#a03down

Langa’s heart had raced at the thought of a challenge— of attention towards his skills. Skating was fun, it was meaningful and worthwhile, but he also strived for approval. He missed impressing his dad. He missed sharing the slopes of a snowy mountain and showing off tricks at skii resorts. 

There was a void in his heart that had shadowed what used to be his pride in himself with doubt. He had loved the meaning in each trick he learned, the mentor his dad was in his snowboarding. Most of all, he missed his smile. 

Langa always had felt like he was meant for snowy hills. His goggles fogging and snowed over just paralleled his sight in fast moving situations. He didn’t need to see clearly in order to dodge an obstacle— he was better than that. He loved to soar above it and get some merit of clear sight. He would see the whirl of wind and the way color stood out in the white below.

There was something so private in the times he shared waiting to reach the top of mountains. His dad and him would take sips of water and the metal of the bottle always felt so cold to his lips, but the water was soothing to his throat. It was a unique contrast—feeling hot in layers of clothing despite being unable to feel parts of his face.

His nose would inevitably run at some point, especially as a kid. After every run, his dad would always check in on him, asking if he wanted to do the same mountain, a different path, or head to the places cafeteria for a break. He was eager, especially as a kid, but one of the most satisfying things about the day was sharing a warm meal or hot drink. 

“Yeah, I think I’m ready for some lunch.” 

His dad’s eyes had squinted as he smiled, bright teeth almost shining in Langa’s sight. 

“Can’t leave your hunger alone, huh? My growing boy.” Oliver ruffled Langa’s hair. Langa was taller than he used to be, reaching past his chin. He couldn’t wait until he was taller than him. 

Langa frowned slightly at the movement, blushing in embarrassment when his stomach let out a loud gurgle, as if to prove his father’s point. 

“It’s not my fault you gave me tall genes,” He muttered. 

Oliver clutched his stomach as he laughed. He patted Langa’s back before moving ahead slightly and stopping. 

“Never change, kiddo. Never change. Come on, I’ll be sure to get your favorite.”

He had a twinkle in his eye as he mentioned Langa’s absolute love of poutine. Langa had learned to love it ever since his dad first bought it and he’d never let it go since. Langa’s apetite was easy to appease. Which made poutine being common a benefit. 

Langa was quick to move towards his board after hearing that. He paused a moment after removing his goggles from his face, relishing in the lack of pressure on his face. He could tell there’d be an imprint on his skin from it, but he didn’t care when he felt cold wind on his sweaty skin. He knew if they stayed out too long it’d just be unpleasant, but he needed a moment to adjust to the light change. It was so bright. 

It was like looking at a whole other world. The surroundings were no longer tinted orange and now held much much more blue. Spending hours with the goggles on was like entering another reality. He shook his head to get the snow in his hair out, much like a dog. It was comical to see. 

Oliver just smiled at his son. He loved how ridiculous he could be. It was adorable.

“Need any help getting out?”Oliver asked, pointing to Langa’s feet on the board. 

Langa sighed, grumbling, “I’ve got it dad. I’m not a kid.”

Oliver huffed, chuckling. “You’ll always be my kid, kid.” 

They both placed their boards where they belonged, noting where they left them among the many boards and skiis other’s had placed on the racks. 

It was always clunky to walk in the shoes needed, but it was satisfying not to be stuck to the board. The shoes were heavier, clanking with each step. Langa was used to the snow due to the many years snow boarding, especially living in the cold of Canadian winters. However, going into the warm building quickly made him aware of his many layers of clothing. He grimaced, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them into the pockets of his pants. 

The absence of color outside stood out just as much as when they entered inside. The carpet was a muted, but multicolored red and orange. 

People crowded the sides, especially with the lines for the bathrooms. Of course, they were lucky in that it didn’t take long for the men’s line.

“Want the bathroom first, or should we take turns and have one of us wait in line for food?”

Langa was reminded then of how busy lunch hours could be at these places. He didn’t feel urgency in his need of the bathroom, more focused on getting his favorite food. He knew his dad was older and probably needed it more. 

It was as if his dad could read his thoughts. Oliver chuckled, unzipping a chest pocket and revealing his wallet. He handed Langa two twenties and winked.

 “I’ll come upstairs to keep our place in line. Just don’t wander off and if you buy stuff, meet me back by the stairs.” 

Langa took the money, examining the face on the bill. He always liked how shiny the stripe on dollar notes were. The queen of England stared back at him in all her old glory. He wondered for a moment just when it became custom to have people’s faces on money, but shook the thought off. He didn’t care about monarchy, he cared about food. That was what mattered.

When he arrived upstairs, he was surprised to see fake flowers in a plot. It felt unusual to see even fake plants after the many snow-covered pines. The flowers made him think of his mom and the last time his dad and her had their anniversary. 

‘They’re so sweet, but they’re also so so embarrassing,’ he thought to himself. They were sappy and sometimes awkward and overly anxious, but it was a love that was real. He only hoped he could have that one day. But, who was to say? 

He was only a teenager and despite the many people who admired him in his classes and daily life… he just didn’t really get it. Maybe he’d meet someone who did. Maybe he’d make a family without needing romance involved. For now, he was happy getting to share a meal with his dad and know that nothing of their routine would ever change.

That’s what he had thought. He never knew how easily things could be ripped away. How easily things could change their meaning. How easily lossand grief took hold. He missed his dad. So so much. He regretted his own embarrassment at his parent’s displays because he missed helping his mom or dad when they scrambled to impress the other. They weren’t perfect, but they were earnest and real. And he loved that. He did.

When they sat down to eat, maybe a half hour later, they had far too many napkins on the table and messy fingers. The cheese curds complimented the gravy and fries, a nostalgic taste as always. It was slightly cold and probably not all that fresh. It was cafeteria food, after all, but food after hours of a work out always gave satisfaction. 

Its subpar-ness was a part of the experience. 

Langa went to hand his dad the change, reaching into his pocket before freezing when his dad spoke out. 

“If you’re thinking of handing me the change while you’ve got gravy covered fingers, then you better think again, son.”

Langa blinked, looking down and noticing his greasy hands. He chuckled, almost rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. He reached forward, going for a napkin before realizing he only had piles of used ones.

“Here,” his dad said. Oliver handed him a new stack and watched as Langa wiped his hands off. “It can wait until after. You might get hungry again, anyhow.” 

Langa nodded, then thought about what they’d do with the rest of the hours of sunlight. “Which mountain should we go to next?”

His dad sipped his water, letting it held down the remains of the burger he had had. 

“How about the peak, very top?”

Langa smiled, excited at the challenge. “I’m ready if you are.”

“I know you are, son. You’re good and I’m proud of you for that. Just don’t forget to rest once and a while.”

Langa hummed, “Mhm”

It was an agreement, but he’d always been somewhat headstrong when his mind got set on something. 

Oliver sighed with a fond air, poking his nose to startle him.

“Just trust your gut.”

‘Just trust my gut.’ It echoed in his head. When Langa looked down, seeing what he had caught with his hands, his breath caught. It was like his mind had frozen into ice. Even if he was known as “snow,” this wasn’t the kind of thing he could weather, especially when he heard the masked man speaking on and on about some adam and eve fantasy. 

Flowers had never felt less romantic than this moment. He wanted to trust himself. He wanted to do something, but what was there to do? He was frozen. Eyes gazed at him from everywhere and he felt powerless. 

It was when he heard the challenge that something in him sparked. He didn’t care for the man’s words or even how he looked at him, not really. He didn’t care about much of anything any more, not until Reki entered his life. It had been so long since he felt like he could prove himself, like he felt he could become something new. He didn’t want these flowers. He didn’t want this man, but he could do something. 

“I accept your challenge to a beef,” Langa said. He’d reach the top. He’d see higher than this. He’d prove that Adam’s actions against Reki weren’t forgivable in the slightest. But something in him knew he was just pushing down the very thing that told him how this was wrong. That he should care about how this man looked at him. This monster. 

He’d be fine… right?

He should have remembered that when one went up high, the air got so thin that it got difficult to breathe. Winds that whipped so fast required protection and jumping off a cliff with no gear, no support, was an ending waiting to happen. 

He’d learn. For now, he was just a kid with goggles too fogged over to see the storm coming for him and just how painful the fall would be.