text: I eat and that’s me. The cocktail shrimp tastes like wet sticks, and I swallow it. The crackers, tasteless, damned by salt, dry my mouth. Cold and dead things; I eat and that’s normal of me. I stand amongst lifelong friends I’ve seen just today. Murky faces I talk and act to like I adore them. Lapses in normality or common gestures I quickly blame on the vomit tasting Chardonnay. I play and convince others of myself. Therefore, this new self must surely be me. “You know what, Gary? You remind me of one of those gloomy, handsome heroes from the movies.” That’s cause he made himself that way. Radiohead optimism and espresso breathe, big-rimmed glasses and hand-combed hair. Even the dark spots under his eyes were done so well that no one could tell it was makeup. It just seemed on par. “Yes.” Said the Gary actor. He played it cool enough that the cliche was seen as tantalizing. The women at the New Year’s party giggled all the suspicion away he was in for fifteen minutes. And though it was not Gary’s usual role, he knew Gary could’ve been shy sometimes. Late nights out on the balcony, oh, he knew Gary had some mysterious gloom in him. Might as well cover this Gary in all of it for the New Year’s. No one looked surprised at least. “Hey, Gary! Buddy!” He turned to the man calling him to the stage. Immediately he says his lines. “Benny Baby! God, where’d that hairline go?” Benny Jalko misplaced all his hair back in high school, something Gary knew first hand! He watched it fall out starting freshman year. There were many late nights where Gary and Benny discussed this tragedy, some with tears, but now any thought of it all was pure resignation. They joked about it often these days. Benny took the line without a beat, steering the conversation to the paleness of Gary’s skin. He assures Benny it’s just a new low iron diagnosis he received yesterday. He told Benny about the common symptoms like a bullet list from Google. The Gary actor thought of this lie from a woman he shared an Uber with. “Iron? You’re 6’6'' and ate beef tartare by the pound just last summer!” The Gary actor didn’t inhale an atom. “Well, anyway, how’s that Sarah girl doing? You going on another date?” The Gary actor hoped to hell he couldn’t see his heart stop. Who was Sarah? He thought of all he got from Gary. He searched every bit of information he accumulated of old girlfriends, hookups, even cousins. He shot in the dark, “Sarah Fencor? From sophomore math? Benny smiled like he half-decided to laugh, “Sarah Fencor? The girl who ate kimchi in class? Nah, movie Sarah. ‘Miss Most Beautiful Girl’ Sarah!” Benny would’ve felt the stinking panic coming from his supposed friend if he reached out a hand. He would’ve run screaming if he knew the truth. A thousand Xanax couldn’t make the Gary actor blink. “The Sarah you’ve been talking about everyday. You gotta be-” “I’m joking!” Benny jumped from the outburst. “Weeell, work on your standup. Or at least ditch what you got, ‘cause Miss Beautiful Sarah just came through the door!” ***** Sarah McKellen wasn’t much of a party fan. She hated the genre switches of amateur DJs. She didn’t like having to carry around little plates of finger-food (too much of a pain in the ass). And she sure-as-shit never drank enough to indulge in low inhibitions. She was too high strung to care for relaxing. “Drinking just makes me sleepy!” She shouted to her girlfriend. Whoever had the aux was playing too loud. “I'd rather just stick with water and no hangover.” The girlfriend started to spin a sequence of boy-toys and situationships, but, thank God, her knight in shining armor was across the room. Gary had been a blessing for her. Quiet and kind, Gary never fussed over much and definitely not her. She herself admitted she was set in her ways. More than one boyfriend had enough of their girlfriend preferring her way, always. But Gary didn’t mind, and if so, he made sure to make time where his own passions could be enriched alone. He was so agreeable that even Sarah started to hear her own ridiculousness. Eventually, Sarah humbled herself to even allow Gary to buy her earrings without clear hints. And although they had not made it official, an admission of intentions after a New Year’s kiss seemed too perfect to not come true. Sarah made eye contact with Gary. He’s so cute, she thought, this man is smitten with me. He looks like a deer caught in the headlines. Stunned by yours truly! She cut through the crowd, nearly spilling one guy's beer and pissing off a group of tipsy women. Not her fault she had to grind up on them to get past; the place was backed! She got to Gary, but for whatever reason he didn’t seem to think the same about the space. He was pressing his back into the people behind him. In a room with nowhere to breathe, he made himself a good two foot bubble. “What’s the matter, Gary?” She jokingly pried. “You think I’ll bite?” Gary stiffed into a manic smile. “You? Bite? That’s funny!” “How come?” ... “You good, Gary?” Sarah had to shout, they stood not too far from the stereo system. The aux-guy was trying to blow the speakers on a lub-dub, heavy heartbeat rhythm club song. Sarah wished she could punch that fucker; Gary just said something she couldn’t hear. “What?” “mmm-mmphMm-uhah.” “What?” “mmm-mmphMm-uhah!” “What?!?” Gary latched his cold, leather hands onto her arms, pulling her close, bringing his lips a half a hair away from her ear. Chills radiated from his touch. Where’d his warm, caressing grip go? Dead fish scales felt more inviting. He opened his musty mouth, “I have to go to the bathroom.” And away he scuttled. ***** How could I forget? How could I- Forget? I never forget. Never, ever in all that he’s savored. He remembers the hairs on each animal he’s met, and can categorize their size, color and texture. He knows every moment leading up to panic. He’s seen dreams shattered, and the wailing that ensues. He’d never forget a Sarah or a love for her. ...but what if he had? He turned the water on and left it running. With that damn loud music, no one would hear him pacing. But you can never be sure; he had to think. Prodding each gray tile, avoiding the cracks lest someone break his neck. He fumbled with his shirt buttons, tapping each three times. Had his luck finally run out? It couldn’t have. He was so, so, so sure his wish for a new life would come true. It told me so. It was my time to be someone new. Better. He turned to the mirror. He played this Gary role perfectly. He was Gary! Every freckle and cell. But that wasn’t entirely true, though. It was Gary, but deep, deep in Gary was a great facade, a fake who faked everything. Like I have no face. No face and no life. A fake with no truth. “I- I- I just want to be h-happy.” A red tear streaked down his cheek. It was wiped away in a blink. He could start over again. Find another Gary to play. One who knew no one, not a single person that could find out this fraud. “No, no no, no, NO!” A knock at the door. He doesn’t move. Whoever knocked does, they don’t knock again. He looks up at his reflection. “How could you?” The red tears flow now, smearing when he wipes. They won’t disappear. “How could you forget that BITCH?! That- That-” And then it hit him. There was never a lapse of memory. He was sure of that. He never forgot...because he never knew. Hadn’t he prodded his artistic muse, painted and edited, cut and redrew? He saw and heard a million things about what Gary was and could be. For months! For months, he worked and finally he thought it was done when he heard everything there was to know a hundredth time. “That... bastard .” He snarled. Something wriggled under Gary’s skin. His face twisted like noodles spun on a fork. He turned the lights off. “That bastard ...was supposed to be me. ” ***** The ball dropped half an hour ago. There was still most of everyone dancing about, but the wind was moving the crowd to the door. Sarah hadn’t seen Gary since their brief encounter. She squeezed past the drunk party goers. Struggling to get to a hallway illuminated by a cool green LED. It was like walking into a tunnel of irradiated moss. It was otherworldly. At the center of the hallway, across from a bare wall, the bathroom door sunk into itself. A somber number played for the couples. Sarah wondered how long a man could take to poop. She knocked. Knock. Knock. Knock. The door opened without a creak or groan. Solid black met her. “Gary? You in there?” A moment came and went. “He didn’t mention you.” He replied. Sarah stared as if a tragedy was unfolding. “He didn’t mention you! I knew I didn’t forget!” “Gary?” “No.” He gurgled. “Sarah.” He declared. Silence in the loudness, Sarah fell back into the wall and stuck. “Gary?” From the solid black appeared a green spot. It became a nose. A forehead. Cheeks. Mouth and eyes. Plain and plastic. “Gary. Gary? GARYYYy-y-y-y?!?” The face hung mute. In sound and expression. Still like a dying street lamp. Emotionless as a gray day. Sickening as spotless porcelain. Lips spread, gaped. A toothless bite bore a wide smile. Too large and wide a smile! The face fell forward.