My phone displays the ruined beauty of Liebetown, there are not many available pictures on the internet, only a few that show the brown walls and destroyed houses, only greens, not a single standing building. The air mixed with the dust creates an image of loneliness. I scroll and scroll to find something interesting, But it's all abandoned stores and houses. One thing that spikes up my interest is there's not a single crack on the road, No wrappers laying on the streets. Too clean and tidy. I'm unsure if we're allowed to go there, to a place that is nothing but ruins yet somehow intriguing.
I look up to Lucian, He's staring out of the window admiring the beauty of autumn.
Liebetown has nothing but some trees, A Lot of trees, actually. It seems familiar despite the fact that I've never heard of this town before. Maybe my brain is comparing it with the haunted houses in movies.
Lucian glances at me once with a smile,
"You can rest your shoulders, why are you so worried?" He asks in such a sense that he wouldn't mind if I don't answer.
"I don't know anything about Liebetown." I confess, getting more anxious about saying it out loud. "I thought it might be an interesting place to go for photographs."
He squints his left eye, affected by the rays directly hitting his eyes. "It's okay if you don't know anything about it. Most people don't, I'm just familiar with that place, and I'm sure it's interesting."
When I don't say anything he continues. "That town has a story That no one knows about, I'm trying to unfold it." He says with a somewhat tired expression. Like he doesn't wish to do that, as if he's curious yet won't be surprised if there's nothing of his expectations.
"Are you a fan of love stories?" I ask, Not knowing what else to do to wipe off that expression. He nods at my question, "I was always a fan of love stories, that's the most interesting part of the history, Love." He continues, "No matter how many pyramids are broken or how many crowns are buried in the land, how many lovers died but the love is still alive. It never dies, somewhere, someone knows about it." A half smile appears on his face. His way with words overwhelms me, making me silently agree with him, lovers die but love Doesn't.
"Are you?" He asks, breaking my unintentional zoning out, "fan of love stories?"
"Yes, I am." I agree, where sometimes I hate to be one. The unrealistic expectations, the tales of love finding their way back, I hate it when it's not possible in this reality.
"In fact I have a historical love story with me." I say, removing a book, A diary to be specific. I shuffle through the weakening pages, soft below my touch.
"Is that your love story?" He chuckles, asking silly questions for silly answers but This in fact is my love story, ours.
"Uh, you wish." I laugh without intending to.
He doesn't ask for the diary, Instead he says "How about you read that for me?" The question spun my mind around, not knowing what to answer, so I said nothing.
I keep the diary close to me in my arms, pressing it to my chest. The pages torn and ruined cracks a little. I wrote this when I was about to begin high school when I started to get the memories of everything, of him. I haven't read it again once I finished writing the last page. He doesn't ask anything more, nor does he complain about me not replying to his request. What I hope is that he snatched the diary and read it all without my explanation But he's too polite to do that And I'm too sensitive to read it out loud for him.
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The time doesn't pass per second, I keep watching the hand of my watch moving. it's only been two hours and I already made it uncomfortable for us, he's been reading the same notepad.
Three days should not be that hard, all i have to do is ask for his phone number or something that can connect me with him, So I can include him in my future, keep him around. It doesn't matter if he won't like me, I'll be happy to just be in his presence, to be his friend. The new memories, Happy ones instead of the one that makes me feel Haunted and hurt my head.
I look at him from the corner of my eye, now his head resting on the window as he stares out. The similarity makes It look like he never died, It was just me. The reincarnation of Elion as Lucian. He's still Elion, the only difference is Now he smiles for everyone.
I wonder if Achilles reincarnated too, for meeting the other half soul of him. If patroclus waited for him to do so. Or if they were not as lucky as us to be reincarnated at the same time.
I don't know why I was the one to remember those things, or if they're just scenarios I made up. they're too vivid and too close to my heart for being just scenarios. I thought the majestic beauty of Elion was just inside my head because a beauty like him couldn't exist unless it was for a wait of hundreds of years. Then it existed, Hundreds of years ago, and now. I don't know how many years ago it was, Even the internet doesn't know anything about them or the place. But it was all written I believe, for us being reincarnated in the same period. It's more of a curse than a blessing to remember, when he doesn't.
After some time he asked me about my hometown or what I was majoring in. It felt like revealing too much, but I answered him anyway. He talked about the books his mother wrote and how he got interested in history.
"I was ten years old when my mother was writing a love story, historical fiction." He said. "She completed the whole thing when I was twelve and I read that. I wasn't allowed to because it was targeted for a mature audience and I was supposed to be studying for my exams but I liked the way my mother talked about her characters, I was intrigued, wanted to see if her writing would be the same as she told me." chuckles to himself,
"I stole the draft from her drawer for three nights straight, read it all instead of studying or sleeping." He laughed at his own silliness, seemingly to be comfortable once again.
"That story Traumatized me because the main character died in the end, I didn't talk to my mother for a week because I believed that she killed her." We burst into laughter at the thought of it.
"Don't laugh, it was actually very sad, and I cried even while writing the exam." He says, laughing himself. My cheeks hurt from laughing. Only because of his deep laugh being a very contagious one.
"Did she let you read any of her other work? Afterwards?" I ask not wanting to end this wholesome conversation.
"She did sometimes, before publishing it, so I was her first reader." The memories of his mother seem very sweet and dear to him, unlike Elion's.
I asked for his mother's name so I could read her work and support her books, but when he told me, My jaw hung open. "Josephine R.D Is your mother?" I stare at him in pure amusement. Not one thing about this journey could have warned me about meeting the son of my favorite author.
"I don't believe you." I say in an unbelievable tone.
He laughs at my amusement making me do the same. "The R stands for 'Rose' her middle name and the D stands for 'Donnovon.' our last name." He says, removing his phone.
After a minute he faces his phone to me, showing me a photo of him and his mother.
"You could be her fan in that photo, it looks too formal." I doubt it senselessly. He covers his face, hiding a grin at my accusations. To clear it all He shows me some more photos, a video clip from her birthday too.
"Please tell her I love her and I read all of her work." I plead, smiling at the possibility of getting known by her.
"Now we're speaking." He brags with a halfway smirk. "Well jokes aside, you can come to my house with me to meet her." He offers.
My heart beats faster at the thought of it, Her words inspired me at every word i wrote. Meeting her was just a dream that I didn't even know I had. She had a superiority with each fiction, hypnotizing me with the universes of their own. This whole situation is the opposite of sense, as much as I want to say yes, I say the opposite.
"Oh well that would be bothersome for her and you."
He starts telling me about how nice she is and loves to meet her fans. When I still don't agree he suggests that I can just go as his friend instead.
The possibilities are testing my patience. I find myself slightly considering it, not knowing anything about when or where.
His gaze lingers around the diary in my arms but he doesn't ask for it yet. Nor does he seem to be curious if it weren't for his eyes. The only matching quality of Elion.
"How many days are you staying in Liebetown?" I asked when no topic seemed to rise from his side. I cannot hide my curiosity unlike him or maybe it's because I'm more curious when I'm only going there for him.
"Who knows. It can be a week or a month." He predicted.
A week sounds like a short time if he continues to talk just like we did previously but it takes a few words and actions to make everything awkward. I cannot stay there as long as him if it's a month, I have to tell him the story, have to form a friendship even if he doesn't remember anything. three days inside the train and a week in Liebetown will decide my whole life.
"What about you? You're just going for photography, so two days? I don't think it's that interesting for you." He guessed.
"I'll be staying there for more than two days, it's a big town. if it's not interesting I have to make it interesting For myself and my photography." I managed to answer his question without giving him an exact number of days. If I said I would be staying there for a week too, I might look like a stalker, which I possibly am becoming.
"Are you going to be a proper professor there? Like writing stuff about things you see?" I joke but he doesn't laugh at it.
"I'll write the details, yes. Even if there's no one and it's abandoned, there might be someone, something." He hopes in extreme seriousness.
"The streets are too clean to be abandoned. According to my knowledge there's only one hotel little away from the mainland. Of course they won't be the willing one to keep the whole land clean."
Now he's not even talking to me but himself.
"There has to be a reason why no one is buying such big land when it could be a great tourist place." Everything he says makes sense to me But the way he wants to know the past of the town doesn't.
Everyone might be curious about it, I'm too despite I just got aware of its existence. How can a beautiful town like that be broken and abandoned? but that doesn't mean I would try to jump in a rabbit hole About it when the information isn't available or accessible anywhere. I scan the other seats, not many people are here around four including us and the baby if it counts as a person. The serenity of air and day dimming is precious to our presence. The lady with a baby minds her own business, she stares out of the window, her eyes red and sleepless unlike the child who's in a deep sleep.
Lucian stares at me as I examine them, trying to guess their reasons for going there.
"How long have you known about Liebetown?" I ask catching him off guard as he stares at me. At first he's too stunned, opens his mouth to say something but then he changes his mind.
After a while he speaks collected again, "I heard about it from my mother's friend, She said she'll be using the similar features of that town in her story." He explains, adding about the authors and their obsession with writing very detailed scenes.
"At first I didn't mind but they both started talking about it more and more in front of me and I got curious." his eyes spark the same when he first talked about the meaning behind our names.
"The first time I went there it was scary, I was alone and didn't know anything. I took the train back the same day I arrived." He chuckles at his own actions.
"I told my mom I was going to meet my friend, one who lives out of town. She believed my lie and didn't bother to ask for further explanation." I nod as I listen to him speak, everything he says sounds interesting and convincing.
"Second time I was a little confident and tried clicking pictures and discovered that hotel too. I didn't book a room, I just admired it from outside. Then I researched all of it for a year, at least."
The look on his face shifts from excited to exhausted,
"and now I'm here again for the third time." He says with a sigh.
I understand his curiosity to know more about it, the town is like a hidden treasure. He, a historian? Would give it all to find the history behind it.
"You can be my guide, thank god." he laughs at my statement.
"What did you find in your research?" I wonder. The laugh disappears little by little, leaving just a sly smile on his face.
"Well, it's quite confidential you see?" He folds his arms holding back another laugh.
"Oh confidential, I see." I giggle, hiding my interest and curiosity. Even if I tried to find something about it, I won't be able to as much as he knows.
"Come on, just tell me." I mutter after some minutes, trying not to sound too needy.
"I'll." He looks out of the window then back to me. "When you read that to me." He points his eyes on my diary. My heart catches a quick beat.
"You can read it." I offer the diary to him,
"Nope. That would be boring for our journey, I'm a great reader, I swear but I want you to tell me that story so we both are doing something, you talking, me listening."
I hate how his brain works. He doesn't want me to feel bored or left out, I don't mind it. I can sit here and admire him as he reads, but I don't know if I'll be able to explain how I wrote it. I just wanted him to find the pieces of us in it by himself.
"Let's see." I open the book, and he sits straight, attentive now.
"The story of Elion and Oryn." I read the title and he presented me with a toothy smile.