“Well, she said that there is an open position in their spring performance, and she would love to see you audition once you getback home. And your father has already agreed to make a hefty donation to their arts fund. So I think we’ve got this one in the bag.”
Staring down at the cobblestone ground, I grimace to myself. “You don’t have to do that, Mum. Really.”
“Oh, Colin, don’t be so humble. This is how the world works, darling. Do you think every part and every position in the world has been cast based on merit alone? You have all of the tools to succeed, Colin. And we are going to make sure that you do. Your father and I want nothing more than to see you achieve all of your dreams.”
Yes, but I want to actually achieve them.
“I know,” I reply. “And I appreciate you.”
“I know you do, my love. Oh, I cannot wait to see you this weekend.”
“Me too,” I reply.
“And I’m sorry your father has to be out of town,” she adds with regret in her tone.
I wish there was a part of me that felt a hint of disappointment at this news. But it’s as if all of the emotions regarding my father have already dried up. Every moment of his time spent with his other family no longer burns the way it used to. And that’s sad. Because it means a part of me has died.
My mother and I are left with awkward conversation where we don’t bring up topics like the fact that he has another wife and two other children, one of whom I believe is graduating from primary school this weekend, hence why he won’t be available to come to my university graduation.
They are the upgrade, after all. When it comes to families, we are last year’s model—no longer new or valuable to him.
“All right, Mum, I really have to get back to packing,” I say, desperate to escape this conversation.
“Yes, dear, I understand. I love you, and I will see you in just a few days.”
“Love you too, Mum.”
After the call ends, I turn around to find Declan standing against the wall, cigarette hanging from his fingers.
“Why the long face, Shakespeare?”
I let out a sigh as I shove my hands into my pockets. “I don’t know. I don’t want this to end, I think.”
“Hey, we could always fail all of our exams and do another year if you want,” he says, making me smile.
“No. We’ve got to move on. We’ve got to grow up,” I say.
“Do we have to though?” he asks.
Declan’s plans after uni are essentially to continue painting and making art. And he has that privilege. His family is incredibly wealthy. His parents left him a hefty inheritance. And he technically doesn’t need to work another day in his life, which is great for an artist, but I can tell it is incredibly unfulfilling for Declan.
He’s like me. He wants the blood, sweat, and tears that come with any struggle in life. He’s tired of being handed things and denied the opportunity to have to actuallytryfor anything. We are both missing the grit and labor that comes with a normal life. And I know it’s pretentious of me to complain about being so wealthy, but no one else on earth will know how this feels except for him.
“My mother has promised me that she’ll get me a role in some play in the West End,” I say.
Declan’s eyebrows shoot upward as he stares at me. “Wow, your mother really does love you,” he says, making an obscene gesture.
“I meant with money,” I reply, slugging him on the shoulder. “I meant they’ll make a big donation and pull some strings because somebody knows somebody, and I’ll get the part, and not because I’m a good actor. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s not fair,” he replies, “but nothing ever is.”
Isn’t that the truth?I think to myself.Like being hopelessly in love with my best friend for four years with absolutely no chanceof him ever loving me back. There’s certainly nothing fair about that.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I remember our conversation last night and the final words Declan said to me before we fell asleep. His little joke of an offer to sleep with me so I don’t graduate a virgin. Deep down, I know I should be a little offended by this. Being treated like a pity fuck. Acting like just because he’s a man, I would want to sleep with him at all.
Of course, I really do want to sleep with him, but he doesn’t know that. I lay awake last night, wondering and replaying scenarios in my head. Like, what if that offer was real? What if I did take it? What would that be like? Would he enjoy it? Would he hate it? Would he do it just because he cares about me?
But what if he did? What if it was incredible? The best sex of my life? Setting the bar so high that no one could ever possibly even dream of reaching it?
