Author Notes: This is my first fic, so you're obliged to be nice.
Tip-tap tip-tap.
The light splattering of rain against my umbrella could be heard, even amongst the bustling of people entering and leaving the coffee shop beside me. Light puffs of cool air dosed my back in chilling shivers with each swing of the door. (since the doors have yet to properly close.)
I look at all the different life forms that pass by, so different in shape and size and gait. A man in a crisp suit, holding an umbrella in one hand, a laptop bag in the other, while a phone is precariously perched under his ear. He's rushing and nudging people out of his way. Probably works on Wall Street.
As the man disappears around the corner, he bumps into a young woman walking in the other direction. She's wearing loose red sweatpants and a white see-through shirt, hardly caring that the man had pushed her with enough power to knock one of her earbuds out.
As she passes in front of me, I half-heartedly cringe at the beats of techno pop that were easily audible over the city traffic, ignoring the pang of pain that hits my chest… Unlike the harried man though, she was much calmer, and seemingly had not a care in the world. She looks like a college student; a young adult experiencing the thrill of exploring the world on her own for the first time.
I almost feel bad, I should warn her that adulthood isn't fun.
On the roads, taxis are lined up at the traffic lights, headlights illuminating the rain and mist. The pedestrians and bikers are impatiently waiting at the intersections if their anxious faces are anything to go by. With the rain tap dancing the ground beneath my feet and spraying my shoes, and the sun hidden behind dusky clouds and towering buildings, it looks like the beginning of an apocalypse.
And I almost wish it were; at least that would be cool. But no, it's not the apocalypse that will mark this day; just a funeral. And as I blankly stare into the crowd of faceless people and dim lights, I think about a day that looked not so different from this one.
Only that day had a much brighter tone because the bad weather was not suffered alone.
Sam and I exit the coffee shop and walk into the chill of the evening air, holding our half-filled cups of coffee (well, one with black coffee and the other with fat-free oat milk fru fru crap). I tilt my head down to avoid the water hitting my face. I complain, "Ugh, I hate rain. Hey, rain! Go away!" I yell at the sky, ignoring the looks I get from passerbys.
It wasn't really raining that hard, but it was hard enough that it was seeping through our shirts and forcing our eyes to look down at the grimy cement below our feet. The sidewalks were crowded as always, and the atmosphere was filled with life and passion.
It's why we moved to the city. The unique lure of a busy and beautiful lifestyle thrilled us.
I turn to Sam, "Hey, do you think singing the rain song will make it go away?"
Sam snorts. "You're an idiot. You should know what jinxing is by now. And second, I would never risk my dignity that much. That's your thing," he teased, shoving my shoulder in jest.
I growl, shoving at Sam's shoulder. "Hey! You should know that I have a lot of dignity!"
Sam laughed at me. I scowled at him, but savored the sound inside. It fills me with warmth and pride, to know that Sammy can laugh without fear.
I should be at the funeral right now. It started ten minutes ago. Sammy's getting buried right now, I know I should be there. A part of me wants to be there, but I'm not. My parents will definitely be pissed, and god knows what the others are thinking, but I couldn't care less.
I just think - wouldn't it be a bit melodramatic if I attended a funeral in the rain? Everyone in black formal clothes, holding black umbrellas, dabbing at their tears with delicate hands and handkerchiefs while solemnly gazing upon a stone with his name carved in and listening to a somber eulogy. It would look so movie-like that it would be insulting.
Maybe the logic is stupid, but I feel like it would be a dishonor to his memory to turn his funeral into a movie, and I know he would agree with me.
He was smiling. It was a smile that could brighten the world more than the sun. His caramel eyes were bright with childish glee and a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. As we continue to walk, I think to myself, that smile should stay on his face even after he dies in a hundred years.
If only I had known that that smile would brighten my life for only another three months. Only ninety-one days with my little brother. Only two thousand one hundred eighty-four hours left with the one person who makes me feel more complete than with anyone else.
So instead I'm here, standing in front of a coffee shop in the pouring rain, until my legs are sore and my shoes are soaked.
He was so much more than just a scene in a movie. He was a human with a face and emotions and words and life. I'm not going to talk to stone and pretend it's him when it's not.
What's the point of talking to a grave anyway; it's not like he would hear me. It's not like he's coming back.
That's why I'm here instead.
In front of a coffee shop, letting the rain do the crying for me.
Every day used to feel endless and infinite, now it feels stilted and transient.
Ending Notes: this turned out a bit weirder than I thought it would, but please leave some feedback below, I'd appreciate it so much! :)
