck in a town when hardly anything happens, you start to listen to gossips. This Alfred Golden Boy was the shit, coming hot and steaming straight from Texas or some place as dry and obnoxious as that. That summer would suck, I thought.

But, one day, at Ocean Avenue, he sat by my side while I smoked my cigarette and sipped my beer. I barely looked up at him; still he talked to me.

"You shouldn't be smokin' nor drinkin'" that pissed the fuck out of me

"What?" I said, with all the bitter I could put in my voice

"I mean, you're too youn'!"

"So what? Fuck off" and I glared at the stars while I breathed out the smoke; why couldn't I be like the stars, so free, untouchable and unreachable? No, I had to be stuck with this asshole on Earth!

"You're Brit" he 'smartly' point out.

"Yeah, is that a crime?" He really knew how to kill a conversation, had I had been interested once, which I hadn't.

"Nah" he quiet down and I got up "Where you're goin'?" he asked me, holding my wrist. I tried to release it, but he was too strong

"I'm going away, let me go"

"I'm Alfred" he began, ignoring me completely. "And you?" I pushed my hand, but his grip was way too strong. Alfred was determined not to let me go, and that was clear.

"Arthur" I said unwillingly. The time I told him my name, I regretted it. Why didn't I just lied and gave him a fake name? I'm such a stupid brat sometimes it hurts.

"Nice name" he commented. "I liked the hair, by the way" he smiled at me, and let go of my hand. I didn't move, just stared at him.

"Yeah" I said. We stayed quiet for some minutes, and he just patted the spot next to him in the pavement, as a sign for me to sit down again. I did, just like a puppy. No, I wasn't charmed by him, I'm not some stupid whore; I just decided to give the boy a chance, and ridicule him later perhaps. But I never did it.

We chatted about silly things for hours, just like old friends. Even though our tastes differed hugely, we still had so much to talk about! It was… Absurd!

He told me that, just like me, he was in the Jacksonville to spend vacation, and afterwards he'd go back to Texas. It saddened be a bit, but I'd also come back to England right after a couple weeks, so I think it couldn't be helped – a separation, that is.

We talked the whole night long; and the other night too; and the next, and all the following nights until we had to come back to our homes. I remember the blush he had in his face whenever I caught him looking at me while we talked, and how my heart always skipped a beat when I did so.

But we didn't stop talking. The night before we had to come to our homes, he gave me his phone number, e-mail and address.

"That's for you" he said, handing me a rolled piece of paper, with a ring to prevent it to open. I was going to give the ring back, but he said "It's for you too. You know, bro thing" and he blushed. I didn't know why, but he did, and I found myself thinking it was cute.

Time zone sucks, and I discovered it the worst way. Whenever I wanted to talk to Alfred, was it from the call we had once in a month or by e-mail, I had to wait five hours to get a proper answer or call. We sometimes sent letters, but it was much too slow. Still, we made it through for about one year after we first met.

I didn't go to as many parties as I used to, only to stay up all night exchanging e-mails with him. It made me happy talking to him, and I remember feeling apprehensive every time before we started a new conversation. My heart kept on skipping beats whenever I got an e-mail, and I would smile like a freak to the monitor.

It didn't take long until I found myself labeling him as my 'best bro', as he would say. We chatted about every single thing, like how many meals we had or serious stuff, like how their parents were fighting all the time, or college, worries, etc.

But then, when I had just turned 17, I got the best party ever. In this party, I started dating Amy. Of course the first one I needed to tell was Alfred. It was the last time I heard from him.

I tried sending out one or two e-mails, and a letter, but nothing. Two months later, my life turned upside down. Mom died, Dad went to a Rehab center because he was drinking way too much, and I moved to the US to live with my grandma. I barely remembered Alfred after this all.

All those happenings didn't help me out much. I was still the rebel punk, my hair changed to pink, purple, black, green, blue, and back to teal in the meantime. I didn't own a girl anymore, but a lot of them. To be honest, even some guys, too

My Grandma's house was near the beach, and I liked to walk there at night, every single day. It helped me stress out, and think straight.

Do I need to say who I end up meeting? Maybe it was fate that brought us together in the same place again? I don't know. But we met.

He was walking along with his brunette, small, delicate, almost china-made girlfriend. I was tipsy, and was hanging with a baby-blue haired girl I met at some party.

I pretended I didn't even know him, but by the look in his eyes I could tell he very well remembered me. His sea-blue eyes were even darker because of the twilight shadow, but it shone bright as he looked into mine leaf-dark-green eyes. His cheeks reddened when he met my gaze, and looked down. I bet he was ashamed by the fact that he was the one who stopped responding my e-mails. I shrugged. He was past, and past's better stay behind us. That was my psychology. I felt his gaze in my back after we passed through each other, but I didn't look back.

As always, on the very next day I went to a walk on the beach. I kicked some stones while walking, sometimes facing up when I forgot them. It was a clear night, and there were plenty stars in the sky.

"Uh… Hey." A hesitant voice called out, a tad too low; still I knew it was calling for me. I looked at the blond silhouette sitting in one rock at my left side, a few steps away. Of course I knew him; and of course I pretend otherwise. Putting on the most cynical face I could, I looked him in the eyes, question in my eyes. "Arthur?" he asked, shyly as I, supposedly, didn't recognize him.

"Yeah? Who are you?" Thanks Mom and Dad for making me able to lie this well.

"Oh, so you don't remember…" He looked down, scratching the back of his neck. "It's me, Alfred." He then said when I made no sound for a minute.

"Alfred? Alfred… Alfred Who?" I mumbled, holding my chin as if I was going through a hard time remembering who he was.

"Jones. Alfred Jones; you know, the one from Ocean Avenue…" his eyes shone with suddenly hope, and I was ready to carry on with my show. All his answers just kept on helping me.

"Oh! Yeah, I used to know someone with this name. But he suddenly stopped all kind of contact we had. I thought he was dead?" it sounded too melodramatic, I know, but what did you expect? He disappeared when my entire world was crumbling down, he deserved it.

He was shocked. Clearly he wasn't expecting for this; but then he lit up smiling "So you do remember me?!" Fuck. He sometimes was smarter than the expected.

"Vaguely" he patted the spot next to him, and I imagined both of us back at Ocean Avenue, almost three years ago, talking silly stuff with no meaning at all, but I just shook my head, and started walking away.

"Wait!" he called out, stumbling at his feet when he got up to chase me. "Arthur, wait!" he hold my wrist, making me stop.

"What?" I looked at him, our gaze locked.

"I'm sorry"

"For what? Disappearing out of the blue? Relax, you're not the only one who did so" I sound like I didn't care, but my mind could only think of Mom, as I felt the need to cry forming in my throat. She wasn't my biological mother, but still I cherished for her. I couldn't care less for Dad, but Mom was a good person.

"I had my motives" Alfred's voice put me out of my trance.

"Oh yeah? I bet they're shit, just like you."

"My parents got a divorce, and you had a girlfriend. You didn't need me, and I had already too many problems of my own" he made it sound like I was the one at fault for us being apart.

"Oh, too many problems it makes me dizzy!" Bitter and sarcasm owned my voice "Let me see… My Mom died, my best friend drifted away, I had to leave my girl to come to the fucking USA to live with my grandma, which, by the way, I've just met once before, my Dad went to Rehab. But I guess my problems aren't too big as yours, right? Just asking, though; rhetorical question, of course my problems are shit compared to yours!" I wanted to shout more at him and expose all my problems, and make him feel guilty. But I didn't. It would be all against my principles and beliefs. He let me go, astonished. I turned my back away, walking off of there, but his arms wrapped around me and I felt his breath in my ear as he whispered:

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm sorry I ran away; I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But I love you…"

"What?"

"I love you since we met, and I've been loving you ever since. Not even a single day I didn't think of you. But you had a girl, and we were far apart, I couldn't handle it! I didn't know all of what you've been through, and I'm so, so sorry, but I love you!"

I was completely speechless. I mean, yes, I had some affairs with boys after I came to the US, but to think that Alfred felt this way about me? That was surely unpredictable. Still, I felt that deep inside of me, something fell into place. I never thought about it before, but now that he told me this, maybe I've always liked him this way. Well, that explained all the blushes and fast heart beatings whenever I talked to him, and why his disappearance pissed me off so damn much.

As I didn't say a thing, he turned me to face him, his eyes with a strange glow. I could see in his glasses some starts reflecting, making his eyes look just like the night sky.

Kindly, he caressed my cheeks, and bend in to kiss me. Our lips touched lightly, a shy peck. Alfred was afraid of my reaction, and I could feel it; so I didn't react.

We stayed like this, looking at each other's eyes for God-knows-how-long until he decided to break the silence.

"Well… I think I should go now"

"Yeah, you should" I said, more by reflex than meaning it. I don't know how it sounded, but he smiled sadly, and that wasn't a good sign "Or maybe you could stay, and talk with me to convince me forgive you" I don't know why I said it, but losing him again wasn't something I wanted. 'Past better stay in the past', I know, but what if Alfred belonged to my future and all I had to do was let his 'mistakes' from the past be forgotten?

We talked there on the beach, the same way we used to when we were younger, but with some bonus. As we finished talking about our sorrows, we talked about silly stuff and love experiences.

He told me how he tried having two or three girlfriends before he accepted that he liked boys – especially 'punk' boys, and he winked at me – and that he had an affair with this Russian boy, shortly after we ceased talking.

"It wasn't love" he said "I just needed to get my mind off of ya. An' make sure I liked boys. Ivan was a nice boy, a little too harsh sometimes… No, I mean, we hadn't… Y'know, we hadn't. But we made out a lot" I laughed at his silly shyness. If only he knew half of what I've done…

I told him superficially about Amy, then I told all the boys and girls I've kissed at one same night, and about the parties where 'nobody owned nobody', and how I made out in the couch with that Frenchman last week.

"I think we met when I moved, me and Francis. I hated him, and I still do, but when you're as high as we were, your body calls louder than hate" I laughed humorlessly, and he just shyly asked:

"Did ya… Fucked?" I burst into laughter. What kind of question was that?

"Jeez Alfred, no!" When I calmed myself out, I continued "It was close, but I was in my senses not to do it. Not with that frog, at least. But I did it with Amy" He just changed topics after that.

We spent half an hour looking the stars while laying down facing upwards when he went back to the previous topic

"So, ya been with boys…" he tried to say it casually, but I knew he was blushing and I didn't even need to see his face to know that.

"… Carry on" I knew what he was trying to say, but I wasn't going to help him out.

"I know ya're not fully, uh… 'Homo', but still, you can be with boys, right?"

"Yeah, I see no problem at it."

"Ok, so… Uh… Do you think that I… You and… I mean, we… Do you, y'know, do you think…" he was stuttering, and it was so cute. I've never been with someone who was that insecure, nor someone who was sober – except for Amy – and it was really funny.

"Do I think…?"

"That, uh…" he reached out for my hand, squeezing it "we could, like, maybe, I dunno, if ya don't mind… Get together?" I smiled at his shy propose, and squeezed back his hand.

"But don't you have a girlfriend?" I said casually, not a bit bothered by this fact.

"Well, I kinda do"

"Kind of?"

"Yeah, uh… We've been together for one week, so it's not serious. And she was only with me to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, so it's not like I like her and all" he shrugged, intertwining our fingers "So, whattya say?"

"About what?" sometimes playing dumb was pretty funny. He sighed, jitters and annoyance mixed.

"Us. Being together; as a couple." He said, and rolled half body to face me instead of the stars. I looked at him, with a grin on my face.

"I don't know" I teased "I'll think about it. I'm still pissed, you know?" And I sat down and turned to face him. His eyes had a little worry in it; I bend over him, kissing him. He kissed me back.

"I'll take that as a yeah" was what he told me when we separated to catch our breaths again, his eyes going back and forth from my eyes to my lips. I nodded. He pushed me gently down, and laid on top of me.

We kissed a lot, and made out a little. When we finished jerking each other off, we grinned like fools and walked on our bare feet submerged on the water, holding hands like two silly girls.

But we were happy. And most importantly: together.

Some months passed by, the most perfect, lovely and happy months I've ever lived. But nothing last forever and why would this be different?

When it began, we would walk almost every night and stay up until the sunrise. It just felt so… Right! Alfred often said how he was a superhero who'd protect me from all evils from now on, and I believed in him. When we were together, life was easy and I didn't think of anything else.

I stopped attending parties, and I only met with him. That's when I noticed I was no good for him. He loved me, ok, but I just wasn't right for him. Me, the fucked up, the wreck inside, the mess. Those 'paranoia' only increased when I got to meet some of his friends. All neat, good boys and girls who looked at me like I was some kind of delinquent – which I kind of was – or alien.

If Alfred was a Hero, I surely was the Villain. Alfred was Batman, I was Joker; even the hair color matched.

That's when I started to go to the parties again, drank like a dog and disappear for weeks. I ignored his calls when I was at home, and never showed up at the beach. So I decided it all had to end.

It was a warm night on the end of July, if I recall right. I called him, and told him to go meet me at the beach; he barely said a word on the phone, just mumbled a 'be right there' before hanging up; within half an hour, we were there facing each other.

"Where have you been?" he asked me, with red eyes. Probably he had spent the last night up.

"Away"

"Yeah, I could see that" he was pissed, and he had all the right to be so.

"Look, Alfred…" I started. I didn't want to finish, though. We were together for so little but it seemed like forever, and the uncertainty that this separation would led me to was awful. But it had to be done. I took in a deep breath, looked him right in the eyes and continued "I think it's for the best for both of us to not see each other anymore."

His annoyance turned to despair. His angry eyes now were shocked.

"…What?" He asked me, weakly.

"We can't be together anymore, Alfred. I'm breaking up with you!" I don't know how my voice sounded. Was it harsh? Was it bitter? I don't really know. I just focused in not letting it show all my unwillingness in pronouncing those words.

"You're kiddin' right? Tell me you're kiddin' Arthur!" He grabbed both my arms, and shook me. His eyes begging me to say this was a joke. I looked down.

"No. This isn't a joke. I mean it."

"So how come you're not lookin' me in da eyes when you say it?" So I looked him firm in the eyes, and said it again:

"We're done, Alfred."

He lowered his head, released me and took a step back.

"May I ask you why?"

"Alfred…"

"Please. If you don't want to stick with me fine, but give me a fuckin' reason!" he shouted, still facing the ground. He wasn't one to cry, so I don't know if he was holding himself back.

"Fine" I sighed. "I can't be with you. You suffocate me, and we are way too different for it to work out. You were born to shine and be a hero. I was born to stay in the shadows, making evil stuff. We're both slowing each other down. We're no match for the other. And I want my friends back, and you are kind of grounding me. These are my motives." All of them a lie, I thought. But he didn't need to know that.

The sea-blue-eyed guy kept in silence for some moments. I was almost running away, afraid of what I'd see or do if I stayed so long when he finally spoke up.

"May I ask you one favor?" That was surprising. He looked at me, and his eyes were determined.

"Uh, sure." I said, uncertain.

"Not tonight."

"What?" I was confused

"I mean, not here, not now. If we have to end, can we at least have this one more night?" That was the most heartbreaking thing I've heard him saying, due to its simplicity and innocence. I was almost taking all things back, but my pride and wishes for a better future for him didn't let me do so. Then I just nodded.

"Yes. Yes, we can." He held me, and we kissed despairingly; lots of kisses that ended up in sex. It wasn't our first time together, but it was the best; we had sex – hot, passionate, meaningful sex. Both of us were exhausted when we finished. He rolled off of me, and held my hand tightly.

"When the night is over, we'll be done, right?" He asked me, his voice cracking due to both the lack of air in his lungs and the pain he surely was feeling because of the eminent separation.

"Yes" I confirmed in the same voice tone.

We didn't say any further. We just held each other close and fell asleep in the beach, pretending the sun would not rise.

But it did. It rose up and tall in the horizon, and we knew there was no coming back. Deep inside I think Alfred knew my real reasons, and maybe he thought the same way I did. We kissed one last kiss goodbye, and went to opposite sides.

I got in my room, tired and sad, broken. I searched in my drawer for one small piece of metal-made round thing – a ring. The ring Alfred had given me when we first met. I held it in between my hands, squeezing it and I cried. I cried like never before, not even when Mom died I cried this much; I cried like a child who had just lost the most important thing in its world. I cried myself to sleep.

10 years have passed since then. I went back to England; I stopped dyeing my hair and graduated in English Language in Oxford. Now, I'm a Professor, and I'm living a good life.

But ever since I left Alfred in that beach, I didn't love anyone, nor did I got married or dated. Sometimes, when the pain is too much to deal with, I hold that ring and cry. When I do it, I always dream about Alfred, and it helps me get by, making believe that he's here with me, holding me tight, kissing me, touching me, whispering in my ear, being my hero.

If I could only find him, I know things would get better for me, for us. But I just know that we'll meet again, soon. I have this feeling. Maybe I'm not the Villain anymore. Maybe I'm the 'lady in distress' now, who needs to be saved from this shallow life-style I've been living by the handsome Hero.

And when I get to see those sea-blue eyes again, I'll drown in them, and let them take me away in their waves, deep into the 'sea'. For now, I just wait, sit and wonder, while making plans to go back to the same beach on Florida where we first met; maybe on summer I'll be sitting at Ocean Avenue and, who knows, maybe lucky or fate will be by my side again?