"That makes four of them." Vilhelm laughs as Julian and Liya very subtly make a run for the bedroom.
"I mean, is the movie really that bad?" I ask, slightly disappointed. "I thought Christmas movies are supposed to be fun."
"They are fun. It's just that the plot is a little too cliched."
"Whatever." I stop the film and sit like a pouty child.
"Hey, come on. We can watch something else, I'm nowhere close to sleepy."
"Really?" I look at him with puppy eyes and he laughs. I am not a movie freak, to be honest. In fact, I rarely ever watch them. But having a buddy to share the pain with sounds fun sometimes and since neither of us is sleepy, we might as well have some screen entertainment.
"Yeup. Anything but romance though. I think we've had enough for tonight."
"You got it." I crawl towards the tiny film collection and surf through the options, rolling my eyes at every Rom-Com that breezes past my gaze. Seriously though, there are other genres too. I feel Vil's presence right next to me and I try my best to not show the effect that has on me, probably succeeding in it because keeping calm comes naturally to me. As if on cue, I find a good distraction. "How do you feel about horror?" I turn to face him with bright eyes, only to realize that he is too close, our noses almost bumping. It's weird that none of us goes all awkward or let's-clear-throats-to-make-the-moment-pass uncomfortable. Of course I see no point in reading too much into it.
"I feel like it'll be a shame to let it go to waste."
I squeal with excitement and immediately put on the CD. Normally, Liya is my horror marathon buddy and we do it after Spencer goes to sleep. That child is terrified of the genre and stays miles away from even a whisper that mentions horror. Liya and I, on the other hand, literally face withdrawal symptoms when we become too detached from the world of ghouls and ghosts and spirits and psychopaths. It works out well because if the horror sticks to our brain cells longer than necessary, Spencer's dragging complaints about it make the pain go away almost immediately.
Vil and I settle down on the sofa and face the screen, waiting for the creepy sounds to begin playing. I'm unfazed most of the time unless the plot is crazy enough to make a sober soul like me go absolutely nuts. It's a good thing that The Conjuring is having at least some effect on my composure, which goes out of the window the moment Vilhelm decides to pull a prank and slowly spill water on my neck, causing me to jump afright.
"YAH!" I yell while the perpetrator holds his stomach and laughs. The film keeps playing and I put a hand on my heart to steady it. "You are dead meat." I grab my water bottle and don't give him even one second before emptying it on his head. But to my discontent, he just laughs it off and pats the space next to him, silently asking me to sit back and continue watching the film. I roll my eyes and maintain good distance between us because I live with Spencer, which means I gradually learnt how to be a pouty kid in situations that demand such a behavior.
Ten minutes later, I feel another warm touch on my skin but it isn't slimy or creepy as the previous one. Instead, it is a safety net that speaks of possible promises that require acknowledgment. I steal a glance towards our now entwined hands and smile slightly. I don't know what confident ghost decides to boost me up because I end up nudging closer to Vil and putting my head on his shoulder, our hands still the same. Together, we watch the rest of the film in silence.
* * *
"No, but your hair is long enough to be put in a ponytail!" I explain as I run after Vil with a rubber band in my hand.
"I prefer to leave my hair open, thank you very much." He goes behind the kitchen counter and I jump over it before he can run away, trapping him between the wall and my outstretched legs.
"Come on, I let you mess up my hair. It's only fair that I do the same!"
"For the record, I did it with your consent."
"Stop being so fussy and let me do it. I promise I'll remove it after ten seconds."
"Alright, fine. But not more than ten seconds."
"Deal!" He gives up finally and comes to stand in front of me as I sit cross legged on the counter. I take a fistful of his hair and successfully bloom it around the rubber band. The hair flowers like a freshly blossomed tulip bud and he actually pulls it off. "See? Not so bad!"
Vilhelm uses his front camera to see the disaster but ends up humming in approval. He positions the phone in such a way that I become visible on the screen, causing me to gasp.
"I look like a possessed brinjal!"
"I don't know what that means so I'll just click pictures."
And he does, so I stop complaining and simply pose with him. After the random selfie session, we sit down together and scroll through the pictures captured, laughing at our possessed appearances and building potential stories around it.
"Here it looks like you have light bulbs for eyes!" Vil guffaws as he points at my enlarged, over expressive eyes.
"I know. I've been told that I can give monologues just by using my eyes." I chuckle. Well, I did a lot of theater in my college and even prior to the academic exposure, I was one dramatic child who knew how to hold on to people's attention. It all eventually paid off in one way or the other.
"And I will not even try to counter that."
We keep scrolling and slowly, the pictures change from our faces to the band photoshoots, Vil's photographic moments with Noah, his pet dog and eventually, some people I'm presuming to be his family. From what I've heard and read, Vilhelm Keller is a very private person who keeps a good distance between the stardom-blown industry and his personal life, which has remained intact and divorced from any kind of rumors or false talk. So obviously, I assumed that he would never openly show a random girl he met a few weeks ago on a beach the intimate, homey pictures of his parents, grandparents or even the aesthetic shots he has taken of sunsets and cloudy skies. I mean, I definitely did not expect him to actually scroll through the pictures and tell me stories about them. I'm pretty sure this sounds like a hallucinatory monologue narrated post seven shots of some cheap alcohol.
"You are really close to your family, aren't you?" I ask after a point, wanting to hear him word it out for real even when I already know the answer. His gaze lifts up from the flashing screen, stares at a flick of dust floating in the air like an invisible atom and then travels across time to land on me. The expression on his face is like the calm surface of an ocean that doesn't want to be disturbed at all.
"More than anything or anyone else in the whole world." The honesty that coats his speech so naturally reminds me of all those magical dialogues in fairy tales that promise comfort and happy endings. It makes me emotional for reasons unknown and I decide to keep it that way. I simply share a smile that might translate into what I'm feeling.
"I feel that in my bones." I say and he smiles back, as if knowing what the sentence means word by word.
"Tell me about your family." He says eagerly and keeps his phone aside. Normally, I'd think twice before coming remotely close to this topic but for some reason, I want to tell him. I feel comfortable enough to tell him. And so, I face him fully and start off.
"I used to live with my parents and my brother in our home but I moved in with the girls a few months after I started working because I needed more space, with all the mannequins and fabric and what not. Plus a lot of my nights involve being noisy because of work, and I didn't wanna disturb everyone with it. My dad is a professor, he still torments students with his dense lectures but I've heard they all adore him too much." I laugh. "My mom runs her own cafe, which is quite literally our most beloved hang out spot. Well then, there is my older brother who I think is secretly in love with a girl after ages of telling us that he wants to focus on himself and himself only."
"Looks like there are other things he'd now like to focus on."
"Yeah. It's about time. He gave his heart and soul to his job, I'd like to see him put himself first for a change."
"Us guys realize that pretty late. It's usually all about earning money and then thinking about the next phase of our lives."
"That's the case with everyone, I believe. Not gender specific."
"Of course."
We sit in silence for a while and look at more pictures. I'm realizing that he is more into clicking pictures of others than taking some of himself, usually turning the gallery into a compilation of sunsets and cloudy skies. Nature is a dominant theme of his gallery, followed by literally everyone surrounding him. But what caught my attention was the absence of pictures from the trip, which is weird because I know I saw him capture moments once in a while when he thought no one was looking. I mean, there is a good possibility that I misunderstood those situations but I'm gonna take a hard pass at that.
"If you're wondering about the most recent pictures, I have saved them in a different folder." Vil says and I blink at him.
"Do you read minds as well?"
He just laughs at that and takes the phone from me, tapping the screen here and there until a new folder pops up. Aligned together like a chain, I spot small icons of a series of images that I am tempted to look at. Vilhelm hands me the phone and nudges me to look. I don't complain and open the first picture, which is of the bonfire day. I can see Julian and Liya in the water while the rest of us are halfway in the air, shouting and jumping. It must be that swimming face-off thingy in which Liya whooped Julian's machismo within seconds. I laugh as I remember the day and move on to the next genre of pictures - us surrounding the bonfire. Vil has taken pictures of the fire, the s'mores, Jeremy and Julian messing around, and finally of Spencer, Liya and I. Jeremy's face sends a slight pang to my heart and I don't think too much about it. Instead, I appreciate how subtly Vil managed to capture the three of us in our element, laughing and stuffing our faces with marshmallows.
I keep scrolling through the pictures, laughing on certain occasions and reminiscing their respective contexts. I can't believe that the vacation will be over soon. No, the accurate way of phrasing the sentence would be the disbelief at the amount of time that has passed since we got here. It has been weeks, which feel like mere minutes of comfort. Time is such an illusion sometimes, it traps you inside a cage of concentric circles.
I see a couple of pictures he took of me and I try to not let that haunt me insanely. He very conveniently decided to look in the opposite direction when I stole a glance towards him. I'm guessing his shy self has returned, now that the secret pictures of me are on display. Under different circumstances, I would've found this situation very creepy and voyeuristic. But since his gallery showed me that he has a thing for taking aesthetic pictures of people around him, it doesn't seem problematic at all. I understand this because Spencer is very much like that. She always has her phone out, she is always capturing moments and we might find it intrusive or annoying when she does that, history tells us that the pictures she took have been like a beacon of hope when things got difficult or too boring. We have taken recluse in those captured moments more often than not, reminiscing the past with bittersweet emotions. So yes, at the end of the day, I have thanked her for this annoying habit. Of course I don't say all of this to Vil and just stay quiet because I don't want to call him out or make him uncomfortable in any way.
"You wanna go to the terrace?" I ask randomly to change the mood.
"Huh?" He's taken by surprise, of course.
"I mean, we can't possibly watch another film. And it's like 4 AM, the sun will be up soon. We can watch it rise. It's really beautiful from up there."
"Well then, we must go." He grins and together, we climb stairs to the terrace after turning off the lights and the TV.
Upstairs, it's still dark and the cool evening breeze is in motion with the incoming early morning breeze. Or maybe I'm just mixing things up because I didn't sleep a wink tonight. Not that I'm complaining. It's just that I might have to take a long nap in the afternoon to ensure that I don't turn into a premature zombie. Vil and I sit together in one corner, resting our backs against the wall, cushioning the contact with pillows we got with us and staring at the sky that is full of stars yet beginning to disappear. I can see the darkness slowly dimming down to make way for the sun. I shiver a little because the breeze is too cold and the sound of beach waves splashing against the rocks is just flaring up my imagination of coldness. I rub my arms, trying to generate some heat and stop the moment Vil wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me towards him, placing my head against his chest. I freeze but don't shy away, slowly getting used to the warmth. Vilhelm's chin rests on top of my head and I can hear him humming one of his singles. I ask him to sing it aloud and he obliges, so I stay quiet and listen to his beautifully deep voice as the sky starts clearing up little by little.
I try my best to not interrupt while he sings but after a point, both of our voices collaborate as one and I smile to myself. I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling, especially considering the fact that it all seems like a fever dream that is far removed from reality and any sense of discomfort. I actually won't be surprised if I wake up tomorrow in our shared apartment, only to find it all to be a long dream. It will be unconscious wish fulfillment at its best and I wouldn't regret any of it. Other than little escapes in the form of hobbies or artistic vacations, dreams are the only pathway through which one can experience the world without actually lifting a finger at all.
The bridge of the song coincides with the subtle sunrise. We stand up and lean against the railing, staring at the sun that slowly emerges through the horizon, enlightening the sea with its youthful brightness. Vil comes to stand behind me, protecting me against the cool breeze by holding me with his sturdy arms. His dark hair gently caresses the soft skin of my neck and I find it hard to not do something about it.
Once the illusionary impact of the sunrise fades away, we step back and start moving towards the staircase wordlessly. I think we both felt the electricity in the moment and gave in to the impossibility of it all. To step out of the sudden change in the air around us, I suggest cooking breakfast together and to my satisfaction, Vil agrees immediately and we bid goodbyes to the momentary awkwardness that had graced us.
* * *