Phantom

8.

Brett

Brett contemplated a thousand times if he should confess his feelings to Eddy on the day when he got accepted to the university.

Eddy was his best friend. Well, his only friend. Could he risk losing him forever?

Brett felt his confidence crumble down as he saw Eddy playing violin in the practice room. His eyebrows were squinted, showing his concentration to master the piece. His arms flexing, his lips in a tight line. How could he be so perfect?

Brett saw himself through the pale glass and saw a small man with hollow eyes, fed up with bullshit that his life has given him from birth. That's when he realized no, he would never be able to tell his secret to Eddy. At least he couldn't before growing up to be someone who no one, no being can dare to fuck around anymore.

His wish was fulfilled when he studied and was trained to be a police officer. He felt stronger, more apt in crisis, more mature.

But the distance between Eddy and him has grown so much by that time that he didn't dare to contact Eddy again.

.

.

Brett opened his eyes in the morning. He turned to look at the clock - 7:30 AM. It was a bit early but his mind became alert as he thought of what happened yesterday. He grabbed his glasses and tiptoed to the living room to confirm that yesterday was not a dream.

Eddy was laying down on the couch, his head buried in a pillow. Brett laughed a little as he saw Eddy's hair messed up into a nest. Even as a ghost, Eddy's hair was unruly in the morning.

"Good morning," Eddy murmured through the pillow.

"Nights are long for ghost, I heard," Brett chuckled as he proceeded to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

"Yeah, because I couldn't sleep," Eddy sat up, seemingly annoyed with his new condition of being dead.

"You'll get used to it, Eddy. Want some coffee?" Brett asked as he filled the electric pot.

"Can I eat...or well drink?"

"I mean you can, you just don't need to. Your choice."

Brett remembered the Asian ancestral memorial ceremony when his family will prepare a table full of food for his ancestor's ghosts once a year. He has seen plenty of his dead family members coming into his house to eat up the food and leave, patting him on the head occasionally.

"I'll try some coffee then," Eddy muttered.

Brett poured two coffee in the cup. Eddy joined Brett in the kitchen, sitting down in one of the chairs cushioned with socks and clothes.

"What's your plan today?" Eddy asked, sipping his coffee.

"Looking after you?" Brett smiled as he looked up from his cup and continued.  

"You remember how I used to look after you when your parents were gone away? We played video games and ordered pizza - those were good times."

"Of course, those were the best moments," Eddy smiled back.

They finished the coffee. They chatted on the couch and watched some old TV series together. Brett felt like he was back in those days when he used to spend time with Eddy during the weekend.

When it turned late afternoon, Brett pulled out a bottle of vodka after finishing the pizza.

"You see, I love drinking now," Brett laughed as he poured himself a shot.

"That's an improvement," Eddy rolled his eyes.

.

.

"Quick-close the door!" Brett whispered.

They both remembered the night when Brett secretly took his parent's liquor and brought it to Eddy's room. Eddy's parents were in the living room, sleeping over a TV drama. Eddy brought the mugs from the kitchen and they sat on the floor giggling, pouring each of them a whole lot of alcohol because they didn't know how much alcohol tolerance they had back then.

Brett got so drunk that night that he doesn't even remember what he said or did after about three shots. He just remembers he had the worst hangover the next morning and vowed never to drink again. He never drank with Eddy after that even when Eddy coaxed him to. It was only after graduation and when he entered university, he had the courage to try drinking again and surprisingly, liked it.

.

.

"The first memory of drinking with you was pretty bad. I don't remember any of it except the headache."

Brett laughed as he downed the shot.

"But here we are, and we are legal age now. Want a shot?"