Unforgettable

A bench near the river Tyne

It was winter, but almost spring beginning. The last snow melted and revealed the fresh green grass and the first snowdrops. Two teenage boys, wrapped up in warm winter coats, were sitting on a bench near the river Tyne, where they could have an amazing view over the water. "Fancy seeing the next match together as well?", the taller one of them asked. The other boy beamed at him. "You don't need to ask twice! But this time I'll treat you, no buts", he replied, ignoring the other boys attempt to protest. "You treated me last time, now it's my turn. That's how a relationship works!" This caused his friend to giggle. "Oh, so we're in a relationship now?", he teased. Completely serious, his smaller friend nodded. "Of course we are, what did you think, love?", he joked. The taller one just laughed harder and started to nudge his friend in the side. Mentioned boy started to flinch and to chuckle. "Stop that! Stop that, Ant, I'm ticklish!" Just as the words left his mouth he wished he had never spoken them. Because Ant started grinning mischieviously now and proceed to tickle him until they both could barely breathe because they were laughing so much. "You are horrible!", the smaller boy gasped, resting his head on his taller friends shoulder. The boy called Ant smiled. "Oh, I know that", he answered. They both looked down onto the river that their village was named after. "You know what? I think, big days are coming for us, Dec."

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Two young men were sitting on a bench near the river Tyne, looking down onto the water, both in comfortable silence. Birds were singing and the wind was rippling through the trees around. "Do you think this was a good idea?", the slightly older man asked after a while remaining quiet. His friend looked at him. "What do you mean? Starting at SM:tv? I think so. You have doubts?" His friend bit his lip. "Not really, no. I mean, I'm sure that'll be great fun and all. But... I don't know if we're made to be TV-presenters, you know? Wasn't it our dream to be actors some day?" The taller Geordie chuckled. "I never dreamed of being an actor, Dec, that was just you! And besides - everything's better than the "music career", isn't it?" The man named Dec started to laugh. "Fair enough", he stated. "No, but seriousely", his friend turned serious again, "we are still young, aren't we? Why don't we try something new? Maybe it's just the thing we want to do for the rest of our lives." Dec nodded, gaze fixed on the river. "Yeah, you might be right." He rested his head on his taller friends shoulder. "I think, it'll be fine, as long as we do it together, Ant."

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"I just cannot believe it!" Two excited men were sitting on a bench, having a great view over the river Tyne, both bursting with amazement. "Our own show, can you imagine? Our own show, on ITV1! Isn't that amazing?" The smaller man continued rambling and painting visions of how their show could probably look like while the other one was just sitting there, enjoying the view over the water and trying to understand everything. He couldn't quite believe his luck - after presenting two of the most liked shows on British television, he and his best friend would eventually have their completely own show. The taller man smiled at his completely excited friend and laughed. "Take some breaths, will ya? Can't have you choking right now, I still need you, you know?" The smaller one stopped mid-sentence and giggled. "Fine, fine!", he said, tilting his head backwards so he face the blue sky before resting it on his best friends shoulders. "Just imagine this... the whole nation watching Ant and Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway!"

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The wind was blowing a bit too hard to still call it gentle around the bench near the river Tyne. Causing the two individuals sitting on it to shiver, the breeze continued its journey over the water, through the trees until it disappeared, another gust of wind following right afterwards. The rough, cold fingers of the nature were wiping away the tears from the face of one man, but the tears continued coming as soon as they had been wiped away. Except of the tears, there was no sign of the man crying. No sobs, no hitching breaths, no wet sniffles. Just tears, hot and painful making their way down the slightly flushed cheeks, disappearing somewhere in his neck. The man to his right didn't say anything. He had one arm placed on the backrest ot the bench, leaving enough space between the arm and the other man's back to not press him but still close enough to offer comfort. Over the years, they had found their war to communicate without saying a word. Now, the slightly smaller man turned his tear-stained face towards his friend, biting his lip. Exhaustion, despair, pain, all these emotions were written in his eyes, and the strong demand to have some pain taken away. His friend, understanding the signal, now closed the gap between their bodies, pulling his smaller friend close and making his head rest on his shoulder. Stroking his arm and shoulder in a steady rhythm, he didn't need to say anything. There was nothing to say. The pain and the grief was hovering around the duo like fog, locking out the sun, the warmth, the happiness. The slightly smaller man raised his head from his best friend's shoulder now, looking directly into his eyes, and whispered: "I just can't believe he's gone. I don't feel like it. I mean, of course, we've had the... the f-funeral today" - at this point, his voice started to break - "and I'm kinda crying nonstop today but... I still think... I still feel like... he's gonna... he'll come back and... and to know that he won't, this is just... this is..." "This is horribly painful", completed the man beside him quietly. He pressed his eyes shut and nodded, another wave of pain washing over him.