The Bonehead Collection

Far From Reach, So Close To Touch

For most of his life, he always found the concept and idea of love to be sacred.

Love was something that he has always cherished and has been taught to cherish. Ever since he was a little kid.

In love, he found friendship and brotherhood. When he met his friends all those years ago, playing on the streets like fighters and royalty and nothing more. He missed those days.

In love, he found his family and the caring embrace that welcomed him in their warmth and connection. Such love has fleshed out the moment he first came here. Where all of his extended family and ancestors lived and welcomed him. How grateful he was for them.

And of course—in love, he found in her.

Her beauty and elegance made him long to hold and dance with her. Her strength and boldness made him admire her for everything she could and would ever do. And even if it has been years since they had spoken when she left for Spain, he knew how much he loved her. How his heart soared for her and how his belly fluttered about for her—from when he read her letters to the moment he laid eyes on her again.

Oh, how he adored her, how he wanted to be with her. To touch and kiss and dance with her.

How he loved her.

Such a pitiful end that it had brought him to.

~

"Hey, Manolo, something wrong?"

The musician sat up from his thoughts and looked towards Manny, cleaning the inside of an empty glass.

"Oh uh—don't worry about it." Manolo chuckled, trying for a smile. "It's nothing. Just kinda having a day, you know?"

Manny watched the younger skeleton with a blank look before shrugging. "Whatever you say...Are you still up for music night?"

"Music night? Oh well...," Manolo looked at his guitar sitting next to him, watching it solemnly, "...maybe I'll pass...for tonight." He gives a little smile, yet Manny couldn't help but notice how tired the musician looked.

Nonetheless, he didn't poke around whatever was bothering Manolo and nodded. "Alright—just let me know when you change your mind."

"Thanks, Manny...I just might head home early actually." His friend said, standing up from his chair and picking up his guitar case.

Placing the glass down, Manny watched the man leave with a sigh, before reaching somewhere to pour himself a drink.

"Poor kid." He said to himself, waiting for the evening rush to follow.

~

By the time night falls and party patrons came bustling into the bar, chattering themselves and calling for shots to beers, the rest of the "Boneheads"—as Brooks and Papyrus liked to call themselves—came at various times.

The evening grew strong with disco lights to bring the energy and the normal fairy lights to set the mood for midnight drink-outs, dates, and typical clamor. It's usually like these nights that can tire a person, but for Lewis, he enjoyed these moments with his ghostly friends.

Though, upon waiting patiently for everyone to come in, there was one person that was missing from the group.

"Hey, has anyone seen Manolo? I thought he was performing tonight?" The purple-colored ghost asked.

"I'm sure he'll come around. He's probably getting ready for the performance tonight—you know he wouldn't miss out on it." Jack reassured as he patted Lewis' shoulder.

"Well, that won't be the case for tonight, fellas." The two turned towards the bar as Manny was busy making and preparing drinks as waiters and customers went and left.