I Don't Wanna Feel a Thing Anymore.

Present Day

It had been nice to get out of the house. Beau and I drove back in silence. I think he was beginning to realize that he could not fill the hole in my life created by Vic’s death. There was nothing anyone could do, and it was driving me crazy. I felt bad, but I couldn’t help it. I was scared; terrified, really. I had never felt this way in my life. I didn’t know how to go on. I was scared to write or speak of our memories together, for fear that I would somehow mar them. They were now the most precious things I had. The second Beau pulled into our driveway, a strange feeling rose in my chest. I was suddenly claustrophobic, I needed to get out. I needed to do something other than sit. I burst out of the car before it was even turned off. I couldn’t take it anymore, I was going to explode. I ran to the door, my shaky hands fumbling with the key. As soon as it opened, I stumbled up the stairs to my room. The house was silent; Beau had decided to give me some space. I wondered when Val would be coming back; probably tonight or tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the seventh day since the funeral, seven days since I had seen Vic’s face for the last time. I laid down on his side of the bed, pressing my face into his pillow and breathing in the last of his quick fading scent. A voice in my head screamed at me to stop, that I was wasting it. But I didn’t care. I reached under the pillow and felt around for the demo CD that I knew was kept under it. Vic had made it for me twelve days ago. One day before he died. He had always been self-conscious about his songs, but he had the voice of an angel, and lyrics straight from his heart. I pressed the disc to my chest and walked down the stairs, feeling slightly zombified.

Beau was standing in the kitchen, just staring at me through the doorway. I met his gaze shakily. His features were etched with a mix of worry and irritation. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.

“I’m going for a drive.” I muttered, a little uneasy from the stare down. Beau flashed to my side the second I turned and grabbed my wrist.

“Kellin…” he said, his voice trailing off. I tried to pull my arm from his grip, but he just held tighter. “Be safe. Things will get better.” He hissed the words through gritted teeth, sounding more determined than ever. I smiled weakly; slightly offended that he thought I couldn’t look after myself. He finally let go, and I could feel him staring me down as I walked to the car.

I put in the CD, but I didn’t play it immediately. No, I had to earn listening to it. I drove for about 15 minutes, trying not to think of him at all. I finally couldn’t take it anymore, and I hit play. In an instant, Vic’s beautiful voice was being blasted from the shitty car speakers. It wove a blanket of temporary safety around me, passing in and out of my being with each breath he took. I knew every word to every song he wrote, but I didn’t dare sing along, in fear that my voice would take away the beautiful purity of his. Some of his songs were about me, some about family, and some about friends. I sighed. He really could have made it big. I stopped the car in frustration, tears springing to my eyes. It was all so unfair, really. I slammed my hands against to dash repeatedly until the track got stuck in a loop. I immediately ejected it, examining the precious disc until I was sure no damage had been done. I slid it back in the case and started to cry. I was somewhere in suburbia, the endless outskirts of San Diego. I slumped back in the seat, realizing in that in two days I would have to be back at work. One week, that’s really all they give you. One week to get over losing your entire world. Or maybe they knew there was no point; that you would never really “get over it”. I looked up at the street sign to get some idea of where I was. Then it dawned on me. I was on Vic’s parent’s street. I hadn’t been here in about six months, but I had seen them at the funeral. Maybe I would visit them, because they were actually in (almost) as much pain as I was. I kept driving down the street to the small gray house where they lived. I pulled into the driveway, my heart rate speeding up as I opened the car door and approached the light wooden porch. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

“Kellin, oh hello dear!” Vic’s mother said as she opened the door. I could tell she was trying to be happy for me. I should return the favor for her, I thought as I plastered a smile across my face. “How are you? What have you been up to?” she asked, with just a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m…okay.” I answered quietly. There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Well, come in, come in! A friend of the boys is a friend of ours.” she held the door open for me. I had been here quite a few times in the beginning of Vic and I’s relationship, but not in the last few months. Vic had always acted slightly strange around him, not quite himself. I sat down on the floral couch. “Would you like some food, dear? I have anything you could imagine. Paninis, pastas, casseroles…” She rattled off a long list of foods. I remember Vic mentioning how she cooked when she was stressed. I cut her off.

“I’m fine, really, thank you though. I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone who loved him as much as I did…” I trailed off, biting my lip and fighting the tears coming to my eyes. She put her frail arms around me.

“Kellin, dear… I know, I know. It’s been hard on all of us. He was like a brother to you.” She murmered. I felt anger surge through me. A BROTHER?! Vic was not my brother. He was my soulmate, my lover, my other half. Had he never told his parents? Did they even know he was gay? I wasn’t sure whether I was mad at Vic or his mother. I pulled away from the woman’s grip.

“My… Brother? Mrs. Fuentes, I think you misunderstood.” I stood up, shaking my head. She stood up beside me and crinkled her eyebrows, confusion growing on her face.

“What exactly do you mean, dear?” She asked, sounding a little scared for the answer. I threw up my hands in exasperation.

“He was my BOYFRIEND!” I yelled. I lowered my voice. “No, no. He was more than that- he was my soul mate.” The old woman was quiet for a second, staring at me in disbelief. She didn’t bother to mask the anger in her features. She backed up, looking terrified at this point.

“You’re lucky Victor isn’t home. I- He-“ She cut off. “GET OUT.” She spit suddenly. “You are a liar, Kellin Quinn. That is sick. Our son was not gay. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.” She screamed at me. I didn’t need to be told twice. I ran out the door and got into my car, driving away much over the speed limit. Hurt and betrayal filled my body. I cried the whole way home.