Fall - A Collection of Short Stories (Almond Press Short Story Contest)

by Corrina Austin

  I ran!

  In waves, I heard yelling, my panicked breath, sirens! I felt the squishy flapping of my sandals against my sweaty heels. I sprinted to toward the gate.

  Popping sounds! I barreled against a guard who came toward me.

  Whistles, and screams sounding like they were coming from a tunnel. Scarf fluttering against my ear. I ran toward the ribbon of smoke I saw from over the gate. Towards my mother. I was close enough to smell the charcoal, and the sweet sugary mix of star anise and cinnamon. I felt a sharp stab seize my leg.

  Stinging beads spread across my shoulder blade. A breeze zipped down my arm. A damp metal taste filled my mouth as I squeezed through the gate, squinting at the unusual sensation.

  I smiled, exhilarated. I reached out for my mother, but she seemed to be made of vapor.

  My breaths were jagged, the air difficult to take in. The street tunneled with every exhausted blink. My legs softened, a crowd closed in as I reached for a peddler, selling cashew brittle. I felt myself speak, but the rounded words were too heavy for my tongue. A thick warmth filled my throat. My head started spinning. The lines of the street and the surrounding houses started compressing, leaving my peripheral vision blurry. There was a cool lightness to my step as I saw myself walk in the direction my delusional mind said my mother was waiting.

  If I could make it to the bus stop, then we just needed to disappear long enough for our name to sound vague in conversation.

  Top of the World – by Patricia Pribolova

  I remembered the first day I ever saw him as if it was yesterday, locked in a strange sort of delirium, the urge to sleep hanging heavy on my bones as if I was twice my weight. His face was the first line of the last chapter, the neon sign of ‘everything’s going to change.

  “What is your biggest fear?” the interviewer asked towards the end of the Q&A. The lights were hot on my skin, the audio recorder set on the table between us catching every moment, every redundant question.

  How far can you climb before you fall?

  It was stuck on repeat in the back of my mind. The buzz and screech of a broken record, that fear of losing everything, of being shoved into a dark corner of the closet where washed out pop stars disappeared when they were no longer shiny and new.

  “Umm…”

  “Heights maybe? Or spiders?” she prompted and I wanted to agree just to give her an answer, but maybe I wasn’t too good at lying.

  “I love heights. I’m actually going skydiving next week. And I used to have a pet tarantula when I was little, so no fear there.” If only it was that easy. If I could swap my fear of failure for a fear of water or snakes; something that could be touched and conquered. “You know, I… I don’t think I have a specific one, and this will sound weird, but I kind of like it. That feeling. Being afraid means you’ve got something to lose.”

  She hummed in agreement but her eyes were already scanning the screen of her phone, on a hunt for the last few questions. I had a sudden childish urge to throw a fit just to get her attention. To have her look at me as if I was the only thing in the room. It was like a void inside me, it always had been, this hunger to be loved by everyone even when I’d never love them back.

  “Do you ever get bad performing anxiety though? Especially when you play in the big arenas with thousands of people looking at you? You’re still so young. Eighteen, right?” I nodded. “It must be overwhelming.”

  “I do get nervous right before, but that’s good. It makes me try harder and once I start, it all falls away. Then it’s just adrenaline and me singing and I love that. I love my job.”

  “And the attention, right? Must be nice to have all those girls wanting a piece of you.”

  “As long as it’s not literally,” I said, half joking. “It’s every lad’s dream to get thousands of marriage proposals a day, isn’t it? Very flattering.”

  “No significant other then? There have been quite a few rumours about the brunette model seen with you on the red carpet last week,” she said, eager for an exclusive, but that wasn’t me. I belonged to the world. To the screaming girls with their fingertips pressing into my arms, glossy lips, fumbling smiles and fluttering eyelashes. And the boys too, with sure hands and stubbly cheeks and hungry eyes that drove my management bonkers because you need to act straight. But I’d never loved any of them, not even those few I’d let close enough to touch and taste.

  “Nope. Still single. I’m travelling all the time, so getting serious with someone right now seems like a bad idea. But, you know, if I happen to meet someone who’s really worth it then… why not?” All the girls on my arm were a part of my image as a straight and narrow player, the look, maybe you have a chance too. So many people, in love with a mirage.

  “Well, I’m sure your fans will be happy to hear that, Jared. Thank you for coming over today. We know how busy you are.”

  I wondered if people would still love me if they saw the bags under my eyes hidden beneath a layer of make-up or the blotches I sometimes got on my skin when the pressure weighed on my chest like a stone. If they knew how overly loud and obnoxious and needy I got when Red Bull was barely enough to keep me going.

  With a smile on my face, I shook her hand, warm and soft. “My pleasure.”

  Maybe I was good at lying, after all.

  And it had seemed harmless at first. All the little white lies, they couldn’t be my downfall. Those glimpses of a different life had meant nothing at all.

  The fans waiting outside the building were loud and excited, hands reaching out to make contact as I made my way down the line to sign as many items as I could, their faces a dizzying mass of glassy eyes and too bright smiles.

  This was the moment the world had started to tilt beneath my feet but I’d been too blind to see it. It had been just another face, pale skin and haunting eyes. Beautiful and still, but one among many. I should have known he didn’t belong.

  For a moment I faltered, imagining what would happen if I jumped the barricades and let them drown me, to get just a little bit closer. But then my head of security, Danny, rested his large hand in between my shoulder blades to gently push me forward as if he could read my mind.

  As I climbed into the hired car with Danny next to me, I asked, “What would happen if I just jumped in among them? The fans, I mean.”

  His eyes went wide, panicked. Not a mind reader then. “You’re not planning on doing that, are you? Because I don’t get paid nearly enough for that kind of shit.”

  “Come on, they’d only hug and kiss me, maybe sneak in a bit of groping. They love me.”

  “People in love are the most dangerous ones, especially some of your fans. They’d probably trample you and tear your clothes off. Mass hysteria, J.”

  I shifted closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder. A few months ago, he would have scowled and shrugged me off. Ever since then it had become my mission to make him care. “You wouldn’t let them though. You’re the Kevin Costner to my Whitney Houston, only without the snogging part. And hopefully the shooting part.”

  He patted my knee. “Get some rest, you’re talking nonsense. I’ll wake you up at the next stop.”

  “My mum loves that film,” I slurred out, my brain already shutting down.

  It had been interview after interview, countless promos and rehearsals, appearances and performances, nights and days spent on a plane and hotel rooms too big for one person. It had been everything I’d always wanted, and yet…

  Dropping my bag in the middle of the room, I wished I had someone next to me to make me feel less alone. Just for a moment.

  You can though. Nobody will notice.

  The rational part of me insisted I stay and rest because tomorrow would be a busy day, but I’d never been one to listen to my brain. Not when the blood was roaring through my veins, making me crave the heat of anot
her body, that fleeting moment of connection.

  And so instead of collapsing on the too inviting mattress, I raided the hotel mini fridge and drained two cans of Red Bull, bouncing on the balls of my feet. It always made me feel as if my skin was too small to contain me.

  The hotel’s location was a carefully kept secret but I snuck out of the back exit anyway because there were always fans who somehow managed to find out, spreading the news like wildfire.

  Finding someone willing and attractive was easy, always had been, even before I ‘made it’.

  A boy’s lips hovered over mine and it was a thrill, addicting and dangerous, this dancing on top of a needle, stealing intimate moments in a dark alley with the echo of the voice of reason ringing in my ears. You’re stupid and reckless. If you get caught, you’ll have ruined everything you’ve worked so hard for. Maybe they won’t care you’re gay. But they’ll be furious you’ve been lying all this time.

  I didn’t stop, the darkness my security blanket. Nobody could possibly see, not with the shadows to cuddle me in, away from the curious eyes and camera flashes. I wondered how long it would take for my phone to start buzzing in the front pocket of my too tight jeans with my frantic manager on the other end, probably at her wit’s end because I’d snuck off again. I’d probably regret it later, but all I cared about now were the fingers digging into my back, the heat of him, the wet slide of lips against lips.

  “Can’t believe I’m snogging Jar—”

  “Don’t. Just… I’m not that different from you.”

  Even though my eyes were closed, I felt his grin press into my jaw. “Yeah, you’re just a regular popstar. A teenage millionair—”

  I cut him off with a kiss. This is all people ever saw. How incredibly lucky I was. The money. The fame. Loved by millions. But the thing was, if any of them ever really got to know me, not one of them would stay for the long haul. All they wanted was a piece of me. A claim. Not the whole me, not the ugly parts. And maybe that’s why nothing was ever enough and the hunger for it twisted inside my stomach like eels.

  I pushed him against the brick wall, taking a piece of him in return even though I’d already forgotten his name. My head started spinning, the alcohol I’d drunk while clubbing and exhaustion hitting me all at once, the world growing distant and the ground beneath my feet turning to water.

  I plunged down, deep and weightless. My mind was fuzzy when I opened my eyes.

  It was dimly lit, but the air was stale and sterile, my sneakers squeaking against the rubber floor as I hurried down a hospital corridor, tripping over shadows. It felt as if I’d been thrown on top of a train barrelling down the wrong side of tracks and the place around me was both strange and familiar. The right kind of wrong.

  “We shouldn’t have gone. Someone’s going to catch us,” a voice said, barely a whisper. The boy next to me was nothing like the one from the alley, not easy and bold. This one had dark hair that curled around the edges, a shy flash of a smile and thick eyelashes that dipped low enough to hide his gaze.

  “There’s no one here but us.” His knuckles grazed my wrist. He was slightly taller than me but it still felt as if he was the one looking up at me.

  “You’re a bad influence.”

  “No. I’m a fun-having influence. There’s a world of difference between the two, trust me.” There were too many questions and not enough answers and they were all a tangled mess of threads in my brain. I didn’t know how I’d got here. I should have cared because if I’d passed out and media had got a hold of my drunk gay misbehaviour, my publicist would skin me alive. I should have, but didn’t.

  I’d been naïve and missing all the signs.

  All I wanted to know was his name, yet I couldn’t bring myself to ask because everything about him was like a déjà vu insisting you should know.

  “Last time you asked me to trust you I ended up with cake batter and flour in my hair.”

  “Sorry,” I said, suppressed laughter flowing through the syllables.

  “Yeah, right.” His fingers caught the edge of my baggy white T-shirt as he gave me a lopsided smile. “I don’t mind though, and… I feel kind of horrible for saying this, but… I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Why would you fee—”

  We heard it at the same time, the faint echo of footsteps around the corner. His eyes were dark and too big for his face and it’s just a dream, but I slipped my hand into his and pulled him along to the crook in the wall anyway, my heart beating in my throat.

  I’d seen his face before, recognised the familiarity like a firm handshake, but couldn’t place it in its proper slot.

  He gripped my hand like a lifeline, trembling just enough to make me give him a reassuring squeeze. His hand filled the spaces of mine as though he belonged there.

  The footsteps grew louder and louder and we tried to melt into the shadows until a nurse came into sight. I could hear his breath catch in his throat but I was sure we were going to get away with this once she passed us by.

  Only this wasn’t a movie and she shot a sidelong glance right in our direction. It seemed to take her a moment to process something was off and then she stumbled to a halt and the clipboard in her hands met the floor with a loud clatter, colour draining from her weathered face. “T-tobiah and Jared! What do you think you’re doing here!?”

  “Taking a walk?” I tried but all I could think of was TobiahTobiahTobiah.

  “At this hour? You know it’s against the rules.” Her bright blue eyes were big and round like coins, her lipless mouth a thin line of disapproval. “I swear to God, if you’re not in your beds in five minute, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

  “Are you saying we’re not in trouble yet?” I gave her my most charming smile just as Tobiah picked up the clipboard and handed it back to her with a muted apology. The slightest quirk of her mouth told me she wasn’t nearly as stern as she wanted us to believe.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping, not wandering around giving people heart attacks. You both have check ups early in the morning and I won’t have you yawning through it.”

  “Can we snore through it then?”

  She clucked her tongue in annoyance and I saw Tobiah duck his head to hide a smile.

  “Go back to your beds. Now. If I catch you again…”

  “Got it, Chief,” I said with a salute.

  She shook her head and made sure we both entered our rooms. But what she didn’t see wouldn’t hurt her, so I waited until the footsteps faded away before tiptoeing out of my room and into Tobiah’s.

  He’d been brand new, a mystery I couldn’t help but yearn to unwrap. I’d had no idea he would be the one thing that would shove me off the edge.

  “What are you doing?” His hair sticking out of the covers was a tangled mess. “If someone finds you here…”

  “Stop worrying so much. You’ll get premature wrinkles.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think wrinkles are going to be an issue.” His mouth twisted into a grimace rather than a smile but he hid it quickly and scooted off to the side, an unvoiced invitation I couldn’t refuse.

  “This is the strangest dream I’ve ever had.” I lay my head down on his pillow, facing him, knowing I was staring but helpless to look away.

  “Is that what you think this is? A dream?”

  Moonlight shattered off his slightly rounded cheek and cast the other half of his face in shadows I suddenly despised. Had to touch him, make sure he wouldn’t disappear once I blinked. “Yes, which is why we can do whatever we want.” I smoothed my thumb over his eyebrow and temple, settled over the smooth, smooth skin stretched over his cheekbone. His eyes had slipped halfway shut.

  “You don’t want to go streaking again, do you?” He cracked one wary eye open.

  “Oh, what a dirty mind. Always knew it was the qui
et ones you had to look out for.” I shuffled closer, our knees knocking together under the duvet. “Have we done that before?”

  “You know we haven’t.” The edges of his quick smile slumped, his hand resting in the space between us crawling closer towards me, not yet touching. “You do remember, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I lied, tugging on the curl falling into his forehead. “Was just messing around.”

  “Don’t,” he said, voice unsure and anxious. I knew I’d screwed up somehow but I didn’t know why, didn’t know how to fix it. “Please, not about that.”

  “I’m sorry.” I pulled my hand away from his face, let it fall down next to his, my pinky touching his. “My mouth gets ahead of my brain most of the time.”

  He smiled, a shy stretch of lips, wordlessly telling me yeah, I know. Of course, he did, he was a figment of my own brain. Yet I couldn’t shake this feeling. This was different. This felt too real.

  Here we’d just been Tobiah and Jared, deserters on the island of my own imagination. The only role had been to be me, stripped down to the core, right in front of this not-quite-a-stranger who had seemed to fill all the dank and shuttered spaces I hadn’t known I had. Should have realised how addictive this taste of freedom could become. But then we’d started to build a fort out of the blankets and I’d laid my palm over his racing heart, the sound of it drowning out everything else.

  I woke up to voices, swarming like angry bees, arms under my armpits hauling me up. Knew the moment I got blinded by a flash, this wasn’t good. Didn’t catch us kissing, just drunk and passed out. I could still get out of this.

  You’re slipping.

  And it had been slow, like pebbles tumbling down the mountainside right before it all crumbled. It would become more frequent, but still not too much to worry me. I’d see Tobiah walk down the street or stuck in a queue in front of the ATM and then with a blink he’d be gone. I’d dream of him, as if picking up a storyline waiting only for me.