On The Other Side | Nick O'Malley

1 | two sides

In May, I stored my grey coat in my wardrobe. The temperature increased every day, and the blue sky seemed to finally cure my winter blues.

Nothing had changed much in six weeks. I still woke up at seven, winced at my boiling coffee, and only then realised I was late. Luckily, the ride to the coffee shop was short, and I usually left my worn bike against the brick wall behind the building. On weekends, I would walk my neighbour's dog in one of the London parks, pretending I didn't mind being alone.

When I had time for myself, I shared it with Julian. We often went to the same pub down the street, as he lived a few buildings away from mine. The music was alright there, and the owners knew us well. Sometimes, the two old men would give us free beers and winks to keep it a secret. A younger man had been behind the counter for a few days, though. Julian had told me he was a dickhead, and certainly not the type that I would like to have a conversation with. Most of the time, I watched him do anything and thought of how good he was to me. The feeling was mutual, and maybe he wouldn't be there if I hadn't talked to him that day in high school and every day ever since.

One Friday night, I called him to cancel our plans. I felt too tired to go anywhere and my back hurt. Too tired I couldn't see straight, and everything seemed overwhelming. 

"What did you want to do?" Julian asked me with a distant voice, probably trying to style his hair in front of the huge mirror I was jealous of. 

"Before cancelling?" I scoffed. "Well, now that you ask, pizza sounded good. Shame I can't go out."

My friend's sigh made me smile in victory. "I'll be here in twenty."

I could never get rid of him, even if I wanted to.

Julian arrived thirty minutes after the call, three white bags balanced in his arms while he closed the door clumsily with his feet. More concerned about the food than my friend's comfort, I shut my laptop and set it on the coffee table before rushing to him.

"Wait. Let me get something."

I grabbed the bags and settled on the couch, waiting for him to kick off his shoes in a corner.

"At least ten people were waiting before me. Consider yourself lucky," he plopped down next to me with a loud sigh, more dramatic than it needed to be. "I even got desserts."

"Well, I deserve it."

"Not sure about that," Julian grumbled, and I stifled a laugh.

Once the white and red boxes were opened, the smell of cheese invaded the flat. 

As much as he hated to admit it, nights in were almost as fun as going out to pubs. Julian chose a science fiction movie, but we both kept our attention focused on who would eat the most. He threw his olives in my hair when I got too fixated on the scene playing, and I called him a dick. That's how things were between us. Easy and regular, like what we had always known. 

"I forgot to show you something," Julian mumbled during what seemed to be the most emotional scene of the movie.

With a quick swipe of his thumb, he unlocked his phone and showed me the screen after a few seconds. It honestly took me a while to see the guitar lying over a couch, with how bad the lighting in the photo was. 

"Have I told you I mentioned your bass at Mick's party last Saturday?" I shook my head, a bit lost, so he kept explaining. "A James or Jamie or whatever came to speak to me and told me a friend of his could be interested."

"In buying it?"

"No, to cook with it," Julian said, forcing his smile like a silly child.

I nudged him with my foot, attempting some kind of genuine interest with my eyes.