The End is Near

The radio has been playing static for about a month now. It makes sense, I suppose. Not many people would want to continue working at their jobs if they only had a month to live. The last thing that the radio played before going down was a frantic message: “ I-I’ve just been informed that a meteor shower that was projected to glide past Earth has changed its course. It’s going to hit Earth and take everything with it in a month. Everyone, be safe.” After that, the static began. For now, I guess I’ll have to kick it old school and use CDs. I rummage through my car’s glove compartment and take out a Bob Dylan CD. I push the CD into the player; it crackles before projecting Dylan’s voice singing “The Times They Are A-Changin.’” 

“How fitting,” I say out loud, recalling how much the world has changed in just a matter of weeks. The first few days were brutal; everyone scrambled for food, gas, and all the other “essentials” they’d need as if some cans of food would save them from the inevitability of death. Others became religious zealots shouting that God would save them. Scientists scrambled to find a way to intercept the meteoroids, but they had no luck. I’m brought to the present by the swinging of the red rosary hanging off my rearview mirror. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it, even though it didn’t carry a happy memory. I continued watching it rock left, right, left, right, just a second off beat from the music until I reached my destination. 

I get out of the old blue Honda Civic and see the paint chipping off the door. I meant to fix it, but it didn’t matter now. Looking up to the orange sky, I see the meteors draw closer, serving as a reminder of how little time I have left to do what I came here for. I take my eyes off the sky and gaze at the reddish brown brick apartment, and make my way upstairs. Finding myself at a familiar door, I take a deep breath. It’s been a little over a month since I last saw her.

I bring my hand up to the door a few times, trying to muster up the courage to knock. After a few attempts, I slowly knock on her door. 

Thump thump thump. 

“Who is it?” a familiar voice calls out while opening the door. 

My breath hitches when I see her. Her eyebrows raise slightly at the sight of me. She has her copper red hair raised in her signature slick back, a loose-fitting T-shirt, and black tights. “Hey Jasmine, can I come in?” I say, almost too quickly. She doesn’t respond but opens the door wider and walks to her kitchen counter. Her apartment is covered with training mats and broken-in ballet shoes.

“Sorry, did I interrupt your practice?” I look at her, seeing if annoyance would flush across her face. 

“It’s fine,” she replies while looking away from me before cautiously looking again. I can tell she’s observing me slightly, her eyes moving from my curly, coffee-toned hair to my cream-colored, long-sleeved shirt and blue, baggy jeans, until they reach my old, dirt-brown Converse. We stand around for a bit before she sighs and speaks again. “What are you doing here, Elena? I haven’t heard from you since you dumped me.” Her emerald eyes met mine now, and for a second, I felt like the world had already been destroyed, leaving the two of us alone. 

“I wanted to see you. This last month has felt like I’m already in hell because you weren’t with me.” 

“You’re the one who decided to leave me, Elena. You can’t just show up now.” Jasmine is leaning on one of her support beams now with her eyebrows furrowed and her hands crossed.

“I was scared, Jas, my mom found out about us.” I feel my heart beating against my chest, faster and faster, just like it did back then. “She was so angry. It made me feel like what we had was wrong, but this last month, my thoughts have been of you, not her hatred of us.” She’s the only woman I’ve ever pleaded to; I can only hope she sees my sincerity.

“I didn’t know that, Jesus, why didn’t you tell me? I thought you stopped liking me, I thought I was coming on too strong.” She uncrosses her hands and comes towards me. She’s gotten taller; before, she had been the same height as me, but now I have to look up to see her. I can see she’s hesitating to pull me in, and she decides not to. I haven’t fully convinced her.

“Come to my apartment, Jas, I want to show you something,” I say, almost like a whisper. I’ve been imagining asking her this since I decided to drive over. 

“I don’t know Elena. I won’t deny I missed you, but I was so hurt when you left.” Her eyes soften, but her voice is tense, as if holding back from crying. 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, all the time I’ve missed this past month and all the time we won’t have after today.” She stares at me in my entirety. Scanning me for a reason to say no, or maybe yes. 

She sighs while sliding her hands down from her eyes to her nose before putting them down to her side and replying reluctantly, “Well, I’ve got nothing better to do.” The car’s door shuts with a thud, and I begin driving home. “Well, if one thing hasn’t changed in the last month, it’s definitely how messy this car is.” Jasmine’s looking around. I see her pause when she sees the red rosary. 

“Yeah, well, I figured there wasn’t any point in cleaning it, not like it’ll be around any longer,” I say while trying to keep my eyes on the road instead of Jasmine. She laughs in a sing-song way. 

“Got any of your CDs?” she asks while opening my glove compartment. I don’t answer; she’s already found them. She closes her eyes and randomly picks a CD, putting it into the record player. Her eyebrows go up in surprise when the song starts. “Hey, isn’t this the song that was playing when we first met?” 

“It was. I remember, I was working on a painting of a cat.” 

“It was cute seeing you focus so intensely on each brushstroke while painting its whiskers; it gave me the courage to talk to you.” She blushes slightly, her eyes looking at everything but me. I feel myself let out a little laugh. 

“When I went to the dance recital you invited me to, I felt the same. I knew I had to ask you on a date.” This time, I allow myself to look at her. 

“Really? I was so nervous up there, knowing you were watching.” 

“You looked like a canary in that yellow tutu, jumping and twirling in your solo.” We both giggle at the thought before going back to listening to the music. 

We drove for a while, passing a billboard for a local church, graffitied over by the words: THE END IS NEAR 

We pass families celebrating birthdays of years they’ll never live to see in their front yard, people setting up a picnic to watch the meteors as they inch closer, and weary people muttering to themselves. I keep driving until Jasmine tells me to stop. 

“Why do you need me to stop?” I glance at her. 

“Look!” She laughs with a look of awe in her eyes, “It’s Bearacade! Let’s go in, maybe their claw machines and the dance floor still work.” Bearacade is the local arcade full of claw machines, bowling, karaoke, and a dance floor. Its neon sign flickers as we make our way inside, finding plastic soda cups all around the floor and bright neon plush machines toppled over. “Looks like someone beat us to it.” She is silent for a moment before walking towards the center of the polished wooden dance floor. “Come on, let’s dance!” she says, revealing a wide grin paired with a look of wonder that only a kid in a candy store during Christmas would have.

“C’mon, Jas, you know I can’t dance.” I start remembering back when we first started dating, Jas had tried teaching me some ballet moves when I first went to her apartment. I was as stiff as a statue, and she threw her head back laughing as I tried doing a Pilé but ended up falling on the floor. 

“This isn’t ballet! Just sway with me to the music.” She’s trying not to laugh as she says this with a mischievous look in her eye. 

I sigh heavily before going to turn on the disco lights and then meeting her on the dance floor. A soft piano melody fills the room from her phone, and Jasmine extends her hand out to me. I feel my cheeks flush red. I haven’t felt this nervous since the last time we held hands, when my mom’s church friend caught us. I slowly take her hand, and she pulls me close. I see myself in her clear emerald eyes. The lights change rapidly to blue, red, purple, and green like fireworks as we sway and twirl around the hard wooden dance floor. I feel hypnotized by her; she’s looking down into my eyes with a thin yet wide smile on her face. She’s looking at me as she used to, full of love, and I know I have the same look on my face. 

“Do you remember? This was where we had our first date.” She doesn’t stop staring at me. 

“How could I forget? You were so impressive on the claw machine. I’ve never seen someone walk out with so many prizes.” We both smile, recalling the pile of Monchichi, Sanrios, and soft bears we left with that day. She let me keep them all. 

The song ends, and I find it hard to break away from her. We make our way back to the car with our hands intertwined. We reminisce as I continue driving us to my apartment. We talk about our other dates to fast-paced amusement parks, fancy restaurants we’d scrape money for, critter-filled aquariums, ballet shows Jas would star in, and art exhibitions I’d go to for references. After talking for about half an hour, Jasmine goes silent. I can tell she wants to ask me something from her nervous glances, playing peek-a-boo. “So, uh, Elena…how’s your mom? Is she going to be in your apartment?” she says while looking at the rosary, then at me. 

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about her a few times during the last month. “She left. When the news broke, she went to some retreat thing with her church. She asked me to come, but I refused. The last thing she did was give me that rosary before walking out the door.”  I see Jasmine’s eyes widen, then squint as her eyebrows furrow. 

“I can’t believe her! Leaving you, and for what? A church? How could she abandon you?” she cries out. 

“I wasn’t too surprised, honestly. I’ve always been a failure in her eyes. Dad splitting before I was born, being an artist instead of having a ‘respectable’ career, and being well, you know…” 

“Gay?” 

“I don’t like labels, but yeah, gay.” 

She’s silent for a while. Jasmine never truly understood my hesitance about liking women. She grew up in a family that accepted everyone. I did not. I decide to break the silence. “I know you don’t get it, Jas, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. Even though the rosary’s a gift that shows she knows nothing about me, it’s still the only thing she’s ever given me.”

Jasmine lets out a sad sigh while closing her eyes for a few seconds. “You’re right,” she replies softly while taking my hand. “I have no idea what that’s like. All I know is we’re together now. That’s good enough.” 

I look at her and feel a smile grow on my face, like a sunflower blooming while looking at the sun. Jasmine’s always been warm. Her softness and kindness envelop me when she’s around. I wonder if I’ve ever offered her that same warmth. 

I see my apartment appear as we drive into my complex’s parking lot. “Looks like your area wasn’t looted.” Jasmine looks around as she gets out of the car. 

“Thankfully. It’d be a pain trying to find the supplies I needed if they stole from me.” “Supplies?” Jasmine asks curiously as she leans in slightly with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” I tease. 

We make our way to my apartment. I take a deep breath, and I feel my mind running a marathon of worry. What if she hates it? What if she finds it weird? My thoughts are interrupted by her sing-song voice. 

“Hurry up, silly! Don’t keep me waiting!” She’s looking eagerly at my door. I slowly turn my doorknob and push open the door.

I hear Jasmine gasp as she comes in. Her eyes start tearing up, making them look more turquoise. “Oh Elena, they’re beautiful!” 

I feel exposed in that room; all the paintings I’ve made over the last month are hanging on the walls. I painted the futures that have died before ever having the chance to live. The future where I’m married, have children and pets, and where I grow old. In every future she’s there, even in futures that wouldn’t have happened anyway, like me running a cafe, being an astronaut, or being a ballerina dancing by her side. I mourn the futures we’d never share, the touches that would never come to fruition, the arguments, the makeups, all of it. She comes to me, hugging me from behind, and we collapse to the ground together. I can feel her tears on my shoulder.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’d make up for all our lost time, even the time after today.” I feel her lips part on my back, letting out a quick laugh before being taken over by a choked-back sob. I feel tears well up in my eyes, and my throat tightens up as if sand is being poured down it. We stay there for a while. I could only hear her silent cries behind me and the ticking of my broken clock, another thing I never got around to fixing. 

“Elena,” she says softly. 

“Yes?” 

“What do you think is going to happen when it’s all over?” 

I stay quiet for a bit. I hadn’t thought much of what would really happen, just what could have been. 

“The outcome of our lives has always been the same. It doesn’t matter how you’ve lived; we will all face the same inescapable judgment of death. I don’t want to focus on what happens after, I want to make sure I live with as little regret as possible, because that’s the only thing I am capable of changing.” She squeezes me tight when I finish speaking. 

“What about you, Jasmine? Have you thought about what happens after today?” I say while turning to look at her. 

“Honestly? I’ve been too scared to. Before you came to pick me up, I was going to spend the day doing what I always did, hoping it would turn out like every other day instead of ending forever. I’m glad you came for me, though. If I were going to spend my last day on Earth with anyone, it would be you,” she says while looking up to me from my chest. We stay silent for a while, basking in each other’s company and warmth. 

“Elena?”

“Hm?” 

“Is your rooftop still open?” 

“Of course it is.” When we were sneaking around, we’d go to my rooftop to avoid my mother. We make our way to the small rectangular rooftop and lie on the only patch of grass up there. 

“Look at that, Jas, there’s a star!” I haven’t seen a star once in all the times we’d come up here. We look up at that singular star surrounded by the bright orange meteors for a while in silence. For a moment, I believe it’s God judging us for lying together. But then I look at Jas smiling softly and realize no God would ever judge us. The meteors have crept even closer now, a painful reminder we’ve run out of time. I thought I’d be terrified seeing them, but I feel strangely tranquil. Even though our lives together are ephemeral, I’m still with Jas now, and I’d never be terrified with her next to me now. 

“Jas?” 

“Yes? 

“I love you.” 

She looks at me, smiling radiantly. “I love you too, Elena.”

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