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Oftentimes, it feels as if Zeal has lived a thousand places and experienced all the world has to offer. His family situation had given him the blessing of traveling the world, but it left him so void of personal connection that he left it all behind to work at a bar in a small town working paycheck to paycheck.
Zeal worked and went about life with all the pressures of his life’s experience that it felt as if he were closer to 90 than 30. And sure, sometimes he missed the convenience of his own penthouse suite with the best views of the city, but it was exactly this picture that made him remember why he had left “home” so long ago.
Zeal had spent his entire life chasing a story that he wasn’t even sure he wished to be part of, and with all the combined pressures of his family, his dreams, and a job he never never found purpose in, the fight to pursue became a fight to simply survive.
So, he left. Zeal had cut ties, burnt bridges and attempted to make a home out of what was left from the ashes. Moving apartments, becoming a bartender, letting his hands lose their grip on any reality he had ever known, because if that was the destiny he was meant to face, then he wanted no part of it. Zeal would write verses between the lines of latitude, he would find warmth in the fire of his determination; Zeal would be the author of his own destiny even if it killed him.
While Zeal could delude himself into thinking that forgoing his trust fund for a life that he would carve with his own hands was what he truly wanted, the fact of the matter was still that he was only fighting to survive. Every hardship felt like the crash of a wave on top of an ocean that Zeal could already not tread against. The fight became too exhausting, to swim was a death sentence, so Zeal got by, free-floating in hopes that if he never disturbed the current, it wouldn’t disturb him.
Between empty rooms and ruinous oceans, Zeal wasn’t quite sure where else he had left to go.
On nights where the closing shift was just a little too silent, with patrons just slightly abrasive enough to tick him off, and the overdue bills piling up on the counter, sometimes it still felt like the world was after him.
It was as if the universe was looking down at him, condescendingly, saying “how will you get out of this now?”
It filled Zeal with an emotion that he was too familiar with, a pit of boiling anger that grew and manifested itself into clenched fists and holes in walls. It created a monster in him that he hated to face. It was what made him retreat into the shadows, away from the reach of other people.
But then, there was Kaelix.
Persistent and lovable Kaelix Debonair. Zeal had never met a character quite like Kaelix, and he was certain he never would have had he not chosen to turn away all those years ago. Only Kaelix could take Zeal by the hands, gently unraveling them and grasping them tightly, reminding Zeal that he was capable of more than just brutal destruction, that he was able to weave love and care through gentle caress and timbres of voice like nobody else could.
When Zeal had wandered without purpose and searched for a life worth living, all he had ever found were empty spaces. When he had run into Kaelix it was as if Zeal was the sunflower realizing the warmth of the sun for the first time, revitalized.
But at the same time, it was exactly nights like this that served as a reminder that Zeal would never want to be anywhere but exactly where he stands now: shoes kicked off at the doorway, the aroma of a sweet ginger tea brewing in the kitchen, the hum of what Zeal thinks is the most angelic voice known to man, and the back of the love of his life bathing in the warm hue of the kitchen light, like an angel sent from heaven, clad in his shirt and an old pair of sweatpants, his hair ruffled and glasses slightly askew.
When Kaelix turned around and smiled at him, Zeal knew, there was nowhere else he would rather be than at the mercy of his lover.
Kaelix Debonair had stretched his hand out to Zeal Ginjoka, and Zeal had forgotten what it was like to live without him entirely.
As soon as Kaelix had bounded into his life with a wink and a smile, Zeal realized that he never wanted to know a life without Kaelix in it. When he took his hand, Zeal had become so much more than just being adrift at sea. Even simply being a small presence next to Kaelix felt selfish, to be able to love and be loved by him felt something of a parallel world, but it granted Zeal a feeling of fulfillment that he would have found if he had never come to fall so helplessly in love with the bouncer.
It was strange, how Zeal had felt his mind, mangled and twisted in defense of itself, began to loosen and unravel. A mind once programmed and trained to fight for its survival was now at the luxury of security and warmth.
Sometimes Zeal would be tempted with the idea of dropping everything and running, unbelieving that he was worthy to be privy of such a luxury. But with a simple touch of the hand by Kaelix, Zeal could be brought back down to earth. No matter how far he’d go, Zeal knew he would look back and realize that he could never leave this home. So he’ll root his feet in the ground, and grit his teeth against every hardship and every trial that is thrown against him, if only to protect what he’s found.