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Out from beneath the deep bruise of Hollywood’s shadow, the world was a brighter place. The long fingers of Colorado’s buttes and the shallow bowl of its valleys; the glittering hills of Portland as they winked over the 257 and the lusty song of Lousiana’s swamps—Soleil had traveled to the east and back again. Out of guilt or perhaps empathy, Saorise backed each expense several times over. She even went to travel with Aleusha awhile. But nothing could linger as long as the angel of fire, Heath’s parting whisper as his heart burned out. There was nothing that could remove the imprint, nor distract from the stain of that memory.
It was only one late evening over two decades later, as the Washington rain ran over the chrome rooftop of the library that she found him. Some tables away, a young man stared. The aroma of coffee was everywhere in Seattle, but especially here amidst the cafes where vampires hid. As she gazed back, it was like violence; a grey gaze, pale as the clouds and a shy smile as he hid his expression. The sound of a heartbeat once nearly snuffed out.
He began to scratch at the paper in front of him. Soleil's eyes burned and the dark liquid posing as liquor shifted in her cup. “Only the brave or the foolish return to a world as cruel as this," she said to herself.
“That sounds nice,” he said quietly. “Is it from a play?” She'd seen him rise from his seat and draw close, but didn't dare to hope he'd stop at her table. “Ah,” she replied in apology. “I like to talk to myself. Call it a habit of mine.”
“I don’t think it’s so strange,” he whispered. That dreamy cadence was all too familiar. His voice was just the same.
“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked shyly, rustling his papers. They protruded from the book tucked under his arm. Soleil smiled. “Not at all. Please, take a seat.” He slid out of his padded jacket. His body was just as thin, if not a little taller as he folded into the chair.
“Are you new here?” He asked, gazing at her thoughtfully. Perhaps she seemed out of place. Soleil stared at him a moment. Her mind grappled with the impossible truth.
“Do you smoke?” Soleil blurted. He looked at her in alarm. “U-uh, sure. Would you like one?” He asked, fumbling in his pocket for the pack.
“Just routine questions,” she replied, taking another sip. “I figured you might, that’s all.”
“I’m Soleil,” she said, extending a hand. “Like the sun,” he replied. Above his head winked a tiny light. “It’s like I heard it in a dream.” He said.
“Maybe you did,” she replied with a softening gaze. “In dreams, anything is possible.”
“Well,” he said, blushing. “My name is Oliver. It’s nice to meet you.” As their hands touched (those same hands) she felt a welter of emotion. Soleil never wanted to let go again.
“Uh,” he replied, lost in her intensity. She shook her head. “Nice to meet you too, Oliver. Sorry—I tend to drift off.”
“Haha, me too…” He replied. The two of them sat in a kind of dreamy reverie as Soleil studied his face. He was Heath but not Heath; his skin not quite so fair, his nose straight as an arrow, but those eyes were the same. He dragged a sheepish hand through his blonde hair and suddenly, she was reminded of River. He had a similar confidence and like before, part of it was a bit of illusion. It was a glamour, in its own right.
“I’m new here,” she finally said. “Only been in Seattle a month, but I’m already liking it. In Hollywood, it’s not nearly so grey.” He chuckled. “Funny that you like it. So many people move to California from here.”
“Do you like it, Oliver?” She asked. He shifted, eyes down. It was that same thoughtful expression. “I do, yeah. Call me crazy, but there’s a lot to like.”
“No desire to go? To Hollywood I mean.” She took a sip, studying his reaction. “No way,” he replied. “Seriously? That place would eat me alive.”
No kidding.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Heath?” She asked, stomach tightening. It was a bold question, but she couldn’t help but ask. He blinked. “Sorry, haha. I’m Oliver, remember? Though Heath is a nice name.”
Soleil took another sip, doing her best to hide. Her hands were trembling. “Ah, I apologize. You just remind me of someone I used to know.”
The heat bloomed in his cheeks. She enjoyed watching him fumble. “This person… what happened? Were the two of you very close?” Her brows knit. The memory was so near, it lingered like a unhealed wound.
“We were,” she replied, pain ghosting through her eyes. “What happened?” He asked. The question was so fast, on impulse.
She paused. “He… died.” Soleil finally said. “I’m so sorry,” Oliver replied. His gaze dropped in contrition. On instinct, he slide his hand slid across the wooden table, reaching out for her. Soliel turned her palm up to lace their fingers and his heart stuttered in excitement; so close and so human. It was her dream to finally see him like this.
“He was like a comet, passing over…” Soleil rasped, eyes burning. “So bright and so full of dreams. But he made his wishes on others and so, he burned to ash.”
Oliver didn’t say anything. He only held her hand. She gazed up at him, toward a face once filled with freckles, a mouth that once bore fangs. “Are you happy, Oliver?” She asked suddenly. Her eyes were filled with tears. She might not be able to cry properly, but when she willed it it happened all the same.
“Sometimes,” he said, earnestly. It seemed he bore that same empathy as well, because his eyes welled as he spoke. “Sometimes I’m not. I love my life, but it can be so lonely. Everyone leaves and I just feel it passing by. I want to move on but… I can’t.” His eyes were contrite. “But I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to make this about me.”
“It is about you,” Soleil said gently. “It’s your life, Oliver.”
He sniffed. “But your friend…”
“My friend died because he made his wishes on others,” she repeated, tracing her thumb in light circles around the base of his index finger. “He wanted so much to go back where he was loved that he stopped living. It was the inversion of happiness. To think like that is the beginning of the end.”
He mopped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I… you’re right. It just feels like it’s so hard, you know? What are hopes and dreams if everyone keeps leaving? What does it matter if I don’t have anyone to share them with?”
“You begin again. Even when life aches like a rotting tooth, you wake up each day and start fresh.” Soleil said. She gave his hand a squeeze. “Oliver, you need you, no matter who leaves or stays behind. The small voice inside you is the person who counts on you everyday to listen. I believe he needs your help.”
Oliver looked at her as if she were the sun. Even in new skin, he bore the distant traces of the life he left behind. “I… don’t know what to say.” He rasped. “That was beyond poetic.”
“These words are your own. You just needed someone else to speak them.” The lights above his head grew brighter and the heartbeat quickened. It was like a tiny candle in the dark.
“I… I don’t have a girlfriend.” He whispered, blushing. The answer she expected. “I don’t have anyone at all.”
“Well you have you,” Soleil replied. “You also have me. Someone once said two’s company, but I only caught the reruns, so I can’t be sure.”
He chuckled. “You’re so interesting,” he replied. She flashed him a grin before remembering her fangs. “I’ve grown odder over the years, though I can’t say I was ever quite normal to start.”
At that, her phone rang. It was Saorise. Soleil rose from her seat, pressing the volume button. “Let me give you my number, Oliver.” As their hands disentangled, she could see thought flicker through his eyes. “If you give me yours, I’ll call you.”
“You’re leaving?” He asked with a slight frown. She smiled, softly. “For now. But I won’t be far.” He dithered, fishing for his phone. “If you get into a bind, I’ll come and save you so don’t be afraid to leave a message. You know, like some young adult romance novel. A pity it won’t be leaving the shelves.”
He grinned. “Heh. I’ll keep that in mind.” They pulled out their cellphones and swapped numbers, before she slid out the door into the night.
The rain pulled her dark curls into rivulets along her cheeks as she hit the cold Seattle pavement. Distant clouds tangled and shifted to obscure the smile of the moon. Soleil gazed up at the sky, willing her own rebirth. She imagined telling Saorise she found him, that he was human and at last, he was safe.
“You finally found your truth.” She whispered. Her heart was light as it’d ever been. “The water washed your ashes into the earth. Here, where the flowers grow.”