Dim

A Short Story

Dim

By: N. Mozart Diaz

Celebrations are like punctuation marks, I thought, without them, life would just be one long drawl with no end.

I’ve always dreamt of how one of Gatsby’s parties must be like and that this is the closest I’ll probably come to one. The music blared, bright lights decorated the walls, and people drank and danced without a care in the world.

A singular figure stood out alone by the balcony, cigarette on one hand, and drink on the other.

I wonder if I can ever tell him how I feel.

I could see why no one would notice him standing out there, the music was blaring and people were shouting and wooing, the entire world seemed to exist in this one penthouse and nothing else mattered.

I took a bottle of beer and start making my way towards him; no one should ever be alone in times of celebration, no one — especially him. The way he stood out against the bright skyline and rolling hills of Baguio seemed cold, he seemed to stiffen the entire city, a cold silhouette against the night.

“There’s the man of the hour.” I say, lifting my bottle to meet his

He smiles at me and takes a long drag from his cigarette.

“What’s up?” I ask, changing my tone

“Oh, nothing really. I guess I’m just really tired.”

“Aw, duuuuude, this is not the time to be tired, later is the time to be tired. Now is the time to eat, drink, and be happy. C’mon! The whole production was a success thanks to you. Is there something wrong?”

“It’s not something I want to talk about right now.”

“Now, that, I don’t believe. You always want to talk about it.”

He looked at me emptily, and took a long drink from his beer.

I stare at him, half drunk and half in love with the premise of the night. I turned and began my way to the livelier part of the celebration.

“I’m leaving, if you must know. You’ve been my friend longer than anyone else here, you should know, Matt, you’re my best friend.”

“What? You can’t leave this early; no one’s even drunk yet.” I laughed

“No. no, I’m staying the whole night. I’m leaving the city tomorrow — to God knows where.”

“Don’t fuck with me, you know I don’t deal well with news like this. Remember when Jack left?”

“Yeah” he let out a small laugh “I remember. But I’m not joking. I’m leaving. For real.”

“When did you decide this?” A surge of dread washes over me

“A few moments after the last curtain. It was like something went out of me, you know? One of those feelings when you know there’s nothing left for you in a place.”

“You can’t be serious, Pat.”

“I am. I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“When are you coming back?” Taken aback, I tried to hide my shock. He couldn’t just leave the whole production team right? He basically manned the whole thing since the original director had some kind of nervous breakdown and abandoned the whole project.

“I don’t know if I am coming back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Goddammit, Patrick, what do you know? And when were you going to tell everybody? Or were you just going to up and leave?” I’m nearly angry now, we’ve been best friends for over four years and he’s just going to leave like none of this mattered?

“It just happened.” He looks down and takes another drag from his cigarette.

“What just happened?” I’m shouting now and on the verge of tears

“I don’t know. Okay? If I knew I would tell you, but I don’t know! ” he shouts back

“Dammit, Pat, get your shit together. This was the greatest thing you, I, and this whole theater group ever pulled off! We got the attention of some hotshot client in Manila, wasn’t that the dream? Locally, nationally, then take the world by storm? This is our dream.”

“I was supposed to be having the time of my life.”

“But?”

“I felt like an old man, an old man with nothing left for him with the world stiff and broken. I’m at the end of the line.”

“Fucking hell, you’re just having some mood swings, talk to us when you’re okay.”

He said nothing in reply, so I turned and left.

I took a few angry steps away from him, and then by a motion from my heart I turned around.

“You better not fucking leave, you sonuvabitch.”

He really did look like he was having the time of his life; I’d never seen him so passionate as when he took over the production. The team’s headed to Manila, and then God-knows-where but everyone now looked to him as the figurehead of the team. Hell, even I did.

This was the break we’ve been waiting for, in over four years, we’ve worked in the theatre business, doing rerun after rerun of Florante at Laura, Shakespeare, theatrical productions like presenting the different cultures of the Philippines. The theatre group became our family — I guess he didn’t feel the same way.

I found an empty spot by the sofa and sat there brooding about the recent revelation. Will he really do it? He could be lying; of course, he’s a very talented liar. Yes, he’s just joking. But if he was, something seemed off. If it was all just for a joke, it’s a very cruel one.

It would be cruel to me.

I guess he didn’t know. The truth is that I guess nobody really knew since I’ve hidden it so well. In the four years I’ve known him I never worked up the courage to say that I liked him. But for every girlfriend he had, I guess that hope diminished. I don’t understand how I could want someone this bad, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life — he just couldn’t know, that would destroy everything; I can’t have that.

I stood up to get another bottle; I want to get drunk; I want to get so drunk that I forget everything. And I do, but I don’t forget.

Despite waking up with an unholy pounding on my head and a pool of vomit next to me — I didn’t forget, I guess it’s impossible to forget him. With effort, I will myself to look for Patrick, but he was nowhere to be found.

I look to the balcony where the world was one grey building after the other against a grey sky; I realize now that the city has become dead to me. A strong gust of wind blew from the balcony, and the heavens mourned.

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