✽✼✽

Shutting the door behind him, Roger walked into his room, following me, silent and stiff. We were waiting for Ms. Robinson to finish cooking up her specialty for my first night back in town; Cajun fried chicken, baked macaroni and cheese, and fresh, buttery mashed potatoes with green peas. Just thinking about it made my stomach have a hard-on. If I had a cook like Ms. Robinson, I would have no self-control and be morbidly obese, dying happily from its complications. Still, even the thought of her food failed to keep me from being on my tiptoes, and things only got worse when Roger sat on the edge of his loveseat, kicking off his shoes, because right then and there reality hit me: we were alone, in his bedroom. His scent was everywhere. I needed something to keep my head in check, fast.

"Hey... bud, tell me, how's college like?"

"It's alright," Roger said, shrugging. "Girls of all colors, shapes, and sizes, everywhere. You'll love it when you get there. Lots of freedom."

"I see."

Leaning in on his sofa, he reached for the desk next to him, picking up his CD player. "I got the new album from that instrumental duo Garden of Secrets, the one you were begging me to get. I thought it would suck, but it's pretty good. You were right. Sometimes, it's better for instruments to sing on their own."

I felt a smile tug at each end of my lips. "Good to know, I'm glad you liked it."

"Wanna hear it?"

"Sure, why not?" Roger opened his CD player, took the disk out of it, and put it in the large sound system of outstandingly great quality by the far end of his room. "Dude, I can't believe you spent that much on a stereo."

The smallest of smiles sneaked its way onto his face. "Music is what I live for right now, helps me calm down," he said, with his soft eyes going someplace far. Roger caught onto himself, however, and quickly added, "Now you know how I feel when you get something on a whim, rich kid."

I found myself giggling. "Wow, okay, throwing some shade I see."

The music played in the background, slowly bringing us into a peaceful form of collective silence. We both sat on the loveseat, our heads facing the ceiling, letting the violin, piano, and flute play together in their unique collaboration. Unfortunately, within minutes, my eyes peeked over at him, stealing my focus away from the piece. Roger was clearly more relaxed than before, unknowingly allowing the purest, or rather the most concentrated levels, of all his agony surface to clear view. His lips were slightly apart and his eyes were sealed shut, highlighting the creases by their ends as well as the bags under them. His twitching hands were spread out, almost poking me, welcoming the music to sway him, to move him, to take him far away from all he knew. Occasionally his chest rose and fell erratically as if he wanted to cry, but could not.

Seeing him the way I did during that moment, I was reminded of why exactly I decided to come over for the spring break── for him. Over the phone, I felt it; I heard it in his voice, in the way he laughed, in the way he spoke── the way he whispered the pain into my ears. This wasn't about me or my damned sexuality or queer inclinations and feelings for him or any guy in general. I was there for my best friend, for Roger, to understand what was going on, to be there for him. Something was eating him, and I was there for him, not for me.

And so, I let it come out as softly and as naturally as possible: "Roger, what's wrong?"

That was all that it took, a small little push, a small little trigger, for his walls to break apart and let all hell bleed through and seep out, loose and free. The tears he couldn't let out before rolled down his cheeks, abandoning him, leaving him all to himself. He bit his lower lip to stop it from quivering, but it failed to do its purpose.

"So you knew, within a single day, you knew," he moaned. "Of course you did, you grew up with me. Even Mama noticed something was wrong."

"From over half a thousand miles away, yes, I knew."

✽✼✽

"Dan... with these hands, I... I've hurt people. So, so many of them. I hear their voices... their cries, their screams, their pleas, everywhere I go. Their ghosts follow me, curse me, condemn me, and as their reaper... as the Reaper, I deserve it."

The food was out, warm and ready on the table, and so were the plates and utensils. Three full plates; one for me, one for Ms. Robinson, one for Roger. We all sat in our seats, ready to eat.

"I was stripped of my humanity one day, forced to become one of the many puppets of the underworld living right amongst us. Dan, the person before you is nothing but a monster."

I was the first to feed myself, and soon enough Ms. Robinson and Roger followed. Such a delicacy, a homemade dinner whose main ingredients were baked and cooked with the purest form of love.

"I'm trying hard to get out, but it's not happening any time soon. I might not be coming out of it in one piece, if I'll even be breathing by then."

Ms. Robinson ate her meal with pride, savoring every bite, patting herself on the back, completely oblivious── or at least acting as such, to the way her beloved son occasionally played with the peas on his plate. She knew nothing, but suspected something. Her only child was suffering and she felt it, but could only wonder why. From what Roger told me, she has given him some space, giving him ample time to open up whenever he felt comfortable to do so. However, that day will never come. He refused to open up about it, and for a fairly good reason.

"Dan, if anything happens to me, I beg you to not tell my mother, don't let her go through that, please."

Midway into finishing up my meal, Ms. Robinson put down her utensils. Her plate was squeaky clean. "Daniel, did you hear about Roger's last semester? He spent it studying abroad in London after earning a good scholarship. He's still got lots to reap from it, and just with its scraps I could get myself a whole new house! His papa would have been so proud."

Roger coughed out a helping of macaroni and cheese, right onto his plate. "Ma!"

"I had to withdraw from my classes last semester, I had way too many jobs; I was a favorite. I learned far too fast, skipped far too many ranks, handled things far too well. I thought I wouldn't come back and it overwhelmed me more than before... and then one day I snapped. The attention calmed down after that, but it doesn't change what I've done, what I'm doing."

"Oh come on, little Robin," Ms. Robinson cooed. "You should be proud! Go get yourself a house with that money, invest some, and save the rest!"

"It's all dirty money. All of it."

Roger carefully played with his peas again, his front at the brink of breaking again after hours of gluing and taping it together with me and the Garden of Secrets. "I... I don't know, Mama." Out of instinct, he hid his head into his shoulders.

"I... I don't know what to do. Am I worthy enough to repent for my sins, to redeem myself? How can I live with the pain, if I don't deserve to give in to the easy void? Can a monster try to be human?"

I put down my own utensils, and reached for Roger's back for a quick rub. He jerked slightly when he felt my hand on him, but relaxed soon after. "You should give it all to charity, or donate it to some humanitarian project, or build a haven for others, like a homeless shelter or orphanage. I don't know, just... give it to those in need, give back. Do good. No more reaping, just as you wanted."

"What?!" In that instant, I thought Ms. Robinson would flip the table, but she didn't. Instead, she banged her fists onto it, making her son and I flinch. "Why give it all away like that? This is the chance of a lifetime, he would be set for life with it!"

A tiny but sturdy smile suddenly dared to bud out of Roger's lips. Hope. "That... it's still not enough," he mumbled, looking down, but the glow in his eyes said a million other things. Hope, out of the many. He may have found a reason to continue on, or at least a spark that may lead him to one.

I felt my cheeks burn with passion. Tears followed right after, blurring my sight with the purest of all emotions. How long has it been since I saw such life in him── since the week before I moved away?

My heart skipped a beat not for how incredibly handsome my best friend was, but for the genuine elation that tugged at its strings.

All at once, my life felt complete.