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Realistic or Modern Oh So Golden

“Oh, yes.” She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You spend 23 years of your life with someone, you’d think you’d know them, right?” She forced herself to breathe. “I think that’s what hurt us most.”

“Poor Marlon kept blaming himself. The bullying got so bad, poor baby tried to… Well, he went through some very tough times. Some kids almos- uh, I decided it was safer if we moved away.”

She shrugged, smiling at the picture of the little child in her arms. “But we got through it. We’re still here. We’ve got each other’s backs.” Smiling, she reached out to pat Casper’s arm. “And he’s kept on moving forward.”

At that moment, Marlon emerged from the hallway. Now dressed in comfortable pajama pants and a pink Pusheen unicorn shirt, he took a seat on the couch. Noticing his mother’s just-cried face, he looked to Casper, puzzled. “So, uh, what’d I miss?” He said, chuckling a bit to lighten the mood.
 
Casper patted Diane's hand, careful not to displace it from his arm, frowning sympathetically. He couldn't relate to what she was saying, but he was trying his hardest to put himself in her shoes. Twenty three years. That was longer than he had been alive...

He continued trying to place himself in her shoes as he looked at the picture of young Marlon thoughtfully.

Jumping as the pressure on the couch changed, Casper turned to look at Marlon wide-eyed. He glanced him over, then smiled. "You look cute."

Then he processed what Marlon had asked, and he pursed his lips, turning to Diane. He suddenly wondered if his question had been appropriate, and how Marlon would react if he knew what the pair had been discussing. Would he be mad at Casper? If he was, would he go so far as to hit him?

Casper shrugged, gaze dropping to where his hand sat on Diane's as he worried over theoreticals.
 
“Hah, thanks!” said Marlon, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. He blushed a bit, as he was hoping Casper would notice it.

Glancing between his mum and Casper, noticed his mum clutching an old family photo, and Casper looking concerned. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what was casting a somber mood over the conversation.

“…Is this about dad?” he asked his mum.

“Well, honey, it came up,” she nodded.

Marlon’s dad was embarrassing to him – not the fact that he left, but the fact that his dad held such bigoted views. He didn’t want the old man in his life; not until the day his dad shed those ideas and decided to make amends. That day hadn’t come; and no one in Marlon’s household was holding their breath.

“Yeah… I figured we’d have that conversation eventually.” He leaned forward, resting his face in his hands, and glancing towards Casper. “Spoiler alert: My dad was kind of a dick.”

Diane bit her lips and gave a singular nod.

“But we’re not like him! Please don’t think we’re like him!” Marlon said, almost apologizing. “Y-you’re not put off from us, are you?”
 
Casper nodded in confirmation, guilty and a bit sad that Marlon had been able to guess what this was about so quickly. He finally looked up as Marlon spoke, surprised. He wasn't mad. Granted, if Marlon was going to be mad, Diane probably wouldn't have told him, but he didn't fully process that. His surprise turned to sadness as Marlon continued speaking. He couldn't imagine thinking that poorly of his daddy, even if he did things that made Casper sad a lot.

Casper perked up at the end, eager to reassure Marlon, moving the hand not on Diane's to pat Marlon's arm before saying, "Of course not! I think..." He paused, blushing as he looked down. He'd only known these two a couple days- less, in Diane's case. What would Aaron say?

...Aaron wasn't here, was he?

He recollected himself fast enough, smiling up at Marlon. "I think you two are great..." he admitted shyly.
 
“Whew!” He said, laughing a bit, still trying to de-escalate the tension he perceived.

“We think you’re great, too, Casper.” Diane said, offering a reassuring smile.

Leaning in to give Casper a hug, Marlon said, “You don’t have to worry about the old man. He doesn’t come around. And if he did, there’s no way in Hell I’d let him give you trouble.”

Marlon worried that Casper feared the return of old Dimitri Giannopoulos; he himself feared that the old man would storm back into their lives, and like a homophobic Godzilla, he’d kick down anything and stomp on anyone that didn’t present their gender and sexuality in a way that catered to his sensibilities. But that was the monster Marlon had constructed in his then-fourteen-year-old mind. In reality, Dimitri did not care so much as to Google his son’s name – let alone track him down and exert control over his life.

Diane, having the experience that comes with age, had made peace with the situation. She just had to keep moving forward, away from toxicity, away from people who wanted to break her son’s spirit or rob him of his identity. His disappearance wasn’t unexpected – though her husband had been gone from the household for a few years, he had emotionally walked out of their marriage before Marlon was born.

Turning his attention to his mum, Marlon motioned to Casper and said, “At least his dad seems pretty cool.”

“He buys you art stuff and let you come here, right?”
 
Casper turned to Diane, eyes wide. She barely knew him, but... she thought he was great? He started to smile, eyes sparkling. "Thank you..."

Casper leaned into the hug, turning to rest his head in the crook of Marlon's neck, taking a breath. He wasn't really worried about Marlon's dad coming back, not even fully processing what implications his return might have for Casper himself. Instead, he simply enjoyed the hug, if a bit guilty that the reason he was able to was so bad.

Smiling despite the clench in his stomach at the mention of his dad, Casper nodded, turning to Diane. "He's really nice to me. He got me gouache and some new brushes, which I really like, and for my birthday I got new markers."
 
Marlon – and Diane – were simply overjoyed to have a new positive influence in their lives. After Marlon’s terrible experiences with past friendships, she was, perhaps, overly eager to welcome good people into their lives. As tough as he tries to act at work, there was an emptiness in Marlon’s heart, and he sought to fill it with someone to love – a kind of love that was different than what he shared with his mum or Rafael.

The feel of Casper’s head in the crook of his neck – it sent a delightful shiver down his spine. People usually only landed in his arms because they’re related to him, because he’s practicing grappling with them, or because he’s fighting them. There was something so novel – and so enjoyable – about the feeling of Casper in his arms.

“That’s so nice!” said Diane, knowing nothing about art supplies, but nonetheless happy to hear that Casper’s dad gave nice gifts.

“It must be nice to have a supportive dad.” Marlon seemed a little wistful.

Then the evening news returned, its jingle accompanied by an authoritative man’s voice, “Our top story tonight: a deadly mass stabbing at local restaurant put four people in the hospital, and claimed the lives of two others, including the suspect.”

The news anchor continued, “Why officers said it was justifiable to use lethal force.” These words accompanied by a clip of Rafael and Marlon in uniform, casually standing outside some strip mall Tex-Mex restaurant. Beside them was a mess of ambulances.
 
Nodding, Casper was about to talk more about his father, when the news drew his attention. Casper's eyes widened as he listened, and his lips parted as he saw Marlon and Rafael. He turned to Marlon, then back to the screen, speechless as he felt tears begin to well up. Marlon and Rafael had killed someone, right? That's what the news was saying? For someone already constantly on the edge of tears, this was nearly enough to push him over.
 
Oh shit. Oh shit. Marlon glanced between Casper and the TV, and his heart nearly stopped.

“Whoa, the news is just full of depressing shit!l” Marlon scrambled to grab the remote and make the news chatter stop. Seeing what he had interpreted as horror in Casper’s eyes, he asked, “You okay?”

The words I’m sorry you had to see that were on the tip of his tongue, but to say it would be tantamount to confessing...
 
Casper stared at the screen even as it was shut off, only reacting when Marlon asked if he was okay. And then he felt like an idiot. He was about to cry in front of someone he liked. Who cared if he had killed someone? Marlon was a police officer, it happened sometimes. It shouldn't have driven him near tears, especially when Marlon was someone he really liked- someone nice to him, who liked that he was cute and was cute himself. He couldn't embarrass himself like this.

His hands went to cover his face as he nodded, asking, "Where's your bathroom?"
 
Marlon sat, dumbstruck, unsure of where to go, what to do, or what to say. Watching Casper’s sweet face for any signs, suspenseful seconds felt like an eternity. He knew he could put two and two together. With anyone else, he’d vocally and emphatically defend his actions; with Raf, they’d high five and laugh. They were war buddies, they’d seen it all – such things became in-jokes. Humor, after all, can be a coping mechanism. But with Casper, things were different. Marlon wanted to apologize. He wanted to show that he wasn’t monster or some kind of mindless killer. But there he stood, frozen; unsure if Casper would even want the touch of a man whose hands had taken a life within the past few hours. And he didn’t even catch the question.

“Bathroom? Down the hall, first door on the right, dear.” Diane chimed in.

Marlon’s eyes widened, hoping he’d buried his bloodied shirt deep enough in the hamper.
 
Casper watched Marlon, waiting for some kind of response, but he just looked at him. It make him feel like he was doing something wrong. He wanted to apologize, to say he wasn't always such a huge baby, but the truth was that he was. He cried constantly, and sometimes nothing made him happy. He was such a child, and he knew it, and-

Oh. That's where the bathroom was. He nodded, hurrying into the bathroom, beginning to sob as soon as he entered. Shutting the door quickly, he gave the room a look-over. Being in a bathroom seemed to bring all his emotions to the surface, and he found himself sliding down quickly enough. He cried it out, then went to dry his face, pouting when he realized he had messed up his makeup and might as well scrub it all off.

This was what happened when he cried, he reminded himself. This was a risk, on top of everything else. Makeup as off as he could manage, face less red from a splash of cool water, Casper wiped their face... and noticed the bloody shirt. It made him want to cry all over again, though he wasn't sure why.

He exited the bathroom.
 
Marlon’s eyes followed Casper as they left the room. Still full of concern, he stayed fixated on his friend, even after the door shut.

As soon as Casper was out of earshot, Diane laid her hand on her son’s wrist. “Sweetheart, did you get hurt?”

That snapped him back to reality. “Uh, well… The suspect came at me. I got a little cut. Nothing major.”

“I didn’t even feel it when it happened.” He pulled up his shirt, revealing a bandage on his side, easily the size of his palm. Though the dressing was fresh – he had changed it when he showered – it was already soaking through with blood in the shape of a diagonal slash. “I changed into an extra shirt I had in the car… But that one got messed up, too.”

Covering her mouth, she gasped in horror. Minor injury or not, it broke her heart to think of someone trying to slice her son open.

“Medics gave me a few stitches… It wasn't deep or anything. I just have to keep it clean, and it should be fine.”

And for those few minutes, he was so wrapped up in explaining his injury, he hadn’t even noticed that Casper had exited the bathroom.
 
Casper just stood there, wide-eyed, listening to what Marlon had to say. His face grew soft, lips curving just slightly down, eyebrows tilting up. For a second, he felt bad. Marlon had been injured, and he'd been busy crying in the bathroom. He didn't do anything to announce his presence for a moment, instead chewing on his lip.

Finally, he asked, "...Does it hurt?"
 
Marlon looked up, eyes wide. Taking in Casper’s freshly washed face, that look of surprise gave way to a soft smile. He hadn’t put together why his makeup was gone – or that he’d been crying. All Marlon knew is that Casper was beautiful with and without makeup – and even cared about his pain. That made his heart flutter.

“Nah, ‘tis but a flesh wound!” He said with a jovial lilt in his voice, lowering his shirt gently. The truth was, it hurt a little, especially when he pressed on it or his side scrunched up.

Diane, on the other hand, knew firsthand what it was like to lose your makeup when crying in the bathroom. “Casper, sweetie, are you okay? That cider didn’t make you sick, did it?”
 
Casper couldn't help but smile when Marlon did. He loved the way Marlon smiled- it made his heart sing. Casper giggled as Marlon spoke, delighted to get the reference. His smile froze a bit as Diane spoke. He turned to her, smiling reassuringly as he nodded, pushing up his glasses. "Mhm! The cider didn't make me sick. It's really good!" As if to emphasize this, Casper reached for the cup, taking another sip from it."
 
Casper’s giggle was so contagious. Marlon was relieved to be able to lighten the mood with his quip – and glad to hear Casper didn’t get sick from the cider. That would’ve been embarrassing as all get out.

Diane smiled, and gave an understanding nod. She felt something was unresolved, but didn’t want to press the issue any further. “Glad you’re enjoying it!” She said of the drink as she ran her fingers through her hair, as if combing it.

Sophie jumped up on to the couch, cooing happily and pleased as ever to see that her new friend was still here. She even tried to nudge her way onto their lap.

“You’re so good with her,” Marlon said, beaming at how much his cat liked Casper’s company. In the wistfulness of his voice, one could almost feel his dreams of the future, of the good times that he, Casper, and Sophie would have together. “I hope you can have a kitty someday.”
 
Casper's hand mirrored Diane's, and he smiled softly at her as he sat down, only for Sophie to come over to him. He gasped, smile widening as he looked at her, letting her back onto his lap. As he began to pet her, he looked up at Marlon, wide-eyed. It was shocking to him that someone could be so wistful over him, and he found himself smiling more as he finished speaking.

"Me, too," he said, looking down at Sophie as he continued petting her. He was content to simply sit in silence for a moment, just petting a cat, happily living life, before finally he asked no one in particular, "How's your day been?"
 
Diane almost spoke, but paused, giving her son the first chance to answer.

“Hah, well, I survived.” Marlon said, reaching over to scratch Sophie’s head. Part of him wanted to share with Casper every twist and turn of his battle with a knife-wielding maniac, but his rational mind knew that normal people don’t talk about that.

“And I get to be here with you!” he added in. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week!”

He was fixated on Casper’s features, and how the warm glow of the fireplace cast light on their face. He stared, lips parted, trying to cement this moment in his mind to revisit later. Sophie purred and rolled onto her back, getting a little frisky.

Snapping himself back to the conversation, he mirrored the question. “So how’s your day been?”
 
Casper smiled as Marlon spoke, lighting up when he mentioned how much he had been looking forward to their meeting.

"Me, too!" he said, barely preventing a happy wiggle as his free hand went to pet his hair. And then Marlon was staring at him. He froze for a moment, running through his head all the things that could be wrong with his face, with what he had said. The silence crushed him, so obviously he started talking. "I thought about you a lot, though I couldn't really text you- I was studying a lot." He pouted.

He perked up as Marlon snapped out of whatever that had been, smiling again as he was asked about his day. "Good! Better than most days- especially because I get to see you! I have a B in English!"
 
“Sorry,” Marlon chuckled a bit, realizing just how odd it was to stare at a real person sitting right in front of you. When it came to attraction, he was used to a parasocial life lived through screens – not one where the looked-upon can look back. “Sometimes, I... Just can’t take my eyes off you.” He blushed and ran his hand over his head.

But hearing about Casper’s excitement to see him brought the spark back to Marlon’s voice. “Congrats! Good on ya for getting a B in English! Man, back in school, I used to love English. What’s your favorite subject?”
 
Casper's heart fluttered as Marlon admitted he couldn't take his eyes off him, and they were both blushing now. Casper went to nibble on his finger.

He grinned as Marlon commented, clapping. "English is nice," he said, "but it's hard." Then, he hummed, thinking as he chewed more on his finger in thought. "...I like Art, though... It's fun, and I don't get bad grades in it." Despite his worries of Marlon thinking he was stupid, this still just slipped out.
 
“Yeah, English is hard.” Marlon was, frankly, a bit insecure about his decision to drop out of school and enlist. He wondered if students – particularly, Casper – judged him for giving up on academics. “I liked it – don’t know if I was any good at it, but I liked trying.” He giggled.

“I bet you get good grades in Art…” He sighed, a little bit dreamy, thinking back to the pictures he'd seen of the park. “I’d like to try doing some art sometime…” He traced his finger along the sofa, observing the patterns he could make in the soft suede. “Maybe you could show me how?”
 
Casper nodded, giggling a bit back. "That's better than me-" Casper admitted, "I don't even like it..." Leaning forward a bit, he whispered in Marlon's ear, "It makes me feel sick..."

He pulled back quickly enough, smiling. "I do!" He gasped. "I'd love to help you do art! It's- well, it's easy for me, but I practice a lot." He nodded, suddenly quite serious.
 
Marlon giggled, too. But he felt for Casper, and his feelings towards for school. “Awww,” said Marlon, leaning in and whispering, “I don’t blame you. I don’t miss school at all.” He hoped his mum didn’t hear that.

He was excited about Casper’s enthusiasm to teach him. “Really? Thanks!” He knew he’d be a complete disaster in the beginning – but he was willing to push through those initial awkward stages, especially with Casper by his side. It made him a little nervous to show an inadequacy in front of his crush, but this was a skill he wanted to learn, it seemed like the best opportunity to learn it. After all, it was pretty embarrassing the first time he rode a motorcycle, too, but he was committed to it, and learned to love it.

Remembering Casper’s bag, Marlon asked, “Oh, hey, did you bring any of your art with you?”
 
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