For what it was worth, Sarah was nice. She simply hummed in response and didn’t ask any more questions. We existed together, taking up space to pass the time. After years of social isolation, it was odd, but it was… nice. Maybe even a little bit freeing.
Apparently,we were going clothes shopping. When Crescent got back, he’d proudly announced the idea, despite my fear and hesitation about it.
He said it was highly unlikely we’d run into Jude at a clothing store that was an hour away. I wasn’t so sure, but maybe that was just the fear and trauma talking.
Being outside the apartment was both exciting and scary. I’d been cooped up in there for so long, I’d started to get antsy. When I got antsy, or if I needed to run away, I’d go to the park and sit with the daisies. At the park, I didn’t have to worry too much about people or how to exist in the real world. I just sat off to the side, looking like some weird guy who was oddly obsessed with the flowers.
Here, where it seemed like there were hundreds of people walking around, I was just some guy. Some guy,stumbling around, constantly looking left and right for invisible danger, clinging to some other guy. It didn’t sit right with me. Being a part of society in this way.
I had been hidden away, locked into a suffocating house with my obituary etched into the wood of the porch and my blood splattered over the doorknob. Thatfuckingdoorknob.
“Come on, Sunshine.” Crescent nudged me along, guiding me into a smaller store.
The nickname still gave me flutters in my stomach, no matter how many times he said it. I refused to think too hard about it. The store had maybe four people in it, two of them looking like they worked there.
With so many options to peruse, I found myself getting overwhelmed. I didn’t know what I liked or what I didn’t anymore. Back when we were teenagers, I just threw graphic T-shirts on and called it a day. Now, though, as a grown man? I didn’t know what worked and what didn’t. What was appropriate at my age? What was socially acceptable?
I said yes to a few plain shirts, tried on a million jeans, let Crescent throw some shorts into the cart, but I didn’t know if I actually liked any of them. We went down aisle after aisle, and I was too uncertain to say anything about any of it.
Until we passed the sleepwear, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a mannequin with a poster hanging beside it. On the poster, a man stood with his head held up high, a bright smile on his face. He wore what looked like a simple black shirt and a gold chain around his neck. Except the shirt rested above his stomach, flowing with probably fake wind from the photographers. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, or the mannequin wearing the same outfit.
Crescent had stopped when I did, unbeknownst to me. “Do you want to go look for it?”
I startled a bit, whipping my head around to face him directly. “What?”
“The shirt you’re staring at, silly. It’s okay if you do.”
Looking back at the poster, I shrugged. I did, but I wasn’t so used to getting something I truly wanted anymore. Crescent being so willing to get it for me felt wrong, almost. Like I was taking advantage of a kindness I hadn’t deserved.
He reached for my arm slowly, something he’d started doing recently whenever he was going to touch me. “I think they’re over here. They might have different colors and styles we can look through.”
Did that mean more dressing rooms? I hated those things. They were cramped, with a huge mirror staring right at me, with lights far too bright for human eyesight. I followed him either way, wincing a little bit every time the shopping cart’s wheels squeaked.
That was something I hadn’t missed about the outside world. Jude always did the shopping or had it delivered to the house. Despite not being a very populated store, it was still overwhelming with the shitty, loud music blasting through the overhead speakers. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but it seemed Crescent was determined.
We stopped in front of the assortment, and Crescent had been right. There were five or six different colors to choose from, ranging from super bright to black and gray. He didn’t say anything, letting me explore at my own pace.
I swept my hands through each one, rubbing the material between my fingertips. They were all so soft and delicate-feeling. I was drawn to the darker colors, picking out a black and dark gray one.
Holding them out to Crescent, I peeked at the size tag. “What do you think?”
“I think.” He grabbed the black one by the hanger. “Ifyou want these, we should get them. You’d look great in them.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, dude. Do you want to try them on real quick? You may need a smaller size with these for them to fit properly.”
And go back into those dreaded dressing rooms again? “No. I… I think I’m done for now. I can put these back if you’d like.”
A quiet sigh and an eye roll. “We’re getting them. If they’re flowy, oh well. It’ll add to the look.” I let him take the other one and add it to the cart, just thankful we’d be leaving now.
After he paid, I helped Crescent carry the bags as we headed further down the strip to get some food.
I hadn’t even realized it, but I was quite hungry. My stomach was growling, and instead of ignoring it, we were sitting down to eat. Crescent had ordered both of us a portion of chicken fried rice with some egg rolls and water. A whole meal for me, and the same for him. No inequality. No smaller versus larger plate.
The round metal table we sat at was painted a light blue. Some of it was chipping, falling through the holes, and leaving it looking splotchy. It sort of reminded me of when we were in school. Outside the cafeteria, there’d been a whole outside area where students could eat if they wanted some sun. Instead of being painted blue, though, they were red. I remembered how the light would gleam off them, distorting the color even further where it’d faded. Bright, vibrant red mixed with sad, flaking pieces of something closer to pink. From the outside, you could tell what it was supposed to be, but it was so distorted and changed. The paint was trying to be something it wasn’t anymore.
Like me.
