Makes Me Want To Write Indie Romance.

Makes me want to write indie romance. ♥️

Loving someone like that is like loving a star: you don’t mind if you burn, just so long as you get to burn with them.

Best Tardy, “Beware the Stars”

Just ran through Soulsilver with Chikorita and she’s a real queen, I’ll tell you what.

I’M DONE

Emptiness (The Earth and You)

Empty

is just a word

used to discribe

wine glasses,

gas tanks,

threats and compliments,

until you’re standing

in an empty room,

filled with

sunken-in couches,

photographs and leveled bookshelves

—and you,

for you are something.

Yet even

with places to dream,

tacked memories and worded worlds,

it’s still as empty

as silence:

you fill the room

like noise fills a soundless void,

and you realize

that the earth

feels the same as you

to this room,

hung up

in the vast distances of

space.

~King Best

*NEW NOVEL* “Imaginary Friends” Preview Prologue + Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

The World at the Bottom of the Well

If there is such a thing as a happy ending, then the tale of Adrian Carter and Easton West concluded in the happiest way it could: with both men laying parallel on a hill underneath a cherry tree, their hands interlocked as they finally felt each other as they’d so longed for ever since Adrian had moved into Easton’s home that fateful day twenty-two years ago. There was no breeze to ruffle their hair. No sky to stare aimlessly into. No sound but the steady sloshing of water. This was a world ripped apart.

Now no one is quite sure how exactly this miraculous phenomenon came to be, and no one is quite certain whether it was real in the first place or if it was just the imagination of two young boys that never aged out of existence, but it’s neither important how it came to be nor why, as the experience that drove these two insatiable souls together was a heartbeat between truth and fiction. One could call it fate; another may call it a flaw in the fabric of reality itself. But to say they were star-crossed would be a drastic understatement, as they were crossed in much greater ways than that of just stars. For there was never such a tale of unjust heartbreak in the way of these two men—or at least not one yet known.

As they lay there in the grey in-between, the color fading quickly from their shimmering cheeks, fingers laced together for the first and last time, they were already starting to erase from the memories of everyone they had ever loved, save one. There would never be a soul alive that would utter either name nor recall a single trait about them. No one would tell the story of the two men who ripped apart the universe for each other just to break themselves the second they made contact. But you, my friend, will carry them with you and tell the unfathomable tale of the imaginary friends who left their lives to die together in the world at the bottom of the well.

ACT I: A STRANGE COEXISTENCE

CHAPTER ONE

Easton Makes a Friend

September 4th, 1999

Our story begins in a wheat field just half a mile away from the West House and four miles out of the late Urbina, Oklahoma. Urbina was only three minutes from Altus and was such a minuscule town that many would’ve forgotten it even existed if not for the fact it was home to Oklahoma’s smallest university. But there was one other unique feature about Urbina that made it stand out and that was that it got twice as much rain per year as the rest of the state. How was this possible, you ask? All in good time. But this was a major clue to the event that was about to transpire for five-year-old Easton, who was playing in the wheat field by himself when he heard a small crunching noise. He did not know what it was, but his older brother, Leon, had warned him to steer clear of any animals he might find out there. Easton tensed, biting his lip in quiet fear. He had only just grasped the concept of death a month ago when the neon tetras his mother had bought him died from overfeeding and the thought of leaving the world the way that his fish had was mighty terrifying. The noise seemed to be drawing closer to him, but only in saunter footsteps. Easton immediately relaxed, as it was probably just Leon come to fetch him. Imagine his surprise when he found another boy, black hair, brown skin, and wide red eyes, standing there blankly in an off-kilter pair of overalls.

“Hi,” said the boy. “Who are you?”

Easton was taken aback. Where had this boy come from? There wasn’t another house around for miles. “I’m Easton,” he replied. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Adrian,” said the boy proudly. “I just moved here from Kentucky.”

“Where’s that?”

“I dunno.”

“Oh. Well, do you wanna play with me?”

“What’re you playing?”

“I’m gathering up all the roly-polies I can find. You can do it too.”

“What’re we gonna do with ‘em?”

“Put them in a jar to make sure they don’t die.”

“Are we gonna share the jar?”

“We can.”

“Okay. I’ll play.”

And as simple as that, Easton and Adrian became friends. Young children are often that way. They spent the next thirty minutes gathering up roly-polies and pocketing them before heading off to find a jar to put them in. They found two in the old black barn that bordered the woods around the West estate. After they’d finished encapsulating the roly-polies and Easton had shown Adrian how to poke holes in the lid, the two young boys began climbing hay barrels and jumping off them, pretending to be pterodactyls on the hunt for a meal. Not realizing it was beginning to rain, they did this until Easton heard his brother call him home.

“I gotta go,” he said to his new friend. “It’s dinnertime.”

Adrian scratched his forehead. “Oh. Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Easton toddled off back to his house where Leon and his mother were waiting for him on the front porch. The young boy shook the water out of his hair while his brother handed him a plate. The West family sat on the porch and ate together, watching as the rain grew from a drizzle to a storm. Easton was going to tell them about the new friend he’d made who was moving somewhere nearby, but they both looked very tired and neither seemed apt to converse at the present, so he didn’t bother. Eventually, Leon rolled their mother back inside when the storm became too great and Easton followed, hoping that Adrian had made it home safely before switching on the TV and finishing dinner with his family in the living room. Forty-seven minutes later, Leon helped their mother into bed. She turned on her side after kissing them both good night. Easton walked upstairs to brush his teeth. When he got out of the bathroom he walked past the door to the attic. Nearly everything in their large farmhouse was old and creaky, so it racked up a fair number of unsettling feelings within Easton when he walked by it. He’d once had a nightmare about going into the attic, only for the floor to give way and for him to fall into the open mouth of a hideous monster that looked like a fuzzy shark. Once he’d scurried away and shut the door to his room, Easton got ready for story time.

Or at least he intended to. For when he hurriedly closed himself into the second bedroom at the end of the hall, Easton realized that he wasn’t alone. Sitting on the floor, looking just as perplexed as he was, was his new friend Adrian.

“What’re you doing in my room?” both boys asked at the same time.

#

March 28th, 2010

Roughly ten years later, Easton was resting high on a branch, hidden within the lilac petals of the old cherry tree in the backyard. His eyes were transfixed on the book in his hand, A Separate Peace. Beside him, on a slightly lower branch, Adrian hung upside down, earbuds in, glued to his phone. After reaching the end of a paragraph, Easton quietly rested the book upon his lap and chewed his lip for a moment.

“Adrian,” he said. When there was no response, Easton waved his hand wildly to grab his friend’s attention. “Adrian!”

Adrian took out the left earbud and curled his head upwards. “What?”

“Do you think we’re like the characters in this book? Phineas and Gene?”

“Depends. Which one am I?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“Well I’m not dead, so I’d say no.”

“Fair enough.”

“Actually, I think we’re more like the characters in this show I’m watching.”

“What show?”

“Come down and watch.”

Easton placed his book back with the other classics he had tightly sealed in Ziploc bags inside the hollow of the cherry tree. He carefully clambered onto Adrian’s branch and joined him upside down.

“I don’t get how you can stay like this,” he said. “Doesn’t all the blood rush to your head?”

“Nope,” replied Adrian, his face beet red. “Okay, check this out. I put the captions on. It’s called Pushing Daisies. Look at this, it’s beautiful. Fantastic cinematography and dialogue. Also, Lee Pace and Kristin Chenowith.”

“What, is this a musical?”

“Sometimes. I guess maybe you should probably listen to it. Here, I’ll take my earbuds out.”

“Nah, you don’t gotta do that. I’ll just watch it when Leon gets home.”

“Locked you out again, huh?”

“Sometimes I think he does it on purpose.”

“Leon wouldn’t do that.”

“I know. It just feels like it is all. He’s so busy working all the time and I’m not. I just kinda feel like he’s punishing me, and I know he isn’t, so maybe I feel like I need to be punished for being so useless.”

“Well, you are pretty useless.”

“Thanks, A.D.”

“No, but seriously—here let me pause this.” Adrian turned off his phone, then rocked his body back and forth like a pendulum before hopping upright onto the branch. Easton did the same, but it took him longer as he was not as physically fit as his friend. Once they were both up, Adrian continued, “Seriously, you put so much weight on yourself for things you don’t have control over. It’s been bummin’ me out seeing you like this. You used to be so carefree.”

“No, that was you,” Easton countered.

“And you. Listen, you can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened. If you keep doing that, there’s gonna be nothing left of you but self-loathing and ash. You’re like a fire that won’t let himself blaze because he’s too afraid of seeing the world burn. Well, guess what buddy: since the day it began, the world’s been burning and nothing yet has stopped it turning.”

Easton gave a nod. “I like that. That little rhyming thing you did there. That was good.”

Adrian rolled his eyes. “Ugh. If you’re not going to listen to me, I’m just gonna go back to watching my show.” He positioned himself to flip down again, but Easton placed a hand next to his knee to stop him.

“No, I’ll listen.” Easton looked at his friend with apologetic eyes. “I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Good, because I only ever get this deep with you and if you let it go to waste, I might not talk to you for the next week.”

“I’m calling your bluff.”

“Ha! You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Correction: I do know you. I know you better than your own family, and I also know more of what you’re capable of than even you do. You’d get lonely on the second day and chase me down after soccer practice to suggest we get make up churros. I could probably even time it down to the minute.”

Adrian narrowed his eyes. “You think you know everything about me—”

“I’ve also seen your penis.”

“Alright! I’m taking the emergency exit out of this conversation now. Goodbye.”

The taller boy jumped from the tree and landed effortlessly on the grass below. Easton chuckled and climbed down, jogging up to his friend and swinging around in front of him, a big goofy grin on his face. “I’m only teasing, ya dumbass.”

Adrian grinned back. “Fuck you. Let’s go get some churros.”

#

When the boys returned, churros in hand, Leon’s truck was parked on the gravel driveway. It was already dark and, according to Easton’s watch, an hour later than his brother should have been back.

“Leon’s home,” Easton muttered. “I bet he was with Kathy again…”

“Why do you hate her so much?” Adrian asked. “She’s nice.”

The former rolled his eyes. “Sure, maybe in your world she is, but not when she’s around Leon. Worst. Girlfriend. Ever.”

“Oh, speaking of girlfriends, did I tell you Lisa Winter asked me out today?”

“Lisa Winter? Really? Are you guys gonna get pinned?”

“Ah, shut up. No, but she’s nice. Cute.”

“Yeah, well, during fourth period I saw Lisa pass a love note to Frank Dane like a little girl. She’d drawn hearts all over it.”

“Frank Dane? I wonder what bizarre events must’ve occurred to make that attraction happen.”

“Dunno. So, are you gonna go steady with her?”

“Are you trying to get me to sing Bye Bye Birdie?”

“Maybe.”

“Look, I haven’t decided yet. I just don’t know her too well.”

Easton frowned. “Let’s go inside.”

Adrian cocked his head. “What’s wrong, Easty?”

“Nothing. You comin’?”

“Nah. I’ll stay out here for a while. Might go for a run.”

“See ya then.”

“Wanna watch Pushing Daisies when I get back? I’m telling you, you’ll like it.”

“Okay.”

Easton scarfed down the rest of his churro as he walked up the steps of his farmhouse and went inside. He took off his shoes and jacket. From the kitchen he could hear Leon frying something delicious smelling, so he ventured towards the sizzling. He sat down at the dining room table and sighed.

“Oh, hey,” Leon said, turning to Easton from the stove. “I didn’t hear you come in. Is Adrian with you?”

Easton rested his chin on the table. “No, he went for a run.”

“Oh. Well, I hope he comes home soon. There’s supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight and I don’t want his dad to worry.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s not allowed to die without my permission.”

“Ha. I guess if you put it that way. Want some sausage?”

Easton narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Are you taunting me?”

“Only if you think I am.”

“How was Kathy’s?” Easton redirected.

Leon took the pan off the stove and dumped the sausage and grease onto a napkinned plate. “What makes you think I went to Kathy’s?”

“Because you were an hour late and you have blue lipstick on your neck.”

“Are you serious?” Leon stepped away and examined his reflection on the microwave. “What? No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, but I got my answer.” Easton stood up, took a fork from the utensils drawer, and snagged himself a strip of fried sausage while his older brother was fixing his collar. “I’m gonna go to my room.” Easton paused. “Unless you need my help with anything?”

Leon shook his head. “I’ve got it all handled. I’m just going to make sure Keanu Reeves is inside before the rain hits. Thanks though.”

“No problem,” Easton replied hollowly, before heading out of the kitchen. “Night, Leon.”

“Night, Easton.”

Deflating with every step, Easton walked upstairs and through the attic door to his room. Once inside, he slipped out of the rest of his clothes and into a white shirt and pair of boxers. The red-haired boy flopped onto his bed and started slowly biting away at the sausage, gazing blankly at the ceiling as his thoughts devoured him. Eventually, rain started to patter down on the round window next to him, sloshing against the pane so that it muddied his view of the outside. He closed the curtains, curled atop his covers, sighed again, and stared at the hairs on his arm before closing his eyes.

Thirty minutes later, Easton heard the door open and close. He looked up to see a dripping Adrian shaking his hair out, soaked to the bone. He was beaming. Easton couldn’t help but give a short nostril laugh before rolling over to the other side. A flash of light came through the translucent curtains, followed by a great roll of thunder. Adrian sat on his bed across the room, wringing out his clothes. Easton knew this without even looking.

“God, I love racing in the rain,” Adrian said.

“You’re like that dog,” Easton muttered back.

“What’s that?” Adrian asked, standing up and walking to him.

“It’s a book. The Art of Racing in the Rain.”

“Okay, but I didn’t hear the first part.”

“Put your hearing aid in then.”

Adrian frowned. “Jeez, what’s your problem? You got a stick up your ass or something?”

Easton rolled back over and gave Adrian a stern face. “You’re gonna warp the floors if you don’t put down a towel.”

“What’s it to you?”

“It isn’t. Just…whatever.” He promptly rolled back over again.

“Easty, come on.” When Easton didn’t respond, Adrian walked over to the bathroom by his bed and took out a towel. He wiped up all the water, changed into fresh clothes, then returned to his friend. “There, it’s all clean, okay? Come on, just talk to me. You’re acting like a hormonal fifteen-year-old.”

“Most indubitably,” Easton replied, then turned over once again to find Adrian on the ground, pouting up at him. “No, don’t…I want to be mad right now…”

“You don’t want me to do dis?” Adrian started rolling back and forth. “You don’t want to do da cute kitty face?”

“God, you are so weird!” Easton laughed. He threw a pillow at his friend but missed. “Just let me be a butt, ya stupid ass!”

“ ‘Fraid not. In fact…” Adrian got up and took out his phone. He connected it to the aux cable next to his stereo and started shuffling through his music library to find the song.

“Don’t you dare—” Easton attempted to object, but the song had started, and he couldn’t help but slap himself in the forehead. “Goddammit A.D.”

Adrian started singing, followed by Easton.

“Istanbul was Constantinople—”

“Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople—”

“Been a long time gone, Oh Constantinople—”

“Now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night!”

And, thus they began to dance their usual routine to this song—Adrian holding his phone tightly in his hand as they did so—for there is not a person alive with a soul that doesn’t have some sort of dance associated with “Istanbul” by They Might Be Giants. It was all rather silly and embarrassing, but who cares about appearances when you’re with the person you love? If you can’t stand in a crowd with your best friend and be absolute fools together, then it certainly isn’t meant to be. And while Easton and Adrian were meant to be (if there was ever such an example of that), that didn’t mean that these two could stand in a crowd together, however much they wanted to.

But as they sat on the floor, hands almost touching, watching Pushing Daisies on Adrian’s laptop while the outside world roared, Easton felt a bleeding mix of bliss and despair, unsure of what to say to Adrian when the time finally came, while Adrian had long since come to the conclusion that the words he wanted to tell Easton were so painstakingly obviously, they were better left unsaid. Even if those three words had been used to death by society, they still held importance to them. And though they knew each other in and out, both boys were afraid to open that door, for fear of the pain it would bring in a situation as hopeless as their own.

#

September 4th, 1999

Five-year-old Easton ran from his room and found Leon sitting in the armchair downstairs. He tugged on his brother’s shoulder, who looked down at him with sleepy eyes.

“I’ll be upstairs in a second,” he said.

“There’s a boy in my room!” Easton replied.

“What?” Leon repeated, this time with confusion.

“There’s a boy in my room!” Easton said again. “Come look!”

He grabbed his brother’s hand and led him upstairs in a hurry. Leon was quite bewildered by this statement until he opened the door to his younger brother’s bedroom. Easton gestured to Adrian, who was looking quite perplexed as well. However, once the door was open and Leon saw where Easton was indicating, he understood immediately. For what he saw before him was not another young boy with black hair, brown skin, and red eyes, but empty space.

“Oh,” he said. “You’ve made an imaginary friend.”

“Huh?” said young Easton. “But he’s right there!”

“Who’re you talking to?” asked Adrian, who could not see Leon either.

Easton looked from his brother to the boy he’d just befriended, then from the boy he’d just befriend to his brother and swallowed. He could not fathom just yet what was going on, though he would in time. And that was the exact moment, my friend, that began the strange coexistence of Easton West and Adrian Carter.

Author: @besttardywrites (Best Tardy)

From a photo shoot at Art is Life Studio in 2016, which I used to work at! If you’re in the Dallas area, you don’t want to miss out on Jenice’s Photography!

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