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rue de Maxident

20:30

Are the stars not one of the most pleasant sights known to man? They bespangle the sky and hypnotize the eyes, aligned in constellations. But amid these scattered jewels fly the ones that boast eminence, acclaimed by the majority: the shooting stars. They glide and wishes are made on their tails. An honor to witness, yet a horror to face.

Falling out of love was like the meteor that bejeweled its reputation with the fairytale fallacy of a shooting star. It deceived as the one above all else, just as a man's love might've convinced him that all he felt was real. Meteors blazed with confidence as they raced past the stagnant shine of the echt starts, until burning up in the atmosphere. Almost like the love that was never meant to be.

The love that bred swarms of butterflies in the abdomen, and legitimate reactions to further cajole. But just as the meteor cannot withstand the harsh conditions that the atmosphere plates before it, in addition to the burning flames behind, so does this love fail to stand tall throughout the weakest tremor. So can this love disintegrate and allot heartbreak to the partner whose heart truly beats in the pattern of the stars; those that stood. Those that never failed until death.

Felix was a sure testimony to this postulation. It wasn't as thin a skeleton in the closet as he had coveted; he fostered that interpretation instead of the assumption that his mates could study him so well. But could a crazed man not read past his features and harvest the truth? The question that his friends had brought up bleached his face to transparency, expression drooped into frowned lips, restless eyes, and shallow breaths.

The telling of that secret was inevitable, no matter how much Felix would have liked to deny it. The months of deceit had filled him, from the sole of his feet to the brim, with unbearable guilt; only a matter of time until he could hold back no longer. And alas, that evening was his limit. He gulped and stopped in his tracks, and so did the two boys who walked on either side of him.

"Are you alright?" Jeongin, the taller one, with black, frizzy hair and vertical dimples, asked, placing a hand atop Felix's shoulder. "Is something wrong with Jisung? Why'd you become so tense just as Seungmin asked about him? It's only because we haven't seen him in a while."

"Nothing's wrong with him," Felix admitted, shivering as a wave of the evening breeze swopped passed his slackened collar, and down his back. How was he to go about confessing the degeneration of his meteor-like love? Felix was unsure, yet certain that the obligation to come clean would lift his tongue no matter how hard he tried to resist. "I just- there's something that has been on my mind for a long time. But I don't even know how to go about saying it."

"You're making it sound like something terrible went on," Seungmin, the other male, inputted. His brown bangs fell just above his eyes, and his lips were flattened with his pout, glancing at Jeongin before speaking again. "Did he hurt you? Or vice versa?"

"Promise that you won't tell him what I'm about to confess," Felix pleaded, looking at the pair with teary eyes and a quickened heart. His fingers tensed in the pockets of his trench coat, and he leaned against a wall that bordered the sidewalk. The streets weren't too busy, but active enough to keep out of the threat of danger where they stood, having that meeting of disclosure before proceeding on the walk to their respective homes.

They'd been volunteering at the meal center earlier. One of those that Florian's church regularly funded, obligating the youth of the congregation to step forward and strengthen their morality by aiding those in need. And Felix never minded, especially considering that his closest mates, from university and the church, would work by his side.

He knew that he could trust them. They shared a bit more in common than the average.

"You've kept our secret. We can keep yours," Jeongin assured, rubbing Felix's back, and moving to lean beside him in case any passerby sought to march along their side of the narrow road. "What's happening?"

Felix held his breath and closed his eyes in contrition. "I do not love Jisung," he said and exhaled in relief; a sense of peace that Felix never knew he could experience. Was that what telling the truth felt like at all times? No wonder it was stressed to such an extent. And Felix couldn't help but desire to tell the truth more often, in the future. He wished, more than ever, to tell his truth, to all around him.

But some ideas were simply not executable. Felix understood that.

"I can't continue to deny it," he went on when Jeongin and Seungmin remained silent, perhaps organizing their thoughts and quizzes for Felix: 'For how long have you felt like this? When will you tell him? Will you ever tell him?' Felix sighed, chewing on his bottom lip, dry from the chilly night, and toyed with his fingers in his pockets. "You two are not saying anything. Please say something. You're making me more nervous than I already am."

"Sorry," Jeongin stuttered out, nonplussed, to say the very least. He was having a hard time making sense of Felix's admission. Because that was Jisung Han, that they were speaking about. The Jisung Han who had willingly given up his entire reputation to love Felix, whom all was convinced loved him too.

The same young man who had lost the right hand of his parents and church brethren. The one who had erased Felix's name from the list of shame that had been written when they'd been spotted; lips pressed together, hands held, eyes closed, hearts content.

That Jisung, whom Felix had vowed to love, for all his life; had promised to pay back as time went by. Felix was no longer in love with Jisung Han?

"I'm just having a hard time to-- how long have you felt like this?" Jeongin asked, feeling a cry in his chest in sympathy for Jisung. But of course, he could not express such, for fear of breaking Felix's trust. "Have you told him how you feel?"

"I don't know how," Felix barely whispered, shivering. That was the more accurate aftermath of the truth, wasn't it? He crossed over his assumptions from earlier. The peace that had soothed him after beginning his profession had lasted for merely a minute, paving the way for utter shame, unexpectedly.

Felix felt like throwing up, like crying, like turning back the hand of time and pretending that nothing was wrong with him or Jisung, like feigning sincere love for Jisung Han. "How do I go about telling him something like this? Jisung gave up everything for me."

"How long have you been feeling this way?" Seungmin asked, and Felix stiffened as if that was the one inquiry that he dreaded the most.

"Erm... about... about six months," Felix swallowed, heavily, ever so penitent. The verbalization of his deeds that he had expected to lessen the overflow of guilt in his conscience only added to the flavor; bitter, nauseating. Felix lowered his head, breathing in.

"I know it sounds horrible. I'm aware. But how do I go about telling Jisung something so... so... I haven't even got a word for it. Jisung will break, to pieces. And there is nothing that I will be able to do about it. I don't know how either of us will be able to stand it."

"I say, follow your heart," Seungmin stated, taking Felix and Jeongin off guard. They furrowed their eyebrows attentively, curious about Seungmin's reasoning. "If you've hidden this away for six months but felt so overwhelmed as to let it all out today, then it's clear that it has become too much, Felix. The longer you take, the harder he loves, the more distant you become, and the more hurt he will be at the end of the day."

"I get what Seungmin is saying," Jeongin added, sighing as if carrying a fraction of Felix's emotional baggage. "It's really tricky. But you can't-- you can't live a lie. What has happened has happened. You just need to promise to be there for him? If that can ease any of the pain whatsoever. Just prepare for anything, Felix."

"I know," Felix sighed. "I know, I know. I know."

+ + + + +

Motel 3racha

12:30

Nothing seemed to have been making any sense. Yes, Felix had been honest with his best friends but still, no answer was brewing. More and more questions kept bubbling and burning. No conclusion appeared in sight, as if to be absent for days turned into weeks, into months, into years, into a lifetime of deceit.

So, Felix stood at the door of the only other person whom he trusted enough to share his plight. Although, it was funny, how dependent he had grown on Chan, as to share something so sentimental. But it felt so refreshing to have another that he could trust. One with more experience. One that had pledged his allegiance in the best way that Felix could ever think of; keeping such a secret without blackmail.

Felix knocked on the door of the motel room, bouncing on his heels. Seconds passed and he knocked again, glancing at the watch on his wrist; just a half hour past twelve. There was more of a chance of Chan being fast asleep or using the bathroom than out at that time. So, Felix brought a hand forward to knock once more. But the door opened before he could reach, and Felix gasped, lips parted, eyes dropped down to Chan's unclothed torso and bare legs.

Rows of hair sprung thick around his thighs, down to his ankles, and Felix gulped, biting on his inner cheek scoldingly to avoid the linger of his gaze on the elder's boxers. He shut his eyes and turned his head, goosebumps painting his skin when Chan's throaty chuckle met his ears.

"Sorry," Chan rasped, "force of habit. Is there... something you need?"

Felix's words got caught in his throat as he managed to look at Chan again. And then his labored breaths settled, allowing for the recognition of liquor by his nostrils. No wonder Chan made no effort to cover himself up like he had done the last time. Felix swallowed a chuckle, glancing over Chan's shoulder and slightly frowning at the sight of a woman's head underneath Chan's bedsheets.

Her hair was plaited into cornrows, her eyes wide in anticipation. Felix looked away, piecing the puzzle with Chan's half-naked state. A pang of jealousy, he was sure of it, knocked on the door of his preoccupied heart. But he couldn't let it in. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on it. Chan was a grown man with his own agenda in the foreign land so, Felix knew that he had no say in Chan's private life.

Although he wanted to.

The jealousy slipped through a crack in the door and his heart stung and his nostrils flared, and he wished, for all that it was worth, that he could pretend that Chan was his and get the unfamiliar yet beautiful maiden out of there. But of course, Felix knew better. Knew that Chan was not his and would never be. Knew that Chan's selflessness had a limit not worth discovering.

Not that he desired Chan or anything of such. It was just the idea of another desiring Chan that was unpleasant.

"There is something that I wanted to speak with you about," Felix said, looking Chan in the eyes. "Just needed some advice on something. But it's alright. I realize that you're... occupied."

"I'd never be too occupied for you, Felix," Chan spoke clearly, despite the scent betraying his coherence. He looked over his shoulder and winked at his temporary partner, the same Elizabeth from three nights before. "Why don't you come back? In two hours, I'll be yours. Works for you?"

"Yes," Felix nodded, "thank you. I will—I'll see you in two hours."

+ + + + +

14:45

It was the anxiety, but Felix could have sworn that the two-hour intermission before returning to Chan's motel felt like six. His head hurt with every minute that passed, and he felt grateful for his little sister's company when about an hour was remaining. She'd asked that her big brother assists in making a list of the items that she was still missing to be prepared for school.

And it was then that Felix remembered that he had university restarting in under two weeks. But he didn't complain; needed the distraction of schoolwork; not at all the field of his choice but, he'd manage. At least, he had a piano at home to momentarily quench the thirst for fulfilling his true passion for music.

Felix sighed as he knocked on Chan's door, smiling slightly at the speed at which it opened. And there Chan stood, sweet perfume bouncing from the dampened spots of his navy-blue polo shirt. Felix blushed at the welcoming grin flaunting the older man's dimples, as well as the same novel that he had recognized the last time in his hand; one finger holding it open.

"Hello," Felix greeted bashfully, stepping into the cozy space when Chan shifted to the side. "Thank you for making time for me," he said. "I really appreciate it. And again... sorry for... disturbing you earlier."

"You've got nothing to apologize for," Chan assured, sitting at the edge of his bed and pointing toward the small chair that he had placed a few feet in front, for Felix to sit. For them to be able to look each other in the eyes whilst Felix spoke his heart. For Chan to admire him; errant, yet shamelessly. "What's on your mind?"

Felix wasn't too sure how to start. He sat down, looking around, chewing on his lip as he'd always done in times of disquietude. With a deep inhale he finally mustered up the courage to look Chan in the eyes, expecting to cower. Expecting to lose all form of the willpower that had carried him to that position in the first place.

But Felix had never felt more at ease when he met Chan's eyes. It was as though Chan reached out a hand past Felix's pupil and diluted his anxiety. As if Chan's relaxed features proposed a convincing bill that Felix's find a way to mirror his. Felix's shoulders slumped as he leaned back in his seat, his teeth freed his lip, and his breaths tempered back into an involuntary pattern.

"Have you ever been in love with someone?" Felix began with the question, wishing to prime the air for his truth. "I mean-- truly loved."

"Yes," Chan said, and he shrugged, although Felix was almost certain of the pained frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I have been in love. But life had a different course, so things did not work out as I had planned. Why do you ask?"

"Have you ever fallen out of love with someone?"

Chan wasn't a daft man. He was fully aware of where Felix was headed with that interrogation. In fact, Chan had been expecting that conversation; found it to be delayed, if he were being honest. Because from the beginning, Felix's dubiety was stripped before his eyes. Chan could so easily tell that Felix did not love this Jisung fellow.

The glint in Felix's eyes was absent whenever he spoke about this young man. A smile was literally never worn whenever Jisung's name was mentioned between them. The love that Felix claimed they shared was always avoided in discussions, and opportunities to sing Jisung's praises were always discarded by Felix.

And Chan was a man who had experienced the touch of true love. His heart had walked along the path of the burning stars of the sky and alas, he'd been a victim of the weakness of the shooting star of a heart. He'd gone limp at the hand of another who had fallen out of love, simply because of unforeseen circumstances that life had left on his doorstep as a baby squalling to be tended to.

And so, he had tended.

He was tending.

It was just a pity that situations sometimes grow untenable.

"This is about Jisung," Chan stated firmly, leaning forward with hands pressed on his thighs. "I'm proud that you've finally decided to accept the cry of your heart. I assume you've come for advice on what you should do. Considering all that he's done for you."

Felix could hardly believe that Chan could read him so well. He choked up, sniffing, brushing a finger underneath his eyes to keep the tears from streaming down his face. "Do you always read people so well?" He asked.

"No. Just those I care about," Chan replied without much thought. "If it's eating you up inside this much, Felix, I advise that you come clean. You speak to him, in love. Apologize for the way you feel, despite your lack of control," he sighed. "A broken heart wounds, but it does not kill, unless one lets it. And that would never be your fault."

"But what if—what if he threatens to expose everything that went on? What if he decides to use our past against me?"

"Then do it whilst I'm in the country, Felix. And if he attempts such a thing, then I will defend you." Chan smiled with his confident speech; eyes still locked with Felix's. He could allow himself to get lost in there, if he wanted to. To swim in the river of his brown irises without a care in the world. To let go of reality and bask in the serenity that came with just being in Felix's presence.

He didn't quite know what it was, although certain that he had felt it before.

"How can you live with such little care?" Felix asked, and smiled, small, teary. He felt more relieved than he could claim in such a long time, it was almost unbelievable. Almost incredible how safe he felt in the presence of Chan Bang. "How long do you plan on staying in France, anyway? I even thought you'd have left already."

"We only have one life, Felix. And we never know how much time we have at it. So, the very least that we can do is to enjoy the present and make our life somewhat worth it." Chan looked down at the floor, thinking, before continuing. "I might be in Paris for another month or two," he said. "It's my first time out of the country. I want to make the most of it. Learn some things from another culture, another language."

"Alright. Well, I'm happy about that. I've sort of grown on you," Felix laughed, and so did Chan, tiredness evident as creases around his eyes. "I will come clean... very soon... in the best way that I can."

"I'm proud of you, Felix."

"What for? I haven't even taken a step yet."

"For being you," Chan hummed, hands positioned on either side of his body, gazing intently at Felix just as before. "For accepting your truth. For not completely suffocating yourself because of others' expectations of you. I am immensely proud of you."

A tear fell, and Felix stood to hug Chan with all his might, face nuzzled into his neck, wings erupting in his stomach when Chan's broader arms hesitantly yet earnestly wrapped around his torso. And Felix had never felt so at home, ever in his nineteen years of living.

And Chan hadn't felt the will to live wrap around his bones so tight, in too long of a time. He missed it, but didn't.

Yearned for it, but feared it.

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