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"But must it always be a tragedy?
Maybe suns are meant to love
boys who fall into seas." - Dear Poets, It’s Time To Rewrite Icarus
Albert is aware of many things. Right now, at this very moment, in this very room. Even though he’s wearing hefty shoes, he finds himself sympathizing with the bitter cold reflection of the living room tile. Like he can almost feel the disgruntled shocks from their shine. The falling light from the ceiling does little to lift his spirits, even as he stands where its heart drips the most, casting shadow to the pockets of his jeans where he keeps the underbelly of his emotions.
He’s aware that there’s about half an hour on the clock before the fated ball is set to drop for New Year’s. He knows that all of his friends hate the vodka soda he picked up because the store ran out of the good flavors but they’ll still find a way to black out for the occasion.
But most of all, he knows Jake’s acting weird .
“Jake’a always weird.” Denis interrupts him with a hiccup. Oh , he’d spoken that last bit out loud apparently. “ Should’ve gotten something strongerrr .” He sings-songs, alluding to the poor beverage choice.
Albert pays no mind, throws a pointed glare at his friend before venturing off into the hallway. Maybe throwing some water on his face in the bathroom aimlessly would provide an answer, his face is blazing under all prickling nerves, or if he could just find—
“Albert.” Ah, there he is.
Jake stumbles into view from the darkness of the hallway, Albert’s eyes widen. “Dude, did you go to the fucking North Pole or something? You’ve been gone forever. I thought I was leaving you in 2023 for a second.”
Normally that remark would bounce well off the friendly bubble they’ve managed to maintain for years now. Something about how Albert feels like an overflowing glass of water, something about the time of night, the bittersweet alcohol sweat streaming through his knuckles, the bubble is fizzling out. And maybe it has been for a while now.
“Oh.” Is all Jake has to say for himself. “I mean I-I’m good. I just felt kinda overwhelmed, I guess.”
The music echoes through the house and fills in their silence, flooding, drowning, dyingly so. Their friends are laughing from the other room, unaware of the conflict arising in the enclosed space. In that classic I don’t believe you fashion, Albert glances around, “You guess ?” He looks up at Jake.
“I don’t know, what else do you want me to say?” Jake spits back and Albert doesn’t miss the venom laced along the edges of his voice. As quickly as it’s said, Jake walks away. Albert trails behind him, determined to know what the fuck is going on with his friend.
The cold blunders through Albert’s jacket. It’s almost midnight so the temperature is no surprise. Blearingly, the sky surrounds them. Albert feels so hopeless under it, like he’s shivering and laying in the middle of the ocean floor. Yet he always finds his face warm and pleasant around Jake. Burning admiration that suffocates him whole.
He passes their friends in the living room, who seem unaffected by their hasty runaway. Which Albert thinks is for the better. Even if he so badly wants to tell Denis an “I told you so”. Not that it’d amount to anything, Denis is tipsy off his ass like everyone else. Maybe Albert is just looking for one seething win tonight, maybe he’s too inebriated for rationale of any kind.
Or maybe, he just wants—
“You’re lucky, I can always see the stars clearer down here.” Jake says suddenly, a complete shift in tone from earlier. And alright, it’s an odd subject-change but Albert takes it regardless. Jake looks completely encapsulated by the stretches of the sky, like he’s trying to get his mind off of something, anything.
If Albert was thinking more clearly he could’ve followed that up more logically. He wants to say that yes, but they look so much better during the summer, you’d know if you were here more often, most of the time, all of the time, always. Instead, he so brightly blurts out,
“Ever had a New Year’s kiss?” Albert swings his drink to tease, although his tone remains lighthearted. It’s always a game, it pulls as it pushes; all the same nevertheless. Bone-crushingly mundane, fated yet so malleable. They’re a paradox.
Jake’s drunken headache flares at the question, he groans, “ Ugh , how drunk are you?”
Albert throws his head back to let the laugh strike his entire body, keenly giddy over his own intoxication. Both of love-sickness and the drinks. He’s not sure which of the two is more embarrassing, “ Hey , it’s a valid question. I mean, the longer you don’t answer me I’m just going to assume it’s a no.”
And Jake must notice this, stupidly, tragically just as he always notices every single thing about Albert. “Are you good?” He asks genuinely. No. He’s burning, burning, burning. Sweltering, even. “Albert?”
“I’m fine, dude. It’s a new year –It’s– I dunno .” The drinks are catching up now, he feels the need to bite his tongue, maybe grind his teeth before he ignites a forest fire out of every unspoken word that threatens to come tumbling down out into the open air. It’s not a good choice, the fiery dragon is no match for the blizzardous midnight air, right here between the boy of symphonies and meaningless drawn lines.
“Well, first off..” Jake picks up his phone to check the time, “It’s not even midnight yet, and secondly, you’ve been weird the whole night, dude.” He shoots Albert a lazy smile, crossing his arms now.
“Could say the same for you.” Albert turns to face him, wholeheartedly.
“What–Me?” Jake almost stutters, almost offended that he could think that. Like he wasn’t just hiding out and spouting half-assed accusations just a few minutes ago. Unpredictable like a ticking time-bomb, there’s never any telling what comes next with both of them. Sick of the chase, yet hungry for blood.
“ Yes! You just disappeared a while ago and didn’t even tell anyone, if you wanted to be somewhere else you could’ve just said so, I’m so fucking–” Albert stops himself. Liquid courage damn you, damn fucking you.
But Jake doesn’t say anything, at least not at first. He looks off into the distance, miserable suburbia stretches on for miles from here, the sky’s a sight for sore eyes though. The stars can’t speak, they’re light years away and have no voice, only made to shine for millions of eyes. Yet Albert can’t help but wonder some more.
“Sobered up?” Jake glances over again, he’s smug as he asks. Albert rubs his face, trying to attempt any clarity against the adrenaline drumming through the limits of his bones.
Can you feel it too?
“Feels like I haven’t been all there lately.” Albert chuckles solemnly, peering down at his twiddling fingers. They’re trembling now under nerves and the winter’s ragged push of the wind. If he could see the night any more clearly he’d assume his entire body was a glowing blotch of pink.
“You know I’m always here for you, right?” The cadence of Jake’s voice pushes through his own scattered haze.
“Yeah that’s— I’d always want you there .” If Albert were any more present, he’d have recognized the cheers of his friends' voices that screamed Happy New Year, he would’ve noticed the sparks and crackles of the neighborhood fireworks that gave grace to the stars.
All he can feel is his own face gravitating, ( melting towards? ) Jake’s face, and Jake’s hand that reaches out to caress his face. It’s all he can register, likewise as it’s all he ever wants to know in this stretch of time. Because it’s always Jake that can break through the noise, always has been and always will.
Jake’s teeth are sharp, stuck with the edges of that stupid flavor vodka soda and fuck it—Albert’s so glad there weren’t any more flavors left because he’d take this over anything in the fucking world . Stuck with honey and toothpaste in the way that not even land and sea could part.
He looks up at Jake, eyes glazed behind years of uncertainty. It’s all clear now, as the sea foam of his mind dissolves. Salted and sickeningly soft. Giddy teenage conversations of buying homes next to each other, feather-light promises of stay and you’ll never need to leave , now he knows what it all meant. “Stay… please ?” Sugary drops of his voice that fold into the breeze of the darkness.
“Anything.” Jake tells him. Albert has all the proof that it’s true, it’s beating through the strings of his heart right now and it will later, once they’ve snuck up to Albert’s room and gasp into each other’s mouths, pulse thrumming through flesh as the ocean swells up and over the rocks. Atlantic’s cold love, kisses of show me, unearth me, crash through me, and it will always.