The Long Way Home

Thirty

Reykjavik more like reck-ya-dick amiright *children screaming*

"Lars, where did you even come from?" Matthew asked, swirling his third beer around in its bottle.
"What do you mean?"
"Like...what made you want to become an editor?"
"I don't know. I just really like books." Lars was only on his first beer. Matthew guessed he was trying to be responsible or something.
"Aren't you rich or something?"
"My adoptive parents are, yeah."
"You could have done anything with your life. You could be an astronaut or something. You don't even need a job."
"If I didn't work I'd go insane."
"But why work as an editor?"
"You're getting tipsy."
"Goooooood. Now tell me."
"I told you. I like books."
"Can you tell me aboot your childhood?"
"Why?"
"Because you know all aboot mine and I don't know yours."
"It's kind of a bummer."
"Good. Tell me."
"Alright." Lars leaned back against the bed frame. "My siblings and I all had different fathers. Mine died when I was a baby, Bella's was an asshole so mom left him, and Louis's dad left us. Then my mom got sick and I pretty much took care of them until I was twelve. She died and we were lucky enough to all get adopted by a really rich couple who had way too much money and love to share." Lars took another sip of his beer. "I think that's pretty much it."
"I don't think I've properly met your youngest brother." Matthew poked his editor in the side.
"I've invited you to Christmas dinner multiple times. If you wanted to come and listen to him talk for hours about fancy clothes and dogs you could have."
"I'd challenge him to a drinking contest to spice things up."
"Like you could outdrink Louis."
"Try me."
"You can't. Hidekaz Himaruya declared him to be the top drinker."
"Who?"
"I don't fucking know. Hand me another beer."
"No! These are all mine!"
"Then give me another slice of pizza."
"Noooo!"
"I'm going to smack you." Lars reached across Matthew's body, stealing a pizza slice and sitting back up with the face of that smug cat with all the knives pointed at it.
"Meanie!" Matthew downed the rest of his beer and threw the bottle at the wall, shattering it.
"Hey! I'm going to lose my down payment!"
"Too bad."
Lars scowled and chewed on his food angrily.
"Lars, can I tell you something?"
"Ja. Sure."
"You saved me so many times. Like, I don't know where I would be if you hadn't taken me in."
"Thanks." Lars shrugged.
"No, seriously. I was living in a basement and I was doing whatever I could for money...I barely even had time to write by the end of the day. But I did. And then I saved up so long to go to that workshop...and then I met you and everything got so much better."
"Mhm." Lars didn't know what to say. Matthew could see that much.
"I just...why did you pick me up that day? There were plenty of writers there and you could have chosen anybody."
"You really want to know why?"
"Yeah. I asked didn't I?"
"I fell in love with your words. They had so much pain in them and I just didn't want you to suffer so much. I wanted to give you all the resources you needed to grow. I wanted to see all those painful words turn into something happier."
"I guess I didn't really do what you planned, huh?" Matthew sighed, thinking of all the orphaned characters and all the tragedy he had given them.
"Are you kidding? In your early works your characters were realizing that nothing mattered and they always ended up alone. But now all your story's have hopeful and happy endings. I've read everything, Matthew. I've watched you crawl out of a very dark place and I can tell you just want that happy ending already."
"And that's why you tried to set me up with Gil? So you can give me that happy ending?"
"Yeah. But look how well that turned out."
Lars looked down at his feet, guilt shadowing his face.
"Hey, don't worry about it. Happy endings don't always have romance." Matthew assured him. "Having a good friend and repairing the broken bonds with my family is good enough for me."
"Maybe someday you'll find somebody who you can love and who can treat you right."
"And then I'll just be more happy." Matthew shrugged. "And maybe I've already met that person."
"Matthew, you have two friends and one of them is ten."
"I didn't mean you!" Matthew's face got hot. "I meant like...passing them on the street...or maybe I signed a book for them...aaaaaagh!"
"Whatever you say, darling." Lars winked and Matthew screamed internally.
"I wish we were never friends!"

He don't mean that. They're buds.