Neither me or Mom evoked that bittersweet night, like we did for every of our arguments. Still, to avoid a remake of the scene, I accepted to come with her at a town party taking place in the commune's function room. 

Everything was decorated for the anniversary of the mayor whom was apparently close with all the inhabitants.

Outside was a barbecue covered by sausages and porc ribs, inside were tables offering tapas, a counter with persons serving drinks, there were loud kids ; a bunch of people, and a music band different from the last time, preparing their instruments at the back of the room.

I followed Mom like a dog until we sat for diner. 

There, I sticked to my chair as the others moved like the hands of this clock facing me from afar and, when its ticker and shorter pointer had advanced forwards two notches, my tympanum needed a break.

The sun had delegated its work to the street lamps, however, it seemed the one behind the building looked unwell, head down, its gleam nowhere to be found, maybe because it had been abandoned by the moon that felt too cloudy to light up the fresh night.

Darkness was wrapping up the surroundings which let out chuckles from further away.

"I mean I'm right no ?" A feminine voice followed "Mom said when we were kids, I ignored you for a day and you cried the whole week" 

"Shut up, Mom talks crap"

"Acting all tough in front of the boys huh ?" 

"She's cooking you man, give up"

"Don't frown like that, you're too easy to tease, that why she keeps it up"

"Hey ! don't expose me like that"

I let my buttocks rest on the gravel, back leaning on the outside wall, finally able to see those shinning stars. 

Their conversation was simple yet not superficial. 

It was obvious these friends had a deep connection. They knew each other well enough, they weren't faking kindness. Instead, their sometimes harsh comments to one another were warm and caring.

Eavesdropping was perhaps creepy of me but...I had this tendency of listening to people's conversations while spacing out, and even if I was alone in my corner, I felt like I was right there, with them.

The thing is, if the day had to come where I would truly be with them, I would be wishing for nothing more than be left alone. I would be feeling out of place, uncomfortable, sick even.

"Wait, I'm gonna get more alcohol" 

"Lemme help"

Crunchy footsteps were heading towards the weirdo I was. 

If they saw me...If they saw me, then what ? 

They weren't anyone important, we would probably meet twice in our lives, they didn't know me personally. 

Yeah, I couldn't have cared less. If they wanted to judge me, insult me, hit me or ignore me, they were free to try to phase me. 

As prepared as I was, the two ended up bypassing the function room on the opposite side.

A breeze of silence made the tip of my nose cold.

"Isaac" A soft tone spoke.

"Mhm ?"

"When are we gonna tell them ?"

"Are you drunk ?"

A hurt "...No." turned the night lonelier.

"It'll be over once you go oversea anyway. I don't get what's there to say"

"Fuck, you never get shit." 

Something made of glass shattered.

"Shit Yacinthe your hand !" A worry hissed in an instant.

"JUST FUCK OFF" There was a loud bump, after what shoes trampled on the ground in my direction.

That is when I realized. 

I realized that, that icy voice from just a second ago had been a facade which crumbled the moment Yacinthe thought he was alone. 

The ocean in his iris overflowed.

The look on his face was one filled with a pain that had rotten within his guts forever. He broke down in front of a stranger and, ashamed, ran away.

Appeared in front of me right after, a person covered in dirt. 

To my presence Isaac froze. A scowl expressing a saturated mix of several emotions "Shit..."

Body turning to follow the runaway, his ready to go foot twitched to the sound of the two other friends. 

His head dropped instantly like a guillotine cutting off his will.

"What happened ?" The embrace holding bottles slightly lowered.

To his sister's confusion, Isaac waved it off. "Yacinthe was too drunk so he went home"

Lou sighed "You two fought again, I swear- Whatever whatever, still in for a drink ?" She shook her inventory.

Isaac nodded and Jay's arm jumped to this one's neck to lock it up "You have to apologize to him tomorrow"

The tree stopped in their walk and turned around, gaze sliding down to this odd guy whose presence had made itself invisible. 

They exchanged glances hence Isaac explained I was visiting my Mom during vacations, and somehow I got invited to drink with them.

It's not that I agreed but curiosity dragged me in a leash. 

Around the big flashlight, Lou and Jay were drinking for the fun, sipping enough to be tipsy ; Isaac was drinking to forget, gulping down the bottle when his friends were not focused on him ; As for me, I didn't touch the thing.

Lou slowly stood up to got get some food and Jay did the same, putting a palm on her shoulder. "Someone need to cover that state of yours"

"You're one to talk" 

Her laughing resonated till getting swallowed by the distance accompanied by Jay's smile. 

I eyed Isaac who was mumbling gibberish as his spine was curled up alike that previous street lamp which had lost its spark. 

In my opinion, he should have went for his pained lover, his hand should have hold onto Yacinthe even if the world had been burning. That way, the fire in their hearts would have been sure to not die. That way, the ocean in Yacinthe's eyes would have evaporated - That was just a childish poetic idea of mine.

The gibberish tried to shape into words. "I'm sorry...I will be better"

'You should say it to him' I thought.

Isaac snatched from his pocket a machine of dopamine. 

I peeked at the screen while he was staring at a photo of a photo, full of what was said to be love, in which the blue and brownish honey were tender for one another.

"This...was before it all started..." 

They indeed looked younger, maybe in their first year of high school.

"We were hanging out while I acted like Yacinthe had never confessed to me a year ago"

As much as Isaac meant what he had said to Yacinthe, a part of him obviously wished to tell the world about everything. 

His mumbles were lost in nostalgia, forgetting about the present. 

"Back then I wanted things to stay as they were...without this...weird shit"

Weird shit...

Somehow Lou and Jay were taking their fancy time to get food. Isaac ramble grew more detailed about everything he remembered, even the shameful moments.

As someone who tended to visualize things when reading books, listening to music or to someone's narrative, the story of Isaac and Yacinthe began to play like a movie in my head.

Each scene was clearer than the sun which was melting the reality around.

Two childhood friends slightly closer than the average.

Teenage hood introduced the concept of dating and their bond slowly felt different than how it used to be. 

"It was...messier" Isaac watched the past in the dark surrounding "Like a storm"

When they were fifteen, Yacinthe confessed, however Isaac acted deaf even towards his own nascent greed. 

Two years later Yacinthe kissed him and Isaac was unable to pull away, the desire stronger than his will.

These were things that should have stayed between them. 

I don't think it was in my right, as a complete outsider, to envision their intimacy with such care, to fantasize so vividly about their supposed feelings in this performance. 

At last, the telling of what I imagined to be the core of love arrived, the more twisted side.

"Whenever I feel like I don't deserve him, like he is too perfect for the piece of shit I am...I have this urge to taint him, to bring him down in the dirt with me. To turn him so miserable that he would need me as much as I need him to even breath"

There, my own urge ignited. 

I was slowly understanding what was happening to me while I was offered the telling of their filler episodes and more.

Isaac smiled with sad brows "When we're alone I cling to him, then when we're with people..." It seemed his jaw clenched "I'm awful...I yell at him when he's too obvious, yet also yell at him if he's is too close to others. I punch myself for yelling at him, he yells at me for having bruises, I love him even more because he cares so much yet I always make him cry and I hate that as much as I love it."

A common saying was that humans were paradoxical. I think I liked that.

"I love to see every part of him, the joy, the anger, the fear, the sadness, I want to see it all and more. I'm fucked up, he must hate me" 

The alcohol made Isaac's eyes emotional. 

"He hates me... Being hated by Yacinthe is a blessing in disguise, I love when he glares at me, smiles at me, stares at me, I love him so much I could die, I could kill. Loving him isn't enough, I have this urge to know whatever he thinks, whatever he does each second. To share every passing and useless thoughts together, to feel exactly what he feels. If we could become one, share the same soul...If I could touch him and read his mind..."

Listening to this, grew the same perverted satisfaction that gnawed my lonely soul every time I watched a show in which the relations between characters were extremely well depicted, with a contrast between flaws and beauty, although in my case, I found the flaws to be the core of this beauty.

In any work of fictions, in Isaac's story - I wasn't so empty. I was ecstatic.

I have no idea how Isaac was capable of pronouncing such things out loud. Even if drunk, this was too shameless, too honest, meeting too greatly my expectations of a perfect unperfect  love story.

"Yacinthe is an angel, I don't deserve to even glance at him...yet I have the nerves to do so much" Isaac sighed in his palms "I hate myself. I need to go to him now..."

"...You should"

Perhaps he had forgotten I was here. Isaac seemed astray at my vision, nevertheless that was not what was important at the moment. 

He stood up, lost balance, straightened up, and wavered away phone to the ear.

I grabbed the light to head inside. Then, Lou and Jay's absence took all its sense for the two were lying dead on a sofa.

Mom was on the dance floor with most of the others. 

She was having a blast and I concluded she wasn't sobber which already made me uncomfortable, however I took it upon myself since I was leaving soon.

After a twenty minute episode on my phone, Mom walked to me to ask if I wanted to go home. To my honesty she gave her goodbyes to her friends and on the way to the car I realized I was wrong, Mom was sobber. 

A quiet relief flowed in me.

"Mom" I attached my seatbelt "How about I come back live here next year ? " 

Little did I know, the day I would come back to this town, would be the day of her funerals.