muses_w_remotes | 5.3. Pirates of the Caribbean quote
5.3. “If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it.”
| Pirates of the Caribbean
Half a packet of cigarettes. By the time he finished the smoke dangling between his shaky fingers, he would have gone through half a packet of cigarettes in less than an hour. It was official: HIV wasn’t going to kill him, lung cancer was.
He cleared his throat and quickly stubbed the half-spent cigarette out in the ashtray sitting on the step beside him. The crisp, white unopened envelope lay neatly just beyond the small crystal dish and Riley closed his eyes from it and turned his head away again to look at the leaves of the tree out the front of his apartment block blowing softly in the fall breeze. It had been six and a half hours since the results had been hand-delivered to him and he’d made no attempt to open that envelope. He kept putting it off, waiting for the right moment. But how could any moment be right?
He’d come home after his shift two hours ago and revealed nothing to Tab. She’d seemed anxious when he arrived back and immediately asked if there was any news. Somehow, he convinced himself that when he’d nonchalantly said ‘Nope’, he wasn’t lying. There was no news because he hadn’t read the results that were stuffed in the bottom of his work bag that he casually threw on the sofa before going and showering. It couldn’t even be put down to procrastination. Procrastination was just knowing you had to do something and not bothering your arse to actually do it. Riley didn’t just not want to open that envelope - he wasn’t sure he could.
Shifting his feet made a soft scuffing sound on the concrete step. He had been out here an hour, telling Tab he just needed to get his head together. He really wanted her there with him but he knew she’d pick up straight away if something was awry with him. She always did. Hell, he had even seriously contemplated on the drive home just handing her the envelope and telling her to open it for him. That would’ve been the easiest and quickest solution; the band-aid fix, so to speak. It was still an option, but by now he was fearing the results too much and he couldn’t in his heart lay that on her. Drowning himself in a string of chain smoking instead seemed to be a better option than opening the damn thing.
And then there was Evie. She’d become more important to him more quickly than he thought possible. He found now that when he thought about Beth, it was different. He still cared for her, but it was more of a deep-seated friendship, wondering how she was going back in Scotland now that they had closed the book on things. It was different with Evie. It was fresh and new. There was no history and no heartache. There was only his own hang-ups. He knew that how he had been acting lately could be construed that he didn’t want to commit to her or wasn’t sure if he even wanted to be with her. She said she got it, but how can anyone really know for sure what’s going to happen around the corner? He also couldn’t live on what-ifs. He had to open that envelope, whether it was now or next year.
When he picked the envelope up, it was hesitant; held tentatively between his finger and thumb like it was about to ignite and burn him. It was taking all his effort not to cry from the overwhelming rush of feelings pouring through him. What the hell? If it was negative, he could’ve put all this added terror to bed hours ago and gotten on with his life. His hands were shaking with earnest now as he forced his finger under the lip of the seal and started to tear it open. The rip roared in his ears like it was a semi-trailer truck speeding by and not just the shred of paper. Strange, though, his street was silent, not even a passing car, yet the ripping seemed to echo throughout the whole block.
He drew a rough, raspy breath as he fumbled with the envelope and pulled the folded sheet of paper out from inside it. The envelope dropped to the floor and he stared for a few numb moments at the paper. No matter what was inside, he was going out tonight to get piss-blind drunk. Knowing had to be a relief, right? It was the unknown that had about eaten him up inside. It was the anticipation of could that caused him to want for the briefest moment to take his own life three months ago. No. He had to know. He couldn’t handle not knowing anymore.
Squeezing a hand over his eyes, he flipped the paper open with his thumb. A count to ten was forced through his mind as he tried to brace himself through it. “Please, fuck, be negative. Please,” he whispered hoarsely and then took his hand away, opening his eyes to read.
His name…
His date of birth…
His blood group…
And then there it was. In stark black, bold letters almost reaching out from the paper and clutching him sharply somewhere between his chest and throat…
VIRAL SEROLOGY
Three months post-exposure : HIV antibodies - POSITIVE
Positive…
His throat caught on a sharp, shocked inhalation and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. The paper crumpled in his fist as he clutched it and slumped heavily against the cold steel stair railing.
He was HIV Positive.
- asinthecity & imnodoctor referenced with permission
Words | 926
| Pirates of the Caribbean
Half a packet of cigarettes. By the time he finished the smoke dangling between his shaky fingers, he would have gone through half a packet of cigarettes in less than an hour. It was official: HIV wasn’t going to kill him, lung cancer was.
He cleared his throat and quickly stubbed the half-spent cigarette out in the ashtray sitting on the step beside him. The crisp, white unopened envelope lay neatly just beyond the small crystal dish and Riley closed his eyes from it and turned his head away again to look at the leaves of the tree out the front of his apartment block blowing softly in the fall breeze. It had been six and a half hours since the results had been hand-delivered to him and he’d made no attempt to open that envelope. He kept putting it off, waiting for the right moment. But how could any moment be right?
He’d come home after his shift two hours ago and revealed nothing to Tab. She’d seemed anxious when he arrived back and immediately asked if there was any news. Somehow, he convinced himself that when he’d nonchalantly said ‘Nope’, he wasn’t lying. There was no news because he hadn’t read the results that were stuffed in the bottom of his work bag that he casually threw on the sofa before going and showering. It couldn’t even be put down to procrastination. Procrastination was just knowing you had to do something and not bothering your arse to actually do it. Riley didn’t just not want to open that envelope - he wasn’t sure he could.
Shifting his feet made a soft scuffing sound on the concrete step. He had been out here an hour, telling Tab he just needed to get his head together. He really wanted her there with him but he knew she’d pick up straight away if something was awry with him. She always did. Hell, he had even seriously contemplated on the drive home just handing her the envelope and telling her to open it for him. That would’ve been the easiest and quickest solution; the band-aid fix, so to speak. It was still an option, but by now he was fearing the results too much and he couldn’t in his heart lay that on her. Drowning himself in a string of chain smoking instead seemed to be a better option than opening the damn thing.
And then there was Evie. She’d become more important to him more quickly than he thought possible. He found now that when he thought about Beth, it was different. He still cared for her, but it was more of a deep-seated friendship, wondering how she was going back in Scotland now that they had closed the book on things. It was different with Evie. It was fresh and new. There was no history and no heartache. There was only his own hang-ups. He knew that how he had been acting lately could be construed that he didn’t want to commit to her or wasn’t sure if he even wanted to be with her. She said she got it, but how can anyone really know for sure what’s going to happen around the corner? He also couldn’t live on what-ifs. He had to open that envelope, whether it was now or next year.
When he picked the envelope up, it was hesitant; held tentatively between his finger and thumb like it was about to ignite and burn him. It was taking all his effort not to cry from the overwhelming rush of feelings pouring through him. What the hell? If it was negative, he could’ve put all this added terror to bed hours ago and gotten on with his life. His hands were shaking with earnest now as he forced his finger under the lip of the seal and started to tear it open. The rip roared in his ears like it was a semi-trailer truck speeding by and not just the shred of paper. Strange, though, his street was silent, not even a passing car, yet the ripping seemed to echo throughout the whole block.
He drew a rough, raspy breath as he fumbled with the envelope and pulled the folded sheet of paper out from inside it. The envelope dropped to the floor and he stared for a few numb moments at the paper. No matter what was inside, he was going out tonight to get piss-blind drunk. Knowing had to be a relief, right? It was the unknown that had about eaten him up inside. It was the anticipation of could that caused him to want for the briefest moment to take his own life three months ago. No. He had to know. He couldn’t handle not knowing anymore.
Squeezing a hand over his eyes, he flipped the paper open with his thumb. A count to ten was forced through his mind as he tried to brace himself through it. “Please, fuck, be negative. Please,” he whispered hoarsely and then took his hand away, opening his eyes to read.
His name…
His date of birth…
His blood group…
And then there it was. In stark black, bold letters almost reaching out from the paper and clutching him sharply somewhere between his chest and throat…
VIRAL SEROLOGY
Three months post-exposure : HIV antibodies - POSITIVE
Positive…
His throat caught on a sharp, shocked inhalation and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. The paper crumpled in his fist as he clutched it and slumped heavily against the cold steel stair railing.
He was HIV Positive.
- asinthecity & imnodoctor referenced with permission
Words | 926