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He hoped the younger man would come, despite the hour and secluded space chilled by the slow progression of a waking dawn. Murdoc lifted his wrist, noted the time and returned it to the hollow railing which supported him, rusted in patches from the recent onslaught of rain. He inhaled, ignoring the coppery smell, seeking solely to catch the fragrant dew, which glinted sleepily up at him from the deadened leaves upon which they sat in chipped, ceramic pots near the tips of his boots. Someone had been hopeful in their gardening once upon a time, but the wet weather had conjured to life a patch of lush, green clovers from the base of the decay.
Murdoc laughed quietly. How specific a metaphor at such a specific time.
The kiss of lingering nightfall sent shivers down his spine. Tugging at the collar of his jacket, his body went rigid at the grinding of metal against metal of the sliding glass door opening and closing behind him. Then, the scrape of shoes against wet concrete.
Murdoc turned and caught 2D walking towards him. The man had his hands shoved into his denim pockets, a wrinkled baseball tee hanging off his slender frame from under a blue and green jumper. His hood was pulled up, though unable to restrain the shaggy strands of azure hair that fell around his angular face. His white eyes struggled to stay open, unscored by dark, reddened circles brought on from sleeplessness and an emotional forty-eight hours.
Even in his zombie-like state, Murdoc stood entranced by the remaining illumination of life that emanated off him against the darkness of the balcony. Pink lips parted and eyes focused everywhere but on Murdoc, 2D ran a hand over his face as though pulling off the mask of sleep that left him in a daze, and situated himself against the railing.
Rummaging through his jacket pocket, Murdoc produced a battered pack of cigarettes and held the opened end out to him. 2D nodded, pulled a stick out and accepted a light from Murdoc with a raised eyebrow.
“Wot is it, then?” He blew the smoke out of the opposite corner of his mouth.
“Figured you needed something a bit more than that rock I gave you.”
“Oh yeah? At bloody five a.m.?”
“Let me guess – you only just fell asleep ’round four?”
2D nodded and yawned.
“I’ve told you not to leave the tele on.”
“Don’t,” 2D snapped, finally making eye contact with him. “You don’t get a say, Murdoc. Not now, not ever.”
Murdoc smirked. “I’m not even away for long and you’ve suddenly grown a backbone, eh?”
“Someone had to wrangle the lot of us.”
“It’s hard work, isn’t it?”
“Maybe for you, but they actually like me. I’m not a tyrant.”
“Fair enough.” Murdoc leaned on his elbows, dangling his cigarette over the railing as he scanned over the sleeping city below. “So, what is it, then? Are you unhappy I’m back?”
2D shrugged. “It’s all the same. It’s not like it won’t ’appen again.”
“The goal this time is to not let it happen again.”
“Bullshit, Murdoc. You say that as if you’re mad enough to believe it.”
“Seeing is believing, kid, and I’ve seen some shit.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve shit, too, mostly because of you, always when I don’t want to. So yeah, I don’t believe you, and I definitely am proud of who I am now because of it.”
Murdoc turned his head to him, a playful grin etched into his dark face.
“Tell me, then, 2D – who are you?”
The younger man shifted on his feet, his face moving in the opposite direction. He flicked at the butt of the cigarette, raining a tiny bout of ashes into the darkness, and sniffed.
“I’m still me,” he returned, quiet. “Probably more so, in fact, but with another layer. A tougher one, one forced upon me like being dipped into cement – and you’ve done it, dipped me straight in.”
Murdoc noted the bob of 2D’s Adam’s apple before 2D stared at him again, exposing his face to him completely. The tiredness was gone. His eyes were wide open, his brow a harsh line across his forehead, his lips parallel to this on his chin. The tiniest stubble grew from under his lip and along his jaw, all of which seemed out of place. It added years to his face that Murdoc had forgotten about, even though he saw his own age whenever he caught his reflection. He was well aware that 2D had grown, too, but it was much harder to detect.
In his eyes, 2D was bound in time as the youthful boy Murdoc had first met sprawled out on the pavement under the hood of his Vauxhall Astra. He was a mess then, his white dress shirt and khakis stained with grease and blood from the accident – if an accident was what it could be called. Despite his unapologetic stoicism towards the situation, highlighted with substance-induced laughter and vehement victim-blaming, Murdoc remembered how he really felt that night as the medics attempted to wipe clean the area around his mouth to better situate his oxygen mask.
Beneath the bruising and blood, he was captivated by 2D’s skin, which was a milky color, more so pale then due to his injuries, but upon future encounters and his recovery from the crash, glowed with rosy undertones whenever the emotion would bud under the surface. His frame appeared delicate in its lanky stature, as though still trying to fill itself out, yet able to withstand the weight of a car. His eyes were soft despite the haunted look of his fractures, which in turn gripped his subjects into the recesses of contemplation Murdoc knew was there, even when stupid things came out of his mouth. Staring into them was always comforting, especially when Murdoc was in a foul mood or when he was being particularly nasty and 2D was sentenced to acting as his dumping ground.
It was almost all of the time that Murdoc was certain the answers to everything were lost in the voids on 2D’s head, and he often caught himself seeking those answers, growing angry whenever he realized that he was or if 2D caught him doing so. His childlike gaze, whether in wonderment or fear or excitement, both eased and frustrated Murdoc; he couldn’t remember a time when he looked at the world with such innocence and optimism, and 2D was a constant reminder of that, especially as he overcame every obstacle Murdoc both purposefully and unintentionally forced into his path.
Sadness swept through Murdoc as he stared at him. The luminescence of 2D’s spirit was dimmer. It was probably that layer cement concealing it, the atrocity that Murdoc was to blame for. He accepted it wholeheartedly, but without words to acknowledge such an admission. Instead, he found himself taking in every new crease at the corners of 2D’s eyes, every stray hair that caressed at his high cheekbones and the quiet push of air from his nostrils as he breathed.
Murdoc could see the conflict in him. He was acting tough, or maybe he was tough, but the underlying fear that 2D held onto whenever he was this close to Murdoc was prevalent, and it made Murdoc feel terrible.
And then it happened.
“I’m sorry.” The words came out in a murmur, begat by striven, honest lips.
Murdoc’s voice was unfamiliar to them both, but it was enough to cause the younger man to curl at the waist as though his top half had become unbearably heavy. He pinched at the cigarette, cringing between quivering lips, unable to look at the older man.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Murdoc continued, his confidence resurfacing from the reaction beside him. “But before we board that plane to L.A. for Demon Dayz, I just thought I’d say that. Ya know, just in case the ruddy thing bursts into flames or you mistakenly open the exit door thinking it’s the loo.”
The cement cracked, forcing out a hearty laugh. A hint of light found its way out as well, illuminating Murdoc under the skin at the sight.
“You say it a billion times, Murdoc,” said 2D after he settled. “We all get a bit tired of it.”
“Do you ever really accept it?”
“The others don’t. Not the way I do, anyway.”
“You’re more foolish than them.”
“Definitely. But I’m also ’olding fast to ’ope that maybe one day you’ll mean it.”
He took a hit and blew the smoke out towards the skyline. Beyond the apartments and outstretched vastness of the city, a glimpse of a sunrise peeked out in a haze of gold. To himself, 2D shrugged.
“I dunno. I’m thinking it could be right now.”
Murdoc agreed with a nod and swallowed hard. Maybe he was right. The words were his, but they felt different this time around. He felt lighter.
“While you may have been dipped into cement, I was stripped of some layers while in jail. You see, there was something there in the darkness of it all that I kept seeing. Some sort of light at the end of the tunnel. Sounds stupid, I know, but it gave me a sort of hope, too.”
2D regarded this with a thoughtful gaze in his direction.
“I, uh …” Murdoc ran a hand over his face, took a deep breath and straightened up. He had a final puff off his cigarette and smashed its remains into the railing.
He continued with irritated enthusiasm, “Look, we all deal with trauma in our own ways, and while I’ve been nothing but a traumatic part of your life, I want you to know what you’ve been in mine. That light there, the one I kept seeing, it was like the sun. Of course, I wasn’t in some bloody dungeon. I saw the actual sun all the time, but this light, it was different. Stronger, bolder, honest – and every time I was downtrodden and feeling absolutely gutted and alone, I’d think about it. It warmed me, gave me something to look forward to.
‘We all aim for the stars – they tell us to, at any rate, but no one ever thinks to run towards the sun.”
“Sun’s dangerous, mate. Burn you up like a piece of forgotten toast in the toaster.”
“That’s right. It’s a gamble, a real challenge, and more than likely a feat that’ll leave one severely burned.”
“I think it’s beyond that, Muds. I think you’d die instantaneously.”
Murdoc rolled his eyes. “For allegorical purposes, tosser, let’s continue with the idea that the sun isn’t the actual sun, but the seemingly impossible feat one is attempting to run towards.” He sighed in exasperation.
“Anyway, it’s all fine to run towards something that feels nice and warm, but that you know will ultimately be bad for you. I’ve done it so many times with so many women, it’s mental. But after spending so much time in the dark, even prior to this whole nonsense in The Scrubs, I got to thinking that maybe it’s time I stop running towards the danger for the wrong reasons and take a chance on running towards something for the good. Something that gives me hope. Something that makes me think that it can’t all be bad – even when I’m too tired to try to find that optimism. Even when it annoys me. 2D –”
Murdoc faced him, a shaky hand clutching the railing for support.
“I’m terrified. I’m standing here staring at you, utterly terrified, not because of how you could destroy me, but because I don’t want to be the reason your light goes out. In fact, knowing the pain I’ve already caused you since I first met you, the pain that’s made you feel this way right now angers me. You’ve been the constant light in my life, even though I’ve never been able to admit it aloud. I’ve never had the courage to until now.”
2D’s lips fell apart. The cigarette slipped from his fingers, its embers glowing like a shooting star falling as it fell from the sky.
“Those animals in there, they’ve nothing compared to what I have on the outside. No real motivation to get better. But me, I’ve got so much. The band, the fans, the others … you. I never realized … but you were there, 2D, there in the darkness. I could see you there …”
The heat rose in his cheeks and at the base of his neck. He tugged at his jacket collar again.
“I don’t deserve your hope,” he whispered. “Just as you don’t deserve some bullshit apology. I really am sorry, Stuart. I’ll never be perfect or even good enough to truly bask in your glow, but I promise I’ll work hard at not being the reason for dimming it anymore. If you ever truly lose faith … well, then we’ll certainly all be swallowed up by darkness, won’t we?”
2D stood upright and smoothed his hood back, his hair falling around his face. The emerging yellows and golds of the sunrise caught him across the face, bringing to light that familiar rosy tint of his skin that Murdoc adored so much. His eyes shimmering and bottom lip trembling uncontrollably, 2D took Murdoc around the shoulders and held onto him. He sobbed into the older man’s shoulder.
Murdoc was tense, baring 2D’s weight but also sure that any sudden movement he made would freak him out enough to leave. He didn’t want to. For once, he stood his ground amongst the uncertainty and gingerly wrapped his arms around 2D’s chest, gripping at his jumper as though he’d finally run into the sun.
“I promise I’ll try harder, 2D. Because of you … for you.”
“Thank you,” whispered 2D, sending tingling sensations down Murdoc’s neck. “Thank you.”
He couldn’t put into words why he did it, but he knew he didn’t need to say a motive aloud. Instead, Murdoc allowed himself to follow the motions of his body, the certainty of his feelings finally there. He was strong, empowered by the other man, knowing that neither one was consoling the other; they were doing so equally. And the pleasurable validation of 2D’s words as they crept down his skin solidified the confidence he’d been searching for in himself.
He leaned out of 2D’s grip and took his wet face between his hands. Tracing the curve of 2D’s lips with his thumb, Murdoc’s shoulders relaxed, and he brought the younger man’s face close to his. He paused, hovering just before the pout of his mouth, relishing the suppleness of his cheeks in his palms. 2D sniffed. Murdoc smirked.
Then, he pressed his mouth to 2D’s. 2D reciprocated, moving his lips in sync with Murdoc’s, before he felt Murdoc’s tongue overcome his.
Excitement coursed through Murdoc, invigorating him. It was as though 2D’s light was filling him up, and that familiar warmth he’d longed for while desperate on his mattress at The Scrubs was finally his.
The city below them awoke from the first rays of the morning sun, and around them, the balcony was bathed in gold. But inside, Murdoc could feel the heavenliness of the sunrise. And even after they broke apart, Murdoc offering the younger man a shoulder upon which to rest his head, he held tight to 2D – tighter than he ever had to anything in his entire life. This energy he surrendered flowed between them both as they greeted the new day in contented, silent hopefulness.
The end.