Lance describing Alex
“How did you do it?” I asked once after we stopped by the cubicles at the social media floor of CWP. He was talking to one of the staff who apparently was a big fan of his, yet he addressed the room like he was the master of a show. Everyone paused to listen to what he had to say, waiting for the perfect time to laugh, cry, or groan. Whatever reaction Alex needed. Like wildflowers, alluring the butterfly.
“I tried too hard,” he answered with a cheeky smile as we resumed walking.
“Why? Is this what you really want?”
“I want everything, Lance.” He was looking at me with heavy eyelids. “Everything.”
That’s the thing with Alex. He wants to do everything, see everything, become everything that people want him to be. When we’re waiting for our orders at a restaurant, he’s talking to the person at the next table, asking about their day. When we’re on the train, he’s taking pictures of buildings and sunsets as if he hasn’t seen them a hundred times before. I saw him enter the CWP building once, watched the corner of his eyes crinkle at something the guard said, heard his laugh from across the room as he made the receptionist blush. He hated being still, and he wanted to be everywhere, all at once. He wanted to mark every place, every crevice with his name. And I couldn't keep up.
I felt like it was all a show. And often I’d feel like he was still doing it - still trying too hard - so I’d meet him in his apartment room instead where he could take off all his heavy masks and all his heavy clothes. But before I knew it, I've become one of those wildflowers he bewitched. Alex was my taste of everything, and I wanted and hated it at the same time. I didn’t want to taint him with my ugly. He was that one butterfly that accidentally wandered into my room, and I wanted to keep the windows shut so he wouldn’t find his way out. Because I didn’t want to watch him go.
- THE SWITCH
