Nature had its own way creating a beautiful stage. Jamie considered that to be true, especially in those moments in his mail route in which he stood in absolute, serene, silence.
Before him, past a rather conspicuous sports car, black metal stairs ascended up the face of an unassuming apartment complex. The muted colors of the building, drab and unremarkable, more akin to some set meant to invoke a sense of unease on an audience, withered into dullness before the glow of the growing twilight. The world beyond was already dark, and steeped in absolutely quiet. What enrapturing speeches were needed when emotions did the talking in such scenes? Jamie's predilection for theater, and the decision he had come to make, were born of the same feeling. It was more than theatrics. There were no theatrics in earnest displays, he knew. He was in a stage, away from any theater, but in this instance, he was neither an actor, adapter, nor passive spectator.
That filled Jamie with courage.
Was ascending the many flights of stairs leading to his other half's apartment not unlike the titanic climax of a riveting performance in action, in resolve, and in determination? It could even work for a play. Yes, a fleeting gesture, Jamie thought, quick to end like the day, yes, so mundane as to go unnoticed by onlookers, but to an audience. . . tears.
Maybe.
Eight floors worth of stairs, though he could've left the heavy package in some assigned ground level-mailbox. A solemn character, yes, up a flight of stairs. Silently. On a journey that ends at last, as the sun goes down. Then,
Curtains. Scene.
Jamie's wants and needs were not always the same. Of needing, there were mailboxes out there that needed to be filled, and of wanting - what he wanted made no matter, he didn't have much time. Altering routes had consequences.
The ordeal ended at the stairs. It was almost appropriate that Kevin's door was the nearest. He knocked, taking a deep breath. Through the peephole, Jamie's nose seemed like a pulsating, bloated monster, with its beady, far-apart eyes glinting in the light of sunset.
Kevin opened the door, and Jamie thought he had seen in him surprise for the briefest of moments. "Jamie," a smile spread across his face, bright in its sincerity and gorgeous in its simplicity, though an instant later, before Jamie could blink, it settled into comfortable smugness. He raised an eyebrow, "How could I pretend to not get why you would be willing to go through so much trouble just to have some of Kevin?"
"If only for a second." He presented the box. "Your package."
"Ah, right." Kevin received it, stepping back to open the door wider. He stood aside, looking away, his intent left unspoken. "Thank you."
Jamie held firm. "What is it? It's heavy."
He shrugged. "Cant remember." Kevin tossed the package out of sight. He didn't spare his belongings a glance as dishes crashed and settled somewhere inside. "It was an excuse mostly. Well? Come in already."
Jamie hesitated. "I-I, well I can't right now." he admitted, fidgeting with the strap of his mailbag. "HahA, you know, the mail doesn't deliver itself. I only stopped by for a moment."
Kevin pouted, "Will you be able to live knowing what you're missing?"
Jamie stood transfixed, unable to look away. He gulped. "I must."
"Cruel."
"I must be cruel, only to be kind," he said, trying to add levity to a situation which was, as he well knew, quite seriously wearing down his resistance. Ten minutes. He could kiss him by then. Leave after. The hero had to resist. Regaining his composure, however briefly, he raised a fist, and shut his eyes - to close out with a lark "How will I go on? Yet I must leave. I'll have more time soon. Say goodbye to me."
