So, I'm putting this chapter up a day early because my whole weekend is filled up with plans to visit family. I am so happy that it's finally spring. I was really getting sick of all that snow... As for the next chapter, I will go back to posting on Fridays.
As always, thanks for all the support! :D
Suggested Listening: "Like Eating Glass" - Bloc Party (If you listen to any song that I've suggested so far, definitely make it this one. At the very least, please look up the lyrics. The last verse has so much symbolism in it, and I believe it fits the characters very well.)
Feel It in My Bones
~Like Eating Glass~
The clock read seven thirty AM when my alarm went off on the morning two days after I went to L's. Despite the fact it was an hour and a half earlier than I usually got up for work, I had no trouble getting up and getting ready. I went through the tasks of getting dressed and brushing my teeth as fast as I could manage.
I was a man on a mission.
I tore down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar off of the counter and my keys off the hook without even looking at either of them. Foot out the door and hand resting on the door knob, I was almost home free – until I heard a soft voice speak up behind me and I froze in my tracks.
"My, you're up early. Where are you running off to?"
Almost comically slowly, I turned around.
My mother was sitting at the table, reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose and her long fingers curled around the coffee mug that I vaguely remembered buying her for mother's day a number of years ago. The morning paper was spread out before her, and I noted that she had circled quite a few entries in the classifieds with red pen. I met her eyes nervously, shifting my weight from foot to foot like I might have done when I'd been a little boy and she'd caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
"I'm going to meet someone before work."
She hummed, took a sip of her coffee, and then set the mug on the table.
I fiddled with my keys when I saw her fold her hands; I knew I wouldn't be getting out of this without an explanation.
"Mello? Or," – she raised an eyebrow – "the girlfriend?"
I realized with a pang that I'd never even introduced Wedy to my mother.
"Neither," I mumbled, choosing to look down at the linoleum.
"Well," she said, and I knew just from her tone of voice that she knew I was lying, "don't let me keep you."
Feeling a sense of relief, I turned back to the door. However, I hesitated. I only gave it a moment's thought before deciding hey, what the hell – what's another delay? and I moved across the room in two strides and wrapped my mom up in a hug.
When I pulled back, I saw that a warm smile was gracing her features. "Give Mello my best."
Damn... There was just no fooling her.
I stuck my tongue out at her, and I got an apple grabbed from the fruit bowl on the table thrown at me in response.
"Hey! What happened to not playing with your food and never throwing things in the house?" I exclaimed, catching the apple (my ninja skillz were seriously on a roll lately) and putting it in my bag.
She laughed. "Do as I say, son, not as I do. Either way, you should eat it; you hardly eat anything for breakfast as it is." She made a shooing motion at me with her hands. "Now get out of my hair. Besides, it's bad manners to keep someone waiting."
Shaking my head at my mother's antics, I finally set out into the morning. As I made my way down the sidewalk, I pulled the apple out of my bag and took a large bite out of it.
If only the saying was, "An apple a day, keeps Mello's temper at bay."
'Cause I don't know about needing a doctor today, but I was at least eighty-five percent sure that what I was planning to do wouldn't have such a morbid ending.
I finished the apple and tossed it into a garbage can, turning onto the path that would take me through the park.
Mother knows best, right? It makes no difference, anyway, because I was going to need a lot more than good wishes and a balanced breakfast to succeed today.
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The truth is I was heading into this situation blind. Mello had ignored all attempts at contacting him for the past two days, and I was running out of options. The need to make things right was constantly pressing on my mind like some malignant tumour, and I was finally desperate enough to take matters into my own hands.
If Mello wasn't going to meet me halfway, then I would just have to go to him.
I'd only gathered the guts to go and talk to him face to face the night before, and as a result, I was hardly prepared. Even though I'd stayed up a good three hours more than I should have due to the fact that I couldn't stop possible scenarios from running through my head at a breakneck pace, I was still no closer to knowing what I wanted to say. I didn't even know if he'd let me get a word out.
All the possible things I could say were still running through my head while I walked through the park. I was so tangled up in my thoughts that it took me much longer than I should've to see that the object of my thoughts was running right towards me. We were the only two people in the area at that moment, however, and the sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement was more than enough to catch my attention as he got closer.
At first, I just froze.
Thankfully, he was too absorbed in the music blasting through his earphones to notice me standing in the middle of the path, gawking at him as he jogged round the bend. Despite myself, I took a few moments to take in his appearance: his hair was pulled back in an elastic (a habit he'd picked up in track and field after finding his hair hanging around his face during events unbearable in the midday sun), and everything about his expression read determination and focus. Of course he was wearing all black.
There was only one thing I could think of to do.
I waved my arms frantically over my head and jumped up and down.
I spent maybe a good twenty seconds doing this, feeling like an idiot the entire time. It was only when I decided it was futile and that I should stop that he looked up. He ceased so abruptly and the expression on his face was so blank that it was almost as if he'd just reacted to my sudden appearance, but he hadn't really processed it. It was only the movement of his chest as it rose and fell because of his accelerated breathing that made it impossible to assume that he was a statue.
We stood there and stared at each other.
Suddenly, he reached up and removed the earphones from his ears. Then, with a smirk, he turned around and ran.
I gaped after him, aghast.
All of a sudden, it clicked.
"Mello, you fucker, wait for me!"
I raced after him, forcing my legs into exerting themselves in a way that they hadn't been used in a long time. For once I was glad of my lankiness, because at least my long legs were making up for my lack of athleticism by covering a fair amount of ground. I didn't even care as my muscles protested; the adrenaline was pumping, my heart was racing, and I was going to catch him.
There was no way that I was going to let Mello get away this time.
Granted, Mello was not making it very easy. He literally ran circles around me, going in wide circuits around the park and constantly changing direction. At one point, he even jumped over a bench. Because the path on that side was blocked off by bushes, there was no easy way to follow him. There were only two options: sprout wings to fly over the bench (jumping like Mello wasn't even an option; with my luck, I'd break my neck) or go bushwhacking. I chose the latter, swearing at Mello under my breath the entire time as my shirt got shredded by thorns. Then – just to be a bastard – Mello hopped over the bench again and I fought my way back through. By that point, I was seeing red.
The blond finally sprinted for the creek and the bridge that connected to the path that would lead to his neighbourhood. I followed behind as fast as I could manage. My legs felt like wet noodles and my lungs were screaming bloody murder. When I reached the middle of the bridge, I promptly doubled over and coughed violently.
I stayed like that for a few long moments, my temples pounding. My fingers tightened their hold on my knees as I stared down at the planks that made up the bridge, willing my vision to stop swimming.
Just then, I heard footsteps approaching and suddenly, a small, metal crucifix swung into my view. It glinted in the sunlight, blinding me for a moment.
I looked up.
"Shit, Matty. You really need to stop smoking."
There was Mello, smiling at me as he leaned down to see my face, eyes clear and warm like he was happy to see me – like he hadn't just made me chase him all around about an acre and a half area. And the sad part was I didn't even care.
I smiled weakly and reached out to touch his shoulder. "'Caught you," I wheezed.
He laughed and then offered me a hand.
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
In a weird way, it was just like old times as we walked side by side on the path that led to Mello's place. It wasn't really, though, because neither of us could ignore the way our hands bumped each other as they hung uselessly in between us, seeming to know better than us how much they wanted to connect. Mello was still smiling, but there was a tension in his jaw that mirrored the taut wire that seemed to symbolize our relationship.
I was beginning to wish it would just fucking snap already.
But it won't – I knew that – and so around and around this goddamn bush we go again.
We reached the pond a ways off to the left at the point where the path veered off between the fences that bordered the cul-de-sac, and I just stopped. Mello went a few more steps before noticing that I wasn't following, and he turned back to see what I was doing. I gestured to the pond with a tilt of my head before walking over there and unceremoniously plunking down at the water's edge. A few seconds later, I heard the scrape of his shoes on the rocks and then he sat down on the overhang beside me, letting his legs dangle over the edge.
I smiled to myself as I picked up a smooth pebble and let it go with a flick of my wrist, watching as it skipped across the water five times before dropping into the water with a plunk. The ripples hadn't even settled when I saw another stone fly out towards the water in my peripheral vision. I turned my head to watch its progress.
Six perfect skips.
I smirked and Mello chuckled.
"Do you remember how when we were little I couldn't even do that?" he asked. "You used to make it look so easy, and I would get so mad because I could never do it right."
I looked over at him, only to meet his eyes. He looked away abruptly, casting his steely gaze out over the water. "You got it eventually, though," I murmured.
He snorted. "Yeah, only because I practiced every single morning for a week…" He trailed off for a moment, and I waited patiently for him to continue. "But when I showed you," he said in a lower tone, "you didn't even react. It was like you just expected that I would do it right eventually, and so it was no big deal when I did."
I bumped him with my shoulder, smiling. "Well, yeah. You wouldn't be Mello if you didn't succeed at everything you tried, right?"
"But I didn't," he said, shaking his head. "Not that time. I didn't want to be better than you or show you up. I think… I think I just wanted you to be impressed with me."
Oh.
I felt the tell-tale heat travel up to my face, and I knew that I was blushing. I felt the truth burning at my lips as I stared determinedly down at my lap. Because I was always impressed by him, and I was surprised that after all these years he never noticed the fact that it was written all over my face.
We sat like that for a while, both in silence, as I cycled through the options of what to say next. I kept my eyes glued to the water, even as I felt the weight of his gaze on me. I watched as a frog made its way through the water, remembering how we used to come down to this exact pond when we were kids for the sole purpose of catching frogs to scare Mello's sisters with. The absolute biggest frog I'd ever caught, however, I named Yoshi and I kept it as a pet for about a year until it – well, croaked. Mello had helped me dig the grave which now, a number of years later, resides beneath a weed patch in the corner of my backyard.
Unbidden, a smile rose to my face at the memories of simpler times.
Then, a giant water bug rose from the depths of the water and clamped the frog between its two forelimbs, shattering the illusion. The frog squirmed desperately in its grasp, but it was in vain. Predator and prey slowly sunk beneath the surface until all that was left were a few air bubbles.
I grimaced.
Coughing awkwardly into my hand, I sneaked a peek over at Mello. Seemingly oblivious to the drama I'd just observed, he was looking down at his hands, absentmindedly picking off the last of his black nail polish. There wasn't a trace of haughtiness in his posture, nor was there a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. His eyes weren't two chips of ice, or two flickering flames, or even two bolts of electricity. No – they were the purest shade of blue, as deep as the water we sat above and as bright as the pigment of the sky.
It was strange seeing Mello just be himself.
He seemed very… approachable.
"I'm sorry," I burst out.
Mello's eyes slid over to connect with mine, giving me a long look. I could almost see the barriers rising once more, and I had the distinct feeling that he was sizing me up. If Mello had been truly as feline as his manner suggested, I could imagine that his tail would be lashing right about now and he would be unsheathing his claws.
"For what?" he inquired, his tone cool.
'Like we both didn't know.
"For… For… You know."
He pursed his lips. "I don't believe I do." He crossed his legs and leaned back on his hands, causing his shirt to ride up just the tiniest amount. "So, pray tell, sorry for what? For kissing me in the first place and regretting it, or for liking it too much and regretting that we didn't do more?"
It wasn't a flirtation; it was a concentrated slap. I felt my ears burn in response to the taunt, and I felt the anger that I'd been trying to beat down all the time suddenly rise in me like an ugly, black flood. Somewhere in there, jealousy found its way in as I replayed the events from that night in my mind, and instead of myself and Mello, I saw every slut and whore that had ever boasted about having the chance to knock boots with the blond filling in my place. What did it really matter if he wanted to impress me? He always wanted to impress everybody. I didn't count any more or less.
Well, if Mello was the cat, and I was the dog that he played around with when he got bored of everyone else, I could play the part. I'd show him that the dog could bite when pushed too far.
"What does it matter to you?" I growled. "It's not like you're short on people to fuck. Or maybe you're just mad because you went after someone in a committed relationship, and even your best wasn't enough to get what you wanted."
His face went white as a sheet, and the anger was made sweet by triumph – but it was all too short-lived. As soon as I saw the naked look of shock in his wide eyes, the anger fizzled away to nothing and the jealousy was trumped by shame. If anyone else had caused Mello to look like that, I would have beaten them into a bloody pulp. But what was I supposed to when the person that had wounded him so deeply was me?
"Oh, God, Mells… I'm so –"
However, he was already scrambling to his feet. "So that's what you think of me," he whispered, hair hanging around his face, obscuring his eyes from my view. With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
I jumped up to follow him, afraid that he might run away again and aware that if I didn't stop him now, it could be the end of our friendship.
This whole thing was really not going according to plan.
"Mello, stop!"
To my surprise, he actually did.
I approached him with extreme caution, much like the way someone would try to get near a wounded animal. And just like a wounded animal, he wheeled around to face me, ready to do damage.
"No, you know what, Matt? Fuck you," he spat, giving me a hard shove. I stumbled backwards and watched, stunned, as he advanced on me. "You have no fucking idea what I've been through all these years. Yeah, so people make up shit about me, so what? I had you – or so I thought. But it doesn't matter because they can call me a manwhore, a hoodlum, or a pillow-biting faggot if they want to, but it doesn't change who I am."
My jaw dropped. "Mell–"
"I'm not finished!" he snapped. "And you know what else?" He continued in a low tone, his eyes flashing dangerously, "I never slept with any of those people. I never even dated any of them. They said that, not me. Maybe you should have been a better friend and actually paid attention to that fact before you started running your mouth about things you don't even understand."
"What are you saying?" I finally got in.
The fight left him as suddenly as it came. "Matt, I'm a virgin," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "And," – he leaned in close to my face so that his lips were almost brushing mine – "I'm gay."
He pulled back to examine my startled expression before turning around and exiting the park. I immediately followed him, doing my best to keep the pace so that I could walk beside him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked gently.
He let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, that's a good one. Why do you think?"
I ignored him. "Halle knows, doesn't she?"
"Yes," he muttered with a scowl, "but not because I wanted her to. She figured it out on her own."
"How long has she known?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Since before I did, apparently."
"When was that?"
"When I was fourteen."
We both stopped.
He stared down at his shoes, refusing to meet my eyes. "It was when I was dating what's-her-face… Marcy whatever-her-last-name-is. She got all pissed at me because she said I wasn't spending enough time with her, and when I didn't respond the way she wanted me to, she accused me of being gay." He shrugged. "Of course, I denied it, but secretly I was wondering if maybe she was right. And when I finally admitted it to myself, everything just seemed to make sense."
I stared at him, my heart beating hard against my ribcage. With a sigh, he continued walking. I didn't even think about it; I followed.
Nothing was said for a very long time after that, and I took advantage of the silence to take inventory of my thoughts – at least what was left of them. Mello had, in effect, shot a bullet through my consciousness, and now I was left to find pieces of whatever made sense within the wreckage. I had no idea how I had left the house today believing that I knew what I was doing. Things had seemed to be going alright for a while, and then everything had gone to hell in a hand basket in a span of five minutes. I just didn't know what to do anymore.
And that scared me more than I would like to admit.
Mello sharply came to a halt some time later and it took me a moment to realize it was because we were in front of his house. I didn't really know if I should go inside with him, or just chalk this up to a loss and continue onto work. I didn't have to make that decision, however, because all he did was stand there, looking like he was deep in thought.
I ran a hand through my hair. "Mello, I really have to go to work now, but I want to talk to you again after my shift if that's al–"
"Why her?" he cut in brusquely, appearing to have not even heard me. "Why now?"
"Who?"
"Your girlfriend." A frown spread across his face and he narrowed his eyes at me, looking like he was trying to make a decision about something.
"Wedy? Uh, I don't know… She asked me out, and well I didn't want to –" What? Hurt her feelings? Disappoint her? They sounded like really bad reasons now that I thought about it. "Well, anyways, I just said yes."
"Are you happy with her?"
"I, uh… I – I don't–"
"Just answer the question."
I paused and really thought about it. I swallowed. "No."
He moved towards me then, and I saw in his eyes that he had made his decision. He raised his hands and rested them on my shoulders. Slowly, his hands moved up and pushed my goggles back on my head, before sliding back down so that they were cupping my face. I reacted immediately, almost subconsciously, bringing my hands up to lace my fingers with his. We gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, testing where the boundaries lay. Then, I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes.
We stood there like that for quite some time, neither willing to be the first to move away.
"What would make you happy?" he breathed against my lips.
I shivered, and it wasn't because of the breeze blowing through. "To stay like this," was what I wanted to say, but I knew it wasn't what he meant. He wanted me to make a choice, but the choice wasn't mine to make yet. Not when there was another person involved.
"For things to go back to normal," I answered honestly.
Mello pulled away, just as I'd expected and dreaded – but it had to be done. He turned around quickly, but not fast enough for me to have missed the unshed, angry tears building in his eyes. I watched his retreating form as he hurried up the walkway before disappearing behind the front door, which he took out his frustration on by slamming it so hard, the windows shook. I stared after him, feeling helpless.
"Matt?"
I whipped around at the sound of my name, only to see Mello's mom emerging through the gate to the backyard. By her pitying expression, I knew she'd heard every single word.
I gaped at her, my mouth opening and closing like some big, dumb fish as I tried to formulate words.
She made to step towards me, and I didn't think twice.
I bolted.
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
By some miracle, or maybe just some twisted kind of a joke, I actually made it to work on time. It was just my luck that that seemed to be the only thing that had gone right today.
The first thing that I noticed when I went inside was that only the lights that were on were the ones behind the front desk. Secondly, all of my fellow employees were huddled in a group beside it. As the bell signalled my arrival, everyone turned around and stared at me. Even Justin, the guy who always called in sick, was there; the solemn look on his round, chubby face would have at any other time made me burst out laughing.
As I approached them, I took note of the frown on Linda's face and the way that Near had his hair coiled so tight around his finger.
Oh, crap. What did I do now?
"I'm here," I said. I then pointed at my watch. "See? I'm not late."
No-one said a word. To my surprise, Linda put a hand on my shoulder when I reached the desk and kept it there despite the weird look it prompted from me. I only then saw whom everyone had been gathered around; Touta Matsuda, the owner's son (who was actually the manager, but he always piled all of his responsibilities on Linda), was standing behind the desk, shuffling his weight from foot to foot and pulling at his cheap tie uncomfortably.
"Right!" His voice squeaked on the word, and he cleared his throat, laughing nervously. "Now that everyone's here, I can tell you all the important news."
"This better be good," some tall guy muttered at the other end of the desk. I'd never shared a shift with him (thank God), but apparently we used to go to the same school. Rumour has it that he'd been held back for two years. I could see why; he looked like the type to use his fists rather than his brains.
Matsuda's eyes darted over to him before settling back to the neutral territory of staring at the desk. "Um, well… You see –"
"It's okay, sir, you can tell us," Linda coaxed.
"Okay," he sighed, before hesitating once again. Just when we had all just about had enough, he blurted, "My father has had a stroke."
This set off a flurry of questions from all of us, the most prominent being: "What's going to happen to us?"
"Well, um… That's kind of the part I came here to talk about. This business… this business has been losing profits over the years, and my dad has gone into debt to keep it going. Now that we're facing this crisis, my family has decided to shut it down." He bowed his head. "I'm so sorry, you guys."
Several things happened then: I felt Linda's grip tighten on my shoulder as she let out an exclamation of surprise, Justin burst into tears, the tall guy kicked over a display, and Near – well, Near just stared.
As for me, I simply shrugged Linda off and went right back out the way I came in. On the way past the garbage can, I ripped my over-shirt off and tossed it in.
I kept walking until I reached the intersection. I pressed the button to turn on the crosswalk lamps and tried to light a cigarette while I waited for the light to change. The wind had picked up since I'd last been outside, however, and I quickly gave up as the cigarette refused to take the meagre flame that the lighter produced. I stuffed my lighter back in my pocket with a curse.
Just then, Justin came up beside me, rubbing at his puffy, red eyes and sniffing occasionally.
"'Got a light?" I asked around the cigarette in my mouth.
It took some time before he acknowledged me, as if he wasn't sure that I'd been talking to him. "No," he finally said. "Cigarettes are nasty."
"To each his own," I muttered, peeved as I placed the object of conversation back in its carton.
"Can you even believe that guy?" he grumbled, and now it was my turn to wonder if I was the one being spoken to. "He can't just do this to us. We've all worked so hard–"
"Justin?"
"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow at me, obviously annoyed that I had interrupted him.
"Shut the fuck up."
Thankfully, the light changed at that moment, and I went out into the street without skipping a beat. Justin yelled something to me as I walked away, but I didn't care enough to try to listen.
The whole time I was walking home, I yearned for the solace of my room. The anger was growing again, quicker than I could squash it down, and I needed a safe place to get my perspective back. As it was now, I could barely concentrate.
I caught my mom just as she was leaving for work, nearly walking into her when I opened the front door. I had no patience for giving an explanation right now, so I muttered an apology and side-stepped around her. Her questions that she called to me as I ran up the stairs were just part of the static. I slammed my bedroom door behind me.
With the door as a physical barrier between me and the rest of the world, I had expected to feel at peace. Instead, I suddenly felt the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders.
And this time, I wasn't so sure that I wouldn't crumble beneath it.
