Page 33 of We May Be Fractured

A Bit of Australia

[Now playing ? Shot at the Night—The Killers]

T he week passed in a blur for Aaron, with Landon a constant distraction in his day.

Besides their commutes, lunches, and planned cigarette breaks between shifts at the tattoo shop and RPM, Landon seemed to be everywhere—behind the kitchen counter after Aaron’s morning runs, outside the bathroom in the steamy aftermath of his showers, and in the stillness of the night whenever he needed a breath of fresh air.

It was getting hard to tell if it was all coincidence or if Aaron was becoming super tuned in to Landon’s presence. Their lives and routines were meshing together more often than not. And it wasn’t just about being in the same place. Landon had taken up residence in Aaron’s mind too.

Part of him wondered if he should act on these feelings. But then, the reality check. He’d be off to Australia soon. He’d even rebooked his flight after Tom confirmed a spot for him at the wildlife park. What was the point in diving into something bound to be short-lived?

Yet, with each passing day, the thought of leaving Landon behind felt less like a simple fact and more like a regret. Aaron wrestled with this nagging what-if, unable to shake it, even amidst RPM’s festive buzz.

Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blasted through the speakers, courtesy of Fell’s choice on the turntable. Aaron, knee-deep in vinyl records, shuffled them for probably the umpteenth time that morning; nothing seemed right.

He’d step back, squint at the setup, then dive back in, rearranging the albums.

Fell perched on the counter, feet tapping in time with the music. “Hey, Aaron,” he called out. “You’ve seemed a bit off since lunch. Everything all right?”

Aaron didn’t respond, only glanced up as he continued arranging the records.

“Is this about you and Landon sleeping together?”

That got Aaron’s attention. One of the records slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. “Great, so the whole world knows,” he muttered, more to himself. He picked up the record and clutched it like a shield, still crouching.

Fell stifled a laugh. “Well, it wasn’t exactly top secret, you know. Ria and I saw you guys sneak off to the summer house. You never came back.”

“Nothing happened,” Aaron clarified tightly.

“Hey, no judgement here. Just saying it’s nice, you know, if there’s something going on between you two.”

Aaron straightened up, the record still in his arms. “There is no ‘us’,” he said firmly.

“Is that because you guys talked it out, or are you not into an ‘us’?

“I don’t have time for this. It’s nothing, really. We didn’t do anything, only…shared a bed, that’s all.”

Fell gave him a knowing look. “Yeah, okay. But it’s pretty obvious you’re both into each other.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Seriously, Aaron? Are you trying to be dense, or what?”

Their eyes locked, and in a flash, he was right back under one of Aunt Olivia’s stern scowls, the kind that always made him second-guess himself.

“Let me put it simply,” Fell continued. “You like like Landon, right?”

His feelings for Landon were messier than the album display he was trying to rearrange, something he couldn’t shove into neat little boxes labelled ‘yes’ or ‘no’. He picked at the cardboard cover, tiny bits of paper sticking to his skin. “How can you tell when you like like someone?”

Fell slid off the counter and stepped closer.

He gently took the record from Aaron and placed it back on the shelf.

“Well, for starters, you can’t stop thinking about them.

And every little thing they do seems to matter more than it should.

” He glanced out the window at the clothing shop across the street.

Aaron had a hunch Fell’s thoughts had drifted to its owner, the woman who often shared coffee and muffins with him.

“And when she— they’re near you, it’s like the fizz and pop of a soft drink, happening inside your stomach. ”

Aaron wrinkled his nose at the analogy but didn’t interrupt. He’d used ice cream while talking with Ria, so he wasn’t in a position to judge.

“When you meet the right person, there’s this unique connection, an understanding beyond words.”

Aunt Olivia’s talks about finding ‘the right one’ surfaced, the idea of a soulmate who could change everything. Aaron had never bought into that crap, and he certainly didn’t see Landon as ‘the one’. Yet, he couldn’t ignore their bond and the unspoken understanding they’d built over time.

“You and Landon, there’s clearly something there,” Fell pressed on.

“And Landon—he’s a good chap. He’s very passionate about his tattoo job and puts everything into it.

Heck, he even convinced me to get this at thirty-two.

” Fell lifted his jeans leg to show off a small music note in Landon’s style.

“Just think about it, Aaron. How often do you find someone you click with? When you stumble upon that kind of connection, walking away isn’t easy. Does Landon make you feel that way?”

Fell’s question echoed in Aaron’s head throughout his shift.

Later, when he saw Landon waiting for him outside the shop, his stomach didn’t fizz and pop as Fell had described, more like a popcorn machine on overdrive.

Wrapped up against the nose-freezing cold, Landon stood there, peering into his phone, his face barely visible beneath a snug scarf and beanie.

“Hey,” Aaron greeted, his breath forming clouds in the frosty air between them.

Landon looked up and offered a muffled, “Hey,” back through the scarf. Annoyance flickered across his eyes as he pocketed his phone.

After a moment of silence, Landon’s phone started buzzing. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen with irritation and resignation, then quickly silenced it and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Everything okay?”

“Just spam,” Landon replied. “Fancy a walk?”

Aaron nodded, welcoming the chance to spend a bit more time with him, even though the temperature had dipped close to zero. The crisp December air hinted at the possibility of a rare snowy Christmas in London.

As they strolled down the windy towpath of Regent’s Canal towards King’s Cross, they passed several boats moored along the way. One stood out—an old vessel converted into a floating bookshop, bearing the sign Word on the Water .

“Want to check it out?” Landon asked, already halfway up the ramp. “Mind your head,” he warned as they ducked down the stairs.

Inside, the boat felt like an old pirate ship filled with treasures. But instead of gold, it held books. Owl figurines and vintage typewriters added to the charm.

“Quirky, isn’t it?” Landon said, browsing the shelves.

“This place is sick. How’d you find it?”

“Ria’s a regular here. She comes for her poetry club.” Landon picked up a book and flipped through it before giving it a sniff.

“So, this is where you come for your…victims?”

Landon laughed. “Something like that. They have a great selection, especially the classics.” He showed Aaron a well-worn copy of The Hobbit .

“A Tolkien fan, huh?” Aaron eyed The Lord of the Rings on a shelf nearby and picked it up for a quick scan.

“I hope you’ve read these, not just watched the films,” Landon said in a teasing tone.

Aaron raised his hands. “Guilty.”

“Shame on you.”

Eventually, they found themselves on the recently vacated sofa by the window, sitting side by side.

Aaron leaned forward to peer out at the canal, its dark water shimmering with the reflections of nearby lights.

He turned to Landon, absorbed in his book. “Spending the evening here?”

Landon snapped the book shut. “Got something else in mind, actually.”

Aaron’s pulse quickened. “Like what?”

Landon stood. “Follow me.”

Back on the canal path, Aaron snuggled deeper into his jacket, his face still at the mercy of the biting wind. It nipped at his nose and cheeks, sharp and relentless.

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

“You shall see.” Landon’s eyebrows hinted at a hidden smile behind his scarf.

Aaron followed, intrigued. But when they arrived at the entrance to the London Zoo, he looked questioningly at Landon, who simply grinned and led the way inside.

They walked past enclosures that resembled mini safaris containing zebras, giraffes, and warthogs—a slice of Africa in London.

Approaching the wallabies, Landon gestured towards them. “Here, a bit of Australia for you.”

Aaron observed the hopping creatures, his smile widening.

Landon jokingly added, “See? You don’t need to fly across the world for a taste of the wild.”

That comment filled Aaron with a warm, happy glow.

Their adventure continued into the Reptile House, then they marvelled at the tigers and lions but laughed hardest at the monkey exhibit, especially when one tried to nick Landon’s scarf, almost snagging it.

Landon pretended to be annoyed, but Aaron couldn’t stop laughing.

“They don’t give a monkey,” he joked.

In the bug house, they both tensed up at the sight of spiders looming in the tree branches over their heads. Neither of them was a fan. This might turn into a real problem in Australia.

“Watch out, there’s a humongous one above you,” Aaron teased.

“Maybe I’ll get bitten,” Landon replied playfully. “The world could use another mixed-race Spider-Man like Miles Morales.”

They joked and laughed at every opportunity. For Aaron, it all felt like a journey back to a childhood he’d never fully experienced, one filled with wonder and freedom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so light and carefree.

At the flamingo enclosure, Aaron even learned something new.

“ Flamingos are born dull grey, and then they turn pink ,” he read aloud.

Landon snapped a photo with the flamingo fact sign in the background and tagged Nyle in it, captioning, Be a flamingo in a world full of pigeons .