alonetogether47

[alonetogether47]

The Monster

Music: Falling Behind by Laufey

My hand curled itself into a fist, lingering before the wooden door. I took a deep breath. I’m just here to watch a movie with my friends, I told myself. Don’t worry about El and Jamie.

I knocked once, then twice, then three times. I heard giggling on the other side of the door. El and Jamie’s laughter blended together in a grotesque harmony. A flash of hatred pierced my mind, but I quickly snuffed it out. I shouldn’t be thinking these things about my best friends.

El and Jamie were not always a bonded pair. Once, they were my best friends, and we were as equal as the Three Musketeers. We’d been together ever since middle school, and we were ecstatic to learn that we’d all been accepted into the same college. But El and Jamie were in the same building together, while I was across the street. Looking back, I think the placement of our residences also contributed to the death of our friendship. The twenty-foot street separating me and them was apparently enough to ruin half a decade’s worth of time together.

Jamie and El opened the door with a burst. Jamie’s blonde hair was messy, while El peeked out from his shoulder, clinging to his arm.

“You’re late,” El frowned.

“Come in, come in!” Jamie said, giving me a mock-bow.

“You didn’t miss me too much, did you?” I grinned, taking a seat on Jamie’s bed as he put on the movie. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I could survive this. I sat against the wall next to El, while Jamie took his place next to El. The movie began to play, blaring out from Jamie’s cheap store-bought speaker.

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jamie lean on El. I focused on the movie. But, just like a moth was inexplicably drawn to the flame—even if it meant its death—my eyes drifted back to them. When my gaze flickered to my right, I saw not El and Jamie, but a third, more sinister monster that was in love with itself. This happened every time, and I couldn’t stand it. Whenever I opened my mouth, it glanced away, looking at its maw in the mirror. It preened its body with reverence, as I remained unnoticed. It laughed louder at its own jokes than mine. It wasn’t even watching the movie anymore!

Again, that desperate feeling of alienation struck me. The movie couldn’t drown out the rustles and murmurs of a love that didn’t belong to me. I wanted to love the monster as I loved my friends, but its narcissism disgusted me. It was like the warm home I was so used to coming back to had barred its doors to me, and I was stuck waiting outside, using the crackle of the fireplace and the laughter of the people to imagine myself sharing their revelry.

“Oh, shit,” I said suddenly. The monster turned to peer at me with all four of its eyes.

“I just realized I have a ton of work to do,” I said. “Gotta go take care of that right now.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” I said, managing a smile. “Just have to lock in tonight.”

“Aww, we’re going to miss you. We’ll save the movie for later,” El pouted. But even with all their flatteries, they didn’t ask me to stay. 

“Of course,” I muttered. “I’ll see you guys later.”

I shut Jamie’s door quietly behind me and left, running away from the monster and my best friends, fleeing to my building across the street. 

Image credit by eastcoastloner

[alonetogether47]

The Height of Love

Music: ok on your own by mxmtoon

It was a twenty minute walk—or a 10 minute skip—to the bridge, and I was in the mood to skip. I had just got off my classes, and now the sun clung to the horizon, casting fading rays onto the city. A faint chill permeated the evening air, but I didn’t mind in the slightest; after all, I was going to see Mai. I had bought a bouquet of purple flowers on the way, their stems stems swaying in the air wind as I made my way through town. 

Mai was waiting for me at the bridge. She didn’t notice me at first, her long black hair turned to face the koi that pranced in the riverbed. We’d only been together for a couple months, but we had known each other for years. We’d been inseparable ever since we met each other in our third year of high school, and we’d only grown closer since. Even though I initiated our friendship, it was her that asked me out. Ever since then, we've been together nearly every single day, and I was fine with that. More than fine. There was, after all, something absurdly intoxicating about being chosen. I felt like a stuffed animal at a toy shop, as a child with bright eyes looked me up and down, then nodded, satisfied, saying, “I want this one”.

“I brought you flowers,” I said, offering my bouquet. When she turned to face me, however, she wasn’t smiling like normal.

“Oh, thanks,” Mai said, taking the flowers gently.

I took her hand, gazing at the dancing koi as I waited for her to speak up. When she didn’t, I took it upon myself to initiate.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You know I know you better than that.”

Mai’s gaze moved from the river to the twilight sky, tinged with streaks of indigo and pink. 

“I love you, you know that?”

“I do.”

“But I love you too much.” Mai said, turning to look at me. She was staring at me, but her eyes stretched past my form, all the way to the dying sun behind us.

“I don’t know who I am without you,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I love you more than I love myself.  Even now, I’m holding myself back from devouring you, and that scares me.”

“I wouldn’t mind being devoured, if it was you.”

“Don’t you understand? Right now, we’re two halves of a whole, not two wholes of a pair.”

“You’re talking metaphorically again,” I smirked. Mai sighed, shaking her head.

“Then let me be frank. You don’t have any other friends, do you?” she asked. I blinked.

“Don’t worry, I’m the same. We only have each other, the two of us,” she continued, plucking a single flower from the bouquet. She let it drift lazily down into the river, where it was quickly swept away by the current.

“What we have is a good thing. Isn’t codependency the height of love?” I insisted. Mai tilted her head again, lost in thought.

“Yes, but not that of a person,” she finally replied, squeezing the bouquet of flowers, but not my hand. “A person’s potential is not measured by love alone. And us...we're holding each other back.”

“So that’s it, then?” I asked, at a loss for words. “You just want to be done, just like that?” 

Mai paused again.

“Yes. I love you, so I can’t be with you,” she said finally. “We’ll meet again, once we’ve learned how to fill in our other halves.”

This time, I understood the weight behind her metaphors. She took me in her arms, and I sank into her shoulder. I held her tightly because she was all I had known, and because I didn’t want to be alone.

Image Credit by nobrakes1875

[alonetogether47]

Like Lovers Would

Music: Softly by Clairo

Cedar yawned, squinting at her iPad. She played with an eyeliner pen in her other hand, struggling to mimic the movements of the lady in the video. How did she get the wings at that angle…?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tentative knock on her door. The smell of ash and rain greeted her, and Cedar grinned to herself.

“Come in!” she called. A tuft of midnight blue hair poked out of the doorframe, and Sky came into view in the corner of her eye.

“Did you buy the thing?” she asked, turning her gaze from her iPad to Sky.

“Yup. Got it right here,” Sky said, waving a brown grocery bag. “I’m…sort of confused, though.”

“About what?”

“I thought you never did makeup before.”

“I’m learning right now,” Cedar smirked, tapping the screen of her iPad “You told me you wanted to see how you looked in it, right?”

“You put too much effort into these kinds of things,” Sky said, his cheeks turning pink.

“Probably,” Cedar admitted, patting the chair beside her. “Come here. Let me do your makeup.”

“What gender should I be right now?” Sky asked, bouncing his leg on the wooden floor. He seemed so nervous all of a sudden. 

“Up to you,” Cedar sighed, taking the makeup palettes and brushes Sky bought out of the packaging. “You have until I unwrap these to choose.”

Sky closed his eyes, and his dark blue hair—which normally curled just behind his ears—grew longer and straighter, cascading down his shoulders. The smell of ash and rain still remained, however.  It was something she’d always been able to do, but she had historically stuck with a male form until just recently. Sky had even taken Cedar’s form at once, but Cedar forbade her from using it again. She disliked the idea of seeing her own face on someone else, especially with the blue hair. 

“Girl it is,” Cedar noted, opening the box of concealer and testing it on her hand. “You know guys can wear makeup too, right?”

“I know,” Sky said defensively. “I just…think this is right. At least for the first time.”

“Okay,” Cedar smiled. “Just want you to be comfortable. Could you part your hair for me?”

Sky did as she was told, and Cedar clipped it to the side. She started small, using concealer to dab at the spots around Sky's face, just like the videos instructed. So far, so good. Next, Cedar brought out an orange eyeshadow, which she figured would contrast nicely with Sky’s blue hair.

“Hold still, will you?” Cedar frowned, dabbing the brush next to Sky’s fluttering eyelid.

“Sorry!” Sky squirmed. “It tickles.”

Finally, Cedar brought out the eyeliner brush—her archnemesis. She had watched countless tutorials about it, but she still couldn’t get it down perfectly. 

“I’m trusting you so hard right now,” Sky murmured. She already looked pretty without makeup, and even more so with the eyeshadow, but Cedar was determined to get this right. 

“Don’t give me more pressure,” Cedar breathed, before diving in with the brush. Sky flinched as Cedar got close with the pen, but gradually relaxed the longer Cedar worked. After several tries—and more than a few q-tips’ worth of restarting—Cedar finally pulled away. 

Cedar looked her up and down, inspecting her handiwork.

“How do I look?” Sky asked, tilting her head. Cedar blinked.

“Pretty,” Cedar said, turning away so Sky couldn’t see her flush. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty,” Sky breathed, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Thank you, Cedar.”

“It was my pleasure,” Cedar grinned. “Now, what do you think about going out for dinner?”

“Like this?!” Sky yelped. 

“Why not?” Cedar shrugged. Sky tilted her head, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Then a small smile curled around her mouth, and Cedar saw a hint of nervous excitement glitter in her eyes.

“Well, I am in the mood for Chinese…”

Image credit to @ligton1225