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I still have your picture on the wall
Otto has a lot of pictures on his walls. Most of his room is covered in band or baseball posters, but he has a special section above his bed where the photographs go. Friends, family, pets - they all go up there so he can look at them when he’s sad and remember how good his life is.
And Awsten. Whatever category he falls into these days.
It’s just one picture - there was only ever the one of Awsten that Otto really loved. God knows everyone took a million pictures of Awsten and Otto during their short time together but Otto’s favourite is a polaroid. It’s of Awsten, sitting on his bed and covering his face with his hand. Because of the angle of the picture, you can still see him grinning.
He’s laughing at something Otto said. No matter what else he forgets, Otto always remembers that. He keeps the picture up because it reminds him that he did make Awsten happy, once.
Not everything was awful like it was in the end.
I still have the nightmares where I would have to call you to calm down
“Awsten-”
“Otto, it’s okay-”
“I can’t- I can’t breathe-”
“Hey, hey, take a deep breath man.” Awsten practically begged, his voice sleepy and staticky. Otto’s call must have woken him up, and the signal is bad out on the farm. “In and out, come on.”
Otto breathed in sharply, then pushed the air out so quickly that his throat hurt. He tried again, taking the inhale much slower as Awsten cooed at him through the phone.
“There we go, that’s better, hm?” Awsten sighed, like he himself was breathing deep to calm down. “What happened? Can you tell me?”
“Bad dream.” Otto mumbled.
He doesn’t like explaining what his nightmares are about. They’re not something he wants to dig into, psychologically or otherwise. Half the time, he doesn’t even know. It’s all jumbled and nonsensical, but he doesn’t realise that until someone has helped calm him down.
“Again? You get those a lot.” Awsten observed. “Like, once a week, you call me in the middle of the night freaking out.”
“I can stop.” Otto already felt guilty about calling so late.
He didn’t have anyone else he could talk to. Even when he woke up screaming, no one would come check on him - the joys of living in the middle of nowhere. Instead he had to dig his phone out of his bag, pray that it was charged and double-pray that Awsten picked the call up.
Awsten always did, no matter what time Otto called. If it was early enough, before two, Awsten might still be awake. Otherwise it always woke Awsten up. Did he sleep with his phone under his pillow or something?
“No, no, it’s fine. I honestly don’t mind.” Awsten insisted. “Do you need me to drive up there?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a forty-five minute drive.”
“So?”
“It’s four in the morning!” Otto glanced out of the window and saw the inky-black sky turning grey. He needed to be up for work soon, but he wasn’t about to hang up. Talking to Awsten was his favourite part of his day.
“I’d do it for you.”
Otto sighed. “I know.”
Otto wakes up, drenched in sweat, shaking so hard that he can’t see. He fumbles for his phone, squinting at the bright screen, then stops. Him and Awsten don’t talk anymore. There’s no one for him to call.
I still think about you all the time
It’s weird how constant the reminders of Awsten are. They weren’t even friends for that long, in the grand scheme of their lives. In theory it’s one of those things that they will both forget about in a few months, like dust in the wind.
But every scene kid with badly dyed hair looks like Awsten. Every Halloween decoration is something Awsten would have loved. All the local hardcore bands sound like something Awsten would enjoy.
Otto considers calling Awsten and inviting to see a show with him. He turns off his phone for three days as punishment. No contact, he promises himself. It’s better that way.
When I step out of the shower I'm reminded of the night
The bathroom is freezing when Otto steps out of the shower. It’s strange how cold the middle of nowhere can get. The previously warm water on his skin freezes immediately, making him shiver.
Awsten’s house was always warm. Whenever Otto stayed over there, after a band practice that ran late or just because he was invited, he never found himself cold. The whole place had an air of homeliness, home-cooked meals and warm blankets and candles on every windowsill. Awsten’s mom was always trying to feed Otto something.
If it was just Otto and Awsten hanging out, they would skip Awsten’s curfew and go out driving. His mom would be mad when they finally showed back up, but Awsten always said it was worth it to hang out with Otto.
Awsten’s car sucked, but it always had gas in it and Awsten was willing to drive it wherever Otto wanted to go. Usually Waffle House, but sometimes just somewhere they could sit and talk. They always lost track of time, sitting in the dark in the silence of the world.
When we slept in the back of your car
Once or twice, they didn’t want to go home at all. It felt right, just the two of them out here in the dark, sitting in the back of Awsten’s car and complaining about whatever was bothering them this week. For reasons Otto doesn’t want to know, Awsten keeps blankets in the trunk of his car. They could park the car in whatever secluded spot they found themselves in and sleep besides each other in the back seat. It was cold, but the blankets kept them warm enough.
It never went any further than that, except for Awsten reaching out and grabbing Otto’s hand, holding it until his speech slurred and he passed out.
Otto never had nightmares when Awsten was next to him. Maybe that was a coincidence.
And you left me with a pretty cool scar
“Ow! Awsten, for fucks sake-”
“Oh, sorry!” Awsten scrambled to pull the car door back open, freeing Otto’s arm. They’re trying to get up and go home before Awsten’s mom wakes up and realises he didn’t come home last night. The universe seems to be against them, though. “Fuck, sorry, I wasn’t looking.”
“I’m alright.” Otto said, even though his arm is bleeding.
The sharp edge of the metal door of Awsten’s shitty car caught his forearm and left a nasty cut. Not a deep one, nothing hospital worthy. He should probably have gotten a tetanus shot though.
“I’m so sorry.” Awsten grabbed the blanket from the backseat and pressed it to Otto’s arm. He looked pale, like he was the one bleeding - he always hated blood.
“It’s alright, I’m fine.” Otto wrapped his uninjured arm around Awsten and lowered Awsten’s face into his shoulder so he couldn’t see it. “It was an accident.”
Otto stares at the scar on his arm, long healed and turning white. It’s jagged and makes for a good story, but it’s fading. One day it will be gone, like Awsten never touched him at all.
Your purple sweater's sitting in my room
Awsten didn’t seem to have a concept of what counted as his own clothes. He was always stealing from Travis, from Otto, even from Gracie. If it fit, he stole it, and rarely gave it back. To be fair, Gracie and Travis both stole clothes back from him. Otto rarely did, but he always seemed to be lending hoodies to Awsten that he never got back. He’s still missing some of them now.
The last time Awsten was here - almost a month ago - he left a purple sweater behind. He probably just forgot it was his and left it on Otto’s bedroom floor. Awsten was always forgetting things. It’s as if looking away from something makes it stop existing to him.
Otto left the sweater where it was, in case Awsten came back for it. Except he never came back and they don’t talk anymore. That’s Otto’s fault, really. He could drive down to Cypress and give the sweater back instead of holding it hostage. It would be that easy.
But it’s never that easy, is it?
I tried to wear it, but I knew that it would smell like you
Otto finally picks the sweater up when he’s cleaning his room and can’t avoid it anymore. He holds it in his hands for a moment, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers. Awsten won’t wear anything that doesn’t feel right on his skin and this sweater is no exception. It isn’t clingy, there’s no tag in the back, and the seams don’t itch.
He must miss it, or at least wonder what happened to it. Maybe he knows, but wants so little to talk to Otto that he hasn’t even texted him to ask for it back. Otto checks his phone. Awsten’s last text, where r u, still sits unanswered in his inbox.
It’s far too late to respond now. What would he even say? Sorry I freaked out and ran off without saying anything. Do you blame me, should I blame you? Neither of us can fix it, so what’s the point in talking? We’re better off separated.
The sweater would fit Otto. He could put it on and wear it and it wouldn’t even be out of place in his wardrobe. Instead he holds it up to his face and breathes in the scent of it. It smells like cheap cologne, laundry detergent, and something distinctly Awsten.
It reminds him of sitting in Awsten’s room, in fits of hysterics at something that wasn’t even funny in the first place. They would lay on the floor and talk for hours about nothing in particular. Now Otto feels like he has no one to talk to, even though he has plenty of other friends. None of them know him like Awsten did.
He shoves the sweater in the back of his closet where he can’t see it. He still knows where it is, though, in case Awsten does come back.
Hope is an awful, burrowing thing.
I saw you dancing at the show tonight
Otto should have expected to see Awsten again at some point. They still move in the same circles, like the same music, go to the same shows. It was inevitable that they’d run into each other again. That doesn’t stop Otto from freezing in place the second his eyes land on his old friend.
In the middle of the crowd, Awsten is dancing like an idiot, laughing so hard he’s almost convulsing, stumbling into Travis beside him. He looks… happy, like nothing bad has ever happened to him. It’s almost unnatural.
Maybe what happened didn’t affect Awsten as much as it did Otto. Maybe they don’t care about it at all. Neither of them have seen him here and he prefers it that way.
I stood in the back and I think that we both know why
It’s hard to see the stage from the back of the room, but Otto can hear the music well enough. That’s why he’s here. Either way, he’s too busy staring at Awsten rather than watching the band.
There’s no way he’s getting close enough that Awsten or Travis can see him. If it’s Travis that sees him, he’ll either tell Awsten or he won’t, and Otto doesn’t know which is worse. If Awsten sees him… it doesn’t bear thinking about.
Awsten wouldn’t want to see him. Otto decides that for them both, doesn’t even give Awsten the option of spotting him and coming over to talk. It’s better if they never see each other again, even if it hurts.
Especially if it hurts.
Did it hurt when I kicked you to the curb?
Otto was the one who walked away. Awsten sent the last text, said the last word, but he didn’t come after Otto. He never showed up at his house looking for him.
That’s the exact sort of thing Awsten would do, overly dramatic, pouring his heart out on his porch. But he didn’t. He didn’t even call.
Otto wasn’t worth the effort, not that he put any in himself. This is all his fault, and he has done absolutely nothing to fix it.
Now I'm all alone
Otto misses Travis too. He misses all the friends he and Awsten shared. It’s hard to talk to them because Awsten is such a character. He made an impression on all of them that is a shadow over anything Otto can be.
Sometimes he drives out to the places he and Awsten used to go to just to sit in the parking lot and stare into space. Nothing is the same without him, so Otto doesn’t even try to enjoy it.
I guess I'll never learn
He should text Awsten back, but he doesn’t. It’s been six months, it would be weird. Maybe it would make him feel better if they talked but what’s the point? Awsten wants nothing to do with him. Even if he never said that, Otto knows it in his soul.
And I lied
“We just drifted apart.” Otto says when his friends ask about Awsten, or as they say, ‘that weird scene kid that used to hang around’.
He doesn’t want to explain it, can’t go through it all again. It isn’t anyone else's business.
And it’s not drifting if one of you ran.
When I took you on a drive
They used to go everywhere together, and now Otto hardly goes anywhere at all. He drives aimlessly, as if he’s trying to find Awsten in the backroads of the Texas countryside.
He finds himself sleeping in the back of his car when it gets too late for him to drive home. On instinct, he reaches out to grab Awsten’s hand, and finds nothing there.
And I said I'd never speak to her
“I’m not talking to him anymore.” Otto tells his mom when she asks about Awsten, because if she knows it, then it has to be true.
“That’s a shame.” His mom says. “You liked him a lot.”
“I guess.” He doesn’t know if “liked” covers the emotions he felt about Awsten. He doesn’t understand his feelings for him at all.
I wish I would have kept my word
“Otto!” Someone shouts from across the road. Otto looks up from where he’s reading a poster outside a venue and sees-
“Awsten?”
“Hey!” Awsten almost gets hit by a car sprinting across the road, out of breath as he grins down at Otto. “Hey, I need a drummer for my new band.”
He doesn’t ask for an apology, doesn’t offer one up himself. Otto finds he doesn’t want one, or want to give one either. It doesn’t matter anymore.
This can’t be a good idea, but Otto finds himself asking, “Who’s in the band?”
Because he has really, really missed Awsten.