Echo of the Past - volume 2

4. Marcin

Translator: Schiotka

Editor: Bluwren

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Evening

He was sitting at the bar, waiting for Min. He didn't want the party to end just yet, the buzz felt a little too good for that.

He said his goodbyes to his bandmates a few minutes earlier. Firyal insisted he follow her home, however he still had a few plans for the night. And his plans did not end politely on his own mattress.

With a silly smile stuck on his face he exchanged text messages with mister 'What's Up'.

Marek65: Okay, so at least tell me how you became gay?

He sipped his drink. The guy wasn't very talkative, which made him want to dig even more.

What'sUp: I don't really remember

Marek65: suuure

Marcin scoffed, spilling his colourful drink over the bar top. The bartender gave him an exasperated look, which Marcin didn't hesitate to return. He glared at him with the disdain of the biggest diva in this club.

When the bartender turned away, pissed off with the look he received, Marcin smugly went back to texting:

Marek65: come on, everyone remembers that. For me it was when THIS GUY kissed me.

He wasn't sure why he used capital letters. His fingers did it of their own accord, it seemed. It was too late to change it. He'd already hit send. He shrugged it off.

Marek65: my whole life flashed before my eyes – he exaggerated, feeling amused.

Marcin was of the opinion that you just don't forget things like that. Everyone had that one defining moment when they realised that... well. They weren't normal, as God himself intended.

What'sUp: I've had a similar drama

What'sUp: and seriously, I really don't remember it

Mister What's Up did remember though. He just didn't want to share this with someone he barely knew, whom he'd never even met in real life. It was his memory. Intimate and treasured. Only his.

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9 years ago

Nivan wasn't sure how to deal with the deluge of tears spilling down Marcin's cheeks. He felt paralysed, helpless.

Since that morning he knew something wasn't right. As soon as he asked him, Marcin erupted. He burst like a balloon, spilling huge teardrops.

Nivan didn't know it was possible to be able to cry this way. In his house you did not show weakness. You had to be tough. Always, even when it hurt.

Tears did make an appearance sometimes: on his mum's face, or in movies. His brother, father, and granddad – never. He couldn't recall when he himself last cried.

"... what happened?" he asked, a little taken aback by the whole situation. He knew he had to repeat his question, despite being afraid it would make Marcin cry even harder.

They were both sitting in the stairwell leading to the basement. A quiet and out-of-the-way place in their school.

However, it made Nivan a bit twitchy. He was constantly checking to make sure a fellow student didn't choose that very moment to come here to smoke. He didn't want anyone to see his friend in such a state. It felt important to be the only one who could witness Marcin falling apart.