I waded through the bustling streets of Vancouver, dodging puddles and people alike. There was a reason I hated the wetness. No, it wasn't just limited to me finding every single thing damp. It was the rush it brought about. Perhaps, people actually had a destination to get to that all care for basic human decency went out the window, but my gut told me they were also trying to find a roof over their head lest the rains drop announced, drenching them and their thousand dollar laptops.

At least that was my excuse for using my elbows to make way for myself down the sidewalk. I shoved past a suited man with a briefcase whose focus was more on running and on his phone than on where he was going, yet he gave me the time of day to send a well-executed glare. I ignored him. If he was expecting an apology, he wasn't about to get it. I stopped apologising the moment I got shoved and didn't get an apology back.

"Are you taking your medicines on time?" my mother said through the receiver.

"I have an alarm," I said while manoeuvring between two chattering ladies with baby strollers. One of them ran it over my foot. She didn't apologise.

"So?"

"Yes. I'm taking them."

"Morning, noon, night?"

"After I eat. I remember, Amma."

"Nothing wrong with reminding you again," she said, and I had the sudden urge to apologise for snapping at her. Then, some woman shoved my elbow. I almost dropped my phone, and the urge vanished. "Why do you sound like you're out of breath?"

"I'm not out of breath, I'm—" I stopped, heaved in a huge breath, and continued my shuffling. "I'm walking to Krishna's place."

"Oh. Okay."

"How's Daddy? Where is he?" I sidestepped as an old couple passed by. That gave me enough time to control my breathing. Jesus, I really was out of breath.

"You know. At the park. Where else?"

"This early?" I checked the time. It was almost 5:30 pm here. That meant close to seven am there.

"He said something about catching the colours of the sun's first rays. You know these things better than I do."

I bit my upper lip and ground the flesh till I could feel the dry skin tearing. Not anymore. Not for a long time. "Clarissa? She left?"

"Taking a shower. Her bus comes only at 7:30."

I heard her sigh. I knew these things. It was routine for them. There wasn't much to talk about these days. Our calls were just a method of letting each other know we were alive. I'm not dead! I'm not dead, either! Nothing of substance remained. We skirted around topics, trying not to ruin the other person's mood, and if we failed, the red button was put to use faster.

"And you?" I asked.

"Enjoying the quiet." Then a slurp. "And my coffee."

I knew what came after. I was present for this day after day. I just had to close my eyes, and there it was. The bitter smell of fresh, ground coffee upending the entire living room, sounds of sizzling, followed by the aroma of batter being cooked on an open stove, sunlight streaming through the sliding doors of our balcony, the fragrance of my mother's lavender body lotion as she strode into my room, whispering Time to wake up in my ear, Clarissa's whines across the hallway, my father entering through the door with his sketchbook in hand.

God, I missed them.

"Bacha," my mother's voice cut through my daydreams. "Are you all settled there?"

"Yeah." I cleared my throat and entered Krishna's apartment complex. "It's not like this is the first time I'm coming here."

"I didn't mean—"

"Okay, Ma. I gotta go. No signal in the elevator." She was too close to a mood-ruiner.

"Yeah, I need to get ready, too. I love you, Neil."

"Love you, too, Mommy."

The line was dead.

Krishna's door was ajar when I reached his floor. I entered with a bang, the door hitting the dry wall behind and acting as my announcer.

"Aye! My man!" Krishna lunged at me with one hand raised.

We clapped hands and did the one-armed hug. His slap on my back almost knocked the air out of me.

"Good summer? Get a lot of dick?" He grabbed the grocery bag from me while I shimmied out of my jacket and shoes.

"My hand defo did." I went straight for his couch and plopped on it with the grace of a blob and rested my feet on the coffee table.

He joined me, but not without thoroughly roughing up my hair. I smiled and caught his wrist, swinging it as he came to sit on the other side. "You?" I asked.

"Eh." He curled his lip and shook his head, the way he always did when he was about to drop a bomb. "I gained ten kilos of pure muscle."

I knew it. Or more like felt it. "Jesus. I have to catch up."

"We on for today, bro?"

"Uhm. Duh! Like, I said. I need to catch up." I slapped his bicep.

He howled. "That's my man!"

I fired up the PlayStation and brought an end to our three month catch up. Krishna and I didn't talk much. He wasn't a talker, either. Instead, we did things together. Things that required little talking.

The talker who filled up our silences was missing in action right now.

Then, the door banged once more, like a bullet whipping through the air. Krishna and I didn't flinch, our thumbs moving over the controllers with the same ease.

A bag dropped to the floor behind and Deep stood in front of the couch between the two of us.

"People need to get a grip." And just like that, we got our filler.

"Hey, man," I greeted.

Deep nodded at me in response.

Krishna glanced at him and wrinkled his chin. "I agree."

Deep went on a long, unwinded, convoluted speech about an incident in his class involving a vegan liberal who called him a right-winged donkey. I tried keeping up with his waving hands and constant spew, but couldn't. Not when he blocked half my view and my samurai was in the claws of death.

When he seemed to have concluded his ramble. Or at least paused it for a while. I took the mini gap to sneak in a "Why is it always you who ends up in such situations?"

Krishna was quick to answer. "Because he's a little shit."

"Because I don't keep my mouth shut."

"Oh yeah, that too. Even in his sleep, he goes negh negh negh." Krishna opened and closed his fingers in a crocodile motion to further drive his point. "Why don't you put that mouth to better use?" His palm went to his crotch while his eyebrows rose up and down.

Deep didn't bother to conceal his disgust. "At least I know how to carry a conversation. All you do is stand in a shady corner like some steroid-loving serial killer."

I tugged Deep closer and threw my arms around his narrow waist, stuffing my face into his flat stomach. He put on some weight through the summer. I could feel it on his hips and back. Still, with that oversized button down and baggy jeans, he looked the same. His GShock hanging down his wrist like a heavy bangle did little to disprove his scraggliness.

"Yet this steroid-loving serial killer gets more chicks than you could even count."

"When we ask your body count, we don't ask for the number of women you killed and stuffed in a box."

"And we don't ask for the number of women you defeated in a chattering contest."

I held on tighter. Deep's arm instinctively curled around my shoulders.

"Oh, I forget, because impressing a woman is all about jiggling your pecs and they come running to take a lick"

"Worked on your mom."

And there it was. Deep leaped while I almost hauled him into my lap to prevent another severely disadvantaged MMA fight. It was hilarious, really. Deep—I love that guy, God bless him—is a literal twig who drowns in his own clothes. Meanwhile, Krishna possessed all the power to snap his neck in his pinky. It didn't stop Deep from trying, and Krishna from goading, and me from preventing.

Krishna left for the kitchen, snickering, and Deep moved from my lap to sprawl on the couch. The flickering sound of a stove being turned on floated in.

Deep perked up, sniffing the air. "Is he burning the apartment down?"

"Nope. Just the ready-to-cook chicken I bought."

"Okay, good." He fell back. "How's your living situation?"

"Apparently, that mute jackass from last year is also staying back on campus. So, I'm rooming with him again." My roommate wasn't mute. Not really. He was just too much of an asshole to be bothered to talk to me. Or look at me. Or acknowledge me. On the bright side, he was barely there. Maybe it worked in my favour, after all.

"Dude, Neil," Krishna reappeared with a grease covered spatula in hand, "Why did you stand up Henry, man?"

I groaned.

"I thought you liked him."

I groaned again.

Deep shifted to a sitting position. "Dude, you stood him up? That's so not cool."

"It's not like I wanted to stand him up."

"But you did." Krishna leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "He asked me why I'm hangin' out with a fucktard. I'm just happy I don't work in that depot anymore. His face is not one I wanna see again."

"He told you to fuck off? Good. Consider it from my side as well," Deep said.

"Will you stop making everything about you? I'm trying to talk to Neil here."

Deep rolled his eyes.

"So?" Krishna said.

"So what?"

"You said you liked him!"

"I said he looked hot."

"Same thing."

"I... You... We didn't click."

"Did you even give it a chance?"

"Of course I did. I heard him drone on and on about how he and his buds almost got mauled by a bear before being miraculously rescued by some wilderness man."

"I know that one! It's a fan favourite."

"Well..." I stared at Deep and Krishna's wide eyes. "I wasn't a fan."

"Okay, I admit he talks too much, but you could've, I don't know, fucked him or something? Even you admit he's—Oh my God!" Krishna snapped his fingers and waved his spatula, flicking grease everywhere. "We should set him up with Deep. They'll eat the other's head off with their chatter, and the world will be a quieter place."

"Careful, I might like him too much and then you'll be homeless."

Krishna... yeah, he was speechless. "You wouldn't."

"Lease is in my name. Don't tempt me."

Krishna grumbled something about being bossed around by a twink and then looked at me again.

I blinked.

He blinked.

Deep blinked.

The TV continued spewing garbled gaming noises.

"So?"

"So what?"

"What did you do after you left him stranded in the bar?"

"I didn't leave him stranded!"

"That's what he told me."

"You believe me or him?"

"Him!"

Wow.

"No, wait, you. I don't know. Tell me the entire fucking story," he said and went back to the corner with a stove these two called a kitchen.

"Look, it's simple. He texted me to come find him at a bar. We met, got some beer. Then, he talked like his life depended on it. I got, like, maybe ten words out the entire hour I was with him. He went to the restroom. And I bailed."

Of course, I wasn't about to tell them I met someone else. I trusted Deep and Krishna with my life. Reluctantly. But, last night was mine. I could still feel him. When I inhaled, I could smell his icy scent, like I just needed to turn my head to the side and his blue eyes would be on mine. I had shivered beneath his calloused hands on my cheeks, my body trembling under those dancing fingers etching swirls onto my skin. My palm still thought it held that muscular thigh. Stroking, feeling, memorising.

God, his lips were on mine last night... not even twenty-four hours ago.

This wasn't me.

I don't hop on the first chance to go out with a stranger. Someone I just met while on a date with another person. I wasn't a sleaze. With him, though. It felt right. Like we were meant to meet. To find each other.

I was still soaking in everything.

I met a man. A man who probably went beyond every imagination I could ever conjure up about a significant other.

Easy, tiger.

Yes, I met a man. We had a great time. The most mind-blowing date ever. Then, he took me away, and we had an even better time. But, there was ground to cover between having sex with a gorgeous, funny, intelligent, well-built man and... to whatever lay beyond that.

I had given him my number.

He didn't text yet.

"What did you do after?" Deep asked.

"Went back to my room. I had a bottle of Bacardi leftover from last sem. Miss B and I had a good time." I didn't have a bottle. I never stored alcohol in the dorms. That wasn't a risk I needed. These guys didn't need to know that, though.

"I think I understand what's happening here," Krishna said, and placed a large plate filled with chicken drumsticks.

Deep inched to the edge of the couch, picked one drumstick up and stuffed it in his mouth. "You can think?" he said around the flesh and masala splattered near his lips.

Krishna ignored him. "You're still stuck up on the mystery guy from Hyderabad you never tell us about."

I sighed.

I stood and went to the entertainment unit—fancy name for a couple of wooden slabs stuck together to hold our appliances—beneath the mounted second-hand flatscreen. I got to my knees and crouched low, my arm extending beyond my PlayStation and Deep's dusty Xbox.

When I joined them, this time with me on the floor on the opposite side, they were mid-chew with widened eyes set on me.

"Bro, I thought you were my date to the gym," Krishna said.

I balanced the greens on the rolling paper, my focus on not letting it spill on the hardwood. The table was perhaps the one purchase all three of us actually splurged on. "You guys want story time or not?"

A year ago, the thought of me sitting on the floor, rolling weed would've been so preposterous, I might have smacked myself for even thinking it. Now, I had nothing at stake. It didn't matter if I was high out of my mind in some corner of the world. There was nothing to prove to anyone. Nothing to fight for.

.

.

.

I was a mess on the floor.

My mouth was salivating so bad I seriously needed a bucket to collect all the drool. None of my body parts functioned the way they were supposed to. The colours around me swirled to combine into one giant spiral of vibrance that took my senses by fire. Rocks weighed me down in an ocean, my face just above the surface, gasping for air.

God, I was in poor condition.

But I felt euphoric, and this euphoria numbed all the sting.

"We never broke up." My voice didn't sound like my voice. It was scratchy, wet and so drained of emotion, it frightened me.

I couldn't tell if Krishna and Deep were even conscious. I knew I was losing mine in trickles. They were on the couch while I was sprawled on their floor. My only view of them being their spread out legs from under the table.

Krishna grunted. "You and mystery man from Hyderabad?" His condition wasn't all that different from mine.

"Mm. I can't move on because I don't even know if we're over or not."

"No. Wait wait." I saw Deep's feet move and then he was standing, but his energy failed him and he crashed back onto the couch. "Up hold. No, hold up. Do you guys tills... still talk?"

"No."

"Then, you're over, man."

But... I didn't want to be.

I still loved him, and I couldn't find the switch to turn it off. Maybe I didn't want to turn it off. Moving on was never a question. I knew I needed to get away from home for a while. It wasn't a permanent workaround. Go away, get some clarity, come back. That was the plan. Arya and I fought all the time. We fought, we gave each other the silent treatment, and then we apologised and moved past it. Just because it was taking longer this time didn't mean we meant nothing to each other anymore. I was still going back home. I would always go back home.

Then why was I fucking stoned on the floor with tears in my eyes?

I felt warmth blanket me from both sides. Krishna and Deep pushed the table aside, and they too slumped on the floor beside me.

"We were trying to help," Krishna said.

Deep snuggled in close, and tucked himself to my side, my stretched out arm acting as his pillow. His heavy breaths tickled the bare skin on my neck, but I was too drugged down to do anything about it. "You're always so alone. Or spaced out. It's like you get lost within yourself and we don't want you to be alone."

"But if you don't want us to meddle, we won't," Krishna added.

"It's okay if no one loves you, you know." Deep hitched his thigh higher on my waist.

"Thanks, man"

"We love you," he whispered. "I defo love you. No homo, though."

I wanted to laugh, but sobs were constricting my throat and all I could manage was a low-pitched squawk.

"What that dumb bitch is trying to say is—" On the other side, Krishna flung an arm over my chest, and I felt a crack in my sternum. "We're always here for you, bro. You got us. And we got you. We'll survive."

With both of them squeezing me like a stress ball, there was a chance I was not part of that we. But it felt nice being hugged. It felt nice not being alone for that one moment.