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The sun is finally making its descent, its way back towards the horizon. Slow, slow. It’s barely noticeable as it has the full 18 hours to make its round, to rise and then fall again. Clouds like ribs, scattered about, cover the sky, offering the much needed rest for a few moments before the scorching rays greet again.
The only signs of time are the empty-again glasses on the table with sparse pools of foam still stuck to the sides. Conversation has started to run in circles, too – music of their own, music that others make, gossip, next meetup. Alanas hadn’t noticed. It’s rare to experience this kind of bliss, be able to sit in one place for hours on end, hands clasped on stomach and eyes glazed over behind sunglasses; without having to zip or unzip a jacket, search for the next conversation topic or worry when you’re supposed to be at home to prepare for another day filled to the brim with rehearsing, recording or performing. He hadn’t even stood up to grab a refill for his beer as Arnas and Matas took care of that, appearing with another round periodically.
Alanas finally snaps out of his indolent state when the conversation had been quiet for too long. He shifts his body ever so slightly, sitting up to feel his legs having gone numb from his lazy state. The glass which he is now cupping is sweaty, covered in condensation with droplets dripping right into his palm. He lifts it up to take sip – demonstratively, as there’s nothing in it. Hasn’t been for long.
“I have to go now,” Matas says, packing up everything he has laid on the table – lighter, lip balm, keys, a pen, some cough drops – back into his tote. Alanas nods. His eyes are following Matas’ moves. Fingers grasping the pack of cigarettes, the plastic still on it crinkling, thumb adjusting the pocket’s fabric, cigarettes tucked in. A breeze caresses Alanas, cooling his sun and alcohol heated cheeks. He could fall back into this state of just floating through this Thursday.
Arnas is packing up too, not having announced his need to depart. It all comes so naturally. He moves at the same pace with Matas, sweeping everything into his pockets and standing up to wave goodbye.
“Be good, man. Don’t get a heatstroke,” Matas says as a goodbye, pulling him in for their usual high five-handshake-hug concoction they had made up ten years ago. Alanas can only smile. There isn’t anything left to say. Arnas gives him a friendly wave before the two of them step off the patio and go their separate ways.
The sun, having found just the right angle between two buildings, is blinding Alanas, forcing him out of the slumber he planned to extend. It’s nice, being like this. He could fix his gaze on any of the countless objects surrounding him: the potted flowers wilting away due to leftover drinks being poured on them, the rotting floorboards of the terrace, a bird resting on the balcony of the house opposite of him. Alanas takes a cigarette as he needs to seem occupied, have something going on for him.
It goes as it always does. The first inhale of relief with the cloud of smoke he exhales standing almost still in the stuffy summer air. Then another. And another. There’s nothing on his mind, in particular, as even the motions of smoking a cigarette are so automatic he almost doesn’t notice it.
He would’ve continued the same way, putting out the cigarette and taking another, maybe getting a refill on his beer between that. A familiar face, or rather a voice, disturbs that, stopping the cigarette from making yet another visit to his lips.
“Hey,” Lukas says. He’s dressed oddly light, in shorts a little too long and a T-shirt a little too big. Alanas takes him in, trying not to make it too obvious that he’s inspecting Lukas from head to toe.
“Hi. Haven’t seen you in a while,” Alanas replies. He tries to continue smoking where he left off, to make it seem natural again.
“I guess I could say the same. You waiting for someone?” Lukas asks, now stepping on to the terrace. He doesn’t dare to sit down yet, waiting for Alanas’ response.
“No. They just left. I’m just here doing whatever,” Alanas says lazily, making a vague gesture to the table with his hand. He’s almost finished with the cigarette, needing something to do after that.
“Mind if we have a beer or two?” Lukas is leaning against the terrace, wiping his hands to his shorts.
“I don’t think so. Yeah. Whatever” Alanas slumps back down into his seat, assuming his previous position.
“I’ll go get us-”
“Just get me whatever you’re having. I’m almost living here at this point.”
Lukas nods and steps inside. Alanas wakes up from his dreamy state slowly. It had all been so familiar before. The same people he had been meeting for all this time, same topics. Same beer even. It had all become so routine, so normal he hadn’t had to make any uncomfortable decisions at any point. He just accepted what was offered and saw where it took him, usually to nowhere in particular, at least to nowhere he had to escape from. He’s fully sat up when Lukas returns, elbows propped on the table and his cigarettes along with his lighter in his reach.
Lukas places down the two glasses and takes a seat across Alanas. He’s different, of course he is. Lukas doesn’t fidget with his legs anymore, he’s not looking around. And Alanas isn’t smiling – well, he is, but it’s not the same smile it was back then. His eyes are looking around, landing anywhere but on Lukas’ face. At least that’s what Lukas can tell from behind two layers of sunglasses.
“Haven’t seen you since the…” Alanas starts, before getting cut off by Lukas.
“The wedding. Yes. It’s been a while.”
Alanas laughs. The polite, reserved kind of a laugh. It had been hard, perhaps the hardest day of his life so far. Trying to conceal his tears, or at least try to make it seem like they were all for Jokubas, for the love that was just getting its stamp of approval instead of the one that had died out and had to be faced in the middle of a busy day of relatives and wearing a suit.
“How have you been?” Lukas asks, trying to ignore how strangely formal it all feels.
“Here and there. Busy mostly. Or mostly is underestimating it. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to step back for even a day. Which is good, I think. Today’s the first day in a while where I…It doesn’t matter.” Alanas is doing that thing again. The thing Lukas thought he’d been able to rehearse out of him. He had hoped Alanas would stop hiding behind generalisations, big words that mean nothing for good.
“That’s not good. I mean you think it is. But when it’s over – it has to be at some point – you will come crashing down.”
“I will deal with it when I get to it.” Alanas is lighting up another cigarette. Lukas reaches out his fingers, placing them on the table and swiftly moving them towards his own pack. He has his own now, had for a while. Alanas smiles genuinely now, just for a brief moment. He had seen that. He shifts in his seat, leaning on his left elbow now. Lukas tries to catch Alanas’ eyes from behind his sunglasses, but fails. The sun is blazing at the back of his head, making him shift in his seat.
“How have you been?” Alanas asks, taking a long drag.
“Good, I think. I’ve been trying to put myself out there. Or not like, out there. But I’ve been trying to do more, see more, be more.”
“And what does that mean? Like, in practice.”
Lukas hesitates for a moment. “I’ve been reading Japanese literature lately. Trying to see how they see life.”
“Like what? Murakami?”
“Yeah.” Lukas looks away. Alanas sees right through him, as he always has. It still feels like a trust fall – offering Alanas a lead which he will pick up on, inquire about, hoping the landing is safe. It’s not as soft anymore. Alanas doesn’t pick up where he left off on, doesn’t help him up, doesn’t offer anything in return. He just sits there, smoking a cigarette like he always has: carelessly, in a matter-of-fact way. Lukas forces himself to look at the cigarette he lit up and take a drag. There is nothing comforting or familiar to fall back on. Alanas looks at him in silence, eyes still not meeting his.
“I always found his writing so peculiar. You can’t take it for fiction in the traditional sense. He’s looking at life through this lens of alienation. Everyone is going through the motions of life but they’re not really there. Like they know they’re being observed. That’s why it sounds so stupid when you try to explain it.” Alanas takes another drag before putting out the cigarette. He tries to resume the position he started out in. Legs sprawled out, hands on his stomach, head leaned back ever so slightly. It doesn’t work. There are thoughts making their way to his head no matter how hard he tries to push them away. Alanas leans up, focusing fully on Lukas now.
“I…” Lukas starts. He tries to find the right words, the ones he has rehearsed repeatedly. The heat doesn’t help, neither does Alanas who is not giving him anything to latch on to. “I will get us a new round,” he finishes, standing up to head back inside. The glasses are not even near to being empty yet. But perhaps the air conditioning and being out of Alanas’ sight for a moment will bring him back to his senses. By the time Alanas has come up with a snarky comment Lukas has already disappeared inside the building. He just stares at the seat Lukas was inhibiting, the crumpled up pack of cigarettes of his still on the table.
There’s so much of Lukas to remember. Everything is turning into a big puddle with flashes of memory, not offering themselves up for more than a millisecond, melting into it. Lukas alone in the kitchen, cooking with his headphones in. His lyrics, first hidden in his room and then being left scattered around the apartment to Alanas’ annoyance. The bits and pieces he picked up from Alanas, like ripping out the silver lining of the cigarette pack – all gone. Maybe there was something beyond the surface. The things Lukas couldn’t, or wouldn’t, show. He used to be so easy to read, dissect, with everything he was feeling or thinking showing on his face. Now Lukas is giving nothing, at least nothing Alanas can pick up on. If he was really doing well, putting himself out there, he wouldn’t have stopped, wouldn’t even have noticed Alanas sitting there. Perhaps it was the epilogue Alanas hadn’t prepared himself for, the final blow before the curtains close for good. He thinks back on the first glimpses of Lukas, and then the last ones, trying to compare it to the man who stood in front of him – at least he tries to, as Lukas is walking back with another two glasses.
“You were saying?” Alanas starts, finishing off the first glass with a generous gulp. He’s more attentive now. He still can’t look Lukas in his eyes, opting to focus on his fingers instead. They’re unsure, first grasping the glass, then fixing his hair before moving back to the glass.
“I was saying?” Lukas asks, moving his fingers back to his first glass and taking a sip.
“I, something. Before you went inside.”
“Oh. I-” Lukas starts again. He still doesn’t have all the right words. “I wonder when you read Murakami.”
“Oh,” Alanas laughs. He was ready for Lukas to bite. He never was able to hide what he’s really thinking, wanting to say. At least when you get to know him to a certain extent. This works too. At least they can pretend to be normal acquaintances having a conversation. “Just little bits here and there. Three books to be exact. Never done a deep dive on him, like you.”
Lukas laughs, tries to. It comes out jagged, weird. Not like it used to. He knows Alanas sees it too, the nervousness and insecurity.
“Well, you did see the alienation. That is new to me, but I guess I can see it too.”
“Well, it’s a way of living now. Or maybe you see what you want to see in what you’re reading. What you’re living through at the moment – you focus on that. No human can ever be objective in what he’s experiencing.”
“That makes sense. We do only have our own lives to compare to. But alienation? Why that? I thought you were content, being busy and all that.”
“I don’t know. I guess it has been a leading theme in everything I’m experiencing. For the past year it has all felt like someone else was pulling the strings, making the moves for me. And in some way it’s comforting. You just do the next logical thing, go where you’re supposed to go. You never have to think for yourself, make a decision – at least not a big one. I can choose between lunch options. That is good enough for me. But I still miss the thrill of putting myself out there, of making a risky move and it paying off. It all seems too rehearsed now. As if what I think or feel doesn’t have any impact on the grander scheme. It does make me feel kind of small, inconsequential. But this is the life I have created for myself. I have to live it.”
“Do you, really?” Lukas is thinking back on all that Alanas just said. There is so much to pick out, so much to underline and circle and show to Alanas. He’s not there anymore, not in the way that Lukas can reach him. He should also comment on the year – of course, the year they haven’t been together, haven’t talked to each other in that way. There’s just not enough words, not enough time.
“I guess not. But it’s so hard to make it my own again. It’s not because I don’t want to make decisions for myself, of course I do. But it’s so comfortable, so easy. I never even think about anything anymore. I just get home and go on my phone and then go to bed. Fighting that routine will be hard. I’m so used to it. Maybe I don’t even want anything else. I just want comfort.”
“But if you wanted comfort why did you...” Lukas’ breath hitches in his throat. It’s the first real thought he’s been able to get out.
“Leave? I don’t know.” Alanas finishes the sentence. He knows Lukas has been dying to get there, dissect it once again. They’d gone over it several times, trying to fix it. It always came to the same old things. What good could going through it once again do?
“There has to be a reason.” Lukas is focused now. He takes a sip of his new beer, still failing to meet Alanas’ eyes. He could afford that. Lukas could just walk away, resume his old ways. It would make a difference, but it wouldn’t carry on to either of their lives.
“I guess it’s the same thing. I wanted control, this illusion of it. I still don’t know why it happened and I’m sorry, I really am. But I know it happened and I can’t do anything to change it. I just always seem to think the grass is greener on the other side. And I know it’s unfair to everyone involved. I just can’t help myself. That will be following me until the day I die, I think.”
Lukas grabs another cigarette from his pack. He needs to gather himself, to have something reasonable to say. He lights it, hands quivering. Alanas doesn’t notice it, or at least he pretends not to. He would light a cigarette of his own but seeing Lukas like this is good enough. Inhaling his smoke is good enough. Anything is good enough in the state he’s in.
“I know you have so much to say that you’re not saying,” Alanas says, following Lukas’ fingers. Cigarette-ashtray-cigarette-ashtray. The heat is relenting, allowing both of them to relax. Still, it’s the reason they’re here in the first place.
“I do. I’m not sure how though. And I hate that you know me so well. Makes me feel watched, too.”
“I don’t know what to do about that. I can’t know any less about you.”
“Have you tried forgetting about me? Moving on? I have.”
“I know we’ve both tried and I know neither of us has succeeded. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“If you say so.” Lukas is fixated on his cigarette. He’s taking feverous sips of his beer, trying to mute the conversation happening. He knew this was bound to happen, the same words with no conclusion. Alanas is just there, watching him. They don’t mirror each other anymore.
“I just don’t know where to move on from here. I’ve tried everything but your shadow still follows me everywhere I go. I mean, when I was walking down this street I saw Matas and he was shooting daggers at me,” Lukas continues, unable to bear the silence that stood between them.
“I’m sorry about that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express how sorry I am and I am truly sorry about that. I told Matas the full story. But he will always be on my side no matter the situation. He means well, that’s all.”
“I can understand that, I guess. He did seem the protective type.”
Alanas laughs. The real kind of laugh with a smile spreading across his face and his shoulders shaking to the rhythm. Some things haven’t changed after all.
“He is. I’ve told him there’s nothing to worry about. I am a person myself after all.” Lukas frowns. He’s back at the scenario he replayed over and over again. Matas telling him to take care of Alanas, to not only try but do his best. He’d tried to follow his words, do his best. Still, it wasn’t good enough.
“I guess. I’ve worried so much, about him I mean. But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You get to say what matters or doesn’t. Isn’t that great?”
“It is. But I still worry about it. You saying that doesn’t really fix anything.”
“Oh. I guess. He shouldn’t matter, to you at least.”
“But to you?”
“Let’s not get into that right now. He doesn’t concern what happened. Between you and I, at least.”
“Oh so now he matters?” Lukas takes another sip of his beer with Alanas to follow. He’s losing his composure, not afraid to tread on topics undiscovered before.
“Like I said. Not for us. Are there any other shadows following you besides Matas?” Alanas is trying his best to lighten the mood. It’s good that Lukas is taking in all the beer. Just like he used to.
“Yeah, you. I know we’ve been over this. I know it doesn’t have any logic to it. Neither the beginning nor the end. I just wish it did. I wish I had somewhere to categorise it. A name to put on it, at least.”
“Ex-boyfriend?” Alanas is smiling again. It’s back to the pleasantries. His face is unchanged – at least that’s what Lukas can get from behind the sunglasses – besides the smile.
“Please don’t say that. You know it’s not right. Or at least I hope you do. I never want to call you that.”
“What else could you call me? What else could I call you?”
A moment of silence. Neither Alanas nor Lukas has an answer for that. They try to counter but there’s no words for that. The hot June sun just continues its relentless fight in trying to make the boys surrender, to seek shadow, seek anything at least. They’ve accepted their fate, just trying to make it more bearable. The sun has accepted it too, moving lower. It has incorporated some yellows and oranges to the mix. They’ve survived the worst of it.
“I don’t have an answer. But it’s not that. I hate that word, more with the prefix. You know it was more than that,” Lukas says at last.
“Yeah, I do. Maybe that’s why I said it. I still know you have it in you.”
“Have what?”
“The fervour. Some passion. Just something. A thing that says you’re not cold.”
“When have I ever been cold?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.”
“It’s so hard when I have to spell it out for you. It comes out raw, unfinished. I know you can read between the lines, otherwise you wouldn’t be so great at that lyrics thing. But I guess sometimes you need it. You’re cold when you know what I’m saying – or what’s anyone saying – is true. You pull back. Maybe it’s because you’re taking it all in, maybe it’s because you’re trying to write a song out of it.”
Lukas stares off into the space again. He’s had this conversation with Alanas before, maybe even in the same wording. He’s just not ready to admit it yet, at least not in this capacity.
“Maybe,” Lukas says, taking another sip.
“Yeah,” Alanas adds, sipping his beer as well, “Maybe you will write a song out of this as well, I don’t know.”
“I won’t”
“Is that so?”
“I think so.”
“Well, you don’t know so. I think you will. At least in some sense. And I won’t ask for credit or anything like that. I know you’re good on your own, your work is great. I’m not disputing your musical talent, I haven’t at any point.”
“You think I’m talented?”
“Obviously. I’ve thought of that since the first time I saw you. But that’s besides the point. I think you’re maybe too talented. It flows too well. You’ll put me into a song like you did before. It’s all a quest for you. I’m not trying to discount you in any of those aspects. Just that… There is life around you. When you try to live it, it will all make sense. You need to step back, try to observe it.”
“I guess. I hate that you’re right. I never wanted to admit it. But how do I know that I’m doing the right thing, that I’m not observing life passing by me?”
“You don’t. That’s the thing. You’ll always have to be alert. Funny that it’s me saying it.”
“Is there a sign? How do I know it?”
“You don’t. You never know in the moment. Think about us. Did you ever know it was right, feel it?”
“I did.”
Alanas sits back in his seat, adjusting his sunglasses. He had never taken Lukas in as he had taken right now. His wrinkly T-shirt, the sunglasses he was wearing right now, The way he always leaned to the left ever so slightly. He didn’t budge, didn’t back down like he used to when he recommended something stupid that made Alanas giggle for the week. He was admitting to it right now. His hands weren’t trembling, leg wasn’t bouncing. He had accepted it.
“Oh, well. What did it feel like?”
“Like everything. I can’t describe it to you, you have your own vision of it.” Lukas is taking another sip.
“But it’s more fun now, this way. When did it start?”
“At the very beginning, I think. The first time I saw you. And it snowballed from there. But at any point in whatever we had, I never thought it wasn’t right. I always knew you were meant for me.”
“And when did that change?”
“It didn’t. Not for me. But I guess it did for you. Which I get. It’s never the right time for anyone.”
Alanas is trying to take it all in. Lukas is saying something he doesn’t want to – doesn’t need to hear. He can’t tell how earnest Lukas is at this point. He can’t tell the beer from Lukas, can’t tell the cigarettes from himself.
“I guess some things are left for time to resolve.”
Alanas tries to wrap up the ends as nicely as he could. With Lukas sitting in front of him it’s not easy. There’s too many things to consider, too many ends for them to tie. A patio can’t be all there is. Lukas needs to get back to him. When they’re both sober and when Alanas is out of whatever this is. He takes a final sip of his beer, the one Lukas brought him, prompting Lukas to do the same.
The silence cuts the summer heat. It’s not the same it was. Thicker, denser, full of even more questions.
“We should both go now,” Alanas finally gets out. Lukas nods.
Lukas packs up his things the same way as Matas did. Careful but hasty at the same time. Everything has its place, but maybe the place is yet to be discovered.
Alanas stands up, finally, feeling every bone of his body hurt. The sun wasn’t there for fun. Alanas feels his cheeks fluster, feels his thighs beg for a shower from all the sweat they’ve endured.
The goodbye goes as it always has. Lukas leans in for a hug with Alanas holding on tighter than he’s supposed to. They’ve practiced this. It’s of second nature. Soon enough they’re heading in separate directions – Alanas to his apartment and Lukas to his own.
Alanas looks back. Lukas is walking, the same walk he’s always walked. Shoulders slumped, step confident. He’s got places to be even when he doesn’t. He looks back, seeing Lukas in the corner of his eye.
Lukas takes in all the cobblestones, everything Alanas just told him. It didn’t solve anything, but it didn’t make it worse either. Just another stepping stone in this spiral to madness.
He looks over his shoulder. Alanas is standing still, fixated on a spot on the wall. He turns around. Could this be it?