He hadn't seen him since they stopped talking. There had been no signs of life from John—no messages, no updates. Thomas didn't know where he was or how he was doing. Seeing him now was completely unexpected.
John was wearing a white shirt and black pants. He looked different, more serious. Back in school, when they were classmates, John had been different—or maybe he had simply grown up. Thomas wondered if John still had that same sense of humor.
John stepped closer.
"I'm sorry I couldn't come to your mother's funeral. I was abroad at the time—my mom was sick back then."
Thomas didn't hear any emotion in his voice.
"There wasn't a funeral. I hope your mom's doing well," Thomas replied.
"Yes, she's fine," John said, and then fell silent.
He looked at Thomas, and Thomas could sense the sadness in him. In truth, Thomas had tried not to think about John at all, but it was just as futile as trying to forget the events of the past year.
It hurt to think about how happy they had been back then, living carefree lives as best friends. He knew those days were gone forever.
John's hair was combed to the side, making him look even more attractive.
"I didn't want things to end up this way, Thomas," John began. "I really didn't."
"I'm glad to see you, John," Thomas said, though his mind drifted to thoughts of Carol. He wondered if John could have met the same fate as her. The thought was painful.
"You did everything for me. You didn't consider me your enemy, did you?"
"I did what I had to do," Thomas replied.
"Back then, I didn't understand that," John said, lowering his gaze. "I thought we had become enemies."
For a moment, they were silent, and then Thomas spoke.
"We have always been friends, John. Always. I wanted to keep you away from me to keep you safe."
"Molly sent me a message," John replied. "She said it was all for my sake. And I was a fool because I thought of you as my enemy, but you were just trying to protect me." John looked at his friend.
Thomas turned away.
"Does it even matter now?" It was hard for Thomas to recall it all.
"Of course it matters," John said. "I had no other friends besides you. And you thought I forgot about you? Of course not. I thought about you—how you were, whether you were okay. After Molly wrote me that letter, I wanted to come to you, but I couldn't. I was worried about you."
"I'm alive, as you can see," Thomas said, turning back to his friend. "A year has passed, and it still hurts, John. When will my pain go away? When will I become the person I used to be? I want to be happy, John. I'm tired of living like this. That moment, when I told you we weren't friends—you don't know how hard it was for me. I suffered so much, John. I haven't forgotten about you, either. I tried—I won't lie—I tried. But how could I forget about a friend? Tell me, John, could I ever forget you? Who would I be after that? I wanted you to stay away from that man. I didn't want it to end up like it did with Carol. I didn't want to repeat my mistakes. I wished you happiness. I wanted at least one of us to be happy. I can't blame you for thinking I consciously abandoned our friendship. But I would never have done that, and you know it. My behavior back then was just strange—I went through a lot. It's a wonder I'm standing here before you now and not locked up in some asylum."
John looked at his friend, saddened.
"How could I have thought that you'd just abandon our friendship so easily? I was a fool, Thomas. I was. But now I know everything, because back then, I knew nothing."
"If it weren't for Molly, you still wouldn't know", Thomas thought.
"Does it change anything?" Thomas suddenly said.
"What do you mean?" John looked at him, surprised.
"I mean, does it change anything—that you've known the truth? Things will never be the same as they once were, John. They won't. You have your life, and I have mine. Isn't that right?"
"But does that mean we have to end it all? Does it mean we have to break all ties? You said it yourself—we were friends. We've always been friends." John's voice carried a note of hope that Thomas couldn't ignore.
"We were friends. But can we become friends again?" Thomas said sadly, lowering his gaze. He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a single cigarette.
"Damn it. Where's my lighter?"
"Here, take mine," John said, handing him his lighter.
Thomas took it and lit the cigarette.
"Don't tell me you're still smoking," John said suddenly, taking the lighter back.
"I don't smoke. But today… today's different. Today, it's allowed." Thomas exhaled a cloud of smoke.
For a moment, they were silent. Then John spoke, his tone determined.
"Let's forget everything from the past and start over."
"What do you mean?"
"I know you're hurting. But you have to understand that the more you dwell on the past, the more you'll torture yourself. It's been a year." John hesitated before continuing. "Yes, I know it's not easy. But you're not alone, Thomas. You have me—your comrade, your brother, your friend. From now on, I'll always be here for you."
"You're talking as if we're a couple," Thomas said with a smile, lighting another cigarette. This time, it was a genuine smile—the first one in a long time.
"What?" John suddenly burst into laughter, louder this time.
Thomas laughed too, and as he did, memories of their school days came flooding back—sitting in the cafeteria, going to Mr. Taylor's classes, that fool who always made them do exercises while Ethan just stood watching. Thomas remembered all the happy moments, and it was as if all his pain was wiped away in an instant. Before he even realized it, he found himself in John's embrace.
He spat out the cigarette and hugged John back, catching the scent of rather pleasant cologne.
"Oh, stop it," Thomas said, pulling away, still laughing. "What will people think of us?"
"I don't care," John replied. "I've finally found you—my true friend who was ready to give up everything for me."
"Well, not literally everything."
John smiled.
"And I still remember—you almost lost your head because of her," Thomas suddenly said.
"What?"
Thomas didn't reply but smiled instead.
For a moment, John was silent.
"You liked her too, didn't ya?" he finally said. "But in the end, she chose him."
Thomas looked at his friend.
"But does it matter now? What's in the past no longer has any meaning. Back then, I was a fool, trying to get her attention without even realizing how indifferent she was to me."
"You're right. It doesn't matter at all," Thomas admitted. "It's just… when I look at you, all those memories of what we had before I lost my mind come rushing back."
"Hey, how about we go to that place we went to the last time?"
Thomas was certain that place still existed. He smiled and nodded. "Today's my day off, and you, damn it, showed up so unexpectedly that not celebrating it would be a sin."
"Absolutely," John smiled and threw an arm around his friend's shoulder.
"There have been a lot of bad moments in my life—terrible ones—that almost made me give in to my hatred. Luckily, I didn't become a killer. I've learned to cherish happy moments, to persevere despite all the difficulties I've faced. Maybe someone wouldn't believe me if they heard what I've been through. But it's true. Back then, I didn't want to live. I wanted to leave this world to escape the pain. But everything that happened in the past helped me understand just how beautiful life is. And I think the greatest credit for that belongs to my friend—my brother—John."
"Why are you smiling like that?" John suddenly asked, glancing at Thomas.
"I finally feel happy… after so long time."