Flashback Original -

“You’d catch me,” Alex whispered.

“Always,” Alex had whispered.

“Water doesn’t have student loans.” flashback original

And for the first time in three years, he believed it.

Alex closed his eyes. The rain became sunlight. The rusted railings became warm, dry wood. And he was there. “You’d catch me,” Alex whispered

“I’m serious about the job,” Alex had said. “It’s stable. It’s safe.”

They never got the coffee. Leo got a call from his gallery—a last-minute showing. He’d bounded off the bridge, kissed Alex on the forehead like a blessing, and said, “Next Tuesday. Same place. Bring courage.” Alex closed his eyes

Then he typed another, to the community art center downtown: “I’d like to apply for the teaching position. I don’t have a degree in art, but I know someone who did. And I can learn.”

Leo had turned then, and his smile was a weapon—disarming, bright, and utterly insane. “That’s the point. You have to get close to the edge to see the whole sky.”

But next Tuesday never came. Leo’s car hydroplaned on the wet highway the next morning. The funeral was small. Alex stood in the back, hands in his pockets, color-coded grief that didn’t fit any category.

Instead, he said: “Let’s get coffee.”