Chet Watakeekul

I couldn't let Vincent go in that condition. When he unlocked his car, I immediately got into the passenger side as he got into the driver's side.

"Get out," he heaved between labored breaths. His voice sounded strange as if he was choking. One large hand was placed over his chest. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and yet I could clearly see the goosebumps on his neck and forearms.

"No," I said.

The light by the rearview mirror slowly dimmed and went out completely. We were cascaded in darkness.

"Out!" he demanded.

"No!" I replied.

"Please." He said softly. There was so much pain in his voice. I wondered if he had ever let anyone see this side of him. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.

"I can't," I said quietly.

His breathing got worse. Everytime he gasped for breath there was a slight whistle to it. "Why?" he gasped.

"Because you are clearly not okay. You weren't before with Mateo, and you especially aren't after that phone call. Who was it? What did they say to you?"

He wheezed and rubbed his trembling hand over his chest.

"Someone has been lying to you and I hate lies more than anything," I said. "Someone has been telling you for a long time that you can't trust people and they are wrong. Is that what the person on the phone told you? That people are just out to use you? That they are just out for your money? What did they say to you to put you in this state?"

His eyelids pinched closed. "It's all wrong," his voice cracked. "I'm wrong. It's disgusting. Everything. Disgusting." The way he said disgusting - the intonation and inflections - it didn't sound like him. He had said it before, but now I knew it wasn't him. It sounded like he was repeating it the exact way someone else said it. "People use and are used. Nothing is real. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't exist."

His hands were visibly shaking. The one was still pressed over his heart. His other hand practically vibrated as he brought it up to cover his closed eyes. A tear trickled down beyond his hand and down his cheek. It clinged to his chin for a moment before it fell onto his shirt.

I grabbed both of his wrists and pulled them away from his body. His eyes flashed open. Gold pooled with liquid. He tried to pull his wrists away, but in this moment he was weak and I wouldn't let him.

My gaze held his. "Whoever told you this is a liar," I said. He started to shake his head in protest to my words. "They are lying. Not every person in the world wants to use you and you definitely should exist."

He shook his head. He didn't believe me. I dropped his wrists and wrapped my arms around him in a hug.

"I give this to you just as a human being to another human being," I said quietly. "I don't want anything in return. I just want to give you my warmth, my sincerity in this moment that I want only good things for you with nothing in return."

His entire body trembled in my arms. His chest expanded and contracted with every labored breath. He put his forehead on the top of my shoulder and I could feel the wetness as his tears fell onto my shirt.

We stayed that way - his forehead on the top of my shoulder, my arms around him - for a long time. I stroked his hair like my mom did for me whenever I was upset. His frantic breathing slowed. His trembling body stilled. I thought it might be time for me to pull away now that he was calm, but Vincent surprised me. His long arms slowly wrapped around me. I hadn't expected this. I hadn't expected to get warmth for warmth. I couldn't pull away now. I held him tighter.

"I can't believe you," he said quietly next to my ear. "But I want to believe you. Maybe you are different." He lifted his head off my shoulder, but instead of pulling back his face got closer to mine. "Maybe you and you alone are different."

He kissed me.

I didn't expect this at all. I should pull away. I should definitely pull away.

Something inside me opened, something I hadn't realized was closed.

No. Don't pull him closer. Arms what are you doing? Let him go. Fingers, don't curl in his hair. Let go. Lips, stop this. But my body didn't listen to me. My lips moved with his, my arms crushed him to me. My heart beat in my chest like never before. My entire being tingled at his touch. His arms tightened around me. What was I doing?

He leaned away quickly and his expression was one of surprise as if just waking from a dream. Our arms pulled away from each other. He swallowed and sat back in the driver's seat. I settled back into the passenger seat. We were silent.

"I'm sorry," he finally said quietly.

I didn't know what to say to that. Did he not like the kiss? Was I really bad at kissing? Did he think he was bad at kissing?

"Ugh, what am I doing?" He leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel as if his life depended on it. "I'm so confused," he whispered. His forehead dropped to the steering wheel between his hands.

"About the kiss? About me? About the people who are lying to you? If I'm telling the truth? If...?"

His hand broke free of the steering wheel and covered my mouth.

"Sorry," I said. It came out muffled from underneath his hand.

He dropped his hand and sat back in his seat. "Aren't you confused?" he asked quietly. "Am I the only one feeling this way?"

My mouth twitched, my tongue moved inside my mouth. I just didn't know what to say.

"Nevermind," he said. "I'm okay now," he lied. "You can leave."

"I'm confused," I said. His vulnerable eyes turned to me. "I'm really confused. I just wanted to show you that there was genuine warmth in this world and then you were kissing me and then I was saying in my head 'arms don't grip him tighter, fingers stop playing with his hair, lips don't kiss him harder', but my body wouldn't listen to me and I just kept kissing you back and then you pulled away and said you were confused, but I don't know what you are confused about. Are you confused about kissing me? Are you confused about whoever is lying to you? Are you confused if I'm telling you the truth? Are you confused because you're suddenly attracted to me? Was I a good kisser?"

I stopped as a huge smile touched his lips.

"Sorry," I said. "I tend to ramble."

"Don't be sorry for that. It's cute." His eyes widened as he realized what he just said. "What is wrong with me?" he mumbled.

We grew silent. I wasn't sure if I should wait for him to answer all my questions or if I should talk more or if I should just get out of the car and forget this ever happened.

"I'm confused about all of that," he finally said. "I never doubted my family when they told me people will take advantage of my wealth, when they told me Alex was disgusting. When they told me I disgust them. When they told me I couldn't trust people."

"It was your family?" I asked incredulously. I realized he wasn't finished talking and I interrupted him. I did that motion to indicate I was zipping my lips shut, but come on, that was not going to last long. It was me we were talking about.

"They've been telling me those things since before I could talk," he said. "I believed them. Always. Why wouldn't I? Especially when I ran into people who kept proving them right. And then you come along and flip everything around. I want to believe you, but I can't. It hurts." There was so much raw emotion in those last few words that it hurt me.

I placed my hand on top of his without thinking about it. His fingers were cold as they curled around mine. It became silent again.

"I'm not sure how adequate of a judge I am of your kissing," he said to me. "But I know I liked it more than anyone else I've kissed."

That made me feel good and gushy inside.

"What is this between us?" I asked. "What are we doing? I thought I hated you."

"I thought I hated you too. I don't know what this is."

We were silent again. So unlike me.

"I should go," I said.

"Wait," he said as my hand was on the door handle. "I'll take you home."

We stared at each other for a long moment before I slowly released the door handle and put on my seatbelt. We didn't say anything other than I provided him with directions. We stopped in front of my house and I opened the car door to get out.

"Chet," Vincent said.

I paused and looked at him.

"Let's not avoid this," he said, "whatever it is."

I nodded in consent.

"Goodnight, Chet."

"Goodnight, Vince."