Meet me

Seven years earlier, Hawaii.

"Wow Frank, are you for real?"

Frank looked up to see his little brother flop down next to him. Joe had brought a towel, and, as per usual, his surfboard. "What Joe? What's wrong now?" Frank replied, trying to look uninterested.

"You gotta be joking me! You're in Hawaii, at a beach, which, by the way, you have all by yourself. You could go skinny-dipping for all anyone cared! But no, my brother is reading a book. Dostoevsky or what?! We're supposed to be celebrating your graduation, books should be burnt in the process!"

Frank shook his head. "Ah, what a fate it is to have an uncultured swine of a brother!" He was about to return to his book, a self-satisfied grin covering his face, when a blur of arms and legs attacked him with a fervour that would impress even a Spartan. A wrestling match followed, and although Frank really did try his best, Joe won – which he made sure to properly rub in.

"You think you're so strong," Frank objected at last, "but truth is, you just lack responsibility! I could easily win if I didn't care about not breaking all those bones in your body."

"Ha ha, very funny. You're only embarrassed your own little brother defeats you", Joe grinned. The argument kept going till breakfast. At that point, their mother, Laura Hardy, put her foot down. "10 years ago, I thought these arguments would stop once you became adults, but looking at you, Frank," she smiled at her oldest affectionately, "I am not so sure anymore."

"Indeed", Fenton chimed in. "If Frank behaves this way, there is certainly no hope for Joe." He winked. Joe smiled back sheepishly, knowing his dad was right, but at the same time taking a certain pride in it.

As they finished their hotel-breakfast (or more precisely, watched as Joe finished his last couple of plates), they spent the time laying plans for the day. "I suggest," said Fenton, "that we go to the famous shopping mall in the city centre. I've heard it's a must for all tourists. Besides, we've spent way too little money so far." Laura shook her head good-naturally at that, but they all agreed.

As it turned out, the mall was as polished and grand as could be, but consistently overpriced and crowded. Laura and Fenton decided to sit down for a coffee, while Frank and Joe went to explore.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Frank, looking at the map. "Hmm." Joe examined the map too, scanning the shops in each floor. Suddenly his face lit up. "It's a secret," he said, grinning.

Frank shook his head. "Uh huh? And how do you suppose I'll know where to go if it is?"

"Hoping you won't," Joe replied. "I wanna go alone." He couldn't help but laugh at the hurt face his brother put up. "For real?" Frank asked, reproachfully. "I thought we were gonna have a good time together. You know… bonding time?"

Joe laughed again. "It's your birthday coming up, silly. Live with it."

With that, Joe ran for the closest elevator, leaving a lost-looking Frank behind. He wasn't very skilled in shopping, he had to admit that. At least when Joe wasn't there to give him ridiculous shirts to try on, or show him some cool surfboard, or just complain about his empty stomach or tired legs. Frank considered retuning to the café, but decided that Laura and Fenton would appreciate some alone time. Besides, it was located at the very top floor, while he himself were at the bottom. A cup of coffee was hardly worth the sheer number of escalators.

Wandering around aimlessly, Frank repeatedly checked his phone for any incoming texts that might free him from his loneliness. Sure, the fancy food-shops were fascinating with their foul-smelling cheeses of otherworldly dimensions, and he did take some interest in a few pieces of electronics that he hadn't seen before, but he was happy when a text from Joe popped in. "Wyd? I'm done. Meet me?"

"Ofc," Frank typed. "Where are you?"

He didn't have time to hit send. There was a sound, like an explosion, louder than anything he had heard before. A flash of light, and everything went black.

Present day.

As Frank raced down the stairs to open the door, a thousand thoughts were spinning in his mind. Why was Lucia home so early? Had there been an accident? Maybe someone… what if someone had hurt her? Or maybe no one had knocked at all? Had he just imagined it?

Frank teared the door open – and stopped dead in his tracks. All colour left his face. He felt himself tremble, yet his limbs were heavy, too heavy to be moved. On the other side of the doorstep, just inches from his own face, was Joe. It couldn't be! There was no way, he must be dreaming, imagining things.

Slowly, Frank stretched his arm out, still trembling, and let it glide over the face – his fingers trailing down skin, clammy and hot. He knew it by heart, all the expressions written in that face, the happy, the mischievous, the angry. What now? He couldn't read it, there was fear in the eyes, but something more too, something had changed since last he saw it, it was older, Joe was older, but it was Joe – it couldn't be Joe!

"I know I am dreaming," Frank thought, lightheaded with shock, "no, I am going mad. But my god, rather go mad than lose him again."

Scared to death of letting go of his vision, Frank quickly stepped forward and pulled Joe into a thigh embrace. After a second, he felt him squeeze back – and he closed his eyes, thinking he must be dead, it was too real to be a dream. Something hot seeped through his sweater. Was Joe crying?

We can't find him on the lists. But dear, not all victims could be identified. Those closest to the explosion – there was nothing left to identify. I am so sorry.

Frank stood there, on the doorstep, for a long time. How long he could not tell – minutes or hours or days. The only thing he knew, was that if it was up to him, he'd never let go again.