Paper Hearts (Phan)

The Unofficial Epilogue Part 1

For the first time in a while, I watched the stars from my bedroom window in all their complex simplicity. It was just me. Everyone else in the semi-apartment was asleep. PJ was snoring on the couch, Cat curled up on the floor with Chris. We still had an extra sleeping bag set out as if Dan would occupy it. Having it there just seemed to make everything feel... right.

My heart felt like it would burst from between my ribs and follow the trails of fog drifting in all the way to the constellations above. I wished it would. Maybe then I'd get to see him again.

He was written in the stars, our story drifting up in the air for as long as the universe would last. His story, PJ's, Cat's and Chris', everybody that had ever seen him in the room or waved to him in the soggy garden.

I heard him sigh behind me. I knew he wasn't real. I knew he was dead. But I wanted so desperately for him to be real I glanced over my shoulder and saw him observing the pitch black sky with me. I guess that's what happens when you haven't slept in a couple days.

"I haven't seen you in a while."

"It's been a while." He whispered. His voice flickered like a fire. "But only 47 days. We've both been counting."

"I'll always be counting."

"I know."

The bed creaked, and Dan sat on the extensive windowsill ledge seat right next to me. His feet bumped the wall as he craned his neck to the side to continue watching with me. I could hear the taxis and lonely cars speeding down the boulevard a few roads away, the streetlights buzzing and buildings shutting down for the night. Insignificant, lost, alone, with a ghost sitting next to me, just as inexorable to change and loss.

"Do you remember when we wrote our story among the stars?" He sighed again, more of a whisper than anything. His fingertips grazed the glass carefully as if he'd float right through it if he got too close. "Do you remember any of our story like I do?"

I stared at him for a moment, the distant gleam in his eyes nothing like I remembered. If it was really him, maybe the glint was what he was like before. Maybe it was the consequence of wherever he went, wherever hoped to follow him to.

He frowned and tilted his head to the window frame, spacing out and focusing on the poster taped to my wall instead of the night sky. "Do you?"

"I remember it all. I remember the sound of the cereal box when I first met you. I remember the sound of your room being trashed. I remember the feeling of our bodies warming up the bed side by side. I remember the staple gun going off and the strange calm in your voice on the way to the emergency room. I remember the taste of cigarettes and the sting of the cold rain on my feet that last night. I remember the screech of the microphone in the gymnasium and the blood pulsing through my veins when I found out. I remember saying a goodbye 47 days ago. And I'll always remember watching the stars to see if you're still there."

Dan smiled, teeth staying hidden behind his lips. "It's nice to know I won't be forgotten."

He never would. Never, never as long as the stars glittered in the sky. I almost told him that whenever he came back for a night, until I reminded myself I was talking to an empty room with a ghost. Real or not, I didn't care. All that mattered was that he was here and he wasn't as dreadfully dead as he always was in my dreams. He looked normal, like nothing had ever happened.

Dan's gaze shot back to the window, eyes trailing up to the moon. It was barely peeking out from behind the antenna of one of the larger buildings, one of the super tall business ones. "You know why I'm here right?"

I shook my head no. But I knew perfectly well why he was sitting with me.

"You're slowly deteriorating," he frowned "into a mass of insanity, as PJ so kindly put it. I have to say goodbye."

I'll see you tomorrow then." I whispered and instead of agreeing he laughed quietly, letting out a breath of smoke into the room. He was right. I felt insane. I'd see him everywhere and whenever I'd point him out or acknowledge him, Chris would insist on taking me to a therapist, Cat and PJ would worry more. I couldn't even wave to him without having PJ search up the phone number to the nearest mental hospital.

"I won't be here tomorrow. This is a goodbye."

My heart stopped for a moment. He couldn't really go. I knew it would happen eventually; he had to, but not in only 47 days. That wasn't enough time, it was worse than only 218 days. "But you can't go. I don't want you to."

"I'm not going away," Dan wiped at the corners of his eyes, gaze traveling to my chest as his opaque fingers traced over his own "I'm going to be here. With you."

"Forever?"

"Always."

I watched him slide off the ledge, my eyes scanning the built up dust for hopes of any imprints that meant he really was there, even for a moment. I didn't find a clue. But I watched his elbows settle on the musty white and fingers point out the window. A childish grin spread across his face.

"See the empty space? Right beside the moon?" He asked and I nodded, training my sight on the pitch black right above the antenna. "That'll be me. I'll always be there. Even when you can't see the moon, you can find me. The universe isn't that cruel."

I was desperate for him to stay. I hadn't even noticed I'd stuck to him like he was superglue. "What if I want to find you here, by my side? What about during the day, what then?"

He smiled then, and tapped right next to where my heart would be. "I'll always be right here. That's a promise."

And that was when I gave up. He was dead, always. That was how he was supposed to end up all along, heartbreaks and loss or not. Everything fell into place one way or another and there was never a way I could prevent it. I wished there would be a slip up I could blame on myself so I wouldn't have to give into the inevitable, but no matter how hard I searched one never surfaced.

"I'll miss you." I told him through tears. My eyes felt like they were being set on fire, my lungs a freezing cold.

"I'll miss you too." Dan mumbled sadly, the pads of his fingers brushing against mine. I almost felt something tangible, almost.

I could feel the stars burning holes through my body, the moon shooting a gaping hole through my chest. The street lamps created patterns on the wall from my shadow, the ghostly outline of Dan flickering beside me. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want him to be alone. "Please don't go."

"I have to," he sniffed quietly "it's... it's inevitable. This is the last time I'll be able to sit with you like this. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't have to be the last-"

"I have to go, Philly. You know where to find me, okay? Always." He promised and grabbed on to my hand, my fingers locking around his. And I felt him. I felt his warm grip and the cigarette smoke seeping through the cold night air in the place of stale cold and musty air. I knew it was the first and the last time, too.

So I let go, pressed my lips to his cheek, and sat back, trailing my gaze to his eyes; the new gleam, the happy one, the one without the pain of 56 heartbreaks. The one I never got to know but was the best thing I'd ever seen.

"Goodbye, Dan."

"Goodbye, Phil."

And he was gone. But he really was there in the first place, the first time in a while.

I let my focus trail all the way up to the moon, where he'd told me to look whenever I wanted to see him again. It was pathetic I couldn't even wait a full minute, but I needed to know. Sure enough, I watched a bright star burst into existence, right next to the blinking red building antenna. A smile crossed my face, relief flooding my chest and washing away the fear and regret drowning my lungs.

And for the first time, I let him go.