As Sin

lifeline

Whenever he was lost, he looked for Nate's voice.

Xia had a lot of memories of the past. That's what the alcohol and cocaine were for, to keep the memories of screaming, of hunger, of watching someone slam the door behind them and leave forever. He had a lot of memories he could call his first. But he ignored them all to remember the first time he heard Nate sing. That was when his life started. He might have picked up guitar long before they spoke to each other, but he couldn't remember how it sounded before he started playing it for Nate.

The substances and the passage of time blurred everything in his mind. He couldn't recall what Nate looked like back then, he couldn't even remember his own face. He was next to Nate with his guitar in his hands. He could feel people looking at them, but it didn't matter. He was strumming his guitar, prepared to follow the chords he saw.

He lost track of his thoughts when Nate opened his mouth.

When he sang, Nate seemed to materialize right before his eyes. He turned from an idea into someone real. Someone right before his eyes. He could hear him, see him, touch him. His voice rang through the room. Even as a child, his tone carried an air of haunting sadness. It seemed fleeting, as if he would disappear as soon as the song was over. Xia was chasing after his words, begging him to keep singing. Begging him not to disappear.

Nate sang as if he had torn his heart out of his chest, holding it up to anyone who would listen. Every beat of his heart translated into the smooth shifts of pitch in his voice. Xia wanted to be able to sing like Nate did. So effortlessly, to tear out the emotions from his brain and put it into his voice. To sing without his lungs giving out. To sing like a choir of angels descending from the sky.

It was only later that Nate learned to put some power and grit into his voice. It only made Xia even more jealous. Nate could sing in any way he wanted. When writing songs together, it felt like he was writing in a way where he could catch up to how they would sound together, his rasp and Nate's croon, rather than a way that he wanted. Some way where they could sound perfect together instead of having to meet in the middle.

Nate disagreed. He always disagreed. Nate always did as he said in the end, but only because he was right. Xia liked that about him, as much as it made him want to tear his hair off. He wanted Nate to do as he said because that was what he wanted, not because he was told. He and Nate shared the same mind. They wanted the same things but saw them differently. His black was Nate's white. Xia would ask him to jump, and Nate would say, "Why should I?"

"I love the way you sound," he would say, running his fingers across his shoulder blades. His fingers would trace the angel wing tattoos on his back, his voice becoming quieter and quieter as Xia felt the high kicking in.

"We sound perfect."

Xia would close his eyes, losing himself to Nate's touch. Everything felt better when he was high. He loved the way Nate's skin felt against his. He liked that he could finally breathe and let Nate touch him. His mind was silent enough that he could hear Nate breathing. He liked the way everything was numb but odd in a familiar way. He felt like Nate's body was his and he was Nate, and they were both one and different.

"Your voice is too sweet. It's too hard for me to catch up. I never sound right singing your songs."

"That's not what everyone else thinks."

Nate's thumb pressed into his neck. A gasp escaped his lips.

"We're on top of the world because of you, Xia. Without your voice, our songs wouldn't sound the same," he whispered, trailing his fingers down his spine. "They wouldn't sound like us."

Nate and Xia. Xia and Nate. It was always them. Us. He couldn't live any other way. He could leave everything behind except him. Nate was the only one who saw him. He was the only one who could possibly understand. Even if they were apart, they breathed the same air and sang the same songs. Everything he wrote was for Nate. When he put the words onto a page, he thought of Nate's voice. Every song was meant to be sung by that boy he met that fateful day. He could try to sing them, but they never sounded like he imagined. Nate was his missing piece.