A Caged Bird

Jacques sat at his desk, the glow of a small desk lamp casting shadows on the stacks of books and printed documents surrounding him. His eyes scanned the lines of text, filled with codes and laws, but none of it seemed to stick. The words blurred together into meaningless jargon. 

Instead of focusing, his mind wandered to the confined interior of a trooper pod, one that belonged to Solon, the space aviator he had met at the spacecraft festival. Solon and him shared the same dream of adventure and exploration, of breaking free from the mundane and discovering what lay beyond the edge of the known universe.

"Come on, Jacques , let me take you among the stars. But don't tell anyone, okay?" Solon said with a grin.

Jacques still remembered his heart pounding with excitement when the trooper pod pierced through Alaya's atmosphere. In that moment, the only things that existed were the stars and the vastness of the universe.

No matter how hard he tried, his mind kept wandering to the place he wanted to be more than anything. But then he forced himself to wrap it up and push it all away, because he was here—for Charles. He was Charles's buddy. If he didn't try hard enough, he would only drag Charles down. The thought of being the wrong person in Charles's life was a blow to his ego.

He didn't want Charles to replace him or stop this buddy system they had. If that happened, the instructor would definitely pair Charles with someone else, and Jacques would have to move out since they'd no longer be roommates. Jacques couldn't bear that thought. He wanted to see Charles every day. His presence had become a habit—one that was incredibly difficult to let go of.

Now, sitting at his desk with the heavy curtain drawn tightly against the outside world, Jacques felt suffocated. He glanced at the curtain that Charles always insisted on leaving open. Beyond it was the sky he used to admire, but Jacques didn't want to see it anymore, so he always closed it tightly again.

He noticed a small ray of light from the setting sun slipping through the gap in the curtain. Jacques reached for the fabric and tugged it tighter, as if determined to seal himself away from the temptation of freedom.

"No. No. That was just a childish dream," Jacques muttered to himself. "This is what's real—my future in the police department with Charles."

But then a darker thought crept in. Was this worth it? Was he worth it?

His hands fell to his lap, his gaze fixed on the desk in front of him. The pages were filled with tiny letters and paragraphs full of hard words that seemed to mock him. They whispered in his head, 'How deep is your love, Jacques?'

With a frustrated sigh, he tossed his pen aside and rubbed his temples.

"It's not about worth it or not," he grunts in frustration, clenching his fists. His grades weren't improving, and Charles kept using that as an excuse every time he hung out with someone else. Even if Charles didn't say it outright, Jacques let those excuses echo in his mind, torturing himself. He thought if he just studied harder, if he just did better, things would change.

What an idiot. What a complete idiot. Because of me, Charles probably likes someone else better now.

"Why are you so stupid, Jacques?" he hissed at himself. "You're just dragging him down with you. No wonder he chose to spend his birthday in Maurice's dorm instead of with me!"

Leaning back in his chair, Jacques let out a long breath. His thoughts spiraled. Should I just... let it go? What would happen if I did? But it's just to admit my defeat. I can't be defeated!

But that felt wrong too. It'd be such a shame to let everything they had slips away. Wait, what even was 'everything' anymore? Endless fights about why Charles isn't there for me? He doesn't even look at me the same way now.

Every time Jacques reached out, Charles had something else to do. It felt like no matter what he did, he wasn't enough. He wondered if all his efforts, all the pain he endured, were just... a waste of time.

His phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the silence. Jacques glanced at the screen and saw Charles's name flashing. With a reluctant sigh, he answered.

"Hey," Charles's voice came through, cheerful as always. "Harvey and I are hanging out at Rupert's Diner. You should come join us."

Jacques hesitated, his fingers tightening around the device in his hand. Memories of the last time he tried to ask Charles to hang out flickered through his mind, and his stomach twisted.

The scene was still fresh. He'd sat there, picking at his food, while Charles spent the whole time talking to his so-called "friend." Jacques had felt like a complete fool. Every time he tried to join the conversation, his words were brushed off, like they didn't matter.

Was it my grades? he wondered bitterly. Do I really come off as some idiot who doesn't deserve respect just because I'm not as smart as everyone else?

The thought stung, and his grip on the device loosened. Asking again—it felt pointless.

"Nah, I'm good," he said flatly. "Got a lot of studying to do."

"You've been studying non-stop for weeks," Charles said, his voice soft with concern. "You deserve a break. It'll be fun, I promise."

He always knew just the right thing to say, like he truly cared. But every time Jacques gave in and followed along, it always ended the same. Somehow, Charles had a way of making him feel like an idiot in the end.

"I said no," Jacques snapped, sharper than he intended. Resting meant allowing Charles to slip away from his grasp. Having fun while his grades were plummeting felt like celebrating Charles's eventual departure. He didn't want to lose him, but his grades just wouldn't cooperate. 

It seemed that no matter how hard he studied, the words he tried to memorize transformed into meaningless strings of numbers, devoid of purpose or context he could grasp.

Realizing he had raised his voice to Charles, something he hadn't meant to do, Jacques quickly tried to fix it. "Just… let me know when you need me to pick you up."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Charles sighed. "Alright. I'll call you later. Take care, Jacques ."

The line disconnected, and Jacques tossed the phone onto the desk, where it landed on the open pages of codes. He leaned forward, resting his forehead in his palms. The silence of the room felt suffocating, pressing in on him from all sides. He tried to focus on the codes and laws again, but his mind remained blank, as if it were already dead.

***

Charles and Harvey were sitting across from each other at a small booth in Rupert's Diner, the warm glow of the retro neon signs outside casting a soft light over their table. Harvey had invited Charles out, thinking it would be a casual hangout, just two friends grabbing some food, but for Harvey, it was more than that. It felt like a fantasy come true—just being here with Charles, sharing a moment together. He could hardly contain his excitement, a grin playing on his lips as he stole glances at Charles, trying to savor every second.

Harvey was too happy, lost in the surreal feeling of the moment. He didn't even realize that Charles had been talking for a while, his words drifting in one ear and out the other. The only thing Harvey could focus on was the way Charles's eyes lit up when he spoke, and also his juicy pink fresh lips. 

"…and that's what scares me the most," Charles's voice broke through Harvey's haze, and he blinked, realizing he had missed a chunk of what Charles had been saying. He quickly tried to catch up, his mind still buzzing.

Charles was talking about something serious, his tone more guarded now. "The powerful outlaws, like the mafias… they're different from any small fishes. Sometimes, they're not even scared of the police, and they're more than capable of buying the law to protect themselves."

Harvey blinked, finally fully processing the gravity of Charles's words. He could hear the tension in Charles's voice now, the underlying worry. But despite his attempt to focus, Harvey's heart raced, and all he could think about was how this moment, being so close to Charles, felt like a dream. He couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world.

"Yeah… that sounds terrifying," Harvey muttered, his voice absent, not quite engaged in the conversation. 

Charles stole a moment to grab his phone and check if Jacques had replied to his text yet. He was worried when he saw there was still no reply. Suddenly, he just wanted to rush back home to see what had happened to Jacques . It seemed like Jacques had been working really hard to improve his grades, but no matter how hard he tried, he always failed.

Charles felt sorry for him, especially since Instructor David had already warned him about Jacques . If Jacques failed again, Charles would have to take action. Just trying your best wasn't enough; you needed to have what it takes.

Harvey, noticing Charles's distracted demeanor, cleared his throat. "Everything okay? You suddenly looked sad?"

Charles's eyes flicked back to Harvey, and he forced a smile. "Yeah, just—just trying to reach Jacques . He's not answering, but I'm sure he's just busy."

Harvey nodded, but still not realizing that it is suspicious that Charles only contacting Jacques , and not his other friends. "I also wondering what's with him. He seemed... different. He's not what he used to be. He used to be funny and exciting. Now he got angry easily, and frustrated, no one want to come near him anymore, and I think he also avoiding everyone."

"He's been trying so hard to keep his grades up," Charles said, his voice faltering slightly. "You see, we were in a buddy system together. The instructor set it up to motivate him to do better. But recently..." Charles trailed off, unsure if he could share the rest with Harvey. 

He hesitated, glancing down at the table. Charles knew that Harvey was one of Jacques's close friends, but they had never really spoken before. To be honest, the only reason Charles had agreed to hang out with Harvey tonight was because he hoped Harvey might be able to help Jacques . Jacques seriously needed to relax. He had been too tight with himself, too hard on himself. If he kept going like this, Charles worried Jacques would end up destroying himself. 

After a long pause, Charles looked up at Harvey, unsure whether he should open up more. "I just… I'm worried about him," he finally admitted, his voice softer now.

Harvey placed his hand on Charles's, hoping to offer some comfort. "We both care about Jacques . So, why don't we work together to help him?"

Charles felt an odd sensation when Harvey's hand touched his, but he quickly brushed it off. Maybe it was just Harvey being Harvey. Some guys didn't mind being a little touchy.

"You have an idea?" Charles asked, trying to focus on the conversation.

"Yeah! You know... Jacques really loves speed. Any vehicle—motorcycles, cars..." Harvey said with a grin, his voice full of enthusiasm.

"Wait, did you just suggest letting him fly a jet?"

Harvey laughed, shaking his head. "Hey, I'm not talking about a jet. That might be too much for a 17-year-old. But believe me, he loves boy's toys."

"So... your plan is...?" Charles asked, trying to understand where Harvey was going with this.

Harvey smirked, then leaned in a little closer, feeling his heart pound as he caught a hint of Charles's scent just behind his ear. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he whispered his idea.