Chapter 3

The scenery is quite spectacular — streaks of orange and yellow light dance over a layer of gray while the bright ball of fire sinks slowly behind the horizon. The radiance fades gradually as the sun leaves with a hushed promise to be back at dawn.

It's sickeningly poetic watching the perfect picture of dusk spread out beyond the French windows. The view might have taken Dylan's breath away if it is any other day. Not today.

Being back in the center's residential building doesn't make Dylan feel any different. He still doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be anywhere else. He just wants to be with… him.

He bids the sun good-bye and takes a step back. But it isn't really good-bye, is it? The sun will be climbing over the horizon tomorrow, rising to bring another day. 

What if… what if his tomorrow never comes though?

"You’re doing it again, Dylan." A hoarse, monotonous voice snaps him out of his trance. He tears his gaze away from the picturesque scenery only to land on the plump woman standing at the entryway, her all-white outfit crumpled but her hair is still tied up in a neat bun. The long hours of work taint her normally passive expression.

"Sorry?" Dylan isn't sure what the nurse is implying. He doesn't care, really.

"I hear you refused to see Doctor Kern," she says, her tone bordering on reprimand. 

Dylan's not fazed though. Instead, he's prompted to raise the invisible barriers around him. He can't let her in, can't let her through. His eyes are drawn back to the window, back to the enchanting scenery. How amazing it will be to be able to soar through those clouds.

A chilly draft coils around him and only then does he realize that it has started to grow cold in the room.

Before his thoughts can drift away once more, Dylan hears the nurse sigh audibly, hears the steady rhythm of her footsteps behind him, hears the melancholy in her voice when she says, "You've been here for three months, Dylan. Surely you don't expect to stay here forever?"

Dylan bites on the inside of his lip because he feels the urge to yell 'then just fucking let me die already!'

"I'm not going to pretend I don't know who you really are, Dylan, because I do." The nurse continues to speak, and Dylan can feel the frustration vibrating off her. "I may not know you completely, but I know who you were, what you did before… before all this."

Her mere presence is like a magnet, pulling Dylan's gaze to meet hers. Dylan's chest stings, like a knife's cutting right through his heart, when he sees the pool of emotions swirling in her eyes.

"I was a big fan, still is," she says, her throat bobbing when she swallows.

He tears his gaze away from her eyes, too afraid she might see through his soul. His gaze lands on her nametag: It reads 'Riva Samera.'

"I remember screaming every time you hit a home run," she says, most likely ignoring the discomfort that Dylan tries to show because this? This is something Dylan doesn't want to hear. "You were a total badass. Not to mention your battery with Lance Stradson. The best pitcher and catcher I've seen. You two were a match made in heaven, I tell you.“ 

"Stop." Dylan tries to block the words but it pierces right through his brain. He turns his back to her, hoping Riva will get the message and leave him alone.

Riva doesn't give up though. She says, "You can be that someone again, Dylan," with a resoluteness that pushes Dylan to the edge.

"Stop it!" Nononono, damn it!  Dylan counts in his head – a trick that Dr. Kern has taught him. It helps him stay in control.

"Do yourself a favor, Dylan. See Doctor Kern." Her voice sounds faint now, like she's backing away. "If you refuse to do it for yourself, at least do it for the people who care about you. Some people do want you to stay alive. And I'm one of them."

His heart is beating in sync with the sound of her fading footsteps. Then an eerie silence reverberates in his mind.

*

"What the fuck's happening to us, Dylan?" Lance practically screamed. Dylan had to pinch the bridge of his nose to control his temper.

For months now, he and Lance had been trying to get together but their horrid schedules made it impossible. Dylan had started a business so he'd been pretty busy as well.

When Lance started talking about some guy on his social media, Dylan tried to control the jealousy brewing inside him. But when his best friend, Ruben practically shoved his laptop on Dylan's face to show him the video blog Lance did while at the guy's place, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. So Dylan took the first flight to wherever Lance was to confront Lance about it.

"Nothing's going on, Dylan. I swear. H-he's just a friend!" Lance's swollen voice made him sound like he was on the verge of tears. 

Guilt grasped at Dylan's heart. He wanted to pull Lance close, to apologize, to tell Lance that he loved him and that he was sorry for yelling but the thought of Lance's friendship with this... Craig is still lingering at the back of Dylan's mind. 

"I fucking wish I could believe you, Lance," Dylan spat.

"Then fine! Don't believe me!" Lance's raised voice caught Dylan by surprise and he couldn't help but gape at Lance in shock. God, this is… this is suffocating. He needed some air. His lips had barely parted to tell Lance that he was going for a walk when Lance muttered, "This isn't working."

Fear seized his body. Shit, is he going to break up with me?

There was no fucking way he was going to lose Lance Stradson. 

"Look, babe," Dylan started, taking two careful steps toward his boyfriend. "I'm sorry I started this. This is stupid and childish and—"

"I'm sorry too." Lance’s gaze dropped to the floor, his hands wringing the hem of his t-shirt. "I um… I should've been more sensitive about how you'd feel before I even got close to Craig."

"Do you like him?" It was a reckless, stupid question, but Fuck, Dylan just had to know.

Lance's eyes grew wide and Dylan's heart dropped when Lance said, "Of course, I do." He shook his head, reached out a shaky hand, and began playing with the seam of Dylan's button-down shirt. "But he's just a friend. Please, Dylan, let's not fight anymore."

Dylan gave in. He took a step and pressed his forehead against Lance's. He stroked Lance's arms, feeling the bare skin warm against his fingertips.

"I'm sorry" was all Dylan had to say to make Lance fall into his embrace.