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It must have been 20 years ago when Bill met Pim. Granted, the only reason he talked to him was out of pity. He remembers it as clear as day that a small pink kid with huge eyes and glasses looked so alone. Seeing him in their science class trying to talk to the other kids in vain,
“So, have you seen any new movies? Or TV shows? Maybe video games,” he’d ask them, his eyes big and desperate.
“What’s the answer to number 13?” they’d respond. Diligently, he’d slide over his paper, repeating the cycle. That was that.
After the second week of seeing him get ignored and then used for answers, Bill took it upon himself to save this kiud from a cycle of dependability. Pushing up his glasses, he walked up to Pim’s group table. To this day, nothing had ever made him feel prouder than the joyful look Pim gave him when he greeted him with a simple “Hi, I’m Bill.”
To Bill’s surprise, Pim was less of a geeky loser than he assumed. Of course, he had obscure knowledge of things like original Playstation video games and knew most of Star Trek line for line, but realistically, there was no reason he should be an outcast. To Bill, Pim was funny and intelligent, a little weird but charming.
When he introduced Pim to his friend group (deciding to do so after realizing that Pim ate his lunch under the bleachers so other kids wouldn’t throw food at him), it was rocky, to say the least. While his friend Duncan took to Pim, Filmore was more weary and, after introductions, took Bill aside the first time Pim sat with them,
“You think this guy is, like, cool?” Filmore was whispering to him, “He is kind of annoying.”
“Give him a chance; he’s not so bad,” Bill said, though Filmore was still skeptical.
Ultimately, it took two months before Filmore acknowledged Pim as part of the group and another month before he considered Pim a friend. It was then Pim started to hang out with them outside of school. They took turns having sleepovers at each other’s houses, though they never stayed over at Pim’s for some reason. The first time they went to the arcade, Bill watched, impressed, as Pim’s little legs played Dance-Dance Revolution with a practiced finesse that was only rivaled by the pure, godly skill Duncan possessed. They only went bowling once but were immediately turned away, not believing Pim to be a teenager and insisting that an adult must accompany children under 12. Sometimes, they’d all go camping in the small wooded area behind Filmore’s house, eating s’mores until Duncan threw up and Bill lost his appetite. At some point, it became difficult to remember doing these things when Pim wasn’t around; even when Pim got inexplicably grounded, they all just waited for him to be able to hang out again.
Slowly, Pim became more comfortable, and though he hung out with his friends just as often, Bill would sometimes see him conversing with people from his other classes. No matter what, at lunch, he’d always sit with Filmore, Duncan, and Bill, talking easily as if he’d been with them all day. He’d tell them about any drama among his peers or even share old stories from his pen pal. Bill watched him listen to whatever Filmore was rambling about with a smile on his face and a feeling in his chest that he didn’t understand.
Maybe a year into the friendship was when things started to change. It’s easy to blame puberty, budding new feelings and chemicals flowing through Bill’s mind surrounding and guiding him. All Bill knew was that sometime in the middle of his sophomore year, he suddenly started to sweat when Pim came around.
He doesn’t remember how it happened or, rather, when it happened. Maybe when Pim got more settled into the friendship and relaxed more, maybe when Pim got those different friends he’d mention from time to time. Whenever it happened, all Bill knew was that Pim felt different. Still intelligent and funny, but now cool, cute even.
A certain look, an extra warm laugh, and any time Pim leaned near him was enough for Bill to feel flushed and hear his heart hammering. His palms would get sweaty when sitting next to Pim, and his throat unreasonably dry during the conversation. It all came to a head when Pim, sitting next to him on the curb as they waited for the bus, looked Bill in the eyes and told him with all the vulnerability in the world and said “Bill, you’re my best friend, and I trust you won’t tell anyone no matter what you think. And I have to be honest with at least someone.”
Bill blushed, ‘Pim trusts me; Pim is being vulnerable with me!’ his heart swooned, and he realized that no one else’s faith made him feel so special. Bill felt honored to be trusted by Pim. Suddenly, In the split second he had where Pim was hyping himself up to spill his secret, Bill realized that he had a crush on Pim Pimling, and he’s never felt better.
His face reddened when he felt Pim touch his knee, and he willed himself to focus on what Pim was saying instead of on those warm hands he desperately wanted to hold, “Bill, I think i’m gay.” Pim looked distressed, as if saying this out loud was enough to get him thrown in jail, and maybe that’s what his parents conditioned him to think. Bill could speculate, but Pim rarely talked about his parents and has never seen them.
“Are we still friends?” Pim averted his gaze and leaned away from Bill, leaving the place where his hand was unreasonably cold. His face was twisted with shame, and Bill felt awful for him.
“Pim, you’ve seen Filmore’s pride flag in his room, haven’t you? We don’t care about that,” Bill placed his hand on Pim’s shoulder, half to comfort him and half because he selfishly wanted to feel Pim’s warmth again. “I kind of suspected anyway. You talk a lot about Darth Maul.” Bill nudged Pim, relishing in the smile Pim gave at his quip,
“I just think he is cool.” He said, but his face was tinted red, and his smile widened, “I like his earring!”
Bill wanted to tease him further, make him flush from embarrassment, and maybe lean into him, scoot closer until their legs touched and their shoulders clashed. But the bus came.
Pim hopped up from the curb and pulled a crinkled dollar from his pocket. He smiled at Bill and waved, “See you tomorrow, Bill!” He said as he gripped the bus railing and pulled himself up. Bill watched as Pim gave the bus driver his fare and disappeared from his vision as he went to sit down.
Bill watched from the curb as the bus drove away, hoping to see Pim again before it drove off. Tomorrow felt so far away without him.
By the time they were in their senior year, Bill tried to ask Pim out on a date 32 times. Each time, Pim would confuse what Bill meant to be a date for hanging out with the group. Maybe that was Bill’s fault; after all, the way he asks is more than a little indirect. The last attempt was just this Friday after school. Bill drives Pim home sometimes when the bus decides not to show up, usually they listen to music and chat about school. But this time on the drive over, he dares to clear his throat to catch Pim’s attention. The steering wheel feels damp from his sweat, and he squeaks out a “Hey Pim” to his friend.
“What’s up, Bill?” Pim looks up at him with those huge eyes that somehow make Bill feel both encouraged and cowardly.
“I was just wondering if you’d want to see the new Transformers movie in theaters with me?” He fixed his gaze and attention on the road, afraid of Pim’s reaction and excited for it.
“Oh! That sounds wonderful, Bill!” Pim exclaimed.
‘Shoot and a score,’ Bill thought, already wondering what he’d wear for his hot date with Pim when,
“Have you already asked Duncan and Filmore? Oh, we HAVE to invite Duncan. You know how much he likes Transformers!” Before Bill can object, Pim is already pulling out his Nokia to text Duncan.
Bill smiles weakly, “I was going to invite them next, just had to make sure you wanted to go too!”. He plays off his loss the same way he always does, as if it was always in the plan to go as a gang. The rest of the car ride, Pim prattles on about his studies, and Bill can’t help but repeat ‘God dammit’ in his head, angry at himself for his lack of clarity. Again.
When Bill finally got home, he collapsed onto his bed. Exhausted and defeated, he dug into his shorts for his phone and called the only person he could vent to, Filmore.
“Hello?” Filmore's voice came in from the other end when the call was picked up
“Hey…” Bill was ready to tell Filmore his horrible blunder when Filmore started laughing, “What’s going on?” He asked, brows furrowed.
“Duncan just shot me a text; I guess that movie date isn’t going to go as planned?” Filmore chuckled at Bill’s expense, “I’m not surprised. You ask to do the same thing in the exact same way every time, expecting something different.”
“I know, it’s just harder to say ‘Let’s go on a date’ than it is to say ‘Let’s hang out,’” Bill lamented, sitting on his bed and burying his head into his free hand.
“Pim is always going to take what anyone says at face value. The only time Pim would ever look into things, is when he is trying to figure out if people think he is a loser or not.” It’s true, though Pim doesn’t mention it, and it’s not a big problem in their friend group; it’s no secret that Pim is very insecure. He constantly doubts other people’s opinions of him and often asks Bill to watch him to ‘Make sure he doesn’t talk too much’ around casual friends. It’s honestly foolish to assume that Pim would interpret Bill’s questions as anything but platonic; it’s just not his nature.
“You’re going to have to be more direct, Bill. You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t do something different.” Filmore said, breaking Bill out of his thoughts.
“Can’t you guys just say you can’t make it to the movies? Please?” Bill pleads, hoping his friends will give him a break.
“No way, Duncan loves Transformers! It’s like if Duncan invited you to see a rerun of Alien and then I asked you not to go.”
“You’re right, I guess.” Bill sighed, disappointed in himself and his situation, “I guess we are going to the movies.”
The only comfort was that he still got to sit next to Pim at the theaters, but with his friends around; he was too nervous to ‘pull the moves out’ and properly court Pim. The movie, however, was pretty good, and even though Pim’s glasses were broken in Junior year, he still enjoyed the experience.
After the movie ended Duncan and Filmore went to buy the poster for the movie while Bill stood next to Pim at the entrance. Pim was finishing the popcorn and looking off to where Duncan and Filmore went while Bill stepped closer to Pim until he shadowed him. “So, Pim, did you like the movie?” His voice cracked terribly from nerves, but Pim didn’t mention it, “Oh, it was pretty good, from what I could see.” Pim chuckled in a way that squeezed Bill’s heart, and he fought the urge to bend down and kiss Pim’s smiling lips.
“I really enjoyed the detail on the Allspark,” Bill said, eagerly waiting to hear Pim’s voice while brainstorming more ways to keep him talking.
“Oh yeah, I couldn’t see it too clearly, but the storyline around it was engaging, though a little inaccurate.” Pim dug his hands into the popcorn bag and started eating the unpopped kernels, never one to waste.
“I heard Duncan grumbling about it the whole movie until Filmore told him to treat it like a seperate continuity.” Pim turned to look at Bill, smiling and offering his full attention, but Bill froze under his gaze. His mouth opened, but he couldn’t think of anything to say and just as Pim shot him a confused look, Filmore came to the rescue. Holding up the poster over his head and beaming, Duncan trailing behind him with three more in his arms, “We had to bribe the workers to give us the one on display so we could all have a copy!” Filmore cackled as he wrinkled his poster excitedly, “Let’s go to my place, guys! Keep this party going!” He suggested, Duncan nodding eagerly beside him.
Just as Bill was going to agree, Pim spoke up nervously, “I, uh, can’t. I have to be home before my dad gets done with work. You guys go ahead.” Pim smiled softly before throwing the now-empty popcorn bag in the nearest trash. He waved to his friends, his poor vision preventing him from seeing the deflated look on Bill’s face, and started off to the parking lot to find his car.
He must have just started his car when Bill slapped against it, cringing at the way Pim jumped and hearing his scream through the closed windows. He stepped back as Pim opened the door and crawled out of the car,
“Bill, you almost gave me a heart attack! What was that about?” Pim looked almost annoyed, and Bill couldn’t help but think that even when he was upset with Bill, Pim looked awfully cute.
“Uh, well, you see, we are graduating soon, and uh, I was going to throw a graduation party after uh graduation if you wanted to come.” Pim smiled and put his hand affectionately on Bill's arm, sending tingles down the whole limb.
“You’re so silly. Bill, I’d love to go, but next time, just text me.” Pim pulled away and gave Bill a warm look before opening his car and getting back in.
Bill rubbed his arm, almost imagining Pim’s hand there, as he watched Pim drive away.
The graduation ceremony was long, arduous, and, most annoyingly, HOT! Bill felt his skin cooking under the intensity of the heat. Still, it was all worth it as he caught a glimpse of Pim, adorned with various sashes for his plethora of academic achievements, receiving his diploma. The smile on his face was radiant, and Bill was not ashamed to say that out of all his cheering friends, Bill screamed the loudest, pumping his fists in the air and nearly leaping from his seat in excitement. When he received his diploma, he could hear Pim cheering for him, waving his arms excitedly as if he were a celebrity, and yelling congratulations. While Pim also did this to Duncan and Filmore, Bill still felt unbelievably special. He was convinced that Pim cheered for him just a second longer and a touch louder.
The ‘graduation party’ Bill threw was less of a party and more of a glorified hang-out. Bill’s parents were out of town, so Filmore brought his edibles, and Pim brought his bong and weed. Bill supplied the alcohol, and Duncan, ever the party guest, brought his appetite and promptly raided Bill’s pantry while everyone else got set up.
Even as the “loser” kids, their little group partied as any teenager would. Trips to the field for UAP spotting usually consisted of lazily passing a blunt and talking about what they thought would happen if they ever had an encounter. Unsurprisingly, Filmore usually got too high to make sense about halfway through. However, it was still fun to listen to him ramble and talk about every conspiracy theory he had ever heard in his life.
This party, however, was different. For starters, they were at a house, not a mosquito-ridden park, but Bill also had a plan for this party. At this party, he would ask if Pim wanted to have a breather with him out on the porch, and then he’d finally ask Pim to be his boyfriend once and for all. He had been practicing it all night, no more vague questions; he was going to get Pim’s attention, look him in the eyes, and ask, ‘Pim I really like you, do you want to go on a romantic date with me?’ and then with Bills suave and charismatic personality, Pim would swoon and agree, ‘Oh Bill, you stud!’ he'd say. Then they’d kiss.
The party was going well for the most part. They played a few board games and watched a few movies. Filmore was already on a tangent about the government, but Duncan seemed to be amused.
Bill looked over at Pim, who suddenly got up to grab another drink. ‘Now’s my chance!’ Bill thought as he got up and trailed behind Pim for a moment. He took a strengthening breath and tapped Pim on the shoulder.
“Uh hey, Pim.” He froze for just a moment when Pim turned around and looked up at him,
“Hey, Bill, uh, nice party!” Pim smiled and held his drink up with silent cheers.
“Oh, it’s not a party. I mean, it’s more of a private celebration, I guess”. Bill rambled
“Oh, uh… okay. Well, it’s nice anyway.” Pim placed his hand onto Bill’s arms, intending to walk back to where he was sitting on the couch when Bill awkwardly slapped his hand over Pim’s from where it lightly rested on him, startling them both. In Pim’s other hand the drink he was holding spilled a little onto his arm. Pim’s eyes shot up to look into Bill’s own, demanding an explanation, though Pim would never actually say anything.
“Uh, sorry, I just-” Bill hastily removed his hand and backed away, watching Pim’s arm hang limply as he stared at him in confusion.
“Sorry again. I just kinda- I don't even know” Bill felt his face burn hotly. He was beyond embarrassed and regretted even talking to Pim. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to cool himself down and explain himself, for Pim’s sake, but only managed to let out a whine.
Pim looked concerned now, and Bill hoped his roof caved in over his head and crushed him. ‘There’s no way in Hell,’ Bill thought, ‘Pim would date me now.’ Bill nervously gripped the sleeve of his jacket and almost tried to excuse himself when Pim gently touched Bill's hand. ‘God, they are soft’
“Hey Bill, you don't look so good. Let’s go outside and get a breather.” Pim fully grabbed Bill’s hand now and directed him to the patio. Bill wanted to be excited; this was what he wanted. Unfortunately, the embarrassment shot his other feelings near dead, and when he rested against the fencing of his patio next to Pim, he rubbed the sides of his face to ground himself.
“I get nervous too, you know,” Pim said, though he was looking out into the backyard.
“Really?” Bill pretended to be surprised. It was no secret that as much as Pim was wild at parties, any dead time where no one was doing anything was enough for Pim to freeze with anxiety.
“Yeah, only when nothing is happening, though. There's suddenly pressure to do things right, make sure everyone is having fun.” Pim looked pointedly at him, and Bill realized that Pim was under the impression that Bill was buckling under the pressure to host a good party rather than struggling to confess his feelings.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Bill coughed into his hand before staring at Pim through the corner of his eye. Even with the limited visibility, Pim looked fantastic under the porch lights. They stayed there for a while. Pim was pointing out some fireflies he saw, and then he and Bill named them.
Bill’s nerves had dissipated by then, and his confidence skyrocketed after Pim laughed at his jokes and quips. And maybe it was the weed kicking in, but Bill felt all relaxed, fuzzy and warm near Pim. ‘I’m going to do it.’
Bill took a deep breath and reached out to touch Pims shoulder when there was a loud thud and a crash from inside. Immediately, Pim shot up and rushed inside, Bill following a moment later.
Inside was Duncan lying on the back of the couch asleep with puke on his shirt. The table was flipped over and Pim’s bong that rested on it shattered. Fillmore ran in from the kitchen with a roll of napkins and started wiping down Duncan. His motions were a little sluggish, but he looked alert and guilty when Bill met his eyes.
“Eh, what happened?” Bill asked, looking at Duncan, who was breathing just fine but stunk horribly. Pim obviously thought so, too, because when he stepped closer to help Filmore, he let out a little “augh” and whipped his head back as if to escape the smell.
“Oh, you know Duncan! He ate all your food and made himself sick. It came out of nowhere and scared me to shits! I knocked over the table accidentally, and some glass broke; sorry.” Filmore balled up the soiled napkins and stood to throw them away while Pim lifted the coffee table and put it back to where it was.
Bill watched Pim look at his broken bong sadly and was irritated at Filmore, almost willing himself to scold him. Filmore came back with a dustpan and a broom, and he and Pim got to work,
“I’m really sorry, Pim, I’ll buy you a new one, I promise!” Filmore swore as he swept the glass into the dustpan Pim was holding
“I’d really appreciate that! Maybe we can go shopping together for one!” Pim beamed at Filmore a little bit from genuine excitement but mainly to assure Filmore there were no harsh feelings.
They spent the rest of the party lightly chatting and checking on Duncan periodically. Bill wanted to ask Pim if they could go back outside, but with Duncan's sickness, Pim would refuse. Eventually, everyone started winding down, and Pim stood up and announced he was going home. Bill wanted to insist he stay longer, but he had nothing for Pim to do. So reluctantly, he and Filmore walked Pim out, and he waited patiently as he hugged Filmore goodbye and then hugged Pim himself with all the gusto he could muster. It wasn’t a long hug, though Bill wanted it to be. When Pim left, Filmore grabbed his things,
“You sure Duncan is good here?” Filmore asked.
“Yeah, my parents will understand,” Bill responded with a yawn
“Did you ask him?”
“Who?”
“Did you tell Pim you like him?” Bill shot a half-hearted glare at Filmore,
“I was about to, but you made a mess.”
“Talk about timing, huh? I have to go, Bill. Sorry for getting in your mojo.” Filmore waved at Bill before sparing Duncan a look from where he was on the couch, “Text me if you need help or want me to get him.”
With that, Filmore left, and the party was over.
College was nothing like high school; while he had fewer classes, he somehow also had less time, his roommate was a total dolt, and on top of basically babysitting him and doing his work, he had no time to hang out with his friends. They didn’t all go to the same school, but they stayed around the same area, Pim’s school being the farthest with an hour train ride, and Filmore being the closest, as they went to school together.
Bill’s only interaction with Pim was when he was scrolling through his sparse social media and liking all his posts, no matter how inane and pointless.
They’d text all the time as well. With the start of the 2010s came smart devices, and no one relished instant messages more than Pim, who barely had any credit on his phone beforehand. Every day, he’d text about everything, and while Filmore and Duncan asked Pim to text them when they weren’t in class, Bill loved hearing his phone buzz with a random message that read nothing more substantial than just “Saw a butterfly today, so cute :D.”
It stayed like that for a while; they texted often to the point Bill would miss crucial information from his professors. Pim would send pictures and videos of whatever he felt looked cool. Sometimes, he’d show Bill songs he was learning or working on for the Guitar. Though he always seemed shy about it.
They saw each other a handful of times while in college, though at some point, Pim dropped out. He never really told them, Bill happened to find out while shopping in town. Pim was working at a retail store, which didn’t make sense because Pim’s school was on the opposite side of town. Pim said he was planning to tell them, that it was a new thing. Bill couldn’t look past the secrecy and demanded to know what happened.
Pim never explained exactly why he dropped, but he moved back in with his parents and apparently worked a few jobs.
Pim would never say it, but Bill knew that Pim dropped out because his parents said they ‘needed’ him. Pim wouldn’t have dropped college for any other reason. Sure, Pim hated failure and sometimes couldn’t handle the pressure, but he was never a quitter.
‘Until now.’ Bill thought sourly. He couldn’t place why he was hurt by this, maybe because Pim didn’t tell him, maybe because Pim left at all, maybe because now Pim was basically stuck in his hometown, while Bill and the rest were set to move on. The reason that shouted at him loudest was that Pim was a coward, though thinking that was hurt him a lot.
Not even two weeks later, Billy was sitting alone in his dorm. He made the mistake of blowing up at Pim that evening. It started with Pim sending him photos and messages and asking conversation-prompting questions. All normal things he does every day, and that agitated Billy. While they were on call, Pim commented on a cloud, and then Bill snapped. He told Pim to stop pretending like everything was normal, and grew frustrated at Pim’s confusion. He yelled over the phone; he said he was spineless and a lousy friend for keeping secrets. He called Pim a liar and said that he was untrustworthy. Pim asked, obviously surprised and hurt by his words, what Bill’s problem was. He commented on how weird Bill’s been lately, expressing a frustrating amount of concern for someone who was just insulted. Pim’s voice was shaky, and his breathing sounded frantic.
Bill was giving Pim anxiety, and the guilt from it got consumed by his confused anger, and he lashed out again, going for the jugular for no reason other than to make Pim hurt. He called Pim annoying and socially draining. He scoffed at Pim’s weak denial and said how Pim struggled to make friends because he was a loser. He called out all his insecurities. His eyes, weight, hair, anything Pim told him in confidence. Everything Pim said hushed behind the school when they were kids was being thrown back at his face. Bill recalled each rare moment Pim was vulnerable and open about his life beyond what they saw. Every confession about his home life, his mental health, even his feelings of inadequacy, and his fears of failure. Bill used everything Pim had ever told him, and he couldn't help but wonder why. The lack of an answer made his anger stronger.
When Bill's throat started to sting from exertion, he stopped and waited for Pim’s response. The silence was thickening, and his anger was stomped on and snuffed out like a cigarette. He almost asked if Pim was still there, but a moment later, Pim hung up. So there he was, sitting on his bed. He willed his phone to ring and sat despondently when his roommate came in.
It was three years before Bill heard from Pim again. However, he tried many times to reach him before. Fillmore and Duncan apparently promised Pim that they wouldn't try to bring them in contact, but they did share some things about what he was doing. Over time, however, they stopped talking about Pim at all. Bill tried again to reach out. He was never blocked, but every message and call went ignored. Absentmindedly, he wondered if Pim had gotten a new number. When he asked Filmore what Pim was doing, he'd shrug and offer nothing else. When he asked Duncan, he said that Pim works three jobs and doesn't have time to text.
In the next year, Bill stopped asking and drowned in his guilt. Thinking back to that moment. After the fight, It only took the next day for Filmore and Duncan to find out what happened, though unsurprisingly Pim made it out to be his own fault. They came over and comforted Bill, up until Bill revealed the truth. That he insulted and degraded Pim because he was angry. The shame he felt when Filmore stood from the couch with Duncan and stared Bill down was unfathomable and he shrunk under Duncan’s glare.
They didn’t talk to eachother for a while, long enough for Bill to realize the bridge he burned and to want to work on rebuilding it. Getting friendly with Filmore was easy enough, they went to the same school and had a few requirement classes together. All it really took was a few passed notes, some dry texting and a heartfelt apology and they were friends again. Filmore convinced Duncan, and after Bill expressed his regret and his guilt, Duncan agreed to let bygones be bygones.
“It’s not really us you should apologize to Bill, you know that.” Filmore mentioned after their reunion.
“I tried but he won’t respond to me, I even went to his job but I’m pretty sure he hides in the back until I leave.” Filmore didn’t say anything in return and that was the last they brought it up.
Then it was time for them to graduate, walking down the aisle after receiving his diploma he heard the voice of someone he recognized. Looking over in the crowd he saw Pim, he was dressed fairly nice and looked so proud that Bill felt himself perk up, practically waltzing down the side back in his seat, and though he tried he couldn’t help but sneak glances at Pim and nearly missed cheering for Duncan, only doing so because he saw Pim cheering.
Afterwards they met up, it was awkward to say the least but for the most part Pim talked easily to Duncan and Filmore and Bill found himself shyly inching closer to Pim, feeling warmth bloom in his chest and cheeks when they met eyes.
The second Filmore and Duncan walked off Bill was catching Pim’s attention with a heartfelt apology one that he been practicing everyday since the fallout. Though truthfully, Pim would have forgiven him if all he said was “Sorry”, that’s just how he was.
Afterwards, things continued to change. Fillmore worked at some News Station, Duncan worked at a fancy restaurant down the road from Pim’s second job. Bill did freelance work mostly; electrical work, menial repairs, anything he could get payed for really. They still talked and hung out often but, it was harder now to really relate.
Over the years Bill noticed Pim trying to distance himself from his parents. Pim eventually revealed he has been saving up for an apartment near a new job he applied for and left his family with no room to argue or plead. Bill has never been more attracted to Pim after that show of bold agency. He was the first to help him move in his apartment and gave him house warming gifts. He slept over a few times too and in those moments he really wanted to tell Pim how he felt, or even a sly line like “Can I sleep in the bed with you” something flirty, he didn’t know.
It was still hard however, to stay connected and close. With their own lives and such, just wasn’t so feasible to hang out everyday or even call and chat. They were going in different directions and even though Bill hated it, he found himself too busy to make time for Pim or anyone else.
It was Pim’s idea to do those little meetups and revive the UAP group. Something about reconnecting every once in a while and it was cute and fun. It kept their friendship alive and though Bill couldn’t attend very due to work he was invited, along with everyone else, to Pim’s office halloween party. He doesn’t know how it went, since no one wanted to talk about it, but it was testimony to how these little meetups kept their friendship alive enough to invite eachother to places.
The truth is the second Pim worked at his new job ‘Smiling Friends’ his life turned completely around. Pim barely drank anymore, smoked less, he ate healthier when he could. Pim looked and lived healthier and as much as Bill wanted to completely proud there was a big fat yellow problem that came with it. Charlie Dompler.
The first few months Pim worked there it was fine but then he got a “partner” to help
him on his commission work.
Bill didn’t know what hex Charlie put on Pim because to him the second they met it was all Pim would talk about. “Oh Charlie he’s so great, he is so funny! Charlie loves that drink, oh Charlie can't stand that place! Charlie’s uncle got arrested there! Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie!” He said it so much it started to sound wrong, and in Bills memory now he wasn't sure if that even was his name, or if Charlie was a name at all.
Bill might not have minded if it weren't for that dreamy love-sick expression on his face recounting another ‘epic’ take of Charlie Dompler.
He asked his friends about Charlie, since he was at the Halloween party and they told him that Charlie was some yellow critter with a serious attitude problem. Bill asked if Charlie was mean to Pim but they didn't really know, “Probably, he looks like he is a dick to everyone equally to me.” Fillmore said tapping on his phone playing some Blick Block game.
He looked up Charlies Facebook that night through the official Smiling Friends social media pages. He was pleased to learn that Charlie had a girlfriend but he was immediately put off at how often Charlie changed his relationship status with this girl. He was even less happy when he realized that though Pim has followed Charlie, Charlie hasn't followed back. In fact Charlie followed everyone but Pim and Allan, which sure, was nearly half of the Smiling Friends but you'd think since he and Pim work together it would be different. It was no doubt that Pim appreciated Charlie far more than Charlie even considered Pim.
Bill tried gently to bring it up to Pim once, but Pim put a hard stop to that conversation, “Bill, Charlie and I are best friends!” Ouch! Bill thought, “We hang outside of work all the time! Charlie is just shy!” Pim smiled wistfully every time he spoke about Charlie. Bill had no shot at getting Pim to see how little Charlie cared.
Bill only realized that there was no way Pim would ever let go of his obvious man-crush on Charlie when ironically, Charlie died. Pim locker himself in his apartment, and though everyone visited often Pim cried the whole time, chugging water between every sob season, and concerningly dropping significant weight. Well significant to Bill, since no one else seemed to notice. It was a long month of Pim’s continuous despondent teary-eyed face and Bill could only hope the funeral would bring closure and begin his healing.
Then that cockroach came back, maybe it's a little cruel to say considering he just died and came back, but Bill was so upset at Pim’s new level of attachment. It was like a weird trauma bond was built with Charlie because they hung out way more often and annoyingly their relationship seemed to get more balanced and healthier. Bill, who was not cyberstalking Charlie noticed one day that Charlie added Pim back as a friend and noted that now among his posts there was one there with Pim in the background at some movie theater. Sure the post was more of a hate-rant about the film but still.
“They aren't dating Bill.” Filmore said, smoking what Bill hopes is just weed. “Charlie has a girlfriend! You are worried over nothing!” Bill scoffed, stood from his lawn chair exasperated.
“Fil, they go out every week! They went to the movies alone! Together!” Bill pulled up the post on Pims account of their movie tickets, Pim and Charlie’s hands side by side holding up their ticket outside the theater room where their movie was playing. Bill wondered sickly what they did in the dim lights of the theaters.