your name in lights

The problem with feeling is that it leaves you alone and wishing you’d never felt anything at all. Maybe, some think it’s better to live and hurt than to never live at all - but people can’t break you unless you let them get under your skin.

“You’ve got mail.”

Everything burns now: even the softness of Rio’s touch when he says good morning. Everything changes, and this is the scariest part. The room is too bright, and gives him a headache. Even when Rio switches out the bulbs for something dim, they make his eyes feel achy.

You always claim not to care. But I think that really, you care too much, and you don’t want to get hurt.

People think they know you, even without ever speaking to you at all. Ivo is secretive and self-serving, and no one knows anything they’re not supposed to. People find comfort in changing narratives to suit their own preferences, sifting through unpleasant truths, elaborating the rest. People are bad liars, but insist otherwise. No one knows a thing.

“Hey, Four-Eyes, did you hear me? I said you’ve got mail.”

Rio lies beside him, smelling like fruit. He’s got a girlfriend now. Ivo couldn’t care less.

“I don’t care.”

It’s easy to be unappreciative - but even the harshest words don’t seem to threaten Rio. He doesn’t argue. This is the most infuriating thing about him. He touches Ivo’s face as though he’s breakable. “It’s from Anika.”

Ivo hasn’t spoken to his aunt in years. The day he left, they argued about his lack of graciousness toward her - she expected appreciation for taking him in, and he loathed being given directions. There’s probably things he doesn’t know about Anika’s childhood, but she never brought them up, and he never cared enough to ask.

Juno isn’t dead. Ivo has known this for months, and no one ever believed him when he brought it up.

One of the problems with Rio is that he talks: not to betray the people around him, but to keep people updated about his life. Sometimes, his life involves Ivo. It’s impossible to be unknown. The idea behind leaving is always to be incognito.

“Stop telling people where I live, dipshit. If I wanted my location to be revealed, I’d get a fucking phone.”

There’s a cat under the bed. Ivo found it on the street a couple of days ago, and no one could find a home for it. He had a dog, briefly, in childhood. Like everything else, the dog got left behind. Ivo named the cat Kaj. Unlike humans, cats understand the concept of personal space.

“Pim wrote it.”

Rio says nothing about speaking to Ivo’s family. The man updates him regularly about things he doesn’t care about: Juno came home, Aspen made a new friend, none of it matters. Rio calls home once a week to talk to his parents, and Ivo makes fun of him for acting like a bootlicker. It’s late in the day. Ivo can tell by the position of the sun in the sky, and the way the light hits his face. Most people can’t do this. Most people have no sense of self-reliance.

Everybody has secrets. The lives of other people should mean nothing to you.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

After a while, stoicism gets exhausting. If you want to be taken seriously as a man, stoicism is a necessity. This is something Pim said all the time, when Ivo was a kid. He’s been this way for far too long to become any different. Rio scratches the cat, who purrs and butts its head into Ivo. “In the envelope. It’s something Pim wrote. It was supposed to go with you after he died. Juno found it at Verena’s house.”

Even with the curtains drawn, the sun is too warm. Ivo missed home, but it doesn’t feel the same. “Why am I supposed to give a shit? Juno’s a dumb bitch. You’re an asshole. You think you can fix everything, but you can’t.”

“I don't want to fix you.” Rio massages his shoulders, which are tense. “I want to love you even though you’re broken.”

They say everyone deserves to be forgiven if they just apologize. Ivo knows that most people don’t apologize out of guilt. Humans like to make themselves seem better than they are, and apologize to make themselves seem this way. Ivo doesn’t lack empathy. He doesn’t waste emotions on those who are undeserving. No one exists without a desire to prove their own superiority. Ivo rolls out of Rio’s reach. “Fuck off.”

Ivo can’t lie. He’s never trusted a person in his life until Rio.

His knees buckle when he stands. The bedroom floor is carpeted and cold, and makes his feet feel prickly. It’s a strange sensation to describe. When his feet lose feeling without warning, he tumbles forward. Rio, who loves acting like a saint, catches him before he hits the floor.

What do you think, Ivo? Should we take the train or the bus?

It doesn’t matter, Papa. I just want to go somewhere with you.

Why would you marry a man who does everything in his power to make you feel worthless?

Rio says he loves him. Words are easy to say, and lies are easy to tell. Ivo has been telling them his whole life. Trusting someone means letting them hurt you, and then trying to clean up the mess they leave behind. He shoves Rio, who never shoves him back. “Letting people treat you like shit doesn’t make you a good person, you know.” Ivo isn’t a good person. He’s known this for years. “You’re a pushover and a bitch, and you hang out with people who are more fucked up than you because it makes you feel better about your own mistakes.”

There’s a sour taste in Ivo’s mouth. No matter how hard he tries to seem apathetic, everything erupts out of him in the end. The cat meows. Rio sits in front of him.

“He loved you.”

Pim had blue eyes, too. Sometimes, when Ivo looked at him, it felt like the man could see right through him. “Bullshit.” He never means to explode. He’s unpredictable, and always feels regret after letting his guard down. “I was never worth loving.”

Ivo longs to see the details of Rio’s face, and the marks on his body. He’s never been able to see the details in things, and it didn’t become a nuisance until now.

Stop making me feel things, asshole. You’re the only one with the power to either put me back together, or break me completely.

It’s hard to get comfortable. There’s an envelope on the floor in front of the men, and Ivo can’t let curiosity get the better of him. Being paid attention to in a way that’s more than just criticism makes him feel uneasy. His wedding ring is slim and gold, and cost more than it should have.

“Why do you think I married you?”

Everybody has trauma they don’t talk about. And maybe it involves you, and maybe it doesn’t. But it’s not your responsibility to tiptoe around other people so they don’t get upset.

“You feel bad for me. All I do is insult the people I love.”

“You love me, Four-Eyes?”

“No.” How can a person know what love means if they’ve never felt it before? “You’re annoying. You drive me crazy.” There’s no reason Rio should still be here. Being alone has its perks. No one is worth spending time around except Rio.

He chuckles. “You can tell me you love me, you know. I won’t make fun of you.”

It should be easy to tell, shouldn’t it, when you love someone? Ivo loved Pim, when he was a little boy, when Pim had his life together. It’s hard to remember when things changed. One day he was a working man and a doting father, and the next, he was a total stranger. It doesn’t matter now. You can do a million good things for someone in your lifetime. Once you’re dead, only the bad things will be remembered. If this is true, what’s the point in doing good at all?

Rio really is an idiot. You’d have to be, to move across the world for a boy you’ve only known for three years. It was his idea, anyway. One day, when Ivo struggled to find the motivation to get out of bed, Rio asked if he missed home.

Most people wouldn’t believe it, but Ivo is good with computers. In school, he learned to type by using a typing guide audio, and then memorized the position of letters on the keyboard. Pim, who hated technology as much as Ivo did, refused to let him use computers at home. When he got older and learned to think for himself, Ivo stopped using computers at school, too.

Rio’s hair is soft and thick, and his chest is bare. He has a lot of piercings; they’re smooth under Ivo’s fingers. The painkillers he’s been given work better some days than others, but never take the pain away completely. On a good day, he moves slowly and struggles to lift his feet. On a bad day, he can hardly get out of bed.

I wish everything wasn’t dark. I want to see you as more than just a shadow.

“Open your mail, pretty boy. I think it’s something you needed to see years ago.”

People don’t care enough to help people just for the sake of helping people. Classmates speak to him because they want to feel good about themselves, and prove that they’re good people. Anika sent him a letter from his father because she felt guilty about keeping it, and wanted to ease her conscience. Rio married him because he hates being alone, and it’s more comforting to spend time with someone you know, even if they don’t bring you happiness.

“It doesn’t make a difference whether you’re nice to people,” Pim said, a lifetime ago. “In the end, everyone only cares about themselves anyway.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know, what happened to your sister. You were just a kid.”

It’s uncomfortable to tell the truth. Even the most honest confession feels like a lie. People tell Ivo they can tell when he’s being dishonest, but this is bullshit. He says things without ever knowing if they’re dishonest at all.

It’s quiet, but only for a moment. “See, Four-Eyes,” says Rio, unexpectedly gentle, “I knew you loved me.”

Humanity is doomed. People are insufferable - Rio most of all. “I didn’t say that, dipshit.”

The way Rio whispers in his ear makes him weak. He’ll never say this out loud. “Oh, Ivo,” he says, in a way that makes him tingle, “you didn’t have to.” Nothing will ever be the same again. Rio kisses him as though he’ll die if he doesn’t.