Montag opened his eyes and swore loudly. May 22. He hated the date, hated the memories associated with it. He took his phone and saw a text from his former foster mother wishing him peace and giving her condolences. She should know by now that he wasn't going to reply to her message nor he was going to reply to the one she'll surely send the next day regarding his birthday.
He took a shower and brushed his teeth. He hated when the horrible anniversary coincided with the weekend because he couldn't distract himself with work until the evening when he had a bartending shift. He fixed himself a bowl of cereal and decided on what to do to occupy his mind. Memories from the past couple of days bloomed in his brain. The band was back together and he shared a surprisingly hot kiss with Alex Castellanos.
He wasn't sure how to feel about it. He knew he was horny and the dude was eye candy, but after visiting his apartment and seeing him so obviously eager to touch him he felt apprehensive. He didn't want anyone to fall for him, feelings were a complicated issue and based on the clear lack of experience Alex had, it was easier for him to confuse attraction with love. He wasn't able to be responsible for someone else's emotional wellbeing.
After finishing his cereal, he took his Lexapro and made a mental note of filling his prescription on Monday before running out of pills. He turned on his computer, plugged in his keyboard and his microphone and chose to record some verses to distract himself.
The first time he sang was at an audition for a children's choir when he was 8, his mother took him there because she was obsessed with having an artistically inclined kid. He was her little project, a way for her to wipe the slate clean, a proxy for her broken dreams and he auditioned because he loved his mother and wanted to make her happy. They were as thick as thieves, them against the world, she worked two full time jobs and signed him up in whatever activity was available to reduce childcare costs. He attended more extracurriculars than any other kid he knew and he did it without complaining because he knew it satisfied his mother.
'Kids are fucking idiots'
He should've wasted those hours making himself emotionally stronger instead of trying to please a woman who was never going to be fulfilled. He wished he knew back then how pointless their efforts to get his father's attention were. The man could care less about his existence. Montag could've turned out a virtuoso and his dad wouldn't have cared. But hindsight was 20/20 and he knew now how important it was to be emotionally distant. If you didn't open yourself to others, they couldn't get deep enough to hurt you.
He cringed inwardly. Again, with melancholic thoughts. He was undeniably his mother's son. Images of her body dangling from the ceiling light flashed through his mind. He recalled vividly his desperate screams when he found her, his hands cold and shaking and the hot tears rolling down his face while he called 911 and waited for the EMS to arrive.
His mood ruined, he grabbed a cigarette from his nightstand and left his apartment to smoke on the front porch of the building. Another year wishing to be dead.
The anniversary of his mother's death came and went as any other day and he woke up the next morning ready to face his second most hated date of the year: his birthday. Once again, he checked his phone and found a message from his foster mom. The woman was relentless, she should occupy her time doing something for herself instead of trying to maintain relationships with kids who were forced to stay with her.
He took a shower, fried a couple of eggs and brewed some coffee. He looked at his Lexapro, he didn't know why he took that if he still wished to be dead on a daily basis. They clearly weren't working but he didn't care enough to get a different one. Too much of a hassle with all the bureaucratic crap his insurance made him go through. His phone vibrated, startling him.
'Can a man get lost in his thoughts?'
He looked at the screen, it was Julian. He was regretting resuming their relationship. He knew that if he ignored the call, he'd have the man standing at his door in less than an hour. With a frustrated sigh he answered.
"I would like to rot on my bed on my birthday, thank you"
"Hello to you too and happy birthday" Julian's cheerful voice was annoying "Derek's little brother has a soccer match and he invited us to cheer on him and scare the other team with our looks"
"I'd rather gouge my eyes out and feed them to snakes"
"Don't be crass. I was just suggesting. I promised Derek that Andrea and I will go so I was hoping you could join us but I was right in not getting my hopes too high"
"You shouldn't even have mentioned it"
"I know. However, the night is young and I don't have anything scheduled for tomorrow so maybe you could join us for drinks?"
"No, I'm not third wheeling on my birthday. Get a grip"
"You wouldn't be third wheeling; Alex is going to be there"
"Is that supposed to convince me? Also, does he know you're making plans on his behalf? He doesn't look like someone who willingly goes to a bar"
"Andrea is trying to broaden his experiences before he goes to med school. She wants him to fit in"
Montag remembered what Alex told him about his family treating him like a child. No one took the time to ask him if he wanted to go out. From what he gathered about him; Alex seemed like the homey type, someone who enjoyed watching a movie and ordering take out. He got offended but immediately decided not to involve himself with that. Alex didn't need a savior.
"No, I'm not going. But do let me know if he chews Andrea's head off, it sounds amusing"
"You're a dick" Julian laughed and hung up.
The coffee finished brewing while he talked on the phone, he grabbed his biggest cup and filled it to the brim. His gastric lining suffered with his morning routine. He swallowed his pill with coffee and thought about the long day ahead. He needed to get out of his apartment or his nihilism would kill him. He decided on a movie and a walk in the park. Alone but surrounded by people.
His phone buzzed once again; this time it was a text. He picked it up and looked at the screen. The message was from an unknown number, the profile picture a black cat with an annoyed expression. A cat he'd seen before.
(unknown number): Hello, this is Alex. I heard from Andrea that today was your birthday. Happy birthday C:
He quickly saved his contact and replied.
(Montag): Thank you. Julian mentioned something about going with them to a bar? Didn't seem like something you would do.
(Alex): (◔_◔) you're right. I don't do that. I had to reject the invitation.
(Alex): Well, have a good day, hope you get many gifts.
(Montag): I don't celebrate my birthday.
As soon as he sent that message his phone rang. He considered ignoring the call but Alex probably had good intentions in mind. He answered and put him on speaker.
"What do you mean you don't celebrate your birthday?"
"We could've continued this conversation on text"
"I wanted to hear your voice" Montag knew that he was probably blushing. "No, wait, is not what you think, I meant that I wanted to hear the inflection in your voice so that I could identify if you were sad. Emotions are hard to read on text"
"I have no emotions when talking about my birthday. It isn't important to me"
"How come? I like having cake on my birthday and my sister always gets me a thoughtful gift"
"I'm an only child and an orphan so I didn't grow up with any birthday customs. On my birthdays I do what I do every other day"
"That's so boring"
"I'm glad I didn't ask for your opinion. If that's everything I'm hanging up, I'm about to leave"
"Where are you going? What do you do on a normal Sunday?"
Montag felt so tempted to tell him it was none of his business but there was no need to be rude. His eagerness was cute and it's been a while since he met someone so transparent with their feelings. Maybe his birthday made him feel like he deserved a bit of attention from someone. At least that much wasn't a sin.
"I'm watching a movie, want to join me?"