Dark Rainbow

RACH @ REEN

It was daytime, so the crowd at the CC was small—fewer than six people. That suited me just fine. I'd made a habit of spending a few hours there almost every day, browsing random websites, updating my résumé, checking job postings, and occasionally wasting time playing whatever free games I could find. It wasn't exactly the life I'd imagined for myself, but for now, it was what I had. Today, though, I found myself doing something different. I logged into Chatside, the mXXX chat service my younger cousins were always talking about. I'd seen them use it whenever I visited, and I'd been curious about the whole idea of talking to complete strangers from anywhere in the world. Anyone. Anytime. Anywhere. It sounded both ridiculous and strangely appealing. So, why not? Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to use my real name. Reen would do. I scrolled through the list of usernames, barely paying attention, until one particular name caught my eye.

Gage. I couldn't explain why. There was simply something about it that made me pause. A few seconds later, I typed, “Hahaha, you want me to believe that you've skipped lunch just to chat with me?” His reply came quickly. “I swear on my last day. This closing shop, house.” I smiled. “Fine then, go grab something now. It's late, you know. Make sure you show me proof, otherwise I'll assume you've already eaten earlier and are purposely lying about it.” “Alright, but for that I need your contact number.” “....”

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Seriously? “Yeah... how am I supposed to send the proof without it?” I felt my heart and mind sink into a strange, chaotic silence. Still, I kept typing. “...A... you can email it to me!?” “Nooo... I won't be able to access my email from the restaurant. Sending you a picture through my phone is easier! Come on, you trust me, right?” I smiled despite myself. The funny thing was, I knew I wasn't being entirely truthful with him. My instincts did trust him—to some extent. But that didn't mean I was going to hand over my number simply because some stranger on the internet asked for it.

“Without knowing any other details except that your name is Gage, you work as an assistant manager at a lighting showroom, and today happens to be your last day because it's closing down... nah. ;)” He replied, “Ouch, you just broke my heart. But it's true though. I did share my mobile number and fXXXXXr profile, so you could check.” I smiled at the screen. “:D I did check, otherwise I wouldn't have continued chatting here.”

And I had. I'd checked his profile before replying again, and so far, everything he'd told me seemed straightforward and accurate. He had that boy-next-door kind of look—simple, decent, with an easy smile—but there was something else I couldn't put my finger on. Maybe it was just instinct. Maybe there was another side to him that his photographs didn't show. “Oh, that I know. Didn't you say you hardly smoke? But in your photos, cigarettes were everywhere. :/” He quickly defended himself. “That's not just me! My colleagues smoke too!!!” I stared at the screen. “...” Then his tone changed. “Reen... trust me. I've never connected with anyone on mRIC before. Mostly my buddies use it. I logged in one last time just to clear all the stuff those idiots had saved, but I ended up trying one last time before formatting the PC.”

Something about the way he wrote that made me stop teasing him. He sounded serious, and somehow, his sincerity reached me. “I'm no innocent man. I know about these sites and all, but I've never used my real name before. Honestly, this is my first real two-way conversation, and I truly feel this was meant to happen—us chatting and getting to know each other.”

I stared at those words for a long moment. Meant to happen? I looked away from the screen and towards the tinted glass door, watching the rain outside. It was strange how easily a few words from a stranger could make me think about my own decisions. I'd come into this chat room almost on a whim. I'd scrolled through the usernames and, for reasons I couldn't explain, felt an odd little pull when I'd seen him.

So I typed “Hi.” And now I was sitting here, wondering whether there had been a reason for it. “Reen, are you there? See, no worries, okay? It's alright. We can email each other if that makes you more comfortable. Just don't go MIA.” I quickly typed, “Nah, I'm still here. Just answering a call.” A lie, but it covered my silence. “Phew... thank goodness. I thought you'd left. Hey, I'm serious. We can email if you prefer that.” I looked at his message again. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I typed my number. “XXX-XXXXXXXXX.” His response appeared almost instantly.

“Finally!!!!!” I couldn't help laughing. “Gage, I'm using a normal Symbian phone, so I won't be able to receive your photos or anything like that. But we can chat and call, which is the bright side.” I continued before he could reply. “That's one of the reasons I had second thoughts when you specifically asked for my number just to share pictures.” “Doesn't matter. We can call and chat whenever we can, and the pictures... I can email them to you. :p” I shook my head, smiling. “Fine, we can do that. :)”

I barely had time to settle back into the conversation before the owner walked over to remind me that my time was up unless I wanted to top up for another session. I immediately declined. I'd already stayed longer than I intended.

“Hey Gage, I have to go now. My time at CC is up.” He replied, “Oh, okay. Well, I enjoyed our conversation. Catch up soon.” I smiled at the screen. “Me too. Okay, make sure you grab your lunch. Gtg.” I logged out, checked my job applications one last time, switched off the computer, picked up my bag, and left. I stopped at a small shop, bought a few groceries, and then walked towards the bus station.

The moment I was alone again, that familiar heaviness returned. My surroundings became quiet, but my mind didn't. I needed a job. Anything. Something simple would do. I didn't know how much longer I could keep up this charade. I silently prayed for something good to happen. Anything. A miracle would be nice. A loud blast of a horn interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up to see my bus arriving. I climbed aboard and took my usual seat by the window. This particular bus always took the longer route. I didn't mind. The extra time helped pass the evening, and somehow, the longer journey made my little charade feel more realistic.

I leaned my head against the window, letting my thoughts wander, until a beep and vibration from my phone disturbed them. I looked down. An unknown number. I didn't open the message. Another vibration followed, then another. My heart began beating faster and my palms turned cold. I knew who it probably was, but I hesitated. I wasn't sure whether I was afraid of being wrong or simply scared of being right. Another beep came through. Just as I reached for the latest message, the phone rang. I answered without thinking. Pure reflex.

Then I heard him. His voice. For the first time. No introduction was necessary. Somehow, I knew. “Hi Reen, it's me. I did say we'd catch up soon. Well, here I am, trying to catch up.” His rumbling laugh came through the phone. “Hi, Gage.” That was all I could manage, my mind still trapped somewhere between disbelief and anticipation. He laughed. “Wow, you recognised my voice without even knowing it. Lucky me. And Reen, you sound quite young.” I laughed. “Oh God, no, I am not. We're only three years apart, remember? Trust me, that's my real date of birth.” I heard him laugh again before he said, “I won't forget it. You know why, Reen? Well, that was what intrigued me. Coincidence or not, I don't know, but that's what made me want to continue our chat earlier.” “I don't understand,” I admitted, looking out of the bus window as the rain-streaked streets slid past.

“Simple. My date of birth is 12/12/1982, while yours is 09/12/1985. Everything in between is three.” I frowned, still trying to understand where he was going with it. “Okay.” He laughed softly before continuing. “I believe three is my lucky number. It always has been, and so far, it still is. With us having a three-year age gap and your birthday being three days before mine, I felt it was a sign... a signal from the universe. You might think it sounds absurd, but it is what it is. And before you jump in, no, I'm not a horoscope believer or anything.”

I laughed, and so did he. Maybe it was curious. Maybe it was absurd. But there was something sincere about the way he'd said it, and for some reason, I believed him.

We spent the rest of my bus ride talking and bickering about the most ridiculous things. It was strangely refreshing. For as long as I could remember, my bus rides had always been noisy—sometimes because of the traffic, sometimes because of the people around me, but most of the time because of the chaos inside my own head. That evening was different. For once, the noise disappeared. In its place was his voice, our silly arguments, and a quiet excitement I wasn't quite ready to name. I looked out the window and smiled, wondering if perhaps, just maybe, something good had finally found me.