Leaves, Seasons, and Dead Trees (BxB)

13. - Denver Ever After

"If I know only one thing / It's that everything that I see,
Of the world outside is so inconceivable / Often I barely can speak."

- "Helplessness Blues" by Fleet Foxes -

*****

Samuel

As the clock on my phone strikes midnight, the Denver night sky erupts in a breathtaking display of vibrant fireworks.

Yet, Tyson and I are not part of the jubilant crowd gathering at the bustling 16th Street Mall. I, being of shorter stature and harboring a deep aversion to suffocating crowds, seek solace on the steps of Confluence Park. This oasis rests before a striking amalgamation of contemporary and classic apartment structures, the very parking lot where Tyson opts to park his car. We perch on the stair steps, facing the gentle flow of the South Platte River. In one claw, I cradle a lit cigarette, while Tyson clutches his cold lager.

Behind us, a raucous group of teenagers whoops and hollers, sipping canned beers and meticulously documenting their experience for Instagram. Beside me, a contented tiger sports a grin that seems to stretch wider with each dazzling burst of color, the gentle glow of the fireworks casting a warm illumination upon his contented face.

"They never cease to amaze me." Tyson brings his lager bottle closer to his lips before turning his gaze toward me. "You remember the last time you saw a fireworks show?"

I nod, my eyes deliberately avoiding his. "It was three years ago, actually. During Independence Day, about a month after you... well, graduated." I pause, sensing the weight of the conversation, but determined to continue. "But, you know, since I'm not too keen on crowds, I just headed to the local park and watched 'em from a distance. So..."

"The annual one over at Hammons Field?"

Again, I nod. "That's the one." I take a drag from my cigarette and steal a glance at Tyson. "What about you?"

Tyson, still entranced by the grandeur of the display, chuckles. "Well, last year, actually. It was during Independence Day for me too, but I could only watch it from my apartment window 'cause I was three sheets to the wind. And it was also in the old town, so too lazy to drive. So, yeah. It's a bit of a fuzzy memory."

I furrow an eyebrow. "I can't quite understand the allure of alcohol. Like, I just can't seem to figure out where they're hiding that 'nectar of the Gods.'"

Tyson grins. "Oh, well, if you're talking about the hard stuff, yeah, we're usually just chasing the... effects, I suppose. But this little buddy," he raises his lager bottle to my face before taking a quick, profound sip, "This one's mild. No need to fret. Plus, it's kinda sweet."

Before I can shift the conversation, Tyson persists. "But, you know, if you ever want to give this one a try, you can just ask me and I'll—"

I shake my head, my mouth clamping shut instinctively. "No, no, no, no. You know why. Don't make me say it."

Tyson's face registers guilt, and he smacks his temple before offering an apologetic look. "I-I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to, I swear! I-I mean I didn't mean to make you—"

I chuckle, brushing off his concern, and return my gaze to the dazzling lights. "Nah, you're fine. I mean, I know you mean... I know you mean well, Ty."

With a smile, Tyson redirects his attention to the crackling fireworks overhead. Later, as the fireworks subside, we make our way back to Tyson's car. Once settled inside, I am convinced we'll head to Tyson's friend's place until he inquires, "You... wanna go somewhere else?"