The Year That Was

This Is The Road to Ruin, and We're Starting at the End

Win is still in deep sleep Bright’s bed. Bright had slept on the couch that night. He looks steadily on the image before him, the one that brings him back to the year that was. Everything was sort of the same, except for the part where Win’s face crumples into a painfully silent cry. Low mumbles of incoherent words, until bright realizes what win was saying. “Please, don’t.”

Two little words he remembers he had been saying since he was like two or something. Extremely plain, yet coming from Win, it was coated in nothing but hurt. Those were the very last words bright had heard from him over the phone that Sunday night thousands of moons ago.

He eases on his bed, leaving a little space between them. He should not be doing anything to Win, but Bright caresses his face anyway. Win shuffles into him subconsciously and so he lets him go. “Win.”

Win is taken aback when he wakes up, what with Bright just inches away from him.

“I made breakfast.”

“Oh, thanks.” Win goes after him, his stomach tumbling as he sees the table, Sunny side up done just the way he liked them. Paired with ice coffee, of course. “You already ate?

“Uhm, yeah.” He had not. The idea of him hurting Win killed his appetite. “Would you like to listen to something?”

“No, it’s okay, Br—”

Bright already sitting across Win, guitar cradled up on his thighs. “You never got to listen last night.”

Bright did not even singing the words, yet Win knows the song all too well. He had played the thing on repeat for at least until his ears went numb. Memorized every little detail about the song, every scene from that video. It’s a song about love and destiny and right now, Win just wants nothing but to smack Bright with that stupid guitar. “What the hell are you doing, Bright?”

Bright is fully aware what Win is asking about, but he brushes it off. “I’m just trying to sing, Win.”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Win cautions him. “Stop it.”

“Fine.” Bright scoffs and places his guitar on the side. “What is your problem anyway?”

“You are being a total dick, that’s what!” Win is on his feet, furious.

“Excuse me? That’s big for someone who just spent the night in my place,” Bright chuckles sarcastically.

“You know what, Gun was right. I should not have come at all.” Win was fuming by now, and he powers through just to make sure Bright won’t see any of his tears.

Hearing Win’s words pissed Bright more than ever. He had left before because of what Gun had said, and now he’s telling Win things. “Gun? God, that fag just never stops!” Even Bright was surprised at what he just said.

Win loses it as he heard the words came out of Bright. He looks Bright in the eyes, and in his softest voice he sighs, “fuck you.”

Bright had been hurt many times before. But nothing pained him more than what he heard just now, looking at Win’s back who is heading towards his doorstop. Bright summons up the courage to go after Win and hug him from behind.

“Win,” Bright sighs, resting his forehead on Win’s nape, making him freeze in his steps. “I’m sorry.”

Win fights every urge to turn around and embrace Bright back. “Let me go.”

“Please, don’t.” Bright does not see it, but he can tell Win is crying. “We can go back to those days, us.”

“This was a mistake. Everything was a mistake.” Win himself can feel the wetness on his back as Bright’s tears fall nonstop. “Let’s just admit it. We both know we’d regret it from the start.”