Chapter Text
“Do you think we will ever meet again in the future, by chance?”
Barely able to force his own turbulent emotions down, he kept his voice steady with a smile that had now become more of a habit than anything real, and said, “I could say ‘yes’, but it would be in poor taste here. A chance of that nature won’t come. I don’t intend to see you after this, and I won’t be misleading you in this final hour.
I won’t trouble you any further, A–”
With several emotions passing through his face, the 18-year-old finally said, “Hope you have a nice life, Baxter”
The strained tenor voice left a ripple in his heart that he failed to seal before shutting the front door, eclipsing the man outside.
“Baxter”
He slid roughly down the door, with his hands holding his head.
Was that the right choice?
“Baxter”
The voice began echoing against the walls of the condo and kept getting louder and louder.
“BAXTER!”
He couldn’t stand it anymore and slammed his palms against his ears, eyes shut tight but tears streaming down his face as he screamed
“STOP IT!”
He woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat. While yawning and still feeling groggy, he tried his best to make out the time on his bedside digital clock.
It read “6:00 am”.
He could have slept in more, especially since his alarm was set for 7 am. All he had to do for the day was check in at his office, send the report on the previous wedding he had helped plan to his Team Lead after cross-checking it and get himself ready and hyped to start with the new clients he had spoken with briefly over a call yesterday.
It was strange. It was the third time since this past week he had woken up to the same dream or nightmare. Once was fine, twice a coincidence, but thrice? It felt almost like a premonition or an omen, but he brushed it off, not wanting to entertain such a preposterous thing.
Should he even be calling it a dream or a nightmare when it was truly a memory? A memory from 5 years ago he had sworn to put a lid on and tried so hard to erase with everything he’s got, but to no avail.
After attempts to forget him and his existence or his importance to Baxter for the first couple of years, part of him from time to time began to wish he could go back... to that day and just alter it all… so that he could have still continued to be part of his life.
It was a mistake; he would think in such instances - with his eyebrows knit together, frowning. However, he also knew he didn’t have any right to be by his side after the way he left back then. He had himself told him that he wouldn’t see him again in the future - like he meant nothing to him -
when in reality… perhaps more than Baxter ever wanted to admit… he meant more to him than words could ever…
He would then shake his head to rid himself of such thoughts, resetting back to his beliefs, “his comfort”, that kept him safe, and from any hurt he wouldn’t himself have control over again.
He has his “real” friends and loved ones. He would tell himself. I still think he doesn’t need someone like me in his life. He would repeat it over and over again like a mantra until it set in, at least temporarily.
This morning was no different, though he tried to shake it all off before those thoughts even had time to seep in. He slapped his cheeks to rid off both the thoughts and his sleepiness and stood up from his bed to get ready for the day.