"My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?" That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?"
"The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light, they're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."
― Richelle Mead, Bloodlines
(Tirchanus' POV)
I can't sleep.
I am trying to shut my eyes now but I just keep staring at the Php. 2000 cash in the box that rests on the dining table. I just can't believe that Maitho bought almost everything in the store. I can't get mad at him obviously because he loved my paintings so much but in all honesty, I don't know what to do with the money. I could put it in my savings bank but it is just too far from where I am living right now. I don't have a car so I rely more on my feet. I can give it to Amura but trust me; he would spend it on booze. Note to self: an AA meeting/intervention for him. I need to divide the money first thing in the morning. I need to repair my room and the store, buy some food, toiletries and art materials and pay my bills. I am running out of red and yellow paint because they appear a lot of times in my artworks, which is unfortunate.
It has been a long day. I got to meet Maitho and talk to him while doing my best to not explode in front of him and we earned a lot of money. I gotta say he is quite the dream. He is sweet, sociable, kind and artistic in terms of his observance of art and literature. To be frank, I never had a crush on a guy before. If I have a crush on a girl, I wouldn't let that get into my system. I don't know why but I guess I was too busy figuring out what colors complement each other or what brushes make the best strokes for the eyes instead of gluing my eyes on girls or guys back in high school and fantasize about them at night. It was destiny telling me to hold onto my hormones, though it would end up on the bathroom floor or on my shorts almost every night. It feels pleasant to see him interested in my works that it drives me to hear him recite poems or quotes from famous writers like Edgar Allan Poe or Jose Rizal.
Suddenly, my landline phone rings in the middle of the night, which startles me. It is eerie to hear it ring in the middle of a cold, still night where the only sound emitting is the great hum of the refrigerator. I get up, stretching every muscle fiber in me and walk slowly towards the phone ringing loudly in the once silent room. I pick up the phone and speak in a soft yet firm tone, "Hello, good evening." A familiar voice breaks through and says, "Hello, Tirchanus! Good evening to you." Maitho Diaz… A smile forms on my dry lips and my heart beats slightly faster at his soft tone. I feel my cheeks flush to a pinkish red as I hear him chuckle in delight. I close my eyes and chuckle at his light tone that rings onto my ears tenderly; his voice like a sweet melody that mesmerizes me. "Maitho! You're calling me at midnight. How are you?" I ask, surrendering myself to this conversation that I pray in my mind that it will not stop in a short while. I believe that Amura gave him my phone number. I better thank him for it. "I'm doing fine. I am in the middle of a writer's block and it sucks so bad," he says with a hint of tiredness, "I can't seem to finish my work on time for submission." I bring the landline phone close to the bed and continue to listen to him venting out, "It is about Kalimbahin and no matter how much I try to make an essay about it, I seem to find it difficult. This is taking me more than a day to finish and it's killing me slowly." He sighs deeply, his office chair audibly squeaks as he leans back as he sighs again. "Can't you let your supervisor extend the deadline?" I ask as I think of different ways to comfort him while not sounding too desperate. "The deadline is still next week but I just want to finish it now. That way, I won't have a lot to think about in the next few days."
Quite the worker.
"I see. How about you ease the stress by talking to me then?" I suggest as I start to make a move in this relationship I am trying to build. "That's why I called you. Everyone else are either sleeping or working so I guess you are my last resort. I'm sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night just to tend to my needs," he answers. A warm sensation glows inside my chest and I smile at his sincerity and genuine thought. "It's alright. I haven't slept yet because I was watching TV. Go for it," I lie. Honestly, all I want to do right now is to hear him speak because there is something about his tone that brings me into the clouds. It is a trance I can't get out of and it makes me giddy about it. It has been an awfully long time since I made friends with people.
I remember the first time I encountered Amura after moving to Kalimbahin. It was 7 p.m. and I was moving my things into my apartment room. I was struggling on arranging them considering the space. I chose the cheapest in the listing because I was on a tight budget. As soon as I had everything in place, the only problem I had to face was unboxing and arranging them. I got so stressed out that I had to go out of the apartment room and rest on the staircase. I let out a deep, bothered sigh and closed my eyes as I massaged the temples of my head, easing the pressure within me. A lot of things happened: I quit my job because I was unsatisfied of the work ethics, overly demanding bosses and the crazy shit that goes down like altercations that result to lawsuits from a single Hot Pocket that remained in the office fridge, I had a huge quarrel with my parents about what I wanted to do and my wife left me to scam richer, older men with balls hanging lower than swing sets in the park in Kalimbahin. It was an emotional moment for me to leave everything behind to start new because I didn't know where to start. What do I do as soon as I sort everything out?
Out of nowhere, Amura emerged from the bottom of the staircase and took one good look at me. "Hey, dude. What's up?" he introduced himself to me in a cocky manner. Little did he know that I knew that he was just trying to make a good impression on me. "Seems to me that you are pretty preoccupied with a lot of shit, huh?" he said as he puffed onto an unlit cigarette that he pulled out from his faux leather jacket. I squinted at him, obviously not fooled by his inability to at least light up the cigarette, and shook my head slowly. He seemed to be confused initially until he realized how stupid he looked and decided to break character. "Look, I'm doing my best, okay?" he confessed, surrendering from the act he played, "I am trying to give everyone that lasting good impression in this complex." I sighed heavily and replied, "Well you did give me that lasting first impression but I am not sure if it is good on your part. I am pretty sure that even without that unlit cigarette, I know you were acting." Amura pouted like a toddler but saw the situation I was in and asked, "For real, do you need help with that?" I nodded so I got up and continued to place all my things in my apartment room with his help.
It took us over two hours to finally place everything in mainly because we were taking long ass breaks between boxes. As I placed down the last remaining box, I noticed something familiar; something I wished I didn't look furthermore. The box I held wasn't taped down properly so the lid is somehow loose. I rummaged into it and saw a picture of myself when I was just four years old. It was during my birthday party but the thing is that no one came to my party, not even my parents.
I remembered sitting down in front of the cake and waiting until midnight for everyone to arrived but alas, they came so late. The photographer took this photo of me when he was waiting and saw the sadness in my eyes. I softly cried as I took a cookie from the table and nibbled it down. The photographer decided to keep me entertained for the rest of the night by immersing me into his stories of his adventure when he was travelling around the world like the time he got so close to a tiger and befriended it while its wounds were being treated. Although it distracted me from my loneliness, it didn't shake off that heavy feeling in my chest. Even at midnight, no one ever arrived aside from me and the photographer. He decided to accompany me to my room and tucked me to bed. I cried hard when he was about to leave. I mean, it was my birthday, one of the most amazing occasions to look forward to and there I was, on my pajamas, begging the photographer to stay with me because the mumu or the monster might creep up on me. He knew what he had to do so he opened up the curtains of my bedroom window and told me, "No one will ever hurt you when the moon shines bright on you, kiddo." He hugged me and left my bedroom. It left a small hole in me, resulting to my constant need to be loved by basically anyone. I admit to be needy at times but don't we all have the tendency to be like that too?
"Hey, what are you looking at?" Amura spoke, breaking me away from remembering my childhood. He saw the photo I clutched on my hand and asked me about it. I told him everything about it and his face took a turn from happy to sympathetic. "Damn, that sucked. What happened the next day though?" he asked me. I decided not to tell him. It would be best if no one would know what happened to me the next day because it would become a sad day for us both. "Well, whatever it is, I hope you celebrated your birthday well now. I know not a lot of people anticipate that but it's a birthday, another year of life," he said as he stretched his entire body to the heavens, "We tend to think of it as the occasion of getting what we want, blurring out the purpose of a birthday. I didn't celebrate my birthday with a bang but being with my family is all I need to make it complete… oh, and spaghetti too." The truth is, ever since that day, my birthday wasn't the same anymore but I kept it to myself. "Hey, my name is Amura. If you need anything, you can find me not too far from here, just that empty small house with white walls and a small yellow fence," he introduced himself to me. "Tirchanus Cruz but just call me Chan. Thanks for helping me move in. I know you're busy but thanks for your time," I said to him as we shook hands. Let's just say that the rest is history.
"Hello, Chan? Are you there?" the voice of Maitho breaks through me, interrupting me from reminiscing. "Uh… yeah. Sorry about that, Maitho. I was just searching through the TV because I missed something," I lie to him as to not let him feel concerned about me. "Oh, it's good, no worries. I just wanna talk to you because lately, I have been all alone here," he says, confessing to me about his motive for calling me, "I miss my parents so much. I actually told them to visit me here but my dad said that he can't because of his work but they would call me often to check on me. My friends have been busy with their lives, one of them got pregnant and the father of the baby ran away and left the country for another woman and another one of my friends was having problems deciding whether her go – to breakfast cereal should be Koko Krunch or fucking Cocoa Puffs. He's having a crisis," I chuckled on the last part. I wouldn't mind having Koko Krunch for breakfast at least twice a month.
Maitho sighed and asked, "Have you felt lonely in nights like this? In the midst of this beautiful city, have you ever stopped to think that you're standing alone? Because that's what I am feeling right now." I have no words to say. Almost the entirety of my life, I have been lonely even if I was married but that didn't matter now. I had to work for myself to get what I need and want and for the most part, my parent's didn't care, not even my now ex – wife. I take a deep breath and answer him, "Honestly, yes. In my entire life, even up to this mess of a middle age life, I have been finding ways to distract myself from loneliness but it is like a boomerang; you throw it away but it will always come back to you. You're not alone in this ride." Maitho speaks up about his feelings, "I know that I shouldn't feel this way because in one way or another, the people who matter the most to me will find a way to make it up to me but in the process, I find myself waiting almost to nothing. Like, damn, all I want from them is time and a hug." I find myself wanting to do that to him. These little bitches are going to pay for making him feel that way. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he confesses to me, "I need you to know now that ever since we met on that beach, I feel better that I met someone new. I admit that you actually make me feel better in this big city we live in. I just hope I don't mess up or even disappoint you along the way." I feel my heart glowing in my chest. I am not going to sleep tonight when he is still thinking about himself that way, which is kind of a fatherly thing of me to do. "Maitho, don't ever beat yourself up this way. I am always here to talk to you or even listen to you. We have met moments ago but I have to admit that I also feel like I am at home just by your presence," I say to him, "Disappointments and regrets are natural within friends but let's work together, get to know each other and build each other up, Maitho. I await for whatever is in store for the both of us here in Kalimbahin." I can hear Maitho's soft, heartwarming laugh and it is heaven in its purest form.
"If you want, we can talk more about each other to ease your loneliness," I propose to him. Without further hesitation, we talk the whole night off about each other and I get to know what he likes and what he doesn't like. For instance, he loves Madonna and music in general but hates some EDM music with those "drops," which is not something I know off but I do know of Madonna. He also likes seafood and pork but hates it when there's hair on his food. Lastly, he likes to daydream about stories he can form in his head wherein he is the main character and loves to be immersed in it but hates the fact that it is the reason why he can't reach his quota of the week. In turn, I tell him some things about myself.
I love reading stories but hate seeing those generic ass story titles I would see whenever I pass by the bookstore going to the shop like "The Jocky and the Math Geek," "The Bad Bitch's Confessions" or that fucking "The Billionaire's Angel," which I admit I read the latter but it is just so fucking generic like what kind of sick, twisted billionaire blackmails a random girl he bumps into in some random day just to tend to his emotional wounds? I get it; he needs help and healing but goddamn, he fucking needs Jesus too. Anyways, I like daydreaming too but also despise it because I could never get work done. Lastly, I fucking hate spiders with all of my heart and soul, which is something he relates to a spiritual level. To quote him, "I relate to that in a Like a Prayer – slash – Ray of Light spiritual level and I couldn't agree more." When those fuckers will fly, best believe that we will be leaving this world and into Mars we'll go.
We told a few corny jokes like "What is the point of calling people who extinguish fire 'firemen' if they only bring water with them? Aren't they supposed to bring fire with them?" or "Why is the salad dressing 'Caesar Salad Dressing' called like that? Did Brutus call it that after he killed Caesar and one day, made a salad out of flowers, leaves and water out of guilt of killing him?" I swear, the jokes hurt our brains and it has possibly lower down our IQ but the night is full of glee and discovery. Hearing him laugh and talk passionately about something warms my heart and sends me into the clouds where I lie down and be caressed by his love. Yes, I am diving myself onto his love and it is as colorful as Kalimbahin.
"I like talking to you, Maitho," I suddenly blurt out whatever the hell my heart wants to say. Silence fills in the line for a few seconds before he chuckles at my compliments. "Same here with you, Chan. We're like two peas in a pod, snuggling close with each other. You're very dynamic and passionate. Not to mention, you relate much to what I say considering our age gap," he replies. I am swooned by his words and oh, his soft and gentle voice is like a lullaby for me. "I mean, I am 27 and you're 41. It usually concerns me that you may not be riding with what I feel in the moment but I was wrong," he continues. "After all, I couldn't pretend I don't know the shit you're dealing with now because I deal with them too," I respond to his remarks about me.
"I think we need to rest now. It has been so long since we started our call. Imma have my beauty sleep now, Chan," he says. Wish you didn't have to end it like that though. "Okay, Maitho. Goodnight and take care," I say my best wishes to him but secretly, those three letter words want to reach its way to my mouth but I hold them it. "Goodnight and go, Chan. Sweet dreams," Maitho bids farewell before ending the call. I am now left with this soft feeling in my chest like a cotton candy. I chuckle, feeling giddy about our call. I have no words to explain just how magical tonight is. The feeling of actually talking to someone whom you admire needs no explanation of words but just how your heart glows in colors of the spectrum. I say my little prayer to God before I lie in bed and fall asleep.
Dear God, please protect him. Please know that I love him.