kindagus

[kindagus]

“ i agree entirely. ”

“I knew I could count on you! Though I’d much rather see the firework than cry. You know, I can cry everyday, but fireworks are special.”

[kindagus]

“ it definitely doesn’t. you just haven’t had a good one. ”

“You are just overreacting. Mango taste like shit. End of story.” This was amusing him.

[kindagus]

“ so i’ve been told. doesn’t stop me much, though. ”

it’s such an honest reply that hennessey doesn’t know what to say for a moment. but the ghost of a smile on her lips expresses what words can’t. “— you make some poor life decisions. you know that, right?”

[kindagus]

“ this whole conversation is throwing me off. it’s ... it’s mango. how can it be bad ? ”

“But you know I’m right though. It tastes bad, man.”

[kindagus]

“ i’m a concert junkie and juice connoisseur, so that’s been my scene. what about you ? ”

“we shall.” mercer gladly hooked her arm through his, falling into step beside him. “so what other festival attractions have you knocked off so far?”

[kindagus]

“ forgive me for caring ? i, uh ... was i not supposed to care ? you’re my friend, you know. ”

“jesus — have people never seen bruises before?”

[kindagus]

“ i keep an emergency pack of kleenex, so i think we’ll be alright. i’ll try my hardest to keep the arthur waterworks from flowing, though. ”

“Alright, but I have to warn you that I need to see the fireworks today or I will cry.”

[kindagus]

“ let’s see what we stumble upon, y’know ? i think it’s more fun that way. ”

“Who would have thought this town is so amazing, huh? Providence wasn’t even on my radar until I looked for colleges.” Arthur hadn’t been sure he was going to look it there when he moved because he was scared, but he’s grown to love the town. “Of course! Anything you have in mind or do you want to walk around and see what catches our eyes?”

[kindagus]

“ that was a rude and unnecessary comment. ”

“It tastes like shit?”

[kindagus]

text: Open

Ian: That sounded just like you were a drug dealer

Ian: Does everybody remember to bring painkillers to the festival except for me?

gus : apparently so, bud. apparently so.

[kindagus]

their hands are touching again, and it’s almost nothing ---- it could be nothing ---- but, for gus, it’s hope. “ it does look like the point of a star, huh ? ” gus grins, wrapping his free hand around finley’s hand underneath his own and spilling the shards into his best friend’s palm hesitantly. always hesitant now. “ there’s a piece or two from everywhere we’ve ever been, ” gus admits, and it feels like he’s swallowing a rock trying to get the rest of the words to come out. “ they’re yours, ” he smiles. “ i want you to have them. make them into art. you’re good at that, you know ? making the jagged edges smooth again. ”

finley stands and brightness fills his vision; white and temporary. maybe that’s what life is. a blind spot —- outside forces putting pressure on a giant bruise. finley’s palms felt sore. gus presented him with a small itinerary of treasures —- a bottle cap, some ceramic with lemonade pink flecks of paint, cathedral glass —- and finley inspects his magpie’s nest, his hand sliding under gus’s to hold it steady. he picks up the bottle cap with his other hand, twisting it under the sunlight, a fond smile playing with the edges of his mouth. “ you could make this one into a badge, ” he says, careful with his words. always careful now. “ — did you pick it up at benefit ? ”

[kindagus]

gus smiles weakly, shaking his head. “ i, uh ---- no. i haven’t used the ‘ l ’ word, not yet. he knows i like him, though. at least, i think he does. i hope he does. god, what if he doesn’t ? ” gus pauses, looking over the array of syrup flavors on the side of the snow cone shack. “ cherry banana, please, ” and then he turns to wes, “ what do you want ? it’s on me. you’re alleviating some of my emotional rambles; it’s the least i can do. ”

wesley’s eyebrows rose in surprise, the male beside him surprising him more and more every minute. “really?” he said, half in disbelief and half in some sort of pride. he wondered if finley felt the same, all of a sudden. “i mean, well — love is different for everyone. it might be different for you than it is for me, but … that’s wonderful, gus. does he know? have you told him?”

[kindagus]

gus nods his head, smiles because it all makes s e n s e. he catches himself smiling widely, big enough to make his cheeks ache, and it takes him a minute to realize he hasn’t said anything to wes. “ it’s just that, uh ---- i like hearing about love and people in love, ” he begins, beginning to fiddle with his hands as he slides up a bit in line. “ and the way you described it, uh ----, ” he pauses, “ that’s how i feel, too. about fin. ”

wesley wasn’t expecting a question like that to come from gus, but nevertheless, he ran a hand through his hair and thought before he spoke. “uh, i mean — it was pretty easy. max made it easy, you know? it was like …. i felt really content. with him and our relationship and where we were going. if that makes any sense. your heart just feels full.” he shrugged, turning to gus. “why do you ask?”

[kindagus]

gus picked himself up slowly, his taxi yellow converse fading into a honey mustard shade the more he kicked his feet around in the festival grounds. no sudden movements, no sudden movements, no sudden movements. but, how could he not move quickly when he knows that voice, always knows that voice ? he faces finley with a smile on his face, shoves a palm in his pocket, and produces it within a few seconds ---- an open hand with various piececs of ceramics, glass, and other materials he’d found. busted bottles, shattered plates... the list carried itself. “ i think broken things are often the most beautiful, you know ? need the most love of all. ”

four girls stood on the pier playing truth or dare; wrong answer and one of them was in the water. finley watched as a sunflower yellow cardigan went overboard, hitting the water, the sea foam welcoming the figure in the distance like an old friend. he bent down to pick up a second piece of pottery, turning the ceramic over in his hand. “ so, what do you think ? ” finley asked, the sun kissing the skin on the body before him. “ reckon i can collect enough pieces to make a mosaic or somethin’ ? —— or should broken things be left alone ? ”

[kindagus]

text: Open

Ian:Help

Ian: I think I've been enjoying the festival a little too much

Ian: I have a killer headache

gus : i'm no drug dealer...

gus : ...but i could hook you up with a round of advil

[kindagus]

“ please, ” gus scoffs, his head shaking teasingly. “ try me. ”

Seth was excited and ecstatic. He was in charge of a Pepsi/Coke challenge booth for the kids. It was the best way he could imagine spending his time: out in the beautiful sunny weather, spending time with neighborhood children. He was also excited for the band that was gonna play today, that he would check out later. “Step right up!” he called out, pretending to put on the voice of a circus announcer. “Can you taste the difference between Pepsi and Cola?” 

[kindagus]

“ hennessey... what happened ? ”

“ — this just in, i don’t have a career in boxing. i’m not going to the festival. unless you want me to scare away all the children.”