GREETINGS FROM W

Four

Aleyn

Why is life so difficult?

For me at least.

I barely had time to breathe, time to be grateful to have good people in my life. 

I've always struggled since I was a child. Growing up with an alcoholic and a homophobic was quite challenging.

Sometimes, I admire myself for being patient for eighteen years. I have no idea how I endured seeing my father speak about gays as if they have a sort of incurable illness. He used to shake his head in disappointment every time he passed by a man wearing lipstick or saw two women kissing. He wasn't just disgusted, but he pitied them as if something horrible was happening to them—  to us. 

Life was already hard because of my mother. She spent more time with her glass bottles than her son. 

Other sons and daughters usually remember their mothers— or their parent, thanks to a familiar smell, like a sweet fragrance, or the aroma of their favourite dish, or just that odour that identifies every person. 

But my mom had none. 

I only remember smelling stinky alcohol every time she opened her mouth—something she rarely did.

I used to find any excuse not to come back home early. I would go to the library, hang out with the few friends I had, or go to a music shop. 

Most of my classmates were impatient for the classes to end and run to their houses. But I hated that tiny apartment. I couldn't even call it home. 

It was until high school that I met Skylar. 

She was different from other girls. Most of them liked to hang out with me because they've always wanted a gay best friend. It pissed me off because I'm not one who likes to do shopping, or talk about boys, or enjoy pyjama parties.

My real personality had nothing to do with that fantasy they created in their minds. 

Skylar was the coolest girl I've met at school. She's a year younger than me, and we weren't in the same class, but we spent a lot of time together outside. I love the way she thinks, and hearing her talking about her dreams. She made my high school years better, and even amazing when she introduced me to Shadow.

She and he became friends online, and they are the reason why I still believe that friendship still exists. 

But of course, the unforgettable part of this was when I finally saw his gorgeous blue eyes. 

The first time I met Wolfe was when Shadow invited me, Skylar, and Kaela at his house to listen to some demos. I heard a lot about his older brother before, but I never got to see him in reality. But that day arrived, and I got to say that it was the day my life had finally changed. 

Wolfe was in the kitchen of the tiny apartment they had before. He had a black apron around his waist and was making us french tacos. He was tall and the tight white teeshirt he was wearing traced his torso perfectly. Shadow was talking about something, but I wasn't listening to his words.

His brother stole all my attention.

When Wolfe finally turned around, that's when I fell hard, and I knew there was no coming back. 

When Shadow's blue eyes gave more of a mystery vibe, Wolfe's were more sparkling— were more alive. 

I smiled the second his eyes landed on mine, and I wished I could look at them every day. 

'You must be Aleyn' was the first sentence I heard from him. He was already familiar with Skylar and Kaela as they were friends with his brother longer than me. Wolfe took off his apron and walked with a grin before he took me in his arms. He caught me off guard as I wasn't expecting him to be so friendly and touchy when Shadow was quieter and reserved. 

I remember falling in love with his gorgeous smile, his cooking skills, and his music. 

His music was what made me never leave his side. 

He was not only a good producer but also a talented lyricist. One day I cried when I listened to Sixth Sense singing 'you are not alone, I am here with you'. 

They were their voices, but I knew they were his words. 

Since I met Wolfe, he never let me feel that I was alone, even when my father punched me on the face and chased me from home. His songs encouraged me to stop hiding and to come out, but my parents weren't people to accept their only son for being who he is. 

I called Wolfe that night. I was crying at the bus stop, and I had nowhere to go. His motorcycle stopped in front of me fifteen minutes later, and soon I had my arms around his waist, and my head rested on his back. 

The apartment was small, but Wolfe found me a place to stay. He bought a sofa bed, especially for me and took care of everything, my clothes, shampoo, toothbrush, and school lunch until I started a part-time job at a cafe.  

Wolfe was my first real love— and probably my last. 

He had everything I liked in a man, and he made it so difficult for me to date other guys. He put my standards up high, and it killed me. 

While he was moving from girlfriend to others, I watched him from the corner and made up an entire fantasy novel in my mind, just like the ones Skylar writes. The story of my hand holding his instead of Emily's, and my lips crashing on his instead of Clara's, had no end. 

Today, I was still in love and still craving his touch. But the only difference was that he wasn't here anymore. 

While my friends were discussing ways to get Luke out of prison, I took my glass of coke and walked upstairs to his room. It was at the end of the corridor, and the door was slightly opened. I stood in front of it for a while, inhaling and exhaling, and trying to stop the tears from falling. Then I pushed the wooden door open, and the familiar scent brushed my nose. 

Wolfe always smelled like vanilla, and he loved it. It was his favourite ice-cream flavour, his favourite home diffuser fragrance, and his favourite shower gel scent. 

The tears threatened to fall down my cheeks as I saw his jeans scattered on the floor and his favourite blue sweater around his gaming chair. It was a gift from me. He wasn't a gamer like me, but I thought he'd like it because it's more comfortable than regular office chairs. And I was right, Wolfe thanked me day and night for it as his back pain lessened. 

Next to it was my seat; a white tulip chair in the corner of the desk. I used to sit there while Wolfe worked on songs. He asked me plenty of times to help me record song guides because he thought I had a beautiful voice. 

The thing about that chair is that it belongs to me, only me. Wolfe never let anyone sit on it, not even his brother, nor his ex-girlfriends.

Emily was so pissed off when he sent her to sit on the bed while I took the seat next to him. She glared at me, and I ignored her while smirking in secret. 

Wolfe always put our friendship first no matter what, and that is one of the reasons why I am in love with him. 

I took a breath before taking a seat in my tulip chair, and I started crying the second the emptiness of his gaming chair hit me and reminded me that he was not home, that he was never coming back. 

His white desk was organised as usual. There was no stain nor piled up papers on it. The large monitor was in the centre and surrounded by his laptop and another screen on the side. 

I traced every single object slowly with my fingers, feeling everything he touched before his departure; he keyboard, the mouse, and the pen. The salty droplets fell on the table, and his perfectionist self would have surely scolded me for wetting his desk. 

I put my arms in the space next to the printer and rested my head on them. I closed my eyes and disconnected from the world for a moment. My friends' conversation downstairs was a background sound to my sad movie. 

A few minutes later, I opened my eyes slowly and looked around until I spotted a black USB between the monitor and the laptop with a small blue post-it under it. 

I hurried to take it, and I read 'You know the password, A.' with a 'Greetings from W' on the bottom. 

A…That was me. 

I was the only one in the group to have name that starts with A, and also the only one who knew his computer password. 

I gulped and took the USB with shaky hands before I turned on the machine. It roared, and I waited for it to finish all installations before I connect the USB. I opened the file, and I got confused for a moment when I saw the numerous folders and names. I opened each one of them until I understood what was going on.

My heart was racing, and I hurried to run downstairs to tell my friends.