Human heart | By : fadingsummer Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Daft Punk Views: 1000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not know the members of Daft Punk, and this is a work of fiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I wish to insult or harm no one. |
***
As usual, he wants to tell him what he would like to do, what he would like them to make. But he doesn’t know how to put it. That’s not all; he doesn’t dare tell him what he’s really thinking. He knows what his attempt will probably amount to: an interested, but non-understanding look. A few questions. Shame on his part. And a retreat.
He has told him what he thought multiple times, but those times it was all about simpler things. A song. A mask. A comment that didn’t need any explanation. He doesn’t want to explain himself, because he knows he will reveal too much. He should never reveal too much to Thomas.
But writing a script is difficult, even for a film without dialogue. They talk a lot, they discuss everything. It’s a very tiring process, and Guy-Manuel fears that a moment will come when he is too tired to stop himself from saying unnecessary things. Thomas listens to him, he always takes him seriously, and he would be crazy to take it for granted. That’s why he makes an effort, every minute he speaks with him. Talking with Thomas is all he has ever wanted to master, and he has almost perfected that skill, after so many years.
Regardless of his intention to be careful, he lets Thomas pour him another glass of wine. It’s getting late. They are getting somewhere. Thomas is scribbling ideas on a notebook with a felt-tipped pen. Guy-Manuel knows he has had that particular pen for about two weeks, and where he has bought it. He remembers where it has been (on the table, on the plane, next to Thomas’s bed, on the floor because he had accidentally thrown it from there). Thomas wouldn’t even know these facts himself. Thomas forgets, Thomas lets go. Thomas simply lives. He does everything Guy-Manuel is completely incapable of.
‘Wouldn’t that be symbolic?’
Guy-Manuel looks up, realizing he hasn’t been listening when he was supposed to. ‘Symbolic?’ is all he can get out of his mouth.
‘Yeah. Of them being two halves of the same system. You know, together until the end.’
Cursing the wine and his inexcusable weariness, Guy-Manuel asks what it would be symbolic of.
Thomas points at the paper. ‘The ending. I just told you. They have switches. On their backs. They pull them for one another so they can self-destruct. They stand still, facing each other until they explode.’
Guy-Manuel nods slowly. He understands what Thomas is going for. The dark, desperate way in which he wants to end the robots’ failed projects, however, is alarming him. He wants to ask him about it, he wants to know if he really feels that way about- well, them. Their cooperation. Their friendship. He thinks about it, but backs away, scared of how deep the possible meanings of Thomas’s idea are. He steers his mind away from those thoughts and focuses on the script. The idea of self-destruction, however discomforting, is really good. But there is something... something the robot that is, somehow, him, would not do. He would not be bothered by being what he was, not as much as Thomas’s robot would. Being without emotion suits him. Other than Thomas, he has really been without emotion for some time now, and he has never missed it. The only thing he would miss...
He inhales abruptly. He shouldn’t say this out loud, unless it’s in a closed room when he’s completely alone. But then again, the script is his as well. In doubt, he stares at the piece of paper before his eyes.
‘What do you think? Is it a good way to end the story?’
‘Yes...’ he says, hesitantly. ‘But maybe...’
Scared to death, he stops. But of course, Thomas insists.
‘Maybe what?’
He doesn’t answer. Thomas lets him think, and he only makes it worse by being so kind. He never wanted him to wait for him.
‘I think...’ Wrong start, his mind says, wrong start! But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t correct himself. He finishes his wine.
‘I think your robot should go first. And mine later.’
‘Not at the same time? Why not together?’
‘Because-‘ his voice trembles, he is not sure he will be able to go on, ‘-you- you always seemed to be more human than me. A contrast between them might be nice-‘
He looks at Thomas while silently crying for help, who seems to quietly consider what he has said. It may not be visible on the outside, but his willingness not to give up on him, not to leave him, to listen to him when no one else listened to him, is killing him. He has to speak his mind, not in spite, but because of all the years Thomas has stood by him. Because of all he has done for him.
‘If you had to be a robot for the rest of your life, you would say that a life without emotion or humanity is no life at all. You wouldn’t want to live without those concepts.’
He finds his eyes, shyly, realizing with immense weight, that Thomas’s reaction will be decisive for... for everything. ‘Right?’
Thomas nods, somehow sensing Guy-Manuel is not done explaining, thereby forcing him to say more.
‘Well, I believe that I- I am different.’ He tries to keep his breath, his tears, under control. If his body is left unsupervised, it would ruin more than he wants to think about.
‘I wouldn’t mind living without emotions. Not as much as you...’
‘Really?’ Thomas asks. Guy-Manuel has never felt more uptight, and feels his face becoming warmer and warmer. If only he could hide it.
‘Yes, because-‘ he cringes at the strange sounds his throat makes, outside of his will’s reach. Why are you making me do this, Thomas? Why did we have to come up with such a personal story? It’s almost as if it couldn’t be anything else, as if it came to us naturally...
‘Because I don’t care as long as I’m with you.’
Thomas is staring at him, he knows, but he can’t look back. He holds on to his chair.
‘Your robot would explode, and I would... I would... It would destroy me. I would linger, but try to move on. Until I realize I can’t do it, not without you. I can’t do anything without you.’
The truth hurts even more when it’s thrown out, when it’s there for everyone to see. He’s mumbling, but Thomas hears him. He hears every word. The night is very quiet.
‘Guy-Man,’ he hears Thomas’s gentle voice next to him. ‘Don’t cry. We’re not killing ourselves tonight.’
He presses his hands against his face as his chest trembles. ‘I know. But you might... you might leave me. One day. You just reminded me.’
Thomas gets up from his chair. He hears him as he kneels down before his chair, he even hears him breathe, but accompanying visuals are too much at the moment. He keeps his hands pressed against his eyes.
Finally, Thomas grabs his wrists and pulls his hands away, softly. Guy-Manuel still doesn’t want to open his eyes.
‘I’m not going to leave you,’ he hears Thomas say. Something in his voice shocks him through his entire body, and even though he has no idea why he is having such a strong reaction, he looks at him. Thomas’s eyes make him understand, understand everything he wants to know. He is still holding his hands in his, and as they are lying there, on his lap, he feels how warm his body is.
‘I’ll never leave you.’
Guy-Manuel’s mind is relatively clear for once. Everything is Thomas to him, and it is different than it used to be. Less cold, less grey.
‘I want to hold you,’ he tells him, dreaming out loud.
Thomas guides him to the carpet, and Guy-Manuel hides in his arms as soon as his knees touch the floor. He feels Thomas pressing him against his chest more tightly, and senses the beating of his human heart. For him, he would give up everything.
Tuesday, the 4th of October, 2011
00.49 AM
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