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After leaving Bandi, Ryan’s life became filled to the brim with schedules. Every minute was meticulously planned and painfully executed with an uncomfortable sense of loneliness despite Naim’s constant company. But a year passed, and then another, and suddenly the strict schedules, pockets full of lighters, and strange codependency became normal and the entity faded like a distant nightmare from a past life. This was Ryan’s first mistake—letting a curse that was permanently imprinted into his mind slip away from his consciousness when he heard a whisper telling him he was capable of finally living, in love and in freedom. His second mistake was letting a boy fill his mind so incessantly that he no longer had any room for fear. Although fear was the match to gasoline that created this torture, it was how they remembered to survive. Ensuring Naim’s survival was so integral to Ryan’s life that he seemed to forget he was surviving too.
Ryan lifted his wrist in a ritualistic movement, 4:48 pm—Naim would be home at five. Ryan skimmed over the frozen meal aisle before picking one at random and slipping it under his hoodie. The cold quickly seeped through his thin t-shirt and sent goose bumps down his arms. He began to leave quickly, checking his watch every minute. He needed to get home exactly when Naim did, it was their routine, their ritual—breaking the routine even by a minute felt like committing something illegal. Not that Ryan cared much about actually being a law-abiding citizen, the world was already unfair enough. However, Ryan’s rule-breaking had become part of his routine and was therefore much too careless. He no longer even bought anything small to hide the fact that he was shoplifting.
Ryan felt a stern hand grip his shoulder before he stepped through the sliding glass doors. The doors automatically opened and closed twice uselessly before Ryan accepted his fate and turned around.
“Take off your hoodie.” The stern hand belonged to a stern voice that came out of the stern mouth of the hopelessly big security guard. Ryan’s blood ran cold.
“What?” He feigned ignorance, but his pitch was much too squeaky to be authentic.
“Don't play dumb with me, boy. We've got heaps of footage of you stealing over the past couple of months,” The guard said, annoyed.
This time, Ryan’s heart dropped to his ass. He was completely and utterly fucked. He lifted his watch again, 4:54 pm, Naim was steps away from their apartment now.
“Ok look, I’ll just give it back, okay?” He lifted his hoodie to hand the box back but the grip on his shoulder just tightened.
“I don't want that, I want you to come with me while I call the manager, and then the police,” The security guard added with a depraved smile, like he was deriving pleasure from Ryan’s pain.
Ryan checked his watch again, 4:55 pm, Ryan and Naim usually met outside their apartment at this time. Like clockwork, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Alright I fucked up ‘m sorry, please just let me go though my boyf—” Ryan cut himself off with a cough, even though he had escaped his constricting small town and lived in a much more progressive city, the intrinsic reflex to hide never left. “—My girlfriend is really sick and can’t be home alone.”
“You can save your sob story for the police but right now you have to come with me.” His voice rose with a finality, leaving Ryan trapped.
His phone buzzed against his thigh again. A sudden vision of Naim entering an empty apartment looking for Ryan but finding something else waiting for him raided his thoughts and he reached for his phone with a jerk.
Surely enough there were two missed calls and three “Where are you??” messages waiting for him. A new message popped up, “Im really worried Ryan please answer”, Ryan felt like he was going to throw up.
The security guard began to drag him away from the customers, but Ryan wasn't done making a scene. “Can I call her real quick? She’s worried sick,” Ryan pleaded, no longer having to fake authenticity, he was terrified.
“Once I have you somewhere where I know you can’t run for it, you can call whoever you goddamn please,” The security guard gruffed.
But Ryan didn't care about running or the police or the fines he would never be able to pay anymore—All he could think about at that moment was calling Naim and telling him not to go home, to go somewhere safe.
True to his word, the guard dragged him into an empty employee break room, mumbling some threat about pressing more charges if Ryan tried to escape before he finally left to call the police. The door locked with a click.
Ryan fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it as he scrambled to click Naim’s number.
Naim answered before the phone even had a chance to ring. “Ryan, where are you?” His voice wavered like he had been crying.
“Hey, I’m sorry I got into a bit of trouble at the supermarket. Just wait for me at a cafe or something nearby, yeah?” Ryan tried his hardest to sound calm and collected, If Naim was freaking out he couldn't be too.
“Trouble?” Naim exclaimed frantically. “What the hell’s going on?”
“The fat cunt security guard at Woolies caught me stealing on the security footage. But it’s no big deal babe I’m sure the police dont have time for this anyways.”
“The police?!” Naim practically yelled incredulously, causing Ryan to flinch. He had clearly failed at trying to calm Naim down.
“Dont worry okay? It’s going to be fine”
“I'm coming. You’re at the Woolworths on our apartment block right?” Naim’s voice was no longer wavering, it was firm.
“No! Naim don't come, it's fine, I can handle it,” Ryan pleaded.
“Im coming.”
“Naim wait-” The call ended before Ryan could finish, effectively ruining any attempt at diffusing the situation. Ryan scrubbed his hands over his eyes and sat down on one of the metal chairs, feeling the extent of his exhaustion from a ten-hour shift seep in. The rush of adrenaline at the thought of Naim in danger gave him a false sense of alertness and now he was just a harrowed and exhausted shell of himself. He stared at his hands until they stopped shaking and began twisting the ring around his pointer finger. It was a silver band that connected into two wings—a one year anniversary gift from Naim. They had never really proclaimed themselves as dating, but still counted the day on the bus leaving Bandi as when they started. That was the day they had decided to be completely devoted to each other for the rest of their lives, even if it was never spoken aloud. Naim had said something totally cheesy about Ryan being his guardian angel when he had given him the gift. Ryan smiled at the memory of Naim, bright red and sheepishly stuttering out an explanation while they sat eating pancakes at the 24-hour diner.
As if on command, Naim burst through the door, his breath ragged and his face bright red. He doubled over, hands on his knees, as he caught his breath.
“How the hell did you get here so fast?” Ryan exclaimed.
“I ran.” Naim choked out between breaths, “Obviously.”
Ryan smiled, as much as he hated people doting over him, it was nice to remember someone loved him enough to sprint across the city to him. He stood up to brush Naim’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes.
“You really shouldn't have come,” Ryan said softly.
“I wanted to see you. I hate it when we're apart. You don't always have to handle things on your own, y’know? You try so hard to hide your burdens from me, but I'm here for you always, I see you. You know that, right?” Naim held a soft hand up to Ryan's face, cradling his jaw.
“I know, I'm sorry.” Ryan felt his eyes welling up with tears, all the things he kept tied tightly together threatening to unravel and spill out. He pulled Naim into a chaste kiss, but Naim’s hand was firm on his jaw and pulled him in deeper. Ryan leaned in further, allowing Naim to open him up, and see all the brokenness and shame that his mouth couldn't form the words for. But Naim didn't just want his words—he wanted his heart. The kiss became deeper, rougher, and Ryan felt the sting of teeth against his lip and the coppery taste of blood fill his mouth.
“Naim stop-” Ryan tried to pull back, but Naim was stronger, both palms planted on his jaw and neck. A surge of panic froze Ryan and the realization hit him like a slap in the face. This wasn't his Naim.
His heartbeat roared in his ears, and before he even had a chance to think, his muscles remembered to reach for the small silver lighter in his pocket. His fingers wrapped around the cold metal but as he tried to retract it, he was sent flying across the room like he was weightless. His back slammed hard against the dull wall, shaking a picture frame to the floor. Glass scattered at his feet. Ryan tried to get up, tried to scream, but that thing was already there, forcing his rough hands around Ryan’s throat.
He slammed his head against the wall once, and then again, and Ryan felt nothing but the dull sting in his head and warm liquid dribbling down the back of his neck. All the time Ryan had spent strategically avoiding the entity had enraged it, and it was here for revenge, to kill. Ryan reached for his pocket again, but the entity was smarter now too. He had infected Ryan’s mind and could guess his every move.
One hand left his throat and gripped his elbow, twisting it backward in a swift, unnatural motion. Ryan screamed in pain as his arm fell limply at his side.
“S-Stop” Ryan tried to cry out but the hands gripped his throat tighter, killing the words and the breath in his throat. He tried to scratch and kick at the entity but it was useless, nothing he could do could save him now.
The entity began to slam Ryan’s head against the wall again and Ryan’s vision became dull and vignetted around the edges. The noise his head made against the wall felt like it was a distant rhythm from another room. He felt like he was witnessing this happening from outside of himself, like when people testify the existence of a higher power because they have an out-of-body experience. But Ryan knew better and knew he wasn't destined for any spiritual realm. He was just slipping into permanent unconsciousness, leaving his physical form forever.
But Ryan still wished for a higher power at that moment. Not for himself, but rather for Naim. For who would meet him at 5 o’clock sharp every evening, and sit on the cold toilet seat while he showered, and kiss away his tears when he woke up crying from a nightmare. No one else would, and that was what scared Ryan the most.
Ryan forced himself to open his eyes even though he hadn't had any energy left to spare, and stared into Naim’s face for the last time. It wasn't really him, but he was going to die and he wanted to look into the eyes he loved for one last time. He could pretend the eyes that were bearing into him loved him too.
Ryan closed his eyes and felt himself crumple to the floor. Ryan heard shouting but everything was becoming so distant, like he was sinking down further into the ocean. Water filled his mouth, his ears, and his head as he slipped away.
When Ryan opened his eyes for the first time after what felt like forever, he was blinded by a bright fluorescence. A new surge of panic filled him at the unfamiliarity of the room. The dull white walls and blinding ceiling lights were nothing like his dim and cozy apartment that Naim insisted on only being lit by warm-colored lightbulbs. He looked to his left to see a very familiar face in the unfamiliarity of the room but his breath hitched. He hated the way he flinched and the way Naim noticed it and frowned.
“It’s me,” Naim said softly, brushing a light hand against Ryan’s cheek. Tears rimmed his brown eyes and one spilled down into his lap. “I’m so sorry Ryan.”
Ryan didn't know what to say, he was too busy being shocked at the fact he was still here, still alive.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were alone?” Naim’s voice cracked at the end like he was holding down a sob. He clearly had been crying for a while—his whole face was swollen and red. His hair stuck up sporadically like he had been running his fingers through it for hours. Ryan loved it though, the messiness just made it more clear that it was his Naim.
Ryan knew it was inappropriate but he couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. He pulled Naim in closer so he could plant kisses on his tear-stained cheeks. Naim’s frown just deepened.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Because,” Ryan said plainly, “I love you and I'm glad I get to tell you again.” Ryan’s voice sounded weird and gravely like he had a bad cold. It made sense though since his windpipe was nearly snapped in half.
“But that's the problem Ryan, you nearly died. What the hell happened? Did you have your lighter on you? Why were you alone?” Naim started crying again, hiccuping and stuttering over his words. Ryan wished he would stop, it hurt more to see Naim like this than to feel his own injuries and his head hurt like hell.
“I’m sorry baby, I didn't realize.” Ryan stopped smiling, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on them. “I tried to fight back but other Naim has gotten so much stronger. It was like he knew exactly what I was thinking when I reached for my lighter.”
Naim’s eyes widened in fear, a pitiful expression flashing over his face. “Please don't call it that.”
“What?”
“‘Other Naim’. It isn't me. I would never hurt you.”
“I know that. I’m sorry.” A heavy silence befell them. Ryan finally noticed the rhythmic beeping coming from the heart monitor he was hooked up to. He looked down to see the thick white cast covering his right arm.
“I’m so sorry Ryan, I should have been there.” Naim spoke when he couldn't bear to sit in silence any longer.
“It’s not your fault. I should have been more careful. I guess I was just too worried about you going home alone that I didn’t even realize that I was the one who was alone.” Ryan regretted it immediately after he said it. Naim’s face somehow looked even more pained—Ryan didn't know it was physically possible to look this distraught.
“Ryan,” Naim said softly, his voice more even and sure. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Yes?” Ryan asked.
“Promise me that if there is a situation where we are both in danger, you will put your safety first.”
Ryan scoffed, “You know I can't promise that.”
“You have to,” Naim pleaded, “I can fight it on my own if I need to. But to live the rest of my life without you? I couldn't bear it.”
Ryan stared into Naim’s desperate eyes for a moment, contemplating his request. As hard as it was for Ryan to accept, Naim was right. Surviving only worked if they did it together. If Ryan failed to survive, Naim would end up like Jessica, crazed and alone even though she was around people every day and night. Or at least that’s what Ryan hoped would happen to Naim. If the roles were reversed and Ryan lost Naim—Ryan would succumb to his entity immediately just so he could see Naim’s face one last time.
“Ok, I promise,” Ryan sighed, “I will never leave you until we’re gray, wrinkled, and old. I’ll die moments after you do, so you never have to live a second without me.” It sounded dramatic, but he meant every word of it.
“I don't know if I should be flattered or worried,” Naim said with a lighter tone, his depressed demeanor broken.
“Why would you be worried? That was totally Romeo and Juliet of me.” Ryan smiled again, wide and unguarded. A small smile began to tug at the ends of Naim’s mouth too—Ryan was endlessly grateful for this, it washed over him like medicine.
“I don't like that you're insinuating that you would kill yourself if I died,” Naim said, in his best attempt at a stern tone.
“Well..” Ryan shrugged, “It’s not like I would stand a chance against my entity when I'm 80 years old anyways.” Although the recent encounter with his entity had scared him shitless, Ryan had still accepted his fate a while ago. The curse was just a simple fact of his life that he would have to live with, no crying or pretending would make it go away.
Naim scrunched his face up in thought, “Do you think when we are that old, our entities will still look like us now? Or will they be old too?”
“Hmm.” Ryan pretended like he was genuinely pondering it for a moment. “Depends if old me is a pervert or not.”
“Ryan!” Naim yelped, playfully swatting at Ryan’s good arm with a gentleness that made Ryan’s heart swell with joy.
“What?! I'm dead serious,” Ryan said, but the huge grin spreading across his face said differently.
“I'm blaming the concussion and the fact you're on painkillers for why you’re acting this way,” Naim rolled his eyes in mock annoyance while Ryan cradled his face with one hand, wiping his tears away with his thumb.
“Or maybe I just like to be a cunt.”
“Yeah I’d believe that too. You drive me crazy.” Naim pulled Ryan’s hand away from his face, intertwining their hands into his lap.
“You love me.”
“Even though you’re a criminal?”
“Oh fuck,” Ryan had forgotten about the whole ordeal leading up to the attack. “They’re not still pressing charges, are they?”
“I don't think so, but you’re definitely never allowed back.” Naim rubbed his free hand over his tired face. “They think you’re some lunatic that tried to kill himself over a shoplifting fine.”
“Aww man, that was the closest store to our apartment, we already have to walk so far to do our laundry,” Ryan whined. Ten months ago, after they had finally scrounged up enough money to pay for one month's rent in a one-bedroom apartment, they got banned from the neighboring laundry mat. Naim had forgotten to take a lighter out of his jeans before drying them. It ended with them getting screamed at by a lady in another language, running out of the laundry mat, and abandoning half their burnt wardrobe. Ryan checked Naim’s pockets every time they did laundry from then on.
Naim smiled as they shared the memory. After it had happened, Naim felt terrible. Ryan told him one day they would laugh about it, and he was right.
Ryan stared at Naim’s upturned lips. He loved how even in the chaos and uncertainty that plagued them after an attack, they would still fall back into domestic simplicity so quickly. Even though the curse had created a demon that would one day hold Ryan’s bloodied heart, it was impossible for Ryan to live his life terrified. For Naim had leaned in closer and held Ryan’s hand to his mouth, kissing it gently.