Chapter 8 - Kilian
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Kilian
“And then?” My sister slid her empty plate aside and propped her elbows on the table. “Did you kiss again?”
“No! I walked him home, and that was it.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Nothing!” I was still in complete disbelief about it myself.
“Huh?” Yael scrunched her face. “You just walked silently next to each other through the city?”
“Ugh,” I groaned in frustration. “No, of course not, but it wasn’t like we had deep conversations.”
Yael reclined in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she regarded me thoughtfully. “There’s something off about him.”
“Of course! I kissed him, and now he’s sad.” Slightly annoyed, I nudged my empty plate away and reached for my glass. “He even thanked me for walking him home.” I drank the rest of my Diet Coke in one go and set the glass back on the table.
Yael twisted a dark brown strand of hair around her finger. “Maybe he just isn’t into you.”
“Oh, come on!” I snapped. “You should have seen him! How he kissed me! He’s totally into me.”
“Sure. I’m sure he just can’t get enough of your giant ego.”
She was well aware that she always had the last word with that remark because I refused to respond to it.
When the waiter appeared to clear our plates, we both ordered an espresso.
“How’s everything else going?”
“Good,” I mumbled, still lost in thoughts about Dominic—and his lips. Damn! I wondered if he knew how erotic they were.
“Kil?”
I glanced up.
Yael leaned in closer, resting her elbows on the table and clasped her fingers together. “Should I be worried?”
The shadow that crossed her hazel eyes was unsettling. “No,” I said, clearing my throat. “Everything’s fine.”
She casted a concerned glance at my bouncing leg. “You don’t even realize how worked up you are, little brother.”
“I’m fine, so stop it.”
“Ma and Pa say hi. They’d like to see us again sometime.”
“I talked to them last week.”
Yael laughed and tilted her head back in her chair so the waiter could set our coffees down. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it. They’d love to see you more. Oh, by the way, we’re all going to the last light show at the gallery.”
“The last one?” I echoed, adding sugar to my espresso. “That’s not until the end of August.”
“It’s the only date that works for all of us.”
I rolled my eyes. “And you’re blaming me for not showing up more often.”
“You know what I mean. Don’t take it personally. We just love you.”
“I love you too, sis, but can we drop the sentimental talk?”
Yael was five years older than me and had been with the same guy since she was eighteen. She claimed to be happy, but I didn’t buy it. While I dumped my emotional life at her feet almost monthly, she handled things more like a man, withdrawing when she wasn’t feeling well.
Maybe it was partly my fault because when my manic phases started, I was only ten, and Yael was right in the middle of puberty.
She quickly learned that I needed more attention and handled her own problems alone.
As much as we had fought during our youth, she’d never held anything against me for it.
“I’ll be right back.” Yael gulped the rest of her espresso and rushed to the bathroom.
I picked up my phone, hoping to distract myself with Instagram. I was aware of how my leg was bouncing nonstop. Was I heading toward another high? That nervous tick sometimes was a sign. But it had only been a week since I’d come down from the last one.
Almost everyone I followed on Instagram were involved in theater, along with a few old school friends.
While my account was public, I mostly used it to collect photos of different atmospheres and lighting setups.
My last post was from the bachelor party—a photo taken at the blue-lit station near the animal hospital.
As I absentmindedly scrolled through my feed, a post from Alex suddenly appeared. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. He had filmed Dominic’s Hamlet performance at the Piadina Bar. I’d been so mesmerized by Dominic that I hadn’t even noticed Alex filming.
The video already had hundreds of likes, and the caption read: Hamlet at the Piadina Bar. Thanks @domiper8 for this amazing performance.
I hadn’t known that Dominic was on Instagram. As much as I hated Alex for having his account before me, I equally appreciated him for sharing it with all of us.
I wasn’t a stalker, but at that moment, I sure felt like one.
Dominic’s account was also public and had nearly five thousand followers. Most of the posts were photos or videos from the theater, but there were others too, like a picture from last Saturday during his shift at Red.
Hmm … So, this is what it looks like in the staff locker room.
I kept scrolling through his feed and reading the captions. He didn’t post often; sometimes there were two-week gaps between posts. Still, he kept a certain consistency. But when I saw the date of a post from early March jump to June of the previous year, I wondered what had happened there.
“What’s going on?” Yael slid back into her seat at the table.
I went back to the video Alex had posted and slid my phone over to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, taking it to examine the clip.
“That’s him. Dominic.”
Yael watched the video and was just as captivated as everyone else had been at the Piadina Bar.
“Wow,” she said, handing me the phone back. “He’s good. And cute. He has this teddy bear vibe.”
I sighed. “Tell me about it.”
Yael grinned. “Talk to him. That’s how you’ll get closer.”
I kept the part about wanting to lock him in my basement to myself.
Since I’d said goodbye to him last Friday, I couldn’t relax. I kept replaying the moment when he’d looked at me with profound sadness.
Why?
He liked the kiss.
What in the world had made him so sad?
Nervously, I cracked my fingers one by one. The muscles in my bouncing leg were starting to ache, and I could feel them heating up.
Yael tossed her brown hair over her shoulder and retrieved her wallet out of her black handbag. “It’s on me,” she said, waving at the waiter.
“You don’t have to.”
“But I want to.”
“Thanks.”
While she paid, I felt my pulse speeding up. I frantically ran both hands through my hair and took a deep breath. It was a good thing we were leaving. I needed to get out of here. I needed to move or do something. Yael noticed I was fidgeting with my fingers, moving both hands back and forth.
As she slipped the credit card back into her wallet, she quietly asked, “Are you still taking the pills?”
“Pfft …” I laughed dismissively. “Haven’t taken them in a while.”
“What? I thought they were helping.”
“I can’t think when I take them. I feel like a zombie.”
“Maybe the dosage isn’t right anymore. A doctor could probably help. When was the last time you had a check-up?”
I stood up from the table. “I’m fine.”
“Are you working next Monday?”
“No, why?”
“I’ll tell Ma that we’re coming over for dinner.”
“Fine by me,” I said, walking ahead.
Outside, on the street, she raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“What?” I asked.
“Write it down, or you’ll forget.”
“Yes, boss.” I rolled my eyes but pulled out my phone and reserved Monday evening for my parents.
“And what are you doing today? It’s your day off, right?”
“I’m going for a ride on my motorcycle.”
“Be careful.. You know how I feel about it.”
“I’m always careful.”
“You’ve already had to give up your license twice,” she reminded me.
“Not because I couldn’t control it.”
“Yeah, right! One of these days, you’ll end up in a ditch!”
I took a step back and gestured with both hands to stop her. “Please, we’ve already been through this. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Yael shook her head in disbelief. “Fine. Still, have a good day, little brother.”
“You too. Do you have the day off?”
“No, orchestra rehearsal. So, bye! Love you.”
We said our goodbyes with a hug, and Yael took off when she saw the tram approaching. Before she got on, she waved at me one last time.
My motorcycle was just around the corner, and I could hardly wait to get on it and ride out of the city.
I’d always been a biker. When I was fifteen, I hopped on my souped-up moped and just took off.
Once, I’d been so wired that I drove through Switzerland in a trance, only snapping out of it when I reached Estavayer-le-Lac. I’d crossed the whole country without realizing it—I must have even been in a daze when I filled up the tank.
Unable to drive back because the high had worn off, I waited by the lake with no money until my dad came to pick me up. My stomach was growling, and I was completely dehydrated, so we went to get something to eat first.
It was one of my favorite memories because I enjoyed that time with my dad. But unfortunately, it was also the incident that led my parents to put me on prescribed medication.
I rode out of the city, heading south, and once I hit the highway, I let the bike roar as I sped down the asphalt like I was breaking the sound barrier. Immersed in the engine’s growl, I drowned out the chaos in my mind, pushing the inner monster back down.
It was my way of finding peace. Everything around me seemed to dissolve into thin air, and all I could feel was the hum vibrating through my body. That rush brought a sense of freedom I couldn’t find anywhere else.