𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖚𝖘'𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 - a dsmp au

at the edges of my fingers

Tommy thinks, deep within a memory he holds close to his soul, that at one time he was happy.

Or maybe not happiness, but a sense of surprise, maybe comfort.

Spontaneity.

But not the type that scares you to the bone.

Even though he doesn't know the words for it, he still remembers.

A summer night in a city.

Chicago or New York, maybe.

He sat on a barstool, small and tiny.

He drank Diet Coke from a glass bottle.

In a cupcake shop.

It was late at night, late enough to be naughty.

And as he looked at the long queue of people lining up next to a shiny metal railing, holding the cold bottle at his fingertips.

Tommy dimly remembered feeling alive.

---

Tommy doesn't know how many years had passed since he went to that cupcake shop.

He just knows that he is 28, a far cry from the small boy that sat on that stool top.

A lot had changed since then, not just physically for Tommy.

People grow apart.

That's all Tommy would say.

But maybe it's that feeling he gets when he lies on his bed in his house, and the remembrance of the memory.

He sees fluorescent low-hanging lights now, and pink frosting.

Or maybe it was the sense of loneliness, that made him reach for his phone in the darkness and type into his contacts a name he thought he would never type again.

It wasn't anger or sadness that kept him from it, it was the sense of moving on, he rationalized.

He took a deep breath and he typed:

hey, remember that one cupcake place we went to when we were were kids?

The response is swift, to Tommy's surprise, almost like he was waiting for Tommy to text him, even after all these years.

Tommy wonders what he's doing up.

It's midnight.

hey! long time no see! uhm, we went to a lot of places when we were younger, which one are you talking about?

Tommy stares at the text for a few moments.

He used to be a social butterfly when he was younger but look at him now.

He finds himself hating the way that the text is sent, all stiff and unlike him.

hey! long time no see!

Pffft. Who even said that.

He was typing in all lowercase too.

He used to always type in all caps like he was screaming for all the world to see.

Maybe he has changed.

They weren't boys anymore.

It had been 10 years.

Of course he had changed.

Tommy's greatest fear, he guessed, was that he, himself, hadn't.

it had diet coke in glass bottles. the cashier had to pop them open for us. and it had red bar stools.

The three little loading bubbles appeared on the screen, and Tommy holds his breath.