HIM .. Joe Goldberg

CHARLIE

WOULD YOU EVER FORGET THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW YOUR GOD?

Charlie is the only man who threatens to come before you, Joe. Not even my father could provide more influence than Charlie could, and he was damned good before he went and killed himself. Charlie is a short man, scruffy, almost like a terrier. He has the widest pair of eyes anyone ever had, even compared to yours, Joe, and your adorable cartoon gaze. Charlie sees all, his eyes are one of his most important assets. I saw his eyes way before I saw his intention, and by then it was too late.

Charlie likes music. Rock, in particular. He constantly has The Doors or The Beatles or The Rolling Stones playing, album repeated after album after album. Sometimes he'll play Pink Floyd, that was always my favorite.

He says that music is more important than anything else, it describes and creates changes that influence the globe. Rock made people rebel, rap made people challenge authority. It can bring about joy or pain, tears and laughter. Music, Charlie says, is the most important gift we were ever granted.

Don't think bad of me by this story, Joe, but I met Charlie when I was drunk. It was raining outside, I was in the subway to escape the weather. I knew he was high when he approached me, but his initial words were what drew me in. He was handsome, he was alluring (not more than you, of course). I liked the sound of his voice, even while he was fucked up. It was almost like a song to my intoxicated ears, the first pleasant noise since the Uber's radio on my way to the bar, playing Jesus Christ Superstar. It was my mom's favorite album, she showed me all of the songs when I was eight. My dad laughed during it, saying it was all a bunch of hypnotizing bullshit. My mom would turn up the volume and test her vocals with Everything's Alright.

Charlie leaned forward, smile wide. To the date, he has two silver teeth on the side of his mouth. Fake teeth, he could never give up chewing tobacco, even when the threat of cancer shook the small congregation he brought together. Charlie's face was childlike, innocent. He was never an intimidating man, even when he lost his temper, which was more often than anyone would imagine coming from a prophet. His terror was different, more horrific than brute strength—it was psychological. His pain hurt more than Satan's punishment, he tore straight through the flesh and into the soul. Mira will always be afraid because of the things Charlie put her through as a young teenager.

Of course, at the time, I knew none of this, and Charlie pulled at my heart, and I assumed he'd be a boy that couldn't hurt me even if he tried. I thought I was too wise at that point, suffering so much already. He looked young, undeveloped. Immature. He was so small! So childlike, when he talked I saw excitement for the topic although he always made sure to pause for me to reply, wanting to hear my opinion. My thoughts, like they were truly important. I never had that before, Joe, much less with a man. A loyal friend judging by his easygoing expression. He didn't tower over me, his voice was higher pitched than a usual man's, and I felt like he was more of a brother than a predator. "People are strange." He said, and he chuckled afterwards.

How simple! How true! People are strange, we ourselves are truly strange. I was sitting by the tracks, my legs hanging over the yellow line. Charlie held out his hand. His smile never left his face. "C'mere, babe. Before you get yourself killed." He laughed again, and I thought it was absolutely adorable.

"Only conformist morons call people babe," I spat. At the time, I would have never expected much from a man. Dad just died, Nicki was with you, nothing was positive. "What? Is that your only term for endearment?" I was drunk. I wanted to test someone—a male. I wanted to feel in control, I wanted things to go my way for once. I assumed he was easy. Even when I follow him out, I thought that I was strong enough to take the reins of my future. How stupid I was. Men truly do rule the world, I just wish I knew that sooner. It would have saved me a lot of trouble, Joe. A lot.