Chapter Text
The shrill ring of the phone woke Idia with a start.
“ Call From: Mom!”
Idia rolled over in his bed, his long hair tangling around him. “Ortho, reject call.” He demanded groggily.
“Rejecting Call From: Mom!” The cheery electronic voice chimed from the speaker on the wall.
The ringing ended, and Idia’s default white noise program replaced the sound. He buried his face in his pillow again. The pillow he held, the one stained with tears and snot, was not in the same pillowcase as the others in his bed. Instead, it was dressed in a Diasomnia concert shirt, soaked in what used to be Lilia’s cologne. Idia nuzzled his face into the fabric, inhaling the distant musky perfume and exhaling rotting morning breath.
Sometimes, when he was asleep, he still could feel Lilia close to him. If his eyes were closed and the fabric of the shirt was pressed against his face just so, then he could practically hear the phantom breaths of a sleeping rockstar. He could feel the distant rise and fall of Lilia’s chest. It was like they were cuddling again, sleeping together again.
In moments like these, he could pretend that he wasn’t the person he was.
The ringing began again.
“ Call From: Mom!”
Idia groaned in frustration. “Put her on the fucking TV!”
“ Answering on: Bedroom TV!”
The giant flatscreen in front of Idia’s bed lit up, revealing a very irritated blonde woman in a slate grey pantsuit. “Idia! There you are! Thank goodness, we thought you were dead.”
“Dramatic ass.” Idia muttered, not moving from his bed, not even bothering to turn around and look at the screen. “I’m fine!”
"Your roots are terrible! Oh, Idia, what have you been doing with yourself?"
He tried to shrink under the sheets. "Why are you calling?"
“Mr. Ashengrotto is coming over today to update the accounts. He said you haven’t been answering any of his calls. I wanted to make sure you were around when he gets here in an hour!”
“I’m definitely around.” It wasn’t like Idia had anything else to do.
She leaned into the screen and squinted her eyes. “You look terrible. Tell your Ortho to open your windows!”
Her voice triggered the machine. “Opening: Bedroom Blinds!”
Sunlight, unseen for days, blinded Idia’s eyes. “Fuck!” He covered his eyes and sat up. He tossed a pillow – not the shirt one, never the shirt one – at his television. “Are you serious, mom?!”
“You aren’t sixteen anymore, sweetheart.” Her voice was kind and loving, but strict. Motherly. “It’s not normal for adults to shut down like this. Do you need to see your psychiatrist again? We can call Dr. Crewel.”
“I’m fine.” He said, blinking against the harsh sunlight. His white and blue room’s sterile architecture contrasted with the piles of trash, and dirty laundry, and empty cans of energy drinks. Piles of takeout containers towered over the flowing valleys of spilled sodas. Idia realized he must be numb to the smell, or perhaps Lilia’s cologne had burned his nostrils, because this place should smell like shit, but it didn’t. He was happy his mom couldn’t catch a whiff through the screen.
“If you aren’t fine, you can tell me.” She said.
Idia felt his skin crawl. She was being too nice. “I need to get up to let Azul in. I have to go.”
“Call me if you need anything!”
“I won’t.”
“And unblock your father from your Ortho device! He wants to be able to send you messages again!”
“Fat chance.”
The screen went dark, and the white noise machine commenced.
Idia was alone.
It didn't feel as good as it did before.
He inhaled a shaking breath. When was the last time he looked outside the windows? There was the sky, and there were tall buildings made of shiny glass. The world was still going, despite his freezing in time. There was a reason he had kept the blinds closed, and it paralyzed him. If he looked the wrong way, looked too far down the road, he would see the black roof of the venue where he first met Lilia.
He sat in a quiet stillness, reveling in catatonia before his Ortho unit buzzed to life again. “ Doorbell!”
Idia rose to his feet and somehow shuffled to the door. It took so long that “ Doorbell, doorbell!” was cooed over the apartment speakers at least four more times. When he opened the door, there was Azul. The ever-polished accountant was in his typical perfectly-pressed suit. He looked particularly professional next to Idia’s crusty pajamas, and he made no effort to hide his disgust. He never did.
“Glad to see you aren’t dead.” Azul cocked his head. “Though you could have at least text me back.”
“You told my mom on me.” Idia deadpanned.
“When’s the last time you showered?” His paid-for ski-slope nose wrinkled. “How about you do that while I set up. I can’t stand to be around that…stench…for our entire afternoon.”
“Afternoon?” Idia asked, looking around for a clock. “I just woke up.”
“Well, it is nearly four. So.” Azul snuck past him, slippery like an eel to avoid getting too close to the bed-rotten form. He used his briefcase as a barrier, grimacing as the leather brushed against Idia’s arm. “Get in the shower before I pour bleach on your head.”
Idia barely showered. He stood under hot water, burning his skin without washing his hair. He half-heartedly rubbed shower gel on his pits, and used mouthwash instead of a toothbrush – and followed up the mouthwash by grabbing an energy drink flavored like blue raspberry. It was the weakest attempt at hygiene in the history of mankind. But it must have been enough for Azul to find him tolerable, because he sat Idia down at the small circular dining table and slammed a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee in front of him.
Azul sat in front of him. “Eat.” He pointed accusingly at the plate.
Idia pushed the pancakes around with a fork. “How did you make those?”
“I do send you adult groceries once a month.” Azul said. "Not that it apparently helps much."
“I’m not hungry, I don’t want them.” Idia shoved down the growls in his stomach.
“Your card statements show that the last time you ordered any food to this apartment was two days ago.” Azul crossed his arms. “ Eat.”
It took far too long for Idia to get three dry bites of pancake down his swollen throat. It was agony – both to be around another human and to eat something that wasn’t covered in grease. Azul did not understand that Idia did not deserve to eat, not now. Not for a while. He was going to sit there like a warden and force him to finish his plate. But after those three first bites, Azul relaxed into seat.
Since his first day on the job, Azul Ashengrotto had decided to become a thorn in Idia’s side. Sometimes, the pain of the prick was a little welcome.
“Tell me what you did.” He said. “I know you. This kind of tantrum doesn’t come from nowhere. You always do something terrible to cause it.”
“You’re an accountant, not a therapist.” Idia said. After a beat of silence, after proof that Azul wouldn’t be giving up any time soon, he continued. “Fine. That guy I was hanging out with? I ghosted.” Idia took another bite of pancake. Swallowing would prevent the sobbing.
For a moment, Azul seemed genuinely shocked. “You broke up with your boyfriend?”
“We were never dating.” Idia said.
He snorted. “Tell that to your credit line over the last few months.”
“Kindly fuck off.”
"Wait, are you serious? You 'never dated' him?"
Idia took two more bites. The situation was dire.
“So you blew up your life.” Azul sighed. He reached for his briefcase and pulled out his laptop. He started to type furiously, multitasking his spreadsheets and his limited emotional support. "How do I add a column for blowing up your life?"
“Not my whole life. Not the music.” Idia took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. He poured some of his neon blue energy drink in the coffee and tried again. It was much better now. “I’m just not taking any more gigs in person. Especially not in this fucking city.”
"Why?"
Idia hesitated. "Because I don't want to run into him."
“You know what’s easier than all of this?” Azul waved his hand at Idia’s everything. “Simply allowing yourself to be happy.”
“Happy?”
“Allowing yourself to keep dating this guy.”
“I wouldn’t be happy in a relationship.” Idia said.
“Why?” Azul asked.
“Because I’m a fuck up." He said. "I’ll fuck it up.”
Azul kept typing, multitasking by tidying up Idia’s accounts while shaming him in the same breath. “Is this whole self-sabotage not fucking it up?”
He shook his head. “You don’t get it. Lilia’s too good for me.”
“Everyone’s too good for you. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn't rise to the occasion.”
Idia rolled his eyes. “Shut up. You’re annoying me.”
“Do you know what I think, Idia?” Azul leaned over his laptop, grey eyes piercing right into Idia’s exhausted yellow ones. “I think you were happy. I think you were genuinely, truly happy for the first time in a long time, and you got scared. And you ran. And now some guy that you are in love with - “
“I never said that!”
“Some guy you are in love with is out there with a broken heart. And you’re in here, alone, with a new pimple on your chin and cum-stained boxers. There was the perfect opportunity for you to finally, finally, be open with someone and that was a fate worse than death, wasn’t it? So now you’re here. You’re acting like a spoiled teenager who’s scared of commitment. It’s pathetic.” The last word echoed in the quiet kitchen.
Idia and Azul stared at each other in tense silence.
“I could fire you for talking to me like that.” Idia crossed his arms over his chest.
Azul scoffed. “But you won’t. Because I’m right. And if you get rid of me, you have to talk to Mrs. Shroud at least once a week.”
“You have job security for life as long as I’m the family disappointment.”
“Precisely why I started working here in the first place.” Azul smiled. He cleared Idia’s half-eaten plate. “Chess?”
Idia hated how well Azul knew him. “Absolutely.”
They moved to the living room, setting up on a couch by a window so Idia could try to absorb some sunlight as Azul continued to berate him. Azul forced him to bring his coffee with him, even if Idia was certainly not going to finish it. Azul switched between typing on his laptop and moving his pieces across the board.
“What do you love about him?” Azul asked.
Idia shook his head. “I still haven’t said that I do.”
“Well, if you did love him. Why?”
Every intelligent thought fled Idia’s brain. “...he’s cute.”
“Cute? My pet fish are cute . You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“He’s…cool. I like how cool he is. He’s effortlessly cool.”
Azul cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
Idia chewed on his nails. “He’s just cool. He does cool things, and he looks cool while doing it. I’m such a poser compared to him. He’s lived a lot of life, you know? And, uh…” Idia gestured around his living room. It was messy and unused all at once.
“He really is out of your league, isn’t he?”
“For sure. That’s like my whole point.” Idia sighed.
“What else do you like about him?”
“I really like the way he dresses…It’s unique. I like unique people.”
“What makes him unique?” Azul continued to prompt him.
“His sense of humor is so weird, but in a good way. A great way! But then his music…fuck, don’t get me started on his music. He’s so talented.”
“Yeah?”
“So fucking talented. Watching him play bass is, like, a sexual experience. I feel like he’s a god when he’s on stage. I’ve never seen anything like it. He moves so effortlessly but there’s so much energy…It’s art. Fuck, it’s art.”
Azul took Idia’s rook.
Now that it was all coming out, Idia couldn’t stop talking. “He’s so pretty. Azul, you don’t get it, he’s pretty. I’ve never met a guy as pretty as him. And he’s kind, so stupid kind, but in a way that can only come from pain. I’ve never met anyone like him, I’m never going to meet anyone like him again. He’s Lilia, he’s wonderful, and fuck, he loves me, and I love him back!” The final words made Idia throw up in his mouth.
“That’s what I thought.” Azul said. “You love him.”
“Fuck, I love him.” His voice quivered. “I don’t know what to do.”
Azul moved his bishop and watched Idia with weary eyes. “It’s your turn.”
The pair sat in silence, finishing the chess game in a draw and moving on to another. And another. And another. They played round after round without speaking a word. The pieces did all the talking. Idia sniffled to himself as he fought back tears, and Azul comforted him by kicking his ass over and over. At the very last second, during the very last match, Idia managed to corner Azul’s king.
Azul checked his watch and frowned. “I have to go. I have a client dinner tonight.” He pushed his chair in and started to gather his things, being so kind as to ignore the messes he stepped around to get through the apartment on his way out. “Idia, I have a task I need you to do before I see you again next week.”
“What is it?” Idia asked. “Do you need my paystubs from my gigs again?”
Azul paused in the living room entryway. “I need you to do something good for yourself. I need you to learn how to own up to your self-imposed bullshit. And I need you to reach out to Lilia and apologize. I will not work for an overpaid, undersexed, moody adult-sized teenager. You are a fine person. You do deserve to be loved - despite my reluctance to admit so.”
With that, Azul left.
Idia, alone on the couch, managed to crack his first smile in weeks. That was the nicest thing Azul had ever said to him.
His eyes trailed over to the windows, where the sunset was cresting over the city skyline. He walked over to the window, and looked down the street.
The venue stared back.
Idia pressed a single finger against the glass, squinting so that the venue was completely hidden behind his hand. He dropped his hand. A greasy fingerprint remained on the glass, smeared to look like a disfigured heart circling the black roof of the venue.
“Ortho.” Idia said. “Play Diasomnia on Spotify.”