#59 Short Story

“To tell the truth…” the boy who forgot to smile genuinely sighed. “I never actually wanted to inherit this—this family business.”

His friend was close to his age, though age clung to him differently. A receding hairline long past saving, a few stubborn gray hairs claiming small victories. A beard framed his face. His eyes, however, were honest—painfully so. His body was bulky, not with muscle but with weight borne from years of quiet depression. Still able. Still quick-footed, almost nimble for someone of his size. His age could not easily be guessed by sight.

“You serious?” the friend asked. He stopped his mechanical routine and turned. “Are you—really, really serious?”

“Yeah,” said the boy who forgot to smile genuinely. He faced his friend. An uncommon thing for the both of them.

“You’re really serious,” the friend said. “Mind telling me why this—oh. Hold on. Did you go out drinking last night? Maybe it’s the alcohol talking. Hungover thoughts, not you.”

The boy who forgot to smile genuinely sighed. He looked his friend dead in the eyes—another rare thing.

“I don’t really like…” He stopped. Whatever came next might hurt his friend. “I’m just not cut out for this. I’m meant to be elsewhere. Not here.”

“Oh,” the friend scoffed. “Sorry, these shits are too low for you—”

“Oh! I didn’t mean it like that,” the boy who forgot to smile genuinely said quickly. He already knew he was being misunderstood. He hated this feeling. Especially when his friend struggled to understand him. It always happened when he tried to talk like this.

“Well, sorry we’re lowborn compared to you,” the friend said. “We never had the chance to be educated, to attend—”

“Stop.”

The word came out sharper than intended.

The boy who forgot to smile genuinely was passive by nature. He hated speaking up. Hated raising his voice. But he knew where this was going, and he couldn’t bear to hear it said out loud.

“Not the first time,” the friend said quietly. “So?”

“Maybe I’m…” The boy who forgot to smile genuinely trailed off. He turned away and forced a smile that didn’t reach anywhere real. “As we were.”

The friend stood there, surprised. He had made a mistake—though he didn’t know where. It was always like that.

“Alright,” the friend said.

The boy who forgot to smile genuinely sighed.

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