the fault is in our stars (sven)

— At first, I had some trouble adjusting with Paco being here everywhere and all the time. After he came back from London, he just settled into my apartment and we lived together for a month. Then we were together on the boat for another month. And later we were together at his place. Now I am back into my lair and everything just feels so empty. It took me a while but I got used to the constant mess, to the ambient noise, to his warm presence next to me. Even the cats are wondering what happened. Nothing happened, it just... got back to normal. And I am left here alone, overwhelmed by a loud silence. Everything is where it is supposed to be, and yet I have this huge feeling that something is off. Because I miss him every second that he spends away from me. And it kinda hurts, too.
On top of this, there is also my leg problem. Thankfully, I don't need a crutch anymore but each and every stop at the hospital just feels like a complete waste of time. I won't go back to the ice anytime soon, not with that stupid program they are making me do. Some exercises, some fancy massages and a pep talk? As if it was ever going to be enough for me to join the hockey team again. Anger and frustration are growing by the minutes in a soul that used to be so quiet and docile, I don't have any idea how to deal with it–or process it, for what it is worth. And it has been a long time since I have last heard about this dysfunctional family of mine; I wonder what they are up to. At least, I am doing fine at school. That is something I wish I could hold on to more then I actually do.
So here I am, taking the destiny into my own hands. Or was it the insomnia? I can't remember the moment I finally got up, tired of staring at the ceiling in a cold bed, to put on my shoes and leave. The shivers down my spine and freezing air are pushing me to run faster than I should. If no one is going to help me build my muscles again, then I will help myself. In the middle of the night. Because I have got nothing better to do and I am too scared to be left alone with my thoughts. As the fog is coming out of my mouth, I am suddenly out of breathe and covered in sweat already. That was fast, I really am out of shape. After a walk, I begin to run again. There is a weird taste of blood on my tongue due to the cold making my throat sore. And just a little too late, I realize that I left my brand new phone and my headphones at home. Yeah, everything was just easier when I was lying around on the couch all day long, high on painkillers.
Coming through the park at a decent pace, the sound of my breathing covers everything else and it is probably for the better. Darkness surrounding me, I could almost feel safe. But that was before I jumped abruptly when I suddenly hear a voice out of nowhere. « Holy fuc-...! » When my heart finally stops pounding against my chest and I can wrap my head around what just happened, I am still confused. What is wrong with me? Do I want to die? Maybe, who knows; I don’t know exactly what it is, but there is definitely something not right about me. I don’t know why, but I feel the urge to prove that there is a logical explanation to all of this. « I can't sleep. I'm off my meds, I've been having troubles sleeping ever since I stopped taking them. And also I live nearby. » And he definitely doesn’t. Of all people I could have met in the middle of the night during this unscheduled jogging, I just had to come across him. « What the hell are you doing here anyway? You scared the shit out of me. » Pouting in annoyance, I stay still while staring at him. Last time we talked in a somehow adult way, he kept making comments and implying things about my relationship. We were supposed to get along–or at least, try not to kill each other–but it’s getting harder by the days. A child could have been more daring than me at this moment, I feel like I have been caught doing something bad and there is no way out–he is going to tell Paco and everyone else.

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— And he is just here, laughing while I am holding on to the last bit of air that can make it to my lungs. When I finally calm down, I manage to explain why I am here. Surprisingly, he doesn’t make fun of me or anything when I talk about my injury. « Yeah. » Frowning as he asks what happened, I can’t exactly understand why he would care about anything related to me. Maybe he is just lonely and he wants to fill the silence, maybe he truly wants to know because Paco is his friend and I am Paco’s boyfriend. I can’t be sure. « I… don’t think I’ve told anyone, actually. » Looking down to my feet, I don’t know where to start. Each time, I just brushed it off and said it was a hockey accident. « Hockey accident. I was practicing at the rink and uh… a teammate slipped right next to me. I took his skate’s blade in the leg. » With a painful grin on my face, I try not to look like someone he would have pity for. I had enough of that. « Nothing as bad as a broken bone, just… lots of stitches. » Besides the fact that every time I close my eyes, I can only see the blood spreading on the ice; it is like reliving the accident over and over. But fortunately, I still have enough self-respect to refrain from admitting that. Especially to him. I shrug, not sure what will happen now.
When I ask him how he got there and why, he is suddenly kind of elusive. There is an awkward silence, I don’t know if I should just go and leave him to die here or stay and let him bother me for the rest of the night. Tough choice ahead. The thing is, if I leave and his body is found next morning, I am going to be the first suspect in a murder investigation and that sounds like a lot of trouble. I might aswell just stay. Breaking the weird stare that we were giving each other, he attacks again with a stupid joke–but is it a joke, really? « Oh no, please don’t beg. » Rolling my eyes as far as I can, I give up on fighting the whole oddness of this situation to sit next to him on the bench. Not too close, not too far. I was expecting another blank in the conversation, but he decides to apologize instead. Which is… unexpected. « Don’t worry about it. » Soft voice and not-so-strong-willed anymore, I find myself liking this newfound peace in the middle of the night with someone I never thought I would be quietly speaking with. After a sigh, I nod lightly to his uncomfortable conclusion. « Indeed we can’t. » But then, I realize that I told him why–but he didn’t. Eyes staring into the dark void of the night, I don’t dare to look at him yet. « So… why can’t you? Is there something wrong? » It is hard to think about something not wrong about him, but I am doing my best to be the late night buddy he seems to need right now. I am not a complete asshole, or at least that is what I would like to show.

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— He doesn’t seem to buy the fact that I didn’t even explain how I got hurt to Paco, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The less I talk about what happen, the better. The disgusted look on his face almost manage to make me smirk; yeah, that wasn’t pretty. Rising an eyebrow at his weird comment on me playing hockey, it takes me a while to understand if he is making fun of me or just being his annoying self as always. « Was that supposed to be a compliment or something? » Caught off guard, I end up smiling a bit. He clearly doesn’t want to talk more about that and me neither, so I am just letting him do the most of the conversation. It is not like it has ever been my forte anyway. « Probably. » Or maybe not, I don’t know for sure. And not even one of the many doctors I have seen was willing to give me an approximate date when I could be able to get back on ice. He talks about his injury, and I nod politely. « Yeah, I remember. That’s why I tried to ask you about it when we were on the boat, like… how long did it take for you to recover, but your friend came and… I just didn’t get any other chance to do so. » I shrug. Whatever, it wasn’t even the same thing that happened to us so that would have been pointless to know.
I feel like this is one of these uncanny moments of comfort one can sometimes find in strangers. He is not a stranger, but he could be. It is not like we know a lot about each other. Not saying anything, I still see him shiver and search for every bit of heat with his hands in his pockets. Asking him about it was a long shot, but since we are both here doing nothing under the moonlight, I might aswell give it a try. He seems to hesitate, coming back to change the answer he just gave me. Even if I didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t know, I didn’t actually expect him to be honest with me–he doesn’t owe me anything after all. « I can’t promise I won’t judge, but there is a very low chance that I laugh. » Looking at him with a rare look of innocence on my face, I realize that it may not have been the thing he wanted to hear. Whatever I am thinking, he apparently doesn’t care, since he starts spitting every little thing bothering him. That is a lot, especially for someone like him who always seems so careless. Letting him get everything off his chest, I keep quite. I can painfully relate to that awkward smile at the end; even after saying all of it, he is still trying to pretend like this whole thing doesn’t affect him. I don’t even know what to say to him. « I love college. » I bite my tongue as I realize what I just said to someone who told me they dropped out. Quickly, I try to get to the bottom of what I meant. « So I can’t really understand what you mean. But… I do know everything about disappointed relatives. » Pouting when I remember every time my parents told me I wasn’t good enough despite being the first in everything, there is a bitter taste in my mouth. I am so much better off without them. « It took me twenty-one years to figure out that no matter what you do or don’t do, people that want to be mad at you will be. » I let a cold sigh and keep watching the whole dark nothing in front of me. « So I stopped caring. Easier said than done, I’ll give you that. » There are a lot of things that still keep me up at night–no kidding–but my studies luckily aren’t one of them. Everything can be a source of anxiety, but that won’t be. « And as far as I know, you don’t have nothing. You still are the co-owner of a nightclub, you still have music. Those are things you can be proud of, so… just because this year wasn’t yours, it doesn’t mean that the next won’t be. » I am pretty sure this cold, logical approach of his problem wasn’t exactly what he came for. But that is what I am good at–turning off the feelings to think. I never thought I would talk with him that way but since he is playing fair and being awfully honest, it is the bare minimum to return the favor.

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