Your Name, Forever

The Twilight of the Idols

XX/XX/15

Your name, forever. Forever the siren who drowned the boy. Forever the siren that dragged the man to shore. She smiled today, and the world danced. She played the fiddle in the vastness of seas, and I drowned at her shore. I was never taught to sail her tides, but I will set sail, charting a course for her storm. Let her rain cool the fire she's set in me, let her song put me to sleep.Your name, forever, next to mine.

"Who died?" A man asked.

Startled, you looked up from the stubborn doorknob, turning toward the voice, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You're dressed in black, your eyes are red and your bag is full of pity letters. Who died?"

The man seemed younger than you, in his late twenties at most. He wore a brown shirt with the top button undone, neatly tucked into light-washed jeans. Beneath it, a white T-shirt peeked out. His dark brown hair was unkempt but a semblance of order was kept by strands tucked behind his ears.

"My mother," You said flatly, turning back to the stubborn door.

He remained silent for a moment but then added, gesturing to the apartment next door, "I'm the new neighbor."

"Right," The lock resisted, and your grip tightened in frustration.

"What's your name?" His tone is light and conversational, as if he just didn't hear what you just said.

"Y/N," You answered, sharper than intended.

"Vulkan, V-U-L-K-A-N," He extended his hand. "Like volcano but with a 'u' and a 'k'."

You were too focused on pulling and pushing the door to shake his hand.

"You want help?" He asked, leaning forward slightly.

Your grip around the key tightened, hesitant, before letting go, "Sure..."

He stepped closer as you handed him the key. His hands were steady as he inspected the lock, tilting his head slightly as if studying a puzzle. With a practiced ease, he twisted the doorknob side to side, pushed it inward, then outward, before twisting the key. The lock clicked, and the door creaked open.

You couldn't help but ask, "How did you do that?"

"You have to pull the door while unlocking it from the outside," He explained, handing the key back. "From the inside, you just push it. My last place had one like it-old building."

"Thank you... Uh..." You faltered, the name escaping you.

"You're welcome." He then gestured towards the hallway, "For how long have you been living here?"

"A long long time," You replied, finally lifting your eyes to make eye-contact.

You immediately regretted it. His pale green eyes were mesmerizing, glinting like ghostly emeralds under the dim hallway light.

"This must be a good place to live in," He said with a nod.

"Yes, it is very quiet," You answered as you focused your gaze somewhere else. "Not much happens here. Most of the tenants are seniors or retirees."

"Sounds peaceful," He said, his smile broadening. "Just what I need."

And it was. His presence, his oddly cheerful demeanor-it was infectious, chipping away at the darkness weighing on your chest.

"Where are you moving from?" You asked, more out of politeness than curiosity.

He opened his mouth to answer, but a sharp voice cut him off.

"Vulkan, what are you doing? Leave the lady alone!"

The door to his apartment swung open, and an older woman stepped out. She was small but imposing, her gray hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her expression was one of exasperated authority.

Vulkan visibly shrank, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I was introducing myself to the neighbor," He said quietly, the cheer draining from his voice.

"Introducing yourself?" She grabbed his arm firmly but not unkindly, pulling him toward his door and pushing him in, away from your view. "You are bothering her."

You blinked, confused, "No, he was helping me, actually-"

"I know he can be intense..." The woman followed up, practically talking over you. "I'm very sorry if he caused you any trouble."

"He didn't-"

"Please," She insisted, her voice softening but still firm. "If he ever does, don't hesitate to call me." Then, she pulled a small card from her pocket and handed it to you.

You glanced down at the card, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

2125556342 Übermensch

Private Association of Social Workers

Maun Yore

Social Worker

358 Office, XXX XXXX, X.X. 100099 FAX 2125556390 TELEX 104534

You looked up, still processing the exchange, "Uh... Thanks."

"Have a good day," Maun said briefly before retreating inside.

The door closed with a decisive thud, leaving the hallway eerily quiet.

The business card in your hand stirred a strange annoyance. With a shake of your head, you pocketed the card and stepped inside your apartment, the eerie quiet following you in. The sight was overwhelming, it was a mess that hasn't faced any push back.

You shrugged off your coat, hanging it next to your purse on the brasshook by the door. As you walked further in, a loud thud echoed behind you, making you pause for half a second, then keep walking.

The hallway opened into the living room. You used to complain about the furniture making it feel cramped but now, your mind felt busier. The floral armchair by the window still bore the faint imprint of your mother's frame, the cushion slightly concave while the knitted blanket was draped neatly over the back. Next to it, a small side table held a lamp and a scattering of her things-an old pair of reading glasses, the Bible and the last letter Rose sent.

The walls were crowded with photographs, each one carefully framed. There was one of you at the beach beneath a big palm tree, you wore sunglasses while your mother stood behind you with a big bright grin. Another showed the two of you at your highschool graduation, her arm around your shoulder as she smiled at the camera. Seemingly a lifetime ago but truly, only fifteen years.

Your mother's smile was wide and shameless in her joy. She didn't care if others made themselves question if they had truly ever been happy when they saw her.

The memories twisted something in your chest. A few tears pricked at your eyes, but you wiped them away quickly, sinking back into the couch. The only noise now was inside your mind.