Lovers who Uncover

“It's all in my head If you want You can look inside There's nothing but red And the, the mess I've been” Underoath - The Created Void Have you ever seen those photos inside of picture frames they sell at commercial stores? Almost every time, these are showing a happy family, a young couple in love, a smiling baby or two elderly people who are enjoying their last stage in life with each other… If yes, then have you ever felt disgust at the imperturbable happiness they're representing? Wanted to remove the picture from the frame, to rip it apart and replace it with a more realistic one? Were you ever fed up with smiling all the time?.. Well, Antonio Fernández Carriedo could answer all these questions with a yes, since this was what his own life looked like: a painting of uninterrupted happiness, an existence stuck in a monotone routine where you had to be happy as if it was a full-time job. Boring, shallow, empty, hollow, useless. His only purpose in life was to follow the protocol of all the generations before him which they had been fulfilling with mediocre results: to be born, grow up, study, work, get married, have kids, grow old and finally die, trying to convince yourself that you have led a life full of blessings, lucky to be happy and to smile all the time. Because this was the type of life everybody wishes for, right? Yes, his purpose in that world consisted of being a functioning member of society, of turning his days into a specifically drawn organization chart that he would pass on to the little creatures that would be his offspring who would lead the same useless existence and live in eternal happiness just to show the image everyone wanted to see. No one would put any objections to a smiling face, after all. Being aware of all that, Antonio got out of bed yet another morning of his 22 years of life, looking at his smile in the bathroom mirror… and feeling empty. This wasn't the first time this was happening. “Must be my age,” he said, shrugging and trying to convince himself that it was just something akin to a midlife-crisis. The handsome, tanned young man with emerald eyes quickly dressed and went downstairs to have breakfast, humming a Spanish song he had liked since his childhood. Every time he sang it, it brought him back to that time. The smell of scrambled eggs and toast made his stomach grumble, so he hurried to the kitchen, where his mother was busy finishing the breakfast preparations. Antonio almost ran up to her, greeting her with a gentle kiss on the cheek from behind and trying to pinch a bit of food. But she playfully slapped his hand. “Sit down like a decent person,” she scolded him, and his father laughed, seeing his adult son pout like a little boy. The head of the family folded the newspaper and set it aside, while his wife was placing the food on the table. The three of them sat down to eat, briefly informing each other about their plans for the day. Mr. Fernández said something about a meeting, surely with important people, and Mrs. Carriedo quickly listed her household chores and named a few social events. “I’ll meet a friend after my lectures,” said Antonio, smiling as always. “Going to party with Gilbert and Francis again?” his dad inquired casually. “No, it’s a new friend.” Antonio laughed, feeling like a mischievous kid, for he knew that his parents would never approve of this new friend if they knew the truth. The conversation went on for a little longer. This time, Antonio stayed silent which he rarely did, merely watching that routine he always participated in, and was once again attacked by that feeling similar to repulsion, although he didn't show it on his face. Resting his cheek against his palm while picking up his cup of coffee with his other hand and listening to his parents’ blah blah blah, he started remembering the one he had met in that nightclub and couldn't help thinking that this grumpy and rude guy with the sad eyes was the most authentic person he had ever seen in his life. A failed attempt at flirting had been enough to make him realize that the one he had been talking to wasn’t an image of eternal happiness. That guy hadn’t been smiling kindly at him nor tactfully turning him down: while emptying one glass after the other, there was a desperation in his eyes that seemed to be suffocating him, even though he was acting naturally. And then came the part where he had seen him taking drugs without any shame, neither trying to hide nor to deny what he was doing. His dilated pupils had shown excitation, but the same desperation from before had still lingered there. Was it wrong to feel attracted by someone who obviously didn't fit into the right parameters Antonio had grown up with? Was it wrong to want to get infected by that sad authenticity that guy was emanating? Was it wrong to feel a certain unhealthy temptation and morbid curiosity while thinking of all the things going through the latter's surely rotten mind? Antonio didn't know the answers, so he just smiled wider and took another sip from his cup. The Spaniard gave his mother a kiss on the forehead and his father a pat on the back and left the house in order to get to university, eating a churro and reading a book on the way, hoping to not trip and fall while heading to the bus stop. He hoped time would pass quicker so he could see Lovino again, whom he had been calling the entire Sunday until the latter finally picked up the phone. After one hour, he had managed to talk him into meeting again, but there was still a big chance of Lovino simply not showing up. And after the always boring bus ride, he finally reached his university, where he saw the usual crowd that was hurrying to their respective lectures. Among them, he spotted his two best friends and greeted them cheerfully. “Hey, Antonio. Gilbert and I thought you’d be stuck in the bedroom of that guy from last weekend’s party,” Francis said, the blond one with the blue eyes, who was the Spaniard’s childhood friend. You could call Francis a typical womanizer, who, realizing that he was only one year away from having to face real adult life, was trying to get into as many beds as he could before dedicating himself to gray business suits, a wife and children, until going into retirement, where he would at least have a few interesting stories to tell during gatherings with friends and to convince himself that his life hadn't been that shitty after all. “‘Course not, he turned me down, but I won't miss the opportunity to at least have a proper conversation with him today.” Antonio’s laughter infected the others. “Just a conversation? That's pathetic, my friend, what the two of you need is a wild roll in the hay,” Gilbert commented, the albino with the red eyes and an eternal mocking grin on his face. Gilbert was one of the many young people who just went with the flow and never questioned anything. He had never thought how his life would be if he didn't obey his parents or teachers. No, instead, he just lived a comfortable life, thinking that going to parties, binge-drinking until losing conscience, and having casual sex from time to time meant that he was doing what he wanted, though in reality he was fated to finish his studies and start to work in a company that would end up sucking out his vibrant spirit one called youth. And in twenty or something years, he would find himself sitting on the couch every Sunday, watching soccer with a can of beer in his hand, and missing the good old times, feeling that his life was going down the drain. Antonio knew all that: while joking and playing around with Francis and Gilbert, he was more than aware of the fact that such a destiny was awaiting him as well… but after getting scolded by a professor and seeing his friends run to the lecture hall, his thoughts returned to Lovino for a few seconds. That guy was surely no older than 19. Had he really dared to rebel against the established norms? Just decided one day that he would escape that world and create a new one with the help of drugs?.. He had to ask him later about it. And like that, Antonio spent the day attending boring management and economy classes and all the other subjects he was oddly very good at, because he liked playing with numbers. Listening to the professor’s explanations, he mechanically took notes without wiping the smile from his face, as if everything was amusing him. Turning the page in his textbook, he accidentally cut his fingertip and let out a barely audible “Ouch!”. A tiny blood drop left the small wound, and Antonio kept staring at it, as if hypnotized. Still in trance, he put his finger into his mouth, perceiving the very slight metallic taste of his own blood and feeling the faint stinging papercuts used to cause. That was the moment he realized something very obvious: the existence of pain. “When was actually the last time I felt pain?” he thought to himself, noticing that he didn't remember… that for many years, he hadn't done anything besides smiling. The feeling of emptiness became even stronger. And when the lectures were finally over, he quickly said goodbye to his friends and hurried to the park near the university. Tucking his jacket tighter around his body as he felt the humid breeze that predicted a bit of rain, he began looking for the other. And just as fifteen minutes had passed, and he was about to give up, having walked through almost the entire empty park, he finally found him. Lovino was sitting on a shabby metallic bench, smoking and contemplating the landscape with a furrowed brow as if there was something bothering him. Though Antonio couldn't see anything unusual. “Hasn’t your mommy never told you that drugs are bad?” Antonio joked, approaching him and perceiving the smell of marijuana coming from the cigar Lovino was taking deep inhalations from. “And hasn’t yours never warned you about talking to strangers?” Lovino replied, holding his breath for a few seconds and letting the smoke enter his throat. “I didn't think you’d really come.” Antonio giggled and sat down beside the other, who finally let out the smoke through his nose and mouth, watching it spread through the air. “It was better than staying home,” Lovino said, trying to relax and get carried away by the effect of the weed… but to no avail. Everything stayed gray and bland. “So entertain me before I send you packing.” He stuck the cigar into his mouth once more, making the other end light up a couple of times, and repeated the process of holding the smoke in for a few seconds. Then, he offered the cigar to Antonio, who politely refused with a movement of his hand. “No, thank you,” he said, earning himself a strange look from Lovino. They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, listening to the wind agitating the branches of the trees. Antonio glanced towards Lovino from time to time, while the latter leaned his back against the bench and threw his head back, staring at the sky and finally succumbing to the relaxing effect of the marijuana. “I was wondering about something this morning…” Antonio spoke up, breaking the silence. “What has pushed you to do all this? You look like one of these guys who want to slap society in the face and rebel against the system.” He looked with interest at Lovino’s crude smile. The latter slowly shook his head. “Rebel against the system?.. Nah, I’m not that deep of a person,” he slurred, taking another drag from his almost consumed cigar. “Then…” Antonio insisted, getting an annoyed glare now. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you a motivational speech or anything and not even say that what you're doing is wrong, I’m just curious, that's all.” He shrugged. The other squinted his reddened eyes and brushed his bangs back with his hand. After another dramatic silence, he finally opened his mouth, took a deep breath and spoke. “I was sixteen and just woke up one day, feeling like the biggest piece of trash in the world.” He laughed at that somber thought. “It was as if I suddenly realized that my entire life was nothing but garbage. Yeah… I just opened my eyes one morning and felt all the filth inside of me, not even knowing when it had managed to pile up that high.” Lovino remembered that particular morning from three years ago, as if it had been yesterday. “I was in high school back then and knew some people with a dubious reputation…” He made a pause to straighten his back and face Antonio, who was carefully listening. Lovino pointed at him with the cigar he was holding between his thumb and index finger. “People are always saying that drugs are bad and will kill you someday.” Antonio nodded, seeing Lovino smile with slight cynicism. “Well… I was always well aware of that. And since I was too afraid to blow my brains out or slit my wrists, I chose the slowest method to kill myself. Slow and fun… I just didn't expect to actually find life in these things that are killing me.” He laughed again and took a last drag, holding his breath as much as possible and slowly releasing the small cloud of gray smoke out of his mouth and nose. Antonio had the impression that he was watching Lovino's deformed soul escape his almost destroyed mortal body. A soul that was desperately trying to flee, mixing with the cold wind and gray sky. “But you don’t understand, eh?” Lovino grumbled between clenched teeth, throwing the rest of the cigar on the ground and stomping on it. “You're right, I don’t,” Antonio agreed, scratching his neck and still smiling. The other frowned, thinking he was made fun of. “I’ve always had a happy life, my parents love me, I have friends who cherish me and there’s nothing I lack. Since I was small, I was always told to smile, because I don't have anything to cry about. I need to express how lucky I am all the time, and this is what I do.” He laughed as he noticed the disgust on the Italian’s face, who was about to get up and leave, and looked him in the eye. “But I still feel an emptiness right here.” Antonio placed his hand on Lovino's stomach. “Have you ever felt it? A sensation that something is missing, and you're constantly trying to fill it up, but it only seems to grow bigger… maybe it’s something similar to what happened to you.” Lovino didn't seem to understand why the Spaniard was still smiling while telling things like that. “I don't have any motive for wanting to kill myself like you do… but…” Antonio removed his hand. “But neither any reason to continue living. Everything just seems so boring to me, and every day's monotonous happiness doesn't give me anything to cling to. I’m in a limbo where I’ve already forgotten what it means to actually be alive,” he recited poetically, averting his gaze from Lovino's and concentrating on the hollow sensation in his stomach. They were surrounded by silence again, and the atmosphere became heavy, making their shoulders slump as they looked at the gray scenery in front of them. There weren’t any children nor elderly couples in that park. Just some street dog, who was looking for something to eat. “That shit didn't work, I’m leaving,” Lovino said, surely talking about the marijuana, and got up, putting his hands into his pockets. “I’ll come with you.” Antonio immediately stood up as well. “Hey wait, I’m not exactly going to buy sweets. Better stay here,” Lovino objected and started to walk, but was followed by the cheerful Antonio, who was carrying his backpack on one shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Just let me accompany you, I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” He raised his hand as if swearing an oath. Lovino grumbled and silently agreed. Antonio conveniently ignored the fact that he had plans to see Francis and Gilbert later and also had a few things to do in the library… one little getaway wouldn't kill him. They took the metro to the final station. Antonio talked and talked, and Lovino listened to him. Well, in reality, he wasn't listening at all, instead being concentrated on counting the stations until his destiny while moving his foot like some kind of nervous tic he didn't know when he had acquired at all. Antonio noticed Lovino's anxiety and the way the latter almost jumped from his seat when they finally arrived and left the station in order to enter a pretty normal-looking street. The Spaniard had always thought the places where you got that illegal stuff were dark alleys like in Brooklyn with people eyeing you and following you, ready to stab and rob you, but that neighborhood wasn't like that. It obviously was no residential zone either, just a common street where people from the middle class could live peacefully. They finally reached an apartment building that didn't have an intercom nor a janitor, so they allowed themselves the luxury to go up the spiral stairs in peace. Or at least Antonio, since Lovino was taking two steps at once, cursing the fact that the apartment they were headed to was almost at the very top of the building. Almost out of breath, they finally reached a white door. The Italian knocked on it a few times, and a few groans could be heard from the other side. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” But Lovino still continued to punch the door until it was finally opened. “Jeez, stop that already!” a guy with long, disheveled hair exclaimed. His eyes were sleepy, and he was wearing a pink satin dressing gown. The garment was sliding down one of his shoulders, revealing bruises on his neck and part of his collarbone. His also exposed thighs and part of his groin were full of them as well. Feliks put on a smile and leaned one of his arms against the door frame, trying to look sensual. To no avail. “Lovi, my love! What brings you here? Oh, and you're, like, even coming with a friend. Don’t forget that threesomes are charged at double rate.” He gave Antonio a lewd glance, making the latter laugh nervously. “I’ll just pretend I didn't hear that. Better tell me what you have to offer.” Lovino shoved Feliks to the side and entered the apartment, followed by Antonio, who looked around in the almost empty place. Contrary to what it looked like from outside, Feliks' apartment seemed abandoned: the paint cracked on the white walls, and he had a couch where the stuffing was visible in a few parts and a table that looked like a strange improvised laboratory with traces of white powder and spoons, syringes, lighters, bags of marijuana, and pills of all colors scattered everywhere. At the back were a bathroom and a bedroom, perhaps in the same abandoned state. “What I have to offer? My sexy body, for example,” said Feliks laughing and pulling up a chair to his table. “You know what I’m talking about. So you're selling your body again, huh? Weren’t you supposed to look for a job?” Lovino commented, staring anxiously at the drugs lying there. “Oh, like, but of course, Lovi, I was trying to be an exemplary member of society and became a decent office worker, wearing a suit and everything… but hah… everything went to hell when they discovered me in the bathroom, being high on meth during work hours. Really, how was I supposed to know that intravenous drugs don’t count as a business lunch?” Feliks grinned cynically and stretched out his hand. Lovino gave him a few banknotes without saying a word. “I see. Means you're back to being a whore.” Feliks counted the money, laughing and looking for something on the table. “Stop that,” Antonio whispered, thinking that the blond guy would get offended, but the latter laughed again. “We’re all some kind of whores, my dear…” he said, handing Lovino a bag with pills of different colors and looking at Antonio. “You, for example, are going to be your superior’s whore once you start to work; forcing yourself to laugh over your boss’ stupid jokes is not that different from giving him a blow job. Wives are whores as well: they sleep with their husbands in exchange for a house and economic solvency. Can’t that be called prostitution? And there we also have people like Lovi who are, needless to say, whores of drugs. For my part, I’m just the sort of whore that isn’t socially accepted.” Lovino, in the meantime, took out two oxycodone pills and crushed them into fine powder. “What a harsh way to see things,” Antonio said, trying to not look uncomfortable. “I’d rather say realistic, my love,” Feliks replied, taking a spoon and a bag with something looking like powder made out of translucent crystals. He poured some on the spoon, grabbed one of the lighters and held the flame under it, while Lovino started to inhale his crushed pills. He was licking his upper lip. "You and your constant antisocial speeches," they heard a cheerful voice coming from the bedroom. Antonio and Lovino turned around, spotting a huge man of almost one meter ninety with blond hair and violet eyes. He was buttoning up his shirt with a childish smile. Now they understood where Feliks' bruises came from. "You shouldn't talk like that to such young guys," he added. There was a poorly hidden Russian accent in his voice. Lovino merely wiped his nose, while Antonio reflexively moved back when the intimidating smiling man approached Feliks, who was now filling a syringe with the liquefied crystal. "Ivan-baby, I've told you, like, a million times that I'm not antisocial at all," the latter said, giving the thin syringe a few taps and grabbing a strap from the floor which he tied around his arm, tightening it as much as he could. "Ivan-baby" took him by the hand and placed a black bag inside. It seemed to contain more drugs. Then he moved his fingers along Feliks' arm until reaching the strap, and bent down in order to whisper into his ear. "That's right, you're not... you just don't manage to fit into society nor anywhere else." He gave him a brief kiss on the ear and suddenly let go of him. Feliks seemed to twist his mouth in pain. Antonio and Lovino thought that this was because he just pricked his skin with the syringe's needle in order to inject the drug into his blood system. "Be careful to not consume too much, boys, I don't want to lose customers," said the tall man gently and waved them goodbye, leaving the apartment without as much as looking at Feliks. The latter sighed out in pleasure, threw his head back and tossed the syringe somewhere. A few seconds later, he was already high and started to laugh like an idiot, letting out more sighs. Lovino's drug would soon kick in as well. "Let's leave," the Italian commanded Antonio, who was watching how Feliks' green eyes lost their shine and started to stare at some spot in the room. The Spaniard obeyed, occasionally turning around to the now completely absent Feliks. Having left the apartment, he noticed that Lovino had started to stumble and was leaning his hand against the wall in order to be able to keep walking. That scene Antonio had just witnessed was, without a doubt, the most pitiful one he had seen in his entire life: the decadence of a person with a horribly gray world-view who, however, wasn't bothered to just roll with it. And then, there was Lovino, who was instead trying to escape that heart-wrenching, colorless universe with every means possible. Antonio was sure to have seen the naked reality, just as it should be: not decorated with neither prefabricated smiles nor a happiness built out of lectures from your upbringing. That was reality, that was life: cold, gray, merciless, hard, painful... And while Lovino was struggling to go downstairs, Antonio was following him and watching his back... the back of the most authentic person he had met during his entire existence on earth. He hurried to descend the last three steps that were still separating him from Lovino and shoved him suddenly against the wall, taking the other by surprise. Taking advantage of that, the Spaniard grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him, hearing a stifled scream coming from Lovino, who was trying to push him away. "What the hell?! Don't get the wrong idea!" the Italian protested, not having enough strength to free himself. Antonio approached him again, this time more gently, looking into his barely focused eyes. Lovino was seeing an intense green... an incredibly beautiful halo made of emerald light... that color coming from Antonio was beyond precious, and he succumbed to the beauty of his eyes. With his senses being numbed by the oxycodone, he managed to perceive Antonio's warm breath, contemplating his tanned skin and the coppery highlights of his hair in a state of pleasant drowsiness. But his eyes were something else... they were emanating such a wonderful color... the type of color that was bringing him back to life. Their noses touched, and Lovino could vaguely feel the Spaniard's fingers bury themselves into his shoulders and the hard wall against his back. And then Antonio's lips once more. Man, woman, person... Lovino didn't care anymore about all that as long as he could still see these emerald tones that gave that moment a meaning, that moment where his body felt light and everything went away. The black, gray, and white faded while Antonio was injecting him colors using his tongue and his lips. In the meantime, Antonio himself was hoping to dissect Lovino with the help of that kiss: he wanted to reveal everything the latter was hiding, to discover what was eating away at his insides, to see his pain and suffering, all these things that were making him so real... he wanted Lovino to become his proof of life... his reason to keep existing. He wanted to be saved by the very one who was drowning himself in destruction... what an interesting paradox. And with that kiss, with his first time savoring the taste of a poisoned skin, Antonio got to enjoy the first dose of the guy who would later become his personal drug and eventually his addiction.