Smallfandom Big bang, Say something, Part 3
Title: Say something
Summary: Roman Wilde, ice skater, has died, on the ice he loved so much.This is the after.
Bargaining
~
“But actually it doesn’t matter how much or how little time there is I want to be with you.”
~
The single most important thing about time that he knows: nobody can control it.
Regardless of what happens, or what they wish for, it will just keep ticking away. Roman is dead. He still can’t quite believe that happened - something else he cannot change. This is the world they will live in from now on. Deniz might spend the rest of his life wishing that things would be different, but it is what it is.
He knows there are a million things that need to be done, and he doesn’t want to think about any of them. (He had never been aware of how much needs to be done when someone dies.) He doesn’t want to deal with this, but someone has to, and it’s not like he can make Florian do everything on his own. He’s already let him deal with far too much on his own. There are still people that haven’t been told, papers that need to be filled, and God knows what else. And the DVD that Roman send him, the one that isn’t actually his, is constantly on his mind. He doesn’t know what to do with it - actually he does know what to do with it, he just doesn’t want to deal with it right now. He doesn’t want to go and see Marc to give him Roman’s last goodbye. Why did Roman send the DVD to him anyway? Why not skip the middleman and send it to Marc directly? Perhaps, Roman had simply wanted to make sure that someone told Marc what happened in person. If he was worried about that, he should not have been because despite the fact that Deniz doesn’t like the other man, he still wouldn’t have allowed him to find out from the news. Because he knows, he knows that if their situations were reversed, he would have wanted Marc to call him.
So many things that need to be done, so many things to think about. He doesn’t want to think about all that, but if he doesn’t, he has to focus on the fact that Roman is dead. And he can’t do that. He can’t think about Roman lying motionless on the ice - not that he could forget it if he wanted to, but focusing on something else might make him feel a little better.
It doesn’t, but maybe if he tries it for long enough, it might help someday.
~
‘Hi Katja, and Ben, I suppose, you must be wondering what this is about. Wel,l if you’re seeing this it means that I can no longer talk to you in person.’
~Nobody bothers to call them - not that Katja blames any of them, certainly not Deniz. She wouldn’t have remembered to call anyone if it had happened to her, so she understands. Still, it hurts that neither of her sisters bothered to call her with the news. Instead, after a few hours, it was Ben’s sister Vanessa who called. That actually makes the fact that her sisters didn’t call her worse; they should have remembered that Roman was her friend too. She didn’t believe Ben when he first spoke; he had to repeat the sentence - Roman is dead - three times before it finally sank in. She would never see him again, they would never joke or have a serious conversation again. They would never truly get past their arguments - oh, they’ve been on their way but they still had some ways to go. Now he would never know the things she should have told him - like the fact that he was the best trainer she could have ever wished for, and an even better friend. There is so much, so much that they still had to do, but it’s all disappeared in the blink of an eye, and she can’t quite believe it.
He would have won the ice skating competition, she knows that; he would have become the male ambassador. Because he was just that brilliant. Together, they would have travelled, and skated, and they would have had the time of their lives. And now, now he’s dead and someone else will be in his place, and that feels so incredibly wrong. Oh, she doesn’t doubt that whoever wins will deserve it, but it should have been Roman, it should have been. Ben tries to speak, but no words come out. It’s not like it matters: what is there to say? She knows she should call Annette and Lena, and Deniz, but she can’t quite make herself move. She should be with them - even if her sisters forgot for a moment that she existed - but that won’t happen until later. Not until after there’s a knock on the door, not until after she’s holding Roman’s last goodbye in her hands.
She doesn’t want to watch the DVD, she doesn’t want to say goodbye, not yet (not ever). But she has to - they have to - because whatever he said, it was quite clearly very important to Roman.
Play.
There he is, she thinks, alive and happy and so Roman.
It’s a short video, filled with words about friendship and ice skating. He talks about what could - should - have been and how sorry he is that he’s going to miss it all. “You’re the best ice skater I’ve ever trained, Katja, and you’re going to do amazing things.” Oh, Roman, she thinks, I was always amazing because you were the best trainer in the world. “Don’t feel guilty about being the ambassador. Don’t feel guilty about all the fun you’re going to have. Just go and be amazing and have fun for me.”
“I wish you guys all the best in the world. And I know you’re going to have a long and happy life.”
Stop.
The screen freezes on Roman’s smiling face.
~
“I love you guys.”
“Goodbye.”
~
~
“Honestly, in the beginning, did you think we would ever become friends? But somehow a really wonderful friendship was born. Which might be due to the fact that we love the same woman. I know Annette will be horribly mad right now, and that she’s locked herself in her room. And I’m sorry because I know you’re to one to deal with that. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I wanted to spend my last weeks as if everything was fine. Even though it really wasn’t. We both know Annette. She’ll eventually get over it, and she’ll come out of her room, and she’ll realize she’s not actually mad at Deniz but at me, which, for reasons of propriety is a total no-go of course. She’ll need you then, Ingo, and I know you’ll be able to explain it to her and I know you’ll be there for her.
~His hands are shaking.
He’s only just noticed.
They’ve probably been shaking all along, but for some reason his brain hadn’t registered it. Maybe not though, maybe the shaking only stared when those DVD’s arrived. It doesn’t matter; they’re shaking, a fact he’s only noticed because he pressed play. He’s not ready to watch it, he’s not ready to say goodbye to his Hasse, he’s not ready for any of it. How can this be the end? How can so many years of friendship end with a simple video? How can Roman’s last goodbye be a one way conversation, something he can never, ever respond to? He knows he needs to see it because it’s important. But when the video ends that will be it, there will nothing left of Roman. How could he do this to them? How could he not allow them a final hug, a goodbye, some meaningful speech Ingo hasn’t thought of yet? Oh, he understands why Roman didn’t tell them - at least theoretically he does - but that doesn’t make it fair. Still though, it was Roman’s life and he had the right to make whatever choice he wanted, even if Ingo wants to scream that it was the wrong one.
So play.
And there he is, his Hasse. He’s so real that Ingo almost expects him to leap of the screen. There’s a part of him, a small one, that knows that this would be far easier to watch if Roman was acting completely out of character. Or that could have been worse, he doesn’t know. Roman is right there, so close and yet so far away, but Ingo can never tell him anything again. But Hasse knew him and that’s what matters.
He wants the video to play forever, to never come to it’s inevitable end. He wants to watch beyond Roman’s final words, to ignore entirely what comes after.
But of course it ends.
( “Honestly,” that’s how Roman begins his video, “did you think we would ever become friends?
“No, Hasse,” Ingo whispers. “I did not think we would become such great friends. But it is the best thing that ever happened to me. I hope you know that. I really hope that you do.”)
Stop.
~
“Don’t forget me.”
“I love you both incredibly much.”
“And I’ll miss you terribly. “
“Take care of yourselves.”
~
~
‘Ok, Flo I’ll start with you because I know that I won’t have to explain why I didn’t announce my illness to the world. Still there’s a thing or two I’d like to say to you.’
~
He had not expected that Roman would still find some way to say goodbye.
Not with the DVD and certainly not with the letter he finds much later. He honestly figured that Roman had already said all he wanted to say, that since he knew the end was coming, he’d made it his mission to do so. That he was, simply, done. But apparently not, apparently there are still some things that his brother wanted to tell him, or perhaps tell him again. Or it might simply be that Roman made this DVD to make him feel a little bit better. (He admits, later, that that is probably why Roman wrote those letters to him and their parents.)
He doesn’t want to watch it, but he knows that not watching it will be far, far worse. Besides, it doesn’t matter how much time passes: he’ll never be ready for, so he might as well watch it right now. At least he’s not alone, at least Lena is here. And yet, and yet, a part of him wants her to go, wants to hear Roman’s last words on his own. But he can’t tell her to leave either - it doesn’t make sense, but then not much does anymore so who cares?
‘First of all, I’m sorry that we weren’t in contact for so long. I’m so very glad you left Gerenhausen for big town Essen and came to stay with us.’
He had never told Roman, but him coming to Essen to live with his brother hadn’t been a spur of the moment decision. He’d been thinking about it for quite a while, though he can’t point to a specific moment in which he decided that this is something that he needed to do. He didn’t tell him because he found it embarrassing. And because he was afraid to find out that while he spend his time planning this, Roman hadn’t thought about him once. He should have told him, he knows this; Roman would have liked to know.
‘In the beginning, you were a pain in the ass, and you know you’re a loudmouth. And let’s face it you didn’t start particularly gay-friendly. Still, we kind of raised you. And I’m really happy I got to see you slowly grow up.’
He’s glad Roman raised him, and he’s glad for all the knowledge that he imparted on him. He wishes he’d told him those things, and so many other things. So much he still has to say, so much he should have said. All of it is now nothing but dust in the wind.
‘I’m so proud of you. I wish you all the best with Lena. If you run into trouble, Deniz will be there for you, and Marian too. Do me a favour. Don’t let everyone mope alone at home. Organize a party at the lake.’
Organizing a party for his dead brother seems weird and yet, at the same time, completely right. He thinks that perhaps the ice rink would be better; it was Roman’s second home, after all. But he can’t imagine walking into the place where his brother died and celebrating his life just a few feet from where his body lay. He can’t imagine ever walking into that place again - considering he’s an ice hockey player, this might, at some point, give him trouble, but he doesn’t care.
He will do this, though, for Roman. He will round everyone up, and they will go to the lake and light candles. He just wishes Deniz were here as well.
~
“Flo, I love you.”
“I wish that all your dreams will come true.”
“Take care of yourself.”
~
~
Marian is the one who calls him.
If he’s being completely honest, Oliver is kind of surprised that Marian remembered to do that. Oh, they are still friends, but things were, inevitably, different. But considering what had just happened, Roman dying, he would never have blamed Marian if he had forgotten all about him. After all, he thinks later, when somebody you care about dies, that person that moved away to Africa years ago is probably the last person you think about. He wouldn’t have, at least, but Marian had. Roman hadn’t forgotten about him either, hadn’t forgotten they had once been close friends and had sent him his final goodbye. Oliver is grateful - he is, he truly, truly is - but he also wishes that the DVD didn’t exist. It’s so weird and surreal.
Perhaps if he’d stayed, everything would now be different. The guilt is almost overwhelming. Oh, that doesn’t make sense, he knows that. He’s completely aware of the fact that staying in Essen would not have saved Roman. He could not have changed what happened. He’s sure that Roman saw every doctor he could, so what could he possibly have done? But Roman is his friend, and he can’t help but think that if he’d just stayed, that Roman might still be alive.
He still looks the way that Oliver remembers him. Somehow he’d been expecting him to look different, he was dead after all. But not, he thinks, not when this video was made, so it’s logical that he looks the way he did before. All he does is talk about friendship and all the things that Oliver did for him over the years -some that form his point of view weren’t that important but that had apparently mattered a lot to Roman. And then, just to prove to him that Roman knew him and would be able to tell what he is feeling, the other man tells him it’s not his fault.
“Never feel guilty about leaving Oliver, there was nothing you could have done.”
His words help, they do, but they can never make the guilt fade away completely.
Nothing will ever be able to do that.
~
When the phone first rings in the morning, Diana ignores it.
It’s not because she has no desire to talk to people - there are so many of her friends that she hasn’t talked to in weeks - but because she simply doesn’t have time. She’s already running late, and she knows herself: if it is one of her friends calling, she’ll never get to work. So she lets the phone ring and promises herself that when she gets home, she’ll call whoever it was back immediately. She’s out of the apartment before the answering machine picks up. Later, much later, when she finally hears Ingo’s message, she wishes she had waited to hear it. Because his voice - so broken, so lost, in so much pain - would have told her that it didn’t matter how late to work she would be. She had to call him back immediately.
She should have answered, she knows that.
But how could she have known what he was calling about? How could she have imagined it? How could anyone?
When she gets to work, she knows something bad has happened. She knows by the looks on their faces and the way they look at her. It had been almost the same when Jennifer died, but Diana had never cared about the other women, so she’d been able to ignore them then. But this? This is so much worse than that moment. Because this is Roman ,and he is dead She’s not a stranger to sudden death - she remembers how her fiancé died in the middle of her wedding - but that doesn’t make it any easier. In the distance, she can hear her boss telling her that she can go home for the day, and somehow she does.
(She’ll never know how.)
She can’t remember when she talked to Roman last.
She can’t remember what they talked about.
She never will.
~
When you move away, friendships inevitably change.
More so when you move to another country, to the other side of the world. Some friendships just fade away, like they never existed at all. The memories were still there, and the feelings had been real, but not strong enough to survive the distance. (And it’s not easy, Nina knows that now, it’s not. But that doesn’t make it hurt less.) Others manage to hold on longer - sometimes for years - but eventually those too cease to exist. Some change, morph into something else, but at least those still exist. (It’s logical that it all changes; the circumstances of their lives are different after all.)
Her friendship with Vanessa had survived mostly intact - but then they’d been friends for so long it would have been stranger if it hadn’t. And besides, Vanessa had lived in Boston for a while, closer to her than Essen was. And her friendship with Roman had also survived the move. They had this deal that they would try to call each other at least once a month. (They tried to aim for once a week, but there were weeks that this was completely undoable.) Still, they definitely talked once a month - and in-between, they would send dozens of e-mails - and it was more than most of Nina’s other friendships in Essen. They’d even gone out of their way to pick a day and a time that would be best for both of them. They never wavered from that time, they never changed the day. It was always the same.
Except for the last time.
He’d called her out of the blue, in the middle of the day on Tuesday. She didn’t think that much about it though. Perhaps he just had a moment of peace and thought of her. She should have realized something was wrong - because Roman was always so precise about the time and the day, and he sounded so different. But they had a completely normal conversation, just like every other one before it. (She wishes she could say it was exceptionally meaningful, but it wasn’t.) There was this one brief moment though, where they’d talked about friendship and loss and the passage of time. He mentioned, at the end, that he wished he’d been able to visit her at some point. The conversation had been slightly weird, but she was busy, so she’d told herself she would think about it later. And then Vanessa called to tell her that Roman had died. And in that moment she finally understood what that final conversation was actually about.
She should have talked to him more, she should have visited more. Screw her schedule and her job and everything else in her life. What do any of those things matter now?
Her first thought, when the DVD arrives, is that it looks so small and unimportant. And yet it’s the most important thing in the world. She can’t believe that this is how Roman will say his final goodbye. But there is a small voice in the back of her mind, telling her: isn’t this how you did it? Sure, you didn’t die, you just moved away, but you too could not bring yourself to say goodbye in person. Instead, you send them a DVD. That’s how you said goodbye. So why shouldn’t Roman do it this way? Why shouldn’t he be allowed to do it the way he wanted to? (And perhaps that’s where he got the idea from. Perhaps he remembers how unable she’d been to say goodbye and decided that a DVD was better.)
He hasn’t changed at all, she thinks. Death has changed him - irreversibly - but when this DVD was made, he was still alive and as such still the same. But she wonders, briefly, if she shouldn’t be able to tell somehow that Roman was dying, if it shouldn’t be obvious that the end was just around the corner.
“Hey Nina, I’m sure you have a lot of questions right now. But I’m sorry to say I don’t have any answers .I am glad we were friends, I truly, truly am. You are one of the best friends I’ve ever had. And living together, those few months, were the best time ever. You were the best roommate I could have ever had. You are a brilliant person, a kind person and you have a wonderful future ahead of you. Never, ever, ever let anyone convince you of the opposite.”
“I love you, Nina and I wish you all the best in the world.”
“And thank you. Thank you for everything you ever did. Thank you for listing to all my stupid and random problems. Thank you for all the advice. Thank you for just being you.”
“No, Roman,” Nina whispers. “Thank you.”
“Goodbye.”
~
When he gets back to work the DVD is already there.
It would appear that before he died, Mr. Wilde spend some time taping his final goodbyes. (And that’s the proof, isn’t it, the proof that the younger man knew this was coming.) He’d taken the time to make a general one for the people of the Steinkamp centre. Axel suspects that at some point, the DVD will make its way to him, so he simply goes to his desk, only to stop short at the discovery that the DVD is already there, except, he realizes, it isn’t the general goodbye.
His name on the disc clearly signifies that this one, this one is meant just for him. Which means that somewhere in his final days, Mr. Wilde decided that he deserved his very own goodbye. He’s not sure how he feels about that. He should look at it - he will, he knows that, because he can’t not - but not yet, he needs just a little more time. So instead, he does other things. He fills an hour of his life with random things, such as ordering flowers and trying to read his e-mails and just randomness. But the DVD is always there and when he realizes that he hasn’t actually read any of his e-mails - he’s just been staring at the screen - he decides he needs to watch it. What else is he going to do? But he’s not going to watch it here. Not where everyone can see him. Not that anyone is paying attention to him. Not that anyone will care about how he reacts. Still, he needs to be alone.
It’s another hour before he finds himself sitting on his couch staring at the TV. All he has to do is press play. That is all. But it feels like he has to move a mountain. It feels impossible. But he does it anyway.
He has to.
“Hey Ax… I mean Mr. Scw… you know what? This is my video. It’s my final goodbye to you, so I’m going to call you whatever I want to call you. There’s nothing you can say about it anyway. So let’s start again. Hey Axel.”
That was the thing, wasn’t it? He always insisted on calling him Mr. Wilde and on being called Mr. Schwartz. Like that was actually important. Like calling him by his first name, and being called by his first name, was the worst thing in the world. He can’t even remember why it was so important to him, he just remembers that it was. Not anymore though.
“So I guess there is a part of you that is wondering why I have singled you out to say goodbye too. Honestly, when I started these I hadn’t decided whether or not I was going to. But while I was making them, I realized that it was something that I needed to do, not that I can explain to you why. So here we are. The thing, is I’m not sure whether we are actually friends, but we’re not not friends either. So I want you to know that you were important to me. And I really do like you. I kind of admire your stubbornness and strength, even if they could be very annoying at times. You were a good friend - when you tried. I’m really glad I got to meet you, and I wouldn’t really change a minute about our past. Including that time we kissed in the elevator. You know, the kiss that freaked you out so much? Still, I wouldn’t change it. I’m glad it all happened.”
“Do me a favour? Please be kind to Deniz and Florian.”
“Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Axel.”
“Goodbye Mr…” Axel’s voice breaks. He sighs and shakes his head. Roman can’t hear him anymore, but still he should call him by his name. It’s important.
“Goodbye Roman.”
~
Vanessa spends the entire day in her house.
She calls Deniz almost every five minutes, but he never picks up. She knows that if he asked her to come, she would leave the house, but since he never answers, she never has to. She can’t go outside. She can’t face the world, not right now. She can’t make herself move from the position she finds herself in. All she can do is sit here and call Deniz. She doesn’t leave the house until Ingo calls her hours later to go to the lake, and she only goes because she suspects that she’d regret it if she didn’t go. But the rest of the day? The rest of the day, she spends seated on the couch and calls Deniz every five minutes.
Maximilian is the one who brings her the DVD. Apparently, Roman send it to the centre - which makes sense, she thinks because that’s where she usually is. But how could Roman think that the day he died could ever be usual? Maximilian offers to stay with her, a big brother for once, but she has to do this on her own. It has to be just between her and Roman. (Even if Roman isn’t actually there.)
She hits pause three times before she can actually watch it.
“Hey, Vanessa, so here we are. Looking back did you ever think we’d end up here? I suppose not. I mean, who would? In fact, for a while there it seemed like we would never be friends again. It’s so strange to think of that time. You should forget that ever happened, you know. It wasn’t that important. You are a great friend, Vanessa. And even if we didn’t always agree, I am truly glad I go to know you. Would you do something for me? You’re Deniz’s best friend and he’s going to need you. Please, please take care of him.”
“I’m going to miss you. I wish you all the best in the world.”
“Goodbye.”
“I love you.”
By the time Roman’s voice fades away she’s honest to God sobbing. She wishes she could actually talk to him, say all the things she wants to say and promise that yes, of course she’ll be there for Deniz. But the time for that has passed now hasn’t it? All she can do is be there for Deniz.
“Goodbye Roman. Say hi to Jen for me.”
~
Marian takes a deep breath before he presses play.
Like that’s going to actually help. He doesn’t even allow himself to think about it. He just inserts the DVD and presses play. He has to know what Roman wanted to tell him before he died. Roman is smiling; it’s a completely random thing to notice, but Marian does: Roman is smiling as he says goodbye.
“These last few days, your son has done everything to make me feel good. You should have seen him. He stole gas for me! Nearly pissed his pants doing it, too. You should be incredibly proud of Deniz. You did a really good job with him.”
If he’s honest he knows he can’t take all the credit for how all of that. Because he certainly made a lot of mistakes over the years - the way he dealt with Deniz coming out comes to mind. He thinks, briefly, that Roman taught his son just as many, if not more things, than he was ever able to.
“He kept his promise and you’ll have to do me a favour: please make sure the others don’t hold it against him too much. Although we had our difficulties in the beginning, you were always there for me. You were more to me than my boyfriend’s father. Sometimes you were like a father to me too. I never told you that but now you know.”
He had not known that. Roman hadn’t told him - he probably didn’t think it was important. He’s glad the other man thought of him that way though. He hopes the younger man knows that he considered him a part of his family. He wishes now that he had actually taken the time to tell Roman that and so much more, but there’s nothing to be done about it anymore.
“ Please do me a another favour. Can you look after Florian a bit? He needs a grown up role model in his life. Don’t forget me.“
Like anyone could ever forget Roman Wilde.
~
The entire world changes at exactly nine in the morning.
Actually, it doesn’t, he knows that, he just finds out it has changed at nine in the morning. In reality, it all changes the night before, at whatever time it is that
Roman died. But Marc had of course been unaware of that fact at the time. For him the world had still been the same, nothing had changed. (A part of him wonders if he somehow should have been able to tell. But then, he’s never believed in those kind of things.) No for him, the world changes at nine in the morning. He assumed, when he’d answered, that it was someone from work but it wasn’t. It was Deniz. And he knew, the second he heard his voice, that something bad had happened. Because why else would Deniz be calling him? Everything that ever needed to be said between them - none of them good things, admittedly - had been said years ago. All they’d ever had in common was loving Roman, and he’d lost him years ago. There is no reason for Deniz to call him, other than to tell him the world has ended. And it has in a way because Roman is dead.
Roman, his first love, the love of his life, is dead. Dead and gone, no longer a part of this world. He hasn’t been a part of his life for so long - not since he chose Deniz - but Marc had always liked thinking of him living happily in Essen. And now that thought is gone. Because Roman is nowhere. For the life of him, he can’t remember what it is that he said to Deniz in that moment but then he’s not sure the other man is aware of anything, so that doesn’t matter. He thinks, suddenly, that that which had once stood between them - their love for Roman - now somehow bound them. As the two persons who loved Roman and who lost him. As the only two persons who could understand what the other one was feeling. And isn’t that strange, he thinks, isn’t it strange that this is how it all turned out?
He’d talked to Roman a few days ago. They hadn’t talked in months before that, but suddenly, one random day, he’d called. It wasn’t even about something important, but he’d left the conversation with the thought they that might be able to be friends again. At the time, he’d sworn that he’d been able to hear Deniz in the background, but he’d dismissed that thought because it was so strange. Well, it’s not strange anymore, all of it now makes sense. Because Roman is dead. He can repeat that sentence a thousand, a million times and it still won’t sound real. He always knew they would probably never see each other again and that they would definitely never be an item again, but Roman was alive, and that is what mattered.
He just lived his life, he realizes, and Roman had been dying.
When the phone call eventually ends, he figures that’s the last time he’ll ever talk to the other man. But he’s mistaken. Because the next morning Deniz is at his door, looking broken and lost - just like he is - and just hands him an envelope. There are so many things that they can say to each other, so many things that might be helpful, but the words die in his mouth.
He can’t believe that the DVD he now holds in his hands is all that is left of the man he loves. That when he presses play, he’ll hear him talk for the last time.
“Hey Marc.”
He hasn’t changed a bit. It’s just the same face, the same beautiful eyes, the same everything. As Marc looks closely, he can tell Roman is ill - he’s just a little too pale, too shaky - but that might be because he knows.
“I know we haven’t talked, really talked, in a long time. I miss our talks. I’m not trying to make you feel bad, not at all. I just feel that you should know that you were my first love. My first true love. And a part of me has always and will always love you. I wouldn’t change anything about our journey, not even the bad things not really, because they’re us, you know? I’m glad you came back a few years ago, I’m glad all of it happened, despite all the consequences. It was something we needed. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. But you need to know that I truly loved you Marc, and I always will. Even if it’s not in the way you wanted me to.”
“I wish you all the best in the world, because you honestly deserve it. And I know that someday you’ll find someone great to live your life with. If you haven’t already.”
“I love you.”
“Goodbye.”
He is shaking and crying. He can’t believe this happened. How could this have happened? Why did this happen? Why did Roman, such a kind and good person, have to die? Why was he not allowed to grow old, to live the life he always wanted? Why?
“I love you too, Roman. And I always will.”
~
He can’t bring himself to look at it.
He knows what it is - he’s not an idiot after all - but that’s precisely the reason why he can’t look at it. He’s not ready for Roman’s final goodbye. But then he’ll never be, will he? He’ll never be able to deal with it. He can’t deal with any of it. Not with his final goodbye, not with the funeral, not with emptying lockers and boxes filled with random stuff. He just wants to forget it happened, just wants to ignore it all. Florian tells him that it helped him and he needs to see it, and he knows that he does, but he still can’t bring himself to do it.
On the day of Roman’s funeral, he decides he just needs to watch it. So, he presses play and once the video starts, no matter how much it hurts, he can’t bring himself to stop it. He can’t stop listening to Roman talking to him. Not until the sound fades away and the screen freezes on Roman’s beautiful face.
And then, after a while, the screen turns black, and it’s all over.
~
When you see this, Deniz, I won’t be around anymore. Hopefully that doesn’t mean I still won’t be with you in a way. With all the others I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but with you...
You’re sleeping back there, like an angel. You know this day has been one of the best days of my life. What I actually mean to tell you is I’m happy about every moment I got to spend with you and every day that I was with you. It’s weird to say goodbye when you can look forward to seeing someone again. I’m so happy that I found you. That we found each other. And that’s why I’m not afraid anymore. Promise me you’ll look after yourself and keep an eye on Florian.
Thanks for always being so patient with me.
Thank you for everything.
I love you
~
Deniz knows life isn’t fair.
In a way he’s always known that. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept. It doesn’t mean that it’s nice to feel the rug being pulled out from under you. Not so soon after Roman’s death. Roman, his Roman, has just left this world, and now Vanessa is also ill and dying. And it isn’t fair, it isn’t, but then nothing is.
And he can’t deal with this, but he has no choice. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Vanessa’s kidney’s - not that he really cares about the details ( he would at another time but not now) - but he knows it’s not good. She’s his best friend, and he can’t lose her so soon after Roman. (He can’t lose her at all, but the timing is particularly bad.)
Oh, he wants to break down and give up, but he can’t. There’s nothing he can truly do for her, other than just be there for her, but perhaps that is enough. It was enough when she was just there for him when Roman had just died. It’s not the same, he knows that, but what else is he going to compare it to? There’s a moment where he thinks he’s actually going to lose her, but then suddenly she’s getting better. And he can finally breathe when they tell him that Vanessa will be alright. Because she’s alive. And that is the best thing in the world. But there is a part, a small part he tries to ignore, that wonders why Vanessa got to live while Roman died.
But that’s just life he supposes.
And life isn’t fair.
He’s always known that.
~
It’s so, so late.
And she is so tired.
It’s normal, she thinks, because she’s only just getting better. Deniz is here - he’s here a lot, actually and she’s grateful for it - talking about random nonsense. There was a moment, back when she thought she was actually going to die, that she wondered whether she would get to see Roman and Jennifer again. And Deniz is here and he seems so happy she’s alive, and how can she tell him that she’s not the only one of her family that lived when everyone thought she would - or did - not? How can she tell him after Roman has only just died?
Because Jennifer, her sister, is alive. Because somehow she’s alive and now Vanessa has one of her sister’s kidneys. And she’s grateful, but she still can’t believe that Jennifer allowed her to think she was dead. How could she do that? The worst part is that if she hadn’t gotten ill, if she hadn’t needed a new kidney, than she might have never have known. She might have always believed that Roman and Jennifer were together in the next life. Skating together across the clouds.
It’s the happiest moment in her life and, in a way, the worst. Because she’d somehow asked for this, didn’t she? When she’d first been told that her older sister had died, she screamed and cried and begged. She begged God, or whoever was in charge, to please return her sister to her. She would give up anything, he could take anyone else, she just wanted her sister back. She hasn’t believed it would happen of course, and she honestly forgot that moment
ever happened. But then Jennifer was suddenly back in her life, returned to her, and Roman was dead. And she wondered, suddenly, if that was the bargain.
Did she exchange her friend, Florian’s brother, Deniz’s boyfriend, for her sister? Was that the bargain she’d made? Roman for Jennifer? Oh, she knows that didn’t happen, it makes no sense, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling like it did.
She’s still happy her sister is alive though, she just wishes that Roman was too.
~
“Don’t forget about me”
“I love you incredibly much and I’ll miss you terribly.”
"Take care of yourselves.”
Summary: Roman Wilde, ice skater, has died, on the ice he loved so much.This is the after.
Bargaining
~
“But actually it doesn’t matter how much or how little time there is I want to be with you.”
~
The single most important thing about time that he knows: nobody can control it.
Regardless of what happens, or what they wish for, it will just keep ticking away. Roman is dead. He still can’t quite believe that happened - something else he cannot change. This is the world they will live in from now on. Deniz might spend the rest of his life wishing that things would be different, but it is what it is.
He knows there are a million things that need to be done, and he doesn’t want to think about any of them. (He had never been aware of how much needs to be done when someone dies.) He doesn’t want to deal with this, but someone has to, and it’s not like he can make Florian do everything on his own. He’s already let him deal with far too much on his own. There are still people that haven’t been told, papers that need to be filled, and God knows what else. And the DVD that Roman send him, the one that isn’t actually his, is constantly on his mind. He doesn’t know what to do with it - actually he does know what to do with it, he just doesn’t want to deal with it right now. He doesn’t want to go and see Marc to give him Roman’s last goodbye. Why did Roman send the DVD to him anyway? Why not skip the middleman and send it to Marc directly? Perhaps, Roman had simply wanted to make sure that someone told Marc what happened in person. If he was worried about that, he should not have been because despite the fact that Deniz doesn’t like the other man, he still wouldn’t have allowed him to find out from the news. Because he knows, he knows that if their situations were reversed, he would have wanted Marc to call him.
So many things that need to be done, so many things to think about. He doesn’t want to think about all that, but if he doesn’t, he has to focus on the fact that Roman is dead. And he can’t do that. He can’t think about Roman lying motionless on the ice - not that he could forget it if he wanted to, but focusing on something else might make him feel a little better.
It doesn’t, but maybe if he tries it for long enough, it might help someday.
~
‘Hi Katja, and Ben, I suppose, you must be wondering what this is about. Wel,l if you’re seeing this it means that I can no longer talk to you in person.’
~Nobody bothers to call them - not that Katja blames any of them, certainly not Deniz. She wouldn’t have remembered to call anyone if it had happened to her, so she understands. Still, it hurts that neither of her sisters bothered to call her with the news. Instead, after a few hours, it was Ben’s sister Vanessa who called. That actually makes the fact that her sisters didn’t call her worse; they should have remembered that Roman was her friend too. She didn’t believe Ben when he first spoke; he had to repeat the sentence - Roman is dead - three times before it finally sank in. She would never see him again, they would never joke or have a serious conversation again. They would never truly get past their arguments - oh, they’ve been on their way but they still had some ways to go. Now he would never know the things she should have told him - like the fact that he was the best trainer she could have ever wished for, and an even better friend. There is so much, so much that they still had to do, but it’s all disappeared in the blink of an eye, and she can’t quite believe it.
He would have won the ice skating competition, she knows that; he would have become the male ambassador. Because he was just that brilliant. Together, they would have travelled, and skated, and they would have had the time of their lives. And now, now he’s dead and someone else will be in his place, and that feels so incredibly wrong. Oh, she doesn’t doubt that whoever wins will deserve it, but it should have been Roman, it should have been. Ben tries to speak, but no words come out. It’s not like it matters: what is there to say? She knows she should call Annette and Lena, and Deniz, but she can’t quite make herself move. She should be with them - even if her sisters forgot for a moment that she existed - but that won’t happen until later. Not until after there’s a knock on the door, not until after she’s holding Roman’s last goodbye in her hands.
She doesn’t want to watch the DVD, she doesn’t want to say goodbye, not yet (not ever). But she has to - they have to - because whatever he said, it was quite clearly very important to Roman.
Play.
There he is, she thinks, alive and happy and so Roman.
It’s a short video, filled with words about friendship and ice skating. He talks about what could - should - have been and how sorry he is that he’s going to miss it all. “You’re the best ice skater I’ve ever trained, Katja, and you’re going to do amazing things.” Oh, Roman, she thinks, I was always amazing because you were the best trainer in the world. “Don’t feel guilty about being the ambassador. Don’t feel guilty about all the fun you’re going to have. Just go and be amazing and have fun for me.”
“I wish you guys all the best in the world. And I know you’re going to have a long and happy life.”
Stop.
The screen freezes on Roman’s smiling face.
~
“I love you guys.”
“Goodbye.”
~
~
“Honestly, in the beginning, did you think we would ever become friends? But somehow a really wonderful friendship was born. Which might be due to the fact that we love the same woman. I know Annette will be horribly mad right now, and that she’s locked herself in her room. And I’m sorry because I know you’re to one to deal with that. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I wanted to spend my last weeks as if everything was fine. Even though it really wasn’t. We both know Annette. She’ll eventually get over it, and she’ll come out of her room, and she’ll realize she’s not actually mad at Deniz but at me, which, for reasons of propriety is a total no-go of course. She’ll need you then, Ingo, and I know you’ll be able to explain it to her and I know you’ll be there for her.
~His hands are shaking.
He’s only just noticed.
They’ve probably been shaking all along, but for some reason his brain hadn’t registered it. Maybe not though, maybe the shaking only stared when those DVD’s arrived. It doesn’t matter; they’re shaking, a fact he’s only noticed because he pressed play. He’s not ready to watch it, he’s not ready to say goodbye to his Hasse, he’s not ready for any of it. How can this be the end? How can so many years of friendship end with a simple video? How can Roman’s last goodbye be a one way conversation, something he can never, ever respond to? He knows he needs to see it because it’s important. But when the video ends that will be it, there will nothing left of Roman. How could he do this to them? How could he not allow them a final hug, a goodbye, some meaningful speech Ingo hasn’t thought of yet? Oh, he understands why Roman didn’t tell them - at least theoretically he does - but that doesn’t make it fair. Still though, it was Roman’s life and he had the right to make whatever choice he wanted, even if Ingo wants to scream that it was the wrong one.
So play.
And there he is, his Hasse. He’s so real that Ingo almost expects him to leap of the screen. There’s a part of him, a small one, that knows that this would be far easier to watch if Roman was acting completely out of character. Or that could have been worse, he doesn’t know. Roman is right there, so close and yet so far away, but Ingo can never tell him anything again. But Hasse knew him and that’s what matters.
He wants the video to play forever, to never come to it’s inevitable end. He wants to watch beyond Roman’s final words, to ignore entirely what comes after.
But of course it ends.
( “Honestly,” that’s how Roman begins his video, “did you think we would ever become friends?
“No, Hasse,” Ingo whispers. “I did not think we would become such great friends. But it is the best thing that ever happened to me. I hope you know that. I really hope that you do.”)
Stop.
~
“Don’t forget me.”
“I love you both incredibly much.”
“And I’ll miss you terribly. “
“Take care of yourselves.”
~
~
‘Ok, Flo I’ll start with you because I know that I won’t have to explain why I didn’t announce my illness to the world. Still there’s a thing or two I’d like to say to you.’
~
He had not expected that Roman would still find some way to say goodbye.
Not with the DVD and certainly not with the letter he finds much later. He honestly figured that Roman had already said all he wanted to say, that since he knew the end was coming, he’d made it his mission to do so. That he was, simply, done. But apparently not, apparently there are still some things that his brother wanted to tell him, or perhaps tell him again. Or it might simply be that Roman made this DVD to make him feel a little bit better. (He admits, later, that that is probably why Roman wrote those letters to him and their parents.)
He doesn’t want to watch it, but he knows that not watching it will be far, far worse. Besides, it doesn’t matter how much time passes: he’ll never be ready for, so he might as well watch it right now. At least he’s not alone, at least Lena is here. And yet, and yet, a part of him wants her to go, wants to hear Roman’s last words on his own. But he can’t tell her to leave either - it doesn’t make sense, but then not much does anymore so who cares?
‘First of all, I’m sorry that we weren’t in contact for so long. I’m so very glad you left Gerenhausen for big town Essen and came to stay with us.’
He had never told Roman, but him coming to Essen to live with his brother hadn’t been a spur of the moment decision. He’d been thinking about it for quite a while, though he can’t point to a specific moment in which he decided that this is something that he needed to do. He didn’t tell him because he found it embarrassing. And because he was afraid to find out that while he spend his time planning this, Roman hadn’t thought about him once. He should have told him, he knows this; Roman would have liked to know.
‘In the beginning, you were a pain in the ass, and you know you’re a loudmouth. And let’s face it you didn’t start particularly gay-friendly. Still, we kind of raised you. And I’m really happy I got to see you slowly grow up.’
He’s glad Roman raised him, and he’s glad for all the knowledge that he imparted on him. He wishes he’d told him those things, and so many other things. So much he still has to say, so much he should have said. All of it is now nothing but dust in the wind.
‘I’m so proud of you. I wish you all the best with Lena. If you run into trouble, Deniz will be there for you, and Marian too. Do me a favour. Don’t let everyone mope alone at home. Organize a party at the lake.’
Organizing a party for his dead brother seems weird and yet, at the same time, completely right. He thinks that perhaps the ice rink would be better; it was Roman’s second home, after all. But he can’t imagine walking into the place where his brother died and celebrating his life just a few feet from where his body lay. He can’t imagine ever walking into that place again - considering he’s an ice hockey player, this might, at some point, give him trouble, but he doesn’t care.
He will do this, though, for Roman. He will round everyone up, and they will go to the lake and light candles. He just wishes Deniz were here as well.
~
“Flo, I love you.”
“I wish that all your dreams will come true.”
“Take care of yourself.”
~
~
Marian is the one who calls him.
If he’s being completely honest, Oliver is kind of surprised that Marian remembered to do that. Oh, they are still friends, but things were, inevitably, different. But considering what had just happened, Roman dying, he would never have blamed Marian if he had forgotten all about him. After all, he thinks later, when somebody you care about dies, that person that moved away to Africa years ago is probably the last person you think about. He wouldn’t have, at least, but Marian had. Roman hadn’t forgotten about him either, hadn’t forgotten they had once been close friends and had sent him his final goodbye. Oliver is grateful - he is, he truly, truly is - but he also wishes that the DVD didn’t exist. It’s so weird and surreal.
Perhaps if he’d stayed, everything would now be different. The guilt is almost overwhelming. Oh, that doesn’t make sense, he knows that. He’s completely aware of the fact that staying in Essen would not have saved Roman. He could not have changed what happened. He’s sure that Roman saw every doctor he could, so what could he possibly have done? But Roman is his friend, and he can’t help but think that if he’d just stayed, that Roman might still be alive.
He still looks the way that Oliver remembers him. Somehow he’d been expecting him to look different, he was dead after all. But not, he thinks, not when this video was made, so it’s logical that he looks the way he did before. All he does is talk about friendship and all the things that Oliver did for him over the years -some that form his point of view weren’t that important but that had apparently mattered a lot to Roman. And then, just to prove to him that Roman knew him and would be able to tell what he is feeling, the other man tells him it’s not his fault.
“Never feel guilty about leaving Oliver, there was nothing you could have done.”
His words help, they do, but they can never make the guilt fade away completely.
Nothing will ever be able to do that.
~
When the phone first rings in the morning, Diana ignores it.
It’s not because she has no desire to talk to people - there are so many of her friends that she hasn’t talked to in weeks - but because she simply doesn’t have time. She’s already running late, and she knows herself: if it is one of her friends calling, she’ll never get to work. So she lets the phone ring and promises herself that when she gets home, she’ll call whoever it was back immediately. She’s out of the apartment before the answering machine picks up. Later, much later, when she finally hears Ingo’s message, she wishes she had waited to hear it. Because his voice - so broken, so lost, in so much pain - would have told her that it didn’t matter how late to work she would be. She had to call him back immediately.
She should have answered, she knows that.
But how could she have known what he was calling about? How could she have imagined it? How could anyone?
When she gets to work, she knows something bad has happened. She knows by the looks on their faces and the way they look at her. It had been almost the same when Jennifer died, but Diana had never cared about the other women, so she’d been able to ignore them then. But this? This is so much worse than that moment. Because this is Roman ,and he is dead She’s not a stranger to sudden death - she remembers how her fiancé died in the middle of her wedding - but that doesn’t make it any easier. In the distance, she can hear her boss telling her that she can go home for the day, and somehow she does.
(She’ll never know how.)
She can’t remember when she talked to Roman last.
She can’t remember what they talked about.
She never will.
~
When you move away, friendships inevitably change.
More so when you move to another country, to the other side of the world. Some friendships just fade away, like they never existed at all. The memories were still there, and the feelings had been real, but not strong enough to survive the distance. (And it’s not easy, Nina knows that now, it’s not. But that doesn’t make it hurt less.) Others manage to hold on longer - sometimes for years - but eventually those too cease to exist. Some change, morph into something else, but at least those still exist. (It’s logical that it all changes; the circumstances of their lives are different after all.)
Her friendship with Vanessa had survived mostly intact - but then they’d been friends for so long it would have been stranger if it hadn’t. And besides, Vanessa had lived in Boston for a while, closer to her than Essen was. And her friendship with Roman had also survived the move. They had this deal that they would try to call each other at least once a month. (They tried to aim for once a week, but there were weeks that this was completely undoable.) Still, they definitely talked once a month - and in-between, they would send dozens of e-mails - and it was more than most of Nina’s other friendships in Essen. They’d even gone out of their way to pick a day and a time that would be best for both of them. They never wavered from that time, they never changed the day. It was always the same.
Except for the last time.
He’d called her out of the blue, in the middle of the day on Tuesday. She didn’t think that much about it though. Perhaps he just had a moment of peace and thought of her. She should have realized something was wrong - because Roman was always so precise about the time and the day, and he sounded so different. But they had a completely normal conversation, just like every other one before it. (She wishes she could say it was exceptionally meaningful, but it wasn’t.) There was this one brief moment though, where they’d talked about friendship and loss and the passage of time. He mentioned, at the end, that he wished he’d been able to visit her at some point. The conversation had been slightly weird, but she was busy, so she’d told herself she would think about it later. And then Vanessa called to tell her that Roman had died. And in that moment she finally understood what that final conversation was actually about.
She should have talked to him more, she should have visited more. Screw her schedule and her job and everything else in her life. What do any of those things matter now?
Her first thought, when the DVD arrives, is that it looks so small and unimportant. And yet it’s the most important thing in the world. She can’t believe that this is how Roman will say his final goodbye. But there is a small voice in the back of her mind, telling her: isn’t this how you did it? Sure, you didn’t die, you just moved away, but you too could not bring yourself to say goodbye in person. Instead, you send them a DVD. That’s how you said goodbye. So why shouldn’t Roman do it this way? Why shouldn’t he be allowed to do it the way he wanted to? (And perhaps that’s where he got the idea from. Perhaps he remembers how unable she’d been to say goodbye and decided that a DVD was better.)
He hasn’t changed at all, she thinks. Death has changed him - irreversibly - but when this DVD was made, he was still alive and as such still the same. But she wonders, briefly, if she shouldn’t be able to tell somehow that Roman was dying, if it shouldn’t be obvious that the end was just around the corner.
“Hey Nina, I’m sure you have a lot of questions right now. But I’m sorry to say I don’t have any answers .I am glad we were friends, I truly, truly am. You are one of the best friends I’ve ever had. And living together, those few months, were the best time ever. You were the best roommate I could have ever had. You are a brilliant person, a kind person and you have a wonderful future ahead of you. Never, ever, ever let anyone convince you of the opposite.”
“I love you, Nina and I wish you all the best in the world.”
“And thank you. Thank you for everything you ever did. Thank you for listing to all my stupid and random problems. Thank you for all the advice. Thank you for just being you.”
“No, Roman,” Nina whispers. “Thank you.”
“Goodbye.”
~
When he gets back to work the DVD is already there.
It would appear that before he died, Mr. Wilde spend some time taping his final goodbyes. (And that’s the proof, isn’t it, the proof that the younger man knew this was coming.) He’d taken the time to make a general one for the people of the Steinkamp centre. Axel suspects that at some point, the DVD will make its way to him, so he simply goes to his desk, only to stop short at the discovery that the DVD is already there, except, he realizes, it isn’t the general goodbye.
His name on the disc clearly signifies that this one, this one is meant just for him. Which means that somewhere in his final days, Mr. Wilde decided that he deserved his very own goodbye. He’s not sure how he feels about that. He should look at it - he will, he knows that, because he can’t not - but not yet, he needs just a little more time. So instead, he does other things. He fills an hour of his life with random things, such as ordering flowers and trying to read his e-mails and just randomness. But the DVD is always there and when he realizes that he hasn’t actually read any of his e-mails - he’s just been staring at the screen - he decides he needs to watch it. What else is he going to do? But he’s not going to watch it here. Not where everyone can see him. Not that anyone is paying attention to him. Not that anyone will care about how he reacts. Still, he needs to be alone.
It’s another hour before he finds himself sitting on his couch staring at the TV. All he has to do is press play. That is all. But it feels like he has to move a mountain. It feels impossible. But he does it anyway.
He has to.
“Hey Ax… I mean Mr. Scw… you know what? This is my video. It’s my final goodbye to you, so I’m going to call you whatever I want to call you. There’s nothing you can say about it anyway. So let’s start again. Hey Axel.”
That was the thing, wasn’t it? He always insisted on calling him Mr. Wilde and on being called Mr. Schwartz. Like that was actually important. Like calling him by his first name, and being called by his first name, was the worst thing in the world. He can’t even remember why it was so important to him, he just remembers that it was. Not anymore though.
“So I guess there is a part of you that is wondering why I have singled you out to say goodbye too. Honestly, when I started these I hadn’t decided whether or not I was going to. But while I was making them, I realized that it was something that I needed to do, not that I can explain to you why. So here we are. The thing, is I’m not sure whether we are actually friends, but we’re not not friends either. So I want you to know that you were important to me. And I really do like you. I kind of admire your stubbornness and strength, even if they could be very annoying at times. You were a good friend - when you tried. I’m really glad I got to meet you, and I wouldn’t really change a minute about our past. Including that time we kissed in the elevator. You know, the kiss that freaked you out so much? Still, I wouldn’t change it. I’m glad it all happened.”
“Do me a favour? Please be kind to Deniz and Florian.”
“Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Axel.”
“Goodbye Mr…” Axel’s voice breaks. He sighs and shakes his head. Roman can’t hear him anymore, but still he should call him by his name. It’s important.
“Goodbye Roman.”
~
Vanessa spends the entire day in her house.
She calls Deniz almost every five minutes, but he never picks up. She knows that if he asked her to come, she would leave the house, but since he never answers, she never has to. She can’t go outside. She can’t face the world, not right now. She can’t make herself move from the position she finds herself in. All she can do is sit here and call Deniz. She doesn’t leave the house until Ingo calls her hours later to go to the lake, and she only goes because she suspects that she’d regret it if she didn’t go. But the rest of the day? The rest of the day, she spends seated on the couch and calls Deniz every five minutes.
Maximilian is the one who brings her the DVD. Apparently, Roman send it to the centre - which makes sense, she thinks because that’s where she usually is. But how could Roman think that the day he died could ever be usual? Maximilian offers to stay with her, a big brother for once, but she has to do this on her own. It has to be just between her and Roman. (Even if Roman isn’t actually there.)
She hits pause three times before she can actually watch it.
“Hey, Vanessa, so here we are. Looking back did you ever think we’d end up here? I suppose not. I mean, who would? In fact, for a while there it seemed like we would never be friends again. It’s so strange to think of that time. You should forget that ever happened, you know. It wasn’t that important. You are a great friend, Vanessa. And even if we didn’t always agree, I am truly glad I go to know you. Would you do something for me? You’re Deniz’s best friend and he’s going to need you. Please, please take care of him.”
“I’m going to miss you. I wish you all the best in the world.”
“Goodbye.”
“I love you.”
By the time Roman’s voice fades away she’s honest to God sobbing. She wishes she could actually talk to him, say all the things she wants to say and promise that yes, of course she’ll be there for Deniz. But the time for that has passed now hasn’t it? All she can do is be there for Deniz.
“Goodbye Roman. Say hi to Jen for me.”
~
Marian takes a deep breath before he presses play.
Like that’s going to actually help. He doesn’t even allow himself to think about it. He just inserts the DVD and presses play. He has to know what Roman wanted to tell him before he died. Roman is smiling; it’s a completely random thing to notice, but Marian does: Roman is smiling as he says goodbye.
“These last few days, your son has done everything to make me feel good. You should have seen him. He stole gas for me! Nearly pissed his pants doing it, too. You should be incredibly proud of Deniz. You did a really good job with him.”
If he’s honest he knows he can’t take all the credit for how all of that. Because he certainly made a lot of mistakes over the years - the way he dealt with Deniz coming out comes to mind. He thinks, briefly, that Roman taught his son just as many, if not more things, than he was ever able to.
“He kept his promise and you’ll have to do me a favour: please make sure the others don’t hold it against him too much. Although we had our difficulties in the beginning, you were always there for me. You were more to me than my boyfriend’s father. Sometimes you were like a father to me too. I never told you that but now you know.”
He had not known that. Roman hadn’t told him - he probably didn’t think it was important. He’s glad the other man thought of him that way though. He hopes the younger man knows that he considered him a part of his family. He wishes now that he had actually taken the time to tell Roman that and so much more, but there’s nothing to be done about it anymore.
“ Please do me a another favour. Can you look after Florian a bit? He needs a grown up role model in his life. Don’t forget me.“
Like anyone could ever forget Roman Wilde.
~
The entire world changes at exactly nine in the morning.
Actually, it doesn’t, he knows that, he just finds out it has changed at nine in the morning. In reality, it all changes the night before, at whatever time it is that
Roman died. But Marc had of course been unaware of that fact at the time. For him the world had still been the same, nothing had changed. (A part of him wonders if he somehow should have been able to tell. But then, he’s never believed in those kind of things.) No for him, the world changes at nine in the morning. He assumed, when he’d answered, that it was someone from work but it wasn’t. It was Deniz. And he knew, the second he heard his voice, that something bad had happened. Because why else would Deniz be calling him? Everything that ever needed to be said between them - none of them good things, admittedly - had been said years ago. All they’d ever had in common was loving Roman, and he’d lost him years ago. There is no reason for Deniz to call him, other than to tell him the world has ended. And it has in a way because Roman is dead.
Roman, his first love, the love of his life, is dead. Dead and gone, no longer a part of this world. He hasn’t been a part of his life for so long - not since he chose Deniz - but Marc had always liked thinking of him living happily in Essen. And now that thought is gone. Because Roman is nowhere. For the life of him, he can’t remember what it is that he said to Deniz in that moment but then he’s not sure the other man is aware of anything, so that doesn’t matter. He thinks, suddenly, that that which had once stood between them - their love for Roman - now somehow bound them. As the two persons who loved Roman and who lost him. As the only two persons who could understand what the other one was feeling. And isn’t that strange, he thinks, isn’t it strange that this is how it all turned out?
He’d talked to Roman a few days ago. They hadn’t talked in months before that, but suddenly, one random day, he’d called. It wasn’t even about something important, but he’d left the conversation with the thought they that might be able to be friends again. At the time, he’d sworn that he’d been able to hear Deniz in the background, but he’d dismissed that thought because it was so strange. Well, it’s not strange anymore, all of it now makes sense. Because Roman is dead. He can repeat that sentence a thousand, a million times and it still won’t sound real. He always knew they would probably never see each other again and that they would definitely never be an item again, but Roman was alive, and that is what mattered.
He just lived his life, he realizes, and Roman had been dying.
When the phone call eventually ends, he figures that’s the last time he’ll ever talk to the other man. But he’s mistaken. Because the next morning Deniz is at his door, looking broken and lost - just like he is - and just hands him an envelope. There are so many things that they can say to each other, so many things that might be helpful, but the words die in his mouth.
He can’t believe that the DVD he now holds in his hands is all that is left of the man he loves. That when he presses play, he’ll hear him talk for the last time.
“Hey Marc.”
He hasn’t changed a bit. It’s just the same face, the same beautiful eyes, the same everything. As Marc looks closely, he can tell Roman is ill - he’s just a little too pale, too shaky - but that might be because he knows.
“I know we haven’t talked, really talked, in a long time. I miss our talks. I’m not trying to make you feel bad, not at all. I just feel that you should know that you were my first love. My first true love. And a part of me has always and will always love you. I wouldn’t change anything about our journey, not even the bad things not really, because they’re us, you know? I’m glad you came back a few years ago, I’m glad all of it happened, despite all the consequences. It was something we needed. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. But you need to know that I truly loved you Marc, and I always will. Even if it’s not in the way you wanted me to.”
“I wish you all the best in the world, because you honestly deserve it. And I know that someday you’ll find someone great to live your life with. If you haven’t already.”
“I love you.”
“Goodbye.”
He is shaking and crying. He can’t believe this happened. How could this have happened? Why did this happen? Why did Roman, such a kind and good person, have to die? Why was he not allowed to grow old, to live the life he always wanted? Why?
“I love you too, Roman. And I always will.”
~
He can’t bring himself to look at it.
He knows what it is - he’s not an idiot after all - but that’s precisely the reason why he can’t look at it. He’s not ready for Roman’s final goodbye. But then he’ll never be, will he? He’ll never be able to deal with it. He can’t deal with any of it. Not with his final goodbye, not with the funeral, not with emptying lockers and boxes filled with random stuff. He just wants to forget it happened, just wants to ignore it all. Florian tells him that it helped him and he needs to see it, and he knows that he does, but he still can’t bring himself to do it.
On the day of Roman’s funeral, he decides he just needs to watch it. So, he presses play and once the video starts, no matter how much it hurts, he can’t bring himself to stop it. He can’t stop listening to Roman talking to him. Not until the sound fades away and the screen freezes on Roman’s beautiful face.
And then, after a while, the screen turns black, and it’s all over.
~
When you see this, Deniz, I won’t be around anymore. Hopefully that doesn’t mean I still won’t be with you in a way. With all the others I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but with you...
You’re sleeping back there, like an angel. You know this day has been one of the best days of my life. What I actually mean to tell you is I’m happy about every moment I got to spend with you and every day that I was with you. It’s weird to say goodbye when you can look forward to seeing someone again. I’m so happy that I found you. That we found each other. And that’s why I’m not afraid anymore. Promise me you’ll look after yourself and keep an eye on Florian.
Thanks for always being so patient with me.
Thank you for everything.
I love you
~
Deniz knows life isn’t fair.
In a way he’s always known that. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept. It doesn’t mean that it’s nice to feel the rug being pulled out from under you. Not so soon after Roman’s death. Roman, his Roman, has just left this world, and now Vanessa is also ill and dying. And it isn’t fair, it isn’t, but then nothing is.
And he can’t deal with this, but he has no choice. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Vanessa’s kidney’s - not that he really cares about the details ( he would at another time but not now) - but he knows it’s not good. She’s his best friend, and he can’t lose her so soon after Roman. (He can’t lose her at all, but the timing is particularly bad.)
Oh, he wants to break down and give up, but he can’t. There’s nothing he can truly do for her, other than just be there for her, but perhaps that is enough. It was enough when she was just there for him when Roman had just died. It’s not the same, he knows that, but what else is he going to compare it to? There’s a moment where he thinks he’s actually going to lose her, but then suddenly she’s getting better. And he can finally breathe when they tell him that Vanessa will be alright. Because she’s alive. And that is the best thing in the world. But there is a part, a small part he tries to ignore, that wonders why Vanessa got to live while Roman died.
But that’s just life he supposes.
And life isn’t fair.
He’s always known that.
~
It’s so, so late.
And she is so tired.
It’s normal, she thinks, because she’s only just getting better. Deniz is here - he’s here a lot, actually and she’s grateful for it - talking about random nonsense. There was a moment, back when she thought she was actually going to die, that she wondered whether she would get to see Roman and Jennifer again. And Deniz is here and he seems so happy she’s alive, and how can she tell him that she’s not the only one of her family that lived when everyone thought she would - or did - not? How can she tell him after Roman has only just died?
Because Jennifer, her sister, is alive. Because somehow she’s alive and now Vanessa has one of her sister’s kidneys. And she’s grateful, but she still can’t believe that Jennifer allowed her to think she was dead. How could she do that? The worst part is that if she hadn’t gotten ill, if she hadn’t needed a new kidney, than she might have never have known. She might have always believed that Roman and Jennifer were together in the next life. Skating together across the clouds.
It’s the happiest moment in her life and, in a way, the worst. Because she’d somehow asked for this, didn’t she? When she’d first been told that her older sister had died, she screamed and cried and begged. She begged God, or whoever was in charge, to please return her sister to her. She would give up anything, he could take anyone else, she just wanted her sister back. She hasn’t believed it would happen of course, and she honestly forgot that moment
ever happened. But then Jennifer was suddenly back in her life, returned to her, and Roman was dead. And she wondered, suddenly, if that was the bargain.
Did she exchange her friend, Florian’s brother, Deniz’s boyfriend, for her sister? Was that the bargain she’d made? Roman for Jennifer? Oh, she knows that didn’t happen, it makes no sense, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling like it did.
She’s still happy her sister is alive though, she just wishes that Roman was too.
~
“Don’t forget about me”
“I love you incredibly much and I’ll miss you terribly.”
"Take care of yourselves.”