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“Did you hear they’re engaged?”
A simple question, barely caught his ear. Ben Hope worked semi-tirelessly at his uni cafe and often caught whiffs of Kent’s gossip. Maybe he didn’t get into the big London schools he’d hoped for but going to uni in his hometown kept rent costs at bay while he continued living with his parents, even after his recent graduation. His cafe job gave him two things he loved: spending money and dirt on the people he knew.
Most people didn’t realize how many conversations baristas heard and digested on a daily basis, especially the most scandalous ones. And those juicy morsels of spilled tea– metaphorical, not physical– were like an early Christmas gift.
“Yeah, I heard. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, they’ve been together for ages.”
An engagement and potential wedding with heavy social implications? Now he was interested, keeping his ears sharply focused as he mixed yet another iced chai latte.
“From what I heard, most people are just caught up by how young they both are. I mean, Charlie just turned twenty, like, a few weeks ago.”
Charlie? Ben’s head practically whipped in the direction of the conversation at the mention of his ex-boyfriend’s name. Charlie. Charlie Spring? Engaged? To who? It had to be Nick Nelson, right? Who knows, perhaps it’s another Charlie– a different Charlie. Besides, there was no way Charlie Spring was already twenty. Well, maybe, Ben was already twenty-one, nearly twenty-two.
He kept listening, his eyes laser-focused on the gossiping patrons. He didn’t quite know exactly their names but recognized their faces as members of the Truham rugby team of old and a few girls from Higgs.
“I don’t really think age matters, to be honest. I mean they’ve been together for what- five years at least? Sometimes you just know,” one of the boys continued.
“That’s fair, I mean my grandparents on my mum’s side got hitched at nineteen or something after knowing each other for three months, and they’re still married,” a girl replied.
“Exactly. I’m honestly kind of happy for both of them. And I’ve seen the proposal videos all over Insta, Nick made a really touching gesture, I might honestly take notes.”
Ben’s head was done in, it took everything in him not to pester customers by asking who they were speaking of. Instead, Ben took a break from behind the counter, sneaking off to the loo and whipping out his phone.
He opened Instagram and switched to his second account, being that he was blocked by both Nick and Charlie on his original, and searched for Nick’s account. Pinned right at the top was a video recorded by… whoever. The semi-shaky footage showed Nick and Charlie on a pier overlooking a large lake. The sun was setting, and it was full golden hour, illuminating the couple in heavenly light.
Ben watched with a pit in his stomach as Nick got down on one knee and moments after, Charlie gave an emphatic nod and verbal confirmation. The video ended with a kiss by the happy couple and cheering behind the camera before the whole thing looped again.
Ben felt sick. Charlie was engaged. Charlie was engaged to Nick Nelson. That could have been him. He could’ve been the one who proposed to Charlie if things were different. If Charlie hadn’t gotten over sensitive and if Nick Nelson hadn’t gone and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.
Fuck this.
Ben shoved his phone back in his pocket and went back to work, hearing the customers prattle on about who’s cheating on who, and what happened at that party last night, and how Nick and Charlie were perfect together and hopefully invitations for the big day would arrive in the post soon.
Ben thought it was all so… idiotic.
...
It had been nearly seven years since Nick and Charlie tied the knot, beginning a trend for many in their age group. Ben watched many of his old friends and schoolmates get married; Christian McBride, Harry Greene, Tori Spring (surprisingly), Tara Jones and Darcy Olssen (to each other), James McEwan, Imogen Heaney, and the list goes on.
Ben only got more and more bitter with each engagement post on social media, followed up with a wedding day post anywhere from 6-18 months later. Some weddings were more painful to see followed through than others, none quite so painful as what Ben felt was the ridiculous and borderline disgusting unification of the “Nelson-Springs”.
Ben hoped he would have his turn as girlfriends, and a few down-low boyfriends came and went, but nothing would satisfy. It got to a point where he was desperate to just find someone and settle down.
Ben had kept some contact with his old Truham friends, at least the ones that hadn’t turned all “social justice warrior” between Year 11 and Year 12 that is. He saw a few get engaged and even married but some were still single and that was encouraging at least.
As a teenager, Ben Hope never expected his life to be here. To be on the edge of twenty-nine, his thirties so closely on the horizon. One failed relationship after the next, remaining more or less single through every turn. Still living with his parents because his university degree never led to job offers and what he made as a manager at the cafe could never allow him to afford his own flat, not with his spending habits, that is.
So no, Ben Hope was not so hopeful that things would turn around. But at least he still had his old Truham friends. He felt on top of the world when he was with them– realizing all the time he felt more strongly about the friendship than they did. Still, it was something.
During one of their get-togethers at Cole Turner’s house, which was becoming few and far between, the painful reminder of lost love was brought up.
“Did you hear that Charlie Spring made an album, like a proper record? At least a digital one, apparently it has over three million hits on Spotify,” said Alex Sallow, a friend so old it’s difficult for Ben to remember what he exactly likes about him.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ben cut in, hating the praise for his ex being thrown around, “It’s not like it’s Charlie’s Album . He just lucked into a band that made decent music and an attractive female lead singer. Besides, teenagers go mental for a diversity circus.”
“What does that mean?” Cole asked, unsure of the resentment in Ben’s voice.
“Diversity circus- think about it. They got a gay drummer, a black female lead singer who’s easy on the eyes and plays guitar, not to mention the bassist who’s like a triple minority or something,” Ben explained, not caring how uncouth he sounded.
“You sure know a lot about a band you don’t like,” Harry Greene shot from across the room, shutting Ben down instantly.
“Anyway,” Alex pressed, wanting to alter the subject, “I think it’s cool that we know someone semi-famous, you know? I always thought Nick Nelson would be the notable one back in the day. Like he could’ve gone proper professional with rugby.”
“Still, I’m sure he’s happy as a primary school teacher, and he’s definitely got to be proud of Charlie,” Cole replied, nonchalantly sipping his drink.
Ben could feel himself short-circuit; while they were mostly none the wiser on his history with Nick and Charlie it still stung to hear them praise those two so casually. God, he hated this so much, he hated them. “Well, I’m surprised they’ve even been together this long, like seriously I never thought they were right together. Maybe this newfound fame will be grounds for newfound divorce.”
“Are you just always wishing the worst for people or something?” Cole questioned, his face turning sour as he grew tired of entertaining Ben’s outbursts of hatred.
“Yeah, I really don’t understand this resentment, Ben, we’re like almost thirty, what are you on about?” Alex dug in, Ben really felt isolated now.
“I’m just saying, I still have my doubts about the two of them working together,” Ben defended, bile rising in his throat with panic.
“Give it a rest, man. Why do you care, you haven’t spoken to either one of them in over ten years,” Harry commented, looking visibly annoyed as well.
“And you have?” Ben shot back, hoping to shut them all up.
“Yes,” Harry said, too quickly for Ben’s liking, “I spoke to Nick the other day, I was visiting my sister up in Manchester and my niece just so happens to be one of Nelson’s students in Year 1. I picked her up after school and said hello, caught up a bit. He and Charlie have two dogs and are looking into starting a family together. So trust me, they are doing well.”
Ben had nothing else to say then, nor the rest of the night. He silently sipped on his beers as he watched his friends enjoy their evening without him being truly present.
Not only does Charlie get a husband and a home out of Kent, but fame and notoriety, and a potential family too. Where does it end? When was it Ben’s turn to be happy and get what wanted from life instead of watching everyone around him move on while he stayed there? Was this what he amounted to? Was this all he would amount to?
...
Some years had passed since the last time Ben had heard anything new about Nick and Charlie. Not that he didn’t attempt to keep tabs on social media, but they were very private individuals. Ben’s real-world connection dwindled, with his old school friends moving away from him over time. Turns out a “bitter vibe killer” was not the kind of individual that men in their thirties wanted to be around.
So Ben hadn’t heard much, but why did he care? His life was his own without Nick and Charlie. He still had his home-- well his parents' home, but his father assured him it would be his when they would pass on. And Ben still had his job at the cafe, though he was demoted back down to barista because there were several complaints about his management style.
Who was he kidding? Sure, Ben had a life but not the one he wanted for himself. Always broke, always unaccomplished, always alone; it was pathetic. Ben Hope had yet to find love, the traction he used to have on Tinder, Bumble, and even Grinder had dissipated almost entirely.
He couldn’t be the only person whose life amounted to… something unexpected, right? It’s just not fair-- and there’s nothing he could do about it.
Ben sat on his couch, per usual, pondering it all. The TV played a rerun of some comedy show he can’t even try to follow. Taking a sip of his mixed drink that was more vodka than mixer, he grabbed the remote, looking through the channel guide.
The Oscars broadcast appeared among the single-digit channel options; could be a nice distraction, not that Ben really watched any movies this past year.
He clicked over just in time for the best-supporting actress category to be announced. Ben sipped his drink more, practically nursing it as some actress in some dress made a boring speech of gratitude for her newly appointed golden man statue.
Ben’s mind wandered as each category got called between extended commercial breaks. He half paid attention as the in memoriam flicked through the newly deceased celebrities from the past year. He can’t imagine caring less than he did right now. That’s what that feeling is, right?
He watched as a nearly middle-aged Olivia Rodrigo approached the microphone, declaring that she was there to announce the category for best composer for a movie musical. Who knew that was a category they even televised?
The usual nominees were named with cutaways to them in their seats- Lin Manuel Miranda for some Disney flick, Benj Pasek and Justin Paul for whatever their project was, Stevie Nicks for her film adaptation of her life, and Charlie Nelson-Spring for some new work Ben had never heard of.
Wait! Charlie Spring? His Charlie Spring? Nominated for an Oscar? There was no way-- Ben assured himself that was not a possibility. But the camera cutaway showed a well-aged version of the boy he once knew, smiling and clapping, with a thirtysomething Nick Nelson by his side.
His old secondary school fling winning an Oscar was certainly well above his expectations. He knew Charlie played the drums and was in that band for a while but Ben didn’t know Charlie was capable of composing. Especially not an Oscar-nominated composition.
His mind raced, he could see Olivia Rodrigo opening the envelope and smiling. Please let it be anyone other than Charlie. Ben needed so desperately to see him bow his head in shame and clap for someone else- he couldn’t bare see Charlie win one more time.
“...Charlie Nelson-Spring!” came victoriously from the TV speaker.
“For fuck’s sake!” Ben yelled uncontrollably, watching with disdain as Charlie’s face on the screen gleamed bright, leaning over and kissing Nick before strolling to the stage. Ben couldn’t help but think how arrogant Charlie looked.
Charlie’s acceptance speech was an agonizing 90-seconds of brown-nosing, in Ben’s opinion. Filled with “I’d like to thank XYZ” and “Nick, my dear husband, I love you so much” and “Alice, my sweet baby, I promise I’ll be home to tuck you in tonight”. The ending quote Ben did not expect in the slightest.
He can only assume Alice is the name of Charlie’s daughter. Charlie’s daughter with Nick– this just gets better and better.
...
When Ben Hope was seventeen, people often asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. Ben always said he wanted to be successful, not knowing exactly what career that would entail but he wanted to be established in whatever it was. He wanted to be rich, happily married, and a father even.
Life, of course, is a much different journey than a person’s plans. After a useless university degree that amounted to nothing but wasted time, Ben Hope was a perpetual barista/ second job hopper.
At thirty-seven years old, Ben found himself as a lifeless man in a lifeless life. After being forced out of his parents' home by his older siblings following the placement of his parents in the care of an elderly facility, Ben finally moved into his own flat. A small, measly studio apartment above sat above a foreign grocery store, in a less than desirable side of town.
At least the rent was low, which allowed him to shop and spend most of his time in the area of Kent he grew up in. All his grocery shopping, clothes shopping, and occasional one-night stands were held within a five-kilometer radius of his childhood home, for comfort.
On another typical December Thursday, Ben pushed his trolley idly through abundantly capitalist selections of Big Tesco. He reached for his typical weekly choices– pre-made meals, bread that would go bad before he finished it, a case of Ribena for nostalgia, a box of red wine to fill the empty Ribena bottles with.
“Daddy!” Ben heard the voice of a little girl from across the aisle. “Daddy, can we buy this for Nathan?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think your brother wants a barbie doll, at least not yet,” he heard the girl’s father call back. The voice was soft and nurturing but incredibly familiar. Looking up, he saw none other than Charlie Spring- Oscar-winning composer, well-known musician, hometown hero, and ex-whatever of Ben Hope.
Charlie Spring still kept a slim figure, but he was firmer now. His hair was still dark and curly but styled well and kept short. A pair of black specs sat at the end of his nose and what appeared to be a baby was strapped to his chest.
“Give him time though,” Charlie continued, “He’s only five months old now. I’m sure this time next year Father Christmas will bring all kinds of toys.”
“Can we get it still? Maybe for Uncle Oliver?” the little girl pleaded. Ben let his eyes gaze upon her, not seeing her face at all as her back was to him. Her hair was long and wavy with the same vibrant red as Nick Nelson’s hair. This had to be the Alice that was mentioned in that Oscar speech of Charlie’s a few years back.
“Alice,” a playfully stern voice came from Nick, who aged almost as well as Charlie. His back had been turned to Ben as he picked through the cuts of chicken, causing him to not be noticed by Ben at first. “I’m sure Granny has plenty of surprises waiting for you at her house. And Father Christmas is arriving in just a few days with lots of new toys. Can you hold off a little longer, I’m sure there are plenty of dolls to be had.”
It was like the Twilight Zone, there was no way Ben could’ve witnessed this. That time in his life when he saw Nick and Charlie so plainly in front of his eyes was over. But here they were- well into their thirties, parenting their children in a grocer’s.
“But I want this one, Daddy,” the girl pleaded more, “I’ve already taken her off the shelf, she’ll feel bad if I put her back when she thought she made a friend.”
“What if we buy this doll tonight and donate it to another little girl to have Christmas, would that be okay?” Charlie bargained, each word reminded Ben of the boy he once knew.
“That would be okay!” the girl agreed cheerily, placing the doll in the trolley Charlie was pushing.
“My sweet girl!” Nick praised sweeping Alice in his arms, “You have the best heart.” He kissed her on the cheek with a puff of air, making her laugh and smile. It was the sweetest giggle Ben had heard in years.
Finally seeing her face, Ben could see the girl couldn’t have been older than five. He studied them another moment before his lingering eyes caught the attention of the child.
“Daddy,” Alice began, raising a hand and pointing her finger to Ben, “Who’s that man?”
Ben’s heart sank as Nick and Charlie’s heads shot up, giving Ben a cautiously curious look. Nick just stared perplexed, unable to recognize him, but Charlie knew right away.
“No one darling,” he assured, his eyes locked with Ben as he said it, “No one at all.”
Charlie looked away, pushing the trolley forward as he and his family continued their stride. Ben watched them walk off, unable to shake the shiver that ran down his spine.
When Ben arrived home all he could do was set his purchases on the table and crash on the couch. Reaching over to his make-shift end table, which was a stack of old books, Ben grabbed his Year 11 yearbook from Truham. He flipped through the pages until he found Charlie’s photo.
He stared in awe the rest of the night, remembering how it felt those few months he had Charlie’s heart until he didn’t.
No one, it rang in his head. No one at all.