Chapter Text
June 25, 2018
It seemed like maybe, maybe the fourth time was the charm. The Kid went back to work, nothing under his own name, he said that was too much pressure, made it too easy to let himself drown in his work. In fact, he almost quit, but Dino had convinced him to stay and he did, mentoring and supporting the new batch of designers who’d come in back when he took his leave.
“It’s good,” he’d said. "It's real good." I couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince or himself. Maybe both. “Somebody’ll notice right away if I don’t get up,” he’d said. He was out on his patio, with enough silences between his words that I could hear the crickets out in the grass. I didn’t say his brother would notice. His brother did notice, every time. It’s what had kept him going before.
Now, we talked each night. Well, night for him. And maybe I needed it, too. I fiddled with the ribbon on arrangement the Kid had sent for Jamie's birthday. Whether he visited or not, he sent them every year for her birthday. And her funeral. “So tell me about the new game, Kid.”
“It’s a shooter,” he sighed. “It’s beautiful, snow-covered… Snuck in a little shot of the woods out behind my old school." His lighter clicked and he sucked in a deep breath. "Doom, this is not, but…”
He got quiet again. The team had decided on the overall gameplay while he’d been at Hovedstaden. He never would've okayed guns in one of his games. All it did was make the whole fucking project a reminder of shit he’d rather forget. I listened to him smoke, waiting him for to continue. He didn't. “Are you still working on your other design?”
The insects answered for him. “Yeah,” he said after another slow exhale. "When I can."
After a while, the calls, the hachee warmed over in the microwave, all the stone cold hotties of Denmark couldn’t fill in all the cracks living alone had left him. “I just… I’m not gonna, I swear, Arizona, I’m just…”
My heart broke at the crack in his voice, this sweet kid. He’d fought so hard every day. And he woke up every morning, wading through those same slimy thoughts asking him if it was worth it.
Another night he’d put me on speaker, the phone resting somewhere near a drawer. I heard the clink of silverware, something sizzling in a pan. His voice echoed against the empty walls of his beautiful apartment. He had everything in Copenhagen, a dream job, money to take care of himself. His last boyfriend had even proposed. The Kid had everything he wanted. Everything but what he needed.
“I just…” He was hard to hear past his tears. “I miss you and Ro and… and Janus. I miss the shop, I miss the stupid Seattle traffic… I miss it all,” His words were choked and he sniffled like he had that day we’d met. “I wanna come home.”
“Then come home, Kid. Come home.”