Where the Mountains Meet the Sea

by A. R. Breck

  Mr. Hyde made me realize that what I did to Luna probably affected her more than I thought. Not that I shouldn't have went on tour, I just handled it shitty. I wish I could go back. I wish I could take it all back. Maybe we'd still be together now if I would've done things differently. I'll never know.

  All I do know, is that I'm hoping one day our lives will realign again. I'm hoping that what we used to have is lying dormant somewhere, and our flame will be reignited one day.

  Toward the end of my stay at the treatment center, Mr. Hyde asked me the biggest question.

  What now?

  It played on in my mind for weeks. I could've tried to salvage our band, but after six months of treatment, the guys decided it was just best to retire our name. With that out of the picture, I didn't really have anything else to do in life.

  What could I do?

  I have no college degree, no desire to attend a university, live in a dorm, or try a damn community college by any means.

  I could find a job, work in a low-paying business that will bleed me dry.

  But I had no desire for any of that. I didn't want to go into something that could possibly sink me back into the black hole I've been living in.

  The day when Mr. Hyde came in with a stack of pamphlets and informational packets was a turning point for me. I was about to be released, and the fear of taking any steps backward was terrifying. The thought of living a normal life was terrifying.

  The thought of living a life without Luna has been terrifying. Every day. For who knows how long.

  I want her back, but if fate is as true as I think it is, we will be together again.

  I spent hours, days, going through those pamphlets. My mind landed on one. It was something I’ve never thought about before, but it's something where I could make a difference in life. Something that would keep me busy and out of trouble.

  Something that I could do that would help people.

  It was a small black and yellow pamphlet that spoke about a program with the FDNY, New York City Fire Department. Everything I needed to do could be done online. I could finish treatment and go through the courses at the same time. New York was where I wanted to end up, anyway, so I felt like it was just another piece of fate.

  Part of my destiny.

  I showed Mr. Hyde the packet the next day, and he helped me set up the courses I needed to take. It didn’t take long, and by the time I was awarded my firefighter certificate, I only had weeks left in treatment, and Mr. Hyde was able to land me a job at the FDNY.

  I start next week. I'm fucking nervous. I've never had an actual job. Going from high school to being a rock star, I know nothing in between.

  But I have to live my life. I have to be the best man I can be because the day when Luna comes back to me, I need to be ready.

  Not if she comes back to me. When. Because I know she will. I'll be ready. I'll be waiting.

  I can't fucking wait.

  The taxi pulls up to the airport, and I take my small bag and throw the driver some cash. Looking at the busy, chaotic Tampa airport in front of me, I take a breath, releasing all the stresses and the worry I’ve been hanging on to.

  I’m going to keep living the life Luna wanted us to have. I can feel her soul out there, out in the world. Missing mine. I know she aches as badly as I do. We’ve always been connected, maybe even before we met.

  There’s no doubt in my mind we’ll meet again. I’ll be able to look into her gray eyes and touch her black, silky hair.

  And when that time comes, I’m never letting her go again.

  It’s four hours later when the second taxi drops me off outside my new apartment. New to me, I suppose. This thing is old, built out of stones with so much historic architecture curving the tops and sides of the bricks.

  New York is… New York.

  Loud. Chaotic. So many different smells. So much traffic.

  My blood burns through my veins to think of Luna walking these streets, her ballet slippers slung over her shoulder. She’d walk down the sidewalk, people bumping into her left and right, cussing her out for being in their way.

  She wouldn’t even spare them a glance. She’s always in her own world. A dance playing in her head. Some note or tune vibrating from her lips as she hums along to the soundless song.

  Come home to me, Luna.

  I unzip the side pocket of my bag, pulling out my new key. The condo unit comes newly furnished, something my parents and Mr. Hyde coordinated for me. I head inside the high-rise unit, and people are bustling in and out, not sparing a glance at the next person as they bark into their cell phones.

  I walk through the entryway, my shoes clapping against the tiled floor as I walk to the elevator. It's about twenty floors high, each unit having their own balcony. I press the circular button with the up arrow, watching as it glows yellow. The elevator starts humming, and I look around as it descends to the main floor.

  Tiny little gray slotted mailboxes line an entire wall. The ceilings are tall, old. It smells a little like mildew in here, but not terribly so. Old building smell, I suppose. Everything is expensive in New York, mostly since this building is in the heart of the city.

  This place doesn’t seem unkempt, just old.

  The elevator dings, and the door rolls open. I step inside, and press floor eleven, watching as the doors glide shut behind me.

  Taking a deep breath, I feel as the elevator lurches, bringing me to my new home.

  I chose a one-bedroom unit, something small. I don't need anything huge, or luxurious. I just need some place that has a bed and a kitchen.

  The guys all ended up in different locations after we split. Lonnie stayed in California. He took over our apartment and started working at the record label. He loves it there. Flynn and Clyde went home to Wisconsin. I spoke to Flynn not too long ago, and things are going good back home. He says it looks just as we left it all those years ago. Flynn is working with his dad right now, trying to figure out what he wants to do next.

  Clyde, on the other hand, did start some classes at a community college. I hope it works out for him.

  The elevator dings again, and when the doors slide open, I step out onto the dark carpet, looking in both directions to see where I'm supposed to go. I decide to head left, watching as the units go up. Once I get to unit 124, I stop.

  This is it.

  Sticking my key in the lock, I turn it, listening as it clicks. Turning the knob, I open the door, walking into a brightly lit condo. Neutral tones and a balcony that looks out onto the entire city. Skyscraper after skyscraper line my window. The glass is floor to ceiling, bringing in sunlight and brightening the entire apartment. The ceilings are tall in the apartment, too. Crown moldings of a dark wood line the ceiling, and the dark wooden floors are worn but sturdy. A few scratches here and there, but still glossy and shiny.

  I bring my bag to the living room, walking over to the gray couch and settle in.

  There's no TV. Going to have to fix that.

  Unzipping my bag, I pull out my laptop, setting it on the glass coffee table in front of me. I told Mr. Hyde that I wouldn't obsess, that I wouldn't worry or head back down my dark path.

  But I have to check.

  I push the top of my laptop open, pressing the small button to turn it on.

  The screen lights up and I log in, heading straight toward my email. I use a neighbor’s internet that doesn’t have a password, knowing I'm going to have to get my own soon if I want something reliable.

  Heading straight to my email, I log on and click the inbox button. My email loads, hundreds of emails popping up. All unread. I've stayed away from the media and the press, knowing they're fucking vultures that will do anything to get a story out of you.

  I know what Brandy did. Lonnie told me how she sold out the entire story of my breakdown to the media, painting me in a bad light and making me look like a fucking douchebag drug addict. My manager says I should sue her for breaching her contract and the fucking non-disclosure that
's put in place for every worker to keep our lives discreet, but I didn't want the hassle. If she wants to be a bitch, then she can be a bitch. I'm done with her.

  I scroll down, looking only for one name. I scroll through all six months’ worth of emails, and go even a little longer, my heart sinking the further I go.

  Nothing.

  After all this time, she still hasn't reached out to me. It's been four years, and I haven't heard a peep from her. You’d think she would've reached out to at least say hello.

  Does she know that I've been in treatment for half of a year? Is she even okay?

  The thoughts and worry make sweat dot along my neck. I wipe it away, considering reaching out to her parents to see if they've heard from her.

  I don't do that, though, because I made a promise to Mr. Hyde. I need to give her space. I need to give her time. If our destinies are as aligned as I believe they are, she'll come back to me.

  She has to.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  LUNA

  2000

  I sit in the forest, taking a break from my work and eating a fresh avocado. These things here are delicious, growing to be the size of my head. No one understands how good actual fresh fruits are. Go to Hawaii, you can have anything you want. Double the size. Double the flavor.

  Juice dribbles down my lips, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

  I made it to Hawaii.

  I live in a small hut, almost like a cabin, with a ton of other people that are here for the same purpose. To live in paradise and not have to worry about the stresses around us.

  I get to live near the ocean, I get to live near the forest, I get to live near the mountains. I can choose to do anything that I want on any given day, and all it takes is a small trip and I can do what I want.

  I've made a few friends out here, but after what happened in Santa Cruz, I've mostly just kept to myself.

  The owners of the ranch are an older couple, Hawaiians that don't care too much for small talk. Most of the locals are the same here. They don't really care for tourists. They keep to their side of the island, and the tourists keep on the other side. The locals call it the other side of the world. I've traveled there once or twice, more out of curiosity than anything else.

  It's beautiful there. It's beautiful everywhere, actually. Chickens roam free throughout the land. I wake up in the mornings to them talking to each other, their clucking loud and off tune. It makes me smile, and I love waking up in the mornings to watch them roam around the island.

  I've only gotten in touch with my parents once since I got here. After I got off the plane, I walked here, worried that the job opportunity wouldn't even still be available. Luckily for me, they've been doing this for years, needing all the help they can get in the fields, in the gardens; anywhere they need help, we're put to work. Most of it is outside, full of manual labor that makes my body ache in places it's never ached before.

  But living here has rejuvenated me, and I finally feel a little bit alive again. Not fully, and a part of me doesn't know if I'll ever be whole again. But that's okay, because I'm learning to live again. Learning to be me. How can someone be unhappy while living for free in Hawaii? It's impossible.

  I think about Neil and Trish a lot. I'm not sure where they ended up, or what happened to Neil at the hospital. I also wonder what happened to Willie, as fleeting as my thoughts are, I hope he's okay, wherever he is.

  I drop the shell of the avocado, wiping my sticky hands on my legs. Standing up, I walk through the dense, green trees and back out into the field. I’ve been growing a lot of kale, cherry tomatoes, and papaya lately. But my absolute favorite place to be is in the flower garden. There's a peace in watching a flower bloom from absolutely nothing into something so pure and spectacular. Nurturing it from a seed, taking care of it over time, watching it blossom under the bright sun.

  There's absolutely nothing like it.

  It's almost the end of the day, and tomorrow there's a big festival at the other end of the world. The owners of the farm invited us, and since we're never actually invited to any local events, we jumped on it instantly.

  I wave to some of the other workers, kneeling down next to the vegetable garden. My knees turn brown in the dirt, and I slide on my gloves, going back to work.

  My eyes open to the sounds of clucking outside. My legs slide across my white sheets, and I plant my feet on the cool wooden floor, stretching my arms over my head. The owners expect us to be up with the sun. So of course, on a weekend, my body just automatically wants to get up when the first chicken of the day starts clucking.

  I slide on some shorts over my underwear and step outside, shielding my hand over my eyes as I watch the sun start to rise across the ocean. I head toward the beach, the sand cool against my feet after sitting under the dark sky all night. The tide has just lowered, so most of the sand is wet. Each footstep creates a footprint against the sand. I walk until the water covers my ankles, the cold waves crashing against my skin.

  It's beautiful here.

  How someone can feel so lost and so found is beyond me. This isn't home. It never has been, and unfortunately, it never will be. I know this, and I knew it the moment I stepped off the plane.

  The long plane ride from California to here was torturous. My mind couldn't get off the fact that Roman has a girlfriend. For all I know, they could be engaged by now. She could be pregnant.

  Just that thought alone makes my chest heave. My spine curls over in pain, my foot stepping forward on a particularly sharp rock as I catch myself from planting straight into the ocean.

  Everyone watched me on that plane. No matter how hard I tried to hide my face against the window or bury my head in my hands as I tried to quell my tears, they wouldn't stop. The agony in my chest was excruciating, and if I were to be honest, that pain hasn't really lessened over time.

  I’ve just grown numb.

  I know at some point I'll go home. This is just another pit stop in my life. Another place I'm trying to find myself. The thing is, I know there's nothing to be found. Since the day I left, I knew who I was, it's just taken a while for me to figure it out.

  I figure my time here must be coming close to the end. It's hard to leave a place this beautiful, though. Serene. Complete paradise. I've been living in my head for months, not having anyone to talk about things with.

  I've spoken with Nora once. My mom passed her email along to me, so I was able to make one and reached out to her. It was brief, and I know she wanted to know more, but to tell her about my journey over email didn't seem right.

  The water is cold this morning as it crashes against my ankles. The palm trees blow against the wind, my long hair flowing against my back and hitting my waist. I've barely cut it over the years, only trimming it when the ends grow frayed. I try to tell myself I don't keep it long because of him, but I know that's a lie.

  I do everything because of him. I breathe air into my lungs because of him. It doesn't matter if he's across the world or if he has a ring on someone else's finger. He might not be mine, but I'll always be his. We may not be together ever again. Maybe I'll end up alone for the rest of my life, but Roman Hall has a part of my soul, and I don't ever believe he'll give it back to me.

  I stay in the water until my feet are numb from the cold, then walk out, the sand sticking to the soles as I walk across the beach. I head back to my cabin, grabbing an avocado from a large basket sitting in front of the main house. This little area that I live and work in is smack-dab in the middle between where the tourists and the locals live. I call it the edge of the world, since I live neither on one side nor the other. There is a larger house, which is where the owners of the farm live, and they have small cabins and huts surrounding the main house, which are where all the workers sleep. Some end up bunking together, but I was lucky enough to end up in a one-bedroom cabin. The main house is almost hotel-like, with a kitchen and living area. Like a bed and breakfast of sorts.

  Behind the main house
and all the cabins, is the field where we work. None of us have to travel far, only feet from our house and we can begin our day.

  Since today is the weekend, I have the entire day to pass until the party over on the local’s side tonight.

  With my oversized avocado in hand, I walk through the field, making sure to not step on any fruits or vegetables that I’m working so hard to grow, and into the forest. I find my spot near the oversized tree, with a trunk so large it's as wide as four trees at home. The tree has changed over time, and now the bottom slopes toward the ground. As the earth settled and the roots shifted, it created a curved chair, perfect for me. I've found this is my favorite spot, shaded from the sun, still close enough that I can hear the waves of the ocean if I listen closely. It's a spot I've spent most of my free time. Thinking, talking, listening to the earth around me. It's my place.

  I settle in, slouching down and closing my eyes. The sides of the tree curl around me, and I burrow in, letting sleep take me once again.

  I wake up to the feeling of a tickle on my leg. I twitch, the avocado falling from my palm and rolling onto the ground with a thump. I sit up, looking down and see a huge centipede the size of my palm crawling around my ankle. It's thin, but the legs are long, each one slapping against my skin as it walks up my leg. It's dark brown with orangish legs, and as my eyes widen, I swear I see it look directly at me.

  Oh, shit.

  I scream, shaking my foot and getting up, running as quickly as I can out of the forest, completely forgetting about my avocado. I've seen them before, but I've never had one on me before. I've never touched one, and I've never fucking wanted to, either.

  I shiver the entire way out of the forest, slapping at my skin as a constant tickly feeling racks my spine.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. No, just no.

  Once I’m out of the forest, my body calms, although I still scratch and slap at my legs as I walk back through the field. Looking up at the sky, I see the sun tilting toward the west. Shit, I must have slept the entire morning away.