VC Yes, of course!
VC The kinds of feelings that evokes...
VC It's different from the others.
VC It's warm, like anger. But so, so tender.
VC Please, could I ask you about it?
Vincent's one visible eye is sparkling. He's also inched towards you little by little, until he's right in front of you. It's as if this topic completely overrides his typical anxiety.
Y/N Sure.
Y/N Ask me whatever you want. I'll try my best.
He nods, his hands clasped together. Suddenly, his face drops, and he searches his pockets.
VC No, no...!
VC Wah, the one time I don't have a notebook!
You search your own belongings, though you don't come up with any pad or paper. Looking around desperately, Vincent grabs a particularly blank card.
Y/N I don't think you should do that.
VC I-I'll buy it. I'll pay for it afterwards.
VC This is more important, don't you think?
He takes out the feather that's usually worn on his ear. The end of it has a pen nib, funnily enough. Then, he sits cross-legged on the floor and looks up at you expectantly. You sit down, too.
VC What do you know about this person?
You didn't go to school with him - you likely wouldn't have afforded that prestigious private academy he had attended, anyway - but you can imagine that this is how he looks when he's studying. His eyes typically dart in every direction, but here they're calm and stable. You are his focal point. His intellectual anchor.
Y/N They're... kind.
Y/N That's their biggest strength. They have a big heart.
Vincent nods, his gaze dropping downwards to write something on the card.
VC Yes, we are drawn to those with compassion, aren't we?
VC Those who put others before themselves.
VC Those who are determined to make a better, more beautiful world.
VC I-I've always had trouble with that, to be honest...
Y/N You? That can't be right.
VC Please, I know myself better than anyone.
VC I was my first subject, before I had known anyone else.
VC Deep down, I would never be able to be so selfless.
VC I only serve my own interests.
Y/N No, Vincent, that's wrong.
Y/N You're good to people. You care.
His smile is laced with sorrow.
VC It's very kind of you to say that, Y/N.
VC Truly, this person is deserving of someone like you.
Y/N You shouldn't talk about yourself like -
VC This isn't about me.
VC Please. Go on.
VC I insist.
You try to argue again, but Vincent keeps shaking his head. He must know that you're still insisting from your emotions. So you back off for now. You think about something else you like about this person. Something uniquely theirs.
Y/N Their life is tragic.
Y/N From what I know about it, anyway.
Y/N A lot of people's lives are. But somehow, they find the strength to live.
Y/N There's something compelling about that, isn't it?
VC Hmm.
VC Yes. In a narrative sort of way, we gravitate towards conflict.
VC Because it creates an uncertain outcome. In some cases, an earned resolution.
VC Or in others, an eternal restlessness.
VC I like to write towards the latter.
VC N-Not that I can't stomach a happy ending. That's nice, too.
VC Nevertheless... there's something about dissatisfaction that keeps your mind attracted.
VC A hole yet patched. A rift that remains torn.
VC If all the holes are gone, there's no reminder of that darkness we had once glimpsed.
VC And in reality, there will always be darkness.
VC The depths of the human soul. That which we reject, subconsciously or unconsciously.
VC That is what compels me.
Y/N It sounds like you're writing a poem. Right now.
VC D-does it? Was I going on too long...?
Y/N No, I meant it in a good way!
Y/N I like it when you think aloud. It's like a glimpse into your mind.
When he smiles this time, it's more heartfelt.
VC You make that sound like a good thing.
Y/N Why wouldn't it be?
VC W-Well... if you really knew...
Vincent trails off. You've always found it easy to talk to him, though talking about him is a different story. Maybe today will be different.
Y/N Can I ask you a question this time?
VC Me?
Y/N Mmm hmm.
VC I, umm...
VC I can't promise I'll deliver...
Y/N Don't worry about it. It's just what we've been discussing.
Y/N You can only talk about what you're comfortable with.
VC ...
VC Alright.
VC Wh-What is it?
Y/N Do... you have someone special in your thoughts?
Vincent swallows and looks away. He fiddles with the long bang that's usually swept over half of his face.
VC If I must be as earnest as you like...
VC I can't remember a time when there wasn't someone in my thoughts.
Y/N You've loved them for that long?
VC N-No! That isn't what I meant!
VC I mean, from the beginning, I've always grown attached to things.
VC Things, people. Art. Memories. I cherish them strongly.
VC There's so much beauty to admire... how could I not fall in love every time?
As dreary as Vincent appears, the world through his eyes must look immaculate. Everything with their distinct form, function, and aesthetic. The only thing you don't understand is why he doesn't apply such optimism to himself.
Y/N Who was your very first crush, if you remember?
Vincent exhales, closing his eyes.
VC I was very young.
VC And I was surrounded by peers my age.
VC Some came and went. Some stayed.
VC Some fought for approval. Some ran away to decide for themselves.
VC One united us.
Y/N United...?
VC Yes. After all, we shared the same roof.
VC We should have been like family. A community resigned to the same fate.
VC However, we were all deprived of love. It made us desperate.
VC It was only through one person's efforts that things began turning around.
VC It was how they were chosen, too, in the end.
Y/N ...
Y/N You were chosen too, Vincent.
VC Yes. I know.
VC I am forever grateful to my father. Grateful that I am a Labelle.
Y/N Have you ever gotten in touch with them? Any one of them?
VC No. They were never... good about keeping records.
VC And ever since they were shut down years ago, I've long lost hope of doing so.
VC All I have are my memories.
You picture a child half the height of Vincent but with the same trousled hair and awkward posture. They're holding onto an old book with dog-eared pages, scribbles on the cover, and water damage throughout.
Y/N I'm sorry.
VC ...
VC I've been grieving for a long time.
VC Even though it should've been the start of a new life,
VC It was also the end of another.
VC I... I don't remember much about their appearance.
VC We all shared clothing. We only really differentiated by our voices.
Y/N What did they sound like?
To your surprise, he lets out a soft chuckle.
VC If I think about it...
VC Their voice sounds like yours.
VC Encouragement. Reassurance. Resolve.
VC It all sounds familiar.
Y/N ...
Y/N I'm not from your orphanage, Vincent. I would've remembered.
VC I know.
VC Perhaps my mind has long replaced one comfort for another.
VC It's unsettling... how it could lose something so easily.
Y/N But it gained something, too.
Y/N Doesn't that mean... anything?
He looks up from his card, an inquisitive expression on his face. A moment passes, and he looks back down, suddenly seeming bashful.
VC Yes.
VC Yes, I suppose it does.
The questions continue for a couple more rounds. You continue to describe this mystery person, while Vincent humors your questions about his romantic history. It doesn't surprise you that none of his sentimental daydreams came to fruition; seeking an answer brings the certain. And Vincent thrives in the fog of frightening, yet thrilling uncertainty.
The session ends abruptly when he reaches for a third card. You let him go with the second one, since the two of you were lost in the moment. However, you drew the line. You suggested they both take the two cards to the checkout area and continue this conversation elsewhere. And finally, you saw a smile that was completely absent of any lingering melancholy.
THE END
(Ending 9/20: Hold On Tight)
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