Chapter Text
It was 2012. Archie sat at his desk, a wooden antique with his brand-new desktop computer on top. The desk matched his house, old and filled with antique furniture. It was way too big for just one person, but humble considering his rising salary as an accomplished lawyer and the many bribes he took from clients.
He never wanted a family, though he was a bit lonely. It was really just him all the time, except for his few cats that prowled around his yard and house. He had a big yard, a few empty acres that he let become overgrown to keep himself even more isolated.
He opened Facebook to scroll, his new favorite pastime. He never posted, but he had quite a decent list of friends, few of whom he actually talked to though. He looked within his notifications, and he was invited to an event. He wondered what the hell it could be.
It read: “BOYS TRINITY HIGH SCHOOL CLASSES 1970-1980 REUNION”
He’d never thought there’d be anything like that, no reunions had happened before; it seemed no one wanted to be reminded of that hell. It was sent the night before, and a lot of people had already RSVP’d. He looked at the list.
He first recognized John Carter, one of his Facebook friends he never talks to anymore. His profile photo was a selfie of just him in his pickup truck. He wore reflective sunglasses that mirrored his hands holding his phone in the air for the picture. He had a grey goatee, and he looked bald under his baseball cap. He looked bigger now too, not keeping his former physique. He still looked strong, but there was undoubtedly an impressive beer-belly under that steering wheel. Other than that picture, pictures of his truck, and a few Bible quotes, there was nothing else posted.
Carter was the traitor, who Archie vowed revenge upon when he least expected it. He never did anything. This promise of revenge was enough. Carter spent the rest of his life paranoid, from his wedding day to his son’s graduation, he wondered if it would finally be the day that insane Archie Costello would strike. Yet, it never happened, not yet.
Archie then looked for another name: Janza. He found nothing. Dissatisfied, he turned to Google. He typed in his name, which was distinct enough to come up with precise results. He came up on the legal sites he had access to as a lawyer; Emile was a damn criminal. Archie was surprised by these records, but not because he was a convict, but because he was still alive as of recently.
He looked at the record: aggravated battery… drug possession with intent to distribute… resisting, evading or obstructing an officer (arrest)... criminal trespass (public)... robbery through force or intimidation… another aggravated battery
It was a pretty extensive list, but not surprising for a brute like him.
He excitedly scrolled back up and clicked on his mugshot. It wasn't too old, from 2008. He could see tattoos on his chest above the prison-uniform collar. He gave a condescending look of no remorse. He looked muscular, but a bit thinner; his cheeks were hollowed. His hair was still longer, and now also thinned and salt-and-pepper colored. He looked really muscular. He really was the same brute as he was almost 40 years ago. He looked up at the camera with his same small, brown eyes— it’s beautiful really how the eyes never age or change.
He then searched for a specific name: Jerry Renault. It was a bit pathetic at his age, but he thought about him near-daily. He liked to recall how he put him down all the way back in high school when he needed a boost of confidence. He found him. He shook his head and smiled to himself, clicking on his profile. It was public: beautiful. He was in Québec. He went back to Canada and stayed. His occupation was “prédicateur” at something “église.” He felt stupid having to Google what the hell that was.
Jerry was a preacher. Archie had drove people to suicide, attempted murder, attempted rape, and now, apparently, to find Jesus. That was something new. Yet, he had never forced to, he had driven to.
He scrolled to find a picture of him, and he zoomed in. He had the same face, but obviously aged. His hair was now buzzed and thinning and he wore glasses. He zoomed in further on Jerry’s blue eyes which squinted as he smiled, standing in the back and posing with his family. He moved lower, upon the silver cross necklace he wore. Pious piece of shit. He moved lower further; he was in good shape too. He scoffed jealously, he looked good for his age.
He then zoomed out, looking at the family with him. There were two college-aged girls. Despite their long hair in dramatic side-parts and their small and feminine stature, they looked identical to Jerry otherwise; they were definitely his daughters. Jerry’s wife was beside him, a petite blonde who also looked perfect, like she’d be a celebrity promoting some beauty-product scam. She was beyond anything he could have pulled in high school, but everything was different now.
He scrolled through his posts. There were family photos, Bible quotes, a fundraiser for breast cancer, and pictures of his dogs; he seemed so perfect, and it pissed Archie off.
He thought of someone else to search: Goober. What was his real name, even? He wondered. Roland. But Roland what? He typed a few possibilities: “Gruber” … “Gouber” … “Goobert” … “Goubert.” He couldn’t find him; he didn’t have Facebook.
Though, he had actually seen him a few years back. It was at some CVS a few towns from Monument. He recognized him, even though he really looked different. His awkward pubescence was what stood out about him before, and now, he was just a man. He was really tall and fit, still looking like a runner. Archie approached him. He had nearly completely forgotten about him, and he couldn’t wait to have his questions about him answered.
Goober paused, trying to recognize the face in front of him. It was so familiar. “Hey, Goober.” Archie greeted slyly.
Of course that nickname had stuck, but it caught him off guard to hear it from a stranger in a supermarket instead of one of his buddies. Goober then recognized him by that tone of voice and those cruel, intelligent, blue eyes: Archie Costello.
He smiled awkwardly, still intimidated, but what could he do now? Anything to hurt him could get him locked up; they were grown men. He greeted him back.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” Archie asked.
“Well, nothin’ much, you?”
“How’s your life? Are you married? Do you have kids?”
“I have two sons, and uh, no, I’m not married.” Goober answered.
“Oh no, what happened?” Archie asked condescendingly.
“Uh, well, she cheated on me.” Goober admitted sheepishly, not realizing he didn’t have to answer all of Archie’s rude questions anymore. God, why did he say that? Archie snickered inappropriately.
“What?” Goober said with a shrug, “What’s going on with you? Are you married?”
Archie quickly brushed over himself being single, and instead took his opportunity to speak to brag about his job. Goober then said how he was a physical therapist, and how his sons were star athletes and great in school. Interesting. They then said goodbye. It was awkward, but Archie didn’t regret it. He always loved to know what everyone was up to.
He then searched the list for another name: “Bunting.” He had RSVP’d. He was his Facebook friend, another one he did not care to keep in touch with. He didn’t have any pictures of himself on his profile. He just had pictures of his son, who played baseball for some college, a few responses to news articles (nothing innovative, just recycled conservative takes), and some pictures of the woods and sunsets. He worked in business for some insurance company. He didn’t seem married, probably divorced. Nothing new.
After leaving high school, he’d heard Emile drove him up a wall, practically flipped their power dynamic, as he had no problem beating Bunting up if he refuted his ideas. No matter how hard he tried, he never had earned his respect or affection like Archie did. Eventually, after some drug-related stunt, Brother Leon officially put an end to The Vigils. Of course, he couldn’t really, and meetings continued. Though, after Bunting graduated, no one carried it on, leaving Trinity to become… normal.
And Leon? He had been dead for years. Archie actually was invited to his funeral a few years back. He didn’t end up going, to avoid being surrounded by old men who remembered him with contempt and would question his church-going. He found Leon’s obituary a bit later. He had “passed away peacefully at an old age”. Nothing too interesting.
Archie went back to the list, looking up another name: Obie. Another Obie came up on the RSVP list, but not who he was looking for. He wouldn't have expected him to even consider going. Obie Jameson was his Facebook friend though, so he looked up his profile on his own.
There Obie was, the boy Archie was in love with for his whole adolescence, who had also tried to kill him. Now, he was a successful doctor with a wife and kids.
He knew Obie had some sort of feelings for him back in high school, and they did have a bit of a sexual relationship. It was never satisfying for either. Archie wanted a little bit of appreciation, love, even, but Obie just wanted a brief moment of power and an orgasm.
In the summer before senior year, when neither had girlfriends and Obie was beyond fed up with Archie, they started something sexual. It kept Obie in line for a little longer— and it was a good time. It was an “experimental phase”, Obie would tell his wife.
Not only did Obie despise Archie their whole time together, but their lifestyles would never work out. Archie was always going to con people, to bring himself on the top and drag others into his problems; Obie was quiet, practical, not wanting trouble. He was a family man at heart, wanting to settle down in a stable life with a loving spouse and kids— and the thought of that was enough to make Archie gag.
This was to Archie’s dismay, as in his head, he’d imagined Obie by his side his whole life. Beyond high school, that would make him like a spouse rather than a stooge; adults don’t have stooges— at least not in the way of high-schoolers. God, he really thought they would spend their lives together, and yet, they had barely spoken a word to each other since graduation.
Though, the both of them always found time to look each other up online, to see what they were missing out on with each other. Both never posted, to each other’s disappointment. But, Obie’s wife did.
Archie always checked her profile, he was even friends with her. She was Sharon Jameson, a public high school math teacher. She was pretty, a freckled, curly-haired redhead. She had a son, daughter, and cats with Obie. They looked really happy together. Obie’s eyes were of course the same, but they didn’t look tired or miserable like they used to.
Archie still found him attractive. He was still thin. He still wore the same type of glasses and dressed the same. His face was still long and narrow, now looking more natural, as he always somewhat had the face of an older man even while young. His hair was shorter and thinning, but kept reminisce of its curly texture from his youth. His two kids —daughter and son— had his narrow face. It was almost uncanny how much his son looked just like him; one would hope his teenage years only resembled his father’s in his appearance— and thankfully, that was true. Obie was doing great.
Obie told his wife all about Archie. He told his kids too, who were always eager to hear details of his insane lore from high school. Though for them, he left out the details of the homoeroticism of their relationship, and the attempted murder— perhaps he’d wait until they’re even older. But, a moral and honest man like himself would of course tell his wife. She was fine with this, even found it amusing and was grateful to know about it. She too had rough times and cruel thoughts, and yet, turned out just fine, just like Obie. She couldn’t picture a more perfect husband; he had nothing to hide.
She had asked Obie if he was bisexual, and perhaps he was, but strangely only for Archie. He didn’t need to think about that though, as he had a perfect wife right beside him. Even if he and Archie could have somehow worked out, he would never be nearly as happy as he was with her.
Archie looked at her profile, getting the usual pit in his stomach. He then closed Facebook. The reunion was only two weeks away, and he sure was excited.