Untitled.

A Story by Suzuki Writes

Could not think of a title for this.

You gave me a song. Press play.
And every time I listen to that song, there’s this scenario sprouting out from within my mind. It’s in the arrival corridor of the Heathrow Airport. The immaculate windows seem more like portraits of the airplanes rather than the view to the actual planes beyond it.
The airport is empty. It’s only you and me there.You’re staring out the window, and I’m standing several feet away.
“You don’t have to be alone…” your voice sings out.
It interrupts my modest reverie. I force the static electricity flowing through my synapses to recreate the scenario so I can prolong your presence. Your non-existent presence. I’m desperate. The authenticity of your being matters not, as long as I believe it exists.
My ears shift focus and your vocals seem to wash over me, like ocean waves. How comforting. Soothing. Abruptly, a shiver shoots down my spine. Goosebumps form, and the hairs on the back of my neck are erect. Losing myself in the rhythm of your melody, I rediscover us. The non-existent us.
There you are, staring intently ahead. Standing, completely still. Your eyes are glued to the vision before you. But not at me. No. I’m not your vision. Over my shoulder. What is it that you see? What’s there that’s distracting your gaze from me?
I need not an answer for I already know.
Fame.
Money.
Power.

I’m desperate to catch a glimpse of your gaze; even the smallest acknowledgement, I would die for, but I’ve already lost you.
”We live in two different worlds…” there goes your voice again.
But this time, instead of erasing this world that’s sparked up through my imagination, it seems to affect my eyes instead. Vsshhhooooommmm.
The distance between us escalates. The motion blurs my surroundings. From the corners of my eyes, everything seems stretched out. I open my mouth, but that has only allowed a little grey mist to escape from my throat. There floats away my ability to speak. Without thinking, I reach to grasp my vocal abilities before it escapes. But reach out, I cannot.Paralysis. My only option are my eyes. The windows to my soul. The telescope to my heart.
Oh but your eyes… your beautiful brown eyes are locked on to the vision behind me. To what is past me. The little hairs above my eye sockets crease and water begins to fill up the socket itself. The desperation from attempting to concentrate my focus on you strains my eyes. I’m begging you. I’m crying out to you. In my silence.
Don’t let me slip away. Stop this distance.
Something seems to be pulling us apart, as though fate accidentally pressed the rewind button. But accident, it was not.
We are being torn apart. And I am standing, static… as are you.
The air has become stiff, and nothing moves. Everything static and still… everything but your lips - they seem to mumble. I squint. What are you saying? There’s an odd rhythm on your lips. You’re singing. My brain sprints through every line of your song, in a pathetic pursuit to catch up with you. To get on the same page as you. To rediscover you.
My eyes attempt to read the movement on your lips.
”Who are we kidding?...”
My eyes attempted to read the movement on you lips, until it recognized the lyrics as being unrecognizable.
You changed the words.