Roland watched the zooming cars from the window, lost in thought.
The story that Mr. Jones told him last night still haunted his mind like a ghost. There's still many questions in his mind regarding this uncle of his.
But one thing that bothered him the most was the fact that G.G. Faust seemed to be suicidal since the start.
This man died from a biking 'accident' not long after Harker's birth. He was said to be drunk, yes, but….
Roland shook his head. It wasn't important now. He had to focus on helping Harker find Victoria and his upcoming first trial in an actual courtroom.
Harker meanwhile still felt a little sleepy. He leaned his head on Roland's shoulder and yawned.
"How much longer till we get to the airport? The traffic's shitty today."
Roland shrugged. "We'll get there soon. You can take a nap. You slept like a log last night, and yet you're still tired. Got a hangover?"
"Yeah, maybe."
He didn't. Because the truth was….
He was awakened when he heard voices downstairs with his enhanced hearing ability.
Harker wasn't noticed by either of them at all. He easily merged with the shadows, his feet not even meeting the ground being suspended with his hair like a spider clinging on its own thread.
He heard everything. The story also had as much effect on him as it did to Roland, but for different reasons.
'The tattoo on G.G. Faust's chest.... I wonder if Dad still remembers what it looks like.' He thought.
They parted ways at the airport without discussing what happened last night. Roland didn't know Harker knows, and Harker doesn't intend for him to know either. He felt a little jealous that his dad trusted Roland enough to tell him about his part that he's always so secretive about. But he was more thankful that someone as reliable as Roland got the truth out of him.
But before they said goodbye, Roland suddenly asked a question.
"Harker…. What if, hypothetically, you lose Mina during her quest to get revenge for her family?"
Harker was really dumbstruck from this question. "Huh?"
"I don't mean to make you more worried. I'm just asking because we both know there's a strong possibility for that to happen." Roland said. "What I'm trying to ask is…. What will you feel? Can you say that her dying is enough to….. you know…."
"What? Roland, don't try to jinx things for me—"
"I'm asking if you won't be able to live without her. That you would die if you lost her."
Roland decided to be straightforward now. "I'm not doubting that you do love her. I'm more worried about how deep that love is. Because there are people that won't be able to move on when they lose the one they love the most."
"I can sympathize with those types of people, and I'm just asking if you are the same. Because then, if Mina dies, and you also decide to….. Follow after her—"
"I get it now." Harker raised his hand, stopping him from speaking any further. "You're asking if I love Mina enough to kill myself if she dies. You're worried you'd lose two of your friends at once if that happened."
Roland bit his lower lip, and nodded.
Harker did not answer. Instead, they stood there with tension thick and suffocating in the air, while the intercom announced for the flight to Virginia going on within 15 minutes.
"The truth is…." Harker started.
He inhaled deeply. "The truth is….. I don't know. If I die, what about my family? What about the innocent people that will get affected by Victoria? So I don't know if I would be able to kill myself. But if I did lose Mina….."
"I know it would crush me. And the damage would be irreparable."
His friend considered this answer, his expression grim. Then, he gave Harker a hug.
"That's the answer I'm most scared of, to be honest. But I respect that."
They parted in such grim terms that Roland regretted ever asking the question. Still, he felt like he needed to.
To some people, love can make life worth living.
And if that love was gone, then so too would be that purpose to live. There are far too many people like that.
-------------------------------
"Hah….. Ahck…. Go faster…. Oh, right there…."
The bed creaked all night long in this seedy motel room, 15 floors up. Not the best place for a one night stand, but it would suffice.
Joan was long used to places like this. The little fella she managed to snag was fast asleep, full of red marks on his arms and shoulder.
This guy had tanned skin, unruly hair, and a pretty tough disposition. He wore a red leather jacket that was strewn across the floor where Joan's clothes were, along with several used condoms.
Joan took a hit of the fresh blunt she rolled up. This weed was from the sleeping boy she doesn't know the name of. As the smoke curled from her lips, they caused a bit of a condensation on the window where she was leaning on.
She watched the busy streets far down. This motel has a pretty good view despite being crusty as fuck, she'd give them that.
She pushed the window away, and let her feet dangle off the ledge. There were no stars in the sky tonight.
No, the stars were always there. It was just that there's higher pollution and haze in the city that's why they cannot be seen. But even in the countryside, Joan noticed that they were getting less and less visible as years went by.
Back then, ancient people would think this little diamond-like fuckers were literally like billions of gems stretching for miles and miles.
But now, they were just a bunch of gasses and dust that was more than a million miles from this planet. Still, even if she explains this to a romantic, he will only say:
"They still look like diamonds, do they not? If only I could capture them and bring them to you….. I would want to see them shining from your hands, your neck, your ears. I would give you all the diamonds in the world if I could, love."
Romantics were truly the silliest and stupidest people in the world.
She had nearly smoked all of the blunt, and Joan just let the ashes fall down. She wondered what it would be like to be those ashes and freefall from this height.
It was not the first time such a thought came to her mind.
But….. She could never do it. There's no point anyway. It's been so many years since she made several attempts, and none of them worked. She was still alive and breathing.
She turned to the sleeping boy, and remembered how he kept saying "I love you" as they did it. Possibly because she was so good, and he wasn't so bad himself. She thought she might have left her number if it weren't for that habit of his.
She only ever hooked up with him because he looked like a certain someone anyway.
And that certain someone also reminds her of a certain someone. So really, none of them were worthy enough to risk the bothersome affair of 'having someone fall in love with you'.
Instead, Joan put her clothes on and wrapped that red leather jacket on her shoulder as she left the motel room.
Maybe one day she'll finally manage to jump out that window and say goodbye to this starless city.
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