Postmidnight Thoughts

Blinding. Not the spotlight or the stage, but the man. He walked to the center stage, a guitar slung across his shoulder. The crowd held its breath in anticipation for one second. The next, it erupted in applause. People were screaming his name, calling for his attention, cheering for him. Fans held up their lightsticks, enveloping the darkness in a sea of electric blue. The lights, the camera flashes, and everyone's gaze were trained on the lone man onstage.  And then, silence. He strummed his guitar once. He took a deep breath, causing everyone to hold theirs and release it as he began his ballad. With his song, everyone who heard was taken into another reality that only had his voice and his music. Extraordinary. The experience was so surreal Jude forgot for a moment that he was in his cramped living room and not with the crowd at the live performance. He held his breath as the song began to play. He listened. The words were familiar to him. Jude knew those lyrics by heart; he was the one who wrote them. But it was how the verses married into the melody so well that made the performance breathtaking. Not every musician could weave music that affects people. And that, Jude thought, was just how exceptional the idol on stage was. Zach was not just a musician; he was an artist. He lived and breathed performance. He made magic. And no one could resist the stories he brought to life whenever he sang a song. Zach continued to sing on the television, strumming his guitar. After five years in the industry, he was slowly making his mark as one of the biggest artists of the decade. Jude had watched him pour out his heart into his craft, watched him claw his way to get to where he was. Zach was good-looking, mysterious, alluring, and there was no question about his talent or his passion for his craft. Women wanted him. Men envied him. Jude's hands stopped fiddling with the tools in his hands for a second, eyes fixed on the flashing pictures on the screen. How this boy—a man, now—grew from that snotty and cocky college sophomore to one of the country's most celebrated music acts was a marvel. Jude couldn't be prouder. He was so proud that he could almost ignore the tinge of sadness that mingled with the joy he felt. Sadness came with many other emotions, thoughts, and words unsaid. There was a knock on the door and Jude jumped. His hands fumbled, and the circuit in his hand almost fell to the floor. He yelped, catching it and saving it from a horrible death.  Jude turned his head to the door next to the television, curious. Who the hell came for an unannounced visit past midnight? "Hold up, you're breaking my door!" Jude yelled when the knocks became incessant. He placed his things on the living room table then stomped to the main door. A familiar blank expression and a mess of wavy black hair greeted Jude when he opened the door. He took one look at the cocky, smiling young man waiting at his doorstep, then slammed the door shut again. He locked the knob. "Hey! Why'd you close the f*****g door in my face?" his visitor asked, knocking heavily again. The knocking did not let up, so Jude said, "Alright, alright! Stop knocking or you'll wake my neighbors." He opened the door again, smiling fondly at his visitor. The same man on the television was standing outside his apartment. Zach might be the flashy idol on the television screen, but as he stood by the door, Jude could only see him as his friend. Zach removed the black mask that covered his face and raised the small ice cooler in his hand. "Sup?" "If you were gonna knock, I shouldn't have given you the keys to my house," said Jude. The idol rolled his eyes. "If you're gonna be a jerk, I shouldn't have brought beer." They laughed. As if it were the most natural thing to do, Jude stepped aside to let Zach into his home. Zach entered, and after removing his shoes, slung one arm around Jude's shoulders while the other locked the door behind them. The program was still on the TV as they sat on the long couch. Jude took one end while Zach sat close to him, setting the cooler on the table beside Jude's chaotic array of tools, circuits, wires, and LED lights. "Ey, check out how cool my costume is on there," Zach said, waving the open beer can in the TV's general direction. "Darn, I'm so handsome." Jude blanched and pretended to shiver. "The amount of narcissistic self-confidence in that statement is repulsive." "Hey, you think just because you're my good friend I'm gonna let that slide, huh?" Zach hooked his arm around Jude's neck and brought dug his knuckle into the crown of Jude 's head, twisting. The other retaliated and elbowed him in the gut lightly.  Zach released him and they laughed, settling back to their original positions. "I thought this was a live show?" "Nah, it's re-run," Zach told him. "I mean, why would I go to work on a nice night like this when I could be out dating." "Uh-huh." Jude gave him a bored side glance. "So why aren't you?" Zach took two gulps of the expensive beer in his hand. "I was on a date with a girl just a while ago." "And?" "Couldn't get on with it," he said, shrugging. "I told her I wasn't in the mood. Then she slapped me and called me—" "Immature?" "Bingo..." Jude turned to look at him. "Dude, that girl would have been, what? The fifth one this month?" "Yep," he said, then handed Jude a can of beer. "Seriously, I'm getting frustrated... So be a good pal and keep me company, alright?" The idol casually tossed a can to Jude who just put the beer can on the table. "You know I can't hold my alcohol." "Oh... Right." "What's been going on with you lately?" Zach groaned then lay his head back on the couch's headrest, stomping his feet in frustration. "I don't know! I just suddenly lost my mojo. It's getting annoying!" Childish. Jude clicked his tongue. The TV show was still on, and it played a montage of Zach, the artist everyone idolized: brilliant, mysterious, cool. Then, he side-eyed the whiny young man beside him as he greedily guzzled the beer in his hand. They were one and the same person, sure. People adored this man. But there were a few things people didn't know about the idol they knew only by his screen name; things that made Zach quite different from their fantasy image of him. Jude knew them all by heart. One, Zach was a brat--a clingy and childish brat. He may pull off a cool and stoic air in his performances, but he was, in reality, a fourteen-year-old stuck in a man's body. He would do the silliest and most random things without warning, and he would be physically touchy with people he was comfortable with. It always came as a surprise to others when the man they thought was a dreamy debonair turns out to be an annoying prick. Jude always thought Zach's inability to stay in a relationship was because of that contrast. The women he dated usually fell in love with his persona; but when it got down to it, they couldn't handle who he really was. Zach emptied his first beer can and put it on the table. Then, he ran his hands through his jet-black locks and turned to Jude, "Am I really annoying and immature?" "Am I really supposed to answer that honestly?" Zach groaned and leaned over to Jude's side on the couch, putting his head on the other's shoulder. "Argh, some friend you are!" Jude flicked him on the forehead, making him sit upright. "You're... probably just not who they thought you were." "Huh? What did they expect?" he scoffed. "I dunno... Dark, aloof, mysterious?" "Well, that's me, too... But just one side of me." Jude shrugged, not looking at Zach but at the circuit still in his hand. He no longer tinkered with it, just stared for the lack of anything to do. He said nothing. "Whatever," Zach started, opening his second beer can. "Their loss. They probably just wanted to get in my pants anyway." "Aren't you talking about yourself, though?" "Shaddup..." the idol drawled, giving Jude a sideways glance. "That's not it." "Really, now?" Jude smirked. He recognized the look in Zach's eyes. It was a look that meant he was thinking about something. "I've been... trying..." he said, and with that tone of voice, Jude knew it was something that bothered him. "But I just... don't feel like dating, for some reason? Like, dating's been great and all but... suddenly they just didn't seem too interesting anymore?" "Wow, where'd that come from? Did all those hours of working finally get to you?" Zach was quiet for a little while, thinking. "Maybe..." Jude heaved a deep sigh. "Well, if you ask me, I think it's a good thing. It isn't healthy for you to jump from one girl to another like this, so maybe you should stop for a while. You have a reputation to protect, you know?" "Right." "Seriously, dude..." "I get it, I get it," he started. "I've been planning to lie low for a little while anyway." "Good." "I mean, who needs women, right?" He flashed Jude a confident smirk. "All I need is my music, and my best friend who'll never leave my side." Jude rolled his eyes. Pushy. Another thing other people didn't know about Zach: he was a dangerous combination of ambition and selfishness. He was ambitious in that he knew what he wanted. He was selfish because he did everything he could to get it, regardless of the cost. Zach was the kind who didn't pull punches for his goals. For some, it may be off-putting. But because he was so charming, people made time for him. He was good at convincing others to help in his pursuits. He would smooth-talk others until he got what he wanted. And whoever bites the bait would immediately be attracted by his fiery determination, inspired to work just as hard as he does. This was how Zach got Jude to write lyrics for him in the first place. Jude wasn't a songwriter, but when Zach found out about his knack for poetry and prose, the man badgered him until Jude gave in and agreed. Sometimes Jude wished Zach had a little empathy for others. Other people had dreams, too. Far too often, when he made them say 'yes', it would be at the cost of their own interests. Jude looked at the various tools and circuits scattered across his table. "How do you do it, man?" Zach's voice called, dragging him out of his nostalgia. "Do what?" "Like... not date. Not look for physical intimacy and stuff," he asked. Jude paused. He tried not to show any emotion on his face. How did he do it? Not without difficulty, Jude thought. It was true that he did 'not date'. He wasn't one for serious relationships, at least not with just anyone. But he does have needs. And he does satisfy them on rare occasions. It was just not something Zach needed to know about. Ever. Instead of going into a long and potentially awkward explanation, Jude replied, "It's just not my thing." A cackle that sounded like a thousand applause rang from Zach. Jude smiled. "As if! You're obviously a romantic. Just look at the songs you wrote." "Oh, you mean the songs I write at your request? Gee, I wonder who the romantic is." They looked at each other, smiling.  The more Jude looked, the more he admired the deep brown color of Zach's eyes. They were vivid even in the dark. Bright and bursting with life, like the noonday sun. But his smile was boyish, full lips stretching into a beautiful grin Jude could not get tired of. He stared. Whether he knew what he was doing or not, Zach raised his hand and touched the tips of Jude's silver hair falling just below his ears. Jude leaned away slightly, surprised at the sudden invasion of his personal space. "Hm... Your hair got longer." "Uh... yeah." Jude leaned in ever so slightly to the warmth of his hand. "Haven't cut it in a while." Zach held back a chuckle as he continued to admire the silver strands. "I like this color on you. I knew you would look good with silver hair." "Well, it was your suggestion. Who am I to question your fashion sense?" Jude could still remember the day Zach told him this. They were at a studio late at night, drinking cheap coffee. Zach stopped what he was doing—Jude couldn't remember what it was, he had been so caught up in his gaze to remember anything else—and stared at Jude. The idol c****d his head from side to side. He took in every detail of Jude's face, staring long enough to make him flush a deep red. Then he told Jude to go and color his hair ash gray. His exact words were, 'You'd look hot in it.' And, really. If Zach told anyone they would look hot in a particular hairdo, wouldn't they also go to the salon the next day to achieve it? Damned. "Hey, Jude..." "Hm...?" "You won't stop hanging out with me even if you get a girlfriend, right?" Zach's eyes glinted when their eyes met, loneliness swimming in the depths of his chocolate orbs. Jude wondered what it would cost to stare deeply into those pools of brown and drown himself in them. He had always wanted to. If he were being reckless, he would. But there was so much at stake, for himself and Zach that he never dared. Jude didn't think he could risk anything yet. Trying to dismiss his own thoughts, he quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "Where the heck is this sappy talk coming from?" Zach smiled a disarming smile. Then he shrugged and turned to his beer again. "Just thought... You know... bros forever and stuff." Jude deadpanned at him. "You're kidding, right?" "Not in the slightest," he said. "'Cause if you get a girlfriend, I would probably get jealous and stuff." Damned again. Jude turned away. He could only say, "Dude, if I had a partner, I wouldn't introduce you." "What? Why?" Zach cried. "How come?! Jude!" Zach complained and whined like the child he was. Jude ignored him. He also ignored the way his ears rang and his heart started to skip at the sound of Zach calling him by his name. To hide the growing blush on his cheeks, Jude stood and walked to the kitchen to make them instant coffee. The idol followed him to the kitchen, watching Jude boil water in the heater. He stood close, close enough that Jude could feel the warmth from his skin. And if he doesn't always do it, Jude would think it meant something else. Zach sought him. Jude liked to think this meant that, despite living the life he had always wanted, Zach needed him in his life. He needed Jude more than just the guy who wrote songs, but as the person he turned to for support. His anchor. His best friend. If only Jude felt that way, too. That was one other thing most people didn't know about Zach. And Jude would bet his entire life savings that Zach didn't know about it either. Zach didn't know that for all his selfishness, quirks, and bad habits, Jude was helplessly and unconditionally in love with him. When did it start? Jude didn't know. All he knew was he had liked Zach as a person from the moment he flashed him that first smile. His liking turned into infatuation. The infatuation turned into desire. His desire eventually grew into pining. And somewhere along the way, it became a hopeless realization that he would always be blinded by this exceptionally talented yet childish and pushy young man. He finished pouring the hot water into two mugs. He gave each of them a stir, letting the sugar melt into the bitter liquid gold in the cup. When he was done, he handed one over to Zach. The idol gave him a contented grin. "Thanks," Zach said. Then he added, "You're the best." Jude had his questions. He had thoughts about his life that plagued him and kept him up at night. Questions he ignored but would mock him from time to time, and make him question his life, his present, his future. Jude would often just grit his teeth and banish these thoughts from his head. But it was times like these that he didn't need to think so hard about them. As soon as Zach smiled at him, his questions were thrown into a dark corner of his mind, saved for another day. A day when Zach was not smiling at him; a day when Zach was not right next to him radiating warmth that spread across the hollowness of his chest. Just when Jude starts to doubt his place in Zach's life, the other will catch him off guard and reel him back to his side--Jude's own version of limbo. Jude fell again, hook, line, and sinker. What a fool he was.