This is something really different to normal - little dialogue. You won't know why after reading this but I'm relishing writing this story. Enjoy.


It was the following night. I'd tried my parents three times. The first time, I had knocked on their door and seen someone come to answer it but then turn away again. The second time, I'd caught my father in the street but he had told me to leave the family alone and that I was upsetting my mother. This morning, I tried again but there was no answer. I had spent the day sitting in my flat, feeling at a loss. They didn't want to see me, nor speak to me. I didn't know how permanent this was on their part but it compounded my feelings of guilt. I simply felt terrible. Needing to get out of the flat which depresses me no end, I decided to wonder around town, hoping it was late enough that I wouldn't bump into anyone.

I sat in the middle of the Square for ages, grateful for the air. My family and what I had done to them looped over in my head, torturing me, yet rightly so; it should not be something I could so easily forget. Once I'd decided the fresh air was actually doing me no good, I got up to head home yet as I walked past the Vic, who should walk out but Christian. He stopped, surprised to see me. I was glad for this chance meeting though.

"Christian."

"What do you want?"

"Will you come and talk to me for a bit?"

"I've got to get back." He made to leave.

"My parents; they won't speak to me."

"What do you want me to do about it, Syed? I've told you what I think."

I paused for thought. "I just think they need more time."

He laughed humourlessly. "Like you did? Like you came around in the end?" His smile was... venomous.

"I thought you might..."

"What?"

"... I don't know."

"Neither do I." He turned and walked away from me. I was surprised that he wasn't trying to influence me in some way. He always had something to say, whether it comforted or stung. This was something I was unused to. It made me uncomfortable.

A minute later, I was making my way to his flat and ringing on the bell. I didn't know what I wanted to say or what I wanted to hear, but it was an impulse. I buzzed again.

"What?" He sounded angry, knew it was me.

"Can I come up?"

"Look, Sy, we can have these same conversations forever, or one of us can say enough's enough."

"This isn't like that. But please, not in the street."

"I've got nothing left to say anyway. 'You can lead a horse to water...' they say. And they're right. I see that now."

"Please, Christian. I don't want to go round in circles either. Just let me in."

He buzzed me in and I was relieved for a second before worry took over. I didn't have anything to say to him. I just wanted to be with him, in the same room as him. I wanted him to put his arms around me, make me safe. But I knew he wouldn't. He was too angry.

He opened the front door and looked at me with mild contempt. I felt unwelcome, a little embarrassed. It was beginning to overwhelm me.

Then I just cracked, burst into tears, my knees buckling. I felt him catch me before I hit the ground. He tried to lift me to my feet but my legs wouldn't take it so he knelt on the floor with me, one arm under mine, supporting me, the other holding me, his hand rubbing my back.

I continued to sob on his shoulder, him doing his best to subdue me but I couldn't be calmed. I felt great loss – my parents wouldn't see me, didn't want to know me. I had wronged them and I wasn't being given an opportunity to try and put it right, which I understood completely but it hurt no less. On top of this, I felt that Christian resented me – his anger was visible not just in his eyes but in every inch of his body. I felt like a pariah; the most unwanted of men. The most unloved. I couldn't blame them but I couldn't take it either.

A few minutes passed and my sobbing had subsided. I knelt there, all out of tears with bloodshot eyes, clinging onto Christian like his sympathy would fade any moment and he'd let go of me. He didn't though. He just rocked me a bit, like I do with Kamil sometimes to get him to sleep. I felt tired too; drained. After a bit, my breathing was normal, my mind focussed on nothing it seemed, but I was glad for the respite from negative thoughts.

"Yeah?" Christian said softly into my ear. It brought me back to life, back into the present. He let go of me and I kicked off my shoes. He picked me up and took me over to the bed – I was too tired to hate feeling childlike in that moment. He put me down and tucked me in, sliding my belt off and my socks, unbuttoning my jeans. I could feel my eyelids trying to bargain with me to get some sleep, but I just wanted to stay awake a bit longer to feel Christian get in next to me. Soon I was forced to close my eyes for good but I still waited for him. When my ears eventually shut off, I felt for him beside me with my arm yet it reached nothing but an empty space. And then... my body won its battle.