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July 30, 2010 Orion Pagan 10:10 p.m.
“I know you always got death on the brain, Orion, but you’re killing me.” “I got death on the heart, technically.” “Oh my god, I hate you. I’m going to get a job at Death-Cast just so I can call you.” “Nah, you can’t live without me.”
If I didn’t have this stupid-ass heart, we could have all that and more.
I just got to be present. I might not make it to the future, but I can live in the now.
just keep swimming...
Freaking out about death every minute isn’t a good life, and yet, tons of people are freaking out about death every minute.
But nothing hits harder than hearing stories about those who’ve taken their own lives because we’re speeding toward a future with too many unknowns.
Here’s hoping this studio apartment expands to fit our needs like our mother’s uterus.
“Same, but the money I make tonight will buy us front-row seats to our first Broadway show.” “Don’t you mean one month’s rent?” “We need to live a little.” “That sounds like living a lot.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Val.” “Good point.”
Freedom should be freeing, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be heartbreaking.
I’d rather be planets apart as long as she’s still breathing on the other side of the galaxy.
God bless those— I stop myself, still recalibrating everything in my head and heart. Good luck to those who are basically going to be the Death-Cast test subjects. As for me, I’ve been reborn and I have a lot of living to do.
This is one of those firsts that can double as a last.
The boy looks like he’s having a hard time keeping it together, wiping the tears from his cheek. He must have a huge heart.
I don’t know if I can orbit around someone this beautiful and not just fall in love, stay in love, and die in love.
“I should go say what’s up.” “I’m loving this attitude, O-Bro, but are you thinking with your dick by any chance?” “I think I’m thinking with my heart?” “Not exactly a reliable source either.”
💀
If you’re really feeling this boy, then go carpe that diem.”
I’m going to need a guy to swear on my parents’ grave that he loves me, and I won’t even tell him that those plots are empty so that he doesn’t get funny and lie.
I should find a way to make it clear that I’m into boys too.
“Tomorrow morning I start shooting for my first national campaign. It’s for this queer clothing line made by queer designers that puts out special items year-round instead of just for Pride month. It means a lot to me as a gay boy who couldn’t have gotten away with wearing any of these pieces growing up.”
I see the smile creeping onto Orion’s face like he’s just as happy to have confirmation that I’m gay as I am to get it off my chest.
“I’d call us friends-in-the-making,” I say. “I like that,” he says.
It’s not fair how someone can do everything right and still be hurt because someone else does one thing wrong.
“I understand that the person who gets the Death-Cast call isn’t the only one dying. If you really hold someone in your heart, you die too.”
“Here’s the truth no one ever wants to admit when death is on the horizon, or when you’re deep in that grief—as long as you keep existing, you’ll keep breathing, and if you’re breathing, one day you’ll start living again.”
I really hate that Orion had to get so smart about death. But not as much as I like how much he’s going to be in my life now. I’m starting to wonder if destiny is real.
“I want to make great memories. Something to look back on whenever existing seems hard.”
“I don’t want to die,” Orion spits out. “Didn’t I say let’s be uplifting?” “Fine, I want to keep living.”
I lean into his ear. “You’re going to be okay.” It’s a promise I can’t make, but I’ll hope every day that it’s true.
I write short stories because I am one. I wish I was a novel. Breaths away from midnight, I know my final chapter is close. I look up at Valentino, wondering what life could’ve offered if I had more pages in me.
There’s a quote by the author John A. Shedd that Joaquin thinks of often: “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”
They’re not calling me. My heart doesn’t slow down, it’s still hammering as I look up and see Valentino holding his phone as it screams the warning of a lifetime.
I was wrong to think I no longer have a life to run for. I do. It’s just not my own. If there’s anything I can do to make sure Death-Cast doesn’t call Orion too, now’s the time.
Nineteen-year-olds aren’t known for dying of old age, or passing in their sleep. If I’m brought to the hospital later, will the doctors bother trying to save my life? Or will they stand there and watch me die?
It’s heartbreaking how much it costs to be alive when you’re always dying.
Those who can’t be trusted to call people before they die are better off dealing with them when they’re dead.
Andrea is positive she will have a long one here at Death-Cast.
wait- jo det är hon omg
Waiting to see if someone you love will live is excruciating. Waiting to die is miserable too.
“Thumbs up on all that,” I say, gesturing at his physique. “Ha. Thanks,” Valentino says as he puts on a white undershirt that’s less snug on him. “I really wish looking like this didn’t feel so mandatory to break into this industry. Who knows how many hours I put into exercising all so I could become a buff corpse.” “A lot of shaving too.” Valentino chuckles. “Yeah. A buff, hairless corpse.”
It’s a good thing Valentino won’t have to suffer from that nonsense.
uh oh
“What are you doing?” “Just making my bed. Is that cool? I’ll sleep under your jacket so it doesn’t touch the floor.” “No, I don’t care about that. You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” “I really don’t mind. I appreciate you letting a total stranger crash anyway.” “You’re not a total stranger. If we’re going to share a heart, we can share a bed.” Orion’s face scrunches. “Eh, technically you’re giving me your heart. We’re not sharing. But I’m not going to ignore . . .” “A dying man’s wish?” I ask. “Hey, you filled in the blank, not me.”
Orion sits up, resting his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. The plane doesn’t take off for another few minutes, so unless Death-Cast is about to call all those passengers, Scarlett is going to be okay.”
Scarlett is white-knuckling her phone, unsure if she wants to share an End Day with her brother or face life without him.
Scarlett was no longer happy to be wrong. Valentino was the first one in and will be the first one out. Unless they depart together, like a plane off to its destination, one-way.
No messages are going through. I’m scared, Val, she types anyway. She might as well get used to these one-sided conversations with her brother now.
I’ve never really been religious, but I respect other people’s shit as long as they respect mine.
There’s something so thrilling every time Valentino says he’s gay. I feel like the room should’ve lit up in rainbows so I could’ve seen the word fly out of his heart-shaped lips. But honestly, the darkness makes sense, like there’s a storm still following Valentino wherever he goes because he has parents who aren’t giving him the love he deserves. I wouldn’t win the fight, but I’d still want to swing at someone in his defense.
“Look, I don’t fuck with religion, but anyone hating on gay people because of shit the Bible apparently doesn’t even say can go fuck off.” “I like how you can swear so freely and not come off furious.” “It’s a gift.”
“Getting away from them was one of the main reasons I left. It’s part of my job to feel comfortable in my skin. To own my bones. How could I do that if I can’t be myself at home?”
But he’s not, because he is going to die today and his parents who drove him away have no idea.
“I don’t know. You’ve lost family unexpectedly, and I’m sure you have a lot you would’ve said to your parents had you known it was the last time you were going to see them. . . . Did you ever get the chance to talk to them about your heart?” “Heart stuff didn’t start until I was sixteen, remember?” “I wasn’t clear. I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking about your heart condition. I was talking about where your heart pulls you, or more who it pulls you to.”
