Two things
1. I lied, there's a bit of Aqil in this
2. Because Raph is lo solo for much of this, I had to stick his inner-monologue in here to stop some bits from just being a ton of photos
47 - Homecoming
Aqil
“Hey stranger. Where's the other half?”
“Gone home for the weekend. At the risk of sounding like a stereotype, I do like your hair, Eshe.”
“Yeah? I got so fed up of styling it. I was like, I’m going to cut it all off, just cut it all off. Then I freaked out and nearly booked an appointment to get a weave.”
“No, don’t do that, I like it.”
“Awww, thanks. Yours is…shorter.”
“Ugh, don’t talk about it. I hate it. It was Raph’s stupid idea – you’ll note he hasn’t had HIS cut shorter.”
“Of course he hasn’t, if he gets his hair cut how will he look like he’s in an espresso ad all the time? So, are you going to go get me a drink?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to get ME a drink?”
“When I’m earning what you’re earning, I’ll buy you a drink.”
Aqil ends up paying.
“When we’re in France, you’re buying the drinks.”
“We’ll see about that. Advance warning, me and Mel have decided we’re going to pick up French boyfriends at your wedding.”
“You don’t speak French. You pronounce voilà, ‘walla.’”
“Doesn’t matter. France is a paradise of soulful young men with beautiful dark eyes waiting for girls who can’t be bothered learning their language to sweep them off their feet. And I will not have you telling me otherwise.”
“That’s not really…”
“And I will NOT hear otherwise.”
“Never mind, my wedding is going to be such a stress filled nightmare I won’t have time for your delusions anyway.”
“How come?”
“Because no two members of our families are going to be happy with the same ceremony?”
“You’ll be fiiine. Raph’s terrifyingly organised, he’ll sort it out.”
“I don’t think this is one of those problems that can be solved by alphabetising.”
“Just think of it as an extension of his job. He can direct your guests. -‘Hey you, what in the hell do you think you’re doing sitting there?’ ‘Oh you did NOT just stand up at the wrong point’”
“Hahaha.”
“‘Everyone! Do not talk whilst I have my hand in the air, you hear? NO TALKING.’ See? Sorted.”
"Mmmmmm, maybe you're right. Talking of Raph, I really should call him. Just give me two seconds, I'll be riiiight back."
Raph
Just go up to the door and ring the doorbell. Simple. Right? Right.
Worst-case scenario, they don’t want anything to do with me and my life just goes on like it is right now.
“He—...oh.”
Is he going to say anything?
“Can…can I come in?”
“I guess.”
“Ann. Guess who I found?”
“Is that Joan? I was just thinking ‘you know who I should go-’”
"Oh."
She looks different. Older. Go figure, Zach, of course she looks older. Huh, are those different counters? God, what is wrong with me? Who gives a crap if they’re different counters.
"We should...go...the..sit down."
“Sooooo…”
Say something. Say something, now.
“…you guys’ve done up the kitchen, huh?”
“Where in the hell have you been?”
“I’ve…wait, didn’t Caleb say we were living in the same town?”
“Yes. But we want to hear it from you.”
“Did he mention Aqil?”
“A what?”
“Ah-keel. It’s a name. My…roommate’s name. Caleb met him.”
You’re a darn coward.
“I see. That doesn't answer the question.”
“Well…ummm…I was in France. For around a year, maybe? Caleb found that out somehow, right?”
No response. Okay. Just keep talking.
“That was right after I…after I left. Then I moved to Bridgeport and I’ve, uh, got an apartment there. And w…I spend lots of time in LA. Which is-”
Oh my god, is mom crying?!
“I’m sorry, I…I can’t do this.”
“Maybe I should come back later.”
Maybe I should curl up into a ball and die.
“Maybe you should.”
Could that have gone worse? Aqil was right, I should have talked to Caleb beforehand. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Ugh, I need to talk to Aqil. Can I call him right now? What time is it in Bridgeport anyway? Oh god, I’m going to have to admit I didn’t tell my parents about him.
‘Oh, you wanted me to TELL my parents? I thought you said you wanted me to pretend you’re my roommate, make my mom cry then drink away my sorrows. Talk about lost in translation.’
Maybe I can tell them in a letter. A letter I'll deliver in forty years time. Or maybe I could put one word from it in every movie I work on. Yeah, insert the word 'Dear' in the current one and continue on from there. Put some effort into my cowardice.
The next morning…
“I thought I might find you in here.”
“I do have a hotel room. I’m not sleeping rough in the art gallery.”
“No doubt.”
He doesn’t believe me. Maybe I should show him the receipts. Wait, what? No, don't be stupid. He doesn't care.
“You always were obsessed with this place as a kid. These paintings right here just looked like a loada scribbles to me, but you seemed to see something in them. ‘Course, you seemed to think taking off was okay, so what the hell do you know?”
“I didn’t think it was okay.”
“Still did it, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t…I…am I like your brother?”
“Why would you want to know a thing like that?”
“I just want to know.”
“This is exactly why…Look, when my brother did…what he did, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop worrying that whenever I lost my temper, it meant I was just like him. Like maybe we were the same somehow. I didn’t want you growing up with all that. You shouldn’t be worrying about that stuff.”
“But I do.”
“Zach, I don’t know what goes on in your head. I can’t give you some kind of break down of where your personality came from, no-one can do that. But I knew my brother at your age, and I know you, and you two are like night and day.”
“Trust me, my brother wouldn’t sit looking at these scribbles with you.”
"You know that's why I left. Right?"
"D'you want to talk about that in the art gallery?"
"No. Not really."
“Come on then, let's go see your mother."
“You can go right ahead and take a bath, we've still got some of your old clothes lying about."
"I don't really need-"
"I said you can go take a bath."
He's making me do this so he can talk to mom. I wonder what they're saying. Oh, I bet he's frigging telling her I didn't have anywhere to stay last night.
I guess mom took all our posters down.
Man, what do I even have in here? I knew I should have gone back to the hotel.
God, I haven’t worn cargo shorts for years. I’d forgotten I ever even owned cargo shorts. Aqil would find this hilarious.
Oh no. Please don’t cry again, please don’t cry again.
“I’ll leave you two alone.”
Please don’t.
“Hi mom.”
For chrissake say something else.
“…so...”
“Hi Zach.”
Awkward.
“So your dad said you were at the art gallery.”
Oh god, please don't start crying again...