Marco never went out much these days. The realization that his body was dying became more obvious, and he couldn't really stand doing things that exerted too much energy. And to be totally honest, he couldn't rely on his mind any more. He got confused easily and needed someone with him at all times. If he wanted to put a positive spin on that, Marco would say that at least he wouldn't have to die alone because dying alone seemed like the worst pain imaginable.

Today Marco strolled through the park with Sasha. He held onto her arm as he looked at the trees and felt the warm breeze touch his face. It was something he could be happy about, the fresh air in his lungs and bright sunlight.

"I bet it looks kind of funny. You and me," Marco said.

"Huh? Is it because of me? I can be less weird, but I can't make any promises," Sasha said.

"No. It's just me… Even before I came out and tried to pretend to be straight, I never had a girlfriend. I did take Annie to prom. But this is a new experience."

"Oh… I see. Wait! You took that bitchy Annie to prom? What did she wear? Did she make you wear a matching tux?"

"Yes, and don't call her that. She wore a satin turquoise dress. It was strapless and poofy on the bottom. I think it also had a lot of glitter and sequins. They got all over my tux, which, yes, matched her dress. I had a matching turquoise vest and bowtie."

Sasha giggled so much that she got into a coughing fit. She found the idea of Marco's prom to be the funniest thing ever. It reminded her of her own prom. She didn't have all the friends she had now, so she didn't have much fun. But she imagined if she went to prom with her friends now, she would have had the time of her life. She was jealous that Marco already had those kinds of friendships early on, but it was never hard to see why Marco did.

"I think I would pay to see a picture of that," Sasha said.

"Please don't. It was… kind of embarrassing," Marco said.

"All the more reason to see it."

Marco paced around a fountain and looked at the pigeons gathered around. He thought about prom. Even though it had been a little over five years ago for him, he could remember every detail, how he felt, and the way Annie stormed out on him. So Marco blathered on about his memories, not particularly caring if Sasha was listening to him.

"I didn't do anything with Annie… In case you were wondering. I wanted to try. Just to try. Like in case. But there wasn't any use. I just couldn't, if that makes sense. I did drunk-kiss Reiner that night though. He may have drunk-kissed everyone that night though. He even felt up Bertolt and made out with the prom queen before he got punched in the face by her future girlfriend. It was interesting to say the least," Marco said.

"Sounds like it. It's weird though. Hearing you talk about high school, but you don't say anything about Jean. You guys seem like you've been friends forever- not since college," Sasha said.

"Well… even if we would have met before college, I don't really think the chance was ever there. He was all over the place. He actually went to high school in France. When I met him, he would accidentally speak in French even though he spoke English forever. I didn't mind. His accent was kind of hot to be honest. But it was crazy. We just clicked when we met. I thought it was love. Nothing seemed quite as real as that. I don't know if it really was love. It just felt like it. I don't know. I think you know it when it happens, and that's what I felt. Whatever… I'm still in love. I think that scares Jean. It might be why he hasn't talked to me in a while."

Sasha stopped Marco and pulled him back. She grabbed him by the shoulders and looked up into his arms. She looked so pissed off. Her fingernails dug into Marco's skin. He shrugged her off and tried to ignore her. Marco walked away from Sasha before she tugged at him again.

"Fuck… is he still not talking to you?" Sasha said.

"I mean he is. Just not like he used to. Of course, we don't live together. So that really puts a damper on things. Plus I think he might be busy. He never says… but I think he's like up to something. Besides, you know the dying thing," Marco said.

"Can you stop that? He should be here right now. He's your friend. You know!"

"You shouldn't be so hard on him. He can't handle this kind of stuff. It's not easy."

"Yeah, but he's being a complete asshole to you, and just because he has a hard time with that doesn't mean he can be a complete fuckhead."

"Sasha, you can only let those things bother you if you let them. And right now, it doesn't bother me because I get what Jean is thinking. I mean. I would feel the same way if it was Jean instead of me. And honestly, I just want to make Jean happy. He's the kind of person that has spent so much of his life miserable that it would make me feel better about leaving this place if I can see to it that he's happy in some way."

"Even if that means that he's back with Bertolt?"

"What?"

"Jean hasn't told you… that he's back with Bertolt."

"No… he just told me that he moved out of our old place."

"Yeah, they're together again."

"…I see."

Marco rolled his shoulders back and stared at the ground. Immediately, Sasha knew she was the asshole here. She wanted to take everything back. She wanted to rewind herself- not just to the beginning of this conversation but back to the second she laid eyes on Jean. Then she wouldn't look at him and find herself in total lust with him, and she wouldn't have climbed into his bed or fall in love with the way he ate her food or talked about how Sonic Youth was overrated. That way she wouldn't be so damn jealous of Marco or Bertolt to the point where she felt the need to lash out or resent her friends.

"I'm glad for him," Marco said.

"What?" Sasha said.

"Good for Jean. He always wrote music when he was with Bertolt. Maybe he can write something now."

"Are you serious or are you shitting me?"

"Yeah, when I told you about me wanting Jean to be happy, all this stuff to get Jean's band back together is just me trying get Jean to start writing music. You know that Jean went to grad school because he didn't know what he really want to do or at last that was what he told me. Like he was seriously invested in that band. Then his dad died, and all of a sudden the band stopped playing. Then Jean and Bertolt broke up, and he asked me to go to Europe with him. And… it's hard to say what went on, but Jean was different then. He was just… I don't know. But I know he'll be happy if he starts creating again. I mean. Getting a doctorate certainly has a more secure potential than being in a band… but he'll never be satisfied the same way."

Marco grinned and started to hum something as they started to walk again. He practically skipped, not quite looking like a man about to die or dealing with a difficult friend.

"And that put you in a good mood?" Sasha said.

"Sort of. It honestly was a song that popped in my head that made me happy. It reminded me of Jean. He once played it to me in his car," Marco said.

"The song you're humming?"

Marco nodded and continued to hum.

"The Replacements' 'Unsatisfied'. Jean had this huge Replacements phase in college. We used to sing… er well it was more like yelling… well we would always blast this tap and we wore it out because we kept on rewinding it and playing 'Bastards of Young' and we'd sing that song until we wore our voices out. Yeah… We are the sons of no one. Bastards of young. Those were some good days. I'm glad I had them," Marco said.

"You're so… I don't know. Too good," Sasha said.

"No I'm not… I'm like anyone else. I mean. I'd be lying if I say I hate Bertolt because he's had Jean every time, and I never have. Or that I'm scared about dying because I don't know if I can handle the idea of not existing in any way. I could go on forever about the things that bother me, but I can't do anything about those things. So it's useless to be upset about them. It doesn't make me any better than anyone. In fact, I guess you could say I'm a defeatist. But that helps me handle my problems. And maybe that's wrong of me, but I can't help it."

Marco stuffed his hands back into his pockets and shrugged. He chuckled awkwardly as he walked and kicked rocks across the path.

"Can you promise me some thing Sasha?" Marco said.

"Sure. What is it?" she said.

"When I die, just make sure you're happy. Make sure Jean is happy. I think… life is too awful to go about it miserable. So I want to at least be kind of happy before it all ends."

Sasha stared at Marco until his face started to blur. She felt tears roll down her face even though she never wanted them to be there in the first place. Marco placed a thumb on her cheeks and wiped her tears away. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, stroking her hair.

"I'm not gone yet. So you don't have to cry," Marco said.

"I don't think it works that way," Sasha said.

Marco lightly laughed and pulled away from Sasha. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"Hey, I've got something for you. I think this will make you smile," Marco said.

Marco pulled out an envelope and cassette. He put them in Sasha's hands and folded her fingers over, gently patting on them.

"It's some stuff I like to listen to. You don't have to listen to it. Actually you probably don't have a tape player… But if you do, maybe listen to it after I go, and read that letter then. I made one for Jean too. It's not the same as yours… obviously. But I didn't want you to get upset if you found out that I made one for him too," Marco said.

Sasha looked up and grinned. She shook her head and glanced up at the skies.

"No… that's perfect. He deserves it more than me," Sasha said.

After their walk, Sasha searched for the lone cassette player in the entire area in a thrift store. She went home and plugged the player in. She popped the tape in and pressed play in anticipation. She jumped when the music started playing. First the gentle guitar strumming and then the vocals, his voice. Jean's voice.

Was I in your dreams? I'd like to know.