Aiden felt so bad. He’d hardly been able to concentrate on his story. Damien had looked so sad when they’d parted ways earlier in the day. He poked himself in the forehead with his stylus and let out a slow sigh before checking his phone. It was well beyond dinnertime. He’d just gone down to meet the delivery driver—who just so happened to be his friend Tommy picking up some extra cash for the weekend instead of studying like normal—and grabbed his Korean-style fried chicken order. It sat in the box on the counter, untouched while he wrestled with his thoughts. With a sigh, he stood and snatched up the container of steaming, sticky goodness.

He slid his slippers on and walked to his door. He steeled himself before opening it and taking a few long steps across the hall. With some hesitancy, he knocked a few times on unit 5-6 and waited. After a few seconds, the door opened a crack and Damien’s beautiful light brown eye appeared from the darkness. It was hard to see him, but his face looked red. Unnaturally red. He hoped his new neighbor wasn’t sick.

A plume of smoke left Damien’s lips, and Aiden scowled a small bit at the thought of Damien trying to hide the fact that he was smoking indoors. It didn’t smell quite right, though. Not like tobacco. It smelled more like… sulfur. How odd. Maybe it was a cologne or something. Alt guys and goths often did weird things like that to stand out and make a statement, he supposed.

“Hey?” Damien questioned quietly.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Aiden asked.

“No, I was just… existing.”

“Existential crisis?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Uh.” Aiden lifted the box up. “I ordered too much food, I was wondering if you wanted to come over and have dinner? I don’t think a protein bar and a banana is considered a well-rounded meal.”

Damien’s face lit up. “Yeah, let me throw on something more appropriate and I’ll be right over. Thank you.”

“Yep, I’ll leave the door cracked.”

Damien closed his own door and Aiden walked back over to his unit, flipping the safety latch to ensure his neighbor could get in. He set the box beside the container of fries and grabbed a few cans of cola from the fridge. A set of clean plates were brought out and the box of chicken was finally opened to grab a serving. He wanted the drumsticks and didn’t feel like sharing.

A few minutes later, Damien let himself in. He had on an oversized shirt and a pair of red sweatpants. His pink and black hair was damp and smelled woodsy, so he must’ve just finished a shower. Perhaps that was why his face seemed so unnaturally reddened. The sulfur smell had faded, so Aiden tried not to dwell on the weirdness of it. Damien was weird overall, so perhaps it was just his own brand of weird and he was overthinking it.

“Thanks for the invite, mate,” Damien said quietly.

“No problem, I forgot how big the portions are at this place. I was having a rough time focusing on my project so I figured I needed some carbs. The salad didn’t cut it,” Aiden replied as he handed over a plate.

“Writer’s block?”

“Art block. I wrote myself into a subplot that’s way too detailed, but I have to see it through. So the writing is done, it’s the art part I’m having trouble with.”

Aiden grabbed the roll of paper towels before he wandered over to his coffee table in the center of the room by his bed. Damien did the same and joined him, his long legs struggled to fit around the tight space. They sat on the floor and dug into their dinner.

“What’s your comic about?” Damien asked.

“It’s a space opera about a renegade princess who was pushed from her kingdom to the far reaches of the star system after an invading kingdom overthrows them, and the journey she has to take to get her crown back. It has a ragtag group of characters, cool ships, a sympathetic villain, things like that. But I had to do the obligatory side quest portion where the team has to go help someone to learn a lesson and I made a dumb alien species with so many annoying details that takes an eternity to draw,” Aiden explained.

“Sounds complex,” Damien replied.

“I made it more complex than it needed to be, admittedly, but I think the character development will be worthwhile,” he said. “Did you take a nap?”

“Yeah, I did. I feel better. I was more overwhelmed than I thought, I needed to crash.”

“I mean, you did move less than a day ago, and it sounds like it was rushed. You’re probably going to be emotionally drained.”

“Yeah.” Damien picked up a piece of chicken and took a bite. “Oh, this is delicious!”

“Have you never had fried chicken before?”

“Not like this! I like this flavor a lot, what is it?”

“It’s honey garlic.”

“I like it.”

“I ordered a twenty piece so there’s plenty. Eat as much as you want, otherwise I’ll eat it all and regret every choice I’ve ever made come midnight.”

Damien chuckled. He continued to eat, wiggling happily as he did. Aiden smiled and bit into his drumstick. His new neighbor seemed to be a little sheltered, everything was new and exciting, and he started to wonder if Damien had been running away from something. The classic ‘misunderstood child of a proper family wanting to rebel and finally taking the plunge’ kind of story seemed like it fit the bill.

They chatted for a while as they ate, mostly about Aiden’s projects and what he was learning at school. Damien didn’t seem too keen on talking about himself, and Aiden wouldn’t pressure him into it.

When they’d both eaten their fill, Aiden cleaned the mess and loaded things up into the dishwasher as Damien sat on the short porch overlooking the city with his near-empty cola in hand. He’d refused to let Aiden take it until he’d finished the last drops because he liked the flavor. Aiden quietly packaged up some of the chicken and fries in a glass container to offer his neighbor. He had a feeling that Damien didn’t have any food beyond those few items he’d purchased earlier and he didn’t want him to be hungry. He grabbed a few beers and walked over to the open patio doors before he sat beside Damien.

“Thanks for dinner, I was hungry,” Damien said as he set his head against the railing.

“I figured,” Aiden replied.

“Did you order extra for me?”

“Maybe.” Aiden’s cheeks grew warm and he popped open his beer can. He handed one to Damien.

Damien smiled as he took it. “Thank you. I left home in a hurry. Bought a one-way ticket and didn’t really have a plan other than get here.”

“Sounds like it was kind of messy.”

“Yeah. I just… couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure, my father’s demands, knowing my entire existence was moulded to take over a business I don’t care about in the slightest. It was suffocating. I knew it was now or never but the now got here sooner than I’d planned. I’m starting over, and it’s terrifying, but you’ve made it less so. It’s nice to have made a friend.”

“I know how that goes. My parents wanted me to get a real degree, the pressure was overwhelming but all I wanted to do was draw. I got a job and started saving up money, and once we graduated Margo and I moved out here and never looked back. I cut off contact and felt so alone for a long while. I got a job at the convenience store and enrolled in as many classes as I could. All I had on me was my art tablet, a suitcase, and a dream. I moved in here once a place opened up between my freshmen and junior year—thankfully my webcomic started taking off so I was able to afford it—and I carved my own path. It’s… scary, doing what you did was scary, but you did it, sometimes that’s enough. You can figure the details out later,” Aiden said, rambling slightly out of nervousness. 

He didn’t like talking about his past, didn’t like dwelling on it. But he knew exactly what Damien was feeling, what he was going through, and how unnerving and uncertain it all could be, but he also knew what waited on the other side. He wanted him to be assured it got better.

Damien seemed appreciative. The soft smile on his face was gentle, sleepy, and showcased a sense of relief.

Aiden lifted his beer can. Damien tapped his own against Aiden’s in solidarity.

“Can I stay for a while?” Damien asked quietly.

“Yeah, of course. I have to get back to work but I can turn on the TV if you want,” Aiden replied as he stood.

“I’d like that…”

“Take your time out here, the views are one of my favorite parts of this place.”

Aiden picked up the remote and turned on the television before he flopped down in his office chair. He found a slice of life anime he’d been enjoying and turned it on with the volume down low before he spun around and went back to work on the panel that had been driving him mad.

As he chewed on the stylus—a habit he’d tried and failed to break for years—he looked at the character that hadn’t quite formed the way he’d wanted him to. The quiet rebellion leader looking for hope held so much necessity to the plot, but something about it hadn’t quite formulated in a way that made sense.

With a few tweaks, he made the soldier’s eyes a little sadder. A little more liquor-colored with a burning red hue as the distant sun through the spaceship windows danced across them, and he changed the hair to pink. Suddenly, the soldier seemed more authentic, his plight for help to rescue his stranded crew resonated with the fictional version of himself. Aiden’s self-insert heroine needed a reason to keep fighting, and perhaps a connection with someone else who simply wanted to be seen, be found, would help propel his story forward.

For the first time this weekend, his hands moved on their own, his thoughts became less jumbled, and he was able to finish the panel. And the next, and the next, and the next. By the time the chapter was finished, Damien had fallen asleep on the floor and the television had gone into sleep mode.

Aiden quietly walked over to his new neighbor and grabbed one of his spare blankets, covering Damien’s much too long body before closing the patio door and trying to figure out how to sleep with the handsome man breathing so soundly next to his bed.