The Redhead Next Door

Both of the men walk up the two-story apartment structure and reach Fausto's house door. He reaches for his pocket to scrounge for his keys but it takes him awhile to find them. "Oh no, don't tell me, I lost my keys somewhere...", Fausto says in a drunken frustration. Paul looks at him annoyed but doesn't say anything, he just patiently waits for Fausto to look for his key.

"Hehe it's not in that pocket... maybe it's in dis one",chuckles Fausto. Paul begins to notice that he is actually having a hard time finding his key and asks him,"Do you need some help Faust?" Fausto turns around and looks at him with a smile, "Is this a confession Paulie? Are you just trying to get your hands inside of my pants?"

"Fausto!", calls someone out.

Both Fausto and Paul get startled. "Jeez Alora, don't you know what time it is?! Don't you know I was just about to get lucky? With this lovely man of the night", exclaims Fausto. Paul looks over and it's Fausto's next door neighbor, a tall red-headed girl with pale skin. She is just wearing a light blue nightgown that sways gently against the night breeze. The woman looks over to Paul and back at Fausto. Paul's face immediately turns red from embarrassment but judging by her reaction she knows how Fausto acts when he is under the influence. "Did you lock yourself out again?", calls out Alora as she stands at the front of her door.

"No, not at all!", mockingly says Fausto, "you should probably go inside... don't gingers sunburn easy?" Alora quickly replies, "It's 2 in the mornin'."

"Like I said, don't you sunburn easy?" , repeats Fausto. Alora looks over to Paul, "Are you, Rachel's replacement?"

Paul sheepishly says, "I'm a guy."

"Like I said are you her replacement?", repeats Alora. Fausto quickly butts in, " That's Paul, one of my closest friends since middle school!"

"Whatever, I've never met him before, nice to meet you. I'm Alora."

"I'm Paul."

There is Awkward silence in the air.

"So Paul... would you like to come into my apartment? Fausto coming into my home when he's this drunk is a normal thing. He's always losing his damn keys, so it's either I let him sleep out here in the cold and possibly get robbed by the bums or just let him sleep in my place. I would let him just stay out here but my conscience wouldn't let me", says Alora.

"Are you sure it's ok?", ask Paul,"I think it would be better if I just went home"

"Oh come on Paulie my man, you said you would stay over at my place. Plus who's going to help me kill this 12 pack and that nasty strawberry drink?", insists Fausto. "Yeah I said I was going to stay at your place, not hers", says Paul. "See, I told you, you're afraid of girls", says Faust while giggling.

"I'm sure Alora would help you", said Paul. "She don't drink Paulie!", yells out Fausto. With a soft smile, Alora looks at Paul and says, "Yeah, I don't like to drink... Paulie." "See she doesn't drink. Come on Paulie, you're the only one I can depend on in my time of need", sadly says Fausto. Paul doesn't know how to react considering he was put on the spot. The truth was that he was just going to wait for Fausto to pass out so he can return home but now he has the opportunity to stay at a pretty girls apartment. However, he is deathly afraid of talking to girls.

"It's cold, just come in and you can leave in the morning", said Alora. She invites both of them in her apartment and the first thing Fausto does is violently throws himself on Alora's Couch, nearly breaking it and yells out, "Where is the beer?!"

Alora says to him, "Please be quiet. It's so early in the morning, you might wake up all of our neighbors." Fausto has a bit of an embarrassed look on his face and apologizes, "Sorry, it's been awhile since I've hung out with you. You know, it makes me happy." Alora looks at him and doesn't share the same sentiment, "I'm not going anywhere Fausto, I live right next door to you."

"I know but, b-but-", Fausto says as tears to start to roll down his face. "Aw man don't cry", says Paul. Despite Paul trying to comfort Fausto, his crying becomes a slow sob, with snot and a little bit of drool. Paul gets a little disgusted but he still tries to be there for his friend. "I just don't want any of you to go away... It feels like these days, all I ever seem to do is just make people hate me", confesses Fausto.

"We don't hate you Fausto. We just preferred if every time we hung out you, you weren't sloshed," says Alora.

"Can we please forget about it? Can I just get my beer?", asks Fausto. "Are you sure you still want to drink?", asks Paul. "Yes please. I think i'm starting to get sober..."

Alora says to Fausto, "I think it's good that you are starting to sober up, you should probably not drink anymore, Fausto, because then, you get like this."

"Like what? This is who I am, it someone who rarely comes out. You know how hard it is to be normal when I'm sober? So please just give me my beer", angrily says Fausto. "Alora?", says Paul. Alora turns to look at Paul and he notices that she has an upset look on her face. "I think it's better if we just gave it to him, he is going to keep on bugging us" , Paul continues.

Alora looks at him like she is also disappointed at Paul. Regardless, Paul hands him a beer and Fausto changes his expression to complete happiness," Thank you Paul, I know you'd understand how hard it can be..."

Time flies by and one beer turns into three beers and then six beers. Then suddenly, as it his three in the early morning, the whole 12 pack is gone. The whole time, Alora is wondering why she let Fausto into her home. Although, Paul had to help Fausto with the drinking, he isn't really that drunk just really sleepy.

"You know, Paul. Back when we were in college, we tried to drink as much as we can, me and Fausto", said Alora. "But I don't know, when I got a bit older I guess I didn't find drinking that fun anymore", she continues.

"How much is a bit older?", Paul asks.

"I started to drink when I was 21 but then I stopped when I turned 23", Alora answers. Paul chuckles a little and Alora questions him with a hint of embarrassment, " What? What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, don't worry", Paul says through his laughing. "No what's so funny, Paul", says Alora.

Alora's pale, freckled face begins to blush up because she doesn't know why Paul is laughing at her. "Don't worry it's not something serious", says Paul. "It's just that you're saying you got older within two years. I think you haven't really gotten a chance to enjoy your youth."

"There's other things to enjoy about youth than getting blackout drunk", replies Alora. "Sure but it's little freedoms like that you can only enjoy when you're young because when you get old like us, it becomes a problem", says Paul.

"That's not true. I think even when you're young it's still problem. I mean look at Fausto", Alora says as she points at him happily sleeping. "Back when we were young he would want to drink every weekend. At first I was like "Hell Yeah" but I started to really think about it and I didn't want to become those people that only look forward to the weekends, you know? But he would always tell me to drink with him, even when I told him I didn't want to drink anymore. I mean he was one of my best friends but I just didn't want to deal with him anymore... I guess Rachel also didn't want to deal with it", said Alora. "Did you ever meet her?"

"No, but I would have to hear his problems with her whenever we'd go out to drink after work", said Paul. "Oh so, you go to work with him, that's weird I'd imagine you would've met her once", says Alora. "Yeah you would think so but no. All the times where I would've gotten a chance to meet her, she was busy with something and couldn't make it", says Paul. Alora sighs at says, "Well at least you met me, what do you two do for a living?"

"Did Fausto never tell you?", asks Paul

"No, strangely enough, he kept his private life, well, private", say Alora.

"Oh... We work at the pier, as dockers. The people who transfer shipments from in-country", says Paul.

"So he never became a poet then ,huh?", asks Alora.

"A poet? He never told me he wanted to be a poet.Quite frankly, I thought his dialect was bad", said Paul. "Yeah it's pretty bad but he did go to school for it. It sucks that he ended up as a dock worker", replies Alora.

"Sucks! I think my job is quite respectable", sarcastically answers Paul. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like that. I'm just saying it sucks for him. He didn't get to follow his dream and now he's this. I thought he was an okay poet too", clarifies Alora.

Alora takes a look at Fausto sleeping with a smile on his face and feels some sort of sadness for him. After having his fiancée leave him, of course the guy will try to drink himself to death but its not a normal sadness. It's hard to tell between the difference of being sad or being angry with yourself. Two powerful emotions that are different but both bring suffering into the soul. For a second, Alora thinks to herself if Fausto will remain this way for the rest of his life.

In the middle of her thinking, with a yawn, Paul gets up says that he is leaving. "I thought you were going to stay over?", asks Alora. "No of course not, I just told Fausto that because he gets lonely when he's this drunk. I want to sleep in my own bed tonight", Paul says with tired eyes. "I understand, I should probably go to sleep too", yawns Alora.

As Paul opens the door he turns and tells her, "That's probably for the best, and please Alora. Take care of him and watch out for his puke in the morning."

"I will", answers Alora.

"It was nice meeting you", warmly says Paul.

Paul closes the door and Alora looks over to Fausto completely crashed out in the bed. She says to herself, "If you throw up on my couch again, I'm going to punch you in the eye."

"Poem of the Moonlight"

The end of the day,

its easy to say the first are the hardest.

I yearn for the time I've spent with my familiars, the moments where there was no worry of the day after. The time I felt invincible, like I can take on any disaster.

Maybe a paper here or a speech next week.

But life isn't always about having fun, when I return to my true home, it no longer feels like it's where memories are made.

Instead it's a place to rest for the next day.

No one to greet me, no one to see me breathe.

But I can't tell if I prefer it this way.

For where I spend time grinding my bones is my only time for relaxation.

I miss having a more simple, quiet life because truth be told, it has become too silent.

It's hard to distinguish between being alive or dead. But maybe I prefer shaking hands with death, being alive is being lost by yourself in a dune waiting for doom.

Death is like being asleep under the moonlight, being caressed by nothingness.

-Fausto Merlo