Rose Gold

When we returned to the house, Cason tried to carry all the groceries in one trip and ended up dropping half of the bags on the sidewalk in the process. I followed behind him and picked up the stragglers while carrying the non-food items. Despite not knowing the method to his madness, I helped him put everything away in the kitchen as he sat on the floor, throwing out old food in the fridge.

He had me fetch his speaker so he could resume his concert from this morning while I stayed in the living room and called my insurance company back. The hour-long conversation was unbearable, and it was relatively useless since most of it was just common sense. Still, I took the receipts from what Cason had bought and planned to file them away in one of the notebooks in my work bag. 

As to be expected, I had to keep track of my expenses but the next thing on my to-do list was get someone to assess the damage. The thought made me chuckle—there was nothing to assess. It’s not like only a few rooms were damaged. Everything was gone. This process was about to be the worst three months of my life.

Regardless, I finished taking notes and laid back on the couch, taking a deep breath before drafting an email to my coworkers about what was going on. Though, as I moved onto my second paragraph, a text notification interrupted the display.

Matthew: Photography boy’s cute :) Ur starting to get on my nerves.
Is he single?

I rolled my eyes and swiped it to the side, attempting to stay on task before my emotions took over again and all I could do was lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling. However, the thought of Matthew putting his hands on Cason was disrupting my flow, so I saved the email in my drafts.

Tobias: Touch him and I’ll kill you

Matthew: Damn ur greedy. u can’t have everything Toby. If I can’t have you, gimmie him instead
LOL 

Tobias: I don’t want you getting involved with him

Matthew: What’s his name???

Tobias::/

Matthew: C’monnnnnnnnn :)))) he’s so cute. Can’t we share?

Tobias: Oh my fucking God stop.
You’re so gross
I hate you

Matthew: Chill the hell out lmao. I was joking

Tobias: Yeah right

Matthew: I never figured u were into petite guys. that’s new

Tobias: ??? I’m only like 5 inches taller than him

Matthew: What’s he got that I don’t? I can work a camera

Tobias: Stop

Matthew: U want me to dye my hair pink? lmao

Tobias: How about you grow the hell up and stop dyeing your hair altogether.
Or at least cut it.
You looked better in high school and you were covered in fuckin acne

Matthew: Harsh but noted.
Anyway u gonna ask him out

Tobias: No?? I barely know him.
Just bc he’s cute doesn’t mean I need to ask him out

Matthew: And this, Toby, my beloved, is why you can never get laid

Tobias: I’m not like you I don’t think with my penis you idiot
I’m not trying to get laid

Matthew: Oh… so Toby just wants friends?? :(((
lmfao you’re adorable

Tobias: Kys

Matthew: Aww you love me. I’ll happily keep myself safe if that’s what you wish :3

I groaned and placed my phone on the table, but when I looked up, Cason was leaning over the couch, grinning at me.

“Hi.”

“H-Hey…” I felt my face heat up. How long had he been staring at me for? “You good?”

“Mhm!” He pulled off his sweater vest and laid it on the couch. “You wanna put away the clothes you got? I wanna see your haul.”

I laughed and sat up as Cason grabbed the bags and ran upstairs. His constant energy amused me. I was smooth sailing until Matthew got his hands on me and disrupted Cason’s contagious funky flow. Now I just wanted to lie face down for a while.

When I entered the guest room, Cason was digging through the closet.

“Sorry—I just realized this was the one thing I forgot to clean.”

I chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll probably wash everything first anyway.”

I stood close behind him, waiting for the inevitable. The boy was so accident prone. It made me wonder how he survived without me. God forbid he make peace with his height and just grab a ladder. I watched as he stood on the edge of a plastic bin in the bottom of the closet, reaching for the basket of items on the top shelf.

He barely grabbed a hold of it before realizing it was too heavy to lift in his unstable position and fell back into my arms when his fingers slipped. He screeched as the basket fell with him, but at least he didn’t get caught in the avalanche.

I snickered as I held him. “Strike two, I believe.”

He blushed. “Were you waiting for me to fall?!”

“Yes. I don’t want you to hit your head again.” I lifted him up and placed him in an area clear of the piles. “What are you even looking for?”

“Nothing really!” He sighed and started grabbing clothes off the hooks now that the top shelf had been dealt with. “I was just trying to get everything out!” He examined the garments. “I don’t even remember buying these…” He muttered to himself.

I chuckled while organizing all the books and envelopes that fell out of the basket. I quickly noticed they were photo albums, and as I stacked up a few of the envelopes, one slipped out. I flipped it over to see that it was dated twenty-years ago.

“Oh my God.” I laughed and stared at the six-year-old Cason in the frame, standing in the sand with his tiny Hawaiian swim trunks.

Cason glanced back at me as he grabbed an empty laundry basket from the hallway and started placing the miscellaneous ‘Cason droppings’ in them. I smugly flipped the photo around to show him and he turned red.

“Oh my God…” He rubbed his face, quickly running over and sitting beside me. “I remember that.”

“You do?” I asked, grinning while putting away the envelopes and opening one of the smaller albums.

“Yep! It was the first time I went to the beach. Well,” He chuckled. “My parents took me to the beach as a baby but that was the first trip that I was self-aware for.”

“You’re so fucking cute!”

Cason rolled his eyes and grabbed a baby-blue album and turned to the middle, placing the photo where it must’ve fallen out. The photo beside it displayed Cason with two other boys. He was the shortest out of the bunch and the tallest one held a surfboard.

“Are those your brothers?” I pointed to the photo closest to him.

“Hm? Oh yeah!” He scooted closer to me. “I’m here, Mason’s in the middle and Adrian’s on the other end, the oldest. This entire album is just filled with photos from that beach trip.”

“If you were six, how old was everyone else?”

“Hmm…Adrian should’ve been eleven and if I recall correctly, it was in late July, so Mason was already eight.”

“You guys look so much alike.” I smiled at him.

“Y-You think?”

“Yeah, you’ve all got the same nose! It’s adorable!”

Cason laughed as we continued flipping through the photos. Some were scenic whereas some had the entire family in them. From what I could tell, I was right—Cason had his mom’s nose and his dad’s eyes, but he had freckles too. Under each photo was a caption that said the date, location, and usually explained what was going on in the picture.

There were countless photos of Cason—in the sand, on Adrian’s back, devouring crabs with his hands, wearing a captain’s hat on a yacht, wrapped in a blanket burrito in the hotel, but he tended to be a blur in many of them because he never stopped moving.

Just a blur of his bright blond hair and his toothy grin.

“You’re so cute…” I glanced at him, and he smiled back, flustered. “Still are.” I handed him the album and grabbed another as he put the blue one away, chuckling as his blush spread to his ears.

“Why do you have so many of these?” I asked as I stared at a picture of him from his teen years. I burst out laughing and showed him the book. “Holy shit! The half and half hair!”

“Shut up!” He laughed, shoving me.

“And at prom, even?! You’ve got a tuxedo on!”

“Shush!! Tobias! It was the eighth-grade dance!” He took the book. “Gimmie that!”

“Fine, take it!” I teased. “I’ve got like seven more on my side!”

Cason rolled his eyes. “Yeah…yeah…” He waved me off. “My mom gave me a ton of inspiration as I started pursuing photography. She still has tons of them at home, but I got to take my favorites. I forgot they were even in here really.”

“Damn! I guess that makes sense.”

The boy picked up a few white albums and placed them in the basket. “These just have my own photos that I took for fun. They’re way less interesting.”

“Eh, I doubt that, but I’ll check out that one next,” I mumbled with my face already in one of the bright colored books. I stared at the photos of him and his brothers in high school, though eventually it was just photos of him since the other two graduated sooner.

He looked as nerdy as he did now, just in a different way. His backpack and jackets were covered in various pins and patches. Occasionally he was wearing fake glasses and often wore the weirdest button-down shirts—bananas, soda cans, cats, Pokémon—I guess he moved from weird shirts to weird ties.

The weird ties fit the times better since he was supposed to be a serious, mature adult now, but I missed the goofy shirt era. Even though it’d be an eyesore, I think he could rock both at the same time.

“What made you want to get into photography?”

Cason glanced at me. “Hm? Oh…” He rubbed his neck. “That’s a good question!” He laughed. “I never knew what I wanted to do in college but this guy in one of my Gen Ed classes had a knack for it and got me interested. Technically, I was interested before—I used to paint and often took my own reference photos, but it didn’t feel practical and clearly took a while to stick.”

“Huh. I figured it had been a hobby since childhood.” I chuckled.

Cason shrugged and his arm brushed against mine as he examined the page I was on. It appeared to be him and his friends from grade school.

“I wish. I never really…knew what was going on.” He sighed and leaned on my shoulder. “What can I say? I’m a scatterbrain. I had no plans. I’m still kinda surprised I even got here in the first place.”

“W-Well…” I tensed up, unsure how to move. “I’m happy you’re here.”

Cason smiled up at me, snickering. “It’s not like I was depressed or anything. I just thought I’d end up living in my parent’s basement.”

“Well, yeah. Still though—I’m happy you’re here.”

He turned red and we stared at each other for a moment before he frantically sat back up, messing around with all the books again.

“A-Are you on some mission to see how many times you can flatter me today?”

“Huh?”

He chuckled. “You’ve already called me cute at least ten times now.”

I rolled my eyes. “How could I not? Look at you!” I beamed and showed him the book in my hand, pointing to the photo of him sitting on someone’s roof, shirtless. “You’re adorable!”

“Shut up!” He shoved me lightly. “You don’t have to comment on every photo…”

I shrugged. “Your loss then.”

Cason rolled his eyes as I got to the end and opened another bright colored one. All the years seemed to be mixed up in these, but there were countless group shots. He had a bigger family than I expected, but he still stuck out in every photo.

“What’s your favorite thing about your job?”

I noticed Cason’s red ears. “W-Why is the focus still on me?”

“What? Don’t you like the attention?” I laughed. “Your life is more interesting than mine and now I have photographic proof! I’m just curious.”

The boy stared at his hands. “I just think it’s cool being able to capture…people’s milestones, y’know? Weddings, birthdays, graduations—a lot of shit goes on in people’s lives and it’s easy to forget the minor details, and my job gives people a way to remember every aspect for years to come.” He sighed, smiling. “I like the variety. Sometimes you get weird people, but it’s cool to see how close they are to their friends or family. I like seeing babies and chaotic little kids—probably because they remind me of myself—but I like being able to capture smiles of all ages. That and being able to preserve every moment, in the moment. The stories people tell may differ, but photographs will always hold the truth.”

Cason finally looked at me and paused. “I-I’m sure that’s everyone’s reason though. That’s just how photography works.”

“Nah, Cason, I think that’s awesome. Just from that, I can tell you love what you do, and that’s important in a job. And since you’re very empathetic, I understand the choice a bit more now.”

“Y-Yeah?”

I grinned at him. “Yeah! It’s sweet.” He seemed embarrassed by his words, but I enjoyed seeing his enthusiasm towards things he loved. He was an open book, sure, but seeing him thrilled was always a treat. The times where he’d let his guard down and just…ramble. Ramble about the shit that made him happy.

Cason did whatever made him happy; worked how he wanted, wore what he wanted, acted how he wanted, which was typically on impulse, but it was attractive, to say the least. Sure, now I was uncertain of what his happy ending would be, but I knew it was coming.

His family loved him, flaws, quirkiness, and all. From what I could tell, they always supported him. Aside from the baby photos of him bawling because that’s what babies do at random—he was smiling in every photo, and so were they. They took countless photos to preserve the memories which is what Cason ended up falling in love with, but it was strange to me.

My family was probably the bizzarro version of his.

We rarely took photos, and it was rare for me to appear in a single one. When I did, I looked nothing like Cason. No grin, no rosy cheeks—just that thousand-yard stare merged with resting bitch face. It didn’t matter if there was a camera in front of me or not—that’s just how I looked. The same went for today.

I’d kill for Cason to adopt me into his family. I’m sure I’d stand out like a sore thumb for the sole fact that I didn’t have light colored hair, but I’m sure spending at least one day in his house would be a pleasant experience. No doubt just having his mom smile at me would give me the drive to keep going.

No one blood-related gave a shit about me. Not as a kid and not now. The only way to ignore it was to work so I couldn’t dwell on it. Sure, that blocked out the chances for memorable friendships and long-term relationships, but it was a sacrifice I had to make so I wouldn’t feel like shit every breathing second.

If that were the case, I would’ve given up ages ago. 

No one really wanted me. Ever. 

Except for Matthew, I guess, but he wasn’t family and I wish I could physically and mentally put him in the vault, so he’d stop wrecking my mind.

My parents didn’t care much for me and neither did my brothers, and when we moved in with my uncle and his three other sons, I was pushed further into the background than before. I was the lowest priority and no matter my age, it was impossible to ignore.

“Tobias?”

I’d kill to be loved like Cason was. Though, I was too far gone. I’m sure my parents had fucked me up enough as a kid to the point where it was irreversible. 

“Tobias!”

I looked up at Cason who had been cutting the tags off the clothes we bought. He looked terrified.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?!” He scoffed and squatted beside me. “Why are you crying?!”

“What? I’m not—” I rubbed my face.

Shit.

How long had I been crying for?

Hell, how long was Cason aware? How long had he been calling my name? Thank God the photos were behind plastic since one of the albums was still open in my lap, now drenched in tears. I looked at the book and then back at the panicking freckled boy. He rubbed my back as I wiped my face, only for the tears to continue to fall.

I didn’t even feel that sad. Just disappointed. 

“Y-You were sitting in silence for a while,” Cason began. “Last time I checked, you were enjoying all the albums. Was it one of the photos? D…Did I do something by any chance?”

I sighed and closed the book, covering my mouth. “No, you’re fine. You’re perfect.”

“P-Perfect?” He chuckled in confusion. “I’m far from—”

“Well, to me you are.”

He turned red.

“I know that…probably sounds weird.” I looked him over as he fidgeted with one of the tags. “It’s just funny how different your life is from mine. You were raised in a happy household with traditions and compassion. Compared to my life? My childhood? Yours is perfect.”

“That’s not funny. That’s sad.” He rubbed my arm.

“Maybe. It’s just neat, is all.” I shrugged, still crying a little. “The flaws are obvious now that I know you. I didn’t have the greatest upbringing but it’s impossible to ignore when I see these photos of you from all phases of life with this giant grin on your face. I guess it finally clicked. I can’t ignore it anymore.” 

“As in, ignoring your family?”

I smiled at him. “Maybe. Yeah. Childhood, too.”

“Tobias…”

“I primarily grew up with my dad, my uncle, my older brothers, and my older cousins,” I explained. “My mom had a substance abuse issue, so my dad understandably bailed, but even when our families combined, the increased number of eyes didn’t make me feel any more noticed. I was always left behind, nothing I did was good enough and despite being the youngest, I couldn’t use that as an excuse. I thought it was tough love but…” I shrugged. “There was no love at all.”

“I just…” I continued, holding my head. “It’s crazy imagining you growing up in such a…happy environment when mine was radically different. We didn’t take photos and if we did, I was never in them. To this day, I don’t know why they left me behind. I thought having so many older ‘brothers’ would benefit me but that was my dad’s side of the family, and I quickly learned how self-centered they were. It was every man for himself.”

“So, in other words…they left you to raise yourself. Right?” Cason muttered.

“Y-Yeah. And I thought that going off on my own would warrant some type of reward, but I could never get their attention and when I tried too hard, they’d only get mad. I wasn’t like my brothers, and I think that was the problem.” I started cleaning up the rest of the photo albums. “It should’ve been blatantly obvious back then, but I was ignorant just to cope.” 

I snickered as Cason raised an eyebrow. “I was too much like my mom. We have the same hair color, nose shape, smile—everything. Normally, it wouldn’t be a bad problem to have, but everyone else seemed to hate me for it.” 

“The fuck? Were they afraid you were gonna evolve into her? You were a kid!”

“Hell if I know,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Regardless, I couldn’t figure out how to be like them and no one in the house could seem to fix me. They tried lots of things—primarily to try and clone me into one of my brothers or at the very least, my cousins.” I sighed. “Boy scouts, sports, sleep-away camps,” I shuddered, uncovering a suppressed memory from one of those summers. “My dad eventually gave up and sent me to an all-boy’s high school with a bunch of crazy Catholics, but I’m convinced that only made me worse.”

Eventually, the floor was finally clean aside from the sorted laundry piles so Cason could start a load.

“It didn’t matter though,” I went on. “After I graduated and after four-years of never…improving, they just went and changed the locks on the door.”

“What?! How old were you?”

I chuckled, glancing at Cason. “Eighteen.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Still, I had worked all through high school, so I had tons of money saved up. And the only thing my uncle was good for was teaching me about investing. While I was panicking, at least I wasn’t…broke, I guess.”

Cason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but…”

I smirked, drying my face completely. “I know.” I stretched after sitting on the ground for too long. The freckled boy stood up with me, still confused as to how I was moving on so fast. “I temporarily moved in with my mom and went to college, but I’d stay with her during the off-seasons.”

“Your substance abusing mom??”

“…Yeah.”

Cason looked me over and seemed surprised that I came out alive. I laughed at his expression.

“By the time I graduated, I had at least made a few friends who I tried being roommates with. Frankly, I had my fair share of shitty roommates and eventually had enough for my own place as I continued to do my thing in graduate school. Thanks to all my internships, I made a name for myself and got a head start.”

“And that’s how you got here today, sure.” Cason dragged his laundry basket of miscellaneous items into the hall before returning to examine me. “But I’m assuming it had been years since you’d seen your mom so how the hell did that go?”

I inhaled sharply. “Pretty fucking bad.” I laughed. “Depending on whether she was sober or not. It seemed like she liked me when under the influence of something but since it constantly varied, I had to be on guard all the time.” I leaned against the door frame. “She lived in a small shanty apartment, and I slept on an air mattress, but I made do. It was a short phase.”

“Thank God…” Cason sighed. “And thank God her substance abuse…ness, didn’t rub off on you.”

“I’m not easily influenced.” I snickered, only to pause. “Although, I do drink. Obviously I have boundaries and stray from using it as a coping mechanism since addiction runs in the family,” Cason nodded. “But it’s nowhere close to that point. I pave my own path. Hell, I’ve been forced to.”

“True…” The boy gazed at me. “I’m just…sorry that your childhood was straight-up awful. If I had known it would’ve upset you, I wouldn’t have—”

“Nah Cason, I fuckin’ loved looking at those kiddie photos of you.” I grinned and ruffled his hair, laughing as he quickly turned red. “That literally made my day.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I combed a strand behind his ear. “Like, yeah, it did end up making me realize some major differences about my own life, but I enjoyed all the adorable pics of you. Definitely more positives than negatives in this case.”

“That’s good,” He smiled before coming back to reality after I touched him, leaning back a bit. “W-Well, since you’re tall and probably tired of catching me, you can put the basket back up there. Feel free to look at them whenever.”

“Fuck yeah!”

Cason laughed at my response and scooped up all my clothes off the floor. “Anyway, I’m gonna get these in the washing machine and start on dinner.”

“You…need help?” I asked, noticing how the ball of clothes he was holding partly obscured his view.

“I’m good!” He beamed. “You’re my guest, after all.”

I snickered and still followed him closely down the steps just in case he fell. There was nothing fun about laundry, or even the specific meal he was planning on making, but I was dying to keep looking at him. Relaying my childhood to someone else only made me more aware of how lonely I’d been.

But just as I did with most issues, I tried not to dwell on it.

While it would’ve been nice not spending my weekends and holidays alone, I’d convinced myself that company was a want, not a need. I could survive without it—hell, I’d made it this far.

And then Cason—climbing on top of the kitchen counter in search for a bowl that was visibly dirty in the sink, would make eye contact with me, grinning from ear to ear—and I’d wonder how I’d survived this long without him.