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The brownstones of New York City were lined with a relentless, blinding holiday cheer. Through the frosted windows of the houses down his street, vibrant green and red rays of festive light sliced through the heavy snowfall, illuminating the dark brown bricks settled below.
Except for his window.
His apartment remained a completely hollow, gray-white square. What a disgrace. Inside, a strawberry matcha latte sat entirely untouched on the marble counter, the layers separating into an ugly, curdled mess as it turned ice-cold. The television screen cast a dead, gray static over the empty room. He was empty.
It had been months since Fourth had abruptly packed his bags, escaped Thailand, and fled to New York. He had desperately needed to find out who he actually was outside the suffocating, agonizing shadow of his past. But the escape hadn’t freed him.
For months, he had been living in this massive city like a ghost—a body moving through the crowded streets completely devoid of its soul, an empty shell going through the motions of life. Nobody back home knew where he was. His parents, his friends, everyone. He was entirely unaccounted for, a missing piece of a life he couldn’t face. Did he really want this to happen?
Until the phone on the counter vibrated.
The sharp, aggressive buzz fractured the gray, white walls of the room. When Fourth leaned over and saw the name illuminating the dark, two violent, competing emotions surged through his chest like a physical assault. He was completely paralyzed with terror, yet simultaneously, a desperate, feral, pathetic urge to answer clawed at his throat.
He couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed the opportunity, his trembling thumb sliding across the glass.
He answered.
The silence on the line was heavy, pregnant with months of suffocating, unsaid words, before Gemini’s voice broke through—rough, breathless, and cracking with an agonizing familiarity that made Fourth’s lungs lock up.
Immediately, the old, tangled webs of Fourth’s deepest complexities dragged them under. They fought. They cried. The distance between New York and Bangkok dissolved into raw, bleeding emotion over the speaker. Gemini sounded frantic, his voice dropping into that deep, devastating registry as he begged, weeping openly:
"I still love you, Fourth. God, please... I never stopped."
A bitter, hysterical laugh caught in Fourth’s throat, sparking with a sudden, sharp, venomous electricity.
"You love me?" Fourth choked out, the words tasting like copper and salt. "Then why didn't you show that to me when I was standing right in front of you? You were the golden boy, Gemini. Loved by everyone, shining so bright it was blinding. But standing next to your light, I felt like I was locked in a suffocating cage. I was drowning while everyone cheered for you. I was fading into nothing!"
On the other end of the line, Gemini choked on a sob, his voice fracturing into desperate, unformed words, begging him to stop. But the realization had already hit Fourth like a physical blow to the stomach. He was dragging down the person he loved because he didn't know how to heal his own broken, jagged pieces.
This slow, agonizing torture couldn't go on.
"Merry Christmas, please don't call," Fourth whispered, the words tearing from his throat like a final, desperate prayer.
He didn't wait for Gemini to beg. He pressed the red button.
The silence that rushed into the apartment wasn't just quiet—it was heavy, thick, and freezing, slamming into his chest like a wall of solid ice. His knees completely gave out. He dropped heavily to the cold hardwood floor, the impact bruising his skin, but he couldn't feel it. He dropped the phone beside him and buried his face in his hands.
On the floor, the screen illuminated one last time with a final chat notification from Gemini.
Please, don't hang up. Just tell me where you are. Don't leave me in the dark. i love you, my one, i don't wanna get away from you please.
Fourth could taste the agonizing message from the man he loved with all of his heart. He was breaking. But his resolve won against his heart.
With a hand that shook so violently he could barely press the digital keys, suppressing a wave of deep, suffocating sorrow, Fourth typed his final words into the chat:
"I need to go. I love you, my love. but we both know this is never going to work. i don't want to bring you down with me. we won't never work. We're like oil and water, desperately trying to be one, but we will never be one. please let me go. It's the best for both of us."
He didn't wait for a reply. He opened the profile, his vision blurred by hot tears, and hit Block. He cut the wire. He chose to disappear completely into the shadows, never to contact him again.
Two Years Later
The heat in the Bangkok house clicked on, but Gemini barely noticed. Two years had passed, but the holiday season always brought back that exact same phantom, visceral ache in his chest.
Suddenly, a soft knock on the front door broke the heavy silence. When Gemini opened it, the porch was empty, save for a crisp, white envelope resting on the mat. No return address. No name. Nothing that was familiar to him.
Sitting back down on the edge of his bed, Gemini felt his emotions—painstakingly controlled and locked away over the last twenty-four months—threaten to fracture completely. A wave of profound, terrifying relief and aching hope washed over him. He had no logical reason to know who sent it, but his heart, stubborn and completely broken, secretly whispered a single name. Fourth.
With steady, breathing-induced caution, Gemini slowly broke the seal and pulled out the letter.
Gemini,
How are you? It’s been two years since I ran away into the dark. I wonder if the lights are still as bright around you as they used to be. Did you achieve all those beautiful, impossible dreams we used to whisper about in the quiet of your room? Did you reach them without me pulling at your coat sleeves, dragging you into my storm?
I want to tell you that I'm learning how to breathe without a cage. But my hands are still cold, Gemini. And I still look at the sky and wonder if you're looking at the same stars, or if you've completely forgotten the boy who left you behind.
Don't look for me. This is the last time you'll ever hear from me. Goodbye, my golden boy.
Gemini cried until he couldn't breathe. Sweet Gemini, drowned in the sadness he couldn't control. He had the letter in his hands, his hold soft, but his aura was a complete contradiction to what he felt.
The universe had done its part. It had brought them together, let them burn, and now, it was permanently pulling them apart. They were never going to meet again in this lifetime. The threads were cut, the distances too vast, the timing completely ruined. They were destined to walk the rest of the earth as parallel lines—always looking at the same sky, but destined never to touch again.
Gemini's Soliloquy
"You really left me. You actually did it. You crossed an entire ocean just to get away from my skin, and now you send me a piece of paper telling me to be happy? How am I supposed to breathe in a world where your handwriting is the only part of you left?" He trembled.
"Look at this room, Fourth. Look at these stupid trophies on the wall. They call me the golden boy, but the gold feels like ice. I built the future we talked about, I did everything we planned, but I did it on top of your grave. I was too bright for you? You felt like you were in a cage? God, if you had just told me, I would have smashed the bulbs. I would have lived in the absolute dark with you just to keep your hand in mine.
"But you made the choice for both of us. You decided I was better off without you. You're so stupidly wrong. I am completely hollow. I’m going to spend every single Christmas Eve sitting on this floor, staring at a door that’s never going to open, rewriting your name in my head until I go blind. You asked if I achieved my dreams? No. My biggest dream was just you staying."
He held the letter to his chest, so endearing, but broken. He cried and cried until he couldn't anymore.
Fourth's Soliloquy
In New York, Fourth was still there, but broken.
"I wonder if you hate me today. You have every right to. I was a storm, Gemini, and you were a lighthouse trying to save a ship that wanted to sink. I had to break the glass. If I stayed, my darkness would have eventually swallowed up all your beautiful, blinding light, and I couldn't live with myself if I ruined the only good thing I ever touched.
"My hands are so cold out here. New York doesn't care that I'm bleeding inside. I look at the people walking past me, smiling under the Christmas lights, and all I see is the way you used to look at me before I broke us. I wrote you that letter because my heart was turning to stone and I just needed to know you were still breathing. I needed to know the world didn't stop because I left.
"Don't look for me, Gemini. Please, stay the golden boy. Shine so bright that I can see it from across the Atlantic ocean. I chose this cage of solitude, and I’ll carry the memory of your voice to my grave. We are under the same stars, but we are parallel lines now. I loved you enough to let you go. I loved you enough to never let you see me again."
He spoke while he was still outside his apartment. The snow was still showing, going down on the soil he was standing on, performing its melancholic but empty and peaceful resolve.