Nova Luna

Seventeen - Endymion

**

"H-how did you know that I was born on the first of July?" She asked. 

I just smiled back at her, and turned my head to the glass walls of the cafe. 

I could see her—I mean Neoma's—apartment building. The brick walls surrounding the whole property brought back memories. 

Lifting those big boxes of appliances. The same night I was walking home from...

**

"I'm sorry I'm late," Selene grunted, as she interrupted me with my flashbacks from two days ago.

"You're right on time," I replied. "The show's not even started yet." I was waiting for her outside Victoria Prometida. 

The cafe started handing out queue numbers to ticket holders depending on the time of arrival. Luckily I was here early and I got us two queue numbers, giving us a good place to sit during the whole show.

The cafe staff started to line us up based on our queue numbers, and she just couldn't hold her excitement. She couldn't stop giggling. A couple of minutes ago she looked very tired, which was expected seeing as she came straight from work. 

Once we got in, it was like I was invisible again. But as long as she was happy and enjoying herself, I was more than glad to be an invisible person. 

I don't think she even looked at me the whole night; it was as if her eyes were glued to the band performing right in front of her. I never saw her frown, even during all the sad songs that were played. She sang along with a smile, clapped along to the drum beats, and empathized with the band when they were explaining the meaning behind each song that they played. 

To be honest, they were really a great group. The melodies they wrote are catchy; they are great with their word plays. I wished I was that good, but I guess I could only create something that special if there was a blank canvas staring at me. 

When the event ended, Selene couldn't thank me enough and kept repeating how she enjoyed herself. I didn't know what to say. I could sense how great the night was for her, even if she never said a single word.

"You know, I love how they write their songs. I wish I was that good," she told me while we were walking back to my car.

"I have the same thoughts, I wish I could write like they do too. But we can't because it's what made them the band that they are now," I replied.

"No, I mean, how they could write songs based on their experiences. About themselves. I can never do that, no matter how hard I try. It's like..."

She paused for a couple of seconds. We were outside my car and I hadn't opened the door for her yet. She just stood there, staring at her own feet.

"Like what?"

"I always loved writing, but I can't write the lyrics to a song that describes the life I've been living," she replied.

I gave her a soft head pat. I feel bad for her. Because how can she write? She forgets everything about herself over and over again.

"Why don't we do this again?" I said, trying to cheer her up. I was hoping that I could get to know her better, or at least let her know me again. But regaining her motivation to write was greater than my own plans for the two of us.

And so we did.

For the next seven nights, there was nothing but open mic nights, random performances (either music or spoken poetries) and great food at Victoria Prometida. Some nights she would perform, but during most of them, she would just sit with me, her eyes fixed on whoever was on the front stage. 

I have to admit that there were nights that I was too tired. I would fall asleep in the venue, holding my head up with one hand, holding my drink with the other, both of my eyes closed. 

I thought I could make her know me more on nights like these. Make her remember what we were. What we once had. But I was wrong. I said that I was glad to be an invisible guy just so she could be happy, but during those seven nights, I really was invisible to her.

On the seventh and last night, we were in front of her apartment building. Our goodbyes would always last longer than expected. We would bid farewell, but would always wait for the other one to leave first. It would become a cycle and we would waste more time teasing one another.

But tonight it was a quick one. I heard those words again.

"Elios." She hugged me tightly. "I've seen the Moon."

I held her as tight as I could, never wanting to let go. "I'll see you again, won't I?" I whispered.

"Will you remember me, just like how you always remember to say these lines before you go?"

I never got my answer again, and instead, she let go of me and just smiled. I watched her walk through the long and dark hallways of her apartment building.

I turned my back and did the same. But I was walking slower than her, hoping that she would say something, or call my name before we parted ways. 

Then, right before I knew that she would disappear completely from sight, I turned my head to look at her one last time.

Give me one look and I'll come running to you, I told myself.

I never saw anything when I turned around, only the dark and unlit hallways of the gloomy building. 

And her silhouette slowly fading into it. 

Nothing, not even a hand gesture.

Selene. I wonder what name you will have next.