Page 34 of All That Remains
I suppose no one could perceive the thoughts pervading my mind day in and day out. Ruminations that derailed every component of my existence. Neither could Rome. He was clueless as to how obsessed I’d become. He’d be repulsed to know: no matter how much time we’d stolen together—nomatter how continually we fucked, no matter the nights I’d spent in total surrender, letting him kiss me until I convulsed—it was never enough. I ached to carve his name into my flesh like stigmata. Big gruesome letters across my brow, so that no one ever mistook who commanded my being. Not Alex, but Rome. The beautiful, wroth-eyed boy. The moody aesthete. The silent one.
That stretch in late 2011, when the five of us gathered at my dad's bungalow to become better acquainted, stood out in my memory as unadulterated bliss. It was the verge of everything our lives were to become. Back then, many hadn’t suspected the full truth of my nature, despite it staring them right in the face and grinning. But Rome had taken note, because what he sensed in me seemed to resonate with some dolorous thing he’d quelled in himself.
During that retreat, our new team from the record label set us up with a week's worth of food and every snack imaginable. They invited a film crew to capture footage of us bonding and goofing off between interviews for our documentary. The footage was supposed to be candid and endearing, and it was. Everything about that week was uncontrived—from our on-camera antics to the evolving dynamics of the group to our fallouts and personal drama. We genuinely adored one another, and dreaded for those days to end.
12
September 2011
Muse's "Sing for Absolution" had been the soundtrack to my falling. I could still feel the lyrics as potently as when I listened every night before drifting asleep. In the days leading up to the week at the bungalow, Roman was just another mate. Funny, obstinate—intellectual. Hands down the smartest among us, which meant sometimes his humor was more sophisticated than ours. He was also misunderstood. Mostly I noticed how introverted he was. What it meant to be an introverted person had escaped me before I met him. I had been under the impression introverted people lacked personality. I quickly discovered I was wrong, and that they simply withheld a great deal of themselves until they were around those they trusted. It became my mission to always be that person for him.
Unlike the others, he would eventually need a moment alone to recharge. Sometimes he fell into pensive silences that made him seem twice his age. Only then did I realize how good he was atpretending. I knew he was quiet from our time at the academy, but seeing him switch on and off for us, emulating the mood of the moment wasfascinating.
Over time I learned he was not fond of being studied. Sometimes he would leave a room because I or the others would stare at him whenever he became moody. I could never tell what he was thinking from one minute to the next. He liked to put hisheadphones on and zone out a lot, and this angered me. I took it as a snub, assuming he felt superior to us, when in reality he just needed doses of solitude to feel balanced.
Then there were the things that made him seem exactly our age. Like his phobias and vulnerabilities, all of which reminded me he washuman. Right away we learned he didn't know how to swim, so we looked after him whenever we used the pool. Sometimes we tried to teach him, but he was always too paranoid to let us get close in the water. Ultimately, he kept to the shallow end and had his fun there.
"Really, mate?" Alex had marveled, after Rome first informed us he couldn’t swim. "Didn't they bloody teach you that in P.E.?!"
Offended, Rome insisted that they had, but he couldn't catch on.
"What about when you drink it?" Alex persisted.
"I'm not scared ofdrinkin’water..." Rome scoffed. "Just scared of like...loadsof water."
From that moment on, each time his fear of swimming came up, we vowed to help him overcome it. It was brought up again at the bungalow when we planned to use the pool the first day.
"Then we'll teach ya, mate, don't yous worry," Levi assured him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. "I know how it is, being the odd man out,believe me.I’m scared of heights…and sporks, as it were. No one understands us."
"Fanks, bro."
"RJ, mêt, you can just sit on me shoulders!Alright, butt? " Nathan laughed, turning red in the face. "I'm only saying! Jesus, even babies can swim, mêt!"
"Easyyy..." Levi cautioned, watching Nathan double over. "Steady on, mate, before you give yourself a heart attack!"
Later we sat around the fire on the patio and discussed everything from aliens to food to music to the first time we evermet. Nate started a farting experiment, trying to see if he could get one to explode over the fire. His laughter rang crazily into the night and was so contagious I was doubled over wheezing before I knew it. Rome snickered behind his sleeve. Levi moved his chair from downwind.
"Sometimes I can't believe our luck, yeah?" Rome piped up when we grew silent. There was nothing but the tranquil sound of the wind and the crackling of the fire, and now his soft, strange accent.
"Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I’d slept in y'know?"
"Off to uni, mate," Alex chuckled. "Simple as that."
"Yeah, I suppose. But afterwards, y'know? What would my life look like?"
"Didn't you say you liked English?" I asked. "Couldn't you have done something with that?"
"Yeah, probably…"
"But youdidn'tsleep in, lad, and that's what matters!" Alex concluded, trying to set a twig on fire. Levi got up and stoked the fire with a metal grill fork.
"The!Next! Big! Thing!" Nathan yelled, mimicking our vocal coach from the academy after he found out we’d stuck together. "Haha you 'member that?!"
"Mate, how can anyone forget?" I replied. “We heard it every week.”
"You 'member dem weird haircuts we had?" he continued, running his hand over his limp blonde hair. "Whose was the worst?"
Everybody piped up, arguing and debating, and finally we settled on Levi.
