Quiet Desperation

Ryan's POV

I went to visit him last night. Him. That boy, Brendon is his name. I found out a little about him. You'd be surprised what you learn when you can walk the streets of a city without being seen.

He worked at a casino as a bartender. I guess I can see that in him, he seems to be quite the social person.

He lived with two other guys. Spencer and Jon. They seem good enough people, but I didn't really take the time to learn about them; I was too busy with Brendon. For a while, I wondered if they could see me as well, but that was proved wrong when Spencer opened their apartment door through my body, and he and Jon walked through me.

Each time I visited (it happened a few times, I couldn't help my curiosity), Brendon seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into this slight insanity thing he had going on. He would stay up late, pulling his hair out of his head.

Every 15 minutes or so, he would look around himself furiously, his eyes often resting on the chair where I sat watching him before continuing to weave desperately through the room. He saw me there, but I could tell he thought it was just his imagination.

Because of the lack of sleep, his eyes were red, and there were bags under his eyes. Every once and a while, if I entered the room, he would suck in his breath and cease moving. I felt responsible for his weird actions, but I couldn't help myself. He was so important to me, even if I'd only talked to him once.

While he was awake and conscious of me

Spencer and Jon seemed worried about him, but I was just anxious. I was waiting for him to show up back at the playground, or on the sidewalk where he tripped over me, looking for answers. I wasn't done messing with him, and I could only hope he wasn't done thinking of me.

And then it happened.

He came. I knew he would, I just didn't know when. In the middle of the night, he ran all the way to the old playground, sweatshirt wrapped tightly around his slim body.

I followed him there, grinning like the madman I knew I was. He looked behind himself, but not once did I let him see me.

"Hello? Hello?" He sounded so desperate. He wanted to know that he wasn't going crazy.

"Hello, Brendon." He jumped when I let my voice trickle down his spine. His wild eyes looked at me, then all around us at the trees and swing set, before settling back on me. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes and clenching them shut.

I put my hand out to him, meaning to touch his shoulder, but then retracted it. He was here, I could touch him, but somehow it felt wrong. Like I didn't want to have that experience when he wasn't willing.

"You." He didn't look at me when he spoke. "You... just..." he looked up then. "Do you exist?" his face told me everything I could ever want to know about him. He was desperate for me to be real, he needed to be normal, but at the same time he was looking for excitement.

He wanted to be the only one to see me, he wanted to have that special ability that he didn't have to share with anyone else.

"Yeah, if that's what you want to believe." I said, smiling. "I suppose I am real in a way." if it was possible, he looked relieved and even more puzzled at the same time.

"It is what I want to believe... it is." he looked down to his bright red converse, then back up at me. His eyes shone with determination, no longer clouded with the unsure feeling of confusion. Although, he looked like he was about to throw up.

"Hey, calm down, kid." maybe he was only about a year or two younger than me, but technically the age difference was much more than that. He nodded in response, sitting down on one of the swings and holding his arms over his stomach.

"Why?" he didn't even look me in the eyes as he spoke. He looked down at the ground, pushing the swing gently back and letting it go forward again.

The question was so vague, just a single word that could've meant anything. But somehow I knew just what he was asking.

"I don't know. I really don't know." He nodded, understanding that I was being truthful. But I could see his eyebrows furrow, the frustration and dissatisfaction of not having all the answers.

"Trust me, Brendon. I know nothing more than you." he nodded again, slowly and thoughtfully. Although, that was a complete and utter lie. I knew a lot more than him, it comes with observing the world happen for years upon years, never once being able to change anything.

"Wait... did you call me Brendon?" I looked at him confusedly. That was his name, right? "How do you know my name's Brendon?"

"I have my ways, Brendon. I have my ways." I hoped he'd stick around long enough to learn about me. "I'm Ryan."

"Ryan..." It almost seemed as if he were testing my name out on his tongue, and the small smile that crept onto his face told me he liked it. "Well, Ryan. It's nice to meet you." he stuck out his hand for me to shake.

That feeling of... feeling sent shocks through my whole body, rendering me unable to pull away. The sensation kept me holding onto his warm, human hand, and staring into those eyes that held actual emotion.

"Nice to meet you too."