02: Love

“Whoa. That was really good.”

“Thanks. It’s one of my better ones. My earlier works aren’t as good as this.”

Thomas would have also commented on how strange his voice was, so different from his regular voice, as though the sounds said were a direct window to that world, rather than the faltering noise of a poor, or even adequate messenger. It was like he didn’t even hear him speak.

“That’s all you have so far?”

“I don’t have a lot, but there’s little more than this. I’ll read you a chapter every week if you want.”

“Sure, your writing is great. Really great. I’m so bad with words that I can’t even say how great it is.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it. I don’t really show my writing to people.”

“I’ll count myself lucky- hey, I have a question though.”

“Yeah?”

“Was the alien guy based off you?” He said this carefully. Felix’s eyes were a dullish blue-gray, and his hair, while not quite white, was a very light blond. The reference was too obvious.

“Yeah, he’s a gratuitous author insertion. Or an author surrogate, like the pros would call it.”

“That’s kind of funny-”

Thomas could hear the apartment door open loudly from inside Felix’s room, car keys jangling, and the sound of a woman’s laughter, followed quickly by a man. Also, sexual profanities, and the woman was giggling at them, “oh,” and “oh you” and “oh yes” and more girlish chuckling. Felix’s face blanched clean of blood, and his friend whispered.

“Is this a bad time? Should I go home?”

“It’s fine.” It didn’t sound fine. “My mom’s just... just... starved for attention. I don’t recognize this guy. He sounds new.”

“Um, what should I do then?”

“Nothing. You don’t have to do anything.” Felix smiled, and Thomas felt a tearing kind of sorrow.

“My mother won’t even speak to me,” he said out of the blue, and immediately lamented the comparison. “Sorry- that was totally inappropriate...”

“It’s fine,” he repeated. “Tell me about your mom.”

“My aunt told me she didn’t want to see me born, but Valiant already paid her off to raise me. You know this, ‘test wombs’ get stipends every month to feed us for as long as we stay alive until we’re eighteen. My mom didn’t want to touch me. She didn’t talk, she went mute. My aunt had to raise me and I stayed in school day cares and extra curricular activities just to avoid her.”

“That’s tough. Sorry.”

“I’m free money. Two years from now they’ll never want to see my face again. I never asked to be born. It makes me wish they were- no. That’s just shitty of me.”

“Wish they were?”

“Dead.”

“No, it’s not shitty. Calm down. I’d never wish anyone dead, but I know where you’re coming from.”

“You’re a better person than me, Felix.”

“I taunt rich kids and then confuse them by laughing instead of shouting when they beat the shit out of me. I don’t know what that makes me. But you know, I don’t mind.”

“...Mind what?”

“The world is so, so ugly. And that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“You lost me.”

Felix sighed. “It’s fine.”

The room door opened, and almost made Thomas jump. Felix’s mother looked a lot like his, pale skinned, blue eyed, with delicate features. It disturbed him. A hickey on her neck, a bruise under her left eye- it all made him feel ill.

“Aw, Felix, you got yourself a friend! Does he know Nelo?”

“No mom, Nelo is a rich bratty girl who has existential problems and refuses to speak to me. Go back to your boyfriend.”

“His name is Stephan, you’ll like him!”

 “No I won't.”

A small pause, and then she left. Thomas looked down at the carpet, a dark navy.

“You can leave if you want, Thomas.”

“If you want me to.”

His voice did not shake, but something felt like shaking and trembling inside. “I want you to stay actually, but I’m embarrassed now. I’m really sorry.”

Thomas, uncertain, took out a notepad and scribbled down his cell phone number and address.

“Call me. We can’t hang out at our house, but there’s places we can go.”

“Alright.”

They both stood. There seemed so much to say, but no way of saying it.

“Thomas- it gets better. It better get better. I will make it get better, or I will die.”

Felix, emperor of distances and silences. Thomas nodded, not entirely following.

“Call me.”

“I will. Bye.”