Where the Light Exists
It's a feeling that you cannot miss...
From the patch of grass in that spot in the park, you could look up and see the stars. Two boys were situated right smack in the middle of that space, gazing up at the sky. One was absentmindedly chatting about anything and everything—from the honey mustard he had on his hotdog prior to the new brand of toothpaste that was supposed to turn your mouth blue—while the other was lying on his back, a shiny pair of sunglasses placed on his eyes, despite the time it was outside.
They had been sitting there since god knows when; their first intentions were to go to Jeph’s place, down on Smith and Holland, but they had missed their bus. They stumbled across this expanse of trees while following the directions of the hobo hotdog vendor a few blocks down.
“—so yeah,” Bert finished, a large grin on his face that made his eyes crinkle. Quinn only smiled.
“Is that all?”
Quinn always asked this question, even though he already knew the answer; no. He knew well enough that his companion was never finished, even if whatever subject he was talking about was beginning to fade.
Bert smiled again, shaking his head before continuing. “And holy shit, have you heard Sonic Youth’s new album? Fuck, it sucks, man! I mean it’s just noise and...”
Quinn rolled his eyes, a knowing grin creeping up on his face. This was his friend and for the past ten years, he had learned to deal with it. While Bert continued to chat absentmindedly about music, Quinn took off his shades and looked up into the sky. He always liked stars, every inch of his room that wasn’t covered in posters, were covered with those glow in the dark stars that you’d get from dollar marts.
Bert followed his friend’s gaze and looked up. “Whoa!” he exclaimed out of surprise before pointing a finger towards the sky. “It’s so pretty!”
His companion laughed while the other simply gazed up into the vast sea of stars, mouth wide and open in awe. “They’re yellow,” Quinn said, smirking before blinking upwards. “I’ve always liked yellow.”
There was a momentary lapse of silence before Bert spoke up. “What about blue?”
“Hm?”
“Blue,” Bert repeated, pursing his lips in thought, “yellow’s nothing without blue.”
Quinn turned to him and raised a brow in question. “How so?”
“Meh-uh,” Bert shrugged. “Whenever I imagine yellow, blue’s always with it.”
Another silence. “And oceans.”
“Oceans?”
“Yeah.” Bert decided to pick up right where he left off. “Like... you know, beaches? The sand’s yellow and the ocean’s blue.” Quinn turned to him with confused eyes and he replied with a sheepish shrug, “just a thought.”
“There are no fuckin’ beaches in Utah, dumbass.”
Bert blinked. “Oh right.”
Quinn (which Bert had now dubbed as ‘Yellow’ for the time being) slapped a hand to his forehead and laughed into it. “I love you, man.”
Bert gave a childish, tooth-filled grin. “I love you too, Yellow.”
“Yellow?”
“You can call me Blue.”
“Blue?”
“God, stop putting a fucking question mark at the end of all your sentences. You’re starting to sound like a natural blonde.”
He laughed again, noisy and loud. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m sorry, Blue?”
“God damn it, Quinn!”
The other snorted, criss-crossing his legs in front of him while he rummaged through his bag. He brought out a pack of Camels and offered one to his friend. Bert rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help to smile as he took one and stuck the end in his mouth. Quinn dug even deeper into his rucksack, trying to grasp the Zippo he had thrown in the mess that morning. Successful, they took their cigarettes, cheered each other as if they were glasses of wine and proceeded to light them both.
Through a mouth of tobacco, Quinn repeated himself. “Sorry.”
Bert took a puff of his stick, inhaling the smoke so his lungs were drowned in it, before breathing it out again in little halos. He flicked the burnt ashes off of the ends of his, bringing it back to his mouth.
“Sorry, what?”
Quinn blinked and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry... Blue.”
Bert turned his head and sent his companion a bright smile and a cheery wink. “It’s okay, Yellow.”
They paused, sucking in the smoke. It was dark, so all that represented them both were two little reddish orange dots of the lit ends of their cigarettes.
“I love you, Yellow.”
Quinn smiled inwardly to himself, smirking. “And I love you.” It wasn’t until he heard Bert let out an awkward cough before he added, “Blue.”
Bert shifted over onto his back and shimmied his body upwards so he was then staring into his friend’s neck. Quinn turned his head towards the other and they smiled at each other simultaneously. They were friends and for the past ten years, they had learned to deal with it.
They had been sitting there since god knows when; their first intentions were to go to Jeph’s place, down on Smith and Holland, but they had missed their bus. They stumbled across this expanse of trees while following the directions of the hobo hotdog vendor a few blocks down.
“—so yeah,” Bert finished, a large grin on his face that made his eyes crinkle. Quinn only smiled.
“Is that all?”
Quinn always asked this question, even though he already knew the answer; no. He knew well enough that his companion was never finished, even if whatever subject he was talking about was beginning to fade.
Bert smiled again, shaking his head before continuing. “And holy shit, have you heard Sonic Youth’s new album? Fuck, it sucks, man! I mean it’s just noise and...”
Quinn rolled his eyes, a knowing grin creeping up on his face. This was his friend and for the past ten years, he had learned to deal with it. While Bert continued to chat absentmindedly about music, Quinn took off his shades and looked up into the sky. He always liked stars, every inch of his room that wasn’t covered in posters, were covered with those glow in the dark stars that you’d get from dollar marts.
Bert followed his friend’s gaze and looked up. “Whoa!” he exclaimed out of surprise before pointing a finger towards the sky. “It’s so pretty!”
His companion laughed while the other simply gazed up into the vast sea of stars, mouth wide and open in awe. “They’re yellow,” Quinn said, smirking before blinking upwards. “I’ve always liked yellow.”
There was a momentary lapse of silence before Bert spoke up. “What about blue?”
“Hm?”
“Blue,” Bert repeated, pursing his lips in thought, “yellow’s nothing without blue.”
Quinn turned to him and raised a brow in question. “How so?”
“Meh-uh,” Bert shrugged. “Whenever I imagine yellow, blue’s always with it.”
Another silence. “And oceans.”
“Oceans?”
“Yeah.” Bert decided to pick up right where he left off. “Like... you know, beaches? The sand’s yellow and the ocean’s blue.” Quinn turned to him with confused eyes and he replied with a sheepish shrug, “just a thought.”
“There are no fuckin’ beaches in Utah, dumbass.”
Bert blinked. “Oh right.”
Quinn (which Bert had now dubbed as ‘Yellow’ for the time being) slapped a hand to his forehead and laughed into it. “I love you, man.”
Bert gave a childish, tooth-filled grin. “I love you too, Yellow.”
“Yellow?”
“You can call me Blue.”
“Blue?”
“God, stop putting a fucking question mark at the end of all your sentences. You’re starting to sound like a natural blonde.”
He laughed again, noisy and loud. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m sorry, Blue?”
“God damn it, Quinn!”
The other snorted, criss-crossing his legs in front of him while he rummaged through his bag. He brought out a pack of Camels and offered one to his friend. Bert rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help to smile as he took one and stuck the end in his mouth. Quinn dug even deeper into his rucksack, trying to grasp the Zippo he had thrown in the mess that morning. Successful, they took their cigarettes, cheered each other as if they were glasses of wine and proceeded to light them both.
Through a mouth of tobacco, Quinn repeated himself. “Sorry.”
Bert took a puff of his stick, inhaling the smoke so his lungs were drowned in it, before breathing it out again in little halos. He flicked the burnt ashes off of the ends of his, bringing it back to his mouth.
“Sorry, what?”
Quinn blinked and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry... Blue.”
Bert turned his head and sent his companion a bright smile and a cheery wink. “It’s okay, Yellow.”
They paused, sucking in the smoke. It was dark, so all that represented them both were two little reddish orange dots of the lit ends of their cigarettes.
“I love you, Yellow.”
Quinn smiled inwardly to himself, smirking. “And I love you.” It wasn’t until he heard Bert let out an awkward cough before he added, “Blue.”
Bert shifted over onto his back and shimmied his body upwards so he was then staring into his friend’s neck. Quinn turned his head towards the other and they smiled at each other simultaneously. They were friends and for the past ten years, they had learned to deal with it.