Work Text:
I can see you standing, honey
With his arms around your body
Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all
And it took you five whole minutes
To pack us up and leave me with it
Holdin' all this love out here in the hall
The lights are bright, almost blinding, when he sees him again. He takes a deep breath and suddenly, the years from before feel like yesterday. And, if he closes his eyes right now, he will go back to that beautiful place, his haven, his sanctuary--to their home. He will return to meet the person that used to stand high on his pedestal. He is here, right across the hall, and right there in front of him. And if he takes a few steps forward, he can feel the warmth of his gaze again.
But, there is always a but in every thought of process, and this time isn’t an exception as his feet hesitate, locked down to the ground and his eyes are watching him closely. Another pair of arms are slinking around that waist that once found home in his arm. It fits. They fit .
And then, he hears it–his laughter imbues in each sentence, syllable by syllable, and the same smile, radiating like the sun on midday, burning and scintillating.
He used to make him laugh. He was the reason for that sound, used to be–used to be proud of it, with fingers ready at the sides to touch the sensitive spots that he knew would evoke laughter. That used to be him.
Max holds his breath, as he watches from afar.
And he goes back there, to that one cold day. He doesn’t remember the time, or the day, or the year. He doesn’t remember if the sun was high up in the sky. But, it was cold, freezing, frigid, and he couldn’t feel himself. And, he goes back, remembering the last memory of him–of that same silhouette walking away, luggage in tow, and the briefest smile that was bidding him goodbye with the click of the door.
And, he glances at his hand, unconsciously finding the light tan on his ring finger–the weight gone from his burden, tucked away in the third drawer of his night-stand, underneath all those old pictures and memories that remain untouched. The last time he sees it, the glint of the metal has faded, the surface scratched and dulled from years of uncare.
He touches the ghost of the ring remaining on the skin, remembering the joy and regret that comes with it.
I think I've seen this film before
And I didn't like the ending
He breathes out, turning his back and walks out the door. It’s cold.
You're not my homeland anymore
Each step away is heavy–his chest is heavy and heaving and dragging like an anchor on the seabed. But, he doesn’t have the permit to stop, not anymore.
He moves forward, despite the act, potentially, can tear him apart.
So what am I defending now?
Max closes his eyes, trying to get rid of the picture from before. He hastens his steps, ignoring the flood of people that passes by, and he keeps walking until the silence warms him again. Tul’s smiles and laughters, that once were his. Now, it belongs to another.
You were my town
Now I'm in exile, seein' you out
Slowly, he erases it, to forget that once, it was his joy and comfort and his to protect.
Now, it is just an old memory.
And, he forgets.
I think I've seen this film before
And, he remembers to breathe again.
I can see you starin', honey
Like he's just your understudy
Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me
“Babe, you okay?”
Tul blinks, as the worried eyes bring him back to the function hall. His boyfriend gives a squeeze, prompting him to move away to a secluded spot. They walk to the corner away from prying ears, and Tul takes a deep breath. Never, in a million chances, he thinks that he would meet him again under these circumstances. But, he did.
The moment Max turned his back, those familiar, awfully familiar broad lines that used to be his comfort on grey, cloudy days. His fingers have memorised the slope of the land, from the too many journeys exploring the terrority. It was his, once upon a time ago.
He saw him, when Max looked away, and Tul saw him, looking down and touching his finger. And, he knows.
And, then he saw him turning away. And, he let him, let him walk away without acknowledging each other, without saying anything, and let him go away. As how he’d let him walk out the door years ago. They are strangers now, and they can’t be more than that. He has had his chance before, and he has given him so many chances. Too many.
Second, third, and hundredth chances
Balancin' on breaking branches
Those eyes add insult to injury
The desolate silhouette is a remainder of the things that they lost.
They have had their story, years back, and he had no intention to create a continuation. Now, it is an old memory that has an ending.
I think I've seen this film before
And I didn't like the ending
He has a new story to write. A new ending to create–one that he wants with the man standing beside him now.
The ache in his heart is still there, when he remembers the bittersweet memories of his past, and remembers all the cold food and distant chatters that he spent waiting at the table.
And, he remembers waiting, for a long time and looking at the hallway, and still waiting until he couldn’t do it anymore.
I'm not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?
You were my crown
Now I'm in exile, seein' you out
I think I've seen this film before
Tul takes a deep breath and counts until three. The door stays closed and he isn’t coming back.
He stares at the closed door.
It stays that way.
So I'm leavin' out the side door
All this time
Never learned to read my mind
“Hey, should we do something for the weekend?” Tul asked, hopeful as he looked at the calendar on his phone’s screen. Hoping that Max would agree for a short vacation.
Beside him, Max hummed, still too busy on his phone, still too busy reading emails, still too busy to look at him.
“Max?”
Max looked up, eyes wide. “Yeah?”
Tul shook his head. “What do you want for dinner?”
Didn't even hear me out
“Tul, let’s go to the beach.”
Tul smiled, tilting his head in curiosity. “What’s up?”
Max gasped. “Don’t tell me you forgot our anniversary?”
Tul laughed.
“Let’s go, this weekend to the beach.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”
Max grinned, kissing him. “Okay, I’ll give you two seconds.”
“Max.”
“Two. Okay, so yes?”
Tul chuckled. “Fine.”
You never turned things around
“You forgot.”
Max slid on the couch, cozying up to Tul. “I’m sorry. There’s a meeting and I really can’t get away.”
He pushed him away. “It’s not just once, Max.”
“Tul.”
“If I can make time for you, why can’t you?” Tul said, holding himself from breaking down. "You do this all the time."
Max sighed. "It's work. I can't just leave."
"We planned this for months, Max." Tul pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, dejected at how things had turned out. "Months."
“We can just go now if you want to so much.” Max groaned, carding his hair in frustration. “Why are you so upset?”
"Fine." Tul got up and left the room.
I gave so many signs
Max
S orry, I can’t make it. Just order anything and put it on my card.
I’ll make it up to you.
Tul sighed as he read the text for the umpteenth time before finally deleting it and putting his phone on silent. He looked around, signalled for the waiter as he threw the napkin aside. It was too noisy here. His ears hurted. And the waiter came, with the professional smile that was hoping he would finally order in the end.
He left without ordering anything.
…so many signs
And, the next day, they continued their life as usual.
You didn't even see the signs
They didn’t talk about it. Along with so many other things.
So many signs
Max remembered when he wished and wished again for the time to stop. To just stop and let them be trapped in the paradoxical rift of reality. To have more time, to still clung onto that sliver of hope before fate forced him to let go.
“I’m sorry,” Tul said.
I think I've seen this film before
He stared into the depth of the chocolate ocean that he loved so much, meeting the familiar twinkles of light reflecting against the glassy orbs. It should be his Tul but the person in front of him right now was a stranger. He wasn’t his boyfriend Tul--wasn’t the Tul that he knew. He knew the signs were there but he chose to close his eyes--to still laid his body in the mist of denial.
Max dropped his head, taking a deep breath in, trying to stop the pain from taking over. He thought they could make this work. If it was Tul, he would make it work. Even if Tul made mistakes, again and again, he would greet him with open arms. All the meaningless fights, cold shoulders, and silence that was cornering in their home far too often; he could bear them all. He just didn’t want them to come to this point. He was adamant to make it work. To protect what’s left. He didn’t want to ruin them, not if it was them, he couldn’t.
“Why?” he asked, because that was the only thing that he could do.
And I didn't like the ending
Tul let out a huge sigh, eyes looking at the empty space behind him, the twinkle lost to something akin towards desolation, the familiar spark that Max loved so much lost without a trace. Come back, he wanted to yell at those iries. Shine again, please. He couldn’t bear to look at those diminished sparkles. The room was tense, suffocating, and all Max wanted to do was to wake up from this nightmare and back to the reality where everything was fine and Tul was sleeping soundly in his arms.
“Max,” Tul said, fiddling with his fingers. “We can’t go on any longer.”
You're not my homeland anymore
“Tul, please.”
So what am I defending now?
“Max.”
You were my town
“I love you, Tul.”
Now I'm in exile, seein' you out
"I'm sorry."
I think I've seen this film before
He smiled, trying to–he didn’t know why the fucking hell was he is smiling right now.
So I'm leavin' out the side door
The door closed. Clink . And, they didn’t remember how to breathe after that.
All this time
We always walked a very thin line
“Are you sure about Tul, Max?”
His friend looked at him, eyes heavy with concern. Max laughed, thinking about things at home. It wasn’t ideal for him at the moment. He was starting his business. He needed to make money. He needed to make it a success. He couldn’t weep around just because one of his investors backed out. His dad was in the hospital for god sake. Sick with a terminal illness. He needed to make money. He needed to make their life easier. He needed it.
He couldn’t be weak.
You didn't even hear me out
“You have to talk to him about your dad, about your situation.”
Max shook his head. He couldn’t, his pride won’t allow him to do that, because he knew that any pride he had left would crumble down the second Tul knew about it. Tul would offer to help him–no, Tul would help him without hesitation, and he would say that it’s just money, it isn’t a big deal, and he won’t be able to refuse him. Because it’s Tul.
They were nothing compared to Max. Tul would say that.
It's just money, he would say.
And, he would shatter. His pride would crumble–his worthless pride that was keeping him up.
“It’s Tul, he would understand.”
I never learned to read your mind
Max laughed, bitterly, gulping down the last remnants of beer. “He would.” He crumpled the empty can. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? He will easily give the money to me. Throw it away like it’s nothing.”
“Max.”
“It’s like a reminder…that I can never.” Max sighed, defeated, weary, and so, so tired. “Would never stand on the same ground as him.”
I couldn't turn things around
“I will,” Max said further, “make his life miserable, sooner or later.”
'Cause you never gave a warning sign
“We both would be unhappy if we go on with this…I don’t know, us. And...” Max said. “I don’t want to end up regretting loving him later.”
His friend stared at him, and silence filled in the time, one and two and three four and five, and the clock ticked, completing a full circle.
“Are you regretting your decision now?”
Max took a deep breath, and it still hurt. But, he said, smiling under the lone moon, despite everything, “no.”
I couldn't turn things around
Max stood frozen. Silent, as Tul removed his ring. And, that was it, he thought.
I couldn't turn things around
Tul put the ring on the table and he couldn’t make himself look at Max.
“Bye, Max,” Tul said and left.
And.
Click.
'Cause you never gave a warning sign
You never gave a warning sign
And, that was their ending.
The end.
I think I've seen this film before