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“I think that paper was supposed to be about something along the lines of what we want to do in the future. Frankly, I haven’t thought about it.” Yellow pulls at her bracelet as they walk up the stairs, counting the beads.
Red, Orange, Her, Blue, Green, Purple.
One, Two, Three, Four, Five. Six.
She heard Green scoff from a few steps above her. “It’s kind of stupid, you know? I doubt any of this even helps us in the long-term.”
“It doesn’t.” But the future was a ticket out of whatever this empty slate was. She thought. She hadn’t dared to share it to anyone who insisted that this was all she ever needed. It was useless to convince her otherwise because, honestly, the longer they stayed, the longer it felt like pieces of herself were starting to die.
There was a building nearby that had a nice view of the city, and Green had asked the others if they could spare time to just look around, to loiter, or anything that wasn’t rotting away at their house. It just so happened that this was the day that everyone else happened to be busy with something else. Lately, they’ve always been, and it was supposed to be normal but for some reason it still ached. Not the stinging kind, either; that they can easily handle. Yellow might’ve said that she was busy too, but all she ever had was more and more work, and maybe, a part of her just didn’t want to leave Green alone, too.
Though, they kind of wished someone else was here, too. Preferably Blue— not that Green was a horrible person to have around. But there was never quite much to talk about with him one-on-one with her than with any of the others. Judging from how unusually quiet he was, Yellow could probably guess he’s thinking of something similar to her.
Sorry, then.
Sorry she wasn’t similar enough to him.
Even if it really wasn’t their fault.
“I just felt like I was too busy trying to survive to bother with the future, ya know? Not like I don’t care, but it was less of a plan and more of a possibility.” Green pushed at the door leading to the rooftop. The door squeaked open, and Yellow caught notice of the rusted hinges and the lack of a door handle, the way that Green barely had to push and hold it open so she could step out onto the roof. Or the fact that it’s cold, too cold for autumn, but there was barely any wind.
Green sits down next to the ledge at the very end of the roof as usual, with one of his knees tucked next to him, and Yellow just looks around. It gets awkward after a bit, like the stretch emptiness was symbolic, and she walks back next to Green, her hands on top of the ledge and staring out, not down; she already knew what she'd see if she looked down.
She knew, because before someone had gone and done it before she did, she assessed the height of the ledge over the streets. She knew before the nets were placed down, before it was labeled a hazard by the authorities, before a scratched skateboard and news articles reached her little bubble and popped it. And now it wasn’t just a thought in her head to go, it was a possibility.
“It’s kind of funny. That they have nets to stop you from jumping but they never lock the door that lets you go on the roof.”
Green doesn’t say anything, just nods slowly in response, and Yellow can’t help but think that she’s already done something wrong. She couldn’t say anything else, so she just continued to stare, the sounds of traffic echoing below.
It felt nice, kind of.
It made the world appear as if it was farther away.
“Do you get terrified of getting older?” She asks him out of the blue, after the stretch of silence starts to feel uncomfortably long. They weren’t used to it, and it didn’t feel like he was, either; their worlds were always filled with so much noise, of music and the tapping of keys, of exclaimed expectations and stomach-aching laughter.
“Not really. Things feel like they get less impressive, though. If you know what I mean. I get that I’m already fine, even great. Just not the way that can make me happy.”
“Exactly.” Except she didn’t need to make herself happy. They didn’t need to feel satisfied or good or fine about themself. It wasn’t important the way that being practical did.
And it didn’t matter what other people said.
“You just gotta live life a little, just feel like you’re okay and then you’ll be okay. You can’t beat yourself up so much.” Green replied in a mockingly sarcastic voice that was so him, that Yellow cracked a smile for the first time in… how long? A while, at least since the last time she caught herself smiling. It was so stupid, and it made it funny.
“How many times have people said that to you in good faith?”
“Too many times to count, it might not be the exact words, but it sounds like that to me.” Green gestured towards her, and it took too long until she realized he was motioning them to answer too.
“Not much. I don’t talk about it to other people. I don’t even know why I’m saying it to you.”
Green shrugged, “It’s fine. That’s kind of why I asked you all to come here, to just talk about things as the weather gets colder. You know how things are around this time. I prefer the summer more, and I hate when it starts dying.”
“Yeah.” Yellow mumbled. After a long pause, she added “I’m scared.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m scared.” Yellow repeated, then gestured at themselves, then at Green. “I’m scared that this is what I’ll forever be. Guilty.” Worthless.
“Guilty of what?”
Of not being enough. Of course, Green would be someone who could probably understand. Though instead, it was the world that wasn’t enough for him.
Yellow didn’t need the world, not the way they did. She didn’t need an audience for love and praise, or for the world to love her in a conditional shell of ideas; she’s far past that.
But they both weren’t enough in their own ways, and compensated by making the others, whoever they may be, happy— Or at least, be worth something.
So, in a sense, Green understood, but not in the way she did. Because they weren’t like her, no one would ever call him useless without the instant response of how absurd it was, that Green could ever be useless. If they were to insult him, it would be about his arrogance, how he took things a little too far in competition, or the way he got mad at loss. Being nothing would be the last criticism any person would ever think of him.
Yellow doubted the same could be said for her, honestly. Not in the way she was doing everything right now. If they were going to do something to fix whatever it is that’s going on right now, they better do it right. Failure was normal; until it hurt in catastrophic ways.
“All I am is just being there.”
Green pursed her lips, “Yeah. And it feels as though you’re never good,” he finished her thoughts. “Okay, but never the kind that matters.”
“Mhm.”
“I know, I don’t look as though I’m the person that could understand it. But it just happens that way. They tell me, ‘I’m enough no matter what I do,’ but they don’t know me and what I want to be.” Green pulls a small bit of lint out of his jacket pocket and pulls at it with his fingers.
Yellow didn’t know how to respond to that. She didn’t want to.
“Our friends are still alive, I’m still alive. And you are, too.” Green added, likely to avoid the emptiness of silence again.
“I don’t know if I deserve to be.”
And there it was, something that this darn place out of everything manages to get out of her what hundreds of other heart-to-heart discussions haven’t. There was the truth, and the kind that had so many counterarguments against, logically. She still couldn’t find one discernible reason to justify her life.
Green was silent, again. Cursors, she hated that word now. Maybe about all the times everyone could’ve lost each other and themselves. Or they could be thinking that she’s right, that she really didn’t deserve it.
Did they really think that little of Green? They’ve cared so much about their friends that it hurts, and yet here she is, doubting him.
These thoughts didn’t care about rationality, though. She should’ve known that. She should know it all by now, yet, ironically, she never learns. Especially not from her mistakes.
“You’re starting to scratch at your arms.” Green tugs on her sleeve, and she stops, because he’ll get concerned and frankly, she didn’t need him to be. “Did you hear what I said earlier?”
“No, I didn’t.” And there she was, not meeting his gaze. Not listening to whatever he has to say because she was too busy drowning in her thoughts.
“Ah, well. I just said that there’s no one way to feel like you deserve to live, because I don’t think I’d be able to convince you otherwise. You’re really stubborn when you want to be.”
“So do you.” Yellow replied, automatically, before she realized too late. Her hands reach for their arms by instinct. Green shakes his head at her. She sighs, dropping her hands to her sides and picking at the fabric of her pants instead.
“Yeah, but mine’s the kind that makes other people outright annoyed at me, while yours is the kind that makes you annoyed at other people.”
“I don’t see it.”
“You don’t notice a lot of things, like the ways other people talk about you.”
“Do you care that much about what other people think?” Yellow crossed her arms.
A pause. “Sometimes. I kind of wish I was more like you when it happens, because it starts to hurt when you realize you can’t ever make everyone happy without lying to yourself.”
“I don’t need to make everyone happy.” Just her friends, and she wasn’t even good at that. That had been, for a long time, her only purpose, and they still failed.
Green stood up, and leaned his arm against the ledge. “I like that about you.”
“You wish… you were more like me.” Yellow almost laughed, again, at the sheer absurdity of it.
“Why?”
“It’s stupid, right? Of course, not everything, but it’s just how you don’t need to insist on yelling to the world that you’re amazing to believe that.” A light breeze had started to pick up, and Yellow shivered a little, wringing her hands.
“I don’t believe that I’m amazing in any sense. Not in the way all of you guys are.” Green’s gaze landed on her bracelet, and then she could feel their eyes on them again.
“You might not believe that, but we all do, likely in the same way that you view us.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t really doubt it.
so what was it that made it so hard?
“You were pretty shocked when you realized you actually have traits that other people want.”
“I don’t think that anyone would want to be me, ever.”
“I think we’re getting off topic, here.”
“What was even the topic?” Yellow asked, almost rhetorically. “About me being depressing?”
“Hey, you were the one who brought it up? But still, it’s something interesting. It’s like we want to be anybody other than ourselves.”
“It’s really funny, because we want to be different in the same way.” She adds, feeling useless again.
And again.
And again.
“People say I’m enough, Yellow. It feels really sticking bizarre.”
She lifts their shoulders, and then lets them sink back down with a sigh.“They say I matter.”
Green chooses, at that moment, to reach her arms out for a hug. She was probably just sick of all the words in the universe failing him again. Not like Yellow was complaining, and they lean in and hug back. It feels warm, and she’ll die tired.
“It gets hard to believe a lot of times. Especially when you spend all your time pushing your own self away so that it always seems like it’s been that way.” Yellow felt him take a breath. In, then out.
“The world is so big and if you’re scared that this is what you’ll be for the rest of your life, I guess you have to, as cliche as it is, let go of it. Easier said than done, but time would be precious and it’ll still be in your favor if— you stay.”
“I guess so. Thanks… Green.” It still didn’t solve the bigger elephant in the room, and maybe this wasn’t going to do anything.
At least she wasn’t alone.
“I’m sorry. I know you shouldn’t talk about this, not after what happened in the past.”
“It’s okay, I’ll have to, eventually.”
She waits for Green to let go of them, and when he doesn't, she buries herself further, the cold beads of his necklace pressed against her skin.
She hated it, hated having to be comforted like this because they shouldn’t be able to feel. She can’t leave, though; even if it’ll hurt less. Her friends were the last line of defense; she knew she couldn’t leave now, not when Green was here. Not when her friends were here and she needed them, desperately, to stay. Even if it felt like it was killing her bit by bit to be alive.
“I know we aren’t that close, at least, not compared to the others. But it’s like I’m learning about all of this for the first time.” Yellow smiled ruefully, and stood. They walked to the middle of the roof.And then she started spinning around for no reason at all. There was nothing really of reason behind it, but Green joins her until they both almost fall from dizziness and the world swirls in its confusion.
“It’s dumb, all of it.” She answered, to nothing at all.
“It kind of is, in all respects.”
It’s a little bit more okay.
.
.
.
“Do you want to get ice cream?”
It was about as abrupt as the start of the conversation, but Yellow silently thanks him for the distraction. The sky was already dark, and the temperature was dropping fast.
They talked longer, about things she couldn’t remember, things neither of them would ever probably say, but they didn’t need to. Cursors, though, because it was still along the lines of everything that made them worry.
They walk back down the stairs, hand in hand. The streetlights were glowing and the air looked gray.
Maybe they’ve been up here for hours, or longer. She didn’t remember, or really care at all. It really was better than rotting away inside.
“I don’t like ice cream. Let’s go get coffee instead.”
“You’re going to regret that next morning.”
Yellow smiled weakly: She couldn’t care less, and the sense of normalcy came back again. There it was.
It felt a tiny bit lighter. She didn’t quite have the name for it.
Acceptance, maybe, or just plain clarity.
But it was different, in the way of change.