Chapter 21

The sky outside had completely darkened. The room was unlit. They couldn’t see each other clearly, but it didn’t matter. They lay lazily in each other’s arms, as content as cats by a fireplace. The sheets and duvet had been changed, and their bodies and hair were clean and fresh.

Felix’s hair carried a pleasant fragrance, and his body emitted a sweet, citrusy scent. Erik couldn’t help but move closer to him, savoring the enchanting aroma.

He noticed Felix was staring intently at the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking, while I still have the courage,” Felix said.

It wasn’t a complete sentence. Erik waited for him to continue, but it didn’t come.

“…Fuck, this is so hard,” Felix said, covering his face with his hand. Then he seemed to remember something.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “Listen to this,” he said, putting the earphones into Erik’s ears.

Music began to play. A cheerful French song. Erik wanted to share the other earphone with Felix, but the latter shook his head.

Erik listened to the entire song. Of course, he didn’t understand a single word.

“Tryo,” Felix said. “The song is called ‘Serre Moi,’ which means ‘Hold Me,’ ‘Grasp Me.’ What do you think of it?”

“Felix, I don’t speak French.”

“I know. I’m asking how it makes you feel? What does it remind you of?”

“Hmm, it’s lighthearted, a bit humorous,” Erik considered. “It’s probably about a happy theme: bright sunshine, whistling happily while walking down the road, something like that.”

Felix chuckled. “Exactly, the melody is like that.—It’s a complete lie.”

He moved away from Erik’s arm, lying flat on his back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

“Let me tell you what the lyrics are: ‘I’ll nail your body to the cross, can I tear off your wings? Kissing you while biting you, digging my nails into your burning back. Please come back to me, do everything, do anything, watch you come and go.’

“‘Come, take me there. Give me your hand, I won’t take it. Strip off my wings, let me fly away, leave you immediately.…Come back to me, it’s best if you leave like this, I’m not sure what to do; in the end, we’ll always tear each other apart, so what’s the point of rebuilding.…Hold me, embrace me, until I suffocate because of you.’”

Erik felt a chill run through his body. Partly because of the eerie lyrics, but mostly because of the tone in which Felix spoke.

“It used to be my favorite song,” Felix said. “But now I don’t want to hear it for even a second.”

He turned to look at Erik.

“Erik, when was your first time?” he asked abruptly.

Erik was a bit surprised, but he answered, “A few days before my seventeenth birthday.”

“Do you think…guess when my first time was?”

“Thirteen?” Erik hesitated. “You said you came out at thirteen.”

“Discovering your sexual orientation has nothing to do with sexual experience,” Felix said. “If someone finds out during puberty that they can’t get hard looking at pornographic magazines or videos of naked women, and only men appear in their wet dreams, then they don’t need to have sex to know they’re gay.

“And honestly, my coming out was impulsive. Because my family…my parents were going through a divorce at the time, and I was in a rebellious phase. One day, after a big fight with my dad, I came out, mostly to piss him off.—And he really did get as pissed as I wanted.”

A shadow passed over his eyes.

“My dad’s a complete asshole. Never did any housework, almost never gave money to the family, all of it went into his own shop—his so-called grand career. I was pretty much raised by my mom alone. And this bastard actually blamed my mom for ‘corrupting me with her French ways,’ turning me into some kind of genderless thing. He cheated on my mom with other women, and just because he was sleeping with women, he thought he was so much better than me, some guy who wanted to sleep with men—can you believe it?” he said mockingly.

“Thanks to him, by the time I was thirteen, I’d heard every homophobic thing imaginable. He said I’d definitely do drugs, sleep around, party every night, end up drunk and passed out on the street, sleep with everyone I met, curse me for getting piercings and eventually contracting AIDS. I told him he was completely wrong, because he was a scumbag and I wasn’t, so I’d grow up just fine, make a lot of money—more than he could ever dream of—buy his crappy shop and burn it down; and I’d find the best lover, I’d only love one person for the rest of my life, something a cheating, lying bastard like him could never understand.” He let out a short laugh.

“So, I didn’t sleep with anyone until I was nineteen—for the sake of my grand dream of love, to prove that I was nothing like what that asshole said.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik said softly.

“Why?”

“Because before, I thought you’d had many lovers,” he admitted. “I didn’t think you were promiscuous or anything…I just thought, someone as beautiful as you…there must be many people who…like you.”

Felix looked at him. The shadow in his eyes deepened.

“You’re apologizing too early, Erik,” he said. “Just because I wasn’t promiscuous back then doesn’t mean I wasn’t later.”

Silence fell. Erik reached out and took one of his hands.

Felix said, “But you don’t need to worry. I’ve never had unprotected sex, and I’ve always gotten tested.—I was promiscuous, but I didn’t throw my brain away too.” His tone was mocking.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Erik said.

They were quiet for a while. Then Erik lifted their joined hands and placed them on his own chest.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

“When I was nineteen, I met Zeno,” Felix said. “The guy who called last night.”

He let out a long sigh.

“I don’t know how to describe our relationship. It’s been too long, everything’s mixed up. From nineteen to twenty-three, everything in my life seemed to be about him, and yet not.

“He was my boyfriend—most of the time. We broke up a few times, but even when we were together, he was always dating and sleeping with others. We started with an open relationship. That’s what he wanted; it was far from my dream. But I accepted it. I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love.

“Zeno always thought my ideas were ridiculous. He thought monogamy was a heteronormative cliché, meant to tie a man and a woman together to raise kids, and only brainwashed fools would unquestioningly accept such a stupid setup.—I’ve thought a lot about it since. I don’t think he was entirely wrong; but I think the problem was that we were just too different. Like how we understood that butterfly.”

“Butterfly?”

Felix took Erik’s hand and placed it on his side.

“The tattoo here used to be a butterfly,” he said flatly.

“Before Zeno and I got together, he once asked me how to describe the feeling of falling in love in German, and I told him it was like ‘having butterflies in your stomach,’ the same as in French. Zeno laughed and said it was fitting, because butterflies only live for a short time, a few weeks, or months, and then they’re gone.

“The next day, I went to a tattoo parlor and got a butterfly inked on my body. I was very shy back then. I wanted to tell him that my feelings for him would always be there.—But later, a few months later, when we finally spent the night together for the first time, I found out he had completely forgotten about it.

“The design was beautiful. Zeno loved it, and he’d often kiss it when we were in bed. He told me there was a song he liked that also mentioned a butterfly, ‘The butterfly flies from flower to flower, from one heart’s love to another.’ He printed out the lyrics and gave them to me—it was ‘Serre Moi.’

“That’s Zeno. He never lied to me—not about himself, nor when he moved from one lover to another—he was too smart and too stubborn to bother. He shattered many of my illusions, letting me know from the start that our relationship wasn’t ideal. But it was my first love, and at that time, you always think things will change, that the other person will become what you want.

“The last part of ‘Serre Moi’ has a few lines: ‘Two grains of madness in the wind, two burning souls, two children.’ Zeno said that was us. Later, the rest of the song came true too. He complained that I was suffocating him, that I was trying to nail down his hands and feet. He came and went, we tore each other apart.

“We fought, more and more fiercely, but we were still together all the time. We were working on an IoT collaboration project at university, and the first phase went well. Someone was willing to provide seed funding to start a company. We were full of hope, thinking we’d be one of those lucky internet darlings, making enough money to never have to work again by thirty. The venture capital firm said we had to meet their metrics within three months. During that time, Zeno stopped dating—there was no time, not even enough to sleep. And I had to apply for a delayed graduation because I’d missed too many classes. But I was actually happy: I liked the feeling of us being together, working as a team against the world.

“In the end, we got the investment. We were overjoyed and decided to celebrate. That night, we went to a party with the other project members. We danced, kissed, talked about our startup and our plans for the future, everything seemed perfect—like we were standing at the threshold of heaven, just a step away, and that beautiful future was as certain as tomorrow. Zeno kissed me over and over, saying we’d been through so much together, and now we’d enjoy the happiness we deserved.

“Then he said he was going to get another drink and disappeared. I went to look for him but couldn’t find him anywhere. Finally, I found him in the bathroom, fucking someone passionately behind a stall.—That’s when I realized the happiness he was talking about wasn’t the same as mine.”

He smiled bitterly.

“I left the party alone and went to a bar to drink. Later, I texted Zeno that it would be better if we took a break, and he agreed almost immediately, as if it was a relief to him.…Then, when the bar wouldn’t serve me anymore, I went somewhere else, drank more until I blacked out, and passed out on the street.—Just like my homophobic asshole dad had said I would.

“That night, I slept on a bench in the town square. It was cold, and I woke up a couple of times but couldn’t move. I remembered my dad saying that because I was a damn pervert, my head was full of abnormal thoughts, and my dream of a great lover was just one of them.—For the first time, I thought he might have been right. How ironic.

“When it was almost dawn, I sobered up a bit. Someone came over and asked if I needed help, so I went to his place…That was the first time I slept with someone other than Zeno. I didn’t even really see what he looked like.”

Erik instinctively tightened his grip on Felix’s hand. But Felix gently pulled his hand away.

“It’s fine,” he said calmly. “These things don’t hurt me anymore. I just find it hard to talk about them because I feel ashamed.—Very ashamed.

“After that, we still worked together. Zeno said only fools let personal relationships affect their careers, and I didn’t want to quit the project. I didn’t want to seem like I cared in front of him. On the other hand, I hadn’t given up on my dream of making a lot of money.

“We signed the agreement with the investors, started the company, and had a year to meet all the metrics for the next round of funding. So, I worked late every night. If I still couldn’t sleep after that, I’d go to gay bars and sleep with anyone who wanted to—if anyone wanted to.”

He thought for a moment, then said, “Something else happened during that time. There was a boy…I don’t know his name, I never asked the names of the people I slept with back then, who came to the university to see me a few times. He asked me out, and I agreed. But when I saw him sitting neatly dressed in the restaurant waiting for me, I panicked and ran outside. At the door, I ran into someone I’d seen a few times at the gay bar—I might have slept with him too, I can’t remember…So, I started making out with him.

“I know the boy saw us. I hoped he’d leave and stop bothering me. But he walked straight up to me and asked, ‘Why do you choose to be an asshole?’

“His voice wasn’t loud, but it felt like a slap, making my vision go dark. I looked at him: he was probably eighteen or nineteen, clean and innocent. I think his question was genuine, he really didn’t understand why—just like I wouldn’t have understood back then.

“I don’t know how I answered him, or if I answered at all. All I remember is running home in a panic and crying my eyes out there.”

Erik moved closer to him. He wanted to hug Felix, or hold his hand, or do something to express—he wanted so badly to comfort him. But Felix clearly didn’t want that. He exuded a cold aura that kept Erik at a distance. He kept talking on his own.

“Some time after that, Zeno suddenly showed up at my place one day. He told me he’d thought about it and still wanted to be with me, that he was willing to try a monogamous relationship for me because of love. It was the first time he’d said he loved me.

“That should have been the happiest day of my life. But what I was actually thinking was, I wish I could stay in this moment, or else just die.—I guess that’s what you think when something feels too good to be true: you’re terrified, and deep down you already know it’s not real; but you want it so badly that you’d rather wish for death than wake up to the truth.”

He paused, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought for a moment, then said:

“We moved in together, and that’s when the real nightmare began. Every time Zeno didn’t answer the phone, went out without saying anything, or came home late, I thought it was a sign he was going to break up with me. Because by then, I knew him well enough, and we’d already talked about it so many times, I completely understood how much he hated this kind of relationship: feeling like he was going against his will, feeling humiliated, feeling like he wasn’t himself anymore—just like I’d felt in an open relationship; he was just trying to compromise for me, like I’d compromised for him before.

“Two or three months later, I found out he was on Grindr again. I didn’t say anything. He knew I’d found out, and he didn’t say anything either. It was ridiculous; compared to before, our relationship had just gone from an openly open relationship to a sneaky open relationship. But I’d rather keep it like this than go back to how it was when we were broken up, at least this way I didn’t feel like such an asshole.

“We kept working on the project, trying to keep the startup alive for the next round of funding, but everything was harder than we’d imagined. I realized how brutal the funding game was, how it would weed out anyone or anything with the slightest weakness. At the same time, my thesis deadline was approaching.—That’s when I had my first panic attack; soon after, I had a second one. Fortunately, both happened when I was alone at home, so it didn’t cause any problems. I chose to hide it from everyone I knew; I was terrified it would get back to the investors…At that time, I seemed to have lost trust in everyone.

“Then came that day. I drove to another city to meet our project’s investor, and he told me that because the startup’s results weren’t good, they’d already written off their investment and told me not to come back, to start closing the company immediately. I walked slowly back to the parking lot and got a call from the professor’s secretary, telling me that since I’d missed the thesis deadline again, I wouldn’t be getting my degree.

“I sat in the car and called Zeno. He didn’t answer. I realized what was happening and dialed the number over a dozen times. He finally picked up. I asked him straight out if he was seeing someone, and he said yes.

“I hung up. A minute or two later, he called back and asked what was wrong.

“I started cursing at him with some really nasty words. He got angry too and asked if I was insane. I accused him of ruining our relationship and destroying my life.

“What he said next is something I’ll never forget.

“He said, ‘I’ve never lied to you. I’ve always been clear that I only accept open relationships, I don’t accept this society’s stupid rules about monogamy—I live my life by my own standards. For you, I was willing to try: I really did try. You know it didn’t work.

“‘And you, from the very beginning, you’ve been lying to me: you pretended you had sexual experience, lied about being okay with an open relationship, when really you were planning to get me into a relationship and slowly change me. If you’d told me you were nineteen and hadn’t slept with anyone because you were waiting for a great love, I wouldn’t have touched you, I wouldn’t have had anything to do with you.’

“He hung up after that. I felt cold all over.…I’ve never been so cold in my life. I was shaking uncontrollably.…At some point, I was driving on the highway. It was snowing, the air was white, and my mind was blank…until I remembered I had a large utility knife in my pocket. I always carried it. It was useful in certain situations: I’d once used it to cut a guy who tried to have sex with me without a condom. Once I thought of that knife, I couldn’t stop thinking about it—to this day, I’m not entirely sure what I wanted to do with it at that moment.

“Then the panic attack hit. My vision blurred, and I felt like I was watching another version of myself driving, with a knife in my pocket…something was squeezing my lungs, I couldn’t breathe, needles were stabbing my hands and feet, my heart was pounding in my head. I thought I was going to die, or that I’d already gone mad.

“I must have passed out for a while, and when I woke up, the car was on the side of the road. I saw some people outside the window, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying, and I couldn’t speak. They disappeared soon after. Actually, it was because the car door was jammed, and they’d gone to get tools. But at the time, I thought they’d given up on me.

“…I was almost certain I was going to die. But I could still move, and I felt the knife in my pocket, pulled it out. My clothes were torn by the ice scraper stuck in the car door, revealing a corner of the butterfly’s wing. I stared at it, and the only thought in my head was, I can’t let it stay on my body. When they come to bury me, I can’t let myself go into the ground with his mark on me.

“So, I did it. I stripped off its wings. Made it leave my body.”

He stopped.

Silence enveloped them again, like the darkness filling the room.

Felix suddenly reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. In the sudden warm golden light, he turned onto his side and looked directly at Erik.

“Now, you know some things about me,” he said calmly and wearily.

“Erik, do you still believe what you thought of me before?”

Erik placed his hand on Felix’s slender shoulder. He looked into the other man’s eyes and said:

“Felix, you know I’m not good with words. But you really are exactly what I thought you were, from the very beginning: you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Felix didn’t respond. He quickly turned away, using his arm to cover his face. Erik leaned over, pulled his arm down, and drew him into his embrace, then kissed his face and fingers.