As The World Falls Down

What's there to talk about?

Outside the flat, he unlocked his bike and started riding toward his house. He was supposed to go there for the weekend tomorrow, but he would just go earlier now. The house was probably empty, which was what he preferred at the moment. He never thought that there would come a time when he would seek solace from that house. He would have to stay there for a few weeks until Sander left. There was no way he could sleep in the flat, on that bed, next to him at night anymore. All Sander did was run. Everytime he took one step toward him, he took two steps back. How am I supposed to fight for him? Just in a few weeks, he would fly away, literally and figuratively, from him. France might not be that far, but with the way things went between them, it might as well be another world. Did he mention the city? No, he didn't. What that says, huh?

Robbe found himself stopping at a park without meaning to. It was that park again, where they first met, where Sander had had his heart, even though he didn't know it at that time. It was where he had seen him without his mask, the harmonious way he flowed with the world, the way his laugh reached into his being, like a small extension of universe, tendril of happiness with the ring of lonely, quiet rain, echoing his. He trodded on the path, reliving the memory, their strange conversation that also felt familiar akin to a meeting with an old friend. His feet stopped in front of the bench, then his eyes travelled the space toward the opposite bench, feeling a river of sorrow gushing inside him. I am grieving him already, as though I already lost him. Do I ever really have him? He stood for some time longer, then he left the park behind.

He cycled through the street, wind streaming passed his face, tinkles of laughters that only touched his ears, incomprehensible to him. I am never that important to him. Senne was wrong. You can't fight for someone who don't want you to fight for them. You can't fight alone. He reached the house, unlocked the door and went through the living room. There was no one, just like he thought. Perfect. Robbe walked upstairs to his room, took off his jacket, he put on his headphone and lay on the bed. Music drowned his thought, he closed his eyes, ignoring the ceaseless trickles of salt that coursing down his face, the broken hitch of his breaths, pain, so much pain.

*

He was having dinner together with his parents the next night. His mom made lasagna and his dad brought ice cream home. They were polite with each other, mostly they focused on him. He answered their questions, but he didn't talk much, so they talked more and more and he just listened quietly. His phone chimed, a text from Sander: Robbe, can we talk? He had texted him yesterday, asking if he was home with his parents. Like he didn't clearly already know he's spending the weekend with them. Robbe hadn't replied and he didn't now. What's there to talk about? He put the phone back on the table.

"Is something wrong honey? Why are you so quiet?" his mom asked.

"Nothing, mom." Robbe gave him a small smile.

"He's hardly eating," his dad said, tossing glances at his mom.

"What's that supposed to mean?" His mom glared at his dad.

His dad shrugged. "Maybe it's your cooking, it's all I am saying."

"Maybe it's your presence, when you bother to bestow one over us." Mocking smile.

Robbe sighed inside. "The lasagna is great mom. And dad, it's good to have you here."

"You don't have to be polite, we can order a take out if you want."

His mom had dropped her spoon and fork on her plate loudly. She turned to him, "Darling, does it really tastes okay? You want to eat something else?"

"Mom, it's really good." Robbe replied, trying to convey his sincerity. The food taste like solid water, not because his mom's cooking was bad, but just because he had no appetite.

His mom gave his dad a triumphant smile. "See? Robbe is fine with it. You can order take out, or better still go and eat somewhere else."

"Oh, you think I am here for you?" His dad laughed like it was the funniest thing he ever heard. "You think I want to spend one second with a cold-hearted woman like you?" He laughed again.

He could felt his mom radiating cold fury affecting the room temperature. I should have talk more, shouldn't have let this happen.

"Leave, then."

"I am here for my son, woman." His dad countered.

"Don't you dare belittle me with your 'woman'!" His mom was standing now.

Robbe's forehead throbbed. And I will have weeks of this.

"This is why Robbe doesn't want to go home. Who can blame him, really?" His dad was still sitting, flashing his mother a smile.

"When was the last time you look at a mirror? Or are you afraid that your reflection will hide from shame?"

His dad's smile disappeared. In just one second, his face was red anger.

"How dare you!" He shot out from his seat, shaking.

Robbe had had enough. Before his mom could reply, he pushed his chair back roughly. "Stop! Just fucking divorce already, okay!"

They both stared at him, unbalanced by his outburst, as he had never talked like that to them.

He glared at them. "I am fucking sick of this. It's clear you two can't stand each other allright. So, just do all of us a favour, and get a divorce!"

They both were looking at him like it was the first time they saw him in a clear light. He sighed and half-ran upstairs. Sitting on the bed, he pressed his hands on his face, filled with shame and guilt. I shouldn't have burst out like that. It's not their fault that I— Robbe didn't even want to finish his thought. He looked at Sander's text, opened his gallery and looked at the picture of their version of space. Their.. I have to stop using that word. He scrolled through his messages, looking for something that could distract his mind, brought him somewhere else, anywhere but this whirlpool of pain and anger. There was a broadcast message, a party tonight, it was from someone he knew passingly in the party where he met Nick. Robbe took his jacket, walking quickly passed the rooms, his parents were nowhere to be seen. One out, one in their room probably, he breathed out a relief sigh, and went out.