When You Came to Me

33-year-old Francis Darcy stands against the closed door of his New York flat. He stares across the room making eye contact with his date, Jax. The two are similar in appearance; dark brown hair contrasted by deep baby blue eyes. While they share the same tall stature, Francis’s introverted personality dwarfs him against the tenacious demeanor of Jax’s.

Francis takes a step toward Jax. He rings his sweaty hands together and pulls at the collar of his black fitted dress shirt. Nothing could prepare him for the moments ahead.

“Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure if you were going to when I asked, but here you are.”

Jax watches as Francis approaches him. He takes a seat on the couch adjacent to his own. It isn’t his time to speak yet, so he just listens to the smooth flow of Francis’s delicate voice.

“To be completely honest I don’t know what you see in me or why you would want me. Yet, I couldn’t resist the internal urge that was flaming in my soul and burned your image into my mind. You,

you’re too perfect in too many ways, and I—”

Francis’s thick, uncoordinated hand brushes the glass of Merlot that was sitting on the couch’s side table and knocks it to the floor. Glass splintering across the hardwood floor. The dark colored wine seeping into the edges of the cream carpet. Jax and Francis kneel down to collect the broken shards.

“...And I am nothing but an unstable fool.” Francis sighs. He takes the time in such close proximity to appreciate the features of Jax’s face. He runs a calloused finger down the fresh, angry scar right under Jax’s left eye. Jax gifts Francis a smile. A smile of comfort laced with the crippling memory of pain. Francis sees it in Jax’s eyes. Life wasn’t easy for either of them. Pain was something they knew and something they both desperately wanted to forget. Francis looks away, he’ll be weak if he starts to cry. He carelessly scoops the rest of the glass into his hand. He’d rather bleed out than shed a tear on the first date.

Francis takes the glass to the kitchen and dumps it in the trash. He walks to the sink to wash off the tiny pieces that pricked the surface of his skin.

He looks out the window and into the atmosphere of the New York night.

He watches a young woman get out the back of a black car that stopped on the street corner. Her tight red dress barely long enough to cover her butt as she stumbles back down a dark alley. Francis sighs and shakes his head. There’s no such thing as love anymore. Only lovers that speak the language of adultery.

Francis grinds his hands together harder. Blood spots from where pieces of glass still remain. He doesn’t care, he has a future relationship to worry about.

Will Jax be my love or my lover?

Francis is pulled out of the damp black hole of his mind by the sound of police sirens coming down the street. This world was damaged, but it could be fixed. It needed to be fixed.

“You wanna know something? The people down there don’t see the world like you and me. They’ve blinded by...well, truthfully I don’t really know what. But whatever it is it’s disgusting.”

Francis cuts off the water and dries his hands. He starts to walk back to Jax but stops next to a record player. He drops the needle and soft, luxurious sounds of jazz invite themselves into the silent apartment.

“Would you like to dance?” Francis asks.

Jax smiles and nods. The two stand face to face. Their palms pressed against each other. Francis follows Jax’s lead.

They move in slow methodical steps. Never stepping on each other's toes or moving a moment too soon.

One. Two. Three. Four.

One. Two. Three. Four.

They continue until the song comes to an end. Francis runs his hands Jax’s thick brown hair and tugs lightly.

“I want to play a game, if that’s alright with you.” Francis doesn’t wait for an answer. He crosses over to the coat closet on the other side of the room.

“They say that a man is nothing more than a face of many masks. Each mask represents a small part of who he is, but hiding himself as a whole.”

Francis pulls out a white mask, he runs his fingers around the opening of the eye.

“However, I believe that when we’re under our masks we can be who we truly are. There’s freedom behind this mask . Safety knowing that even when we were in our most cracked and vulnerable states these solid white casts can hold us in place. They can fix us.”

Francis places a mask in front of Jax. The man looks down at it, but doesn’t pick it up. His eyes meet Francis’s once more.

“When I saw you for the first time that night I thought it was nothing more than a fevered delusion. A trick orchestrated by my brain to fix my broken mind.”

“But now I realize you’re actually here and have no plans on leaving. So Jax, why don’t you put this mask on and tell me who you really are?

Jax places the mask over his slander face. The two men sit in silence.

A raspy voice breaks through, deep and filled with anguish. It’s Jax’s time to speak.

“I was birthed on a throne of lies, a crown adorned with the thorns of deception was placed on my head. Blinded by the blood that leaked from my torn skin. Yet, I saw everything. I was bitter at a young age because I was told life would get better. Like you. I lived every day wondering when a savior would oust me from this damned life. Like you. I questioned what this world needed, who this world needed. I lived, no, survived in pain because the world outside let you suffer.”

Francis moves to the kitchen once more, pouring a fresh glass of merlot and going back Jax. Placing the glass in front of him.

Jax continues to speak again. “I became a fugitive to the throne when this scar appeared on my face. And only because of this mask am I still being held together. I wondered when you’d finally see me, finally...welcome me in. I didn’t want this relationship to be one that started out of heartbreak. But, alias others don’t see you as precious as I do. They ripped your clothes and stripped you of your morality. They stained the skin of the very man who once wanted to save them. They couldn’t wash the black off their malevolent souls, but called you dirty.”

Tears force themselves out of Francis’s eyes. He bites lip to hold back a sob. For the first time, someone understood his pain. Jax opened the encasement of Francis’s broken heart.

Jax’s voice quivers. “ Francis...you and I are nothing by ourselves, but when we’re with each other we’re more powerful than the world would ever know. Together you and I can change things for the better. You just have to accept me as a part of you. This world needs to be cleansed and only you see that.”

Jax stands, Francis follows in suit. “Let me guide you Francis. Let me help these blinded heathens open their eyes and see the damage they have caused. Trust in me Francis. I will make you the savior I once cried out for.”

“I trust you.” Francis replies. He then slides the mask off his face. The two plunged back into silence.

Francis moves in for a kiss. His warm lips touch the cold glass of the mirror in front of him. He pulls away and smiles. Francis picks up the wine glass and taps it gently on the mirror.

He says with a smile. “cheers my love.”

It was finally done. Together him and Jax would make the world see.