Chapter Text
He stared at the waves, flat and unbothered
It pissed him off. Even the sea didn’t care he existed.
Max works at a café with windows that face the water, he watches people come and go, but no one ever stays...just like those waves.
after the shift, he goes to his flat
dragging himself to lay on the mattress, head off the pillow
such a painful position that he knows he'll regret in the morning
But he can't move now, he feels as if a giant, metallic, invisible blanket is pressed on top of him, smashing him to the mattress beneath
his head is already aching now that he is not crying
he does want to cry, but he's not able to get any tear out of his eyes anymore
It's funny, because months ago he was pretty sure that if he cried once more his eyes will explode
or was is weeks ago? a year? it’s been almost a year?
He doesn't remember when did that shift of emotions happened to him
The numbness, weakness
he feels too fragile like he could break at any sudden, not careful move
but at the same time, right now he feels way too heavy like soon enough he'll break through the mattress out of the pressure
he doesn't exactly feel light, but he doesn't feel steady either
Like he doesn't belong on earth
which again, is very funny, and sad
cause for a moment, he felt like he owns the earth
Like nothing ever matters anymore
Like being alive and young and free was all it takes to feel enough
It wasn't ever about that, he realized
he never felt enough
not to school, not to the people around him, not enough to be a fully human being even
he must be another mysterious thing, cause for right now, he doesn't feel enough for his body
and he hated that feeling
But...he did love a few things, during his 21 years of living
so for example, he loved his friends...
though he hoped they loved him back
He always noticed the physical impact of being loved on people
they looks like their soul is consumed by adoration, that love started taking over their other body organs job
and yet, it's leaving them complete
love, in its purest form, has the power to elevate them beyond their earthly confines, making them feel as if only the heart's desires matter
being loved is not just an emotion, but an all encompassing force that can redefine our reality, rendering the ordinary extraordinary
he thought.
so it must feel great to know that you're loved, or maybe not, he doesn't know
Well...not to get distracted, he loved other things too
He loved the sea, no, not the right word
he adored the sea
A girl he once dated told him that she feels like he belonged there, in the sea, that he resemble the waves and the feeling of the water
Later on he discovered that she hates it, the sea
so they broke up, not because of the sea though, there was just no chemistry
Speaking of chemistry,
he loves chemistry, his favorite subject of all time which he got jokingly bullied for loving, seriously, what kind of a psychopath loves chemistry?
Well, despite that, chemistry never really loved him
It seriously didn't, not at all, not even in the simple quizzes
he never understood what wrong was he doing? He loved the subject
isn’t that enough?
he admired the equations, organic chemistry was fun to know about
he thought that his bad grades are because of his one-sided feelings, that it was a toxic relationship with a school subjects
but he forgot that he never really understood it
he loves chemistry, he just, doesn't understand it
Same with love and life, maybe it will get more easier once he stops looking at it from a rose-colored glasses and just, lives, understands it
Well...what else does he love...
Oh, he'd always loved that aching feeling in his stomach, when he starves himself
it made him feel something
like he's alive and real, it anchored him to the ground
He knows he's real, that he's not...exactly dead
I mean, people look his way...
Customers speak to him, maybe even their hands brush his fingers while taking their morning coffee
Sometimes, soomeetimes his friends invite him out
So they acknowledge his presence
but for the most of time he doesn't know how is that a proof of his liveness?
Most of his memories only contain him, he can't seem to remember any other person
other than his older sister when they were kids or his mother...and maybe 2 more people who made actual good memories with him
and what's really the worth of these memories if they're not shared with anyone?
He stares at the sea between orders
He knows he could, if he wants to,
leave this place and no one will ever know he was there , no trace of him will remain
maybe a memory of him here or there playing in one of his friend's head...but surely it will fade with time
that's.... good.
he thinks.
he wants to leave, he is going to leave.
he’ll walk into the sea
but riiighttt after he takes the next order from this customer
what? being suicidal doesn't prevent that the customer is always right, right?
and he doesn't want his last memories to be "that fuckass barista ran away in the middle of taking my order" or his boss being mad at him
he hates making people mad, though that's the best he does so far
So he takes the order,
"and the name is?"
he already memorized it
The sea outside is rough.
"Daniel."
So is Max’s heart.