[PART SIX] - CLOSED
THE SOCIAL NETWORK KINK MEME
ASK THE MODS * FAQ * DISCUSSION * RESEARCH * FILL LIST * PART ONE * PART ONE (OVERFLOW) * PART TWO * PART TWO (OVERFLOW) * PART THREE * (PART THREE (OVERFLOW) * PART FOUR * PART FIVE
GENERAL RULES;
IMPORTANT: please DO NOT post prompts about any non-public people as part of a prompt. for ( Read more... )
ASK THE MODS * FAQ * DISCUSSION * RESEARCH * FILL LIST * PART ONE * PART ONE (OVERFLOW) * PART TWO * PART TWO (OVERFLOW) * PART THREE * (PART THREE (OVERFLOW) * PART FOUR * PART FIVE
GENERAL RULES;
IMPORTANT: please DO NOT post prompts about any non-public people as part of a prompt. for ( Read more... )
***
Eduardo were their name.
(“Their” because Madame scolded him for claiming a name that was not solely his. It belonged to someone else too. Madame said that Eduardo wasn’t really his name, because he borrowed it from the real Eduardo, who lived in the outside world from these cottages, and therefore was the real Eduardo.)
(Eduardo was not a “he,” but a “they.”)
They knew that Eduardo existed in two halves: One here, the other “Outside.” But Eduardo knew that one day they will be completed. One day, when they were old enough, each pieces of this half will join the other, and they will become one.
Eduardo were happy. Soon, they will be completed. Soon, Eduardo will solely exist Outside. One day, Eduardo will be “he.”
(Sometimes Eduardo felt something sharp clawing at their chest, thinking about how everything was “theirs” and not “his.” Eduardo wondered what it felt like to have something that was “his.”)
Eduardo dreamed a lot about the world Outside. Eduardo didn’t know what Outside looked like, but to Eduardo, it was glorious and beautiful and unattainable like a dream balloon floating away at the distance, hovering on the skyline. If Eduardo closed one eye, they could pinch the shape of the balloon between two fingers.
Eduardo never had a balloon, but they had seen pictures of balloons floating between the worn pages of old children’s books, hanging over the horizon like colorful bubbles of hope and future.
Eduardo wanted to hold a balloon so badly. It didn’t have to be their own. Eduardo just wanted to know what it felt like to dream.
***
Eduardo learned that they were all replaceable.
There was this boy named Greg, the same age as they. When Eduardo were six, Greg fell off a tree and snapped their neck.
When Eduardo were eleven, there was another five-year-old Greg as a replacement. Eduardo knew that if they die, there would be another Eduardo as a replacement.
***
The Donors left one by one.
Eduardo wondered what it felt like to be completed, to become one with the being in the Outside. (Because none of them, none of the Donors were ever a “Real” being. They existed in meaningless halves, waiting to complete their Others.)
Perhaps when this heart and these lungs and this blood pulsed with life in Eduardo’s other body, Eduardo could finally become a real person. Eduardo would no longer be a “they,” but a “he.”
Perhaps Eduardo could finally have a balloon once they completed.
Eduardo sketched balloons on their cottage walls. Eduardo waited. The colorful bubbles soared like hope on the dab gray wallpaper.
***
Eduardo wanted to have Meaning.
Perhaps Eduardo would have Meaning once they completed.
***
One day, Eduardo will have a balloon. One day, Eduardo will have many balloons.
One day, Eduardo will let them go one by one to float on a clear, cloudless blue sky.
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They stuffed Eduardo in a windowless van and cuffed their hands together. Eduardo sat in the darkness as the van rolled forward toward the unknown.
Eduardo traced the shapes of balloons on their palm and tried not to be scared.
When the van stopped, the men in dark suits came again and pushed Eduardo through a sterile hallway. They put Eduardo in a sterile room with nothing but four blank walls. Eduardo felt cold. They gave Eduardo a blanket. They told Eduardo to wait.
Eduardo curled in a corner and waited. Eduardo wondered if it was their turn to be completed. Eduardo should be happy to be a part of a real person, but all Eduardo could feel were a deep regret and a overwhelming fear. Eduardo didn’t want to give up life yet, even though it was never Eduardo's own life to begin with.
Ridiculous. Eduardo should be ecstatic to be completed. Eduardo will finally have Meaning.
Eduardo will get a balloon. Eduardo will be able to dream.
But when the door opened, there were no dark men in suits. There were no doctors in cold white coats like the ones that took Roger away for donation. There was no Madame that came and berated Eduardo for things that Eduardo did wrong.
There was only a boy, no older than Eduardo, clad in a soft blue hoodie, cargo shorts, and flip flops. They had light curly hair that framed a sharp, tired looking face. They walked toward Eduardo’s corner, casting a shadow over Eduardo when they stopped in front of them.
“I’m Mark,” they said.
Oh, Eduardo thought. This Mark was not a “they” but a “he.” This Mark was a real person. Eduardo almost felt envious.
“We are Eduardo,” Eduardo replied, feeling small somehow, like Mark was towering over him. Mark was real, but Eduardo wasn’t. Eduardo didn’t have a real name, only a borrowed one from the Original. Eduardo didn’t have enough Worth to speak to a real person. “We’re sorry,” Eduardo felt compelled to add.
Mark frowned, studying Eduardo with an intensity that made them squirm. Mark’s eyes were very blue. Blue like the sky.
The shadow that fell over Eduardo retreated as Mark moved to sat on the floor in front of Eduardo. Eduardo attempted to scoot away because Mark was so much more than this lowly Eduardo who wasn’t even the real Eduardo, but Mark stopped them with a hand on their arm.
“Eduardo is your name,” said Mark.
“Yes,” Eduardo replied, not daring to make eye contact with Mark when Eduardo was so worthless. “Eduardo is our name.”
“No,” Mark said firmly. “Eduardo is your name. Your own name.”
Eduardo did not understand.
“Say it,” Mark’s grip became tighter. “Say: ‘My name is Eduardo.’”
Eduardo swallowed a lump in their throat. “I can’t. It’s our name.”
Eduardo was a borrowed name. This Eduardo didn’t deserve to own that name, but the Original did.
But Eduardo really wanted it. Eduardo wanted this name to be his. Not “theirs,” but “his.” Something that solely belong to one. Eduardo wanted to taste the independence with the roll of this name on their tongue.
“My,” Eduardo began, feeling a strange courage running through their-no, his, his own-body. “My,” he repeated, relishing at having something that was his own. “Mine.”
“My name is Eduardo,” he said.
My name is Eduardo. My name is Eduardo. I am Eduardo.
“Yes,” Mark said. “Your name is Eduardo.” There was something sad in his voice.
Eduardo looked at Mark, looked at the light reflecting on his curls, looked at the blue of his eyes. He felt like he was holding a thousand balloons in his hand.
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“You mean, your home from the Outside?”
“What?” Mark frowned, but then, as if he understood without Eduardo telling him, he nodded. “Yeah. Outside.” There was something heavy in his voice as he turned away from Eduardo stiffly.
Oh, Eduardo thought, feeling ashamed of himself. He reminded Mark of the obvious difference between them. Mark was real and Eduardo wasn’t.
But then something warm wrapped around his hand, and Eduardo realized that it was Mark’s hand. Mark’s shoulder bumped against his. Mark’s hand was cold, but the grasp on his hand was steady and strong, as if his grip could somehow anchor Eduardo into something solid and real.
Eduardo squeezed his hand back. He wanted to be real too.
***
Mark’s home was a bright and airy place. Mark showed Eduardo to a room with a large window facing the backyard sitting beneath a blue, cloudless California sky. When the wind blew the thin yellow curtains fluttered like sheets of sunlight.
“You can have this bedroom,” Mark said.
“It’s,” Eduardo swallowed, eyes tracing the white linen of the large bed and the high ceiling and the soft carpet and the afternoon light filtering though the glass. “It’s….”
“It’s yours,” said Mark.
“It’s mine?” Suddenly it was very difficult to look at Mark because his eyes were stinging. It was his. This room was his.
"Yes."
His.
***
Eduardo asked Mark for color pencils. Mark bought a set for him, one with hundred of colors squeezed in one box.
Eduardo took them and drew colorful balloons on his walls.
***
Mark spent most of his time in his home office. Mark said Eduardo was free to wander around the house however he wanted.
After a few days of exploration, Eduardo finally decided to walk into Mark’s office. It was dark. The curtains and the windows were shut.
“Why am I here?” asked Eduardo. He was grateful that Mark came for him, but this freedom wasn’t his. He wasn’t a real person. He didn’t deserve to see the Outside world with his own eyes.
“I’m not an Original,” Eduardo whispered softly. “I’m not supposed to be here. And you’re not my Original.”
“No, I am not,” Mark nodded, the laptop light illuminated his small form hunching over the office desk with a cool blue.
“Where is my Original?” asked Eduardo. “Does he…does he need…” Does he need me to complete him?
Mark paused. The room fell into an eerie silence without the steady sound of typing. “No, he did not.”
“Oh,” Eduardo said, shuffling his feet.
“Eduardo,” Mark said, and Eduardo looked up at Mark, who refused to meet his eyes. “The other Eduardo,” Mark clarified. “He’s….” Mark took a breath, as if it was physically painful for him to think about this.
“He’s dead,” Mark lifted his chin as if the gesture would give him more courage to withstand the weight of his words. “It was a really bad car accident. There was nothing the doctors could do. He left all of his possessions to me in his will. That is why you are here.”
“Oh,” was all Eduardo could manage. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to say.
What was he supposed to say when he realized that his purpose in life was to replace someone else?
Eduardo was as replaceable here as he was before.
“I am here to replace him?”
Mark stared.
He chuckled sadly. “No. You are not here to replace Eduardo.”
Before Eduardo could say anything, Mark continued. “Because Eduardo is irreplaceable.”
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oh, mark!
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seriously, this is incredibly gorgeous and so sad and i just want more!
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(He was with Mark now, and Mark said Eduardo could be whatever he wanted to be. Eduardo only wanted to be himself.)
Tonight, however, Eduardo could not get the thought of Mark and the Original Eduardo together from his mind. Eduardo felt something ugly twitching within him, but he clamped it down when he thought about how sad Mark looked when he mentioned the Original Eduardo.
Eduardo wondered if he should feel guilty, because if it wasn’t for the Original Eduardo’s death, this fake Eduardo wouldn’t have been a real person.
Eduardo wondered if he was stealing the Original Eduardo’s life, if he was stealing the Original Eduardo’s bedroom, if he was stealing the Original Eduardo’s Mark.
But all Eduardo could think about was how sad Mark had looked. He wished suddenly that he could be the Original Eduardo, because maybe then Mark wouldn’t look so sad.
But the Original Eduardo was irreplaceable.
Eduardo shouldn’t feel jealous, but he did.
The balloons on his walls looked fake. Felt fake. Were fake.
Eduardo shifted to his other side so he didn’t have to look at them anymore.
***
Mark saw Eduardo’s balloons once, when he passed by the hallway and Eduardo’s door was open. He didn’t say anything. He watched the colorful circles floating up the wall and didn’t say a word.
The next day, Eduardo woke up to several buckets of paint by his door, each color matching each balloon on his wall. He gingerly picked up the set of paintbrushes and the sheets of plastic covering.
Eduardo painted the balloons on his walls. He kept the windows open to air out the room.
It took a long time, but when he was done, the balloons seemed real. He looked at them and felt something deep within him coming to life.
***
Eduardo watched Mark a lot. He watched the hunch of his back over a laptop, the long fingers flying over the keyboard, the tilt of his pale neck when he stretched….
But Eduardo’s favorite part of Mark was his blue eyes. Blue like the sky. Blue like the sea at a distance. Blue like the water that tickled his toes and licked at the tiny pebbles by his feet. Eduardo knew because he watched Mark a lot.
Mark would take him to places and stood back while Eduardo ran to explore with delight, but Eduardo always watched Mark even though Mark thought he wasn’t looking.
Mark never seemed like he enjoyed their trips, but Eduardo knew, knew because he watched Mark a lot, knew when he saw the tensed slope of Mark’s shoulders melting and the coil of his back unwound, and, one memorable time that became Eduardo’s favorite, Mark’s tightening his lips to hold back a smile. Eduardo knew.
They went to the beach today. The air was misty and the sky was milky white, but Mark was wearing a blue hoodie, the one that brought out his eyes and sharpened the bright color of his curls, so Eduardo felt as if Mark was carrying the all missing colors for him anyway.
They flopped down onto the sand, listening to the waves dancing over the shore.
Eduardo wanted to watch Mark, but he realized that Mark was watching him this time.
“What is it?” asked Eduardo.
“You smile a lot,” Mark replied.
“You don’t,” said Eduardo.
“Why should I?” asked Mark. “And why do you?”
Why did he? Eduardo thought, but he didn’t have to think very hard because the answer was obvious all along.
“Because it feels great to be alive now. Because it feels great when you’re here.”
“Oh,” said Mark, looking at Eduardo in amazement, and Eduardo didn’t know why, but something was fluttering within him.
Eduardo knew that he shouldn’t do it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Did the Original Eduardo smile a lot?”
Mark stiffened, and for a moment Eduardo thought that he had screwed everything up, that he had broken a line that they weren’t supposed to cross.
But Mark answered. “Yeah, he does, but not for reasons like yours. He smiled a lot at business meetings. Or at his wife.”
“Oh,” was all Eduardo could managed.
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