Along the street of Antibes

Prologue

May 16, 2022

I opened the door of my apartment, took off my shoes, and sat on my couch.

"I'm sorry, I trespassed again. I wasn't able to call you 'cause I'm afraid I might disturb our future Doctor Surgeon in his class. But to make up for that, I ordered Thai food, and I already microwaved it."

Gus is on the kitchen aisle, he propped the food container in front of him. "Dig in."

"Thanks for that, and Gus... I don't really mind you coming here without calling me first. I couldn't care less," I said to him.

He faced me and stopped what he's currently doing on his laptop. He smiled. "I know, I knew you don't care, but still, this is your own place and you always want your privacy because I might accidentally stumble upon a girl here. So an apology for going here unannounced is a must."

"I don't bring girls here."

"I said 'girl' not 'girls'. " And then he stifled a laugh.

I laughed hard because of that, a loud, full, genuine laugh. My lower lip wobbled, I felt a pang in my chest. I forced to stop the tears fighting to spill from my eyes, but I failed to do so. Tears became cries. A happy laugh became a weep. The emotions are stronger than my will to forget and move on.

"Gus..." I uttered. I called him. Except he's not here.

He's not on the kitchen aisle with his laptop. He didn't visit me and bring me food in the first place. Augustus Leygon, my brother, is not here in my apartment with me. He's ten feet on the ground.

Suddenly, the air got cold. It's a summer day, but the atmosphere in these four walls surrounding me said the other way around. It's quiet, all I hear is the air entering from the windows. All of a sudden, my place became so spacious. It feels like a new apartment with no furniture and with no stuff. My place feels empty.

So vacant, so blank, and sad. Just like the one who lives in it.

I lay my body on the couch. I stare into my ceiling and got lost in the vastness. I don't know what vastness, maybe in the vastness of the havoc in my mind. I closed my eyes.

"You know what, I love to visualize Italy when I'm down. When I don't feel great, when I feel not okay. It's my favorite place, it's my place. I traveled there for I don't know how many times. But just the sight of it when I feel heavy and I have no one to talk to feels great. It calms me down. You should try it, Aries, when you're sad."

Gus said when I got expelled in 10th grade and Mom said she's gonna bring me back to my biological family if I didn't get on my knees and apologize to the parents of a classmate whom I intentionally tripped down in our soccer practice.

But whenever I'm trying to do what he suggested me to do, it doesn't work. Because I don't have a place I can call my favorite.
What I do is to get Gus' camera. And see his photos and videos he took while he's traveling in Italy.

It never does the work, to lessen what I'm feeling, to make what seems to be a baggage I have been carrying for 10 months lighter. I still feel heavy, nothing changes.

"If nothing changes, if you still feel sad, instead of just imagining the place you love, go there."

"You mean, I will visit the place?"

"Exactly, why? Are you afraid of going there alone, Mom and Dad might know? Don't worry Aries, I got it. They'll never gonna know."

"No, it's not like that. It's just... I don't have a favorite place to go to."

"Then find one. Find your place, somewhere you'll never get used to going to no matter how many times you visit it. A place that somehow hugs you, welcomes you, comforts you. Somewhere along for who knows where, that will be your home."

"How about school, Gus, you're literally telling me to run away. I don't want to run away."

"Well, my younger brother... I think you're still young to understand that there will be times when all you need to do is to run away. It's not gonna be the solution to your problem, but it will do the work. It will surely make you feel like the opposite of what you feel right now... sad."

Maybe I just need to run away.

Should I run away? Should I leave this place? Maybe finding a place I will never get tired of will make me forget for a moment. Maybe if I leave this to go somewhere I've never been to and find my place, I can also leave behind the pieces of me tugged to my dead brother. So I can get up again, lift a part of me that was clung to him when he died.

Maybe I can do it. Leave everything behind, after all, everything already left me behind, alone and hanging.

Maybe that's the thing I should do.