Until Forever Comes

by Jerry Cole

  “Hello?” Roman frowned.

  “Are you... are you Roman Nowak?” the man asked.

  Roman smiled to himself. “I am.”

  “Oh my God.” The woman clutched at her partner’s arm; Roman could see her nails literally digging into the man’s skin. “I knew it. I knew it – I am such a huge fan of yours! Like – you would not believe how big of a —”

  “Babe, you’re scaring him.” He winced as he pulled his arm free from her grip.

  “Oh!” Her eyes widened and she looked like she had just seen a ghost. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to – I just really am a fan.”

  “We both are,” her partner explained. “On our first date, we actually saw Terror-Cation.”

  “So, you’re the ones,” Roman joked.

  The two burst into laughter, as if it were the funniest of jokes ever made. “Truly though,” the young woman continued. “We often joke that your movies brought us together – for real!”

  “Movies?” Roman raised an amused eyebrow. “So, you didn’t just see the one and decide that’d be enough to last a lifetime?”

  Again, the two laughed in sync like the joke was hilarious. “God, no,” the young woman eventually managed. “We’ve seen them all. Death Drive. The Scorned Bride.”

  “Horror Next Door,” the young man pitched in.

  “Mmmhhhm, Horror Next Door,” the young woman agreed. “We never miss – in fact...” she sucked through her teeth, suddenly looking embarrassed. “We like to joke that your movies are the reason we’re together. After all this time!”

  “Oh.” Roman blinked, not sure what to say.

  “So naturally I have to kill you now!” The young man blurted jokingly, to which his partner cackled her laughter. “But really...” he sobered up just enough to manage a “Thank you.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Roman assured them. “Just ah... when you get married, send me an invite will you.” It had been a joke, clearly. Now Roman just hoped the two knew it was.

  It was rare, but every now and then a random fan would notice Roman in the crowd. As a director, he was rarely the center of attention, so when it did happen, he was more than happy to tolerate. Although at the same time... this couple was starting to push it.

  “So...” The conversation had dried up, but the young woman so clearly didn’t want it to end. “Tomorrow night. You must be excited – we have tickets! Oh, maybe we could all go to —”

  “And that’s our cue.” The young man wrapped his arm around his partner’s waist and dragged her from the table. “It was nice meeting you,” he said with full sincerity as he pulled her away.

  “So nice!” she shouted over his shoulder.

  “You too. Hope you enjoy the —” And they were gone before Roman could finish what he had been saying.

  It was a brief encounter, but the random couple stayed with Roman for the rest of the day, and well into the next. It was how happy they were together that had him thinking about them, how his movies had brought them together, how he was ultimately responsible for the happy ending that this random pair were going to achieve in their life... all because of him.

  Roman had long ago made peace with the idea that he was going to end up alone. That was just fact now as far as he was concerned. But seeing this couple... well, it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected.

  Consequently, Roman’s mood soured. And it stayed soured through to the next night. When he turned up for an early dinner at James and his wife Claire’s house, he was still moody. And when he saw how happy they were together, the way they fawned over the silliest of things, how they cooed over their twin babies, how they were genuinely in love in a way that Roman had never once experienced, it only made things worse.

  “Are you feeling Okay?” James asked just as they were getting ready to head to the premiere. “You look like you just found out that Tom Hanks is being accused of sexual assault or something.”

  “First of all, Tom Hanks is the nicest man on the planet and that will never happen. Ever. Why would you even say such a thing. And second... I’m fine. Just a little tired,” Roman lied.

  He barely even remembered the premiere that night. It was a mass of screaming fans, flashing cameras, paparazzi and journalists pulling him in for interviews and handshakes and silly little questions about the movie’s stars. There were also the obligatory ‘who are you here with’ questions that only proved to worsen Roman’s mood.

  And then, when the night was over and Roman was getting ready to duck from that theatre, disappear into his apartment and get thoroughly wasted, he spied that couple from the café. They were among the crowd, holding one another as they walked toward the exit. Just like the previous day, they looked as infatuated with one another as ever and again it seemed that Roman had helped strengthen the bonds of their relationship.

  “Roman!” It was James, hurrying after him. “Wait up!”

  “What’s up.” Roman hovered by the door, very much ready to leave.

  “Have you seen your agent?”

  “I’m avoiding him,” Roman joked. “The little shit is always a pain at premiers.”

  “Well, he’s looking for you – apparently Sony wants to meet tomorrow to discuss our next thing. But I can’t make it. The twins have this thing —”

  “It’s fine,” Roman waved him down. “I remember. You do that, I’ll go, and I guess I’ll tell you how it went.”

  “You’re a life saver.”

  It was the same old story. One job ended, and a new one begun. That project that he was meant to be meeting Sony about wasn’t even due to start pre-production for another two months. But Roman would go to the meeting, he’d sit through it and listen to what they had to say. After that he would head home and start working on the thing. Why not? And when he finished with that one, it would be another and another. Roman had nothing else going on in his life save for work, so he may as well throw everything he had at it.

  But a funny thing happened to Roman when he woke up the next morning. He just didn’t feel like working.

  It was strange as it had been so long since he’d felt this way, years in fact. But when he went to get out of bed, he couldn’t. Not for a few hours anyway. And once he was eventually up, he considered calling Sony to ask to push the meeting back, but then he thought ‘fuck it,’ and didn’t make the call. There were a dozen scripts on his laptop he was meant to be reading, but he ignored those. There were film reels he could have watched but didn’t want to. And there were edits he was meant to check in on but could not be bothered. All Roman wanted to do... was nothing.

  Roman spent the rest of the day lazing around the house, trapped in a state of relaxed limbo the likes of which he had never known. Really, the only problem with the day in general was his phone which kept on ringing. And when he turned that off, his emails started beeping at him from his laptop. Soon enough he was sure that the people he was ignoring would start hammering down his door to make sure he was alive. And that simply would not do.

  When Roman was younger, he was the embodiment of spontaneous and it was time he rediscovered this aspect of himself. By the time the day was over with, and the sun was setting, Roman was packing his suitcase – just the one suitcase as he liked to travel light – and heading for the airport. He didn’t even know where he wanted to go!

  But when he arrived at the airport, he saw that the next flight out was in two hours, to Bali, Indonesia. Roman had never been to Bali, even though he knew dozens of people who had. It was supposed to be the place to go if one wanted to relax and escape reality. Honestly, it sounded perfect.

  Roman hadn’t taken a holiday in over ten years. By his reasoning, he was well and truly overdue for one. So, without further hesitation, Roman approached the counter and bought a one-way ticket to Bali. When he would return, he had no idea. This alone made Roman feel more relaxed and surer of himself than he had in a long, long time. Maybe, Roman would never come back? That thought alone had him smiling.

&
nbsp; Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was nine thirty in the morning when Bryce woke up. By now, the sun was sitting reasonably high in the cloudless sky, shining right through the bedroom window and onto his face. Bryce groaned when he woke, and when he saw the time, he cursed at himself and rolled back onto his face in an effort to blot out the sun so that he could go back to sleep. He never liked to wake up earlier than ten o’clock in the morning if he could help it. What was the point?

  But after ten minutes of lying on his stomach, unable to fall back to sleep, Bryce gave up, let forth a tremendous yawn and pushed himself out of bed. As he did, he eyed the curtains that he had accidentally left open the previous night. He’d have to remember to close them properly tonight. This early rising thing simply would not do.

  On the plus side, now that he was up, he could spend a little longer drinking his coffee. Not that he ever rushed through it, but if he wanted to hit the beach by lunch, he at least needed to pretend to be in a hurry.

  A quick shower was all Bryce needed, followed by his throwing on of the same clothes he wore the previous day. These were just boardshorts, flip-flops and a white-linen button-down shirt that he rarely bothered doing up. From there he hustled from his villa, jumped on his scooter—his surfboard was already strapped to the side—and took off down the road toward his favorite café.

  The café was called Crate Café, and it made, in Bryce’s humble opinion, the best coffee in all of Bali. Fuck, it also made the best big breakfast too, but Bryce would never tell the chef that. In fact, he liked to pop his head into the kitchen after each breakfast and jokingly warn the chef that he was going to go somewhere else the next day, that hopefully doing so would see him get a better meal for a change. Of course, he never actually went anywhere else.

  “Boss!” Dewi, one of the baristas called out when he spotted Bryce strolling through the door and into the café. He was of Balinese decent; shorter with dark skin, black hair and a constant, over the top smile that shone white wherever he went. “You’re early. What is happening?”

  “Don’t remind me.” Bryce rolled his eyes as if he were upset. He then hustled across the café to his usual spot; it was a single chair and table, positioned right by the back, which also happened to be the best spot in the café for watching the surf. Oh yeah, Crate Café sat right by the water’s edge, over-looking the beach.

  “Usual, boss?” Dewi called out.

  “Tell Ketut not to burn the eggs this time!”

  Out the corner of his eye, Bryce saw Dewi chuckling to himself as he hustled to the kitchen. Bryce didn’t have a lot of friends in Bali, not close friends anyway. But he had plenty of people he was friendly with. From the surfers he hit the waves with most mornings, to the random café and restaurant owners and workers he saw nearly every other day and night, to the ex-pats who, like he, had decided to settle down in Bali rather than live in the real world. There was no shortage of people for Bryce to hang out and catch up with.

  Seeing as he’d woken up early that morning, Bryce had intended to chill in the café for a little longer than usual. But by the time his breakfast came out, Bryce could already see the waves picking up. From what he knew of this particular beach too, he would have about two hours until the swell dropped, and the water became un-surfable. So, he had to hurry.

  An hour surfing was all Bryce needed that day. By the time he was done, he could feel his stomach rumbling, so he jumped on his scooter and headed to a local bar called Old Man’s. There, he stopped in and chatted to the owner for a few minutes before sitting down at one of his usual spots, ordering his usual lunch and then just sitting back and watching the world go by.

  Bryce really did love his life at the moment. Fuck, how could he not?

  It had started five years ago, after Bryce was fired by Roman... actually, it was more like three years ago. The two years right after, were laden with depression and not much else. Bryce spent them in a sort of malaise, one where he just skulked around the apartment all day every day, doing little and caring even less. But then, one day he woke up and realized he was wasting his life. So, he moved to Bali.

  Why Bali? No real reason. He’d heard from several different people that it was a relaxing little island, perfect for disappearing from the real world. It was also close to Australia, easy to live in and warm all year round. What wasn’t to like?

  And so, Bryce moved himself to Bali. It started as a sort of extended holiday, and soon turned into a lifestyle. He’d sleep in every day, surf when he wanted, work out most days, go for long scooter rides, drink with the locals and just relax in general. He also started writing again, nothing crazy, just some short stories to get his creative juices flowing and to kill time. He was also reading everything, eating healthier than he ever had, and generally loving every aspect of his life.

  There was only one part of Bryce’s life that wasn’t completely fulfilled... but he tried not to let that worry him. Seeing as he was in Bali, there had been a few flings over the past couple years, but nothing serious. Mainly just because everyone he met came, and then went. But Bryce was also fine with this. He’d spent the first thirty-eight or so years of his life alone, so what was the rest, really?

  Truly, Bryce was happy. And when he finished eating his lunch at Old Man’s, he chose to stay put and relax for a little while longer. Again, there really was no hurry to be anywhere else.

  It was at exactly two in the afternoon that Bryce saw something... odd. Or maybe not odd, just familiar. He was sitting out the back of Old Man’s, a spot located literally on the sand facing the waves. For no particular reason, Bryce just enjoyed watching the world go by, the tourists especially. They were all so happy and exuberant, just glad to be on holiday in such a lovely location.

  There was a young couple that Bryce was focusing on. The woman was stunning, with her red hair shining under the sun and flowing in the wind, and the husband wasn’t half bad either. They walked hand-in-hand down the beach, away from Bryce, and right past --

  Bryce sat up straight. He narrowed his eyes and blinked a couple of times, as if this might help improve his vision. He was most likely imagining it, there was just no way... but down the end of the beach, standing near the happy couple and minding his own business was a man that looked very, very familiar to Bryce.

  He had his back to Bryce and was already starting to walk further away. But whoever he was, he walked and looked just like Roman Nowak. From his long black hair, to his pasty skin, to his skinny, frail body; the man was a spitting image of Roman.

  Bryce watched the man right up until he rounded a corner and was out of sight. Gone.

  A shake of the head and Bryce leaned back in his chair and... well, nothing. He wished he could have gone back to what he was doing, which was literally nothing. But that single sighting of a Roman look-alike had his heart beating and his mind racing. A part of him wanted to run out onto the sand and sprint down the beach after him. But common sense prevailed.

  The rest of that night, and the next morning was spent thinking about Roman, or more the possibility that the man Bryce saw was Roman. Furious that he hadn’t chased the guy, Bryce decided to have lunch at the exact same restaurant again... just in case. For that entire meal too, he kept his eyes peeled, searching for the Roman lookalike so that he could set his mind at ease. Unfortunately, he never showed.

  So, Bryce went back the next day, and the next. For four days straight, Bryce went to that same restaurant at that same time and sat in the same spot. And for two hours straight he watched the beach, scanning it up and down, back to front, desperate to be proven right, to realize that whoever that man was, it wasn’t Roman. Once he did that, he’d be able to get back to not worrying about anything.

  It was the fifth day when Bryce finally did see him, but not where he thought. It was late in the afternoon and Bryce was cruising home on his scooter. For no reason at all, he decided to take the tourist route home; the one that wove in-between all the stalls and random shops. It was a litt
le longer this way, but he had nowhere to be. And it was when Bryce was about half-way down the road that he glanced inside a store – not even one he recognized, he just felt the urge to look – and walking through the store without a care in the world was none other than Roman.

  Bryce nearly crashed his bike he was so shocked. When he did manage to get control, he didn’t pull over either. He just kept on cruising, more in a daze than anything. Roman Nowak was in Bali. Roman was in Bali. Roman was shopping in Bali not five minutes from where he lived!

  For a brief moment too – the briefest of moments -- Bryce considered continuing on home. No good ever came from seeing Roman. In another life, the man might have been “the one,” but their lives had never been able to sync up and it always led to heartache. Fuck, it had been six whole years. The odds were that he was now married and here with his partner. Surely, the last thing Roman wanted was to see Bryce, right?

  And yet... Bryce wanted to see him. If the last five days were anything to go off, Bryce wasn’t as happy as he claimed to be. His life was near perfect, if not for that one single thing he was missing. This might be his last chance.

  Bryce turned his scooter around and raced back to where he had seen Roman, but of course Roman had moved on by now. Bryce didn’t let that deter him. He was off his scooter – parking it in the first spot he found -- and hurrying down the sidewalk, shoving his head into every stall and shop he passed on the way. With each one too, his heart skipped a beat. The next one would have Roman. Then the next. Then the next.

  And there he was. The stall was one of those tiny little huts that was overstuffed with cheap singlets, boardshorts and baseball caps. Roman was the only person in there, tucked away at the very back, holding a red Bintang cap in his hand, looking at the thing like he actually meant to maybe buy it. It would have been cute if it weren’t so ridiculous.

  Everything about him screamed tourist. His skin was still bone white, despite the sun. His clothes were typical tourist clothes; a red Hawaii style shirt with bright blue boardshorts that were a size too big. And his hair was tied back in a bun, although the sides were still shaved down like usual.