The Black Ocean

Episode 6

As I returned to my room, it felt like stepping into a troubling and tangled dream. I wished those words hadn't been real. It was well past midnight. My eyes refused to close, my mind embroiled in an internal battle. Forgotten memories surged vividly into my thoughts.

Even my subconscious struggled with my feelings for Dorian. I was locked in a conflict with myself, unable to shake off this cursed affection.

The buzzing of my phone snapped me out of my reverie. Alex had messaged me, saying, "You're the main lead in your life. It's your story. Don't play a part that doesn't suit the main lead."

His message managed to bring a smile, even after the rough night I'd been through.

One of the tabs left open on my phone caught my eye. It was about Dorian's upcoming birthday. Searching for a gift felt pathetic given my emotions for him. Alex's words replayed relentlessly. Were my feelings for Dorian taking over my life?

He could easily cut me out because of his girlfriend's discomfort, yet here I was, contemplating a birthday gift for him, unsure if I'd even be invited.

For years, Dorian's aloofness had been a warning, but I held on, desperately trying to draw him closer.

Closing the gift tab on my phone, I was suddenly immersed in memories of Dorian's birthday from last year, or perhaps I should say, what had never happened.

Despite everything that had gone wrong and the overwhelming sadness I felt, I couldn't shake off the hope of being with him. It was unbelievable that I couldn't let go.

I'd forgotten the heartache I endured on his last birthday, only to find myself seeking gifts once more, plunging back into that same pain. How many times would I repeat this mistake? How often would I fall into this same trap?

How many more times would I allow my heart to break without attempting to piece it back together?

In the dim light, two figures danced together, their happiness blending into the crowd, while I found solace in the drinks I downed.

Why did I even go to that foolish birthday party? I watched him joyful and content, in someone else's arms. Sitting at the bar, away from the lively crowd dancing in the center, I couldn't help but watch him with someone else.

I had suggested the whole birthday idea to Dorian, arranged everything from the venue to the guest list. Our closeness had waned over time, especially after he began dating Blair. Yet, our recent exchanges had stirred up hope in me.

For days, I anticipated this occasion, scouting for a perfect gift.

Now, a small cardboard bag lay beside my drink. Inside, there was an expensive perfume and a postcard-sized watercolor painting, a creation that took multiple attempts to get right because I hadn't touched a brush in years.

When we were young, we used to paint together. I thought this painting, a silhouette of his favorite city, would evoke our shared past, the bond between us.

Gently pulling out the painting from the transparent bag, I noticed the bartender's curious gaze. To avoid any further attention, I gestured for him to come closer.

Handing him the painting, I said, "Feel free to give this to anyone here. If not, you can toss it away." Swiftly picking up the bag, I left before he could react.

Among the still vibrant crowd, Dorian and Blair stood. Moving towards the reserved birthday table, I waved the bag amidst the other gifts. That night seemed to conclude for me then and there.

His happiness with someone else and his absence had left me feeling perpetually alone that night, as if his mere presence was the only antidote to my loneliness.

I was scared to embrace solitude, frightened to fall for it. It held me so tight, I didn't want to snap out of the dreamy haze it enveloped me in. I refused to let go of the nightmares that left me breathless.

Most of all, I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him. He had no clue how much his absence hurt. I craved tangible proof, something to demonstrate my pain, but all I had were ethereal words, floating in the air.

When I reached out to touch him, he vanished into thin air. My hands found nothingness. In my dreams, I saw him gaze at me with the same infinite love he showed Blair, a love I never thought could exist. Then reality hit me hard.

The stark white wall stared at me, my wardrobe was a silent witness, and the rug beneath pitied me. Solitude was my refuge, my sanctuary. No matter how I explained it, he'd never understand me.

No matter how long I waited, he wouldn't love me. I'd watch him look at someone else with adoration. I'd hear him speak about the woman he fell for. I couldn't tell him that nobody could love him as deeply as I did. And he'd never know the happiness we shared in my dreams.

It was absurd to think that by doing something for Dorian, by making an effort, he'd suddenly fall in love with me.

His attention never truly landed on me, his heart was elsewhere. What made me believe that putting in effort would change that?

I tossed my phone to the end of the bed in my agitation and buried myself under the covers, yearning to vanish into the darkness. But sleep eluded me, and the memories of the past kept replaying, denying me any rest.

Suddenly, Alex's voice startled me as he answered the call I'd accidentally made in my tossing. I brought the phone close, hearing his voice without even bringing it to my ear.

"Blake?"

Bringing it to my ear, I sighed inwardly.

"Hello," I replied sheepishly, having unintentionally called him late at night.

"Can't sleep?" His sleepy voice hinted at his own restlessness.

"Actually, I called you by mistake. I'm sorry for waking you," I confessed.

"Don't hang up if you're awake,"

Leaning back against my headboard, I plugged in my headphones, waiting in silence.

"What do you want to do?" His voice, smooth and soothing, almost seemed like a song.

"Like what?" I asked, unsure of his query.

"I mean, what's your dream in life?" he clarified.

For a moment, I couldn't recall my own aspirations. "Actually, I don't know yet. When I was little, Dorian and I attended art class together, but I didn't excel like he did. After that, I lost sight of my own desires. I guess I'm a hopeless case," I chuckled.

His laughter echoed through the phone, lifting my spirits.

"What's your dream?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Actually, I don't know either ," he admitted, and we both shared a laugh.

"Let's figure it out together, "

During our chat, connected to my headset, I gazed at Alex's picture, imagining his expressions and smile.

"Thanks for tonight. I mean it..." I said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"It was my pleasure," he replied in a suggestive tone, reminding me of our kiss.

"You know you're a terrible person, right, Alex?"

"Absolutely. If you ever need help again, I'm here," he teased.

"I'm hanging up," I pretended to protest.

"Blake..." he began, his voice trailing off.

"Yeah..."

"Never mind, good night," his sweet and soothing voice bid farewell.

"Good night, Alex," I murmured, ending the call. Even after our conversation, I found myself staring at his picture on my phone for a while before falling asleep.