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Alberto was feeling the type of hurt that words failed to describe, something in him was cracking and light, joy and life was all spilling out of him. Heartbroken was too shallow of a word, devastated wasn’t enough.
Maybe it was better that he didn’t think about it anyways, since thinking about words meant thinking about him. Alberto didn’t know when he’d started associating him with words, the stars or the windswept seabreeze but he did. He would know the right words, he always did. It wasn’t fair. Who thought that it was a good idea to give life to this perfect human being (which was a pretty great idea) then put him in front of Alberto? (this was the not so great idea)
Alberto was but a simple man, and all he could do was yearn.
Yearn for a gaze never meant for him.
Yearn for small, simple touches that would set him aflame.
Yearning and yearning and yearning for something he could never have.
It was strange to think that just this morning he was so giddy, so damn giddy about seeing him. It was time for two of his favourite people to come back home. Only instead of two, there was a third. Unwelcome and so, so, so much better than Alberto. Parted brown hair that shone like the sun, taller, azure eyes and a face painted by angels. Smart-definitely smarter than Alberto-“from school” they’d said. This unwelcome visitor had the whole, undivided attention of him.
A perfect match.
Echoing around Alberto’s head, his heart fractured just a bit more. However, all this swirling could be dealt with in the privacy of his room later on. For now, he was expected to entertain, to perform for the cluster of three beside him. A show of the dumb, overly confident friend, the comedic relief. One who joked and talked at the expense of their soul.
So, he put on a face and pretended because nobody needed to know the inner workings of Alberto, nor did they care.
Instead, he laughed it off (wow! our baby’s all grown up now. Got a boyfriend and didn’t think to tell their poor best friend, I'm hurt, truly) and that was fine.
If Alberto cried pitifully that night with all his overwhelming feelings, that was his business and no one else’s.
It wasn’t as if Alberto expected the unknown boy to stick around for long, but he did. Soon, he became just as much of a regular expectation as Luca and Guila every time the train came back. Soon, they started saying “Luca and Gio” instead of “Luca and Alberto”. This unknown boy wasn’t unknown anymore, he was Giovanni Marchetta and he was Luca’s one and only. Alberto knew that better than anyone.
Every time they had a date, Alberto was there. Helping them get ready with care. Every time either one of them had doubts, Alberto was there. Ready with soothing words of encouragement, reminding then that the other would love anything they prepared. Every time, Alberto was there. Every step of the way.
It made what he felt so much harder.
Alberto’s feelings for Luca may have grown dulled to something unbearable, but every time he was reminded that both of them loved the other with their whole passion and being. It hurt. There was no room for him, and there never would be. It would never be “Luca and Alberto” ever again, looking at the wedding invitation in his hand just cemented that fact. Luca was happy, and that’s all that mattered. Luca was the one who pulled him out from his prison, gave him a family, everything he ever wanted was given to him by Luca.
Alberto was fine.
Who cares that he couldn’t have the one thing he wanted most? It wasn’t his in the first place and it had no need to ever be. Alberto’s traitorous heart may have kept him submerged in the same hollowness that was so empty it was almost pain for the last 9 years but it was also euphoric . Every time Luca sat with him and giggled at something he had said, those soft and fluffy early mornings, the hot burn of his skin when Luca's scales caught the moonlight during their scarce late night swims. Alberto fell in love, over and over and over again.
It was suffocating, but addictive.
It was grabbing at him, pulling him down until he would never surface again. Drowning in the endless abyss that was his adoration for Luca. So seeing Luca so happy in white absolutely choked him.
Luca’s eyes were lit up in happiness, bright and just as full of stars as the first day they met. Alberto smiled, lovestricken, as Luca’s eyes glazed over with tenderness.
Only not for him, but he’d known from the start. Still it was nice to pretend. The happy couple turned towards each other, all giddy and glowing. They looked ethereal together, high on the feeling of being newly wed. Alberto could only gaze on.
It was okay though, they made each other happy, made Luca happy and that was enough.
The tears sliding down were bittersweet. Blending in with the crowd and slipping out was easy enough.
The wedding changed nothing.
His heart still yearned for something unattainable.
He would always be Luca’s Alberto, even if Luca would never be Alberto’s.