“The rainy season began the day he died.”
They all said Jessie was the perfect substitute. I thought so too.
He and the other man are both musical theater actors. They keep me company at three in the morning when I can’t sleep, and their voices sound so much alike. They remember all my unreasonable preferences.
But no one knows that whenever he hears me talk about the game’s plot, his eyelashes tremble ever so slightly, like a butterfly dampened by rain.
Until I went through his things and discovered:
📱 His phone held 478 unsent drafts, all written in imitation of “that person”
💊 There was cancer medication hidden deep in a drawer. The prescription was in his older brother’s name
🎮 My favorite game seems to have been taken down
It turns out that in this rain,
we were all playing the leads in someone else’s story.
My older brother is such a good person, but I think I’ve let him down.
The game’s characters are forever stuck at the final chapter, with no new updates,
while the words I never sent still lie in my message box:
“Which of you three did I ever love?”
