A day in the life (fruk)

17

"Would you wait up!"

"Stop following me, please!"

"We are staying at the same hotel!"

"Go a different way. I don't want to see you right now, especially on acid."

"What is your deal? Everything was fine a minute ago. What changed? Is it because I beat you? Well, I'm sorry, I forfeit, so you win!"

"Idiot, I don't care about that!"

"Well? Then come over to my room; you can tell me what you do care about!"

"Shut up! Stop saying things like that!"

I continued to walk. I ended up walking back to the hotel, and he followed right behind. Ridiculous if you ask me. "What? Why must you be so difficult? Is it so bad that we—"

I turned quickly, shoving him. "Shut up! Please, someone will hear," I spoke. He only looked at me with sadness but didn't let it go. He continued to follow me. "Arthur, something has been wrong. Will you talk to me? I could help if you give me a chance!"

"There is nothing to discuss; I don't know what you are trying to say. Everything is fine, this is fine, so drop whatever it is you are trying to say. I don't want to hear it."

The only way to stop the psychedelic effects of acid was to sleep it off. That's what I needed. I needed to sleep off all of these heightened emotions I so badly wanted to get rid of. I wanted to cry for once, to scream, to do anything else but hear what he had to say. I knew what he wanted to say. He could confess to me right now if he could, but once again, I wouldn't let him. I refuse to let him sink into a hole where he wouldn't be able to come back. To say something he couldn't take back.

Because once he said it...then it was over...

At least for me...

Everything I had lived up to will be for nothing. All the things I did to ignore my feelings for him. Everything! It will be shattered. I loved him dearly, but I couldn't let him love me. It wasn't something people like us had. I can't. I can't do it!

I can't!

I rushed inside the hotel and up the stairs. He still followed.

"Please, I know something is wrong. What are you hiding from me? I know you like the back of my hand!"

"Nothing!"

We reached the floor my room was at, along with his room. I took out my room key, and the hallway stretched longer than it should have. It felt like I was battling my brain to ensure I made it to my hotel room.

I could hear his footsteps following behind me until I was  to the front of my door. "Stop following me; you are being weird!"

"Not until you talk to me! Something has been wrong with you! What is it?!"

I opened the door to my room, quickly trying to close it on him, but he shoved his way through. What was his deal? Why did he want me to talk about my feelings? It had nothing to do with him, only myself. I was fighting a battle against myself. I have been for the past few years. I have so much guilt, sadness and regret stored in my body and nowhere to put it. It was building up, and I was running out of space.

"Francis, stop, leave me alone," I begged. I tossed my shoes off, along with my coat. However, he looked like he wasn't going to back down.

I believe this would have been easier if the boys had stopped trying to play matchmaker. It was stressing me out, and I didn't know what to do. I don't have anyone to talk to about this. I felt alone in this world, and I wanted to die. I wanted to kill myself so I wouldn't have to feel anything. However, I only thought of that as being selfish.

"Arthur, I care about you," he started. I shook my head at him, and he came up to me. Francis placed his hands on my shoulders, trying to get me to look at him, but I shook my head. "Please, you will stress me more than I already am," I explained.

I finally looked him in the eyes, and he looked like he didn't know what to do. "Please...just listen to what I have to say...I know we've had our differences and still do, but I care about you—more than you could imagine. I won't say to what extent, but I want you to know that I am here for you. All I ask is that you don't shut me out. I couldn't bare that anymore. It isn't the old times where we must feel we need to shut each other out. It is modern times, and things are better. Please...talk to me..." he spoke.

I felt my throat tightening and my eyes watered.

"I..."

He only stared at me, concerned.

"I don't...know what to do with myself anymore. Please, don't make it harder for me. I don't need the stress. Can't we forget about everything? I want to be friends with you, but it is hard. Can we please forget about everything? We can treat each other as friends and move on. Please, for my sake," I cried. His face was still as he nodded his head. However, looking into his eyes screamed that I had broken his heart again, just as he had done to me several times.

"If that's what you want...I will do my best...I will forget everything...if you truly want that..."

"I do. I would like that very much."

We stared at each other longer, and he slowly let go of me. Allowing me to separate from him. I didn't want to do this, but I felt my emotions backed me into a corner. I couldn't give him the love I wanted to give him. I wasn't sure how some nations did it—hiding their emotions with little gifts or flirting. I wasn't in the right mind to only be that way toward Francis. Suppose I was going to love him and give him my love. I would ensure everyone knew I loved him. However, I couldn't.

It will never be the right time for us. Because we weren't meant to be together like I wished we could. We were cursed to love each other from afar, and I wasn't ready to get into and break apart the walls I had put into place.

Suddenly, as if on schedule, my telephone began to ring.

"Sorry...give me a moment," I spoke.

I quickly took out my phone, awkwardly looking away from Francis. I clicked the button to answer, breathing out. "Hello?" I started. I waited a few seconds before that familiar voice began.

"Yo, I know the two of you left, and I hope I didn't interrupt anything—"

"You didn't; what do you want?"

"Hahahaha...well, I've got a tip...do you think you and Francis are available to do some incognito spying?"

I groaned in annoyance, placing my left hand on my hip. I turned to look at Francis, and he only stared curiously. "Tell me the details later; I'm about to go to bed."

"Right on! How about—"

I hung up, throwing the phone on my bed. "We should sleep; the acid is getting to my brain," I started. He nodded at me and slowly backed away. "That was Alfred, wasn't it?"

"Yes, and he has a job for us...even more of a reason to let these things go."

All he could do was nod as I stared at him sternly. It was all I could think to do, what I could do to shut down his feelings. Our feelings. From getting worse than it already was.