"What is love in this temporal life, if not just a distraction from the pain that doesn't seem to end."
After losing his best friend to an unexplained suicide, Mateu finds himself left to pick up the pieces with his best friend's younger brother, Fe...
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I waited for Ferran by the entrance of his waterfront apartment. It was a magnificent historic building with a neoclassical façade – the type of building only an illustrious and well off family such as the Dubreuilhs could afford to live in. It had an excellent view of the old port, of the natural inlet and the endless rows of white yachts moored in the marina.
He told me that he would come downstairs about 15 minutes ago, but there was still no trace of him. I took out a cigarette and lit it up. A small voice whispered at the back of my head – maybe he was just playing with me, maybe he never had any intention on meeting me at all. But I tried shaking those thoughts away for my own sake. I had nothing to lose coming here either way.
True enough, Ferran stepped out of the building a few minutes later. He wore a cream shirt and khaki pants, his bag hanging from his shoulders. He looked angelic as always.
I had just worn an olive polo and khakis. I didn't really do much with my curls, but I did try to tame them at the very least.
"You look amazing," I told him as he walked up to me.
"Thanks," he muttered curtly, as he walked past.
I quickly hastened to catch up with him. Ferran was cold. But he always had been hasn't he? No, this time it was different. The air was certainly heavy around the boy, I wasn't just imagining things. After all, he was the one who gave me the call. If I had things I wanted to tell him, I was sure he had the same.
We walked wordlessly to the restaurant that Ferran had a reservation at. It wasn't that far, and I followed his lead through the streets.
"How do you find the city?" I tried my best to strike up a conversation when we finally sat down.
We were seated outside facing the marina, the sun shining down on us.
"It's okay," he muttered.
He was still as cold as ever. We barely talked as we held our menus in front of us, as if we were trying to shield ourselves from each other. The waiter coming to take our orders was a much need break from the frigid silence.
Having taken the menus away from us, there was nothing between us anymore. Ferran fidgeted with his fingers, and I did the same. The events of the past few days had only served to make the meeting more awkward.
"I really missed you," I finally said. "I guess I just wanted you to know that."
Ferran bit his lip.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I missed you too."
This really wasn't going anywhere. I should've known, honestly. Ferran was terrible at small talk. Once there was something that needed to be said, he couldn't shy away from it.
"Yes," I finally blurted it out. "I have a boyfriend. Had."
I looked up at him and met his gaze. I found myself lost in his sad, sad eyes.
