DECONSTRUCTED

Aspen slipped in through the door, quietly as possible - pushing the pin through the bell around their neck to silence it. They didn’t know if Xi was home, but they didn’t have it in them to face him right now. They were so sure that if they saw his face, they’d collapse and just cry. No time to digest anything.

So instead they slunk into their unfurnished room, closed the door as gently as they could, then pressed their back against it as they slid to the floor. They took a long, shaky breath.

“Curtains closed,” they murmured to themselves, the words barely a breath from their lips.

What were they even sad for? It was a happy occasion. They cared for Anwar, a lot, and Kyrus, even if Kyrus didn’t care back. The two deserved to be happy, and still, all Aspen could hear was the ringing in their ears the moment Anwar said those words.

Were they jealous, then? Is that what this was? Did they wish they were the one marrying one or both of them? Did they still wish Kyrus hadn’t dumped them, all these months later, or was it more akin to envy? Would it even have mattered who was marrying, as long as someone was?

Maybe it was all of the above. Even they weren’t quite sure, which, frankly, made it a hundred times worse. If they knew what was causing that, horrible, crushing tightness in their chest, maybe they could start trying to deal with it.

Aspen tipped their head back, letting it gently thump against the wooden door.

This was all their fault, really. They’d not exactly made themselves knowable. If they’d really been trying, if they’d really wanted to, they would’ve told Anwar so many things by now. Their pain, their fear…who they really were. They would’ve shed the performance and told him all the things they’d once told Kyrus.

Why hadn’t they told him?

Because you’re a coward? their own voice whispered.

Because you don’t know how to be honest?

Because you’ve put up so many acts, you can’t undo them without falling apart?

Their hands clenched into fists and eyes shut tight.

Because you don’t think he’ll want you if he knew the truth?

Their eyes shot open - that one felt a little too close to the truth. Aspen knew Anwar - he would never try to be cruel, never be malicious to them, but Anwar wasn’t a liar like Aspen was. He wouldn’t pretend for their sake, and he could break their heart even with kind words and soft hands.

Maybe they lied because it gave them an excuse. Easier for the liar to lose everything, because they never had anything real.

But it was far, far too late now, wasn’t it? Even if they told Anwar everything, it was too late to change it. They were already on the outside, already looking in at the paradise Anwar had, the paradise Kyrus had. The future they were building together. The two were creating exactly the life Aspen had always wanted.

You’ll never get that, that little voice whispered again.

“Shut up,” they mumble.

What did they even want anymore? They weren’t the silly performer who’d shown up to the Spire in hopes of getting their big break. They were something shattered, put back together wrong. The talent show had taken the last of their innocence, and now they couldn’t even look at a carnival or clown without their shoulder aching, a pain that wasn’t physical, but real nonetheless.

Who had they become?

They didn’t want to be alone, so—

“Xi?” They called, then waited. Opened their door, poked their head out, called again: no answer. The disappointment was tangible.

They went back into their room and stared at the furniture in need of assembly. They opened their mouth, then closed it and shook their head.

They didn’t feel right. It wasn’t okay, and here in this space, with no one else around, that could be true for a little while. But what was also true was this: they were still sleeping on the ground until they put the bed together.

So they picked up the piles of wood and got to work, leaving their emotions hanging in the room around them.

It was the best they had.