08.04 TOM – Depth of Silence 16.7. at 06:00 – 00:30

One day you'll have to stop hiding. One day you'll have to stop lying to yourself.

Viktor's words keep ringing in my head. I didn't hear them, I didn't want to. But I hear them anyway. Over and over again. As if he carved them straight into my brain.

I'm starting to not understand myself. I always knew who I was. Or at least I thought I did. Now? Now I know nothing.

I hate him. I hate him so much it burns. Inside. Everywhere. Hatred is like a fire spreading through my veins, burning everything I ever was. Everything I ever wanted. Everything I thought I was.

Or is it fear? Fear of what I see when I look into his eyes. Fear of what I see when I look into my own eyes in the mirror?

I stand up. My legs are stiff from sitting on the cold stone. Before leaving, I take one last look at the water. At my reflection. I don't recognize myself. I don't recognize the boy looking back at me. He looks lost. He looks empty. He looks like someone I never wanted to be.

I pick up a stone and throw it into the water. Right into my own reflection. The water ripples in circles that expand until they disappear. As if I had never been.

I turn around and walk away. But I know that the shadow on the water is still there. And it will be there until I decide to face it. Until I decide to face myself.

I can't go home. Mom would notice right away that something's wrong. She has a radar for that. She always knows when something's going on. And I'm not ready to explain anything to her right now. I'm not ready to explain anything to myself.

I wander the streets. I have no destination. I just walk. Around me, people are hurrying to work, to wherever. Everyone belongs somewhere. Everyone is going somewhere. Everyone knows who they are.

I stop by some shop window. In the reflection I see my face. I'm pale. I have dark circles under my eyes. I look like someone who hasn't slept in days. And maybe that's how it is. Maybe I haven't slept this whole time and at the same time I'm waking up now.

I need to calm down. I need to sort out my thoughts. I need... something. Someone. But who?

Veronika blocked me. I left her in the lurch. I used her. Like some asshole. Like someone I never wanted to be. Now she doesn't even want to see me, and who can blame her?

Tony? He has his own world. His perfect world, where everything works. Where there's no room for someone like me. For someone who's so fucking scared they can't even admit what they feel.

And Viktor… No. I don't even want to think about him. I don't want to think about his eyes when I hit him. I don't want to think about the bruise I gave him. I don't want to think about how I left him standing there in the locker room, alone and injured.

But I am thinking about it. All the time. Non-stop.

I take out my phone and scroll through my contacts. There it is. His name. His number. One touch and I could call him. One touch and I could… what? What would I say to him? "Sorry I beat you up? Sorry I called you a pervert? Sorry I was such a cowardly little shit that I couldn't admit what you feel for me? What I feel for you?"

No. I can't. I can't even say it.

My phone vibrates in my hand again. Mum. Again. I'll take it this time.

“Hello,” I say, trying to make my voice sound normal.

“Tomíku,” her voice sounds tired, but caring. “Where are you, sweetie? You're not home and I… I could use you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Sorry, Mum,” I say, closing my eyes. “I was… out. I'm coming home, okay? I'll be there in a minute.”

"Alright," he says quietly. "I'll wait."

I hang up and shove the phone back into my pocket. I feel like breaking something. I feel like screaming. I feel like crying. Instead, I turn around and head home.

Mom needs me. Like always. And I'll be there for her. Like always. Because that's the only thing I'm good at. Being there for everyone else. Never for myself.

Mom is lying on the bed when I walk into the apartment. She looks fragile. Like a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment. But when she sees me, her face lights up.

"Tommy," she smiles. "Finally."

“Hello, Mum,” I say and step up to the bed. “Sorry. How are you?”

„Better,“ she says and reaches out her hand to me. I take it in mine and squeeze. It's so thin. So weak. „Where were you? I was worried about you.“

„I went for a walk,“ I lie. „I needed to clear my head.“

„Because of the training?“ she asks with concern.

„Yeah,“ I nod. „Yeah, I need that scholarship.“

It's not a complete lie. School is part of the problem. The pool is part of the problem. Viktor is part of the problem. I am part of the problem.

„Don't you want to tell me about it?“ she asks gently.

I shake my head. "It's nothing important, Mom. Just stress."

She looks at me with that piercing gaze of hers. The one she always used to know when I was lying. But this time she says nothing. Maybe she is too tired. Maybe she knows I wouldn't tell her the truth anyway.

"Are you hungry?" I ask to change the subject. "Do you want anything?"

“No, thank you,” he shakes his head. “Would you look at my back? I think I have a bedsore.”

„Yeah, sure,“ I nod.

I help her turn onto her side and pull up her nightshirt. Her back is skinny, the skin taut over the bones. I don't see any bedsores, but I gently massage her with cream anyway. I know she likes it. I know it comforts her.

„Better?“ I ask when I'm done.

„Oh, thanks,“ she nods and turns back onto her back. „Thanks, Tommy.“

I smile at her, but inside it's tearing me apart. This is my life. This is my reality. A mom who needs me. A mom who relies on me. A mom who would be completely lost if I wasn't here.

And me? I'm lost anyway.

„I'm going to make some tea,“ I say, standing up. „Do you want some too?“

„Yeah, I'll have some,“ she nods.

I put water on in the kitchen and lean against the counter. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can feel my hands shaking. My throat tightening. Tears pressing into my eyes.

What I wouldn't give to turn it all back. To start over. To be someone else. Someone who knows what they want. Someone who isn't afraid.

But I can't. I'm trapped in my own life. In my own head. In my own fear.

The water starts to boil and I pour two mugs of tea. One for Mom, one for myself. Just like every day. As if nothing had changed.

But everything has changed. And I don't know how to fix it.

Mom is already asleep. I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling. I can't fall asleep. I can't stop thinking. I can't stop feeling.

It's raining outside. The drops are drumming against the windows like the fingers of an impatient visitor. As if they wanted to tell me something. As if they wanted to warn me.

My phone is glowing on the nightstand. I pick it up and scroll through my messages. Nothing from Veronika. Nothing from anyone I care about.

I open Instagram and start scrolling. Mindlessly. Mechanically. Just to keep myself busy somehow. So I don't have to think about what happened. About what I did.

And then I see him. Viktor's profile. His latest post. A picture from the pool. There's only water in it, no people. Just the blue surface and the light reflecting on it. Beneath it is written: "Sometimes we drown in what we don't want to feel."

I swallow hard. My heart is pounding like crazy. My fingers are shaking as I click on his profile. I look through his photos. Most of them are abstractions. Artistic photos. No selfies. No faces. Just lights, shadows, colors. As if he were hiding. As if he didn't want to be seen.

But I see him. I see him in every single one of those photos. In every single shadow. In every single color.

I close the app and throw my phone onto the bed. What the hell am I doing? Why am I following him? Why do I care?

I know why. Of course I know why. But I can't admit it. I can't say it out loud. I can't even think about it.

Because if it were true... if what I'm feeling were what I think I'm feeling... what would that make me? Who would I be?

The kind of person I've hated my whole life? The kind of person I've mocked my whole life? The kind of person I've rejected my whole life?

No. I can't be that. I don't want to be that.

But what if I already am?

I take a deep breath and pick up the phone again. I open messages and find his name. Viktor. My fingers hover over the keyboard. What should I write to him? What on earth can I write to him?

„Sorry,“ I type in the end. One word. So little. So inadequate.

I'll send it before I have time to change my mind. And then I wait. My heart is pounding in my throat. My palms are sweating. I wait.

But no reply comes. Of course not. What did I expect? That he'd forgive me? That he'd forget? That he'd give me another chance?

No. He wouldn't do that. And I wouldn't do that in his place either.

I put my phone down and stare at the ceiling again. It's still raining outside. The drops now sound like mockery. As if they're telling me I've fucked everything up. That I've destroyed everything.

And they're right. I ruined it. I ruined everything.