Work Text:
And If I told you how this story ends
W ould you change a step you take
And if I could relive all of my days
I'd live them all the same
'Cause I'm scared
O f all that I don't know
Circles - EDEN
Marco Bott was woken up by the ringing of his phone at 5:54 precisely. Since he felt unable to move, he hadn't put down his phone. He was shaking because of the tears that were streaming down his face. He had received a call from Death-Cast to tell him he was going to die today. Having the opportunity to know the day of his death from a company that can find out for you does not ease the stress and makes one feel lucky.
He was still sleeping when he received the call, believing that it was just his friend who called him from the end of one of his parties so he had picked up without looking. He regretted it now. But could ignoring it have changed anything? Probably not.
He was a young adult that was going to graduate in two months and try to have a shot at the career of his dreams. Until now he had not expected that life would end earlier. He couldn't leave them, he couldn't leave his parents, his sisters, his friends. But he knew that his fate was irreversible and his life was going to end today without knowing how and when. That's the only thing Death-Cast could be useful for but could not tell.
What was he supposed to do now? Tell his parents? Make a bucket list of things to do before you die? What if he died during one of those things? Should he even go outside?
He got up from his bed, trying to not make a noise in the hallway and locked himself in the bathroom. He looked at himself for a moment in the mirror, his skin was pale and he had dark circles under his red eyes. How long had he been crying? Then reality hit him hard. How long has it been since that call? How much time of the remnants of his life has he already lost?
He felt cold sweats running down his back. He clung to the edge of the sink, he was going to die today. He could not catch his breath under the impression his chest was being crushed and a violent headache erupted making him lose his balance. He slid to the ground resting his head on the cold tiled floor.
Marco needed to find a way to feel alive. He had his last day to live. He wondered if all the other Deckers, those who also were expected to die today, had a similar reaction. Probably. Probably not.
He recoperated his breath, the headache was gone and now he felt cold. He gathered all his strength in his arms and legs to get up. Next he splashed water on his face and met his reflection in the mirror. He was going to die today, and he was done with the idea of it. But he also had to live this day, he had to feel alive.
He wiped his face dry and opened the door, getting ready to go out to his bed.
-Huh?
-Huh?
He might have been slowly getting used to the idea of dying today, but not to meeting someone in his family now, especially his father.
-What are you doing up at this hour?
-I went to the bathroom. What time is it?
-6:40.
Time was already passing too quickly.
- Thank you, have a nice day dad.
What Laurent Bott found strange was that he hadn't heard the toilet flush and that his son looked rather poorly. Laurent Bott hasn't received a call from Death-Cast, he still has his day to live. Just like every Friday, and every day of the week Laurent Bott gets up at dawn to go to his work in the construction sites, and today he hopes for no rain.
He ended up sitting in his bed for nearly an hour, in complete darkness with the only light being his computer screen. In an attempt to reassure himself, he went to the Decounters blog, reading the last moments and the last words of other Deckers. He continued exploring the site reading each new post. Maybe he should wear something exceptional today. But what? Marco Bott had done nothing and had nothing to say. He stopped at a photo from an anonymous user showing a captured moment between three people with a simple caption, "To Farlan and Isabella." This one simple photo gave him chills, this person had just lost two close friends, two in just one day.
And who would pay a tribute to him? He looked at his phone that lay on his bed. He had lost many of his high school friends when he started college, then lately between exams and his job he hadn't spoken with many of them. No one had reached out to him either. He had made some acquaintances in his class, and at his work in the small convenience store, with someone he had already known since middle school.
In fact, he was much more focused on his studies than on his social ties. Being a part of a large family every expense counted and he didn't want his parents to feel like the money they provided for his studies disappeared into thin air. In the midst of hard studying and having his part-time job to help, he had lost all social ties getting lost in a cycle of work and study.
He remembered this application which he had already heard about on a post on this forum, The Last Friend. Maybe he could give it a try, since for now he was safe. He grabbed his phone and downloaded the app. Once it was ready with an uncertain gesture he opened it. The first thing he saw on his screen was two very particular choices.
▢ Will die today
▢ Will not die today
It's true, he was going to die today, as if he could forget. A message popped up on his screen after his choice was saved.
The entire team of The Last Friend Inc. is sorry to lose you. We send our deepest condolences to those who love and to those who will never meet you. We hope you find a new and valuable friend to accompany you in your final hours today. For best results, please complete the form below.
With our most sincere regrets,
The Last Friend Inc.
A long form appeared before his eyes asking him for a lot of information. He had never registered on a dating site before.
Name: Marco Bott
Age: 21 years old
Gender: Male
Height: 183cm
Weight: < ignore >
Ethnicity: < ignore >
Sexual orientation: Gay as fuck
Work: Student and part-time job at a convenience store
Interests: I like to draw flowers in the corner of my notebooks and write poems with no real meaning.
Favorite movies/series/books: Dead Poets Society; Merlin; Radio Silence by Alice Oseman
The person you were in life: A big brother, a student, a human.. I would have liked to learn how to draw, play the violin and continue to play the piano. My parents have money issues because of our large family. I have 4 little sisters, and that's a lot, but I love them more than anything. The oldest is going to her second year in high school and the last is in primary school. I would have liked to be there. I would have preferred to stay to spare her the weight of the family’s burden and all the responsibilities of the elder.
To-do list before I die: Work, then write a will to give my money to my parents, they will need it more than me now. I don't want to meet my family today, I would like to avoid their sad looks, I want them to live this day like any other.
Final Thoughts: “O captain! My captain!”
He pressed publish before he could regret his choice, then the application asked him for a photo, he closed the application and went to look through his second oldest sister's Instagram profile, she always took pictures of everything. He didn't have to search long before he found a picture of him and her at Christmas wearing a silly hat and an ugly sweater. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered that moment. He took a screenshot of the photo before choosing it as his profile picutre. Once the profile was online, a final message appeared:
Take care, Marco.
He received a message almost instantly while he was still discovering the application. He opened the mailbox to find three new ones.
Subject: research sex plan, what do you say?
Rose. 19 years old. Female gender
Decker? No.
Subject: My condolences, Marco (great name)
Philly Buiser. 24 years old. Male gender
Decker? No.
Subject: Are you selling a sofa? undamaged?
J. Mark. 26 years old. Male gender
Decker? No.
He decided to delete the parasitic messages such as the ones looking for an evening plan, knowing that he was gay, and the one who wanted to buy a sofa from him. He reluctantly decided to open the message from Philly.
Philly B.: Hi, Marco. How's it going?
Marco B.: Hi Philly. Not the best. :/
Philly B.: Yeah, I'm sure it's tough. I can't wait for Death-Cast to call me. Are you sick, or something like that? You seem too young to die.
Marco B.: No, no illness to report, I am in very good health. I think it's worse because I have no idea how it's going to happen to me. Neither when nor how. It terrifies me.
Philly B.: I can help you, Marco.
Marco B.: How so?
Philly B.: I can do whatever it takes to keep you from dying.
Marco B.: I don't believe it, it's impossible.
Philly B.: I do. You seem like a cool guy, who doesn't deserve to die so soon. You should come to my house. This will have to stay between us, but I have the cure for death in my pants.
Blocked
He tried to collect himself after this disconcerting conversation. For a moment, he thought it might have been the serial killer from Decker but it happened a while ago, and the killer was caught recently. On the other hand, now anyone could do that, especially a crazy guy like that.
He saw a new notification in his messages.
Subject: O Captain! My captain! great ref!
Marcel Galliard. 21 years old. Male gender
Decker? Yes.
He was going to refuse, but this time this person had a real talking point, plus he was also a Decker.
Marcel G.: Hi Marco! Great ref, I love this movie! It sucks to die now. I heard that one of the actors went to play in the next Marvel series, I would have liked to see that! :')
Marco B.: Hi Marcel! Oh yes? I didn't know!
Marcel G.: In MoonKnight!
Marco B.: What a shame indeed! :')
Marcel G.: I'm sorry to ask you that, don't worry I'm not that weird guy who says he has the solution in his pants, but I'm looking for my brother. I'm not asking you to help me, I just want to know if you saw him.
Marco B.: Of course!
He received a photo of a young man with brown hair and dark eyes. He couldn't help comparing it with Marcel's, apart from the shape of the face, they didn’t look much alike.
Marco B.: I don't think I have seen him, but I can always keep you posted!
Marcel G.: Thank you, that's nice! :)
Marco B.: Do you want to talk about it? It looks quite complicated. Well, if you don't want to, I'm not forcing you. Just know that I'll take your secret to my grave. ;)
Marcel G.: That one isn't bad! Well if you have your time to waste, I would like to. I never talked about it that much and you're the first person to ask me.
Marco B.: I don't know what to tell you, I hope you find him! I will keep an eye open.
Marcel G.: Thank you very much Marco! ;) I saw you have sisters too?
Marco B.: Yes, I understand your situation of wanting to protect your little brother, I would do the same if one of them got into trouble like that.
Marcel G.: What are you planning to do? Are you really going to work?
Marco B.: I think so, that way I can still earn some money for them. I know it's absurd, but I don't feel like spending my day with them. I love them very much, I think I would cry and I don't want to worry them.
Marcel G.: It's normal, don't worry. Maybe you could write a letter to each of them? To explain your choice?. ;)
Marco B.: Thank you, I'm thinking of doing that! :) How about you?
Marcel G.: I’m with my girlfriend, we're going to go for a walk in the streets, in the hope of finding him. I have to go. You're a good guy, I hope you have a good day anyway!
Marco B.: You too! Good luck in finding him!
Marcel G.: Marco, don't hesitate to do something crazy today! ;)
Marco B.: Yeah! ;)
To tell the truth, he didn't understand the last sentence. All he could do today was go to work. Speaking of which, he glanced at the clock, almost an hour had passed. Time was passing very, very quickly.
If I let go, would you hold on?
Would we fly?
Is it safer if we just say that we tried?
Are we laughing at the danger?
Are we dancing after death, you and I?
Dancing After
Death - Matt Maeson
Now this was his new plan: he was going to work and on lunch break he would write his letters to his family. This was his only plan. He came out of the changing room and took a deep breath before joining his colleague who was already at the counter looking at his phone.
-You came early today. Weren’t you supposed to start in an hour?
-I decided to come earlier. Is there something to do?
He laughed while watching a video on Tik Tok that his friend had just sent him. But Marco didn't have time for that.
-Jean?
There he is, that amber gaze he knew, the famous colleague, Jean Kirstein. He had known Jean since middle school, and Jean hadn't recognized him on his first day in that convenience store, and even today, he didn't think he had recognized him.
Jean straightened up and put his phone in his back pocket before looking towards the door leading to the inventory.
-Yeah, yesterday the boss told me to register the stocks for today.
They got down to work very quickly, faster than Marco would have expected. Maybe there was still a little too much left over from his college prejudices, Jean had changed a lot, he had matured a lot since then. But sometimes he still recognized the boy who was eager to tease someone into anger or try to attract a particular someone’s gaze.
Jean passed him the items while he recorded the barcode before putting it in the trolley. Luckily there were no customers this early in the morning. Once the task was done, Marco took care of arranging the shelves while Jean remained at the counter to welcome the first customer of the day.
While continuing to arrange the shelves, he observed Jean at the counter with the customer. She was a little local granny who always came to get her groceries here, like her bread or orange juice. He watched him display that big smile when he handed her her bread, he came out with a famous charming sentence to which the old lady laughed and wished him a good day. This is Jean Kirstein, and he just felt nostalgic for his teenage years.
Meeting his gaze, Jean gave her a nod. Just nostalgia. And Marco smiled back before returning his attention back to his work.
After finishing and putting away the cart back, he came back to settle at the counter, it was already 10:12. Jean was still on his phone being a little addicted to it, and most of the time he would show Marco various posts that made him laugh.
To keep his mind occupied, Marco opened the cash register and began to rearrange the notes correctly. It didn't occupy him for long since he was cut off by Jean who abruptly placed his hand on his right wrist, the sudden and warm contact of his hand gave him a shiver that tore him away from his thoughts.
-Wait... Marco you?
Jean pushed his phone under Marco's nose. He had just found his profile on The Last Friend. It took him a few minutes to associate the information, Jean Kirstein, his ex-classmate and work colleague who hadn't recognized him, had just found his profile by chance on The Last Friend. And it had to fall on Jean. All he could do was to smile slightly while avoiding the worried gaze of this boy.
-Yeah, that's my big news of the day. We will no longer be colleagues.
-What the hell are you doing here?
Marco couldn't tell if he was worried or angry, but he seemed even more lost than him when he heard the news. And anyway, he couldn't do anything about it, nobody could do anything about it. He just had to accept his fate now.
-I have nothing to do anyway.
-Marco! It's your last fucking day! You shouldn't be recording stuff and putting it on the shelves!
-Jean, I'm good here.
He was with Jean, so for the moment everything was fine.
-Stop being stupid. It's your last day...you should spend it with your family.
He closed the crate and tried to restrain his urge to raise his voice. Jean had nothing to do with it, he just wanted to help him. But he couldn't, he couldn't think straight since that call. From every moment of his discussion with Marcel, he was thinking and rethinking every word he wanted to write.
-No, I do not feel like it. I don't think I could bear it.
It was true, and he could only tell him the truth for him to understand. He shot a quick glance towards Jean who was looking very attentively at his phone on which his profile was still displayed on the application. The moment of silence dragged on, Marco had to get used to the idea, Jean too, and for now, he was the only one who knew his situation.
He was going to tell him that it didn't matter, to not to worry, that it was what it was and that there was nothing he could do about it, but Jean looked up and fixed his eyes on him.
-I’ll stay with you.
-What?
He didn't have time to reply, he didn't really have time to answer but Jean had already gone behind him untying the knot of his apron and already pulling off his own.
-Take off your apron, we're leaving now, you and me.
-Jean...
-You don't want to spend it with your family, I understand. Then live it with me!
Jean had grabbed him by the shoulders and brought him closer, he seemed upset. His complexion had become very pale and he looked like he was about to cry. Marco felt guilty for acting so coldly with him, to keep himself from crying. Because if he really had to express how he felt, he wouldn’t be able to stop crying, he lost everything, everything he had, and everything he could ever have.
"Then live it with me!"
His voice still echoed in his ears, like a glow in the dark night, he seemed to really care about this. He felt a hot flash spread through his body, the same, it was always the same, it hadn't changed. Jean was a good person. He was going to do it, he was going to spend his day with him. Because after all his thoughts, it was the only one to give him hope. But he had to promise himself one thing, Jean was not to see him die. He placed his hands on his shaking arms in order to calm him a little.
-Okay, that's okay.
To Marco, Jean seemed to wake up. As if he had suddenly been caught in a bubble of anxiety. He blinked several times while looking at him before quickly pulling back and looking away. He rejected all bad thoughts, no, Jean would not regret it, he was sure of it.
-Go get your things, I'll leave a note for the boss.
He didn't have the heart to contradict him, yes, he wanted to live this last day with Jean Kirstein. Marcel had advised him to do something crazy, so he was going to do it. He shouldn't regret anything. Should he?
-What do we do?
Jean had just closed the convenience store and put the keys in his jeans pocket before taking out his phone. Marco noticed that he cleared his last notifications without looking at them before opening Google.
-There is some kind of museum or attraction for the Deckers, but it costs a fortune and it must surely have a lot of people attending.
-Yeah...
- Give me time to think.
-Actually, I have to do something first. Do you mind going to the library with me?
-No, it's cool. Let's walk? Or should we take the bus? It may not be the best level of security, we could perhaps...
Jean was even more nervous than him, he didn't want him to be, that's what he would have liked to avoid. He put a hand on his shoulder, the memory of this contact with Jean reminded him that he was still alive.
-Jean.
Jean had this dreadful expression which pained him. He was even more nervous than he thought, and if he continued on like this, he was the one who was going to die from his tension, not Marco. He gave him a small smile in an attempt to comfort him.
-We can walk there.
And from Jean's point of view, it was one of the things he knew best.
-Okay, yeah.
The conversation consisted of nothing, they weren't talking. Marco still felt that Jean was nervous and seemed to be searching for something on his phone. And as for Jean he was indeed nervous, very nervous, he wanted to help, but he had trouble coming up with an idea.
The more they advanced in the direction of the municipal library, the more Marco began to recognize the place. He remembered that little newspaper shop with its green front, and that balcony painted yellow, and the window full of plants of all kinds. They were approaching their old middle school. Not living far away, Marco always came here for a walk and sometimes he still ventured there when he had to pick up his sister.
Once at the front entrance, he couldn't help stopping close to the building. He had a lot of memories there, good and bad, he remembered his time of questioning himself, he also remembered when his coming out had become the biggest news of the year. Not everything has always been good.
No longer feeling his presence by his side, Jean directed his attention out of his research feeling even more nervous. Marco was no longer next to him, neither to the right nor to the left. He looked ahead, if he had ever followed him, there was no sign of him. He turned around, and to his relief, he found him planted in front of the old green gate of their college. He put his phone away and joined him with a quick step, he didn't want to leave him alone.
-Nostalgic?
-A little yes.
-It's true that it was a good time. Well, for some of us.
-You remember then?
-Sure! Do you remember that time Reiner called you a “fag” after he knocked you out? Apparently now he has changed his mind. Did you know that now he is in a relationship with Bertolt? Seriously, it’s hysterical!
-Are we talking about the Reiner Braun? The one who had a crush on Historia?
-Yup.
-And Bertolt Hoover who had a childhood crush on Annie?
-Yeah...
-Wow.
-I know yeah, I had the same reaction when I found out.
They shared a laugh, it's true that everyone seemed to have changed a lot. Especially Reiner. But Jean remembered this college, Reiner and Bertolt, Historia and Annie, and that day when he had fought with Reiner after he had insulted Marco about his sexuality. Jean remembered everything.
-But you remember me?
-Sure. I recognized you the first time I arrived at the convenience store.
It took Marco a while to register the information, so Jean remembered everything, and especially him. He remembered him, and all along he thought he'd forgotten him. This was embarrassing, very embarrassing. He remembered everything he had thought of him from the beginning, and the hope he had for him to remember him too. He was stupid, really stupid, but he laughed about it, because as his father said "it’s better to laugh than to cry".
His laugh surprised Jean at first, even if Marco tried to contain it. He didn't understand. Did he say something wrong? Funny? Or stupid?
But Marco was laughing, and in an instant they both forgot about the heavy cloud hovering over them. And Jean showed a wide smile that gave him color.
-Was it something I said?
-Nothing, I thought you had forgotten me.
Marco took a deep breath to finally resume normal breathing and his eyes crashed into those of Jean who were staring at him.
-I will never forget you.
Jean was someone who really confused Marco, even to this day, and even more now. Jean was someone whom he loved as much as he feared. He was not afraid of Jean himself, he was afraid of the nostalgia that was coming back to him more and more.
Jean Kirstein had eyes as powerful as amber. This was a feeling he had thought he had buried long ago. A feeling he thought he had managed to control over time, but nothing had changed, Marco Bott had absolutely not changed. He was still in love with Jean.
-The library.
Changing the subject and the trajectory of his gaze was his best way out.
-The library!
For the rest of the walk, Marco did not say a word, even Jean noticed his discreet breathing. He seemed more than lost in thought, and he had a lot to think about. Unfortunately Jean did not have access to it. Immediately intrusive thoughts invaded his head. Thinking that maybe he had done something wrong, that he shouldn't have reminded him of that day, that he should have just shut up, maybe there was still something bothering him from that day, that maybe he was not the one he wanted to see.
-Jean? Are you alright?
-Yeah, I’m fine!
-We’re here.
Marco motioned to follow him to an empty table in the back. Jean followed him looking around the place. He had been here with his aunt once when he was younger, but he had not set his foot there since. Coming back here, especially with Marco, gave him a strange feeling.
He watched Marco taking a notebook and a pen out of his jacket, he seemed anxious looking at the blank page. He could not imagine writing a letter to his relatives if he were to die. He noticed Marco's right hand shaking, and listening to the little voice in his head, he put his hand over his to calm him down, which eventually stopped the shaking and drew his gaze to him.
-Take your time, I'll take a walk and give you some time alone.
Marco nodded gently and thanked him. His touch was comforting and the palm of his hand was warm. Jean gave him a slight smile that gave him the strange feeling that was familiar to him every time he came to smile at him and walked away after whispering an "ok" to him. He watched him walk away, Jean watched him too, he almost bumped into a table and they had to try not to laugh, then he finally disappeared behind a manga shelf.
Suddenly alone, he looked again at the blank page in front of him. He wasn't afraid of it anymore, he just had to write everything he wanted to tell them, everything he wanted to convey to them, and how much he loved them all, and to live even if he won't be there with them anymore. He wrote separate letters to each of them, even though he knew that Eloise, his youngest little sister, would not be able to understand it today. He gave up all the best hide-and-seek spots to Sophie, the penultimate one who hated losing at hide-and-seek. He encouraged Lucie to continue drawing, and to never give up on her passion, but if the path seemed too difficult, he knew she would get there. He was sorry he had to write this, but he wanted to give advice as the eldest of the family to Victoria because now she was going to carry the heavy weight. He wanted her to know that she shouldn't keep it all to herself and the best way to go was to find a way to externalize all of this.
Then he started the one addressed to his parents, this one was more difficult. In his letters to his sisters, he didn't really say goodbye to them. But here he had to explain the situation to his parents. As help to his distress, Jean arrived in a hurry and sat down next to Marco with a comic book in hand.
-Tell me you were reading that too!
Jean put the comic on the table, trying to make as little noise as possible and to whisper, even if it was difficult for him. Marco thought it was cute to be honest. Then he leaned over the comic, he immediately recognized the white background of the cover followed by an illustration of a main character with the inscription "Alones". He had spent all his time in this library reading and rereading each volume of this comic.
-Yeah, I liked it a lot. Have you read it?
-Yes! I haven’t told anybody in college! Who was your favorite character?
-I really liked the brunette with the glasses, and the red-haired girl! And you?
-Oh wow! I loved the girl so much, Leila I think.
-I see!
-And the guy there who didn't talk and who attacked everyone at the beginning, he reminded me of Eren.
-Really?
-Yeah! He got angry super fast, just like Jaeger!
-You never miss out on making fun of him, even after all this time!
-One of my joys in life! Are you almost done?
-Almost.
-Okay cool. I'll put that away, I'll wait for you outside.
-Yeah.
He shouldn't worry, his parents shouldn’t either. Today was going to be his best day of his life, he made sure they knew.
He left the library still upset with what he had to do, he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. That part was over, now he didn't have to worry about it anymore, everything would be fine for them now. He decided to give all his attention to Jean, who on the contrary gave him none. He seemed immersed in his phone and his thoughts busy with intense search.
-So, have you thought of an idea?
Jean looked up at Marco, he hadn't heard him come out, but he immediately noticed the more serene expression on his face. He peeled himself away from the wall he was leaning against and turned completely towards the brunet.
-Yeah, we're going to the station!
-The train station?
-Yeah, I'm sure you'll like it. But we have to hurry, the next train leaves in 20 minutes. We have some time to catch a bus, so the trip will be calm!
It was more of a race against time than a calm ride. The bus had a little delay because of traffic jams. And once they arrived in front of the station Jean looked at Marco with a very unsure expression.
-Do you have asthma?
-No why?
-Good, because we have 3 minutes left!
Marco didn't have time to comment because Jean had already grabbed his hand and started running towards the entrance. Normally that would not be so serious and they could just take the train at a later time but Jean felt the time pass and in reality they did not have that time. They had to take this one. Marco felt Jean's hand tighten around his.
Jean jumped into the carriage and pulled Marco, who was exhausted, to get him up before the doors closed. He barely got inside and fell into Jean's arms laughing, both of them very exhausted after this race.
Marco caught him looking at him very attentively, it was as if he wasn't afraid either. Jean was no longer afraid, he had nothing to be afraid of. He took his hand, the same one he had held during their run, and led him to take a seat.
-Are you okay?
-Better now since we’re not running anymore. And you?
- It's okay, I caught my breath.
Marco quickly looked out the window, the landscape scrolling before his eyes, they were moving away from the center of the city, letting the tall buildings turn into the suburbs.
-Where are you taking me?
-It's a surprise!
He looked at Jean smiling proudly and mischievously, and Marco in turn couldn't help but smile back at Jean. It was always easier to smile when Jean was around.
- How long will it take us to travel there?
-Something like, 45 minutes, maybe 50. But don't try to guess! I need you to be surprised!
-Okay...but do you know this place at least?
-Yes! I loved going there when I was little.
-Interesting...
Jean pinched him in the stomach which surprised Marco who let out an unexpected laugh.That resulted in Jean’s brain malfunctioning for one moment with one thought lingering that he wanted to hear it again. So he pinched him again less hard, then a second time as Marco tried to escape his grip and waved his hands in front of him.
-Marco, don't try to guess!
-I'm not trying! I promise!
He stopped to let Marco catch his breath, he wanted to hear it one more time. From Marco’s point of view, Marco was not only trying to catch his breath, but also trying to calm his heart rate which was not due to his shortness of breath, but to Jean. He had to calm down, he had to contain this feeling that kept coming back since the beginning of this day. It was silly. After being sure that his cheeks were no longer flushed, he turned his attention back to Jean. It was suddenly very quiet and Jean was fiddling with his fingers with a strange look.
-By the way, I don't even know what you're up to. Am I talking about studies?
He had said the first thing that came to his mind, he was trying to fill the void and the silence, because now he hated this feeling.
-I have just finished my art portfolio and now I am going to try getting into a good school.
-Oh wow, I should have known.
-Why?
-You drew all the time, you had the best grades in arts in middle school and high school. You always went to the art room between classes and during the lunch break. You sat at an easel and painted, most often it was landscapes, like a stormy sea.
It was then that Jean understood that Marco had always been there, somewhere, hidden in his life and now he was finally learning more about him and himself. He looked at Marco's hand resting on his leg, it was shaking, and he felt a great desire to take it in his and reassure him.
-Wow You've always been there.
-I was watching you from afar.
With a shy gesture Jean slipped his hand into Marco's and pressed it against the palm of his hand. For both of them, this gesture was exactly what they needed.
-The sea under the storm was the one I liked the least.
-It's the one I liked the most.
They shared a laugh, the coincidence was unlikely. He always remembered those times, Marco used to watch him paint when he passed by the art room and he used to pass there often. It was one of his good memories. Jean was different not only today but when he immersed himself in one of his works, he just seemed more peaceful.
-My sister, Lucie, also likes to draw. She learned a lot to get where she is today. She is only in middle school and already thinking about graduate schools. In fact, she is already thinking of making her passion into something more and making a living out of it. While she really loves it and she would love to draw comics or illustrate books in future… It’s sad she is already thinking about the money, when it is not for her to think about...
-Why couldn't she continue?
-I have four sisters, my parents don't have enough money.
-Ooh...I see. Wait four? Are you the only boy?
-Yeah, and the eldest. Tori is in the second year of high school. She really doesn't like going there and she always says that all of them are fake.
-She's not wrong.
-She plays a little dark emo, but deep down she is very nice. She has two friends who are dear to her, and I hope they will always be with her, at all times, good and difficult. She will need them.
Jean couldn't think of anything to say, he felt all the love Marco could have for his sisters and all the pain he had. He shook his hand and gave a smile that was intended to be comforting.
But deep down, despite the fact that he was used to the idea, the fact of not seeing his sisters grow up made him feel terribly bad. He will never be able to help Lucie, Sophie or Eloise to revise for their exams. Will never be there to help Tori with her baccalaureate thesis or enroll in college. He will no longer be there to listen to them talk to him, tell him about their slightest little problems, whether simple, friendly or even in love. He could never know all that, he would never know. He was going to die today without being able to change anything about it.
-Jean...
-Yeah? Marco!
Marco was crying and Jean panicked. He didn't know where his sudden tears came from. Did he say something wrong? Did he have something wrong? Did Marco hate him for some reason and today it was hard to stay with him? Or he was in pain somewhere. Or he had motion sickness and taking the train was the worst idea he had today.
-I don't want to die.
It was very simple actually, and the reality hit Jean. He had forgotten. For the moment of a few minutes he had forgotten the terrible fate that awaited him, for a moment he hoped that Marco was there with him tomorrow, that he was there with him forever.
-I don't want to die, Jean.
He didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to react. He wanted to cry, Marco didn't stop and the tears quickly covered his sweet smiling face in a few minutes. Jean squeezed his hand, it was still warm, he was still alive, so he didn't want him to worry about death, not now.
-Marco I...
-I want to see my little sisters grow up. I will never see them become adults, be there to listen to them during their problems, I will never be able to give them advice, see them fulfilled in their life, in their studies, in everything they want to do...
He understood now, he was not worried about his death, but about the repercussions on his sisters. He had to try to reassure him, to reassure himself too, otherwise he might break down and cry with him.
-Marco...
-They will remember me as the dead big brother who was burned and then thrown into the air or buried six feet underground. I don't want another life without them.
Jean couldn't listen to him, he's more than that. More than he could imagine, today like tomorrow, he will never be seen that way, he forbade anyone to think like that.
-Marco! They won't remember you as just the dead brother! You are their big brother, you may not realize it, but you had a big impact in their lives. Besides, Tori and your parents...I'll be here for them. Remind them and let them never forget what person you are.
-Jean...take the letters, please.
-Okay, okay I'll give it to them. I promise you.
He forced his hands away from his and grabbed the letters. He looked at Marco, he couldn't stop crying and tried to wipe his tears away with his hands. Seeing him like this broke his heart. He put his arms around him to give him a hug that was meant to be comforting, he wanted to feel close to him, and Marco in turn put his arms around his back and rested his forehead against his shoulder.
-Now calm down, you'll be fine.
And now that he couldn't see him anymore, Jean allowed himself to let his tears flow while Marco held Jean closer to him. They needed each other.
Marco hadn't realized it, but he had been crying for quite a while and when they finally arrived at the station he had fallen asleep on Jean's shoulder. It was Jean who had woken him gently so as not to rush him. Still sleepy and his eyes reddened, Jean grabbed his hand to lead him out of the train.
The sun attacked his eyes even more and he had to close them as soon as possible. He grumbled, which made Jean laugh, putting a hand above his eyebrows to shade him a little.
-Would you like to tell me where we are now?
-Not yet! Are you hungry? It is past noon. Well… almost 2 p.m.
-A little yes.
-I know the best french fry stand! Come!
Jean led him out of the station holding his hand. He didn't want to pull away, he wanted to keep his hand in his. His touch gave him pressure in his belly that went up to the level of his heart. He felt like he was more than alive with him.
They arrived in the center of town, and he had no idea where he was. Jean stretched his mouth into a proud smile while seeing him look around. Marco looked at Jean looking even more lost than before. All he saw were colorful houses with flowers in the windows, as well as a few tourist shops, with postcards, bags of lavender, bracelets, clothes or even some kind of chimes.
-So, any idea?
-Not the slightest.
-Perfect! Let me just...
Jean put his hand over Marco's eyes and started to walk again, this time more slowly. Marco laughed when he heard Jean curse under his breath after almost falling even though he was still able to see. But he never let go of his hand. Finally he stopped and withdrew his hand from the front of the brunette's eyes telling him that he could open them now, and Marco saw the sea on the horizon.
-Wow...!
While Marco focused on the view ahead of him, Jean admired him his smile widening. He tightened his hand on his, he had the same feeling as the first day when he had seen him in this convenience store, exactly the same as the last day in high school. Nostalgia was taking over him.
-Come on, the fries merchant is somewhere around here!
They settled on a bench, just in front of the sand to be able to view the sea. Jean told him about the small town going into details about every little thing. He said he always came here for the holidays and that his parents had a second house here, but he hadn't come with them for a long time. Sometimes on weekends he came by himself to walk by the edge of the beach. Marco couldn't help laughing when he told him about the time he had fallen overboard during a boat trip because he thought he had seen a mermaid. Even though Marco was laughing and making fun of him, Jean appreciated the moment.
Once their tray of fries was finished, Jean asked Marco to follow him, because he had a special place to show him and seemed very enthusiastic about the idea.
-I know the area well, if we pass through there it will take us to a little path into the woods. Don't worry, it's not very long and we will arrive at the cliff shortly. It's not very high either. In fact it is an observation point towards the island on the other side. There is a legend that this island is a shell of a giant turtle. Locals say it takes a lot of patience to see it move. And the rest of the way brings us to the beach. Would you like to go?
-It sounds amazing. I want to see this turtle!
-Then let's go!
They started their way in the small forest following the path made of sand and gravel, and unlike Jean, Marco did not have the same energy to climb the slope and he found himself behind forcing Jean to stop and wait for him. Jean told him a few of the local legends, the origin of the story about the turtle, or the time when he had gone to the wall at 11 to go watch the turtle all night. Marco quickly got lost in his thoughts which were becoming more and more intrusive. He still wondered why Jean wanted to spend this day with him. Was it just pity? He knew Jean wasn't like that, it couldn’t be just pity, there was something else that made Jean take him to his favorite place. Something that made him hold his hand most of the time, and now he was curious.
They finally arrived at the top to the relief of Marco’s legs who had been tired of slipping on the sand since the beginning of the slope. Jean held out his hand, which he caught, to help him pull himself up. He laughed as Marco brushed the dust off his pants.
- We will have to work on your endurance!
-It's just not my cup of tea!
Jean laughed even harder and Marco smiled, Jean's laughter brought him comfort. Then he approached the safety barrier of the cliff to look away. Jean joined him and put a hand on his shoulder.
-Believe me, after all these years of practicing my patience, I never saw it move.
-Maybe you should just believe it, and not go on from the fact that it's just a story?
Jean simply chuckled before looking at the island in the distance. He had never shown this place to anyone or taken anybody here, Marco was the first. Then he turned his attention back to Marco who was focused on the island, even if he wanted to believe it, it just wouldn't move. He didn't move his eyes from Marco, as if he wanted to imprint his face in his memory. His brown hair fell lightly over his forehead, the light reflecting in his brown eyes and illuminating his numerous freckles that looked like gold on his face.
-Look! I'm sure it just moved!
Under the panic of meeting his eyes too quickly, he swiftly turned his gaze towards the turtle, acting as if he said nothing. The truth was that Marco had felt his gaze on him very well from the start but his reaction amused him.
-No, it didn't move.
Marco put his hands on Jean's face forcing him to look at the turtle more intently.
-Open your eyes! Open up to the world Jean!
-Marco stop!
They were laughing and Jean was trying to remove his hands from his face, after having tickled him in the stomach, Marco withdrew his hands and moved away so that he wouldn't start again like on the train. Jean shook his head and looked at the island, being sure of it. It still hadn't moved. Marco decided this was the perfect time.
-Jean? Why did you want to spend this day with me?
Jean's mind was suddenly in turmoil, he had to think of something quickly. He hadn't expected this kind of question or any at all. He didn't have so many choices open to him but he could lie to him. Lie and tell him what? Lying to him could hurt him, it would be terrible. But was the truth worth it now? Did he have the right to say it now? What if he regretted saying it? What if he regretted never having said it?
-Because...Actually, well...you see, my parents always had enough money to pay for school, so I never needed to take a job to earn money.
-Sorry, but what?
-In fact, what I'm trying to say is that... I didn't take this job for the money. I took this job, because you were there. And because, I had the impression I saw you everywhere, in this shop, in the center, in the bus, in the library, even in one of my dreams and I assure you that it was nothing weird. And then I happened to bump into you at this convenience store, when I had only bumped into you once at Connie's college and...
-Jean?
-The truth is that I fell in love with you a long time ago. I think it started in middle school and I realized it at the end of high school. When I didn't see you again, I realized that I wasn't straight. And a year later I found you in this convenience store, so I jumped at the chance. And today you tell me it's your last fucking day so I couldn't let you go, not a second time. I'm a coward Marco, I tell you this now...I brought down the mood, sorry we better keep moving.
-Jean wait!
-That was stupid, I'm sorry! We can act like nothing happened and...
-Jean, wait!
Marco put his arms around Jean's waist, which forced him to stop moving forward and put his head on his shoulder. It took him a few seconds, a few seconds to find the right words, a few seconds to understand what was happening. But would he be more cowardly than him? He was going to die today, would it be wrong to tell him everything now?
"Marco, don't hesitate to do something crazy today! ;)"
He was going to do something crazy today.
-I love you Jean.
Jean felt his heartbeat quicken, and he was sure Marco could hear it.
-For a very long time, I did not understand why I felt so attracted to you. I always suppressed those feelings because I didn't want to disgust you. I always loved you, I never stopped. I felt like you would never leave my mind. If you're a coward Jean, I am too.
He felt all sorts of things, he wanted to cry, to scream, he wanted to hug him, he wanted to look at him, to see his eyes, his smile, his freckles, he wanted to keep him just for himself. Jean finally dared to move and put his hand on Marco's head. In turn, Marco raised his head and Jean turned to face him.
When Jean put his hands on his cheeks, Marco felt the tingle in his chest intensify. Jean gently caressed his cheek, and he saw it clearly in his eyes, all the emotions in his amber eyes, amber that had the particularity of containing magnificent memories of the past.
-I want to kiss you.
-Do it.
So he did, immediately feeling as if he forgot all that he knew about it. He pulled away to watch Marco's reaction, and Marco smiled before coming back to kiss him and ran his hands through his hair. He felt so many emotions that he felt like he was boiling.
When they had to part, Jean was red which made Marco laugh and pinch his cheek, he knew very well that he had to be the same color. From his point of view, Jean couldn't take his eyes off Marco's, admiring his glow of life. It was a passing bird that brought them back to earth. Marco glanced down the sandy path behind Jean that led them to the beach.
-The first to come downstairs?
Jean barely had time to answer that Marco had already left running.
-Marco! You're cheating!
He was in pursuit, but Marco had already taken the lead and was running towards the beach. Jean was able to accelerate at the end of the path where Marco had to slow down and caught up with him very quickly. He grabbed his hand forcing him back and wrapped his arms around his chest and soon they lost their balance and fell in the sand laughing.
-I won anyway!
-Since I am nice, I leave this victory to you.
-How nice of you, Jean Kirstein!
Jean raised his chest to look at Marco lying in the sand, he needed to hear him again. His name sounded different from his voice, it sounded melodious.
-Say my name again...
-What?
-Please say it again.
Marco raised his arm and delicately placed his hand on Jean's cheek, smiling.
-Jean Kirstein, my dear Jean Kirstein!
He was happy, he didn't want this day to end, ever. He wanted to stay there laying in the sand next to Marco. Because now, all he wanted was to hug him, to shower him with love, to know the exact number of his freckles, he wanted to live with him. Marco smiled at him even more, letting his fingers brush his cheek.
-I'm going to melt if you keep looking at me like that.
-Silly.
He grabbed his hand on his cheek and leaned down to kiss him and if he listened to the little voice in his head he would never stop kissing him. It was like he didn't need to hide anything anymore. Like he didn't need anything but himself and that Marco was giving him a sense of freedom.
-Can I take a picture? I want to keep this memory.
-If you want.
Jean took his phone out of his pocket and went back to bed in the sand next to Marco.
-Don't move.
-Thank you, I still know how to take a picture Jean!
That moment they had no care in the world and the biggest worry of the day seemed to pass leaving them feeling free. He reached out, ready to take the picture when Marco moved his head to the other side.
-Stop moving!
-Sorry, I saw a seagull.
-A seagull seriously?
-Yes, I don't see them often in town!
Without paying attention, he had taken the picture, but he didn't look at the result, since something else had just captured his attention. He turned around and saw the ice cream truck park near the beach.
-You have to try the ice cream here! They are super good! I always bought the ones from here!
He grabbed his hand and helped him up. Marco was still tapping the remaining sand off his pants while Jean had already climbed off the beach. Marco hurried to join him after looking one last time at the island in the middle of the sea, everything was so peaceful. He quickly joined Jean, who was already waiting for him on the tarmac sidewalk.
-What flavor do you want?
-What's the best?
-Well... pistachio?
-Then go for pistachio.
-In fact, it's my favorite.
Of course, pistachio could only be Jean's favorite flavor, he would have liked to know that before. An idea occurred to him, he needed to make one last phone call. He gave Jean a quick smile, who was watching him from the line for the ice cream and searched his contacts for the number he was looking for.
The blow was fatal. Marco didn't have time to see what had happened when the stranger bumped into him unlike Jean who was still standing in front of the merchant, two pistachio ice creams in hand which he dropped on the ground, while the stranger escaped into the alley on the other side.
-Marco!
His scream alerted the other people around him who started to scream in turn. He left the ice cream on the floor and ran to throw himself at Marco. He caught him before he fell and had to sit under the weight of his body. He withdrew Marco's hand, hiding a horrible red stain on his clothes which was starting to spread rapidly.
Jean had forgotten that death had been pursuing him since this morning.
-Hey, Jean, I'll be fine.
With his other hand, Marco turned Jean's face towards his eyes, he didn't want him to see the horror spreading.
-No, not now. Don't talk, okay, save your strength. Someone call an ambulance! Quick!
-Jean, you knew it had to happen, didn't you?
Jean grabbed Marco's hand on his cheek and squeezed it in his own, he didn't want to lose his warm touch.
-Please, not now.
-I wish you didn't see me like that.
-Don't say that, you have to stay alive.
-I have always liked your determination. But you know that as well as... me.
-Help will arrive soon. Wait, you'll get better!
-Jean...Can I hear it one last time?
-Marco please...I love you.
-I love you too, Jean Kirstein.
There was this moment, when no sound reached his ears, when the world around him became blurred and plunged into a ball of anguish. Jean had just seen Marco close his eyes.
Marco was asleep, he was asleep, he could only sleep, Jean was sure of it. He was playing a bad joke on him, it was a very bad joke, but he was going to wake up. He was going to open his eyes again, he was sure of it.
-Marco? Marco! Marco open your fucking eyes!
He put his hands on the brunette's starry cheeks, searching for the slightest sign of life.
-Marco I’m begging you...
He couldn't see anymore because of the anguish, the tears flowed from his eyes now and as comfort, he hugged the inert body of Marco against him, rocking him and waiting for him to wake up.
Around him, the world accelerated, people approached him to look at him with foul curiosity, while others tried to give him space as others took their children away. A siren approached with an abominable noise in Jean's ears. The ambulance parked near him and three people got out with all the necessary equipment.
-Help him! I beg you!
The only man present withdrew the brunette's body from his arms, he checked his pulse and gave a knowing look to his colleagues who understood the situation. But Jean wasn't in their head, he didn't understand, there was nothing to understand. Marco needed care after he was going to wake up.
A woman came out from the truck and handed an object to her colleague, the two of them lifted Marco's body before placing him on a stretcher and closing the tarp around him.
-Hey! What are you doing!
-Time of death estimated at 6:00 p.m.
Marco wasn't dead. He forbade anyone to say that. He couldn't be dead.
-No! No! He's not dead!
He threw himself on the stretcher and tried to open the closure but someone prevented him from doing so by wrapping his arms around him forcing him to step back while the man and a woman moved away the stretcher where Marco laid.
- Marco fucking wake up. Come on please...
He gave up when he saw the stretcher put away in the truck. It was all over. It all started with Jean and it all ended with Jean.
I was calling
For the last time.
We've been here before,
T hey found the pictures in the snow.
You Are
a Memory- Message
to Bears
He had lost track of time. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. Nurses were coming to see him, probably asking him to leave or asking him if he needed anything, but he couldn't hear their words. All that echoed in his head was Marco’s voice calling his name, over and over and over again. He did not want to forget the sound of his voice.
He had been taken to the hospital with his friend's body because of his state of shock. He had to identify the one who now slept forever. He was also questioned about what had happened since Marco had been assaulted and had his papers stolen and his phone was out of order as it had crashed on the ground before Marco fell.
Now he was waiting in a hospital hallway that reeked of hand sanitizer and was as white as death row itself for his mother and above all Marco's family to whom he owed one last favor.
Hearing Marco's mother's agonizing cry of pain was even more trying, so he tried not to burst into tears again. Not in front of them, he had to prove himself worthy, just to give them the letters. So he clapped his hands to his ears, no longer giving into the pain of crying, screaming and thinking.
He had to wait several minutes before he was able to get up and walk towards them. His parents were talking with the police officer who had questioned him earlier.
-You caught the one who killed my son?
-Yes. His name is Porco Galliard. He will be judged in a few days, and he doesn't have just this case on his back, so he should be sentenced for a long time.
-You are Jean Kirstein, aren't you?
He turned suddenly towards the source of the voice behind him which had frightened him. He clutched the letters in his hand when he looked at her face. She looked a lot like Marco, the same eyes, the same freckles, only the tired look on her face helped him tell them apart. He was sure she must be Victoria.
- Yeah, and you must be Tori. He told me about you...
- He told me a lot about you too.
Looking at her more closely, he noticed her reddened eyes. He shouldn't stay there, especially in front of her, who looked so much like Marco. There was no discussion, which was for the better because he wouldn’t be able to last long. He just handed her the letters which she grabbed without a word.
-It's from...Marco. He wrote them down this morning and wanted me to pass them on to you.
-You spent the day with him, right?
-Yeah...
-Did he have fun?
-I think so, in any case it looked like it.
-And he told you?
He knew very well what she was talking about, not the Death-Cast call. He couldn't get a sound out of his mouth so he just nodded and looked away ready to crack. He was saved by the vibration of his phone, his mother tried to call him.
-Sorry, I have to go. My condolences.
-Thanks for doing this for him.
He nodded again while walking away as quickly as possible. Once in the car, he looked at his mother who was lost under her sudden plea to come get him here without explanation. But she felt all the pain he carried and the sadness that flowed from his eyes. Then took him in his arms, and Jean, feeling safe again in the arms of his mother, began to cry, revealing all his weakness.
-He died in my arms mum...
On their way home, he locked himself in his room and let himself fall to the floor, no longer feeling any strength in his legs. He took the time to scan his room and in that moment of calm and silence, all the memories of the day passed through his head. And the memory of his last breath too.
He felt weak, cowardly, he wasn't worthy of all this. He had taken him to his place of death, he had taken him to where he was going to die. Where he had breathed his last breath. Where some asshole had taken his life to steal his documents, when he had worked so hard for this money, for this life… Now Marco Bott is dead.
He died where they expressed their feelings, where they kissed, where they laughed, where they took that picture. Remembering the photo, he grabbed his phone from the floor, ignored his notifications and went straight to his gallery to look at his latest photo. He loved him. They were both chuckling at the seagull not knowing that this little laugh would be his last memory of their time together.
He didn't want another life without him.
With a difficult movement, he got up and grabbed his computer and sat on his bed. He needed to write him one last word, one last thing in his memory. He then went to the Decounters blog, he scrolled through some posts. Some posted images while others a message with a last thank you. And there were others like him who wrote on behalf of their friends, family, love who were now gone.
Finally after gathering the necessary courage from scrolling through the blog he decided to create his own. He had to talk about Marco to the others, he needed to talk about Marco. He had to make people understand the person he was and the love he had for others, the love he had for him. He wanted Marco to become the ray of sunshine he needed, his star in the night.
"Marco Bodt was an incredible person. I know you think I'm only saying that because he's dead and I want to pay him a nice tribute, but he really was. I learned too late to know him, and I'm sure he could have given me a lot more. The truth is that I'm a coward and I waited until the last moment to finally talk to him, to finally tell him everything. But despite that, he assured me that I was not one, because the love I had for Marco Bott, he also had for me. I didn't think life could be so awful with people as nice as him. To give you an idea, Marco was a very present big brother for his little sisters, a beloved son who was ready to do anything to help his parents. Imagine that on the last day, he went to work in this damned and miserable convenience store in the neighborhood. Today, I write him a last memorial. Because despite the difficult news, and the ups and downs, he still had hope even though death was at his side.
I wish I could have spent more time with you, telling you that I love you again and again. I would have liked to live my entire life with you, fall asleep in your presence and wake up with you by my side. We would have had our own house or apartment, we could have adopted a hamster perhaps. I would have wanted you to be my model, my muse, and I would have spent my days painting you, knowing every part of your body and keeping it on paper. I wish I had tasted that pistachio ice cream before you closed your eyes.
I love you
Your dear Jean K."
And it was barely past midnight when his phone rang, displaying Death Cast's name on its screen.
Jean Kirstein was going to die today.
…
"Hi Jean! It's Marco. In fact, my name should be written right? Ha ha...if you receive this message, it means that my time has already passed! Sorry, it's quite complicated to get it right. Jean, I had the best day of my life, and I am not exaggerating in any way. I am happy that you spent this last day with me, I loved it, I loved everything, I loved you loved it. And I can't wait to taste those famous ice creams! ... Jean, don't worry about me once I'm dead. Of course there's the stage of mourning, but don't keep your life with old memories of me. Live a life full of adventure, and love, find a perfect friendship, or an incredible companion. Adopt a dog or even a cat. Live a life full of passion and art. I've always loved seeing you paint...I hope we won't see each other again soon...ha ha...I love you Jean, Jean Kirstein."
END