chronic optimist

It’s been a long time since you and Johnny had a chance to see each other, or even talk like civilized people. All of your recent interactions could be summarized in a small – but how entertaining! – collection of text messages, dating back to the day after *the accident*. Looking back at it, it was nothing serious, just a foolish, drunken debate, that made both of you go too far with heavy words. Again, nothing to write home about, just you two sharing the last drink of the night, recalling some silly memories from college days, when you two were… How exactly could one call it? You were definitely more than friends, a cluster of unspoken sentiments, heavy glances, a few after-party kisses. Just enough to make you two, almost ten years later, fight to death about the final questions. Why you two never worked it out? Who didn’t call? Who was the first to try to forget all about it? And there you were, supposed to cherish a quick moment of reunion due to his crew that just accidentally happened to film in your area. Who knew this would turn into a verbal wildfire, that none of you seemed too eager to put out?

Today, you woke up unusually late. Quick shower, quick breakfast, quick guilt trip about already wasting almost a half of your day. In the meantime, your phone screen started to glow with a notification. New text message, how convenient, sent from the man that only a few days ago wanted to forget about everything you shared together – even if it was just a young love fantasy, that none of you really wanted to let go. That specific kind of head rush, which can be caused only by something so idealized, because you two never had a chance to get bored with each other.

“can i take you out? i’m nearby and thinking about some things. i want to make it up to you. i promise ma’am, i’ll be more civil this time”

You sighed, letting your thoughts run wild, sprinkled with anxiety and confusion. Was this a good idea? Maybe it would be for the best if you two closed this unhinged chapter and just moved on with your respectable lives. Although, you said to yourself, what harm could it cause? Just one evening and everything will go back to the way it was before. You will both forgive and forget (ideally), him and his crew would leave the town, and you will finally get some well-deserved peace and quiet. 

“Only if you promise not to get sentimental.” – you could feel your palms shaking a little bit while pushing the send button. Maybe it wasn’t so casual after all?

“on my way”

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– Why have you brought us here? – you asked, looking with suspicion at an empty football pitch.

You tried to act all nonchalant, like you already forgot that back in the day it was your spot. Johnny used to sneak beers from his parent's house, you drank them like it was the olympian ambrosia, laughing, making unreal plans, while the evening glow showered everything in this nostalgic shade of blue. Until now, you had a chance to drink cooled martinis at the beach and cosmopolitans, carefully put together by your best friend, made to taste like a piece of heaven in a glass. Despite that, you were not able to forget this sweet aftertaste of flavored beers in a room temperature, shared with a man that you thought was your soulmate. Here he was, theatrically showing you the way to the empty bleachers, offering you an arm. He never lost his love for acting, even in the most foolish situations.

– And they say that chivalry is dead – you snarked playfully, accepting his offer after a moment of contemplation. 

– Never with me, ma’am – he replied, confidently walking to a pair of seats that already had a blanket put on them. – Yeah, I figured it might get cold in the evening.

– Oh, how thoughtful of you – you still did not want to drop the sarcastic act, not after everything that happened in the last few days. 

Johnny offered you a seat on the blanket-covered chair, a piece of weird luxury on an empty football pitch. Without saying a word, he took out two bottles of raspberry beer – how they could even fit in his pockets?

– A little something, treat it as an olive branch – his half-smile was *almost* remorseful.

– Olive branch? I’m afraid it’s gonna take a bit more than a bottle of beer – almost laughing, you took the bottle out of his hand nonetheless. 

– And yet you still decided to take it – Johnny noticed, his stupid smile becoming almost contagious.

– Jo, if I knew that it would give you such an ego boost, I’d turn down every drink on this planet.

How could you let that slip out of your mouth? Jo, his nickname that only you could use, just added to the tension that was building up between you two. So many memories running through your head like a messed up slideshow, fusing and merging, creating this emotionally loaded footage of everything that went wrong. Despite pushing off the thought, you couldn’t help but imagine… What if he never left the town? What if you had a second chance, a fresh start, what if… No, no, that ship has sailed a long time ago. The only thing you could do now is to sit down, enjoy the view, drink your beer and not get lost in his superstar smile.

– And I thought I was the sentimental one, bringing you here and all. But hey, Y/N, looks like I underestimated you!

– Leave it, Johnny. Don’t act like you didn’t hate me almost three days ago.

– Hate you? I could never! – Johnny noticed the side-eye that you gave him, making him finally get into a more serious tone. – Seriously, Y/N, I could never. And if I came off that way, then well… There’s nothing left for me but apologize. Sincerely. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m sorry for…

– Johnny, stop, you don’t have to. Listen, today we’re here, the next day you and your friends would get back to your Hollywood’s hall of fame, or wherever is your current residence. We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to get into this weird, pushed conversation just for the sake of politeness. 

A moment of awkward silence hovered above your heads. He didn’t turn his eyes off of you, like – despite everything being said between you – he was afraid of losing another moment of admiring how beautiful you were. You could feel his remorse, nostalgia and genuine need to make things better, even if it lasted just for this night.

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– Y/N, again… I never wanted to hurt you. I know how I feel and deep down I can only hope that maybe you feel this too. Yeah, yeah, I know, it didn’t work out then… And it doesn’t have to work out now. I’m fine with both, as long as I can hang out with you today.

This caught you a little bit off guard. You expected a little more bickering, some stuck-up arguments about misremembered words and unfinished affairs that could haunt you like first-class victorian ghosts. Instead, he gently took your bottle out of your hand and opened it with his chipped pink lighter.

– Impressive, I know – his sarcastic, almost self-aware remark cleared the air a little, while you still didn’t know how to respond.

After all of it, why can’t you just enjoy the night? Even if it won’t last forever, like you used to believe it will.

– Maybe for a college kid – you picked up the playful act, maybe going with the flow won’t hurt anyone?

– Oh, Y/N, so cruel again! You know what? Watch this.

Johnny took a mini CD player from his pocket. Just like the one you used to replay your collection of Fleetwood Mac’s music on. And just like that, the first notes of Seven Wonders started to flow out of the slightly screeching speaker. 

– I hope you still like it, because if not, then well, I don’t have any kind of plan b – he said, sipping his beer slowly.

– You still have this old thing? – you almost gasped, surprised and maybe even impressed. 

– Yeah, I guess it’s hard to get rid of something that… Hey, did you see that? 

– What?

– A shooting star! Quickly, make a wish – he nudged you, still following some distant constellations with his gaze.

– Ah, alright, alright. I wish for… - you started, but Johnny quickly interrupted you,

– You can’t tell me, otherwise it won’t come true! Come on, Y/N, don’t you know the star-wishing rules? – his slight laughter lit up the atmosphere.

– If that’s the rule, then I wish for us to argue again, fight often, maybe even never seeing each other again – you let yourself get your guard down a little. It’s still a joke, right?

– Woah, that’s some great reverse psychology upon an astronomical body. You’ve got me here, miss Y/N.