Page 25 of We May Be Fractured

That left Aaron with Landon and Ria.

She turned to him as she leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her face resting in her hands. “So, Aaron, how’s the shop treating you?” she asked, her high cheekbones more pronounced in her pose.

“Good,” Aaron answered shortly, not feeling like going into details.

He started fiddling with a splinter sticking out of the table.

From the very first moment he met Ria, something about her put him on edge.

It could have been her constant chirpiness or the way her voice sounded too smooth, unnerving to him.

Her warmth and attention seemed like foreign concepts, so unlike the stares and whispers he was more accustomed to.

Ria didn’t press him further. She turned to Landon instead, striking up a conversation about tattoos and some TV show Aaron hadn’t seen yet.

Fell returned, balancing a round of drinks. Aaron grabbed his beer and took a hefty swig, trying to shake off his unease. His attention drifted to the stage, where a singer had started up a new song. He almost chuckled when he recognized the track—“Jumper.” Quite apt for the night.

As the music filled the room and chatter picked up around him, Aaron zoned out, playing with his beer label. It was only when Landon pointed out the little paper fragments scattered on the table that he realised what he was doing.

“People actually get paid to design these, you know,” Landon remarked.

“Then maybe they should make them tougher,” Aaron quipped, trying to deflect.

“You seem tense. Everything all right?”

That took Aaron aback. He hadn’t expected Landon to pick up on his unease. Was he that obvious, or was it Landon perceptiveness?

Fell gestured towards the stage. “What do you think, Aaron? Enjoying the music?”

“Yeah, it’s not bad,” he replied, quickly rubbing his hands on his jeans to get rid of the sticky residue. He had to admit, the live music made for a nice change of pace, and the artist was genuinely good.

But as the night wore on, Aaron became less absorbed in the music and more in watching Landon and Ria, scrutinising their every interaction for clues. He couldn’t figure out what their deal was.

Their lack of physical contact struck him most; nothing hinted at anything more than friendship between them.

In contrast, Fell constantly found reasons to get close to Ria—a pat on the back, brushing past her to hand her a drink, leaning in to talk over the music.

To Aaron, Fell seemed more connected with her than Landon, who kept shooting wary glances Aaron’s way.

After the last notes of the performance had died down, the group found themselves on the pavement next to the canal.

Fell said his goodbyes quickly, mentioning he’d head off in the direction of Camden Town station. Meanwhile, Ria had her Uber waiting at the kerb. After a brief farewell and Landon’s reminder for her to text once she was home, she departed.

Then, it was just Aaron and Landon.

Landon peered first at the water, then turned to Aaron. “How about a stroll along Regent’s Canal?” he suggested. “We can catch the northern line from King’s Cross.”

Aaron, kicking a bottle cap ahead of him, nodded. The idea of a leisurely walk in the open air, away from the stuffiness of the Tube, appealed.

“Fancy grabbing a quick bite?” Landon gestured towards a nearby corner shop.

“Sounds good,” Aaron agreed, following him. They emerged shortly after with a bag of cheese tortilla chips and two cans of cola.

They crossed the bridge over the lock, then descended to the waterside path. At this late hour, the area was almost deserted, offering a calm respite from the day’s hustle and bustle.

They ambled past a group of tipsy girls perched on a wall, and as they continued along the canal path, the area became quieter, with just the odd passerby.

For a while, they walked in comfortable silence until Landon broke it.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, offering the open bag of crisps to Aaron.

Grabbing a handful, Aaron tasted a few. “It was good, actually. Live music’s got a different feel to it, doesn’t it?”

“What’s your kind of music then?”

“I’m not tied down to one genre, really. I’m pretty open to all sorts. The only exception is Nyle’s electronic stuff.” Aaron crunched on more crisps and washed them down with a swig of soda. “Can’t count the times I’ve wanted to chuck his speaker out the window.”

“Be my guest.” Landon chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement. “Still, that’s nothing compared to the sappy love songs he plays on repeat after every heartbreak.”

“Never paid much attention to those. Some can be quite moving though.”

“Yeah, they do have a way of hitting you right in the feels.”

Aaron nodded, understanding all too well. Melancholic tunes had been his go-to in tough times, a balm when everything else felt too heavy. “You reckon?”

“Definitely,” Landon affirmed. He paused and sat down by the canal, crossing his legs.

Aaron settled beside him. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How we listen to sad songs when we’re feeling down?”

“Yeah, but it makes sense when you think about it.” Landon’s gaze wandered to the grand, column-lined villa across the canal.

“Music’s like a friend for tough times. When you’re feeling low, you want something that resonates with that, something that gets it.

Sometimes, it’s hard to express how rubbish you’re feeling.

But a song can find those words for you. ”

Aaron nodded in agreement, finishing off the last of the crisps. “So why tattoo? Ever thought about doing something with music? You know, like working at RPM with Fell?”

Landon sighed, turning back to Aaron. “I did consider it, but drawing’s always been my thing. I like turning what’s in my head into something tangible.”

“I used to draw a lot when I was a kid,” Aaron admitted. “I had loads of sketches, made my own little comics even.” He paused, the memory of his mother discarding his artwork resurfacing with a sting of bitterness. “But then I got into other stuff and left it behind.”

“You should pick it up again, maybe even turn one of your drawings into a tattoo.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Aaron scratched his head. “Speaking of tattoos, you have a lot of them, especially on your arms. Did you design those yourself?”

Landon nodded, lightly touching his arm. “Most of them.”

“Mind if I take a closer look?”

Landon rubbed his arm. “They’re not the best, just some early ideas.”

Aaron suspected they were more impressive than Landon let on, but he didn’t push it. “Which one are you proudest of?”

After a pause, Landon pointed to the small bone tattoo on his middle finger.

Aaron laughed. “What’s that for, flipping people off?”

“Exactly. And, you know, giving death the finger.”

Aaron mumbled sceptically. If only it were that simple to ward off death.

“Ever thought about getting one?” Landon asked.

Aaron touched his chest, over his scars. “I like them on others but not for myself. They’re too permanent.”

“Nothing’s permanent. Tattoos leave when we do.”

“Cheery thought.”

“Just being honest. But I get your point,” Landon said, then scratched behind his ear over a tiny star tattoo.

“Does that one mean something special?”

Landon stopped scratching. “Not every tattoo has to mean something.”

“But for you, I bet they do. That star behind your ear, for instance.”

Landon hesitated, then said softly, “It’s not just any star. It’s the North Star.”

“Why behind the ear?”

Landon half-smiled. “It’s like a talking cricket.”

As always, Landon had to be cryptic. Aaron leaned back and tilted his head to the night sky. A small dot shone easily among the clouds.

“Sirius.” He pointed at the star.

Landon squinted up. “Isn’t it Venus?”

“No, it’s common to mix them up. But it’s Sirius.”

Landon turned to him. “Are you messing with me?”

“I just know more than you.”

“So, you’re really into this astronomy stuff, with the Southern Lights and all?”

“Well, you have no idea what a bored kid with lots of time and books can do. After reading Peter Pan , I wanted to find Neverland.”

“The home of the lost boys.”

“Yes.”

“And did you find it?”

Aaron bit his cheek and gazed once again at the sky. “If I had, I wouldn’t be here.”

The sound of a can being crushed and the crinkle of the tortilla chips bag answered him.

Then, Landon responded with, “But you did find another lost boy,” before getting up and tossing the trash in a nearby bin.

As they ambled side by side along the canal, Aaron enjoyed the comforting warmth from Landon close by. They didn’t touch, but now and then, their shoulders brushed against each other.

Each time it happened, it sent a small, electric thrill through Aaron, like tiny sparks in the crisp night air that made the chilly breeze bearable.

Though subtle, those brushes stirred a closeness within Aaron he didn’t even know he yearned for. Without even realising it, he found himself inching a little closer to Landon with every step they took together.