Realization

I inserted the key into the black wooden door, twisted it, heard the click, then I twisted the knob, opening the door. Closing the door behind me, I took my shoes off and put them on the shelf before heading into Rachel’s house.

First thing I had to do was to check on her fish as I’d made my promise to take care of them. The automatic feeder’s drum was almost empty, so I reached into the cupboard for the fish pellet, removed the drum and refilled the food before I put it back on the feeder. It made a noise as if to show appreciation that I fed it.

I watched the guppies as they swam around in the tank. It was enviable to see them so carefree when I still had a project to finish and housework to be done, but at the same time, watching them chase each other around was calming enough to help me forget about the responsibility I would have to face.

After checking that the fish were doing fine, I texted Rachel to let her know as such. She, of course, didn’t respond. Probably because she was busy with her shoot.

Her schedule was too random for me to predict. One time, she said she’d just finished with her shoot thirty minutes before lunch, another time, she said she had to go back to her shoot at around sixteen o’clock, and the other time, she said that she was headed to the set at twenty-two o’clock. I guess a hectic schedule was one of the many parts she had to deal with as an actress. Time and weather were one of many important aspects for a well-shot scene, so obviously, they had to adjust the shoot schedule as such.

I was done with my task for the day, but it felt like a waste to go home immediately since I’d taken such a long twenty-minute trip here, so I decided to wander around her house. I’d already asked for her permission the first time I came over to fish-sit, and she said it was okay.

The first thing I did was to sit on the sofa and turn on the T.V. After flipping through the channels, nothing caught my attention as usual, so I turned it off. Even though I knew there would be nothing interesting on, I still turned it on by instinct; It felt weird for me to be in such a quiet place despite liking the silence. My house would always be filled with the muffled sound of reality shows all the way from the living room, and faint conversation between my parents that I never bothered to catch.

Letting my eyes wander since I was bored, they eventually landed on the jacket Rachel’d worn when she was in Run, Emilia Run. The jacket was an iconic part of Tracy, a character she played. It was a light-blue denim jacket with all kinds of patches on it, both front and back, giving the jacket a punk-rocker vibe that complemented Tracy’s rebellious nature.

The jacket wasn’t on display or anything. It was hung over a coat hanger, as if Rachel wore it every other day. I took it off the hanger and inspected it to see if I could wear it without damaging the clothes. Seeing that there was nothing that would cause what I feared, I decided to put it on.

It was too large for me. The sleeves covered my hands completely, and the hem, which was supposed to be around the hip, rested around my upper thigh. Despite the fact that the jacket didn’t fit me, wearing it made me feel like I could do anything. Perhaps wearing it imbued me with Tracy’s confidence and rebellious spirit, so I decided to wear it for a while longer because it felt nice to wear.

I moved to the kitchen. It was an average kitchen with white counters and top cupboards pressed up to the wall. The kitchen tools, such as knives, pots, pans and a kettle, were all kept clean and orderly in the open, while plates, bowls and utensils were put away in the counter’s cabinets.

Tracing my fingers along the wooden countertop reminded me of when she was cooking some kind of spaghetti while we were on a video call.

I checked the oven to see if she left them on. She didn’t, of course, and even if she did, I would’ve found it out two weeks ago. I then opened the fridge, and there wasn't any perishable food like meat or eggs or vegetables, only some juices, chocolates and ice creams.

Sitting at the dining table, I could see the whole kitchen set up. If I were to watch Rachel cook, I would probably watch her from here since I heard that people who liked to cook didn’t like it when someone was in the kitchen with them. I didn’t know much about cooking, but it would be fun to watch her work her magic, just like last time.

I then headed upstairs to Rachel’s room. It was cozy with her bed and nightstand to the right wall, facing the built-in closet and a shelf filled with books and souvenirs from her acting career. I fought the instinct to throw myself onto her bed and lie on it like a normal person would. The mattress shaped itself around me as I sank on it, as if welcoming me back.

Her bed was big. Even after I spread my limbs far and wide, no part of my body had gone over the mattress. How many people would be able to fit in this bed? I was sure that two people could fit in this, no doubt.

I rolled over on my side, hugged the side pillow, and took a big huff. I’d expected to say something like “It smells like her...” but honestly, it didn’t; the scent it took on was a faint flowery scent of the softener she’d used.

As I tightened my grip on the side pillow, I closed my eyes. If that night went differently, would it go like this? Holding onto Rachel as I lay next to her, feeling the sensation of her touch and body heat radiating into me as I slipped into a slumber. It would be nice if she told me goodnight and kissed me on my forehead.

A kiss...

Right. Rachel’d kissed me. Not only once but twice before she left.

I was too stunned to ask why she did what she did. No amount of adrenaline was enough to unfroze me as I watched her face turn red after she realized what she’d done while she stared back at me.

We didn’t talk about it after that. It was as if there was a silent agreement to never bring it up. Perhaps we knew that if we did, our relationship wouldn’t stay the same. But still, I wanted to kiss her again, this time more deeply, making sure that I could feel every millimeter of her lips with mine...

Stuck in my fantasy, I only now realized that I’d been nibbling the pillow.

This kind of thought... It wasn’t one I should have towards a friend. All my life, I’ve never imagined myself kissing Kayle, nor could I bring myself to, but with Rachel, I could, so vividly in fact, that I subconsciously acted out the scene as if I was doing it with her.

‘I...’

It was at this moment that I realized.

“I love Rachel...”