Page 13 of Solo Stan

Elias

Alone in his new apartment and feeling restricted by Moodie’s new rules, Elias replayed the day.

He hadn’t meant to use Dakarai to get back at Moodie; it just sort of happened that way.

And it wasn’t like all of it was disingenuous.

He did want to be Dakarai’s friend. Though there was no way they could be friends if they couldn’t break bread together. Could vegans even eat bread?

Elias’s gaze fell on his bag. He’d folded Dakarai’s drawing and shoved it in there, unable to bring himself to look at it after making such a fuss. But he supposed he should. How could he face Dakarai at work the next day if he couldn’t face a piece of paper?

Unzipping his backpack, Elias carefully pulled out Dakarai’s drawing and opened it up.

His mouth immediately dropped open. At first glance, it was like a black-and-white photograph.

Each line was deliberate and precise, and the cross-hatching created so much depth, particularly in the eyes.

Somehow, even in pencil, the drawing seemed to hold warmth and reflect light.

The fact that Dakarai was able to see him this clearly made him feel exposed.

Dakarai had pretended to be disinterested all day, but something like this couldn’t lie.

Elias groaned and let the drawing flutter to the ground, but he already missed looking at it. Snatching the paper from the floor as quickly as it fell, he turned it in every direction, examining it at every angle. It was perfect, yet Elias couldn’t help but think, Where the fuck are my…?

His eyes slowly widened in realization. The line work and technique were much more defined and had obviously matured, but Elias recognized that art style immediately.

He and William had taken Nia to the park near Moodie’s house the last time he was in North Carolina.

Elias had been watching his little sister while William was on his phone.

When it was time to go home, he had to dispose of any evidence that he had allowed Nia to eat ice cream before dinner.

The trash cans were overflowing, and when Elias tried to balance the wrappers on top, a couple of things rolled off the pile, including what looked to be a drawing.

He had wondered why anyone would throw away something like that.

Elias had picked up the crumpled paper and unfolded it to find a sketch of himself. He turned in a circle, searching for the artist, but the park was empty. Elias glanced back at the bench where he had been sitting, realizing it was the perfect vantage point for whoever had drawn him.

He had wondered the same thing back then at the park as he did right now in Moodie’s apartment: “Where are my dimples?”

He closed his eyes, and an afterimage of that picture appeared in his mind.

Elias had always possessed a photographic memory, so the image was as clear as the day he’d first seen it.

When he opened his eyes again, it was as if the past had superimposed itself onto the present, and he became certain that the same hand had drawn both portraits.

The paper was weighty and rough against Elias’s skin. He absentmindedly moved it between his fingertips, cursing aloud when he ripped a corner of it. He had never learned to be gentle. His finger slid into the tear, widening it.

Whatever, he thought. I’ve never needed anyone before, and I don’t need anyone now.

Frustration surged through Elias. Before he realized what he was doing, he angrily tore the drawing in half. He crushed it into a ball and threw it into a corner of the barren room.

“Why did I have so much caffeine today?” He felt like he could hear his hair growing. He had energy to burn, yet there was absolutely nothing to do in this quiet little town, and he didn’t know anyone.

“Fuck a curfew,” he grumbled to himself after a short while. “I’m getting out of here.”

Elias wandered into the night using only his memory of the last time he had been in town—up two blocks, right at the last sweetgum tree, then another three blocks until he reached a rusted bench, behind which was the bus station.

Hm, maybe I should check on Nia, he thought.

“What do you want?” Nia asked, not bothering to move the phone so he could see her entire face. He was stuck looking up her nose while she continued playing video games.

“I don’t want nothing from you, big head,” he replied. “I’m going to a concert, and it’s creepy as hell at this bus stop.”

“You scared?”

“Mind your business,” Elias retorted, puffing out his chest. “How are Mom and Dad?”

“Your mother is getting on my last nerve. She keeps crying, talking about ‘my baby’ this and ‘my baby’ that.”

“Who is she talking about?”

“You!” Nia said, like it was supposed to be obvious. “You know good and well she doesn’t call me or Will her baby. You’re her favorite.”

Elias expressed his disapproval with a tongue click. “If this is how she treats her favorite, how the hell does she treat you?”

“Better than you treat Will.” Elias fell silent as Nia continued, “Why are you even asking about them? I thought you’d be having the time of your life out there.”

Nia’s voice was grating on his ears, but he didn’t want it to stop, because the silence would be too loud. “I miss home,” he breathed.

“You don’t sound like you. You good?”

“I’m good. Just don’t tell Mom and Dad we spoke, okay?” he said. “My bus is here, so get off my phone. Behave yourself.”

“Who are you talking to? You behave. And talk to Will. He misses you. We all do.”

“I’ll…think about it. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nia replied.

Elias hung up. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

In line with his bus ticket, Elias waited impatiently for it to be scanned on his phone, then he boarded the mostly empty bus.

It shook violently as it sat idle, its engine churning like a growling stomach awaiting its fill of passengers.

He went all the way to the rear and stretched out in one of the rows, leaning his head against the window and propping his feet up on the seats next to him.

He pulled his black bucket hat down over his eyes and then put his AirPods in.

If we kiss once, we can’t take it back

But if we kiss this once, I can kiss you again

Let’s make another mistake

The first mistake is already made

Elias would be tired for work the next day. Whatever. I’ll just ditch tomorrow, Elias thought. Why do I even care? If Moodie was going to judge him so harshly anyway, then he might as well fill the role of the villain.

With only about ten minutes left of the drive, Elias checked his email containing his ticket so he could enter the address into GPS.

Seeing as he was already late for the concert, he didn’t want to waste any more time.

He only hoped that the opening act would run long.

As he scrolled through the email, his eyes happened to fall on the bag policy.

Clear Plastic, Vinyl, or PVC Bags Not Exceeding 12” X 6” X 12” Are Allowed.

Elias eyed his black leather messenger bag, which was decidedly not very clear. If it were, everyone would be able to see his Swiss Army knife key chain and his outside food and drink, two things that were also not permitted in the venue.

He rented a locker at the bus station. He took inventory of his bag before leaving it behind—keys, some snacks for his return trip, a book to pass the time, and a few other odds and ends. The only things he really needed for the concert were his wallet and phone.

On the way to the venue, people kept smiling at him.

And it wasn’t those polite tight-lipped smiles that people sometimes gave in New York when you accidentally made eye contact, but they were genuine smiles like they were actually happy or something.

He would have to get used to that. He had never had so many people greet him in his life; he was starting to feel like Siri.

Approaching the sparkling retro building, he took a quick picture before handing over his phone to get his ticket scanned.

He was already about an hour late, so security didn’t hassle him too much.

The lobby was empty except for a few stragglers who probably drank too much too quickly and were dashing to the bathroom.

The bass of the concert boomed in Elias’s chest as he reached his section on the loge level.

When the usher drew back the thick red velvet curtain so that he could enter, the full force of the music hit him, and his eyes immediately widened as he realized he was going to have to cut through all this chaos to reach his seat.

He looked to the usher for help, but they just gave a simple shrug that said, You’re on your own.

Using his phone as a flashlight, he shined it on the floor to find his row.

He tried to be mindful of people’s feet and their belongings at first, but the number of dirty looks and shoves he got was starting to sour his mood.

He barreled through, hoping that he could just get it over with and no one would retaliate against him later.

The numbers on the seats were no longer visible, but there was one open spot in the middle of the next row.

Once he reached the seat, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the boy in the seat next to him was already looking at him.

Dakarai?

He racked his brain trying to make sense of the situation.

He prepared to ask what the hell he was doing there, but a sudden bang startled him, and he stumbled over a purse on the ground.

Dakarai reached out and grasped Elias around the elbow, stopping him from tumbling down the tiered rows of seats.

When he regained his footing, he quickly pushed Dakarai away, embarrassed.

Aware that Dakarai still didn’t recognize him, he took off his hat and turned toward the light.

A spark of recognition immediately lit up Dakarai’s features.

All he said was “What the fuck?” before a sudden blackout enveloped the entire venue.

Elias was sure he screamed, and he was sure it was loud, yet his voice got lost in the instant panic of the thousands of other people filling the space.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, the familiar fear of darkness taking hold of him.

He’d never felt as exposed as he did in that cold, echoing room.

His eyes flew open again, and, for a split, frightful second, he forgot why he couldn’t see and panicked, clinging to the nearest thing to him, which happened to be Dakarai.

He immediately pulled away, but he felt a tug on his arm, and he stumbled forward, inhaling sharply as he found himself resting against Dakarai’s chest.

“Stop moving, or you’ll trip again,” Dakarai ordered, slightly annoyed, the bass of his voice ringing in Elias’s ear. Elias flinched, startled by how close Dakarai’s mouth was, goose bumps erupting all down his neck.

The room was so cold, but Dakarai’s body was so warm. Elias tried to breathe normally, but his chest heaved, and he was sure his heart was beating out of control as he felt Dakarai curling his fingers into his back through his shirt, pulling him even closer.

Elias’s body relaxed, and, at least for the moment, he wasn’t afraid of the dark.