Page 67 of All That Remains
A black boot was propped on the coffee table in a characteristic abandonment of good manners. He’d been singing McCartney’s “Maybe I'm Amazed.” It was a go-to for him when he was bored or showering. As I entered, he rose, shoving his phone into a back pocket. In a jarring flashback, I recalled he owned dozens of nudes of me from our time together; heaps ofterrifyingly intimate still and videos documenting the changes in my body from boyhood to manhood. Presented in all manner of posture and lewd exhibition. Seriously gay shit.
Not for a second did I fear him using them to humiliate me, even during the worst of our fights and separations. It was a relief to share that level of trust with someone for so long, and he remained the only person I would ever trust to that degree, despite our long-standing estrangement.
As I drew near, I noticed his cigarettes and lighter were on the table and he smelled like fresh smoke. He put them away as he faced me.
"Had a smoke?"
"Yeah...there may've been a smoke."
“Busted!”
There was something in his eye that told me he was marveling at how normal everything felt. Something that begged:What are we even doing?
"So, you're not dyin’ of some dreadful illness right? I didn’t walk into someTerms of Endearmenttype shit?"
"All good...I think...I hope," I joked, earning a laugh.
As I headed for the door, his hand moved absently to my waist, then to my hip. He wanted to hold it open for me. Wherever we were, whatever we were doing, he grabbed me like I belonged to him. I recalled that with a sudden wooziness.
Back at his house, we ordered Thai and pizza and chicken and pigged out in his dining room, just the two of us and Bob Marley crooning from the record player. “Time Will Tell” cast a spell over our feasting. Later he took me into the studio and let me listen to a few exclusive tracks that probably wouldn’t see the light of day. I was stumped by how versatile his tastes had become, and the way he innovated culturally distinct sounds to create something suited to his cadence.
Before long he called his mum and I got to speak with her about my family and what I had planned for the new year. She informed me I was overdue for a haircut, and that I was beginning to look like some degenerate from a 70s tribute band. I told her I was aiming more for a 93’ or 94’ Brad Pitt, to which she regrettably informed me I could never be Brad Pitt.
By the time we'd finished catching up, Rome had wandered off. I found him in the middle of the yard, standing beside a massive telescope. We tried to find planets and shooting stars to no avail. His obsession with space and aliens and astronomy had not diminished one bit. This of course led to a debate about whether humans had ever truly landed on the moon. He was still a skeptic.
Back inside, we weren’t sitting for long before someone came strutting down the hall. Neither of us had heard the front door open. She’d taken her shoes off at the mat, so her steps were soundless. Bright turquoise nail varnish was the first thing I spotted, highlighting her toenails. Her feet were long and thin like the rest of her. They would become the most vivid thing I remembered from meeting her that day. I would never forget how confident her feet looked.
Right away Rome got up to greet her. He went in for a hug, but she grabbed his face and planted a wet one on his lips. I cringed, averting my eyes. Her lipstick left a swatch across his lips, so he thumbed it away and waved a hand in my direction.
"Babe, you know, Rafe, right?TheeRalph Rawlings.”
“Mate, stop,” I chuckled, standing and extending a hand. She beamed and accepted it with an affected grace, cradling the bottom of our joined hands with her other. I was still wearing a mortified smile.
"We've met in passing a few times actually, through Quinn," she assured him. Then to me: "So awesome to see you again. And nice to meet youproperlythis time."
She sounded so Californian. Her voice had this quavering inflection, like she was always on the verge of tears. It was somewhat endearing, but now all I wondered was what she sounded like when she actually cried. Probably awful. For some reason, she struck me as an ugly crier. I could appreciate that, because most pretty girls were ugly criers. It was like the universe's way of compensating for how attractive they were.
"You've met before?" Rome asked, with a tinge of incredulity.
"Mm-hm, kinda..." she bobbed her head and the topknot teetered like a free-standing punching bag. Brightly blonde. "Once through Quinn...then, umm…again at the awards, right?"
"Right," I nodded. "It was after you’d already gone." From the band, that is.
“Ah,” Rome replied.
We all sat and talked about the strangeness of that year, and she mentioned she was grateful he’d ditched the band because otherwise they wouldn’t have met. She might’ve been joking, but I couldn’t quite tell. It unnerved me that he sat so far away in a recliner once she arrived. Now she sat on the arm of it, sun-kissed legs strewn across his lap.
“Dropping the album soon?” she asked. I glanced up, shocked to see she was speaking to me.
"Oh, uh, yes, actually. Sometime next year. It’s been a bit of an adjustment…working on solo stuff, if I’m honest."
“Only for a minute though, mate,” Rome reassured me. “Then you’ll fall in love with bringin’ your vision to life and not havin’ to worry about anyone else’s. You’ve always had great ideas, Rafe. Now they can breathe. I know it'll be amayzin’—"
"Like all of yours…" she gazed into his eyes, piping up before I could express my gratitude.
I nearly gagged when they kissed again. She had lifted his chin and brought his face to hers for an ever wetter one than before. I was starting to notice a trend, even in the short timesince she’d arrived. She was thedemandingsort. Either that, or Rome wasn't showering her with the level of affection she was accustomed to out of respect for his company. Regardless, I sensed a dominance in her that clashed with his.
Despite the traditional beauty, there was something decidedly masculine in her carriage, in her walk. An androgyny so inconsistent and elusive it was difficult to detect at all, unless you were like me and knew men and women equally well, inside and out. Right away I knew it was one of the traits he was attracted to most in her, and I couldn't blame him for it.
