Behind The Scenes (Completed) ✔️

Epilogue

Twenty years later.

The weary man was sitting on a soaked piece of fabric spread over the wet pavement, at the foot of a random building, cross-legged, slowly rocking back and forth.

Light rain pitter-pattered steadily on the hood of his thick, timeworn jacket. He watched idly as people buzzed around the street, through the stream of water pouring in front of his face, and the long locks of dark, tangled hair that covered half of it.

Leaning against his knee was one of the only companions of his loneliness : a flat wooden board with burned edges, adorned with a sloppy writing in dark blue ink. It was one of his only belongings, one of the only things he had been allowed to escape death's doors with, when everything had ended. Many, many years ago.

The fire. He still remembered it, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. It had come unexpectedly, as sudden as death, without any warning. No one had ever understood how, or why it had happened. And it had taken away everything. His home, his belongings, his friends... his person. The person he used to be.

It had been a random day. A random afternoon. He had left the house to go get some lunch after a long morning nap, and came back, only to find the whole mansion engulfed in flames from the ground to the roof.

Corey and Aaron had just come back home too, after a neighbour had called Corey to inform him of the unfortunate incident, and they were crouching in the middle of the driveway, bawling their eyes out at the fierce tongues of yellow, orange and red that danced and flared from every side. The neighbour had called 911, and was standing by the gate, watching the scene with eyes filled with sorrow.

"What's happening ?" The bewildered boy had yelled, lunging at the neighbour. "What is this ?? HOW did this happen ??"

"I-I have no idea," the man had replied. "All I know is that it's been at least a quarter of an hour that the fire is burning, and there are still three people in there."

"WHAAAT ???"

He had instantly sprinted towards the front door, reached through the flames for the knob, and yanked it open with the blindest force... but before he could go further, two strong pairs of hands had grabbed his arms. "What the hell do you think you're doing ??" They had yelled in his ears. "Are you crazy ?? You're gonna get burned alive !!"

"So will Sam and Colby !!" He cried back. "They're still in there !!!"

His face was red, and his eyes filled with tears, making his vision blurry. And he felt dizzy, but not enough to cloud his mind. "Get off me ! LET GO OF ME !!" He yelled again, actively attempting to yank himself free. After too long frustrating moments, he brutally headbutted Aaron in front of him as hard as he could, then punched Corey in the stomach with his now free arm. He then ran into the house, dodging the high flames, thankful for the sweat that his clothes were drenched in, and rushed towards the blazing staircase, yelling for his friends at the top of his lungs.

But when he made it to their rooms, however, it was too late. They had purposely decided not to save themselves. He had never understood why. He had never recovered from their departure, and he had never forgiven them.

He missed his other friends too. He had never seen them again after the week of the fire. It hadn't been long before the friends had started receiving death threats, as suddenly as the fire had come, and from everywhere. People slandered them with all sorts of accusations, started sending them hate in every form, and it hadn't taken the friends long to find out that the video, had spread around like wildfire. How it had come out still remained a mystery.

Upon realising they didn't have any other choice than to give up everything, they had separated from each other. Too busy dodging the constant materialised outbursts of hate, it had been too late when he had realised. And there was no finding them, nor looking for them. He had fled the state, and he spent years moving from place to place, never spending two nights on the same street, or two weeks in the same town, and living off the generosity of strangers.

He still had his phone. A very, very old miracle of a smartphone, the only valuable possession he had been able to keep. He turned it on once every other month, charged it wherever he could, and scrolled through what used to make up his life, and had been torn away from him. Souvenirs. They reminded him of a time that was much closer to his heart than he would have preferred, and of who he used to be, in the real world.

He didn't feel like a part of it anymore. He merely watched it from afar. As the seasons succeeded one another, as the years flew by and away. As the sun rose and set, and the towns awoke then fell asleep.

The young man he used to see in his reflection, and behind him under the sun light, had long been forgotten.

He contemplated suicide very often. And he had even tried several times, but something always held him back. Something that gave him hope, something that reminded him that life was still worth living. The breathtaking view from the edge of the roof top he had climbed to, the soothing murmurs of the ocean waves below the tall cliff, the majestic sun rays that beamed at him from the sky above the tracks of the whistling train... or simply the occasional smiles and good wishes from compassionate passerbys who stopped at his usually empty, dusty money bowl, blessing his day with heartfelt kindness.

Like the lady in the long white coat who just stopped in front of him, holding a little girl's hand in hers. She had taken out a key ring and was about to unlock the door on his left, when she noticed the homeless man and took a few steps back.

"Hi ! How are you ?"

"I'm good, thanks," he replied, clearing his throat to free his voice.

He turned his head in her direction, but didn't go as far as lifting it. He never did.

She came closer and crouched down by his side, folding her umbrella and tucking it under her arm. It had already stopped raining.

"I'm Daisy," she said in a warm tone. "I live here, in this building. I've never seen you before."

"Oh, I just came here, a... few hours ago. And I'd never been to this town before..."

The lady nodded slowly. Tilting her head sideways, she looked at the hood that hid his face, at his wooden board and the money bowl, then back at his hood. She hesitantly opened her mouth to speak, closed it, before opening it again.

"Have we met ?"

The man visibly flinched, before shaking his head. "I don't think so," he said, trying to sound confident.

"Are you sure ? No, I swear I've met you before. There's something too familiar about you."

The man didn't reply.

"What's your name ?"

He sighed. "I don't have a name."

"Okay. If you say so..."

She stared at him again silently, before talking again. "Can I... Can I see your face ?"

He didn't reply.

"I don't mean to annoy you," she said honestly. "I just really feel like I know you... And I'd be more than glad to help you in any way I can, if you need anything, but please... Can you tell me who you are ?"

Wariness of extra attention from people had been a caution that had followed him all through the long years he had been "on the run". And even though it had already been a long time, and the hunt for him was long over, he still found it hard to cross that boundary.

But this time, feeling the woman's genuine curiosity, and realising that there actually wasn't any reason to hide, he decided to just give in to her request. He slowly pulled his hood back, took off the beanie that was under it, combed the long hair that artfully hid the left side of his face backwards with his fingers, revealing red burn scars and charred skin... and raised his eyes at her.

The sight caught her so off guard that she let out an audible gasp, and she almost fell backwards, her daughter holding her back just in time.

Her eyes instantly filled with heavy tears as she recognized the deep, soulful brown gaze of the man she was staring at, which sent a flood of long burried memories rushing back to her mind, and the all too familiar beauty marks scattered all around his still youthful face. It took her a while before she was able to find a way to speak again.

"Jake..."

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The end.