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They tried to put him on the cover of Vogue but his legs were toooooo long

      “Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.”

May 9th, 2019

Greensville, North Carolina

                                                                                                        Infinity is twenty-four.

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                                                   chronologically after this

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Keep walking, Infinity.

It was almost as though the devil himself was after him. He supposed it was close. What in the hell was he thinking?

As he realised he’d wandered further than he’d meant to—almost to the town’s border now..he found himself come to a gradual stop. How on earth had he gotten this far? How had he walked all this way and not been aware of it? How had his heart locked itself behind so many layers of steel that having this card in his pocket felt like an anchor dragging him down to sea?

The card..

He pulled it from his pocket, the envelope crumpled now. Still, his name rang true on the front “Fin.” His brother had, in his life called him by a variety of names, but Fin has been the one he’d chosen for himself. Infinity was a pretty awful name—Infinity Fox even worse..but Fin.. that was okay. When he told people he was called ‘Fin’ they never assumed it was with one ‘N’. That would make it obvious it was short for something. No. Fin worked the best..but even that had been a transition for his family and his mother had never gotten onboard with that particularly. She to that day still stubbornly called him by his full name, and paired that with his middle name when she was pissed. Guess he had to have gotten that particular genetic gift from somewhere.

That’s not where you got it from..

He really hated that stupid voice in his head.

It was true though. It would probably be difficult for Greensvillians who had only known them since the end of January to see, but to his mother, to (he begrudgingly supposed) their asshole of a sperm donor, to everyone they’d known all their lives back in Florida, many of the middle Waters child’s characteristics could be traced back to his brother. To the man who had raised him when he’d been a child himself. To the child who had changed his diapers, the boy who would sit by his crib, stubborn as an ox until his brother fell asleep and held his hands as he mastered walking. To the preteen who got him ready for school every morning when he had whined and cried that he wanted to stay in bed. The boy who, when he should have been just on the cusp of becoming a high schooler was failing classes so he could catch up on what he needed to to make sure Fin’s education was uninterrupted. To the teenager who had lost himself in the toxic mix of trying to do his best to keep his brother safe, while having nothing really in his reach to help. Who moved from stealing lucky charms and cold medicine to cars just so he could add some money to his family’s pot.

Every part of Fin that he allowed people to see: his stubbornness, his sarcasm, his wit, his quick thinking, his ease in adapting, his capacity to be a rude asshole..they were all Indie. He had seen the ugly side of his brother and emulated it..but then there was the other side too.

His care for people, his unwavering generosity, his carnal need to protect the ones he loved furiously, and his sweet heart..they’d all come from his brother too—albeit probably with a little of his mother too. Many of the things Fin caught himself doing were just variations of things his brother had done years before. All those nights where he’d stayed up to talk to Abbie when she’d been having a hard time coping with her own demons when it was his only day off ‘work’ when he could actually sleep through the night… Indie, staying diligently at his side when he got chickenpox and catching them himself. Staying at the foot of her bed all night with a baseball bat on nights she couldn’t sleep for fear of things that went bump in the night…Indie, pulling back his covers when Fin was a child and grumbling that they weren’t called ‘bad dreams’ that they were ‘nightmares’ but letting his wriggly, cold feet ridden sibling cuddle up next to him anyway. His surprise at himself when Ocean had gotten sick that time and his instinct (once Indiana had arrived) was to take care of him, to protect him..him limp in Indie’s arms as the eldest Waters ran as fast as his legs would carry him the fifteen blocks to the hospital after he was attacked by a dog..the remorse he felt for things he had done…

No. Don’t go there, Fin.

Everything in him wanted to turn around and go back..he’d be..he’d have left the park by then..surely.. he wouldn’t be waiting in case his brother came back…he..

Stop. Go back.

He was trying. Every part of him wanted to be able to let it go but something in him flashed red like a stop sign made out of neon lights. No. Not a stop sign. A sign that flashed one word.

…remember.

……remember.

……..REMEMBER.

If he could’ve, he’d have screamed in frustration. Let out a load of expletives and cursed the world that had done this to him. But he had to take responsibility for his own shit. And he knew some of it was his fault. Most of it, actually. This rage monster he’d been raising all these years was the culprit. His own anger, his own pain, his own disgust at himself for letting it go on for so long. It felt like his swan song.

Would they ever get back? At this point he wasn’t sure. It had been so long since the two brothers had shared a genuine moment of kindness, and the one they’d just encountered had knocked him back onto his ass.

You hate him.

No, I don’t..

He could no more hate Indie than he could sprout wings and fly (a super power he had long wished for coincidentally). Hating his brother would be hating a part of himself.  He had been born to be his mother’s son, and he had been born to be Indie’s brother. Of that, he was certain. But then how could he let things go this far?

The day that Indiana tried to convince Fin that he had slept with his girlfriend, Fin at first had laughed him off. Confident at first, but that laughter began to falter. He really was persistent. The more times he had to tell Fin, the less patient his tone was. Something more angry had grown. Frustration perhaps. He had, after all been trying to convince him since the relationship had first began that she was unfaithful-

You’re justifying what he did?

No!

He couldn’t. He could never. He knew there would always be a part of him, no matter what the future held that would always never really understand what possessed his brother to do it. He must’ve known. He had to have known. Fin’s body shook. The unwelcome image—the one he’d been faced with when his brother told him in egregious detail of the birth mark on the inside of Ashley’s inner thigh. The birth mark nobody but him should’ve seen. The image of his girlfriend and his brother-

   No.

When had it gotten cold? His body shivered as though there was a chill in the night, but as he looked up the sky was clear. It was the spring, heading into the summer. The days were getting longer and although the sun was beginning to set, it was still light-ish outside. Another year of birthdays done, and he still hadn’t opened his card.

 Fin.

His brother had underlined his name. If he thought hard enough he’d remember past birthdays. Cards every year filled with the sentiment of the season. This year he’d gotten less of course, but that was what he wanted. He hadn’t bothered telling Abbie about his growing another year older. It wasn’t of importance. He’d gotten cards from his mother and from Ocean along with a small few presents; with Bonita promising that at the weekend they’d have a special dinner complete with a cake. She’d had a long shift today while Ocean went to before and after school club. It was a set up he and his older brother had dealt with plenty in their own youth, and he knew it well.

Stop stalling.

His finger slipped underneath the envelope’s lip and he ripped along the seam. He didn’t pay the front of the card much mind, instead pulling out the card. The envelope still felt heavy, but he supposed he’s get to that later. Maybe it was picture of Indie flipping him the bird.  

                                                   Dear Finny,

                                               Happy birthday.

                                                 Love, Indie.

His hands were shaking..when did his hands start shaking? He hadn’t been aware of it but it had to have begun sometime he supposed. Those words..that nickname.

                 Finny. 

How long had it been since he’d been called that? Bonita never had, Ocean he figured probably didn’t know, and Jaxon..well, the less said about him the better.

Finny had been Indie exclusive. A name he’d been given while he was still an infant, when Indie had been unable to pronounce ‘Infinity’ which, he supposed was fair enough.

FinnyFinnyFinny..

How many times had he been called that in his life? He wouldn’t be able to count if he tried. Thousands, perhaps. Even once he grew old enough to have full command of the English language, Indiana had still regularly reverted to calling his baby brother Finny. It was a term of endearment. It was his name. A secret thing that was just for them. He had always loved that name. He still did, even though he was far too big for it. Memories of it being called out to him, of it being half laughed as he held onto the merry-go-round and ran as fast as he could as Indie finally conceded and allowed him to do the pushing for once. Memories of it being used to scold him when he poured the last portion of lucky charms they had into the bathroom sink along with Jaxon’s shaving cream, water and a whole host of other things he shouldn’t have had access to…

“It’s okay, Finny. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

No. No, no, no.

“Indie, I’m so cold..”

No.

He was not going there.

He envelope felt as heavy as the lump in his throat. Clearing it as though it would make it go away, he put the card down on top of the trash can that was a few steps away, his phone atop of it to stop it flying away and turned the envelope over. Two green watch shaped objects fell into his hand, to his confusion. He dug in the envelope and pulled out the next sheet of paper, and immediately felt tears pool in his eyes.

That asshole.

Oh Indie..

Three passes to the happiest place on earth. The memories of Kissimmee, unwelcome as they had been in every other situation (that day was a memory he repressed with every fibre of his being)..suddenly engulfed him like a warm hug. He remembered. He’d kept his promise.

He was vaguely aware of tears coursing down his cheeks, the dam of emotion broken now as his eyes scanned the page over and over again. Words jumped out, words that he could read but held no meaning. Only one word has meaning and it was a name. The name of one of the two people he desperately wanted to go with him..but couldn’t. Not because of prior engagements…because of Fin’s own pigheadedness.

He wouldn’t want to go anyway.

His frustration got the better of him. Now conscious of the tears that were propelling themselves from him like lemmings, he turned and in his frustration, kicked the trash can as hard as he could with a frustrated yell of ‘Fuck!’ His phone and the card now safely back where they belonged, he placed his belongings on the bench where he collapsed into sitting, before leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. Body wracked with sobs, and in the sure and certain knowledge nobody would see him, be broke down in agonising tears, heart finally catching up to the torment it had been through in the last seven years.

Go talk to him..

I can’t.

Didn’t he get it? Why did he keep thinking that? Didn’t he already know the obvious? Indiana didn’t want to be around him for any longer than he needed to. Clearly he’d meant this as a gift really for Ocean. He must’ve figured Fin would take him, and perhaps he would. Indiana..for all that he denied it..he hated Fin.

He actually came close to how much Fin hated himself. He wasn’t quite there but damn if he wasn’t close.

No. He couldn’t go see him. He needed to go somewhere that he could just be. Lifting his head, he was blissfully unaware that his eyes were now bright red. He knew where he had to go. He rose to his feet and walked with purpose as fast as he could back the way he came. Back toward town. Back toward one specific house whose street he had been teasingly quizzed on more than once. What time was it? He hoped she was already done with dinner. The last thing he wanted was for her parents to hate him. To think he was rude. For her to think those things. He froze midway up the path. She..she wouldn’t think those things..right?

He shook himself. That was dumb. He knew himself. He knew his capacity for trust was low…but he trusted Abbie.

With that thought, he scrubbed at his eyes and nose with his sleeve and knocked on the door, card in his hand still. Then he waited.

                                                                            Remember.

                                                                                       Remember.

It all almost slipped right through my fingers last night, but it didn’t. It didn’t. We’re still together and we still love each other and I’m happier than I even knew was possible. It’s an enormous sense of piece, being surrounded by love and support. Being able to be a small part of this big support system feels so good. I still don’t know a lot about Hoseok, but we’ll get there. We have time. I hope we have the rest of our lives.

It sounds like it shouldn’t work. It sounds ridiculous. It sounds too big and too much, the five of us together . . . but it just works. It’s easy and passionate and I trust them. I trust them with me. I trust them with Namjoon. I trust them with the future.

We were stupid. We were stupid and thoughtless and took Chan for granted and hurt him last night. But we made it through and we won’t ever make that mistake again and we will always, always make it through. That’s what you do when you love someone.