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A car alarm was blaring outside of his apartment by the time he’d gotten home with the pizza. Kyle felt solid, immovable. The heavy feeling had settled itself in every empty cavity of his body, sinking to the soles of his shoes. He was going. He couldn’t believe it. He was going.
The familiar walk to his apartment felt still, somehow. He listened to the voices of people arguing, to the sound of the 8pm news on TV. He felt passive and useless amongst it all.
After struggling with thr key for a good minute, Kyle managed to open the door. The light from the hallway spilled into his living room from an angle, lighting a part of it yellow in a tilted sort of way.
The light split Hal’s face in two— one half in the dark and one not. He didn’t need to look up at Kyle, he had already been staring at the door. Kyle didn’t need to act surprised that he was there at all— maybe he had known that this was coming.
He shut the door behind him and they were in the dark together. The city moved a million steps outside of his window before Kyle could manage to take the few that carried him to his coffee table. Placing the bag down, he continued standing. The weight of Hal’s gaze on him made him slow, made him feel even heavier.
“I heard you’re going.” Hal’s voice was as deep and opaque as the darkness. He continued just looking at Kyle, despite the fact that Kyle was doing his best not to look at him.
The first thought that Kyle had was “Is he disappointed in me?” but he didn’t want to know that answer. He put his hands in his pockets, letting the thumbs hook over the sides. “Yeah.” He wished that his voice hadn’t cracked.
“I’m not gonna ask you why you accepted, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Hal said. Kyle couldn’t make out the lines of his face anymore, in the dark.
“Why do you think I’m worried?” Kyle tried to sound casual. Hal didn’t reply.
“Could you get me a drink?” Hal asked. Kyle nodded and headed to the kitchen to get him a can of the beer that he kept around, just for him. Hal cracked it open and took a sip. Kyle stood and watched.
“My mom didn’t want me to be a pilot, you know.” Hal said.
“I know.” Kyle nodded.
“I broke her heart everyday. Everytime I went out to watch my dad fly, everytime I just so much as looked at a plane. I broke her heart.” Hal said. “I think I’m starting to know what she felt like.”
“Hal, I’m so—“ Kyle had to stop himself. So what? Sorry? The thoughts weighed on his chest, stung his eyes. There was a lump in his throat that made it difficult to talk, “It’s just— Jennie’s dead, and Alex and mom and, I just need to—“ he sucked in a breath, shuddering and unable to continue. Everyone he’d ever loved kept dying or leaving him and he was getting sick of loving people just to end up by himself, over and over again and maybe at this point it wasn’t the world’s fault and he was the problem and he had to do something about himself instead of waiting for everyone he loved to realize they had to leave because the people that didn’t just died.
“I’m sorry.”
He loved Hal too much to lose him. He loved Hal too much to tell him that he did, when he should have.
“I’m sorry.” Kyle said. It was a pebble, dropped into a murky lake. Its ripples grew larger and fainter, going further and further away before they disappeared.
The air seemed thick and still, like it was carrying so much of what both of them wanted to say.
“Don’t go.” Hal said. “You’re not gonna listen to me, I know, but don’t go.” He was the one avoiding the eye contact now, face bent towards the can of beer. “If you’re gone I’m—“ he looked up to the ceiling, calling out to some God that wasn’t listening; Kyle prayed for the sake of his still-breaking heart that he wouldn’t say it, “I’m alone.”
Hal’s sillhouette could have been a painting, hanging in a gallery next to van Gogh and da Vinci. Kyle could see the sketches, the rough lines underneath the paintstrokes. He could still see Hal’s smile, the wrinkles by the sides of his eyes and at the corner of his lips that night on that jet plane. He could imagine the white streaks behind his ears, the memories he was ashamed of. He could imagine a million games of catch and prom nights that he wished Hal had been there for.
The car alarm was still blaring, but the sound had gotten fainter.