“If Winter Ends” by Bright Eyes. No, I don’t own Bright Eyes or Conor Oberst, contrarily to popular belief. ---

I dreamt of a fever,

one that would cure me of this cold, winter-set heart

With heat to melt these frozen tears burned with reasons as to carry on

Into these twisted months I plunge without a light to follow

But I swear that I would follow anything

just get me out of here

But you get six months to adapt

and you get two more to leave town

And in the event that you do adapt

we still might not want you around

But I fell for the promise of a life with a purpose

but I know that that's impossible now

And so I drink to stay warm and to kill selected memories

cause I just can't think anymore about that

or about her tonight

And I give myself three days to feel better or else I

swear I'll drive right off a fucking cliff

because if I can't learn to make myself feel better

how can I expect anyone else to give a shit?

and I scream for the sunlight

or a car to take me anywhere.

just get me passed this dead and eternal snow

cause I swear that I'm dying

Slowly, but it's happening

and if the perfect spring is waiting somewhere

just take me there

just take me there

just take me there

and say and lie to me and say and lie to me and say

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright

it's gonna be alright..

---

It was around 2am when Thomas finally came sliding from his roof, holding various liquor bottles he had bummed off from his mother.

- Tonight, he declared as he slipped inside the car, we’re gonna be runaways. Drunk runaways.

Nix tilted his head but didn’t look at Thomas, his calloused fingers softly tapping to the rhythm of the music playing. Runaway. That word always struck a sensitive chord in him, like an unknown force that played with his soul, tugging him to who-knows-where.

After a minute, he turned the contact key to head towards nowhere.

Thomas didn’t take notice of his best friend’s quiet behaviour. It was as normal as the sun rising up in the east, meaning that it didn’t make any sense but it had always been that way. He sighed with contentment. Finally, he had the opportunity to enjoy a night free of any constraint, with the sky as the limit.

He had broken up with his girlfriend the day before.

- Where do you want to go? Nix asked.

- Just ride through the city and we’ll see where we’ll land, Thomas replied, waving his hand carelessly out the window. Do you want some vodka? Or some martini?

- I’m driving, you dick. Wait ‘til we find a spot.

- What the fuck is amaretto?

- Some liquor people use in cooking, like in tiramisu or as a digestive. I don’t like it that much.

Thomas sniffed the bottle with a precautious air but the smell seemed to please him as he immediately swallowed several mouthfuls. The whole purpose of the alcohol was to get drunk anyway so who cared about the actual taste.

- Not soul-lifting but okay. Are we going to the beach? He suddenly asked in an excited tone.

Nix nodded then flicked the cigarette he was smoking out the window. The beach was where he always was by night. He didn’t like staying at home, the walls of his room tended to close in on himself and with lack of space and air, he couldn’t breathe.

Being asthmatic, it had always been a haunting thought, even though his aerosol was always in his side-pocket, like a gun, ready to be used.

Of course, smoking wasn’t really a smart thing to do in this case but Nix didn’t give a flying fuck about dying. What scared him was the way he could die.

---

Thomas fell face-down in the sand. Nix laughed then sprayed him with a splash of vodka. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the stars.

- This is real freedom, he sighed contentedly.

Nix continued to strum on his guitar, sitting on the hood of his car. He lifted dreamy eyes to the sky and let his fingers blindly play.

- Nix, don’t you think this is real freedom?

- Nah. Not really, he absently replied.

- Why? Thomas sat up, his hair full of sand. I mean.. This actually feels right for once.

- We would be free if we didn’t think of the fact of going to school tomorrow, of our parents worrying if we didn’t or how to earn money without bothering. You know, time, social status and all those petty troubles we have in our everyday life.

- I’m really too fucking drunk to care but I’m sure you’re right.

Thomas walked over to Nix who shifted to leave him a place on the hood. He glanced over to his friend. Contrarily to him, he had dark hair and was on the slim side. Thomas was blond and with a rather muscled build. Due to his illness, Nix never did any sports, not like it interested him anyway.

- You really are fucking skinny, Thomas said, poking his friend repeatedly in the ribs.

- I have a fast metabolism, Nix shrugged. Cut that out, I can’t play.

- Did you eat anything today?

Nix looked up for his guitar with a surprised look.

- No.. I don’t think so. I forgot.

- How can you forget to eat? Thomas exclaimed with a concerned look.

- I dunno.. Food disgusts me at the moment. It just seems as another way to tie me down to trivial habits.

- Like sleeping?

- I’m insomniac; it’s not the same thing. Sleep doesn’t seem to fit in my life pattern.

Nix watched his friend chug one of the half-empty bottles then hand it over to him. He gulped some mouthfuls, wondering why he didn’t feel as drunk as he should have. He looked down at the rest of the alcohol before finishing it. It stung in his throat before gliding smoothly to warm his stomach.

If it could only warm his heart. He laughed inwardly at how cliché that sounded.

- I think I’m gonna throw up.. Thomas muttered before puking on the other side of the car.

Nix wordlessly handed him a tissue paper to prevent him from wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Thomas crawled back on the hood and took up the martini bottle.

- What a spray. I’m clean to start the whole drunk act again.

- You shouldn’t.

- Don’t be a bitch. It’s not like I’m going to school tomorrow anyway.

- I’m not judging. Just think of the hangover you’ll have.

- When I’ve barfed, I rarely get a hangover, Thomas pointed out.

- True.

- Hey. We should drive away to the other side of the country, don’t you think? Like a road trip. I’ve got some money with me, we could have a blast!

He looked at his friend who was bearing his usual half-smile, like he had a happy secret he was the only one to know. Thomas often marvelled at this, wondering what made Nix smile that way. With uniquely his eyes, slowly creeping over to his mouth.

- Is that a yes? He finally demanded.

- Fucking hell, it’s a yes, Nix simply responded, tucking his guitar under his arm.

He cast a luminous glance over to the barely rising sun.

- I’ve got some money too.. He almost whispered. When the city lights will go off, I’ll be sober enough to be able to drive.

- Awesome! Thomas pranced around before chucking his watch off and throwing it in the sand. Let’s banish time and live according to our dreams.. or something cheesy like that.

He tossed the remainder of their alcohol to Nix so he could feast on the idea.