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Today was a slow day. Bill was tired and had gone to lie down a while ago since he had been up late the previous night and now it was starting to catch up with him. After he went down Hal decided to tidy up a bit, pick up the living room, wipe down the table, wash any dishes left over in the sink in the kitchen, etc. He thought about vacuuming the floor but was afraid that would be too loud and wake up his twin.
Another time he figured. For now, he sat down in the living room and turned on a movie that he could only really enjoy by himself. Bill nor their mother really understood films like The last wave or Picnic at hanging rock. It was too slow, too ambiguous, and the artistic and cultural aspects of both films were a bit lost on his twin and their mother. They didn’t get it. Hal never held it against them though. Too each their own, after all.
In today’s case he decided to watch Diva. Mostly definitely his family wouldn’t hang with this one. It was a French thriller film about a young postal boy, Jules, who admired and longed for the affections of an opera singer, Cynthia. Despite the film being a thriller of which the young man in question was fleeing two groups who were after a tape he possessed, the film was just as much of an artistic splendor. The way the characters interacted, moved about their environments, various ways their figures, shapes and colors were placed within the shots, everything about it drew Hal in.
Hal loved listening to them speak. He knew nothing about French, but the language sounded beautiful. He wished he could speak it himself. For now all he had was Duo Lingo on his phone. He mostly worked alone, taking notes, trying to recite the words back to himself when he could. Sometimes his mother caught him in the middle of his lessons, to which she’d ask him what he was up too. He had a hard time trying to explain himself to her, not really knowing what to say. Not to say his mother was unsupportive, but sometimes she didn’t really understand what he was interested in.
He had gotten at least part way into the movie, well after Jules had come clean about stealing her dress after her performance. Cynthia was angry, rightfully so, but was eventually charmed by Jules’s innocence and sweetness. That’s right about where Bill walked in, hair messy like one of Hal’s paint brushes, clothes ruffled.
“Jeez, I didn’t even hear you come up.” Hal sighed, being so into his movie he didn’t even detect the creaks in the stairs. “Sleep okay?”
Bill said nothing, only going over to his twin and flopping down next to him on the couch.
“You good?”
“… Just, drained.” Bill sighed, rubbing his eyes.
“Hm. You want something to eat? Drink?”
“No, I’m good. Whatcha watching?”
“A movie.” Hal answered.
“Right but, what kind?” Bill said.
“French film.”
“Ah.” Bill watched the screen, taking in the deep blue that had colored the screen now. Hal felt slightly uncomfortable. He had only ever watched Diva in his own company, not with someone.
“I can change it, we don’t have to-“
“No. Leave it.”
Hal raised a brow. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, all right.”
Perhaps he could have filled in on what was happening or what Cynthia and Jules were up to. But Bill seemed tired and mostly likely not up for much discussion. So Hal didn’t push it. Besides, he was curious to see what his twin would take from the scene without any context.
The pair eventually made up and were now wandering the rainy Paris. A piano quietly played as they strode beneath their shared umbrella taking in the sights. The dark colors always drew Hal in, a sort of an all-encompassing deep blue, as if someone took a palette knife and dragged it across the surface of the image. He liked that they filmed this scene during the rain, an otherwise unflattering aspect of the weather. It was easy to film Paris in the bright sunshine, entice their audience in.
Yet the empty places of where the pair walked, seemingly in their own world as they admired the view around them, walking on the damp cement felt much more real to Hal. Less idealized. Jules and Cynthia’s bond felt a similar way. It was intimate, but not overtly romantic. There was an attraction between them, a fondness, yet they were very appropriate with one another.
The notes of the piano sounded like they were floating off, like little blue motes, fading off into the air. It was perfect. So peaceful. So content. Hal wished he could sit there forever, just admiring the scene and the music. Eventually the scene slowly came to an end, with Cynthia lying in her spot on her bed, sleeping peacefully, and Jules lying on her couch, covered in a thin sheet staring up at the ceiling contemplating their afternoon together.
It was just about to cut into the next scene with Gorodish and Alba, until Bill spoke. “Can you rewind it?”
“Hm? Rewind it?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
“Uh, yes of course.” Hal replied, trying to conceal his surprise. He wondered what Bill saw in that scene exactly.
They watched the entirety of the pair’s sentimental walk around Paris, Jules and Cynthia’s shy but loving interactions with one another, as the notes of the piano slowly floated into their ears. Bill seemed lost almost, as Hal glanced over to him. His eyes were glassy, transfixed onto the blue tinted screen. The younger boy wondered what Bill was thinking for a moment, what was going on in his head, what he was searching for in this short scene. Was it something in Jules? Cynthia? The places of Paris they ventured into?
“You draw him a lot.”
“Hm?” Hal turned to his twin.
“Him. That kid. Jules or whatever.” Ah. So it was him.
“Jules.” Hal corrected, smiling. “You have to pronounce it like how the French do.”
“Jules.” Bill repeated. Hal laughed, turning more to him.
“No, no you got it wrong.”
“Okay well school me teach; how do I say it?” Bill snorted.
Hal pondered this for a moment. How did he explain this? He looked up to the ceiling, eyeing the wood in the roofing as if it would give him some kind of answer.
“Joooolz.”
Bill eyed him, curiously. “Come again?”
“Joolz. Instead of using the “u” sound, think of an “O.”
“Joooolz.” Bill drawled, stretching the words as if they were spaghetti. “Okay. I think I got it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’d still prefer to say Jules, like you know, jewels or something.”
Hal laughed, sitting back. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Well, I feel kinda pretentious going “Ah hah hah, oui, oui, Jules!” Bill air quoted, his best imitation of a snotty Frenchman.
“Oh, for god’s sake I knew you were gonna go that way. For the record they don’t talk like that over-“
“Ah hauh hauh, bagette!”
“I hate you.”
Bill cracked up as Hal rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time. He had figured it’d only be a matter of time until this joke came along.
“But seriously. Why him? Why do you draw him so much?” Bill asked.
“Jules?”
“Yeah. I see you draw him a lot. Sometimes you save photos of him to your phone. Why him, in particular?” Bill pressed.
Hal was quiet for a moment. He searched Bill’s expression for any notion of a joke, like he had one ready at any second, like he was gonna tease Hal about being in love with him or something. Yet, no such teasing came his way. Bill’s eyes were still, inquisitive. He genuinely was curious.
“Well…” Hal trailed. Funny. He admired and loved everything about the young man, related to him so much that it hurt. Yet here and now when being asked why, his mind was blank.
“Wellllll what?” Bill pressed, meeting Hal’s distant eyes.
Speak what you feel.
“I admire him. A lot.”
“Why?”
“Well- because Jules is amazing. He’s so kind, and loving, and thoughtful… Yet this isn’t a story about his discontentment with his life, or his frustration with it. Where he is or isn’t. What he’s accomplished or hasn’t accomplished. He knows what he loves and appreciates the most. He just is.”
“I see.”
Bill didn’t say anything else, and Hal just kind of left it at that. They resumed their movie, as the Taiwanese duo, the mob and corrupt police chief were all after Jules’ tapes, one of which he unknowingly possessed. It was an never-ending pursuit of the boy, of which Jules struggled to keep up his speed from them. He handled the situation as best he could, fleeing on his moped and barely getting away with an inch of his life.
When the film eventually came to an end, after he and Cynthia reunited in the Opera house again, she for the first time heard the tape he had illegally recorded during her performance. Hal could note the shock on her face, as she dropped her purse to the floor. She didn’t know what to say, only that she couldn’t believe it had been Jules. It was his gift to her, to share with the world. The gift of her music.
Cynthia replied she had never heard herself sing. Jules only told her to listen. And so they did. They stood close to one another, basking in each other’s presence, but never once did their lips join. As the credits rolled, both the twins sat in silence, listening to Cynthia’s voice.
Hal looked to Bill, whom sat quietly, even as the credits ended.
“Bill?”
“Hm?”
“You good?”
“Uh- Uh yeah.” His twin quickly said. “Just kinda zoned out for a moment.”
“What did you think?” Hal asked, to which again he was met with silence.
“Bill?”
For a brief moment he could see something building in the corners of Bill’s eyes, but before he could ask Bill suddenly rose from his spot going over to their kitchen. “I’m kinda craving some coffee you want some? I’ll make you a cup.”
He grabbed two cups out of the cupboard and then picked two random K-cups off the little wheel near their Keurig, setting the dark roast one in first.
“Uh, Bill that’s nice but we have school tomorrow and it's already like 5 p.m maybe we shouldn’t- “
“I’ll put extra creamers in yours. You like the French vanilla right?”
“Well, yes but- “
“I’ll put in three.”
Hal didn’t try to argue with him anymore. Bill was clearly bothered by something, so he let it go. He listened as the Keurig croaked to life, letting out it's little ‘errs’ as it pushed out the darkened liquid into Hal’s favorite Kirby cup. Bill put Hal’s cup together first, then his own, giving this otherwise small task his full complete attention. When he finally faced Hal his expression was still, foggy almost. Bill brought over their cups to his twin and they drank their coffee in silence. Hal’s coffee tasted too sweet, wishing Bill had subtracted at least one creamer so some of the bitterness seeped through, but said nothing of it.
They drank their coffee in silence until their mother got home which wasn’t too long after. She had come home a little early from her date and by the looks of it, it didn’t seem to go well. She didn’t go into detail why but neither of the twins asked. She had brought some takeout for them since it was little late to start cooking dinner. After eating, Bill retired to sleep early, and Hal followed suit not too long after.
As they lay in the dark, the heavy silence lingered in the air. Hal almost felt suffocated.
“Bill?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Bill sighed, clearly annoyed. “Yeah I’m good Hal, just shut up and go to sleep.”
Hal didn’t feel stung, not really. Bill was only abrasive when something was really bugging him. Without thinking, he rose up from his spot and went over to his twin, climbing in with him. He expected Bill to tell him to screw off or throw a pillow in his face. But neither of those things came. Instead, he allowed Hal to come close, letting him wrap an arm around him. He didn’t reject nor accept the affection, but Hal wasn’t bothered by that. Not when he could feel Bill’s shaking frame. He wasn’t a loud crier by any means, but Hal could sense when his twin was in distress.
Hal sighed, bringing Bill closer to him. “Diva” must have knocked down some of the walls around his heart. Hal couldn’t blame him. Even a couple years later and Hal still teared up after watching the scene where Jules and Cynthia walked around Paris together, in the rain. It brought out a deep longing in him, and clearly in Bill too, only that his twin didn’t know how to process his emotions. He didn’t like sitting with them or having to ponder his thoughts alone. He was used to just shoving them to the back of head, not having to acknowledge or care about them.
Hal could only think to hold him, leaning his head onto his shoulder, feeling the cold chain of Bill’s necklace on his cheek. He must have forgotten to take it off.
“We’ll watch Scooby or something tomorrow. How does that sound?”
Bill nodded, still saying nothing.
“And make some popcorn. But probably no more coffee. I’m wide awake now.” Hal lightly joked. Again, Bill nodded, and Hal decided to leave it at that.