[CONTAINS: uhh stupid tension This was written all in one night, and is probably kinda bad, but at least it made ME feel things while i wrote it. Also i need a better chapter title]
The sun was moving slowly making its way down to the horizon, staying for a moment to bask the earth in orange and pink light. The humid summer air had cooled down slightly but you could still taste the heat lingering in the breeze. Zvezdelín stepped out of the bar with an unlit cigarette ready in his mouth. He leaned himself against the wall and took out his lighter. He had made a habit of not looking too much at it, lest he’d be reminded of what had been scratched into the soft metal all those years ago. How long had it been since he last heard anything about him, anyway?
He lit the cigarette and took a drag. The smoke dried out his throat and cleared his mind again.
[he goes for a walk]
[he ends up deep in thought]
As he pushed open the hole in the chain link fence, he suddenly became aware of where he was going and millions of locked away memories flooded his mind. He was tracing the exact path he had taken so many times before. The abandoned factory, where he had spent every free hour of his childhood, and where he had even illegally slept in during the last year. Before he fled to the Zone. Before he lost the one friend he had.
For old times sake
[he enters the factory]
[remembers his last years before the Zone]
[walks up the concrete staircase]
He knew that sound better than his own voice.
The padded vibrations of jumpstyle dance steps through ageing concrete.
An explosion of conflicting emotions and questions filled his head all at once.
Was it him? Was it someone else? Should he apologise again? Would he accept any more apologies?
He took another step up the stairs. His mouth felt dry.
Had he forgotten all about it? Would this just be a reminder of terrible things? Should he run away and never look back? But, what if this is his last chance to ever see him again? He grabbed the metal railing to steady himself. His whole body was buzzing with adrenaline and stress.
How would he react? Had his wounds healed? Was there anything to salvage? Would it all be for nothing?
Zvezdelin crouched down to the floor and tried to reason with himself. He took deep and slow breaths, becoming aware of himself, just as Sasha had taught him. Then he repeated the questions he and him had adopted as their manifesto.
“Do I want to?” he whispered. I would give anything.
“Do I have anything left to lose?” Nothing at all.
“Do I give a fuck about what anyone else will think?” …what will he think-
“Two out of three is enough.”
With this he stood up and took the last steps up the stairs three at a time. He arrived quickly at the roof level. He forced all the doubts away from his mind and grabbed the cold handle to the metal door leading out to the roof. His hand lingered. Should he plan what to say? Zvezdelin groaned at his own indecisiveness and pressed the handle down while pushing his entire body weight on the door.
He stumbled back out into that summer evening air. The light had shifted from pink to pure orange and gold, decorating the flat concrete. In the middle of the roof was Késha, wearing headphones and following the steps of his choreography. Legs kicking back or forward, turning and spinning in the air, all in precise order. His dark silhouette was backlit by the burning sky. His hair was shorter than before, but still long enough to fly around, following his movements. His shadow stretched across the roof, dancing in sync with him. Zvezdelin tried his best to burn every detail of the scene into his memory, so that he maybe could sustain a few more years without him. He breathed it in like smoke, drank it down like vodka, snorted it like coke, shot it up like heroin. Because however cheap and meaningless this sight might be, it was still more intoxicating and addictive than any drug.
Just as he had prepared to turn back down the stairs, Kesha’s silhouette stopped dancing. The already quiet rooftop became deafeningly silent when the thumping of Kesha’s feet disappeared. He quickly pulled off his headphones. Zvezdelin couldn’t quite see Kesha’s expression. Presumably, just as many thoughts were racing through Kesha's head, as there was in his own. Unsaid words fluttered between them, like they always had. A perfect stalemate, just like the good old days. A wave of forcibly forgotten emotions bubbled back up to the surface. It was overwhelming, destructive and stronger than ever. It broke down all imaginary walls Zvezdelin had built, like a tsunami against a sandcastle. His body ached with longing, but he forced his feet to stand still. He could see a slight change on Kesha’s face.
“Do you want me to leave?” Zvezdelin asked, looking down at the ground. He could hear Kesha moving towards him and braced himself for what would happen. But, Kesha stopped right in front of him and he felt something buzzing in the air. He carefully looked back up at his friend. The golden light shone through his friend’s hair, the stray hairs lightly flowing in the wind, like some sort of gloria. He was smiling and down his cheek came a single tear. Zvezda smiled back. Not a word was uttered, they understood each other effortlessly anyway, like they always had. Kesha grabbed the back of Zvezdelin’s neck and pressed him into a hug, letting out a sigh into his shoulder.
“No, Zvezda.” Zvezdelin melted into his friend’s chest.
“Never, ever, again.”