Just Under Two Years Later
It's summer, and Win has just finished his final year.
He's eighteen, still has a fantastic group of close friends and has received good grades for his A-Levels, meaning he could get into the University he has wanted to go to since he discovered his love for music at the beginning of year twelve, when he changed PE to Music on his options sheet.
The first song he performed in front of his class – which had to be self-written – was entitled '2gether', and when he was asked by the teacher if it was about anyone in particular, he sheepishly admitted it was about his boyfriend, whom he loved very much.
He still does.
There is not a day that goes by when he doesn't think about Bright.
------
Win hasn't seen Bright for a year.
They had tried so hard to make it work; texting or ringing each other all of the time, Skype-calling every other day... When Bright visited at Christmas after being away nearly four months, no one could even attempt at separating the two boys.
But, deep down - however much he didn't want to admit it - Win always knew it wouldn't last.
Last summer, he visited London with his Mum, Manu, Kulap to see Bright in a performance. Afterwards, Bright had explained that he would not be coming home for summer, because he had a performance nearly every weekend and rehearsals all of the time. It was also then that Bright dragged Win to the side and told him that things were not working out.
He wanted to break up.
Win reluctantly agreed to 'stay friends' – when he really wanted to yell and scream and punch something - but when Bright visited last Christmas, the younger boy didn't want to see him, simply posting a homemade disc of recordings he had made of songs Bright loved through the letterbox, along with money for the girls.
It would've hurt his heart too much to see him.
And his heart already had a pretty large puncture wound straight through it.
------
Win frowns when he sees that the heavens have opened once again.
How Win detests the unpredictable weather of Bangkok; it's freaking August, and it's throwing it down. Saint text him earlier this morning to see if he wanted to go out and play football, but now he knows it has probably been cancelled.
That's happened quite a lot recently, as if the dark clouds stuffed with rain just don't want to leave and are happy to stick around and ruin Win's summer.
Boredom. That's what Win's feeling right now; bored and lonely, as everyone else is out, and he knows that Tay and New are away on holiday together at the minute, and that Saint is more than likely with Zee now that footie's out the window.
He mopes around his room for a while, deciding to clean up a bit – hoping his mum will get off his back. Once he's collected the various items of clothing that definitely don't need washing, he opens the wardrobe and chucks them inside, planning on shutting the door quickly to stop them falling out again, when a blank disc in a clear case drops onto the carpet in front of him.
He furrows his eyebrows a little as he thinks about what it could be – he really ought to start labelling things. It's probably one of my recordings, he assumes, picking it up and flipping the case over in his hand.
When he gains no more evidence about the origin of it, he decides that now would be the perfect time to go through the pile of disks hidden in his wardrobe and sort them out.
Sitting cross-legged on his bed with his laptop in front and the basket of disks beside him, he checks each disk and writes on them in a marker. The first is a recording of 'a scrub song' he did when he was sixteen, not long after... He doesn't finish that thought and moves quickly onto the next disc.
Thirty seven discs and a whole lot of acoustic covers and photo slideshows later, Win reaches the bottom of the pile and inserts the final disc into his laptop.
Merry Christmas Win!
I decided to
He slams the laptop shut harshly, his breathing already becoming labored. How did that get in there? Reaching out to press the eject button on the disc drive, he pauses, hovering his hands above the device before opening it again, waiting for it to wake up.
The screen had paused on the same message, and Win took a deep breath before pressing play.
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To: Bright
Bright I hate the way things|
I still love you Bright ple|
God I fucking hate you, you're a bastard|
You broke my heart you dick|
Win's fingers shake from where they are suspended above the touchscreen of his phone, tears still making their way down his cheeks.
He knows he's pathetic; still hung up on a boy he broke up with over a year ago, but he just doesn't understand life without Bright; he can't make sense of it.
He has known Bright since forever, and now he's gone... Win just doesn't know how to carry on. Birthday candles and wishing wells would have been wasted on wishes to just start it all over again.
Biting his lip for about the tenth time, deletes all that he has typed and he types something out which he thinks might be okay.
To: Bright
Bright, I would love to catch up sometime.
If you are up for it, let me know :) – Win
(Win crosses his fingers as he presses 'send'.)
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gotta give some drama LOL
hope you are liking it ♡
the book will be completed soon :)
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From Day 1 ❦ BrightWin ✔
Fanfiction(Completed ✔) Where Win has known Bright from his Day 1. -------- 2gether the series / Still 2gether A BrightWin fanfiction
