Fireflies

 

Fireflies

 

‘I’d like to make myself believe, that planet Earth turns, slowly.’

 

Noel and Gideon sat on the sloping grass bank of the river in silence. It was late, later than they’d first thought, but they didn’t move. Looking out over the water the pair could see the lights of their town reflected from some distance away – dancing with the swells of water, distorting the images before them the harder they stared.

 

Chilly outside had been an understatement that morning on the Weather forecast, as Gideon watched his breath colour the air white. He often wondered why anyone paid any attention to Weather forecasts, except in extreme cases like Hurricanes. It was rarely right, and yet everyone put such stock in ‘watching the weather forecast’. It was beyond him, a concept invented by parents and those of authority to think they could control everything around them – know the future before their time. Sure, it was a very small example, a mundane thing really, but, nevertheless, he saw the hunger for it. For knowledge.

 

It was November, typically chilly – or more close to freezing – and the hairs on his arms stood up rigidly in protest and he sorely wished he’d bothered with a coat earlier in the evening. But, he hadn’t thought about it. Instead, he’d gone to a party, alcohol taking presidency over carrying a jacket. He was stupid to be talked into things like this, every time, always by Noel. There were times when Gideon wanted to be more than who he was – more than the boy who wore skinnies and a Led Zepplin T-shirt. More than someone who scored and moved on. He wasn’t asking to be a sap, or a geek, he just wanted a little more. He always told himself it must be security, and it probably was, he just wouldn’t know for sure.

 

Noel flopped back against the grass, stretching his legs out in front of him with a sigh of contentment. Gideon just didn’t get it, how Noel was so carefree, so full of life, and yet there was something important missing when he met his gaze. There was never any depth to it. Nothing below the surface, and nothing he could trust.

He held his watch up to his face to see the time better – 03:33 – and glared at the date flashing next to it. The 19^th. The damned 19^th. It was his 18^th birthday today, and day thought to be important to most, but not to him. Just another day to be what he wasn’t, a look out upon what he wanted but couldn’t define. He flirted with the idea of whether he was depressed, but he doubted it, all he was was a realist.

 

Noel looked up at him quietly, seeing the internal struggle Gideon was having. He watched, pretending to not notice, every day. He took in what he saw and stored it away until the day he’d finally need it. Now, he stared at the boy, remembering the facial features; the bright green eyes, jagged cheekbones mature before he was, the nose small for most guys but not girlish, long eyelashes, brace-straight teeth, eyebrow piercing. He watched as Gideon chewed on his already broken nails, the black varnish peeling off gradually. He was definitely something else in a line of people who wanted to be different but became part of a trend.

Noel himself, sandy blond, tanned, soft grey eyes, was nothing like the type you’d expect to hang out with Gideon. He was taller, more muscular, better looking technically, according to taste. He was popular, he was funny, and charming, and empty. There wasn’t anything he could do to change what he was, just be, just watch and remember what living was truly like.

 

Gideon stared up at the sky, listening as the muddied water sloshed against its natural banks, making its way to freedom and the sea. It was a soothing noise, when you didn’t look at the dark,  dirty water. It was a nice place when you didn’t think about the things that could happen at three am in November. Especially, near London. Anything could happen. He didn’t want to think about the terrible things that may have happened. He hoped they hadn’t and wouldn’t. It was a day when you thought about what you wanted, what you didn’t have, who you were. It was one of those times that too much alcohol made them wise. At least a little bit.

 

It wasn’t the fact it was cold, or that they’d been drinking that made them talk. It wasn’t what had happened to them when they were younger, and they didn’t talk about their traumatic pasts, why they were the way they were. It wasn’t anything so complex, it was simple. Or, it was so simple it was the most complicated thing you could imagine. It wasn’t depression that made Gideon speak, it was something unidentifiable, which came to him from nowhere, which doesn’t exist, made from nothing, which isn’t possible. It was a whim, a train of thought changing direction too fast to keep up with. It was something so shallow, and so deep it makes the blood run cold to contemplate. It was something there, but not. A photon, one thing and another – simultaneous, ridiculous, incomprehensible on certain levels and perfect in makings.

 

“Is this just how it is?” Gideon asked, quietly. The kind of question you are never sure you said aloud after you did. It’s in your mind, in the air, and you can’t remember if you uttered it until someone answers.

Noel closed his eyes and smiled to himself. The look on Gideon’s face, the intensity. “Is what just how it is?” He replied, crossing his arms over his stomach lazily.

Gideon’s fringe was subjected to mutilation as he ran his fingers through the dyed locks, almost the same colour as the night sky. Almost. “Is this all we are?”

Noel shrugged, “Alone? Cold? Alive?”

“Yeah. Are we…just how we are?”

He smiled, rolling over onto his stomach and staring at Gideon intently, “Yes, it is. We are what we are, we always will be. But, we’re never just one thing.”

“What do you mean?”

Noel chuckled, it was a deep melodic sound, and for some reason it put Gideon at ease slightly. “I mean…if we can’t understand, or examine what it is we are…we’re not just one thing. There are so many parts to every person. And, I mean inside, not like a centipede.”

“So…we’re really physics-y?” Gideon asked, uncertainly.

“That’s one way of putting it, yeah.”

 

There was a silence for several moments where the two boys just stared at one another, contemplating the conversation. It made no sense, and yet it did.

 

“If we are what we are…we may as well be what we are. Enjoy it, I mean. No point bothering to hide it, right?” Noel said almost to himself more than anything else.

As if reassured of his very self, without knowing what it was, Gideon grinned. “Definitely.”

“We might not understand, but we do everything for an impulsive, subconscious reason. Call it what you will – fate, a chosen path, free will…the roll of the dice. Let’s just go with it, yeah?” He smiled back.

“You know…everything’s so complicated.”

 

Noel got up, walking down to the very river edge and looked out across it. Gideon followed after a few minutes, standing by his friend in complete, companionable silence.

Over the water, small specks of light began to appear, almost unnoticeable at first, then growing, their intensity increasing. The numbers multiplied until it water looked as if a huge party were going on above it, as it reflected it back to the boys. They stared in confusion at the lights that buzzed and swirled around their heads and ankles. Before they knew it they were cocooned in soft yellow light, draped like fairy-lights on a Christmas tree, constantly moving and chiming ethereally.

Fascinated, Gideon and Noel looked about themselves until their gazes met. They were both grinning like children, fools even. The moment was a strange, but beautiful one. The looked like tiny fireflies spinning their way around them. And, for a moment, the Earth did turn slowly to them. It wasn’t something they’d thought about, or ever known. It was there, and not at the same time. They didn’t swap sob stories, they didn’t share their lives in moments. It was far more simple, it was far more perfect, and it was far more human.

 

Noel drew away from Gideon after several moments, his lips tingled, his fingers buzzed and his heart skipped a beat. He was the popular boy, he was the over-achiever, the golden boy, and he felt happy. His eyes lit up for the first time. For the first time there was something there. And, he kissed him again. As the world turned slowly, and the light kept spinning. Because it wasn’t there, and the world didn’t actually slow. But, it did for them. 

 

There are times in our lives when we think things we shouldn’t, or break the rules. We hurt ourselves, and others. The living part is in the learning, making mistakes and growing, from being who we are without questioning it. There are times when we realise we made the wrong choice and can’t change what we’ve done. Or, things we know are wrong, and yet they please us – they make us feel whole again. That’s the thing about being broken that everyone understands – we all do the wrong thing sometimes, even if it’s the best thing that ever happens to us. Sometimes we risk it all on just one thing, and it turns out to be right, it helps us grow, we learn from it, and we live.

 

They weren’t something from nothing, they weren’t just a moment. They were the beginning, the end and they were perfect without knowing it. They didn’t need the words, they didn’t need the stories. It was there and it wasn’t. It was their world, and a million others in one. And, theirs turned slowly for them.