[ BACK IN 2023 ]
One cold morning, Simon meets a boy with starry eyes and poetry-wreathed lips, and that is when their tragedy begins.
***
Simon Huang's a quiet loner with dreams of being on stage. Too scared to disappoint his overbearing, grade-foc...
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The coffee in Vincent's hands almost seems to mock him, silhouetted in the bland, dreary morning grey. Each time he peers into the mouth of the bottle, fragments of his reflection echo back at him in splintered facets, every fractured plane an unanswered question.
Is he okay? his sleepless mind wonders, plagued with leaden worry from the night before. Did I say something wrong?
Vincent exhales lightly, his breath puffing out over his nose in tiny white clouds. Note to self: never bring up Tom to Simon. Or Simon to Tom. He rubs his calloused fingers over the bottle of cold brew, as if he'd be able to summon an all-knowing genie that could sweep away his burning curiosity.
"Morning," Otis greets, voice still laced with the dregs of sleep. Vincent had heard him coming from a mile away---his slippers aren't exactly quiet. But since he's still not sure how his father wants him to react, he fakes a small jump in his seat and plasters his best smile onto his face.
"You scared me," Vincent fibs, one hand dramatically placed over his heart. He grins wider, jaw clenching until he feels something pop. Because he hasn't spoken to Otis since Literature class the day before, and he's not sure if he wants to. Still, because Otis is trying, Vincent will try too.
"Sure," Otis mumbles in reply, reaching into the fridge and yanking out a bottle identical to Vincent's. Vincent's thumbs find each other, twiddling together nervously, unsure if he's stepping on landmines, unsure if they'll blow up in his face.
"I took some of your coffee, by the way," Vincent babbles, because when in doubt, talk. "I'm sorry if I wasn't allowed to or anything, but I---"
"Vincent," Otis interjects, and Vincent instantly presses his lips shut. Okay, so maybe talking wasn't such a good idea. "I'm sorry."
Wait, what? "Oh, you don't have anything to apologise for, and I---" Vincent starts.
"I was jealous," Otis admits. Vincent immediately closes his mouth again, utterly perplexed. "About yesterday, I mean. It's just that..." Otis groans, dropping his head onto the table before raising it again. "I'm the teacher, and I can't even get the class' attention for two minutes. And you just walked in there and made everyone look at you like..." He trails off, guilt fissuring his gaunt visage into something distorted, almost haunted. "I'm sorry, Vincent. That was unfair of me. I shouldn't have done what I did yesterday."
