2020 Revision

Chapter 2: Zdenko

Halfway into the party, my stomach starts churning and I can no longer get lost in the music. I spot Victor on the couch, playing some shooting video game with another guy. They both look at me as I approach, but Victor's eyes hold on mine while the other guy returns to blasting virtual bullets at virtual zombies. 

"I'm going to steal him for a second," I say. Then I realize where I recognize the guy from. His name's Parker. Victor had introduced him as a "friend from college."

"Yo, just five more minutes, Zen!" Parker exclaims, his thumbs furiously clicking at his console. "Five more minutes, then the game ends. You should join us on the next round. I'm sure there's a third player option." 

"No thanks," I mutter. "I'm no good at games." 

Victor tries standing up but Parker yanks him down. "Victor! I'm low on ammo! Shoot the damn zombies!"

A group of animated zombies move towards Parker's character. They groan, arms out, and push his character to the floor before ripping off his animated flesh. A splatter of blood appears on the screen, and right below that, the words: GAME OVER!

"No! I had it!" Parker drops his controller, burying his head into his hands. "Damn it, Victor! I had it! All you had to do was shoot!" 

Victor isn't paying much attention to Parker's rage fit. Now that there's no one to hold him down, he stands and walks to me. Just by looking in his eyes, I can see he knows something's up. He grabs my hand, softer than usual, and waits for me to speak. 

"We need to talk," I say. Even through the booming pop music, I can still hear the fear in my voice. Victor's the only one who I'm comfortable being vulnerable with. It took three months of our relationship for me to fully open up to him, but I appreciate him for sticking with me. My previous boyfriend wasn't so patient. This, and more awful experiences, have only worsened my trust issues.

"My room?" Victor asks, and I nod. 

If this party was in anyone else's house, I don't think I could have made it through more than thirty minutes without wanting to leave. I like parties, and I'd like to consider myself social, but I'm most comfortable when I'm at Victor's place. He never gets lost in the crowd, and if I ever feel anxious, I can always go into his room. 

Victor turns on the lights and closes the door behind him. He sits on his king sized bed, patting his lap so I'll sit on it. His lap alone eases the uncomfortable throbbing of my heart. 

I can still hear the music. Someone laughs, muffled. A soda can opens. 

"You want me to drive you home?" he asks me. 

"No, no." I run my hand over my hair, flicking the curls back in place. "I'm having fun." 

With a gentle hand, he moves my jaw so my head faces his. "What's the matter?"

"I think I'm scared," I say. I hate how bad I am at talking about my feelings. I can never be direct. "About tomorrow. About less than an hour from now." 

Victor sighs. This is all I've been talking to him about since the earlier days of December, so I'm not upset that he's upset.

"I'm sorry," I add. "I never shut up about this." 

"I'm not mad." 

"You're annoyed then?"

"Of course not." 

We're quiet for a second, and I want to ask him again if he's sure he's not annoyed at me, but he breaks the silence by kissing my lips. Seven months we've been together and I still get all warm inside when he kisses me. 

"I just don't like seeing you so worried," he whispers, fingers against my warm cheeks. 

"Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Zen." Another kiss. "Nothing to be worried about either." 

"What if something goes wrong?" I ask. 

"What could go wrong?"

"They're erasing my memory of everything I've ever known. What if I forget you?" 

He stops to think, making up for the lack of words by playing with my hair. "That won't happen. You love me too much."

I laugh at this--a small, relieving laugh. Then it's me who kisses him, holding the kiss for a while longer. I remember the first time we kissed. It was at my house, back when I was still straight in my parent's eyes. We had barely begun dating and Victor said a kiss could be our icebreaker. I thought about that kiss all day, all night, and I still think about it seven months later. 

We lie down on our backs, our legs entangled and our arms held. I'm gazing at his brown ceiling fan, watching the way it spins. Victor keeps it on at a low setting as a compromise because he gets warm easily but I get scared that the fan will fall when it's at its highest setting. 

"I think my parents are glad this is happening to me," I say, completely catching Victor off guard. 

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid. You can tell me."

I roll on my side so I'm facing him. "Ever since I came out to them, it's like they've gotten a new image of me." 

"Be proud of yourself for coming out at all," Victor says. "Many teens stay in the closet until they've moved out! Your parents are Croatian, and strictly traditional, yet you still had the guts to come out to them!"

I let out a sigh. "I don't think it matters who they are. What matters to them is who I am."

Victor gives me a puzzled look. 

"They think that because I'm gay, that makes me less of a man." I start to play with my fingers, realizing I'm too deep into my emotions to stop talking. "They haven't been trying to separate us, but they've been trying to change me. Getting me to watch movies with female models, buying me these...clothes that I have no interest in wearing. It's ridiculous!"

"They think being gay makes you feminine?"

"Apparently. It's idiotic of them. All I am to them is a stupid stereotype." I let go of a shaky breath and warm tears follow afterwards. "What's scary is that I know my parents, and I'm scared that they'll use my memory loss to their advantage." 

Victor's eyes widen. I don't think he's ever considered this possibility. By the look on his face, I can tell he knows the chances are high. He pulls me close, letting me cry on his shoulder. 

"I don't want to forget you, Victor," I sob. "I don't want to forget you." 

He squeezes me, plants a kiss on top of my head. "You won't." 

I pull away, wiping at my running tears. "I want you to tell me everything." 

"What?"

"If I forget, I want you to tell me everything. Every detail. Not just about us, but about the events that happened since I was born. You're so lucky to be nineteen, you know?" 

Victor smiles a small, sympathetic smile. I lean forward and kiss him. It's only now that I realize it's midnight. It's already 2020. I feel a fog in my head, but I assure myself that's the alcohol kicking in. Pushing my fear away, I kiss him again. I never would have guessed our New Year's kiss would have such a sad story behind it. 

"Can you promise me that?" I ask, a few tears escaping my eyes before Victor can stop them. "Can you promise me you'll remind me of everything?"

"I promise," he says.