So, this is my attempt at a short/not-so-short story. It's still in the works. I've been struggling with it for almost three years now, adding on, taking away, writing it as it comes, basically. I had meant to order it chronologically in the story...but I decided I liked it better the way it was. I'm going to post it chapter at a time for you guys, and I hope you enjoy (and can give some feedback, yeah?)

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Part One: Keith

He found himself sitting and wondering that night, staring pensively at nothing, yet somehow seeing everything. The breeze carried his cigarette’s dying wisps this way and that, the same way they carried his thoughts. He didn’t know what to think. As always the night was still young, the bed still foreign and uninviting. A sigh. A slow gaze across the darkened room. A flicker of his lighter and another cigarette.

“I need a drink” he said aloud, as if challenging the shadows to retort. Of course, he did nothing. He didn’t move from his chair, or talk to the darkness anymore. A puff or two on his cigarette or a soft sight were the only signs that he was even alive.

Everyone, no matter how small they are, fills a small part of your heart. When they are gone…you feel it. This is precisely how he felt as he stared off into the infinite vastness of his room. Searching. That was the word. He was searching for something to fill that new void.

When you work in a restaurant, you have regulars. When a regular fails to appear, you are confused. You might even wonder what happened to make them change. You are dissatisfied. You don’t know them well enough to call them a friend; you might not even know their name. But inside, you are sad that they were not there.

It was like that, but bigger.

This person had filled a large niche in his heart, so much so that it was painful to think that nothing could or would fill that space. He might’ve dared to say he loved them, if he hadn’t been so scared.

Maybe it was the cold hand of mortality, slapping him heavily on the chest that added to the separation. He hadn’t cried. Instead he had frozen. He was trying to break the ice now, but it was hard.

Was it selfish? To see someone die then think of how he would too? He needed another cigarette. Closing his eyes only brought back bad memories. Looking into the darkness only brought sad thoughts. It was easier to look into nothing, and it was a long way until morning.

Another lighter burst, another puff of smoke, another thought drifting off into the recesses of the night. Wisps were starting to hang around his head. He fanned his hand lightly, as if to chase the clouds of smoke and thought away.

“Darren, Darren, Darren,” he muttered to himself, “Why are you still awake?” Puff. “Because I can’t sleep.” Sigh. “But you want to sleep. Why can’t you let yourself sleep?” Puff. “You won’t let me. You keep making me think about it” Puff. “You’re prodding at the unknown, Darren, you shouldn’t” Puff. Puff. “Ah…but you can’t stop can you? I understand.” Another puff. “I want to.” Puff. “You just need someone…don’t you?” Another wisp of smoke. “…yeah…and there’s no one”

It was true. He didn’t have anyone anymore.

He felt alone…even with himself.

He put out his cigarette. “I miss you already…"

---

He had cried at the funeral. He never cried.

There were so many things he still couldn’t believe about the past week. His friend had died. He had cried. He still couldn’t believe it.

Everything about it was so unreal…as if he were walking some terrible daydream from which he could not shake himself free from. This was brought on by the painstaking absence, and the false sense of cheeriness the “other” friends had put on. “Nah, he would’ve wanted it that way” they’d say, slapping someone on the back. “He would’ve wanted us to live on and be happy, because he was a good guy”

He was a good guy. He wasn’t a good guy anymore to them. He was simply a past tense term now. History. Darren had lay there on the floor, the evening after the funeral. He had stared at the sunset through the window, thinking about this. His fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the floor, to keep his thoughts going. The sunset was different from the floor, and that deeply disturbed him for some reason. He knew that these formerly shared sunsets were now lonely and made him focus his thoughts in unwanted realms. The past tense realms. Lifting his eyes to the slowly turning ceiling fan, Darren wondered. He is a good guy. He wants us to live on and be happy.

“Isn’t that just an attempt to cling to what you’ve lost?” Darren asked “He is in the past tense now. He was in the present tense. There is no changing it.” Tap. “I know…but I miss him” Tap. “It’s been a week. Life goes on, just like they said” Tap. “Still…I can’t change what I feel.” Tap. “You won’t change it. You don’t have to.” Tap. Tap. “But it will go away.” Tap. “Just like he did.” Tap “‘fraid so.” Tap. Silence.

He couldn’t take his mind off it. Off him. Even the sunset seemed strangely empty. His thought-beats had stopped for the moment as he turned to the sunset again. Back to the ceiling, and the tapping resumed. “You could…find someone else.” Tap. “He’s not a pet…you can’t just replace someone” Tap. “Correction: He wasn’t a pet. And you can replace someone…people do it all the time.” Tap. “I know.” Tap. “I know you know, seeing as you’re the one always replaced.” Darren sat up, crossing his arms and resting them on his knees. “You’re the one always replaced”

---

It was a horrible way to go. “Four Slaughtered in Armed Robbery”, said the headlines the next day. Darren couldn’t help but highlight certain parts in his mind. “…when Quentin realized that his attempt at robbery was botched, he opened fire on the customers. Two were found dead on the scene…” “…died later in the hospital…” “… “When Quentin heard the sirens, he just put his gun in his mouth and fired…” attested Store Manager Manesh Iskandar.” He had died in hospital, only moments after Darren had arrived at hospital. He had died going to get milk from the 7-11 down the road from his apartment. He had died in the emergency room, surrounded by people, yet still very alone.

Darren couldn’t imagine what must’ve been going through his head when the bullet found him. Sadness. Fear. Knowing him, most likely there was some considerable anger and regret. He would never know. All he knew was what he felt, when he sat there in the waiting room, and the nurse broke the news to him.

He hadn’t cried then, nor had he thrown himself into a fury. Only numbness came. Condolences and apologies were sincerely and dutifully lobbed at him, but they only bounced off as he walked out of the hospital to his car. It was only silence, and a sleepless night with himself after that.
Everything was still that morning. The sun was shining happily, but there was no wind on the hill.

“It’s so quiet.” Darren said to no one in particular. The small crowd around him muttered, nodding in soft assent. “…I know that he’s gone…because it’s truly quiet.” Darren had spent many a night alone with him. Even though they sometimes didn’t speak to each other, there was still the sense of sound between them. Sitting on opposing chairs, staring blankly at the other, smoking their cigarettes. There was always the sound of thought between them.

---

The morning of the funeral, there was no sound of thought. There was the sound of tears, the sound of weeping. The sound of parents crying, friends sniffling and acquaintances tipping their heads in respect…but they all seemed so far away. Darren was still alone, even in the vast sea of people in mourning.

“We are gathered here today…” “He was a fine, young man…” “…Enorma Patri, Filli et Spiritus Sanctus…amen.” Catholic funerals were always like that. Short and to the point. Their parents were catholic. Darren could never bring himself to call himself catholic. “You don’t have the right stuff” his Dad would say. “You may be baptized one, but it’s time for you to start acting like one.”

He could hear the choir singing “Just a closer walk with Thee”. Strangers were singing at the funeral, because he couldn’t bring himself to. It had been requested of him, and he wanted to…but something insisted that he didn’t. It wouldn’t have sounded the same. Not without him.

“A duet…” he had said “every song I sing is always a duet”

“Well” his father had said solemnly “You get your solo moment now.”

“…I…I don’t want it!” Darren didn’t remember why he had gotten angry. Maybe the unfamiliar had scared him.

Maybe he just didn’t want to sing alone.

I must say you captured the feeling of the moment rather well. Love your character very believable and just at the moment of a self relisation. Completely love that. I cant wait for the next bit, i leads right up i wanted to turn a page or something.

Section II: Fathers and Brothers

They’d shared an apartment. Now only Darren’s room was inhabited. The other room only had furniture and memories. A poster on the wall. Their picture together on the desk by the silent computer. A guitar in the corner. It had been unused before, and it certainly wasn’t going to be used anymore.

There had been no milk in a week. Darren hardly ever drank milk…or even used it. Now that he was alone…he felt no need for it. He had never done any cooking anyways. It was always frozen dinners or leftovers of order-ins, or leftovers from the previous day’s cooking. Now it was just frozen dinners, order-ins and its leftovers. Darren had been tired on the fourth day of that milk-less week, and didn’t want to trek over to the Seven Eleven to get some. They never got their milk, because when Darren went out that night, he came home alone.

Footsteps upstairs. The neighbor was restless. The smell of exotic cooking was coming from the hallways. For the first time in three days, Darren felt hungry. Running a hand through his hair, he stood up and went to the refrigerator to get himself some leftover pizza. He stopped at the wall, where a picture was posted. He knew all too well his own image, the dark brown hair, the lonely brown eyes, light skin, the white tee-shirt and worn jeans, the semi-smile. He could see that in the mirror any day he wanted to. But the other image…the blonde hair, collared shirt, sleeves rolled up, stylish jeans, lifeguard’s tan, big happy smile…that image he could only see in the picture now. This photograph had been taken only a month ago, when they had gone to a get-together at their mutual friend’s house. He placed a finger on his face on the photograph, then the other face.

“…you’re…I…I…” he balled his hand into a fist and hit the wall hard. He hadn’t felt angry in a long time, and here it was, just flowing freely from him. Darren sank to the floor, defeated. “…you’re…I…I…”

---

On the way to the funeral, his parents had argued. When Darren arrived at the cemetery, he had overheard them as he walked down the hill.

“How do you think Darren is taking this, huh?” Mom had demanded of Dad. “Darren was closer to him than anyone! They were inseparable.”

“I’m sure Darren is taking it like a man. He’s a good, strong boy. You know, the strong silent type. You see? Watch him” A pause as he felt his parents’ eyes on him. “hasn’t shed a tear.”

“He hasn’t said a word either”

“He’s upset, Mary. Of course he won’t speak a word”

“James…” Mom had turned to Dad “…aren’t you…aren’t you sad too?”

“Of course I am” Dad had grunted in faux manly way. His show was false; everyone knew it. Yet for some reason or another, he kept it up. Darren assumed it was because Dad thought himself as a pinnacle of strength, and a pillar of optimism to guide everyone through the dark times. Dad tended to think that of himself. Darren hated when his Dad did this.

Sometimes, Darren hated his father. Both of them.

---

4 am. The sun would rise soon. Darren thought about his family. He had two mothers, and two fathers. A few years after Darren and his brother were born, his mother had died in a car accident on the way home from the shopping complex. She had been buying their birthday presents. They were turning four. Darren’s father threw himself into a drinking frenzy. He lost his job and became a couch-dweller. In doing so, he managed to get himself declared inappropriate for child-care. Darren and his twin brother were taken in by friends of Mother’s family, the Thompsons. Mary and James Thompson didn’t have kids of their own and they gladly accepted (or so he had been told). They were no longer Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, but Dad and Mom. They had never told him the details as to how they got there, only that the boys had been given new parents as a gift from God almighty. They were swiftly baptized, much to their actual father’s dismay, and were given a good catholic upbringing. At age 7, Darren’s father had disappeared. The papers sucked up all the information they could, after he had been reported missing. The middle section of one Sunday paper read: “Martin Hobs missing.” No one seemed to care, though. Only Darren and his brother cared. It hit his brother harder than it did him. Darren would never understand why. He, on the one hand, had always been a loner by nature. His brother had been, and always would be a sociable, outgoing creature. The departure of both parents so early in his life had really hurt him.

As another wisp of smoke curled into the night, Darren turned his thoughts to his father. His father, not his Dad. He squinted his eyes, as if to see into the darkness and find some recluse. None came. No images, sounds, smells or anything of his father could be surfaced in all the dark muck of the room. Only words from Dad could tell him about his father. “Lazy” “Blasphemous” “Bum” “Bad” “Alcoholic”. Darren didn’t want to think about his father anymore. He didn’t want to think about his Dad either.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, either” he snapped at the nighttime air. “I’m through with fathers.” There came no reply. Satisfied at this, Darren slouched in the chair, lighting another cigarette.

“Those are bad for you” he could hear Mom saying.

“Those are bad for you” he could hear Cara saying

“Those things will give you cancer” Dad had said “You don’t want cancer, do you?” If it meant getting away from you…then yes.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” Darren put his free hand to his forehead as he took a long drag from his cigarette. “…I thought you wanted to go to sleep.” He closed his eyes. “I do…” “No you don’t. You’re scared of what you’ll dream of, aren’t you?” “He’s only been gone two days…and I haven’t slept both nights.” “You can’t dream without him here, can you?” Darren was surprised at himself. He could never recall being sympathetic to anyone, much less to himself. “I’m surprised at you, Darren.” He shook his head and leaned back in the chair. “Yeah…I’ve changed a lot.” A long pause ensued as Darren occupied himself taking in more of the relaxing fumes from his cigarette. “Ah…too bad they’re so bad for you” he forced himself to chuckle. It sounded false and hollow. The shadows agreed as they eerily echoed his artificial laugh. Their mimicry was mocking, almost demeaning. He stopped and stared challengingly at the night. Content to see that it had been subdued again, Darren relaxed in his chair again. “When was the last time you told him that you loved him?” Puff. “Probably…probably back in high school.” Puff. “Yeah. I bet you wished you’d said it again, two days ago, before he walked out this door.” Hot tears sprung into Darren’s eyes. “I see…I struck a painful chord…I’ll stop”. A few rolled down his cheeks, but he wiped them away swiftly, before rubbing his face to clear the rest away.

The cigarette smoke slowly died off, and with it, Darren’s thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, nothing came. He also had no more cigarettes. Sleep was swiftly closing in on him, and he fought furiously to stay awake, to think enough to satisfy him, as he and his roommate once done. As the cigarette butt fell to the floor, Darren found himself losing his struggle to stay awake

“…Keith…”

;-; CRYYYYYYYY!

I really love it. Please let me read more. Your character is very true to life, and your description is excellent. Just one major problem I saw, and it's not even much of a problem.

Sometimes you miss punctuation off the end of your sentences, right before the speech mark. If you can't think of anything else to go there, stick a comma in.

This is really good. ^_^ I like your style of writing.

Kamai, you're an excellent writer. I've always said that about you. This work is certainly no exception. Keep it up, this is brilliant! <3

Section III: Good Manners and Customs

He visited the grave a week after the funeral…once everyone stopped talking about how they knew Keith and how they suffered from his loss. Darren let the trend of Keith’s death fade before he actually went to the gravesite on his own. He knelt down in front of the marker and patted the ground.

“I felt…” he said with a half smile “I felt I should come on my own, you know?” he sighed and laid an ashtray on the grave. He lit a Turkish jade and a Turkish gold, and set the jade on the tray as he puffed the other. From his pack he produced a bottle of Absolut, Keith’s favorite drink. “Everyone’s been talking about you…even people I didn’t even knew you knew. ‘oh Keith…he was in my English class’ ‘Yeah…we played soccer together way back when…’. Everyone’s really sad, you know.” He opened the bottle of vodka and emptied its contents on the grave marker. “Your favorites, buddy: Absolut and Turkish Jade.” Darren sat down cross legged before the grave, reclining lightly. “I didn’t want to come when everyone else did, because it’d seem like a trend. People brought you flowers and stuff.” Lightly he set his backpack down next to him “But I remember you studied Religions, and really liked the way the Japanese would bring things to the graves. I don’t remember why they do it, or why you liked it so much, but I brought you cigarettes, and vodka, and even your favorite food.” He unwrapped a McDonalds chicken sandwich and set it next to the cigarette, then shoved a spoon in it. “I saw that in an anime. They had a bowl of ice cream, and he put a spoon in it…I figured I was supposed to do the same…hope you like it.” He smiled at the picture resting on top of the gravestone. Already he felt more at peace than he had in the past two weeks.

---

The morning after the funeral, Darren had cried again. He didn’t know what had drove him to it, either. He had simply awakened and gone to shower. Once he stepped out of his room, fully robed, he broke down into tears. The past week had felt like Keith had just gone on a vacation…and would come back soon. But a funeral was the end. It was a period. A full-stop. Things would change now, and he knew in his heart that they had to. He didn’t want to go to classes today. Darren wanted to stay at home, in his room, scratching out his thoughts non-stop.

But the other friends were right. Keith wouldn’t have wanted everything to stop just because he was gone. The dead know better than anyone that life has to go on. Darren was not dead, so he could go on.

He wished he was dead...

“Ah Darren…you’ve got to keep going.” He stood up and wiped clean his face and stepped out the door.
The sunset didn’t feel so empty after that trip to the gravesite. He’d make it a habit to go see Keith every so often, as friends are supposed to do. “I guess that way…it doesn’t really feel like he’s gone” he said to no one in particular again that night. “Makes me feel like he’s still with me…like old times.” He smiled and lifted his books to put back on the shelf “ah, yes Darren. Still clinging to old times, like always” He put another book on the shelf. “It’s not clinging anymore. I’m allowed to have memories, aren’t I?” Another book. “Yes…you’re allowed to have memories.”

---

“What’re you doing!?” a man yelled as he hurriedly waddled up to Darren by the grave.

“Paying my respects, sir” Darren stood up, putting out his cigarette on the ash-tray.

“You poured liquor all over the grave! You’re putting cigarettes everywhere! You’re littering with that McDonalds feces!” the man started to get angry. Darren didn’t know why.

“Keith liked cigarettes, and vodka, and McDonalds. I brought him some”

“How can he like it if he’s dead!?” The man was starting to irritate him.

“It’s the thought that counts.” Darren sat back down “It’s a Japanese custom.”

“You don’t look very Japanese to me”

“Keith said that he liked the idea of it. I thought I’d do it for him”

“My son would never want anything like that.” Darren looked up.

“Well then Mr. Hobs…”

“No, the name’s Strauss”

“Then you’re not Keith’s father.” Darren eyed him coolly. “Keith’s last name is Hobs.”

“…I used to go by the name Martin Hobs.” The chubby man stomped his chubby leg on the ground. “Goddammit man, this is my son’s grave you’re defiling”

“Well then Mr. Strauss, I’m sorry to hear that.” Darren stood back up. “But it was my brother’s life you ruined.” He gathered his things and hefted his pack onto his shoulder “I think I know my brother better than you know your son. Goodbye Dad”

“…wait…D…Darren?”

“Oh…I didn’t want to sing at Keith’s funeral.” He turned and faced the grave, then started to sing “Paint it Black”. It had been Keith’s favorite song.

“…you’re…you’re defiling everything about him!” Chubby Mr. Strauss stomped his chubby foot again. “I’m going to call the police!” Darren only sang louder. A crowd started to gather, mourners and church workers alike.

He was later forcefully escorted from the cemetery by some of the church’s officials. Outside of Darren’s visits, (They were sporadic and unpredictable. Darren had not wanted it to become a chore) that was the last memory the brothers ever shared. They had sung together once more.

Kamai, there is no way to express the awesome you contain. It simply exists.

Really great. ;-; Poor guy.

Loving this! :) You've got a lot of talent.

O M G awwwwwwwsssoooooome!!! Like that guy should have any say anyways. He abviously didnt take time to know him well enough in life.

Grrrrrr i think the whole parenting thing is just one messed up disaster after another and should be avoided. (the "parents" gaurdian or otherwise should be avoided)

Thanks for your kind words everyone! ^_^ It really means a lot. So without further ado, I'll put up the next segment.

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Section 4: Cara

Cara had been unwelcome into Darren’s life. He felt that she tied him to the Thompsons When she appeared in his world, he utterly rejected her.

“Mom and Dad don’t love us” Darren had told Keith “They brought Cara home so they could replace us”. Darren blamed himself for her sickly first years. She had been a very ill child, even from birth. From the day they met until her second Birthday, Darren had sent nothing but hatred her way. When she turned two, Darren finally came to realize that Cara Thompson, no matter what his beliefs or their actual relationship, was his sister. He grew to love her. She had been a scraggly little girl, dirty blonde hair with big, round, pale blue eyes.
“She has such blue eyes” Dad always said “everyone in my family has brown eyes…and I don’t think anyone in your family has blue eyes either.” Mom would always slightly look away, until Keith would pipe up about how genetics would sometimes skip generations. Dad would always then forget and laud over Keith with praises over his smartness. Cara was not related to him by blood. Cara was not related to Dad by blood either. It was this that allowed Darren to grow close to Cara.

---

Mom had found out that she was pregnant a month after Darren and Keith entered Middle School. Congratulations were sent, parties were being thrown in her honor. Darren could not understand it. He and his brother were dragged from place to place as if to worship the arrival of a new family member. Darren hated the idea from the very start.

“A miracle is underway, boys” Dad constantly reminded them. “Your mother and I have created something beautiful” Mom would always hold her belly and nod in silent assent, a big smile on her face. No one could see through her smile, because it was so big.

Darren learned soon, that it was because she didn’t want anyone to see.

---

“You knew all along, and you didn’t tell anyone” Puff. “Yeah…I figured it out really early.” It was another late night, a month after the funeral. Darren sat in his chair, unfurling more thoughts with his cigarette smoke. Something had been troubling his mind again. In the dim light, he held pictures of Cara and Keith. “When Keith was young…and when Cara was young…they looked very similar” Puff. “They were nothing alike though.” Darren laughed lightly, a smile ghosting his face “Keith was noisy and a crybaby.” Puff “Yes…a crybaby…and Cara was…she was a quiet little girl” Puff “You were a crybaby too” A smirk slowly turned into a lazy smile filled with nostalgia “Yeah…”

Silence.

“Why didn’t you tell Dad?” Darren leaned back in his chair, exhaling the calming smoke up into the night air. “I couldn’t.” Puff. “I’m sure you could’ve.” Sigh. “You know as well as I do that I just don’t have the heart for that sort of thing”

---

“You shouldn’t smoke boys, it’s bad for you” Keith and Darren were seated across from Mom and Dad. “You’ll get cancer”

“It’s against the law, anyways” Dad crossed his arms and huffed.

“Dad, we’re 18.” Keith said “It’s legal”

“You boys have been smoking for two years.” Dad pounded his fist on the table. “You think we didn’t know?”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?” Darren did not look up from his edge of the table.

“…we thought you boys could learn on your own” Dad huffed.

“All those anti-smoking programs in school…the lectures and videos. You never watched them?” Mom said, looking disappointed

“We watched them” Keith said defensively

“So you felt you had to smoke those stupid things to feel popular, huh Keith?” Keith almost reeled back in alarm from his Dad’s response. They know so little, Darren thought to himself. He looked up at his Dad in his brother’s defense

“You honestly think that we’d smoke just to feel popular, Dad?” Darren leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he calmly continued, “You’re supposed to be our father and yet you don’t know the first thing about us?” a grunt ensued from his Dad

“How…how dare you talk to me that way” It was laughable, thought Darren, that his father could not answer the question.

“You go around telling everyone that you’re our father.” Darren said “You’re so proud of your two boys. Keith the swim team star, Darren the tennis champ, Keith and Darren the singers. What about Keith and Darren your sons. Do you know the first thing about them?”

“Darren!” Mom stood up “How dare you talk to your father like that!” How funny it was, thought Darren, that they could not answer his question.

“Excuse us” Darren and Keith stood and turned to leave.

“Darren and Keith Thompson, you do not turn your back on your parents” Dad rose in a huff. His cheeks flushed red as he pounded his fist on the table “We put a lot of hard work into raising you”

“Darren and Keith Hobs are going to their room” Keith didn’t even bother to look back over his shoulder. “C’mon Darren”. Darren didn’t know why he was so upset at his father at that point. All he knew is that he desperately wanted to let his father know the secret about Cara…and he didn’t even know why.

“I’m sure we’ll appreciate it when we’re older.” Darren said coldly as he left. Mom and Dad had sat down speechless, both of them on the verge of tears.

“Mom?” Cara peeked out from around the corner.

“Cara, it’s late” Mom said wearily “you should be in bed”

“Mom, why are you crying?”

“Mama’s very sad.”

“Don’t be.” With that, she left.

Kawaii! <3

This is really good. I like stories where nothing happens at all. :

Segment 5: It's Bad for You

Darren could never understand Cara. Where Darren had not wanted to sing at Keith’s funeral, Cara did not wish to attend at all.

“Why didn’t you want to come?” Darren asked her. 9 year old Cara started to cry.

“If I had gone, that would’ve meant that Keith is really gone” tears sprung to her eyes “If I had went, I would’ve cried. When they buried him, I would’ve cried harder. Then he would’ve cried because I was crying. Then you would’ve cried because he was crying. Everyone would’ve cried.” Darren had cried at the funeral.

“I cried anyways” Darren admitted

“That means Keith was crying too”, Cara clenched her fists “You made him cry!” She beat at Darren’s chest and arms with her thin hands “Why did you make him cry!?” Darren couldn’t remember a time when she had been more hysterical. Of everyone he knew, Cara was the most reserved. “You made him cry!”

---

“Cara…Darren and Keith always brought home friends to play with, or went to their friends’ houses” Mom had sat down next to her and Darren when they were watching TV one day. “Don’t you have friends at school?”

“No” Mom had been shocked at the simple reply.

“Honey, every girl needs friends. You’re almost six years old and you haven’t got any friends”

“I don’t want any.”

“Now, now, dear. That’s not the way to think. You should have lots of friends”

“That’s right dear” Dad had overheard. Things were going to get complicated now. “You need good friends who’ll make sure you do the right things.”

“I don’t want any”

“Do you mean to tell me you don’t want to do the right things, Cara?” And there it went. Dad was making stupid conclusions again.

“I have Darren and Keith” Mom gave a sideways glance at Darren

“Darren and Keith don’t always do the right thing.” She said patiently as she put a hand on Cara’s. “Honey, maybe you need friends your own age. Aren’t Keith and Darren too old for you?”

“They’re three times your age, Cara” Dad grunted, folding his arms “Besides, you need someone to play dollies with.”

“I hate dollies” Cara said flatly

“Pony…school…house.” Mom listed a few ideas while Darren laughed silently to himself.

“Those games involve other girls.” Cara kept her eyes fixated on the television “Other girls are stupid. That means those games are stupid.” Mom and Dad were absolutely nonplussed. Darren laughed.

---

“Sleepless again” Darren sighed to himself, the smoke from his cigarette rising back into the air. 3:03 am. The clock blinked at him. “Can’t stop thinking about Cara” Puff “She really is unlike anyone else I met. I mean…she’s so different.” Sigh “well…of course she was different.” He thought for a moment of her always serious face, and her pale blue eyes always seemingly indifferent. “She never did get along with Mom and Dad” Darren put down his cigarette “I can’t believe she went and looked for her father.” Darren found that he couldn’t converse with himself very well anymore. He felt almost awkward with himself now. For awhile, he had talked to himself to make sure he still felt like Keith was there. He didn’t need to anymore, but he tried anyways. Something about it would not lend itself to his own powers of self-conversation anymore. Edging about his in chair, Darren sought a more comfortable position before returning to his thoughts.“You don’t need Keith anymore, eh Darren?” he muttered

“How Dare you say that” he could hear his parents’ voices.

“How dare you say that” He could hear Cara’s voice.

“I’m just kidding” Darren said, resting his head on his hand, resigning quickly.

---

“When your twin dies, it’s like you’re split in two” Cara had said almost emotionlessly one night.

“How can you say that, Cara?” Darren felt like she’d slapped him across his face. They’d been sitting on the porch of their house, sharing sodas.

“You can’t get over the fact that he’s gone can you?” she would not look him in the eye.

“I have.”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong.” Cara turned on him suddenly “He’s not gone. You shouldn’t just accept whatever’s happened. Keith is not gone.”

“Cara!” Darren closed his eyes, “I was there when Keith died. He’s gone!”

“He’s not!” Cara screamed at him “He’s not he’s not he’s not! He’s here! He’s here with us! Mom said that he’s not gone, and that he’s always here with all of us!” Darren smiled through his tears. Mom had said something meaningful.

“You know what?” He stopped suddenly, drained “Mom’s right.” Darren lit a cigarette on the porch “Keith’s here with us. But he’s only with you and me.”

Silence.

“You shouldn’t smoke. Mom says it’s bad for you” “Oh well.” There was more silence. “You can’t let Keith die.” Cara looked at her soda can “Promise?” “I promise”

“Swear on it” Cara is such a weird girl, Darren thought

“I swear” “On what?” her pale blue eyes descended on him “A vow is very special. You should swear on something important” “I swear on my own life, that I’ll never let him die”. “Good. I swear that too.” Darren held the cigarette out to her. She shook her head. “Mom says it’s bad for you.”

<3 I really love this. I doubt there's much to it other than this, but I like it anyways.

Segment 6: Sunflowers

One night, Darren had dinner with his family. There was no conversation. No small talk. Once the stony silence had firmly taken its grasp on the family, Dad looked up in resolute determination to break the stillness.

“How was school today, son?”

“Fine.” And there was no more conversation. Dad left wordlessly. Cara stared at her empty plate, then to Mom.

“Go on, dear” Mom handed her plate to Cara “take Mama’s dish, will you?”

“Okay.” Cara left with all the plates, leaving Darren and Mom at the table.

“So…I spoke with Alice Ripley at the mall today” she looked to her painting of Jesus on the dining room’s china cabinet cabinet, as if searching for inspiration.

“Oh?” Darren tried forcing himself to be cordial. No go. He resigned himself to being falsely conversational. “What’d she say?”

“She says you haven’t been showing up to the conditioning sessions. She’s scared you’ll get out of shape, what with your smoking and all…”

“I’ll go.”

“Okay…I just wanted to check up on my little boy.” Mom coughed and placed a hand over her heart. She would never understand as to why she started to cry. Cara said people cry when they feel a strong emotion. Darren and Cara understood why Mom cried that night, even if she didn’t.

“Mom?” Darren asked quietly “What’s wrong?”

“Dear, I know your father and I aren’t you real parents. We’ve tried very hard to raise you boys as our own, you know that.” She was struggling to find the words, Darren could sense that. “Your father…your father doesn’t actually have any children of his own…but I know he loves you all very, very much.”

“I know Mom.”

“It hurts us, you know…how stand-offish you all are to us.” She wiped some tears away “You treat us…treat us like we’re not your parents, like you hate us”

“Well…” Darren looked to the picture of Jesus. Jesus had a benign look on his face, one hand raised in blessing and a holy aura about his face. “I don’t hate you. Keith and I never hated you.” Mom looked up

“It’s so good to hear you…”

“We just never liked replacements” Darren continued “It was like you were replacing Mother and Father.” As it was with Cara, Darren had to admit that he loved his Mom, whether or not she was his real mother.

“Cara found her real father.” Mom clenched her handkerchief. “He came here.”

“I know, Mom. She told me” Jesus was still looking benign. Darren had never seen an angry Jesus.

“…but…”

“Cara said she knew that Dad wasn’t her real father.” Darren looked back to his Mom. He could see the same kindness that Jesus had in his Mom. “She just wanted to know. She didn’t know she’d upset Dad.”

“How did she find him?”

“Cara’s a weird girl” Darren sighed, looking back to Jesus. If there was such thing as an angry Jesus, it would be Dad. “She walked right up to a man in the park, and asked if he knew you. He said yes. She asked if he was her father. He said no. She told him that he was lying.”

“How does Cara know these things?” Mom’s tears were starting to well up again.

“I don’t know, Mom. Cara’s a weird girl.”

“…your father is very angry at me”

“So I gathered.” Darren smiled humorlessly. “Cara told me he punched a hole through the wall.”

“Yes…yes he did. He said he wanted to file for divorce.”

“Really?” This shocked Darren. His father was never one to take drastic measures. The angry Jesus in his mind grew twisted with rage.

“Cara stopped him.” Mom went on “she told him Catholics didn’t believe in divorce. She said that if he wanted to be a good catholic, he should forgive me and keep on loving me”

“…Cara said that?”

“Yes. Cara said that. Dad told her: “You’ve never given a feces about catholic teachings before” and told her that things were different in this situation. Cara went on to say that those are like laws that you can’t go around. Cara argued Dad into a corner.”

“So…weird little Cara saves your marriage, huh Mom?”

“Yes. Thank God.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Darren, I love your father dearly. That’s why I married him” Mom clenched her soggy handkerchief

“You love him so much that you’d screw another man?” Darren immediately wished he hadn’t said that. His mom broke into a fresh wave of sobs. He couldn’t stand seeing women cry, especially his mom. “I’m sorry I said that, Mom” he walked over and put an arm around her. “I’m sorry.”

---

The next day, he joined his family for dinner again, and brought his mother a bouquet of sunflowers and put them in a vase in the living room. It brightened his mother’s day to no end, and she was all cheers and sunshine as she went about preparing dinner. Darren was happy to see her almost back to normal after the past months’ episodes. He sat with Cara up in her room, watching her scratch out notes on her violin.

“I want to play, just like Yun” she said softly “I want to be better than him”

He saw Dad’s car pull up.

Minutes later, he heard a loud crash. He and Cara looked at each other and went to investigate. The flower vase was all over the floor, and Dad was furiously stomping on the sunflowers.

“You stupid whore!” he screamed “Now who’re you seeing!? Who in Christ’s name is sending you flowers! You whoring female dog in heat!” Mom was in a corner crying. He had hit her.

“You made Mom cry” Cara said softly from the stairs. “A Daddy should not make Mom cry.”

“Someone has been sending this prostitute flowers!” Dad shouted. Darren had figured Dad would snap sometime soon…but this had been unexpected.

“I brought Mom those flowers” Darren said just as softly as Cara. “I wanted her to feel better.” Dad realized that he had come to another of his stupid conclusions. He went to Mom, but she pushed away his hand and ran up to her room and slammed the door shut. They could hear the latch hurriedly slide into place.

“Well now you’ve gone and done it, Daddy” Cara turned her stare to him “Now Keith is crying too.”

“What’re…what’re you talking about?” Dad stopped dead in his tracks. Cara was glaring at him now. “And because Keith is crying, Darren is crying too.” Cara walked down the stairs and picked up the one remaining sunflower and put it back in the vase “They’re crying because they love Mom. They’re crying because you made Mom cry.” Suddenly, she stood up in a huff, tears streaming down her eyes too “You make everyone cry!” she screamed at him “You’re a bad man! I hate you!”

“Cara” Darren grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to him “Don’t say that. Say you’re sorry”

“No!” she screamed louder, turning to Darren she buried her face in the hem of his shirt “He’s making everyone cry! He’s making everyone cry! Keith’s crying, Darren! Keith’s crying! I know because you’re crying! You’ve been crying since the vase broke!”

Both Darren and Dad didn’t know what to do.

“C’mon Cara” Darren wiped his eyes, staring at Dad “Let’s go give Mom the last sunflower. Maybe that will make her stop crying.”

“Mom loves sunflowers” Cara nodded, sniffling “Let’s go make Mom happy.” She turned to Dad “Sunflowers makes Mom happy. When you kill sunflowers, you kill Mom”

OMG!!! it keeps getting better! do u just think of it?

Cara is weird.

But I love this story. <3 That 'Dad' is an blackhole.

I wrote this awhile ago, actually. I've just been editing it for almost three years now, and posting it in segments so that people will actually read it. I want to write more for it...but I can't seem to find any inspiration for it anymore. I was hoping you all could help once you've finished everything I've currently written for it.

Without further ado: Update.

---

Segment 7: Losing Its Meaning

Darren looked up at the ceiling fan dispersing his cigarette smoke as it hit. “I can’t imagine what drove Cara to say those things to Dad.” He was speaking again to no one in particular. He looked over at Keith’s bedroom, where Cara was asleep. Mom and Dad had gone on a Broken Couples retreat, to try to “re-forge their bond of trust.” It was total bullfeces, Darren had told them, but they wanted to at least give it a try. They’d left Cara with him for the weekend. He thought about how Cara had just sat there with him the night before. They stayed up until 5, just sitting there. The sound of thought had returned to the apartment, and Darren took comfort in it.

“If we’re quiet, we will hear Keith” Cara had told him. “But only if we’re very quiet.”

“Okay” Darren had said as he lit another cigarette. “After you’re done listening to Keith, you should go to bed”

“Okay. Then he’ll keep you company.”

“Of course.” Darren had smiled. “He always does.”

---

“Darren, there’s something I want you to know.” It had been the day before Mom and Dad left for their retreat. Dad had adopted a very serious tone. It was soft and unembellished. Darren finally saw the honesty he had been looking for in his father for so many years.

“I love your mother very much” he said slowly, “and I love my children very much. You and Keith and Cara…none of you are actually my kids…but I still treat you as if you were my own blood.” Darren looked at the man who he called “Dad”. All the anger and manliness had drained from him. He looked so defeated and weak. Darren knew that he had lost all his pride once he had found out that Cara wasn’t his. Furthermore, what little he had managed to restore, he’d ripped away during the fight with Mom. The past few months had drained his parents.

“I believe” his father continued “that this was just a test. Yes. This was truly a test from God.” It was shaking. Darren could see his father’s faith shaking before his very eyes. The foundation was crumbling.

“Yes Dad.” He tried to sound as confident and assuring as possible. It came out very false. His Dad saw this and his confidence fled.

“Darren. Take good care of Cara this weekend. We’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“You’ve had a rough time recently, haven’t you, Dad?” Darren asked as his father got into the car.

“Dear Lord yes.” Dad leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. “First Cara’s real father shows up. Then Keith dies. Then this.”

“I think you passed whatever test it was, Dad. We’re still here.” Darren nodded, patting the car “And we’ll be here when you get back.”

“Darren.” The solemn look returned along with the unornamented voice that unsettled Darren. “I’ve never failed anything in my life before, Darren. But when I let loose at your mother, I broke every principle I ever held. Everything I’ve taught you, everything I’ve ever done has lost its meaning, because I destroyed my own foundation. Darren, I’ve failed. I can’t fix that now.” He sighed and looked to Mom, who was seated next to him “I only hope I can repair this mess. And maybe keep it from ever happening again.”

“What you’ve taught me hasn’t lost its meaning, Dad” Darren wanted to smile, or to say something more comforting, but he couldn’t find it in him. He and Cara waved as the car pulled out of the parking lot, then turned to leave as the car rolled off.

---

“I never realized how angry both my father and Dad are.” Darren looked to the trees out in front of his apartment. “It’s funny, I think, that it’s the only thing they had in common.” He stopped for a moment and shifted in his chair on the balcony. He lit up another cigarette and took a long, soothing drag. “Martin Strauss, formerly known as Martin Hobs, is the manager at that fancy bar downtown. James Thompson is a guy who sits in an office and does paperwork and makes phone calls all day concerning the usage of the church.”

“And Bill Dobson is the co-owner of Burger Palace, down the road.” Cara slowly spun her soda can around.

“How did you know who he was?” Darren didn’t take his eyes off from the trees. The leaves were starting to turn colors and the wind was more playful than it had been during the summer.

“I went to the park with Mom. I was sitting under the big tree near the big slide. Mom had been trying to get me to go play with the other girls. Then she saw her church friends and went to talk to them. When she had been gone an hour, a young man came and knelt in front of me. He had pale blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair. I thought he looked a lot like me. He asked me if I was lost. I asked him his name. ‘Brett’ he said. And I knew it. I knew right away who he was. ‘Brett Dobson’ he said. He asked if I was okay, and I said yes, then I asked him to play with me. ‘What do you want to play?’ he asked. I told him I wanted to re-enact the holocaust. I would be German, and he would be Jewish and I would try to kill him.”

“Cara…why did you ask him that?” Darren was slightly taken aback at this.

“I was testing him.” Cara put down her soda can, tired of spinning it. “I wanted to see his reaction.”

“You’re so weird”

“He said okay. But only if when I caught him, I would put him in front of an execution squad and not into the gas chambers”

“…he sounds just as weird as you.”

“Exactly”

“But…you can’t just go off thinking you’re related to someone just because they think like you…” Darren flicked the butt of the cigarette with his thumb to knock off some ash.

“Yes you can.” She looked at him with her big pale eyes “I’m 9. I’m allowed to do that, because no one thinks anything of it.” Cara never ceased to amaze Darren. “In any case, I asked him to be my big brother. He agreed. I asked him to take me to his father. Then I saw Mr. Bill Dobson and I knew. I knew exactly who and what he was.”

“Was it a gut instinct?”

“Yes.”

“Those never lie, do they?”

“No. You know the rest.”

“Yeah. Cara, you’re so weird.”

“I’m weird?” Cara stared coolly at him “I’m not the one who’s upset because I can’t talk to myself anymore.”

---

“You know what else is funny” Cara had remarked out of the blue after Darren told her about his first trip to Keith’s grave, “You talked about how different your real Dad and Dad are, yet they’re both your Dad.”

“Yeah…why is that funny?” He asked

“You and Keith are both my brother. But you’re very different from each other too.”

“Yeah…that’s to be expected, we’re different people, right?” Darren stared at her. What was she getting at?

“So are your Dad and your Real Dad” she turned to him, resting her head on his shoulder “They’re allowed to be different people. In fact, it’s not funny at all.”

That last part made me chuckle.

Not laugh. Chuckle. There's a difference.

Segment 8:

Cara always said the strangest things. Darren had talked to Keith about it one night.

“Well…I don’t know why she says the things she says” Keith had leaned back in his chair, hefting his bare feet up onto the table “They’re only strange because we never take time to think about the things she says” “What do you mean?” he had asked “Well…it’s simple” Keith lit a cigarette “She says very obvious things. We just haven’t thought about those things before she says them.” Puff. “…to her, she’s probably saying the most normal things in the world” Puff. “And we’re idiots for overlooking this things” Puff “What is funny is that she’s not really a deep thinker like we always say she is” Puff “Well…She’s always lost in thought.” Puff. “But she says everything so simply” Puff “Because she’s thinking about simple things” Puff “You think maybe our way of thinking is clouded then?” Puff “That goes without saying. But we can’t change our way of thinking” Puff “You’re right.” Puff “Usually am” Puff

---

“What a typical Keith thing to say.” Darren grunted “Typical Keith.”

“Darren?” Cara jerked Darren out of his little thought world. Hearing her startled him out of his chair and he looked at her blankly.

“It’s 3 am Cara, you should be asleep”

“So should you.” she stated, then sat down in his chair. “I’ve been thinking”

“So have I” Darren had burned himself with his cigarette. It smarted a little bit.

“You and I have different Fathers. That should make us step-siblings. But we also have different Mothers. That makes us not-siblings. Are we still brother and sister?”

“Well…we have Mom, right?”

“Yes.”

“And we have Dad, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then doesn’t that make us brother and sister? It doesn’t matter, so long as Dad is Dad, and Mom is Mom, we’re brother and sister.”

“Good. I was worried about that.”

---

“Smile, Darren. C’mon. Please smile?” Darren watched himself stare blankly at his Dad. He watched Keith run across, striking poses.

“Look Dad! Look at me!” Yet the scene stayed focused on Darren.

“That’s nice Keith.” came the offstage, offhanded reply. “Darren, kiddo, can I get a smile, please?” More blank staring. His Dad’s voice came back, in a hushed whisper. “I think there’s something wrong with him, Mary.”

“Shhh. He’ll hear you darling.” He watched his mother walk over and squat down next to him. “Darren honey, won’t you smile, for Mommy?”

“I’m smiling, Mom! I’m smiling!” Keith wedged himself between Mom and Darren. “Look see! I smile the biggest!”

“Yes honey!” Mom was smiling happily too. “Look at that big beautiful smile on my big beautiful boy.”

“Why won’t you smile Darren?” his dad’s voice floated in again. “Why, whenever there was a camera or camcorder pointed your ol’ dad’s way, he’d give’em a big strong smile.”

“Why?” Keith looked puzzled at the camera. “Why Dad?”

“It shows you’re a strong person; that you’re not scared to smile, right?” Dad’s voice was full on manly grit behind it.

“Show Daddy you’re a big strong boy, Darren.” His mom nudged him.

“Why won’t you smile, like your Dad, huh?” Dad’s voice again.

“Because I’m not a whore for validation.” The scene lingered in an uncomfortable silence on the 10 year old Darren and Keith, with their mother next to them shocked beyond words. The screen flicked off, and Darren turned off the television. He had been a lot like Cara. But he had been a little more aggressive.

He was a weird person.

<3

Not much more to day at this point.

I think Cara is a great character... very well developed in the story. I like the way she thinks.

That is the most awsome thing ever. Such emotional honesty.

Segment 9: I Can't Answer

Two weeks after Mom and Dad returned, everything ended. Darren awoke in a start. He rubbed his eyes only to find that he’d been crying.

In his dream he had heard Cara screaming, for him, but it had been everywhere in his mind.

Without knowing why, Darren opened his window to see his Mom’s car pull out of the parking lot. He hadn’t stopped crying.

Opening the door into the hall, Darren found a small envelope. Inside, money for his rent and a note that read:

“Dearest Darren,

Your father and I are separating. He’s put the house for sale and is moving out. I’m taking Cara with me to go stay at my sister’s house in Tallahassee. I’m sorry it had to come to this, but we will send you money every month, I promise. Keep up in your studies, and try not to let this affect you. Best wishes to you, Darren.

XOXO,

Mom”

Darren slowly closed the door and sat back in his chair. He took out his pack of cigarettes and made to light it. But without knowing why, he stopped. His thoughtful eyes, still wet with tear, turned to Keith’s room.

“You’re such a crybaby, Keith” he said slowly as he put the pack down. “You shouldn’t make Keith sad, Cara…you shouldn’t make Cara cry, Mom.” He crumpled the letter and looked to his shelf where the sunflower had wilted. “You shouldn’t kill sunflowers, Dad.”

---

“I just wish, Darren, I just wish that…” Mom clutched the tissues tightly in her hand “I…I…” She was in hysterics; her strangled weeping wracked her uncontrollably. Cara held out the sunflower to Mom.

“Cara…Mommy can’t stand sunflowers anymore”

“…why Mommy?”

“Your father and your daddy both used to give me…used to give me sunflowers” she blew her nose before a fresh wave of sobs broke out. She looked so pitiful, sitting on an unmade bed, surrounded by used tissues. Her eyes had gone puffy and her nose was thick and red with snot. Darren could not help but pity her. She was beyond words; Cara’s innocent cruelty had completely destroyed her.

“I’ll keep the sunflower Mom. When I see it, I’ll think of you”

“…Tha..Thank you Dar…”

“I love you Mom”

---

The night they left, Darren felt sleepy for the first time since Keith’s funeral. And that was it. He didn’t understand why, but he no longer felt the need to sit awake and talk. He didn’t want to talk to anyone but Keith and Cara. He didn’t even want to talk to himself.

Darren got a job and worked after school. He started dating. He started eating normally.

In fact, he felt almost normal.

And no one, Darren included, knew why he began attending therapy.

Maybe he was keeping a promise to his Mom, his mother.

Maybe he was scared of what he was becoming.

Perhaps he wanted his family back.

Maybe he just didn’t want to feel alone.

Even Darren couldn’t answer this.

---

"What’s your name?” she was a young woman, bespectacled and sharply dressed. She was seated across from him with a pad and pen under her neatly fold hands in her lap.

“Darren Hobs”

“Why are you here?” She jotted something on her pad

“There are too many things I don’t understand”

“Like?” More jotting

“Like why I’m here.”

Not enough paragraphs. Otherwise, <33333

Part II: Lu Yun Xiao

Segment 10:

It was not wrong of Mr. Darby to go to his country club every night. He would find his way to the beautifully furnished bar stocked with all the finest wines, beers and liquors. Every night he watched his various sporting events and downed his Jim Bean and Coke, or Gin and Tonic.
He was by no means an especially nice person. He was also by no means a particularly attractive person. His fading hair was wiry and wild. His eyes were pale and bug-like, their ugliness magnified by his thick glasses. He would’ve been somewhat in shape had it not been for the magnificent ponch adorning his waist.

Yun spent many nights just watching Mr. Darby. As a waiter at the country club, Lu Yun Xiao knew many of the patrons very well. Yet, Mr. Darby and his peculiarities always struck him in such a weird way.

“It’s not fair” Yun had said to Jason, his co-worker. “People like Mr. Darby make exorbitant amounts of money, then come here and waste it. If I were rich, I’d spend my money in more…appropriate places…like charities and setting up food drives and stuff. Squandering so much money in one place only to get a passing high…it makes no sense to me.”

“Just think of it this way”, Jason had replied, “The more money he spends here, the more money folks like you and me make.”

“Yun, my boy.” He heard Mr. Darby call “Tell the cooks there’s not enough pepper on my halibut and too much in my pepper-cream sauce.” Mr. Darby’s reputation for being remarkably particular was not by any means a small one. A disgusted look passed between Yun and Jason before the young Asian man went to serve his perturbed patron.

---

Darren was crying, Yun was all teared up, but Jason only watched in stoic silence. Mr. and Mrs. Thomas were huddled with Mr. and Mrs. Grigsby and Mr. and Mrs. Rosenbaum. Mr. Darby was there too. In fact the whole country club was there. How dumb, Jason thought to himself, they’re just here to make an appearance. He was sure that Yun and Darren would agree.

---

Jason propped his elbows upon on the window ledge, watching the scenery idly dribble by. Dog. Tree. Old Woman. Dog. Small Tree. Small child. Small woman. Old dog. Old tree. Old Child…

Turning his attention back to his buddies, he hoped to keep himself mildly occupied by watching them. It was something Yun did; watch people. Keith and Darren were leaning on each other, snoring. Off to the other side of Keith, Big JD had his face pressed against the window. Tom, the young bartender, was in the seat in front of Keith and Darren, staring off into space. Beside him sat Yun. Yun had insisted on taking his violin with him. He was leaning against Tom, but he clutched his violin close to him. To his left, in the driver’s seat, sat Joey, who stared stoically ahead, focusing on the highway.

The Seven of them had decided to take a fishing trip at the bay.

“Rockfish are in season, boys!” JD had proclaimed at work. Subsequently, Yun, Jason, Tom, JD, Joey had taken off work, and asked Darren and Keith to join. It was to be a fun fishing trip and some time to hang out. 4 am the next day, the sleepy entourage appeared around Joey’s crusty old van. Cigarettes were whipped out. Beers were loaded up. Fishing gear, luggage, etc were all piled into the van. Then they set off bright and early to go on their fishing trip. All that awaited them was a beautiful bay, and a weekend off work to relax, to fish and to be with their good friends.

---

“Jason” Keith sat down at one of the tables in Jason’s section of the club’s restaurant. “How’s it goin’ buddy?”

“Same crap, different day” he replied as he poured water for his friend. “What can I get you today.”

“Coke” Keith was all smiles. “Where’s Yun?”

“He’s working the Rotunda. Why?”

“I got great news” he grinned “I got great news.” Jason went off to fetch the coke, puzzled as to what the good news was. When he returned, Yun had found his way over, and the two were locked in conversation.

“So what’s this great news, Keith?” he sat the drink down

“Okay” a Keith-styled dramatic pause ensued. “Ya ready?”

“What?” Jason and Yun leaned in. When Keith was excited, it was not easy to resist being sucked in.

“It’s Tuesday!” He laughed happily, clapping his hands once before taking a deep gulp of his coke.

“That’s your great news…?” Yun sounded disappointed.

“You came on like you’d gotten laid or something” Jason snorted. The two waiters patted Keith on the back “You’re so crazy” and they made their way back to the kitchen.

“He said, that on Friday”, Yun turned to Jason “we should get together and cook up the rest of the rockfish.” He leaned against the wall, tapping in an order on the computer. “I’ve already prepared my last fillet”

“How?”

“I marinated it in a thick, sweet soy sauce mixed with a little bit of Grey Poupon Mustard.”

“Ugh. That sounds disgusting”

“It’s really not though” The Asian waiter straightened up, a little insulted “A white Russian sounds and looks like you’re drinking jism, but it’s really quite good. My fish is really quite beautiful.”

Made no sense. The sudden introduction of multiple new characters didn't fit with how the story had been told before.

And, if Darren is reflecting on the past - I assume that's what he's doing, since Keith's alive - then it should be from Darren's point of view. If it's just a flashback of Yun, that should be more obvious.

If it's just you telling about something that happened a while ago, it should also be more obvious.

All in all, not my favourite chapter. You could've done much better.

Ah, I had written this in little segments, then just kept the order. It's not chronological at all, nor is this a flashback.

I have a hard time with transitions, and it's painfully evident here. Part I was entitled "Keith" and focused on Darren. Part II is entitled "Lu Yun Xiao" and is focused on Jason. There needs to be a go between chapter I suppose, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to do it.

^_^ By the Three parts, I think you can kinda tell the things I was going through, and how it affected my writing style based on the stories. I tried very hard to work on character voice and how different people see things, like how Darren and Jason are very different narrators...but I see now it didn't come across very strongly. Part II hasn't been rewritten like Part I has, so...please please more feedback.

Anywho, I'll keep posting.

---

Segment 11: It's really quite beautiful

Jason watched the other guys carefully. The boat was rocking nice and steady on the bay, and the cooler of fish was half full. Beer cans were all in a bag, as were their cigarette stubs. He turned his eyes to Yun, who sat staring pensively over the water. The other guys were laughing it up, occasionally checking their fishing rods, but Yun had retreated to a corner of the boat.

“Hey Yun! Toss me another beer!” Yun visibly jumped. Wordlessly, almost with a hint of embarrassment, he reached into the cooler and handed the beer to Keith. “Thanks buddy” Yun sat back down on the fish cooler, returning to his glazed stare.

“Hey Yun…” Jason called lightly. Again Yun started. “My God you’re jumpy today.” He sat down next to his friend “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh…the ocean.” He smiled. “Well…the bay. It’s really quite beautiful.”

---

“It’s really quite beautiful” Yun had said, standing on the terrace, overlooking the golf course. “everything is where it should be…there are natural elements: Trees, water and the various colors of grass. But their placement is unnatural…controlled. It’s the perfect harmony of the natural and the artificial.

Jason had no reply.

---

“It’s really quite beautiful” Yun had said, playing out Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata’s first movement. “See look…the pattern is simple. These are just broken triads and a melody above it and a strong bass driving it through. Yet it keeps shifting…always restless…always seeking tension, then seeking resolution…just like water…just like us.”

Jason had been absolutely nonplussed.

---

It’s really quite beautiful. Yun’s favorite phrase.

“Look at the waves!” he explained. “They’re like music! Always shifting and changing…and it’s hardly ever the same way twice. And look at us, on our little boat in the middle of the bay. I would love to be a painter on the shore, painting us against a midmorning sun!.”

“You…” Jason thought for a moment “You think a lot about this stuff, don’t you?” Jason had asked

“Whenever I can”

“Even now, when you should be hanging out and having fun with your friends?”

“Especially now. It’s not often I go on a boat. It’s almost every day I see you all. And besides” Yun smiled. “This is how I have fun”

“Yun!” Tom called over “Get out your violin, play us a song!” Yun jumped again. Grinning brightly, he took out his violin.

The piece he played, Jason would never forget.

---

“Jason, you got a 6-top” Four days after the return from the fishing weekend. Charlotte, the hostess, came bursting through the double-doors. “I just sat them down at table 22. Try to make it quick…we all wanna go home”

“You’ve gotta be fecesting me” Jason muttered under his breath. As he walked towards the door, he chanced a glance at the clock. 8:45pm. Fifteen minutes until the kitchen closed. Another hour until the last of the country clubbers left. Another 30 minutes of clean up. The night seemed…rather bleak.

He passed Yun, who was seated on a crate, elbows on the table, staring off into space. Without knowing why, Jason placed an arm around the boy’s back, and gave him a kiss on the top of the head.

Yun looked up, absolutely perplexed.

“What…what was that for?”

“You looked like you needed it” Jason remembered Yun looking so happy at the thought. He had looked so sad before, sitting there, staring off into the nothingness of the wall. It was…really quite beautiful.

---

That night, Jason lay there in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts and thoughts and thoughts kept creeping into his head. Thoughts, thoughts…thoughts. He looked to his desktop. Amidst the clutter of misplaced papers and thoughts…hold on. He’d never looked at it that way before. It was always just…a mess. A mismatched dimension for his life…his desk…his mess…his life jumbled about in files and papers…

What was going on? Life was…less simple…? On his desktop, just peeking above the clutter, picture frames. One of his family, one of him and some of his co-workers, some of his girlfriend.

His family looked so happy, staring at him from the photograph. His parents had given him that to take with him to college…and he took it back with him. He liked the picture. His mom, waving to the camera with her silly, toothy grin. His father, with his happy semi-smile. His sister, with her sleepy looking smile. He had always loved the picture…but now he knew why. His family was captured at their best…for him. The picture of his co-workers and him sitting out back smoking. The guys were leaning on crates or bags filled with dirty napkins and tablecloths, smoking their cigarettes. The girls were leaned on some of the guys, smoking their cigarettes, or pouting at the cigarette smoke. He liked this picture just the same way he liked the one of his parents. Everyone was captured at their truest. It was…the mixture of the artificial and the natural. He saw…beauty in a silly photograph taken by the dumpster behind their workplace. The picture of his girlfriend, Jess. He noticed her long black hair, her bright eyes, and her tan skin. He had all but forgotten how beautiful she was…and how lucky he was to have someone like her. He could hear her warm, brazen laugh in the smile of her portrait. They sounded like church bells…proud and strong.

Where were all these words coming from? When had such…poetry ever been part of him…who he was?

Character of Jason is becoming clearer now. I do have trouble differentiating between different characters, too, so you're not the only one. ^_^;

It's just that crossover chapter you need to work on some.

The change in Jason is pretty obvious in this chapter. Not quite sure why, but that might be revealed in a later part, I don't know.

All in all, a really great chapter. One of my favourites, I think.

I was wondering when the violin would come into play.

Segment 12: The Violin

Jason had later learned that the piece Yun had played was a piano Nocturne by Chopin, and that he had transcribed it there on the spot. Yun had told him later still that watching the bay made him want to play it. He couldn’t forget that day, when Yun played on the boat. Everyone, save Yun, had been moved to tears. The piece reached its final strain…hauntingly holding out over the calmed waters. The bow was still moving…but none of Yun’s captivated audience could hear anything. Then, just as inaudibly as it breathed…it…died.

Was he done? Was there more…?

Yun’s inexplicable smile appeared faintly, as if to say “I’m done”. There was a long sigh of release, then hearty applause”

“Where’d you learn that one?” JD asked

“Right here. On this very boat.” Yun looked out over the bay again.

“It was so sad though, Yun.” Tom said “Are you alright?” Yun’s smile again.

“I’m fine. I’m…happy.”

---

Now he understood why Yun was always gazing at things. Now he understood why there were so many moments of just Yun watching something. Jason did it too often…just watching things. But now he saw why Yun thought the things he did…everything was beautiful. The first thing he remembered was Yun’s smile; the unexplainable, indistinguishable smile. It was…beauty in uncertainty. Jason never knew if it was there, but he could just barely sense its presence. That’s the way he liked it.

---

“I just can’t sleep, man. You know?” Jason took a drag from his cigarette. The clock proudly displaying its message of “3:04 am”, the other guys lightly snoring, Jason sat in an armchair, surrounded only by darkness and his friends.

“I know.” Darren replied softly. “It’s…your spirit’s restless. Or something. You know?”

“Yeah. I know. It’s just like…slowly, I’m seeing everything really different, and I don’t know why. You know?”

“I know.” The cigarettes’ dying fumes carried off the remains of the conversation as the two men slowly drifted off into their own worlds of thought. A shuffle, and twist, a roll and suddenly Yun was leaning against Jason.

“Yun?” he asked softly. “You awake?” No answer. The boy was sound asleep. “Figures” Jason grumbled softly, wrapping his arm around him. He pulled the blanket over them and nestled into his chair. “Goodnight Yun.”

---

It had been an endless bus ride that day. Jason sat next to Yun in an awkward silence. The scenery was standing still, and Yun still refused to even look at Jason. The stony eyes, pointed straight out the window in utter nothingness got to him. His eyes, Jason thought, his eyes are usually…alive and happy…

“Dude…about last night, I’m sorry” he managed to force out. No reply. “Man…I’m really, really sorry, Yun. I was…”

“I know” Yun turned to him. Relief. His eyes had gone soft again. “I don’t want any excuses. I’m not angry.” He sighed visibly and slumped in his chair, resting his face on his hand, away from Jason. The mere fact that he leaned away from him hurt Jason, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. “I’m just…very disappointed in you”

“…I’m sorry.”

“It’s…it’s okay, my friend”. Yun’s inexplicable smile returned. That familiar smile was enough to quell all of his uncertainties. At least for now, he had Yun back. “Besides, you’re doing the honorable thing. You’re taking me to fix Xiao Mei.

“So you’re not mad?”

“I’m actually…actually very happy.” Jason was absolutely nonplussed. The boy never ceased to astound him. This move had caught him completely off guard.

“…Wh…what?”

“I…uh…I feel like, uh…I know you better now. Before you were just a great guy, and a great friend. Now, you’re still a great guy and a great friend, but I’ve seen the other side of you. You know, no coin has only one side, right? Now I know your virtues, now I know your vices. Now I know you, Jason, as a whole. And with all that in place, I still like you. Doesn’t that say something about you as well?”

“Goddammit Yun” he shook his head, muttering in reply “You think too goddamn much about these things”

“Yeah.” Lu Yun Xiao shifted his weight, resting his head on Jason’s shoulder “Thank you for everything.” Jason placed his hand on the boys head

“no…” he patted softly “Thank you”

The bus stopped.

---

“We’re not going home until your violin is fixed” Jason declared as he sat down on a slightly dusty piano bench. “We’ll put up at a motel in town tonight”

“It’ll be done around 10 at night tomorrow” Mr. Ma, the store owner and family friend of Yun’s examine the broken fingerboard, tailpiece, bridge and strings “Violin will be good as not broken by then” The old man disappeared into his backroom.

Jason sighed and turned to Yun, who was gazing about the room. In his eyes, passion for his beloved instrument shone clearly. He picked up a beautiful ornate violin, it’s scroll in the shape of a human hand. He tuned it quickly then almost reverently, he picked up a bow and began to play.

The haunting melody filled the room, echoing eerily off the walls and sending chills up Jason’s spine.

“This is her song” Yun swayed back and forth, his eyes shut tight “She has lived through many ages…both peaceful and bloody.” Almost as if in a trance, Yun stepped about the room, playing softly “she is stained…she is sad…and only wishes now for a peaceful slumber”

“Whose song?” Jason almost regretted speaking up as the gentle, yet sorrowful haze shattered about him the instant his voice toppled the delicate balance.

“The violin’s” Yun whispered softly “That was her song”

“…you’re…you’re amazing…”

That last bit reminded me of the storie about the red violin. It was a beutiful story too.

Loved that last chapter, although it seemed smaller than all the others for some reason.

I'm getting seriously addicted to this story. :)

Segment 13:

They lodged that night at a Motel Eight; a cheap, broken down, shady and downright seedy dump. A haven for dirty late night sexual encounters, Jason deduced from the awkward glances the manager gave them.

“Here you are…have a good night” the gruff voice was filled with a sort of disgust, aimed specifically at sexual deviance.

“He must think we’re gonna do it!” Yun laughed lightly as they approached the room. Jason fiddled with the door uncomfortably to their room. As he opened the door, a dank musky air hit them full force, and both of them reeled back visibly from the smell and sight of the room. “I’m gonna take a shower…” Yun said hesitantly as he stepped through the room. Soon, the sounds of running water ensued, followed closely by Yun’s voice, singing yet another delicately beautiful melody. In Chinese, it seemed. Jason stared at the bathroom door, unable to tear himself from it. As gently as it had started, the song ended. The water stopped. Yun emerged fully clothed moments later.

“What’s up?” he tilted his head at Jason, who was sitting on the bed staring at him.

“What was that song?”

“Oh…I made it up. ‘My dear friend destroyed my other, and through him she is reborn. Forever shall we be friends…etc…etc.”

“Yun…you’re amazing.” Jason felt a clutch in his heart, but he quickly quelled it “I’m surprised you’re not in an orchestra…or singing or touring or something Why’re you just a waiter at a country club?”

“Because I choose to be”

---

Jason flipped off the TV and started undoing his clothes. He stripped down to his boxers, staring at himself in the mirror for a moment. The skinny 23 year old man, shaggy brown hair on his head and chin, the sunken brown eyes and posture…it looked as if the years had worn him down. He lay down in the bed and quickly nestled under the covers.

“You sleep in your boxers too?” Jason turned to the bathroom door, where Yun peered curiously at him. The young man, too, was clad only in boxers. Jason gulped. Immediately he regretted offering to lodge with Yun. Too many emotions and thoughts skyrocketed through his head…too many supposed hopes and fears.

“Yeah, I do”

“That’s funny”, Yun smiled as he slid under the covers next to him “The more I learn of you, I learn how alike and different we are. I like that.” He turned on his side, his back to Jason.

His heart raced a mile a minute. Someone he thought he was in love with was lying not more than a few inches from him not more than one pair of boxers away from being naked. He lay there for what seemed like hours, his thoughts paralyzing him to motionlessness. Finally, almost without thinking, he rolled over, then wrapped his arms around Yun, hugging him tightly.

And suddenly, all was warmth. He peeked over and saw Yun’s eyes closed, his inexplicable smile resting serenely on his face. He fidgeted a little, almost…snuggling up against him. Yet, there was no arousal…no more sexual tension, just a warmth that defied all his words. Is this…love? I don’t want to do him…I’m not gay…Jason thought, but…I love him…

“Remember Jason, my friend” Yun whispered, almost as if he had heard Jason’s very thoughts “there are many kinds of love” With that, he gave Yun a gentle squeeze and drifted almost immediately off to sleep.

---

“I just don’t understand” Jason lit another cigarette “I can’t explain what I felt…you know?” Darren only nodded in reply. “But…the morning after, I woke up with him still in my arms. I felt kinda dirty. Yun and I hadn’t done it, but still…I felt like I’d cheated on Jess…like I’d actually, you know…verbed Yun or something. But at the same time…I’d never felt more at peace with…with me.”

“Well…if you felt guilty, doesn’t that mean you still have feelings for Jess?”

“Yeah,” Jason took a long drag and let the smoke fade off into the night “I guess you’re right”

“You and Yun aren’t lovers” Darren said blankly, putting out his cigarette “but does it matter?”

“No, it doesn’t”

“You’ve only known Yun for…what…six months? And you feel that close to him?”

“Yeah”

“You ever hear of something called soul-mates?”

“Yeah, but Yun and I aren’t…”

“Lovers and soul-mates are two very different things, buddy.” Darren was staring him right in the eye “You and Jess are lovers. Yun is your soul-mate: Someone who completes who you are.”

“But wouldn’t that mean…I complete him too? I mean…he’s shown me lots of things, you know? I haven’t shown him feces. Plus, we’re nothing alike.”

“Keith is my soul-mate…” Darren almost whispered “And we’re nothing alike”

“…but what have I shown Yun?”

“Does Yun know he’s…uh…how shall we say…awakened your artistic soul?”

“hmmm,” Jason thought a moment “I guess not”

“Think hard.” Darren pulled out another cigarette and lit it idly “I already know of one effect you’ve had on Yun”

“What would that be?”

“Think of how he was when he first started working at the club”

“Man, he was so hard on himself. Always blaming himself for everything and always stewing over every little mistake he made”

“Yeah, and then one day he just broke down crying while he was serving my Dad, who was being a particularly big female dog in heat that night.”

“Yeah, he just sorta fell on his knees and started tearing up”

“Yeah” Darren laughed lightly “He forgot Dad’s soup”

“and I hefted him up and walked him outside to the back”

“Yep. Keith and I snuck around to see if he was doing okay”

“Haha yeah. ‘I’m a failure, I’m a failure’ he kept saying. ‘I’ll never amount to anything if I keep making mistakes!’”

“Yeah, and you gave him a cigarette, told him to puff on it and relax”

“…yeah…”

“Jason, you taught Yun that it was okay to relax” Darren smiled “And later on, you were the one who taught him to loosen up and have fun. You were the first one to get him to smile, and even laugh at things. That “inexplicable smile” you always talk about, you created that”

“I guess…yeah, I’d never seen Yun smile before that night”

“See?” Darren flicked on his lighter, turning his gaze out to the window “whenever I see that smile, I think: ‘There is Jason’s Masterpiece…his Mona Lisa and the enigmatic I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-a-smile.’ But dude, your medium wasn’t clay or even music. It was Yun, and Yun’s medium is you.”

Much much love <3 Jason is awesome . . .

Segment 14: You made him weep

It hadn’t been raining hard. In fact, it hadn’t been raining at all. The weather had been very pleasant at Keith’s funeral. Mr. Grigsby hugged his wife tightly to him, the both of them tearing up. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson were huddled together near Mr. Rosenbaum and his wife, their four heads bowed in silent respect and farewell. Darren had tears streaming down his face, Jason had never, ever seen Darren cry. Many people from the club had shown up, and he was convinced that they were merely there for show.

“You see Yun, they act like they care about him by making an appearance…but it’s just to boost their social status a little more.”

“That’s not a very fair thing to say” Yun frowned at him “People like Mr. Darby knew Keith, and felt it necessary to say their final respects and give their farewells. All of them…Keith knew them through his parents and through the club. Keith had died surrounded by strangers…he must be so happy to see that everyone has come to see farewell, so he could be sent off by friends and family. We all loved him in our own ways” Yun turned to Jason “even the members of the club”

“What makes you say that?” Jason felt almost flushed with embarrassment

“They’re human too”

---

“So how’d you end p with Yun at the motel in the first place?”

“It’s…it’s not one of my prouder moments” Jason sighed as he passed his lighter over to Darren after lighting his own cigarette.

“Drive home safely!” Jess called from the door, waving a drunken wave with her happy, yet ever beautiful smile. “See ya work tomorrow!” with a quickly, sloppily blown kiss goodnight, Jess was gone, replaced by an oak door: “Billingham” embossed on the front

“I drove off from Jess’s house with Yun. Joey’s party had been amazing. Tom kept on making us all our favorite drinks, and I lost count of how many I’d had. I guess my driving was really suspicious” Jason pulled over by courthouse road “Yun had only had a few drinks, and thought it’d be better if he drove” Jason and Yun exited the car and traded seats before starting off again.

“He probably wasn’t in the best condition to drive either” Darren shook his head, puffing on his cigarette “And you drive stick”

“You no gas left” Yun turned to him, “My house right up here…stay with me tonight?”

“Yeah, after a rough start, Yun managed to get the hang of it, but not before one of the goddamn cops noticed us”

“Ah, our ever vigilant police force.” Darren grinned. A siren flashed and soon Jason’s car was pulled off near the intersection of Courthouse and Trap. “They’ll clock you for six over the speed limit, but if you’re robbed at knife-point a block from their station, they’re nowhere to be found”

“Seriously” Jason muttered before taking a drag “Damnit Yun look whatya did. How’reya gonna splaining to cops what’re we doing!?”

“We will stay calm, and I’ll explain” Yun kept his hands on the wheel. His smile returned “And I’m asian. We’re notorious for bad driving anyways.”

“I laughed uncontrollably, even as the cop walked up” Jason smiled fondly “I was so drunk.” The cop gave Jason a disapproving look and then turned to Yun. “Clever little Yun had been drinking lots of water before we left, and had brushed his teeth, and had been taking breath mints to throw off his mom. I on the other hand, reeked of booze.”

“You boys been drinking tonight?” the cop asked sternly

“The usual start to most of our conversations with the boys in blue” Darren rolled his eyes

“My friend here is very drunk, officer. I have not been drinking” Yun said solemnly “He was, and still is in no condition to drive. I’m driving him to my house for the night, it’s not two blocks from where we are now, but I’m unaccustomed to stick-shift”

“Damn he’s good” Darren smiled fondly

“It gets better” scratching his crotch, Jason leaned back in his chair

“If you could escort us to my house and keep and eye on us, I would be eternally grateful”

“Damn…he’s really good”

“He was happy to comply, and after checking Yun’s license, my license and registration, he told Yun that it was good to see such a responsible kid”

“Nice to see that there are kids like you to watch out for your idiot friends” the officer jerked a thumb at Jason, who flipped him the bird once his back was turned.

“So he watched Yun carry me in and drove off”

“That doesn’t explain why…”

“Hold on” Jason laughed “We got in to find Yun’s Mom was visiting his aunt in Blacksburg; Family Emergency” Yun laid Jason down on his bed and set a glass of water on the nightstand. “Then…he kissed me on the forehead goodnight” Jason, in a drunken anger pushed Yun away

“No cheating on Jess!” he barked “I’m the only one who I can cheat on Jess with!”

“You make remarkable sense when you’re drunk” Darren sighed

“You make remarkable sense when you’re drunk” Yun sighed.

“That’s exactly what he said” Jason sat bolt upright in the bed “What the verb is that supposed to mean, huh!?”

“Never you mind, you need to get some rest now”

“No! I’m not gonna do anything you tell me to…Mr. Know-it-all Lu! You think you know…verbing…verbing everything! I’m Yun, I can sweet talk every cop ever lived”

“So you’re an angry drunk” Darren laughed

“Sometimes. I don’t know what else I yelled at him about…I shoved him to the floor at one point…” Jason reached over and grabbed Yun’s violin, resting calmly in its case and lifted it high in the air “This is what I think of you! You smart-ass chink cat up a tree!” he sighed visibly “I don’t know why I did that, but I remember the look of shock on his face the instant the violin left my hand.” Tears sprung to Yun’s eyes. He sprung over to his broken violin. The strings had snapped, the fingerboard was half off, the ornate bridge had shattered and the tailpiece had fallen off. The young Chinese man clutched the pieces to him and cried as Jason had never seen anyone cry before. His broken wails wracked the night with a choked sorrow.

‘Jesus…” Darren muttered “You made him weep”

“I hugged him…after I realized what I’d done and apologized and apologized” Jason awoke the next morning, holding Yun in his arms on the floor. His friend’s eyes were red from crying, and his hands still gripped the broken instrument to him”

“So…we hopped a bus to get it fixed.”

so very true.

Really nice. You could be clearer on what's flashback and what's present time, though, it's a little confusing.

Ya, its is sometimes. But im not sure how you could do it differently.