09.01 TOM – Shadows in the Rental Shop July 17 at 10:30 AM – 11:00 PM

17.7.

Evening smog circles above the rooftops, painting the lights in ochre rings and turning the neon into vibrating phantoms. The air tastes of roasted pepper and burnt gasoline, leaving the tongue numb. The silhouettes of pedestrians blur into a watercolor, none of them having a sharp edge. It's a night that allows even the hardest shadows to stay soft.

Viktor – diary, 7/17. I used to borrow other people's bodies just as easily as old DVDs. Returning them was a matter of an excuse: tomorrow, maybe never. I felt the warranty period of closeness slipping between my fingers. And yet I paid the admission fee again, just to catch another anonymous breath.

TOM

I'm standing in front of the video rental shop, looking through the glass at Viktor, wondering if I should even go in. I texted him "Sorry" last night, but he didn't reply. Of course he didn't reply. What was I expecting?

I finally find the courage and open the door. The bell chimes, announcing my arrival. Viktor looks up from the shelf where he's organizing DVD cases into the "Cult Sci-Fi" section. Our eyes meet for just a second before he goes back to his work. As if I were air.

"Hey," I say quietly, almost inaudibly.

He nods, but doesn't look at me. His fingers graze the spines of the cases; the glue on them must be stinging. His eyes are slightly red. I can't tell whether from exhaustion or from crying.

A draft from the street carries the scent of espresso and the summer asphalt of Charles Square. It's hot outside, but here inside it's pleasantly cool. The air conditioning hums quietly in the background, as if trying to drown out the tension between us.

"I need a movie," I say stupidly, because I don't know what else to say.

"Certainly," Viktor replies formally. "Anything specific?"

I shake my head. "Anything."

Viktor sighs and finally looks at me. "What are you doing here, Tom?"

His voice sounds tired, but not angry. That's a good sign, right?

"I wanted to see you," I admit. "About yesterday... about everything."

"I'm working now," he replies, gesturing to the shelves around us. "I don't have time for..."

At that moment, the door opens and Iris walks in, that girl who's always hanging around Viktor. She's wearing a short dress and big sunglasses, which she takes off as soon as she steps inside. She's smiling like she owns the whole world.

“Hi, Viktor!” she calls out enthusiastically, and then she notices me. “Oh, hi,” she says with much less enthusiasm.

“Hey,” I reply, wishing she'd just leave again.

Iris leans against the counter, holding her phone up in the air. “Vintage vibes!” she exclaims and snaps a photo of the shelf. Then she starts explaining something to Viktor about filters and hashtags, but I'm not listening to her. Instead, I watch Viktor trying to be polite, even though you can tell it's annoying him.

Radka comes out of the back door, holding a folder in her hand. “Hi, Tom,” she greets me, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

I shrug. “Just walking by.”

Radka smiles as if she doesn't believe me, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she turns to Viktor and hands him some form. “Here's that time off, three weeks unpaid, just like you wanted.”

Viktor nods and takes the paper. “Thanks.”

Holiday? Viktor is leaving? Where? Why? And why didn't he tell me? But then I realize he doesn't have to tell me anything at all. We aren't friends. We aren't... anything.

The "Breaking News" sign is peeling off the wall. Viktor runs his thumb over it, and I can see tiny splinters of time digging into his skin. Somehow I know it must hurt, but he doesn't let it show.

An older man enters the rental shop, looking nervous. He walks straight to the counter and places a DVD on it. I can see it's some 90s porn compilation.

“Return?” Viktor asks professionally.

The man nods. "Thanks, kid," he says shyly and walks away quickly.

Iris chuckles and leans toward Viktor. "Film wreck, but the content sells," she whispers, but loud enough for me to hear as well. Then she raises her phone again and takes another picture. The camera flash illuminates the dust flying in the air.

The air heater compressor roars and the lights flicker for a moment. Viktor stops for a second and I notice a drop of sweat trickling down his temple. It's such an intimate sight that I have to look away.

“Well, I'll be going,” Iris says suddenly. “Will you let me know about that thing on Friday?”

Viktor nods, but says nothing. Iris smiles, waves, and leaves. When the door clicks shut behind her, silence falls over the room.

I look at the wall clock. It's 11:11—a time palindrome that slips into my chest like the harbinger of something… I don't know what. Change? An end? A beginning?

Viktor slips the vacation request into his pocket and mutters, "I deserve some peace and quiet."

I don't know if that was meant for me, or if he was talking to himself. But I feel that it's important. That there's something in it I need to understand.

„Where are you going?“ I ask.

Viktor looks at me as if he forgot I was there. „What?“

„That vacation,“ I point to his pocket. „Where are you going?“

He hesitates for a moment, as if weighing whether to tell me. „To Vietnam,“ he finally answers. „Tony invited me.“

Tony. Of course. Always that Tony.

"Oh," I say, trying to make it sound normal. "...great."

Viktor shrugs. "Hm."

The silence between us grows thick. There is so much I would like to say, but I can't find the words. Or maybe the courage.

"Look, yesterday..." I begin, but Viktor interrupts me.

"I don't want to talk about it," he says firmly. "Neither here nor anywhere else."

I nod and swallow all those words that were forcing their way to my tongue. Apologies, explanations, excuses. Everything that wouldn't change anything anyway.

"So... what about that movie?" Viktor asks, and his voice suddenly sounds professional. As if I were just another customer.

„Actually…“ I hesitate. „I don’t know. Would you recommend something?“

Viktor thinks for a moment, then goes over to the shelf and pulls out a DVD. „Call Me By Your Name,“ he says and hands it to me. „Italian summer, first love, heart in pieces. You might like it.“

I take the cover and examine it. On the front are two guys, one tanned, the other pale. They’re sitting close together, but they aren't touching.

„What’s it about?“ I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.

„About how hard it is to be honest with yourself,“ Viktor answers quietly. „And how much it hurts when it’s already too late.“

Our eyes meet, and this time it lasts longer. I see something in his eyes that I hadn't seen there before. Or maybe I just didn't want to see it. Vulnerability. Pain. And something that looks like… hope?

„I’ll take it,“ I say, pulling out my wallet.

Viktor shakes his head. „It’s on me,“ he says. „Consider it a parting gift.“

"A farewell party?" The word tightens my throat. "You're not coming back?"

"I don't know," Viktor admits. "Maybe yes. Maybe no. It depends..."

"On what?" I ask when he doesn't finish the sentence.

Viktor looks at me for a long moment. "On whether there's anything here to come back for."

I feel my heart pounding in my throat. What does that mean? What is he trying to tell me?

"Viktor..." I start, but he interrupts me again.

"Watch the movie," he says. "And then you'll decide if you want to tell me something."

I nod because I can't speak. I have a lump the size of a fist in my throat and I feel a burning heat in my eyes.

„Thanks,“ I finally say and take the DVD. „And… enjoy your vacation.“

Viktor gives a slight smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. „Thanks.“

I turn to leave, but stop by the door. „When is your flight?“ I ask without turning around.

„Tomorrow night,“ he answers.

I nod, even though he can't see me. Tomorrow night. That means I only have one day? One day to make up my mind? One day to find the courage?

One day to admit the truth to myself?

I step out into the blazing Karllovo náměstí and clutch the DVD in my hand. The sun blinds me, but I don't mind. For the first time in a long while, I see clearly.