The Dream and the Dreamer

Four months went by with immense leisure; it seemed as if time flew by with great ease because Jake and Amir felt absolutely fantastic about their blossoming relationship. Thoughts of doom and self-deprivation for Jake seemed to quickly disappear as their relationship took form. They were perfect together. Amir had started to change, but in a good way. He slowly started to grow up and adapted to independent adult life, with a lot of help, of course. He had even started to eat different foods regularly, but nuggets still persisted as a staple in his diet.
Jake had asked him to move in one night, after he bribed Amir into eating a salad. They were sitting at his dining room table when Jake plucked up the nerve, asking as his lips trembled. The other man just stared at him, for a rather long time, before bursting into laughter.
“I’ve already moved it!” he noted, which was partially true. He had been a member of that apartment since Jake moved in, and all other homes before then since they met. The question was like an engagement to Jake, however. It solidified his feelings towards the future, and all the things he was once worried about. He had reached a point, finally, where he was comfortable and unafraid to continue. It was blissful perfection, and they both savored it zealously. So, time sped by with that ease in that way. It also wasn’t just the two of them that had changed and grew into a comfortable situation. The office savored and embraced the pairs change in personality. So it came as an awful shock when Amir suddenly slipped into old ways and had a violent outburst in the middle of the office. Jake dragged him into one of the conference rooms and held him tight, as if he was trying to squeeze out the angry flurry of feelings. They stayed there for an hour, no one bothering them, though it was obvious they were frightened. They had a privileged few weeks with that new Amir. Jake tried to ignore them, and ignore his own old fears that started to formulate in his mind. As Amir struggled against him, spitting out terrible free style raps and cursing, Jake tried so desperately to hold onto his new life and new confidence. He remembered that old line he would tell himself over and over again, “This will be okay and I can change things”. In a flash, followed by stinging guilt, he doubted this as Amir continued to scream at him.
They never spoke about it after that, though Jake thought about it constantly. The outburst weighed heavily on his mind and influenced dreams. He would awake from those nightmares, of Amir falling back into old habits, shaking and sweating. But Amir would be sound asleep right next to him, still and calm. Nothing had happened after that one time, and Jake would spend these moments in the darkness trying to come up with a reason as to why he relapsed. Every night he fell back asleep without a single plausible answer and a twinge of fear that it would happen again. Every night he would dream of losing Amir, never seeing him again, but he managed to convince himself otherwise with every time he awoke, shaking and feeling for the man next to him in a panic.
Amir was sitting cross legged on the floor in the living room, blank cards surrounding him. He was writing on them with a strange looking pen, a quizzical look on his face as he scribbled away. A jug of vinegar sat next to him, as well. Jake walked in and immediately groaned, running his hands over his face in a failed attempt to put his rising anger at bay.
“What are you doing, man?” he asked, hands on his hips. Amir continued to scribble away silently, so Jake repeated the question a few times before he finally answered. He slammed his pen down and glared up at him, scowling.
“I’m obviously making business cards,” he retorted, gesturing to the mess in front of him.
“I get that, but you also have a bottle of vinegar and nothing is showing up on the cards!” Jake shot right back, clearly agitated. Amir’s scowl deepened and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“They’re writing with invisible ink,” he responded matter-of-factly, “The vinegar helps you see the ink!” Jake just stared at him, completely bewildered and slightly taken aback. They stayed there for a while as the blonde collected himself. Finally, sighing deeply in defeat, “Can I see one?” he asked, stepping closer with a sense of caution. Amir stared at him, trying to read him before deciding the request was legitimate and handed him a card and the vinegar. Jake forced a smile small and poured some of the vinegar onto his card. He looked at the sitting man for assistance.
“You have to shake it, duh!” he interjected, rolling his eyes. Jake sighed again, pursing his lips to keep back his retort. He sat on the sofa, shaking the card in a rather annoyed way. Amir beamed at him, which eased Jake’s agitation just a tad. After several minutes, words started to form. He was pleasantly surprised and showed Amir the results, laughing.
“It says to tweet at you,” he started, rather confused. Amir didn’t notice and continued looking at him, blatantly proud. Jake rubbed at his forehead, “You forgot your handle,” he muttered, trying to put it gently. Still, the other man didn’t take notice. Jake smiled and pulled out his phone, quickly writing a tweet. Amir went back to his writing.
“Hey, maybe you should check your account, see if someone responded to you yet,” Jake suggested nonchalantly. Amir scurried up and leapt at the computer. He read the message out loud,
“Great business card. Want lunch later. XO” Amir turned around slowly, Jake beaming. His face fell quickly at the expression Amir wore. He glared over his glasses, a sinister look that was oddly familiar, but it had been so long since Jake had seen it. It was the same look that accompanied violence and screaming. Jake stood up in a hurry, putting his hands up defensively. It was a sad instinct brought on by a lot of experience. Amir stayed absolutely still, though he started to tremble.
“Don’t patronize me,” he spat finally, after several moments of tense silence. Jake gulped heavily, taking a step back.
“I was just trying to be cute, ‘Mir,” he mumbled, voice coming out shaky. Amir shook his head wildly and glared at the ground.
“You always treat me like a child,” he whispered as he slowly looked up at Jake. That sinister look was gone, replaced by a rather childish, hurt and confused glower. The other man stepped forward with caution, hands still in front of him.
“Babe,” he muttered, trying to coax Amir out of it. The older man shook his head again, bringing his hands to his face. He started laughing.
“I’m fine,” he stammered through he laughter. Jake rushed forward and hugged him, the only thing he knew to do. He rocked Amir back and forth as the man laughed, shaking all over.
They went to bed without speaking about the situation, the little outburst that was so familiar and frightening because of that intense familiarity. To Jake, it was like the last few months have not occurred, as if his influence did not stick. He quickly got over the situation, but not the fear of the past. He knew Amir, more than anyone, and he knew of the problems that came with the man. He cursed himself for being so naïve, but was quickly wrought with guilt for such a thought. He watched Amir fall asleep, holding him close, kissing his head softly. Feeling Amir’s chest rise and fall slowly under the palm of his hand eased him into sleep, coaxing those bad feelings and ugly regrets away. Things were going to be okay, he had finally changed everything.
When Jake woke up, he felt around behind him for Amir, to take his hand in his own. The bed was empty, and when he turned over, he completely realized that. Panic struck him for a moment as he sat up quickly and threw off the covers. He quickly realized, however, that the shower was running. He got back into bed, curling up in the blankets.
He woke up two hours later, not realizing he had fallen back asleep. He stayed there for a moment, smiling, but quickly realized that the shower was still running. He jumped out of bed and ran over to the bathroom, swinging open the door. Steam billowed out past him. Panic seized him, drowning him in an icy cold as he slowly stepped forward, bare feet slapping against the tile. He reached for the curtain, hands quivering violently. His heart raced in his chest, which burned with coldness. He ripped the curtain aside. The shower was empty. He turned off the water, completely puzzled, still shaking and out of breath from his previous terror. Amir was probably eating or something and forgot about the shower, he thought to himself as he left the bathroom. He still walked with hesitation, heart still racing.
Every room in their apartment was void of Amir. The hallways were void of Amir. The neighbors has not seen or heard him. Sarah, Rosie, Patrick, Dan, Jeff and Streeter had all not seen Amir since that Friday, when the pair left work. Leron hadn’t seen Amir in a week, and agreed to contact Doobs. There was hope in that, but it quickly dissipated when Leron called back. The closest McDonald’s would question their employees, but everyone knew Amir and no one had seen him since that Thursday. The office was empty and echoing with Jake’s footsteps, his calls ghostly in the empty office. Security checked their tapes, but the last footage they had was on Friday as Amir and Jake left the office together. His throat swelled up at he watched himself gingerly take the older man’s hand as they left the lobby. He had even called Amir’s parents, out of a last-ditch effort of painful desperation. He already knew the answer, thought. Amir had disappeared without a trace, and even though Jake had twenty-four hours to wait before he was officially missing, he knew that the man was gone, leaving a gaping hole in Jake’s life.