Danny and Olivier

~Epilogue

Epilogue


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               Olivier sat at his desk later that day, pulling out an old photobooth picture of him and Danny.
               They were kissing and cuddling and touching tongues and smiling for the camera. The two losers at school. Smiling, having fun...happy. Genuinely happy as they goofed around and made faces at the camera, not caring what anyone thought.
                 I hope he's alright, Olivier thought, taking a Sharpie pen from his penholder. Once Danny tells me why he needed to leave, that'll be it. He'll tell me when he's ready.
                Olivier smiled at the shot where Danny had stuck his tongue out at Olivier, and Olivier had resorted to catching it in between his teeth and pulling him in for a kiss. Danny's facial expression was priceless, and Olivier remembered that day more than anything else, at that very moment.
                On the picture itself, Olivier scrawled down one sentence, then tacked it up on his wall, admiring it slowly and carefully before he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
               We're just two, stupid teenagers in love.
               That's it.







              A few hours later, Danny got off the plane in Missouri, scanning the terminal for his father.
              Where is he? Does he look like he used to? The same, jolly old man?
               Then Danny spotted him. A 40-something year old man in a nice button down and black slacks, waving at Danny. Danny smiled at him and wheeled his bag, walking towards his father.
                His father's shiny, bald head reflected the fluorescent lights as a result of stage 4 leukemia. Mr Schallinger acted like it didn't bother him, but Danny knew that he didn't have long until he was gone.
                He wouldn't have left Olivier if his father wasn't dying.
                "Hi, Daddy."
                Mr Schallinger's face beamed at Danny's usage of "Daddy." He never expected that his distant son would resort to calling him that. He responded with;
                "Hi, Big Boy."
                 Silently, as if they didn't need any words to communicate, they wrapped their arms around each others' waist and walked off, out into the cold air of Missouri.

 And like a lot of long distance relationships, things got tough. They stayed up till midnight talking the first few weeks. Then the calls spaced out. Emails got shorter. Text messages were responded with one word answers.



 Until they eventually dropped a note, every couple of months. "I'm good, you?"
 But they tried. That was what counted.

On June 13th, three years later, Kenneth David Schallinger died of leukaemia.




"He pulled it out nice and hard," Danny spoke into the microphone, addressing his father's friends. "The doctor managed to give him 6 months. But he pulled it off for three years." Danny paused, scanning his eyes over the rows and rows of people. His eyes landed on his bandmates, sitting next to his half-siblings. He managed a small smile for his father as he looked up to the sky, taking a deep breath. "He was well-loved. He might have not been there for a chunk of my life, but we made up for it. I will always love my father for all he's worth, and I know you do too. And with that..." Danny look a look at the casket in the ground, nodding softly at it. "Let's bury Kenneth David Schallinger. He's resting in peace now. No more leukaemia pain to suffer through. He's in a better place."
 


Slowly, his father was buried, and Danny smiled. 

His father knew all about Olivier, and he knew what he was going to do next was going to please his father, even from above.

"I'm moving back to San Francisco, Dad," he said to the sky, walking away from his bandmates to take a stroll. "I guess I can go visit mother and get some education done there. And maybe," Danny smiled at the sky, feeling the beginning of a rainstorm on his face, "maybe I'll find Olivier again. Call him up. And I'll tell him all about you, and why I had to leave."
 

Who knows?