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Eva Smith was gone.
Irrevocably, permanently, eternally gone.
And it was all his fault.
—————
Demons have taken hold of Gerald’s mind again.
Undetected, they slithered in his ear, bearing the disguise of the news from the Inspector about Eva Smith’s death. A girl has just died in the Infirmary after drinking some strong disinfectant. And when the Inspector’s imposing, commanding words registered to him, he worked up the courage to sneak a glance at him, only to sense the Inspector’s eyes burning a hole in him, compelling him to fess up . He knew. The Inspector saw right through him. He was the hunter, and Gerald was the prey.
God, Gerald would never have anticipated that said ‘girl’ would be the very girl she once loved. A girl whose real name wasn’t even revealed to him before her death. Daisy Renton, she had told him, one cool summer night when all the warmth he had was from his and her combined body heat. Since then, he had addressed her by this fake name, this fake personality that she had made up for herself, even in the sweetest moments with her, between heaven and earth, when all he could feel was pure ecstasy.
These lustful, untainted memories slipped away into fragments of lost time, and were replaced by a looming shadow of gloom. Every time Gerald thought back to that blissful summer when all was hidden behind hushed affirmations of a fleeting romance and closed doors, more thoughts would overlap, until they became so overwhelming that they snaked around Gerald’s throat and choked him till he couldn’t breathe.
No, Gerald could never, ever escape from these demons, or the lie he had lived throughout that fateful summer, or the lover he so regretfully betrayed.
But he could escape from his now ex-fiancé whom he never truly loved and whom he never truly deserved, or the stutters and mutters of his supposed family, or the imposing presence of the Inspector.
So, with an exquisite ring that almost came to symbolise a reluctant and undeserving marriage slung around his finger, he walked out of the luxurious mansion and disappeared into the night.
—————
“How did this happen?”
Gerald was pondering this question himself, without the slightest clue of what the answer was.
“We covered up our tracks so well. We waited till we were out of sight. We did everything possible to conceal ourselves from the outside world… what happened?”
Gerald didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even bring himself to look up at him.
He took on an expression of distress and franticness once he realised that Gerald had no intention of responding. “Gerald, please.” Upon setting eyes on him, Gerald felt his heart lurch, as if a demon had just ripped it out of his chest. “Talk to me.”
Gerald exhaled slowly, having held in so many conflicting feelings all at once. “I don’t… know.” his hollowed, lifeless voice echoed throughout the bedroom that, if someone realised he was in, he would be arrested. “I promise you, I don’t know.” He was sitting on the bed, atop the plush duvet that he spent so many secluded nights under.
The other man sat on the bed next to Gerald. “I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this,” his voice shook with raw emotion and the promise of tears that he usually concealed easily. “Ducking out of sight just to see you. Looking away at any mention of you, as if I had something immoral to hide. Fleeing as a coward would, as if I were a criminal.” He swallowed down the instability of his voice and blinked away his tears forcefully, so as to make him appear fine. But Gerald knew him. He knew him too well to fall for this facade. “Loving you isn’t… loving you isn’t a crime , right?”
In the dim light, Gerald could see a lone tear escape from the corner of his eye. And in the heat of the moment, what else could he do, other than cup his cheek with a tender hand, and brush away his tears?
“Eric,” Gerald said softly, gently, and he felt the other man melt into his hand, into his voice and into him . At that moment, Gerald was once again fuelled by his own hatred towards the world and its prejudices and twisted values, that he wished the world would collapse around them, so he could ensure his lover would be protected and that they could be alone, forevermore. “No, it… no, it isn’t.” He had a multitude of other things to say, a multitude of other things to tell him, to reassure him, but he felt the words catch in his throat and it suffocated him to the core, so he stopped trying.
But he knew that Eric understood it all, when he felt Gerald cautiously pulling him close and kissing him tenderly.
The passionate kiss bloomed into a secret garden, where no one will ever think to look for them, where no one will ever have to know .
Just another secret they were keeping from the rest of the cruel, vile world.
—————
Gerald hated walks.
It gave him too much time and space to think. When that happened, Gerald had no choice but to confront his own feelings he held so dear to himself that others deemed immoral. The ‘others’, who, when Gerald was a mere child, happened to arrest a man for committing illegal sexual acts. Gerald witnessed it all, that chilly November evening. He could still remember, clear as day, the blearing, deafening, glaring lights, the foul stench of something rotten in the air and the shouts and screams of the crowd around him. They seemed to eat at him until they reached his heart, exposing him for who he loved, and condemning him in his mind.
This all replayed in his head, whenever he had time to think. And these thoughts branched out into more thoughts, until he had a hedge maze of such unspeakable fancies that, should they be spoken out, he would be incarcerated in an asylum, a prison or even condemned to death.
Eric was, as most would describe him, shy. It didn’t mean that he doesn’t talk, though. Gerald couldn’t even remember how they met. All he remembered was that he was falling infinitely, from Heaven to Hell, as if his angel wings had been butchered off his body when he was flying, and were replaced by the Devil’s horns. He had once thought that Eric would never reciprocate his feelings, that his heart would forever be trapped in a gilded cage, that he would never cease loving him secretly and painfully till his heart stopped, but then Eric took him by the hand one day and met Gerald’s lips with his warm, soft, plush ones, and that was when Gerald’s world regained its colour.
Eric would walk with him, and he talked a lot, which was the very remedy to Gerald’s intrusive thoughts. They went out at night, when most that still lingered on the streets were drunk and wasted, and when no one could see their entwined hands through the sleeves of their overcoats in the shadows. At night was when most escaped to their slumber due to the absence of light in their lives, but to Gerald and Eric, the dark was what gave them their light. And their light was an indestructible force, emitting from their hearts and engulfing them so that only they could see through the dark. Their light was what showed them the way to secrecy and safety, to sanctuary and to paradise.
That flame went out twice. The first time was when someone discovered them. It reemerged soon, though, when Eric came up with a solution (and how clever a solution it was, Gerald exclaimed in wonder when Eric told him his idea. Gerald had held him close by the waist and rewarded him with the sweetest of kisses and the warmest of embraces). Gerald was to feign infatuation towards Eric’s sister and win her heart, so that Gerald could make going over to Eric’s lodgings a recurrent and ordinary occurrence. Any interaction between Gerald and Eric could be passed off as a business collaboration between the Birling family and the Croft family. The plan was foolproof, and so it worked for a period of time.
Then the flame went out for a second time, and it never returned.
As Gerald took a walk down the cold, deserted streets of Brumley, he couldn’t put aside the absence of the man who used to walk beside him, or the familiar scent that should be seeping through the man’s coat and wafting across his nose in the chilly air. But most of all, he couldn’t put aside the fact that he was the gust of wind that, after a treacherous but magical day, put the flame on the candle to rest.
—————
Eric,
I write as I mournfully and regretfully sigh at the prospect of leaving you. You alone have brought to me my light, my life, my heart, my soul. Everything I hold dear is in your soft, uncalloused hands. Although I place you in my highest regard and forever will, I have duties as a businessman and the heir to my family’s will. Do not think this as an act of abandonment, but consider this as a trial of faith and undying love. Know that I will belong to you until the Earth spins off its axis, the Sun collapses and the universe closes in on itself.
I love you wholly, ardently, unconditionally. If you know nothing else, then let it be your only sentiment.
G.C.
—————
Gerald’s world was collapsing down on him.
In his dreams, he’d often been shown unfathomable outcomes of his and Eric’s illicit relationship. He’d console himself as a mother would a child when he awoke, that it was all in his subconscious and that it would never happen, nor would he permit it to. But now he saw that his efforts were all in vain as he tore out of the house, his heartbeat rapid and breathing ragged.
His voice came out hoarse but held the desperation and the remorse of a sinner, as he called the name of the man that he loved more than life. Everything blurred before his eyes — was he drunk? — but he persevered. He felt the snow beneath his feet, the chilly air in his lungs, the sting on his cheek—
It brought him back down to earth.
“You’ve really done it this time, Gerald,” once again he heard the all-too-familiar voice, once consumed by honey but now cold as ice. In a corner of his dim, distorted mind, he realised that Eric’s assault on his face was one that he deserved. The promise of tears pricked at his eyes, and his world blurred before him now, but it wasn’t the product of his drunkenness. He was wide awake, more wide awake than ever. He could only wish that he was in such a condition just moments before.
“You promised,” Eric choked out, and Gerald truly hated himself for the torture that he subjected Eric to. “You promised not to— you promised not to love anyone else the way you love me.”
“Eric—“
“I don’t need to hear anything else from you. In fact, I respect you more than I’ve ever done before. At least you’re being truthful now.” Eric spat, his features now contorted into an anguished, betrayed expression. “And a fool I was to actually believe that you were just busy.”
A ferocious monster tore at Gerald’s heart. But he embraced it, because he knew he deserved it, for living a lie the entire summer, for making promises that he couldn’t keep. He knew that his heart now lie in pieces, and it was one of the indescribable horrors that kept him up at night, but then again it now resembled the heart of the man in front of him, and in some part of his twisted, gloomy mind, he thought that it gave him some comfort that someone was burdened by the same feelings as he was.
He now looked at the man in front of him, with hot, angry tears streaming down his cheeks and dishevelled locks of hair and a quivering lower lip that he used to stroke with the pads of his thumbs. And from his mouth were the weapons that struck the final blow to Gerald’s very soul.
“Go to hell, sodomite.”
—————
Eric looked like he’d been crying in Gerald’s absence.
But Gerald knew him too well. Too well, he thought, that it might be his own fatal flaw that condemned him. His eyes, which once sparkled with radiance and love, were replaced with a dark void that resembled that of a bottomless pit of despair. Dark, sunken circles around them indicated his sleepless nights, and his flushed face implied that he clearly had been abusing alcohol, as Gerald once did. He looked a mess, yet beautiful, so beautiful. Gerald almost wanted to reach out, in full view of Eric’s entire family, piece him back together and embrace him so that the combined heat of their bodies can reignite the flame between them and thaw Gerald’s frozen heart.
Gerald realised, then and there, that his self-loathing reached no bounds. He knew he was the reason for Eric’s alcohol addiction, judging by what Sheila told him in passing one night, sometime after Gerald had his last encounter with him. He had touched a palm to his cheek when Sheila told him the news, and thought, not reluctantly but rather reminiscently, about the last bodily contact he shared between himself and Eric. It wasn’t a pleasant one to remember, given that the slap to his face was the last time he ever touched him, but he figured it was better than no Eric at all.
Nothing did anything to soothe his intrusive thoughts. Not even the arguing of the Birling family that left Gerald’s ears ringing. Not even when he spoke about his own suspicions about the Inspector. Not even the phone call that damned the Birling family to hell.
—————
Gerald couldn’t even begin to think about what he’d done to make him this way. The sweet, charming, charismatic Eric would never. But as Eric stood there in front of him for the first time in what seemed like eternity, with hot tears streaking down his face, Gerald realised that this wasn’t the Eric he’d known.
“I’ve done it, Gerald,” Eric’s voice shook under the weight of the news he broke to Gerald. “It’s over. I’m going to jail, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” With each word he spoke, more tears cascaded down his rosy cheeks, and Gerald wanted to reach out so badly, just to brush those tears away, but he knew better not to.
Gerald wasn’t in the house when the Inspector interrogated Eric — or rather, when Eric confessed his sins in front of his entire family. But Eric had told him, since he thought that Gerald should be aware of what he’d done. So that Gerald would distance himself from him. So that Gerald would distance himself from the monster.
“Eric—“
“I don’t need your pity, Gerald!” Eric shouted, eyes widened. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions, and I’m old enough to bear the consequences of them!”
Eric was slightly panting now, hostile attitude ever-present, acting as his shield from the world. Though Gerald could see through this facade — through his eyes, the windows to his soul, he could sense the hurt, the agony, the pain looming inside.
He knew that Eric had been suffering since the night he knew about Gerald’s affair with — the girl. He knew that Eric had taken on a habit of over drinking to forget. He knew that he’d met this girl — the same girl that Gerald had a fleeting relationship with over the summer — at the Palace bar, gotten drunk and made his move on her, though she was unwilling and resistant. He knew that Eric’s actions had gotten the girl pregnant. He knew that Eric had stolen money to pay for the girl’s needs, but accidentally revealed it with a slip of his mouth when drunk. And above all, he knew that all this started with himself, that it was all his fault for ruining Eric’s life. His fault for betraying his trust.
His fault. His actions. His decisions.
Loving Eric was like a drug. It was the persistent, distinguished sense of ecstasy that always kept him awake, kept him going, kept him alive. He found himself constantly intoxicated by Eric’s presence, and he would always come back for more. He was aware that the general public would disapprove of his desires, but he didn’t care; he knew that all it could bring him was harm and heartbreak, but he brushed those thoughts aside every time.
Similarly, missing him was a kind of abstinence forced onto him. He had to hold himself back from throwing himself into his embrace every time he saw him. He had to grow accustomed to coming across him and being greeted by a stone-cold silence in the foyer of the Birling residence whenever he visited. For he desired more now that it was gone, and the constant reminder of the fleeting forbidden romance between them became an echo in his mind. He couldn’t forget the pain, but he couldn’t forget the happiness either. Sometimes, the line between was as clear as the sky on a scorching summer’s day, but sometimes, the line blurred so much that Gerald couldn’t even distinguish between the two. And when that happened, Gerald lingered in the puddle of mixed emotions that burned but warmed him at the same time. The bittersweet longing was all Gerald had to keep him company.
As irreversible as the sands of time and the weathering of stone, Gerald had ruined this beautiful, secret romance effortlessly, like a cock’s crow through the crisp morning air. It was intrusive and piercing, awakening him from his slumber, his dreams, his fantasy, his hopes. As much as Gerald wished to go back in time so he could fix everything, he couldn’t.
But it was never too late to atone for it.
On that fateful night, Gerald made a decision. It was an irreversible one. But it wasn’t a hard one to make.
—————
This time, the police inspector was civil, but he was just as blunt and harsh as the prophetic impersonator sent from heaven that changed their lives mere hours ago. He introduced himself as Inspector Williams, and with each word he spoke Gerald could notice Eric visibly tense up. Gerald wished that he could reach across, place a hand on his shoulder, and urge him to cease his worrying, for he needn’t to. There was only one person in the household getting arrested tonight, and Gerald already knew that it wouldn’t be Eric.
Gerald heard himself speak. His mind was slipping in and out of the scene; he was running on autopilot, his conscience was screaming at him to stop, but his indifference spurred him on. The only thing he cared about in the world was Eric, and he was merely taking the bullet for him.
“Mr Croft, would you be so kind as to accompany me into the next room so you can tell me the details of your… assault on the girl?” Gerald heard the inspector saying. He looked around and saw Mr and Mrs Birling staring at him open-mouthed, Sheila’s look of complete and utter horror, and Eric–
He looked as beautiful as ever.
Gerald could barely recall, from the static of his distorted mind, the last time that Eric looked at him like this. He remembered flurries of snow, secret conversations betrayed with raised voices, and the most bittersweet of kisses. It was a kind of apologetic respect tangled with the webs of inexplicable sadness that stretched on for miles and miles. It wasn’t pure and incandescent happiness, but it wasn’t disappointment, resentment or anger either, and it was all that Gerald could even hope for.
He was dimly aware that by going to prison in Eric’s place, he would be surrendering his reputation, his relationships and his promising future to the law. It wasn’t entirely unjust, though, for Eric’s condemnations stemmed from Gerald’s behaviour.
We have to share something. If there’s nothing else, we’ll have to share our guilt.
And for Eric, Gerald was more than willing to.
It was what love did to people, anyway.