Page 37 of We May Be Fractured

The Worst Best Kiss

[Now playing ? Apocalypse—Cigarettes After Sex]

A aron traced over Tori’s image on his phone screen. In the photo, her eyes sparkled with a hint of irritation, contrasting starkly with his own image, caught mid-laughter.

He was glad he’d never deleted it.

Tori always made a fuss about being ‘unphotogenic’, begging him to stop snapping her at random. Of course, for Aaron, that was more reason to do it. He loved sneaking in candid shots when she least expected it.

Their little game had led to a lot of photos and videos—all he had left to remember her by. It was getting harder each day to picture the little details of her face or to recall the exact sound of her voice.

He lingered on the image before flicking over to his recent calls. Holding the phone to his ear, Aaron waited for the song to finish, then started to speak.

“Hey, it’s me again. Just wanted to say I hope you’re doing all right, wherever you are, and that you’ve found your happy thought.”

He glanced out the window at the quiet Christmas day, the streets empty, everyone holed up inside for festive dinners.

“Guess what? I’m about to have Christmas dinner with Nyle, Landon, Luzanne, and her boyfriend.

It’s weird. Never thought I’d be spending Christmas like this, but here I am with people I never expected to get along with.

You’re the only one missing. Merry Christmas, Tori. ”

As Aaron disconnected, the floorboards outside his room squeaked.

Turning, he spotted Landon leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, one foot over the other.

Thanks to Nyle’s nagging, he’d finally succumbed to the festive spirit, rocking a Darth Vader Christmas jumper.

Not exactly what Nyle had in mind, but this was Landon’s nod to the holiday while sticking to his usual dark style.

The socks, though, adorned with baubles and mistletoe patterns, were on theme.

Aaron wore the Christmas Pokémon jumper from Aunt Olivia, the one with Pikachu making a snowman.

“So, did you wish Tori a Merry Christmas?” Landon asked.

Aaron grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It doesn’t seem right, you know? She shouldn’t be gone.”

“It isn’t something you can control.”

“But maybe I could’ve, should’ve…”

“Even if that’s true, it’s too late now. Replaying the past doesn’t change a thing. I know something about that.”

Aaron gave Landon a long look, understanding in his eyes and the same emptiness Aaron had noticed from the start, the one that, sadly, also filled his own. “Ever wish you had a normal, happy family?”

“Would be nice, wouldn’t it? But I figured out pretty quick that wishing doesn’t get you far. It’s about what you can do, not what you can’t.”

“So, we’re talking about changing the future here?”

“More like right now, the present.”

Aaron kept staring at him. The present felt unreal, warm, and smelled like roast turkey.

“Guys,” Nyle’s voice cut in from down the corridor. “This is not the time for a quickie. Dinner’s ready!”

*

C hristmas dinner turned out surprisingly nice—loads of food, French wine, Nyle explaining every tradition they had to follow, plus an absurd number of Christmas crackers for only the five of them.

Nyle and Jean had a heated discussion about food, particularly about the turkey. They debated whether it was authentic enough and why it was even a tradition. According to Jean, the French way of cooking it was supposedly superior. God, he was so annoying. To Aaron, food was just food.

When they’d finished dessert—and they’d been eating for hours—Aaron leaned back, patting his belly. He was stuffed, but in a good way. He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d had such a feast.

“Looks like dinner was a hit!” Nyle said, sitting across from him with a stack of paper crowns on his head. He’d jokingly called himself the ‘king of Christmas’, but he looked ridiculous. His jumper, flashing like a Christmas tree, didn’t help much either.

“Everything was spot on,” Aaron replied.

“I knew it would be,” Nyle boasted, tilting his head and almost losing a crown. “Used grandma’s recipes—she was the best cook.”

“How many Christmas meals have you had?” Landon asked Aaron from his end of the table. Unlike Nyle, his single crown added a touch of majesty.

“Uh, well, I never did a proper one with my family.”

“See,” Landon said to Nyle. “Don’t read too much into the praise from someone with no basis for comparison.”

“Hey,” Nyle shot back, “Luz liked it too! Right, darling?”

Luz, finishing her mince pie with a full mouth, replied, “They’re amazing. Taste like grandma’s, maybe even better!”

Nyle sent a smug look to Landon as if to say, Told you so .

“Luzanne can think what she likes,” Landon said. “I never knew what grandma’s mince pies tasted like anyway.”

The mood tensed up in a flash, so fragile a mere breath could shatter it.

“Why do you always make me feel like rubbish just because I stayed with the family, and you were fostered?” Luzanne snapped, her voice sharp. “Mum didn’t pretend to be your aunt for the first five years of your life. She even took you in for a bit, but as always, you messed it up.”

“That woman isn’t our mother just because we came from her womb. To me, she’s just someone who gave birth to me. You’re kidding yourself if you think otherwise.”

“So, I’m kidding myself thinking you’re my brother?”

“I’m not your brother.”

“No, you’re not. A brother would care about his sister. You love making me miserable.” With that, Luzanne stood abruptly, slamming her hands on the table, poised to storm out.

Aaron was about to leave as well, but Luzanne’s piercing look stopped him. The resemblance to Landon, especially her eyes, was uncanny; they were unmistakably siblings.

“Don’t leave, Aaron,” she said. “Better to know who you’re dealing with before it’s too late.”

“And who’s that?” he asked.

“A resentful cynic. Don’t expect Landon to care about anyone. He’s incapable of love.”

Aaron should’ve kept quiet, being the outsider in the house. But he was tired of the constant jabs at Landon, especially from his own sister.

“I’m not looking for anything from him. Like I’ve never expected anything from anyone. But I’m up for whatever he’s willing to offer.”

Luzanne’s face was a picture of brewing anger. With a huff, she headed for the stairs. “Well, good luck with that.”

Her stomping ended with her bedroom door slamming.

Aaron raised his wine glass and finished the last sip. “See, told you,” he said, glancing at Landon. “Christmas is the worst time for family gatherings.”

Nyle discarded his paper crowns and shook his head in disbelief. “You two…a perfect match, but not in a good way.” He got up, followed by a concerned Jean.

Landon gulped down his wine, then gestured towards the garden. But Aaron had another idea.

“How about a walk?” he suggested.

“Where to?”

“Just come with me. You’ll see.”

*

L ondon’s heartbeat seemed to pause on Christmas Day, the usually bustling streets now still.

Aaron and Landon’s footsteps echoed in the unusual silence, with only the occasional pigeon for company, pecking at a forgotten sandwich by the Thames.

It was like a scene out of some apocalyptic movie, the perfect atmosphere as they stopped in front of an imposing iron gate, crowned by a once-vivid sign, now faded by time: Riverdreams Wonderland .

Beyond the gate, the faint outlines of long-forgotten rides beckoned.

Landon’s brow furrowed. “What the— a theme park?”

“Even better,” Aaron said, nudging the rusted gate open with his foot. The creak broke the night’s stillness. “An abandoned theme park.”

They navigated paths overcome by nature, littered with memories and decay. Passing through a graffiti-laden tunnel, they emerged to a haunting scene of forsaken rides, like prehistoric behemoths frozen in time. The whistle of the wind made even the once-loved roller coaster seem threatening.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Landon remarked.

“I find it fascinating.”

“Why’d you bring me here?”

Aaron kicked a bottle cap along the path, his gaze fixed on the ground. “At the bonfire night, you mentioned this was the one place you always wanted to visit but never got the chance.”

Landon chuckled, seeming surprised. “I meant when it was buzzing. This is a ghost town.”

“Frightened, aren’t we?” Aaron nudged him.

“Why would an old, lifeless place like this frighten me?”

“Some places can be scary.”

“I reckon it’s the memories, not the places that are scary.”

Aaron pointed to a run-down building topped with a skeletal figure. “What about the haunted house, then?”

“You think that’d spook me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

They approached the building, its entrance covered in thick cobwebs.

Aaron brushed them off and shoved the old wooden door open, its hinges protesting.

Inside, a semi-dark passage greeted them, filled with a musty, damp smell, like laundry that hadn’t dried properly.

Faint shafts of light seeped through the cracks in the walls and ceiling, casting eerie shadows that danced along the corridor.

They turned on their phone’s torches, the light revealing faded spots on the walls where pictures used to hang.

Leading the way, Aaron stepped over rubbish and leaves until he reached a staircase. As he made to climb it, the sound of a kicked can behind him startled him.

“It’s just me,” Landon said, flashing the light in Aaron’s face. “So much for not getting scared.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

Shaking off the comment, Aaron started up the creaky stairs, carefully avoiding weeds and mushrooms sprouting in the damp corners.

“Reckon if we eat one of these, we’ll end up in Wonderland like Alice?” Aaron joked.

“We’d more likely end up in A & E,” Landon commented dryly.

Reaching the top, they shone their phones around the room, though a large, glassless window let in a faint glow from outside. It was pretty much an empty room, save for a baby grand piano against the wall.