There was no sound except for the streetlight’s buzzing as its light flashed on and off and on and off like an insect struggling to flap its torn wings. Beneath that light sat an old man on a small metal bench wet from the midnight fog. The street, so busy a few hours ago, was an empty space of endless infinity. There were no signs of movement, except for the man’s wrinkled hands, which occasionally gripped tighter and tighter a small green chalkboard on his laps.
The old man let out a sigh. His chest rose up and pushed down as white, fragile trails of smoke flew out of his cracked and purplish thin lips. One hand slipped into his trench coat’s pocket and pulled out a small piece of white chalk. He started scribbling a few words on the board’s surface, the letters bold and strong.
  “It’s really been a while since that day.”
He waited, then, using one of his sleeves, swiped the board. White dust clouded up, and as it cleared up from the board, a word appeared in the middle of it, delicate and slim-lined.
“Yeah.”
As quickly as it appeared, the word dissolved into another trail of dusk and disappeared into the night. The old man looked down at the cleaned and emptied board. A faint smile spread across his face as he indulged in silence again, contemplating.   

____________________________________________________

“Good morning Mrs. Thornburg. Is Dylan ready yet?”
“Oh, morning Alex. He should be done soon enough.” Mrs. Thornburg looked over her shoulder to the stairs leading upstairs, “He better be.”
Thumping sounds soon echoed through the whole house from upstairs, travelling rapidly from one space to another, finally approaching the stairs.
“Yo Alex!! Let’s go!” The red-headed boy, still with a bed head, sprang downstairs and out of the door, his backpack swinging left and right like a bell’s clapper. On the way, he linked one of his arms to the other boy’s, and soon enough, they were hitting the street. “Bye mom!!”
“Have a nice day, you two,” Mrs. Thornburg shouted back as the two boys ran down the sidewalk in the morning breeze. She closed the door behind her. Those two had always been this close for as long as she could remember. Sometimes, she thought to herself that maybe only death could possibly separate the pair.
“How much time do we have?” asked Dylan, still jogging.
“Uhhh,” Alex pulled out his cellphone and looked, “Around 15 minutes.”
“Alright, cool. I have time to copy your econ homework.”
“What?! But we had a whole week for that.”
“Well yah, but then you’re better than me in homeworking.”
  Alex sighed.
“I’ll buy you lunch today~~”
“I don’t even eat lunch at school!”
“Ohh yeahh,” He just remembered that Alex always cooked his meals—something about controlling-what-you-eat… what a careful kid, “Can you do me a favor real quick?”
“Uh… ye…es?” Alex nervously answered, glancing over.
“MARRY ME!!!” Dylan screamed and swung himself over Alex’s neck from the back, glomming like a lazy koala to a eucalyptus branch, “And cook for me every day and go to work with me and do my taxes for me and everything too!” He flashed a mischievous Cheshire Cat grin, teasing the other boy.  
“My neck, my neck, my ne..arg.. eck.” He tried to break free, but failed. Dylan looked at his watch as Alex struggled, “Oh ----. We’re gonna be late,” He finally let go and sprinted ahead, a black composition notebook in his left hand, “I’ll give you back at lunch!”
“Wait, is that my…” Alex reached over to his backpack, finding it open, “DYLAN!” He started chasing after his friend down the street.

___________________________________________________

Beep. Beep. Beep. “Hey can you get me a fork too while you get your food, Alex?” “Alright,” The small-framed boy stood up from the table and walked over to the microwave. He tossed the white, plastic utensil across the room to his friend, who caught it in between his hands.
“Do you want to go on the school’s roof?” Asked Alex, walking back to the table.
“I don’t know. You wanna?” Dylan replied while stirring the spaghetti he got from the school’s cafeteria.
“Well the weather does look nice today…” Looking out of the window.
“Aight. Let’s go then.” The red head stood up, then headed toward the door, slurping noodles as he walked. Red sauce smeared itself around his lips. Both of them then walked up the marbled school stairs to the roof.
The clear blue sky reflected the dashing sunlight, making it even brighter than usual. The wind blew gently, carrying with it the rustling from the schoolyard’s trees. Occasionally, a few birds sang along, harmonizing with the symphony as the white, puffy clouds lazily drifted across the azure endlessness. Alex and Dylan sat criss-crossed on the cold tile floor, small empty lunch bowls lying around them, facing each other.
“Huh, the weather really is nice today,” Dylan lifted his face all the way up to take in all of the majestic beauty. He twisted open his Gatorade bottle and started chugging down. His Adam’s apple moved up and down repetitively. Then finally, he let out a loud satisfied exhale, “Ahhh!”
“I think it’s starting to get hot, actually.” Alex spoke as he tried to huff out air from his sweater. He was about to roll up the sleeves, but stopped for a quick second, then pulled the sleeves back down. He grabbed his aluminum bottle and drank, trying to cover up his previous action. However, Dylan saw through his attempt instantly. Putting his drink down on the floor, he looked Alex straight in the eyes, “Hey.”
“W..what?” He startled.
“You know I love you right?”  Dylan said calmly. There was a seriousness in his tone.
Alex was taken by surprise, but catching his friend’s quick glance at his covered-up arm, he understood. He chuckled a little bit, “You’re so gross,” Then he bursted out laughing.
“Hey! What was that?!” But Alex was still laughing at his friend. Then he stopped.
“Thanks, Dylan.” He said, with a grateful smile on his face. Seeing that, Dylan breathed out in relief a little bit. He smiled back, feeling reassured, and leaned back. His medium-length red hair fell down along his forehead, slightly moved to the sides whenever a breeze flew by like a fiery field of tall grass.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
“Oh ----. Lunch ended!” Both hurriedly cleaned up their things to avoid being late for their next periods, “Oh ----! No no no no!”
“What?”
“I forgot to copy your econ homework!!”
“HAHAHA! That’s your problem, dude.”
“Yo let me borr..”
“Bye!” Alex ran toward the stairs before Dylan could catch him off-guard again.
“Wait wait wait wait Alex. We’re still watching Friends today on my Netflix right?”
“I thought you wanted to watch Avenue Q?” Alex spoke from the middle of the stairs.
“After.”
“Oh, okay. See you in a bit then.” He turned around and continued walking.
“Hey, what you wanna eat?” Dylan was finally done putting his things back. He started to catch up with Alex.
“Anything is cool, really.” Dylan raised his left eyebrow as he heard this. “……Alright fine. I miss your mom’s pasta with fried calamari.”
“Hehe, that’s more like it,” He grinned and started typing a text on his cellphone. “‘Hey momm, your second son wants pasta with calamari tonight. Love you!”’
“Yeah yeah, now hurry up to your class, dude.”  
“It’s cool, I can just sneak in.”
“………..I can’t believe you.” Alex rolled his eyes to the side.
“Ten years, my friend. Ten years.” He swung his arms behind his neck as he flashed another cocky grin, his signature trademark.                 

___________________________________________________
The rest of that Friday passed by peacefully. The students were like a ticking time bomb–they were waiting for the moment those second hands to climb their ways up through the vast white field, graze through the lazy minute marks, and jump through the minute and hour hands to reach those twelve’s in Times New Roman font.
Fortunately for them, they did not have to wait for long. The anticipated beeping sound rang and echoed its way through all the classrooms and down the halls. Following that, a rumbling sound of thousands of teenagers stampeding toward the exits erupted. It was almost as if they could be stomping someone to death, but they wouldn’t even notice–just like the Mufasa’s dead scene from Lion King. Instead of rushing out like everyone, Dylan headed to the locker room calmly, whistling as he steadily put one foot in front of another. He took a left turn and saw Alex, who was on his way home, carrying two big scrolls of white paper in his left armpit.
“Yo,” Dylan said to Alex, “You heading home right now?”
“Yeah, good luck with practice today.” He replied while readjusting the paper scrolls.
“Thanks,” Pointing at the papers, “Student council?”
“Yeah… I’m in charge of the outline for the upcoming dance.”
“Ohhh, hey, tell me the theme so I can start thinking about how to ask you.” Dylan snickered jokingly, and then they both started laughing.
“Okay, but that’s double the roses from last time.” Alex added on to the joke.
“That’s nothing! I will also throw in a horse and we can ride it into the sunset!”
“Haha, deal! Now go to your practice. You’re going to be late, dude.” Alex shook his head toward the track’s direction.
“Oh ----,” Dylan slightly panicked and jogged down to the locker room so he could change. “See ya in a bit then, Alex.”
“See you in a bit.” They said goodbye to each other and then went their own way.      
They always walked home together, but Dylan was on the high school’s track team: he was always out late. Alex would wait for him at a corner near school, either reading or playing on his phone. One day, Dylan walked to the street corner as usual, expecting to see his friend. Instead, he saw a mob of people standing and murmuring amongst themselves. His heart started beating harder than ever. His breaths, his steps slowly picked up speed as he tried to squeeze his way through the crowd of people. He couldn’t explain why, but there was a strange anxiety circling, permeating everywhere around him.
What he’d feared the most dropped him to his knees. There his best friend was, lying on the cement, his raven-dark hair covering half his face, his head cushioned by a puddle of dark, crimson blood. There were specks of glass in the puddle, shimmering as they picked up the different hues of orange, yellow, and purple of the sunset. People still murmured. Sirens blasted all over as men and women in uniforms tried to move everyone out of the way.
None of that fazed Dylan. His mind blocked everything out, leaving only silence. Everything was cut off. Time was frozen.

__________________________________________________

The time was exactly 5:32PM. Mrs. Thornburg was watching TV before she noticed a frail, lifeless figure slowly making its way down the stairs toward the door.
“Are you heading out again?” She turned off the TV and gave her full attention to her son, who was putting on his shoes.
“Yeah,” Dylan said under his breath, tying his shoelaces.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Mrs. Thornburg put down the remote control and came toward Dylan, pulling her black pajama bottom up while walking. She kept a decent distance between the two. 
Dylan slightly turned his head from left to right. He got up, turned the doorknob, and stepped out of the doorway.
“Hey, Dyl?” He stopped.
“You know I love you right?” She spoke, hoping to somehow reach her son. She was fiddling with the long sleeves of her shirt.
“………….Thanks mom,” The words left his mouth as he flashed a faint smile before closing the door. It felt stiff and awkward, as if his oral muscles were frozen. It was all he could manage in expressing himself.
Mrs. Thornburg stood there and stared at the closed wooden door for a bit, then made her way into Dylan’s room. Carefully opening the door, the first thing she noticed was how disastrous the place was. Shirts, pants, socks were all crumbled and threw on the floor carelessly. Some of them were half-hanged in the wide open closet. Trophies and medals were not on the shelves like they would normally. Instead, they were also all over the floor, some broken. She remembered all the grunting and crashing and thudding sounds she sometimes would hear at night, accompanied by sounds of screeching and wailing. There was a shattered lamp on the floor, next to the small black TV. Mrs. Thornburg carefully picked up all of the broken pieces and placed them on her palm. She noticed a few dents on the wall, surrounded by cracks. She gently touched them and slightly rubbed her thumb against the surface. She let out a sigh.
After throwing away all of the sharp pieces of the broken lamp, Mrs. Thornburg looked at the tray of food she left for her son this afternoon–cold, just like everything else. He didn’t touch his food again. The poor mother then sat on his bed, eyes glued to the warm spot he’d laid on for the whole day. She panned her view towards the stained pillow. She was devastated for her son, but she was also proud of him for actually leaving the room. She knew how much it must have taken for him just to get out of bed, considering what he’d gone through at the time.
A single tear trailed along her cheek. Dylan never liked his room to be perfectly cleaned and organized. He told her that it wouldn’t feel like a home if it was too clean. It would feel cold like a hotel. Looking at the room, Mrs. Thornburg said to herself softly, “Maybe that’s true, but…” Her eyes filled with sorrow, “This is colder, Dyl… This is colder…” She cowered herself on the edge of the bed, among the chaos. The woman sat there by herself as the sun receded into the sky. Her red hair shined dimly in the dark like a single flame, desperately trying to warm up the frozen wasteland surrounding it.

___________________________________________________

Dylan sat there on the concrete, amidst people walking back and forth. He had been doing this for the past six months. Day by day, he came to this exact spot at this exact time and sat there. People said it seemed like he was waiting for someone. He was waiting for Alex. For whatever reason, he was waiting for Alex.
One day, he stayed a lot longer than usual, until people no longer walked the streets. He spotted something in the corner of his eye–words. They were written with white chalk.
“Hey Dylan.”
His eyes widened. Those weren’t there when he came here a few hours ago. He was fairly certain that no one sat down next to him either. He focused on the two words for a few minutes, processing all of the possibilities. He sprung up to his feet and looked around.
“Alex? Alex. Alex. Alex!” His voice gradually became louder and louder. Turning around, he saw Alex sitting next to the chalk inscription, smiling innocently like nothing had ever happened. It was strange. He was there, but it also felt like he wasn’t there.
Dylan reached his arm out, attempting to place it on Alex’s shoulder, but pulled back right away. Alex was cold, like a snowy night in the middle of winter. But it wasn’t the biggest reason; Dylan noticed that his hand went through Alex’s shoulder. He stood there in silence. Alex, taking out a piece of chalk from his pants pocket, traced on the sidewalk’s concrete.
“Sorry…”
“Why?”
Alex looked up, leaning his head to one side.
“Why did it have to be you?” Dylan muttered under his breath. Alex quickly wrote another “Sorry.” on the ground.
“NO! Don’t say that!” Dylan’s stern shout startled Alex “It’s not your fault. It…” He choked on his words. “It..it’s not….it’s wasn’t your fault!” He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. Alex stood up, extended both of his arms, but then retracted them right away, remembering the situation. Alex then started bouncing and jumping and waving his arms around like a deer in panic. Finally getting Dylan’s attention, the boy used his two index fingers to push the corners of his lips upward into a smile.
Dylan was stunned. Noticing a glimpse glistening at the corners of Alex’s eyes, he forcefully wiped away his tears and snot with both of his sleeves. He then beamed a smile as bright as the sun. It did not feel stiff or awkward this time. It was a real, genuine smile on Dylan’s face for the first time in months.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Alex. Hehe.” He sat down and jotted down a few words using a piece of chalk that was lying on the ground.
“You -------, I missed you.”
“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Alex joined in on the conversation, giggling a little.
“Are you gonna leave again?” A slight pause. “Alex?”
“No,” He finally responded. “I will be here this time.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”

__________________________________________________

The old man was sitting there on the bench, hands still holding onto the chalkboard. He let out another sigh.   
“Time sure flies fast…” A sentence appeared on the board and then quickly disappeared.
“It does.” He scribbled on the board quickly and a little shakily. The man developed a cough, which was little at first, growing more and more violent as it continued. Trails of smoke quickly coiled into fog in front of him.
“Why aren’t you with your family? It would be a lot better for you to stay with them instead of out here.”
He simply shook his head left to right. It seemed like he was getting weaker and weaker as his breaths became heavier. He never settled down, never established a family. The only wish he had was to be here at this very spot, with the one person whom he treasured the most. He lifted his head and stared into the distance. Something was coming for him.
A shadowy figure. Slowly, but steadily, it made its way towards the old man with the chalkboard. From out of nowhere, a young boy, no older than 17, ran up to the shadow and jumped around, waving his arms, as if he was begging it for something.
“A….lex…” The old man finally spoke. The boy turned around, only to see him shaking his head left to right again. He held up the board with the words “It’s okay.” with a smile on his face for the boy to see.
The shadow continued making its way to the old man. It stopped in front of him and placed its hand on his eyes, closing them. The old man’s grip on the chalkboard slowly drained away until he had no more force to exert. The man opened his eyes again, blinking as he looked left and right. He then looked down at his two hands, which were young, energized, and wrinkle-free. He turned around, and as he saw himself there with a peaceful look on his wrinkled face, he smiled, proud of the result of all his years living in the world. Looking up, he saw the boy again. His raven-dark hair fluttered in the wind.
“Dylan?” The boy asked. There was a mix of uncertainty and gladness in his voice. “I..I..” The man, who was now a boy again, stopped him before he could finish the sentence, running into him as fast as he could, arms wrapping tightly around his body.
“Finally! I can’t believe it. Alex, finally I can do this again!!” He shouted from the top of his lungs as ribbons of tears streamed down, tears that soaked the other boy’s shoulder.
“God, you’re so loud,” Alex chuckled loudly, then buried his head into his friend’s shoulder, trying to hide the muffle sounds he himself was making. The two of them stayed in each other’s embrace like that the whole night, giving comfort to one another. They really were inseparable, after all.