[Fic]:The Irreplaceable (2/2)
Part One is here.
Mark fell asleep again after dinner.
Chris and Dustin crashed in the living room after watching a movie. Eduardo didn’t join them. There was a feeling of shared peace between them that he didn’t want to intrude.
Besides, he would rather stay by Mark to make sure Mark was alright.
Eduardo was sitting uncomfortably in a small chair when Mark woke up in the middle of the night, whispering groggily. “Wardo?”
“Mark,” Eduardo was by Mark’s side at an instant.
But Mark didn’t say anything. He just tugged at Eduardo’s arm and Eduardo followed, lowering himself to the bed until his head was on the pillow next to Mark’s.
Mark went back to sleep after that, but Eduardo understood and slept by his side.
“I didn’t cry at his funeral,” said Mark. Eduardo looked at Mark’s expression and knew that not even Mark understood it either. “I’ve always felt guilty about that,” Mark whispered as Eduardo listened silently. They were still in bed, Mark’s too-warm legs tangling with Eduardo’s.
“Are you supposed to cry at funerals?” Eduardo asked.
“I guess. It’s to express how sorry a person is to lose someone,” Mark shrugged.
Eduardo didn’t need Mark to cry to know how painful it was for him to lose the Original Eduardo. It was there as the invisible heaviness on his shoulders, the dead silence that he must have kept between Chris and Dustin, the guilty way he looked at Eduardo sometimes.
“Don’t be guilty,” Eduardo said. “I don’t think there are rules to how you’re supposed to feel.”
Grief was a strange thing. It came and went whenever it wanted.
Eduardo didn’t want to imagine how it would feel if he was to lose Mark.
Because he never wanted to let go.
Mark was irreplaceable.
Eduardo never thought of death in that way before.
He didn’t want to imagine or accept the fact that Mark would be gone one day, too.
Eduardo didn’t want to think about death ever. It never occurred to him back in that Place what it meant to be a clone, what it meant to be completed. Death was almost a privileged. Something that made him special. A piece of identity that was his own.
But everyone had to complete at one point.
Eduardo wanted to live now.
Chris and Dustin left in the morning.
Chris thanked him and waved good bye.
Eduardo thought that Dustin was going to give him the cold shoulder as he had done, but he didn’t. Dustin slapped a hand on Eduardo’s back and gave Eduardo a smile, one that made Eduardo think they could be friends. Eduardo just blinked with confusion for a moment. He looked at Chris for help, but Chris just shrugged in that Don’t Ask Me About The Strangeness of Dustin kind of way. Eduardo didn’t know what about this moment particularly that made him smile, but he did.
Mark walked up to his side and wrapped an arm around Eduardo, placing a hand on his hip. He couldn’t read Chris’ and Dustin’s expressions as a response to this, but he could sense their grudging acceptance, which was good enough for him.
But he could also sense the tension in Mark’s touch, like he was afraid.
“We’ll catch up with you two later,” said Dustin, and that was enough. A silent agreement of acceptance.
Chris didn’t say anything, but he did give them a reassuring smile.
Chris and Dustin were nice people. No matter how strange or painful or quirky they might find Eduardo, they were willing to accept anything for Mark’s happiness.
Eduardo wanted that. He wanted people. He wanted love.
They were watching TV on the couch, a short episode of some comedy show because staring at the screen for too long made Mark tired. Mark was leaning against Eduardo’s shoulder, breathing heavily because his nose was stuffy. Eduardo was watching Mark from the corner of his eyes instead of paying attention to the TV, checking on Mark every second to make sure he was okay.
“Chris and Dustin said it wasn’t my fault.”
Eduardo tucked a curl behind Mark’s ear and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. Eduardo knew that when Mark was ready, he would tell him.
“They thought I hated them for Eduardo’s,” Mark hesitated. A loud silence followed, where the word hung heavily between them.
Eduardo squeezed Mark’s hand, telling him that he knew what Mark was trying to say.
Death wasn’t something Eduardo wanted to accept either.
Mark swallowed and squeezed Eduardo’s hand back.
“I thought they hated me,” said Mark. “Because it was my fault. Eduardo was coming to see me, but I waited for him instead of picking him up. I knew he wanted to be a surprise, but I should have gone anyway.”
Eduardo let go of Mark’s hand and wrapped his arm around Mark’s shoulder instead. He imagined Mark, pacing in his office, waiting for a doorbell that will never ring, for a sound of approaching car in the night that will never come. For a person who will never arrive.
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Eduardo. “You didn’t cause that accident.”
Mark didn’t say anything at first. He pursed his lips, turning away from Eduardo as if he couldn’t bear to look at him. “That’s not it. You don’t even know me.”
Eduardo felt a pang of hurt and annoyance at that accusation. “I may not know everything about you, but I do know the important parts.”
Mark pulled away from Eduardo. “Oh really?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Did you know then, that I hurt Eduardo so much he had to flee to another country? That I hurt him so much he couldn’t bear to look into the face of his former friends?” Mark gave him a challenging look. “Hurt him so much that he hated me?” At this Mark chuckled weakly, but it came out as a wheeze, a heaviness that made his eyes wet and his shoulders shaking. “Hurt him until his final moment.”
Eduardo swallowed. He didn’t know any of this, didn’t know the depth of Mark’s shadows, the guilt and the pain and the mistakes that Mark carry on himself.
“I’d hurt you too,” said Mark. Eduardo reached for Mark, but Mark jerked away from him. “If I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.”
“You’re already hurting me,” said Eduardo, and Mark was stunned to silence. “I can’t watch you this hurt without feeling hurt too.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m not hurt. It meant nothing to me if you suffer,” Mark said coldly. “If being around me pains you so much, then why don’t you just leave then?”
“You know I can’t leave,” said Eduardo.
“I’ll help you leave. You need documentations? Papers? They will be done. Nothing I can’t do.” Mark rose from the sofa and turned his back on Eduardo.
Eduardo wondered if he was reading Mark wrong. If he was seeing Mark as more than what was there. But deep in his gut, Eduardo knew that what he had seen before was true. He just had to trust himself. Trust Mark.
“That’s not what I meant,” said Eduardo, desperate to stop Mark from running away. “I can’t leave because I don’t want to.”
Mark became very still.
Eduardo let out a soft sigh. He moved forward slowly, hand hovering over Mark’s, not sure if he should touch him. If at skin contact, Mark would flee.
“Mark, please look at me.”
Mark didn’t move.
“I’ll still be here when you turn around.”
Mark didn’t say anything, didn’t move, but Eduardo could feel the atmosphere around them changing. Eduardo’s words did something.
A silence stretched between them.
Then, so softly that Eduardo almost didn’t hear him, Mark whispered. “Will you?”
“I will,” Eduardo reached for Mark’s hand and intertwined their fingers together.
Slowly, Mark turned around, emotions so clear that Eduardo almost didn’t understand why he even doubted his instinct in the first place. Eduardo tugged Mark closer and rose onto his feet to pull Mark into his arms.
“See? I’m still here.”
Eduardo wondered if this was what living meant. To love, but also to hurt, to be hurt and to hurt others. To hold on tight to what he had even though death could split them apart.
Eduardo only wanted the good parts of living, but living wasn’t like that. Living meant that he had to embrace it all, the good and the bad.
Living was wonderful.
Eduardo wanted it.
Eduardo had forgotten about the balloons.
“What do they mean?” asked Mark. Eduardo didn’t ask why Mark was in his room for fear that Mark would leave. Eduardo remembered how Mark used to hover around his door, afraid of crossing that invisible boundary.
“I don’t know,” Eduardo replied. “Dreams. Hopes. Maybe something more. I remember really liking balloons when I was back there.” Eduardo never talked about those days, not to Mark. It wasn’t a big deal, but there was something about the memory that made Eduardo felt ashamed, as if he wasn’t good enough for what he had now if he was reminded of who he really was.
“You don’t draw them anymore,” said Mark. Eduardo had said that he was going to fill the whole wall with balloons, but he never finished.
“No,” said Eduardo. “Not anymore.”
Eduardo wondered what that meant, that he had lost this part of himself.
“There’s nothing wrong with dreaming,” said Mark.
Not if they constantly remind you of what you can’t have, Eduardo thought, but didn’t say aloud.
Mr. Saverin called. He was getting married.
He sent them an invitation, but he also wanted to invite them personally.
They accepted.
“I didn’t know that Mr. Saverin isn’t with his wife anymore,” said Eduardo.
“No, he isn’t,” said Mark. “They divorced after their son’s death.”
Eduardo didn’t know what he could say to that.
Eduardo felt like he was living in the shadow of someone else, even though that person wasn’t in this world anymore.
But this- this life, this face, this body-wasn’t his own.
He never had anything in the first place.
Every time he took a step forward, it felt as if he was being knocked back.
They were sitting in the kitchen, Eduardo drawing, when Mark asked if he could see Eduardo’s sketchbook.
“Not right now.”
Eduardo was reluctant because he knew what was in there and he didn’t want Mark to see, didn’t want Mark to know the emotions that were threatening to burst out of his chest every time he looked at Mark. These feelings were his alone, and he didn’t want the Original Eduardo in Mark’s memory to take them away from him.
“Did you love him?” Eduardo couldn’t help himself but ask. Then, realizing what he just said, he clenched his fists, bracing himself for the answer that he feared. “The Original Eduardo.”
Mark, confused by Eduardo’s sudden divergence, said slowly. “He was my best friend.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
A pause.
“Yes,” said Mark, looking away. “But he didn’t love me back.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” Eduardo said. There was no way the other Eduardo would not have loved Mark. This Eduardo loved Mark so much it hurt. This Eduardo would give away all the balloons in the world, give away the cloudless blue sky, give away anything to be by Mark’s side.
Eduardo didn’t have anything now. No hopes. No dreams. Only a bottomless hole of want that sucked away everything and constantly reminded him of what he couldn’t have.
“I,” Mark pursed his lips. “I told him. He’ll probably say that it’s disgusting that I….He doesn’t….He had a wife.” Mark smiled bitterly, sad, but he held his chin high, as if he didn’t care that it hurt. “He probably hated me.”
Eduardo didn’t think that Mark was disgusting. Mark was bright and beautiful and he was still wonderful in spite of flaws. He was so bright that Eduardo wanted to kiss him, breathing him in, pulling his body flushed against his until all Eduardo could hear, see, and feel was Mark.
Sometimes Eduardo wished that Mark was his Other, his Original, so that they could complete as one person, so that Mark was made of Eduardo. So that Mark would always belong to Eduardo and Eduardo to Mark. So that Eduardo would beat with life within Mark forever.
But even that wouldn't be enough because Eduardo wanted to see Mark live with him, wanted every single second that he got to spend with Mark, wanted every smile and every tear.
Eduardo didn’t think that the other Eduardo hated Mark. He left everything that was the remainder of his life to Mark. But all the material possessions that he left in his will were useless because Mark didn’t want any of that. Perhaps he wanted to possess Mark anyway he could. Perhaps he wanted Mark’s heart even after his death.
This Eduardo wouldn’t do that. Mark deserved more than leftovers. But Mark deserved more than what Eduardo could give him.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault that he didn’t love me back,” said Mark.
“No,” said Eduardo. “I’m sorry that I can’t be him for you.” That much was true. This Eduardo wasn’t real. This Eduardo could be replaced, but the Original Eduardo could never be replaced.
The irreplaceable.
The only thing Eduardo could do now was to fill in the space that the Original left behind.
“Wardo,” Mark breathed softly in his ear. “I don’t want you to be him.”
Eduardo froze.
“I-” Mark clutched at Eduardo’s arms tightly. “You. Just you. I want you to be just you.”
Eduardo looked at Mark, looked at the way Mark eyes focused on him, only him, and then Eduardo felt something burning at the back of his eyes and tightening his throat, because for the first time, Eduardo hoped that Mark saw him as Eduardo, as an entity different person from the ghost of his Original. He never thought that he could be anything but a piece of someone else, never complete, never whole, never his own person. But Eduardo wanted it, wanted to love and to be loved, wanted the happiness and the pain of living as his own self.
Mark wanted him to be who he was.
It was there all along, wasn’t it? That desire to be real, that frustration that he wasn’t. That need to be an individual. A person.
“Just me,” said Eduardo.
“Just you.”
Eduardo repainted the rest of the balloons on his wall. He gave them a blue sky. A sun. A reminder of the limitless horizon.
Eduardo dreamed. He hoped.
One day, he will grow into someone irreplaceable.
Mr. Saverin’s wedding was in April, the first full month of spring. It was a lovely wedding. Mr. Saverin and the new Mrs. Saverin looked really happy. Eduardo wished them all the best.
The former Mrs. Saverin was there too. She was with someone. She seemed happy as well, her face glowed with dimples and laughing lines. She shook Eduardo’s hands and hugged Mark.
“I’m sorry,” said Mark, and Eduardo was startled. Eduardo didn’t think Mark would say it to her.
Her face softened into something else, something warm and kind with a tint of sadness. She squeezed Mark’s hand and gave his shoulder a light pat.
Eduardo even saw her giving Mr. Saverin a hug later, a well-meaning smile on her face.
Mark said that they had a very bad split-up at Eduardo’s funeral, but they made up and were still in contact.
The wedding was lovely. The weather was lovely.
It felt like a new beginning.
“I bumped into Eduardo’s wife the morning after the wedding,” said Mark.
“What happened?” Eduardo didn’t know this. He spent most of the following morning sleeping in the hotel, so he didn’t notice when Mark went out.
“We….spoke,” said Mark. “It was nice. She was a good person. I didn’t know they were divorced.”
“What else did she say?”
“She told me that he knew it before he died,” said Mark. “Eduardo knew that I loved him.”
“He knew it all along.”
They visited the Original Eduardo’s grave.
Mark touched the gravestone, caressing Eduardo’s name with his finger.
“Thank you,” said Mark.
It didn’t sound like a goodbye, and it wasn’t one. Eduardo knew that Mark would always hold the Original Eduardo close to his heart.
Eduardo got to his knees too.
“You will be remembered,” he said, wondering if the Original Eduardo could hear him. “Always.”
One day, Eduardo walked in the kitchen and found a dozen balloons greeting him good morning.
“Mark?” Eduardo called out, tugging at a bundle of colorful balloons in wonder. “Where are you?”
“Happy birthday,” a chorus answered him. Eduardo had to move another bundle of balloons before he caught the sight of Mark, Chris, and Dustin at the kitchen counter.
“Is it really my birthday?” asked Eduardo.
“He doesn’t even know his own birthday!” Dustin cried, and Eduardo was startled. In all of his time in Dustin’s presence, he’s never known that Dustin could be this energetic and alive.
“Leave him alone,” said Chris. “You’re scaring him.”
“It is your birthday,” said Mark. Then, as if he could read Eduardo’s mind, he added. “Your very own.”
His own birthday. Not the Original Eduardo’s birthday, but his own.
They got him a ridiculous looking chocolate cake with crazy icing because apparently, Dustin, whose job was to pick it up, didn’t know how to stop being a kid (as Chris so aptly put it). Mark tried baking a cake, but after he nearly burned down Chris’ kitchen, they decided to spare Eduardo since it was the first celebrated birthday he had with them.
“I would love to eat it, nevertheless,” said Eduardo.
“Maybe next year,” Mark mumbled, and Eduardo beamed.
“You really don’t want it,” said Dustin. “When he tried baking me one for my birthday, I thought he was trying to poison me.”
“Shut up,” said Mark.
“It’s not like your baking is any better, Dustin,” said Chris.
Eduardo laughed, feeling so happy that he was afraid all of this would disappear if he blinked. He thought about how wonderful this was, how wonderful it will be, how there will be a next year, and a year after that, and a year after that. Even if he wasn’t sure whether he had the year after, he still had the now, and he wanted to live it to the fullest.
Mark, Dustin, and Chris taught him how to play video games, and Eduardo was horrid at it. But, being here with people, with Mark, creating all of these memories, that was all Eduardo wanted.
Afterward, Eduardo went to the back porch with a bundle of balloons in his hand. He took Mark with him.
“Dream with me?” asked Eduardo. He let go of the balloons in his hand and watched them rose to the blue sky above, traveling through the unlimited horizon.
“Yes,” said Mark, and held Eduardo’s hand in his.
Among the pile of letters that Mark had yet to open, underneath the bill statements and the credit card advertisements, was an envelope.
Mark will open this envelope, and he will find a single piece of paper folded neatly in threes. Eduardo will be by his side, then and always.
And Mark will read it, neatly written by a hand that he once knew.
Mark,
May Happiness Be Yours.
“I need you.”
“I’m here for you.”
Fin.