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The snowstorm is unrelenting, and Bronco drums his cold fingers upon his car’s steering wheel as the traffic around him slows to a halt. Shadows cling to him, dim memories that have been steadily growing stronger in the presence of a bitter winter.
He closes his eyes for a moment, and he can hear the phantom cries of a child calling for help. It’s a nightmare that was locked away until recently, but over the past two weeks it’s grown stronger with each falling flake of snow. He had bound his friend’s wrists, before locking them both in the car…
Their amnesia, their frostbite, their trauma. It’s all his fault.
Bronco snarls as he opens his eyes. He revs his engine in the vain hope that it will encourage the other drivers to move faster and spare him from the painful memories.
Maybe it would have been wiser to stay at home, but it’s Christmas Eve and he can’t stand the thought of leaving Simeon alone for the holidays. The visit is entirely unplanned, at first Bronco had been suffocating in too much guilt to arrange an evening together. And, when he finally did call, each message went unanswered. It’s deeply worrying, despite it not being uncommon for Simeon to fall silent.
Finally, the traffic begins to move and Bronco’s car crawls towards the circus.
It’s the most despicable time of year. Christmas leaves its nauseating touch on everything, and each embrace reminds Simeon of the past. At least his trailer is warm thanks to the portable heater and piles of blankets he’s wrapped around him.
But frostbite and amnesia apparently wasn’t enough for winter’s insatiable, merciless grasp. Just a few days earlier he slipped on a patch of ice, leaving his ankle sprained and swollen. Instead of going to hospital and risking a chance of being discovered, Simeon asked the circus props department for a pair of crutches. To his annoyance, Regina had decided to decorate them with festive tinsel.
Last Christmas, Bronco had insisted on taking him ice skating. It was surprisingly fun stumbling across the rink, even though the two of them were absolutely terrible at it. But this year Simeon is far too irritable and miserable to plan anything with his so-called friend. Perhaps it would help to have company, but the pain makes it hard to mask his disdain.
Although if there’s one good thing that can be said about Bronco, it’s that he doesn’t run from Simeon’s true self. He’s oblivious to his rage, but he welcomes his devious sense of humour and quick wit.
He lets out a frustrated sigh as he lays upon his patchwork sofa. Sleep calls to him, thanks to another restless night. He fights to stay awake, until eventually there’s a knock on his trailer door.
Reluctantly, Simeon grabs his crutches and hobbles over to open it, but he nearly slams it shut again when he sees Bronco. The bodyguard is armed with a couple of carrier bags and a smile that turns into a concerned frown when he sees the crutches.
“Si! What happened? Are you alright?!”
“This?” Simeon waves one of the crutches in Bronco’s general direction. “It’s nothing. I just slipped, that’s all.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve been here, helping you out!”
“Maybe that’s why I didn’t say anything. I don’t need you flapping around me like a mother hen.” Christmas always brings out his more irritable side, but it never seems to dissuade Bronco.
“Don’t be a dick. C’mon, Simeon, let me take a look at it. First aid training is part of being a bodyguard, and I’d bet my gun you ain’t been to a doctor.”
“...Alright, fine. The swelling’s been worrying me a little,” Simeon reluctantly concedes. He unsteadily walks back to the sofa and sits down, resting his injured left leg upon the cushions. “What’s with the bags, Bronco?”
“It’s Christmas! And I know you hate it just as much as I do, but I reckon it’s better when we’re together,” Bronco says as he kneels down beside him. His hands are cold as he rolls down Simeon’s sock, revealing his swollen ankle. “Owch. You really did a number on this.”
“...I did.” Despite everything, Simeon’s venom fades a little as Bronco gently examines his injury. He’s so tender that, for a moment, Simeon could almost believe that someone other than Kanis cares about him. It’s a pathetic, torturous thought.
“We might need to put some ice on this…” Bronco says.
“No way!” Simeon exclaims. He tries to pull his ankle back in protest, but he winces as pain shoots down his leg.
“Okay, okay! I just think it’d help with the swelling.”
“I’m cold enough already. Do you want me to freeze to death, Bronco?” Simeon asks. To his surprise, Bronco’s worried expression shifts into a pained wince. Has he remembered something?
“...Don’t say shit like that.” Bronco rests his hand beside Simeon’s ankle, before carefully rolling his sock back up. He grabs one of the discarded blankets and passes it over to him. “I’d never want you to suffer, Simeon.”
It’s too late for that. Silence falls between them as a dozen poisonous retorts fill Simeon’s mind. Bronco lets out a sigh as he gets to his feet.
“I know you’re not doing great. You’ve hated Christmas for years,” Bronco says. “And I kept wondering, am I making things worse by showing up? But I think it’ll be harder if you’re alone, and I figure the least I can do is try and be there for you.”
Something’s wrong. Bronco has always been suspiciously compassionate towards him, leaving Simeon struggling to find an ulterior motive. But today there’s an aura of resignation. Or is it guilt? He could send Bronco away. It would be preparation for the lifetime of solitude that will soon await him once he’s gone. But maybe…
…Maybe it would be better to spend one final Christmas together. Next year Bronco will be nothing but pale white bones, buried beneath the ground. And Simeon will be free of the burden between them, because every time Bronco smiles he feels his weakness grow.
Next Christmas it’ll all be over.
He’ll be alone. He will always be alone.
Why does that make his heart ache?
“Simeon? What’s up?”
“...It’s nothing, Bronco.”
“You sure?” Bronco uncertainty places his hand upon Simeon’s shoulder, and it’s a touch that’s so different to when he bound his arms and legs. He almost wants to take his hand and cling to it, digging his nails in and letting him feel the pain he’s suffering.
But all the embraces they have shared have been a knife in the back of his deceased father. So instead, he lets out a deep, shuddering sigh. Exhaustion sweeps over him, laced with hints of nightmares.
There’s so much Bronco could say to break the silence, but he can’t find the words to apologise for what he’s done. Perhaps Christmas Eve isn’t the right time. Tomorrow, maybe? Or the day after, when Christmas is over?
“I’ll be okay,” Simeon wearily says as he gently removes Bronco’s hand. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I get it. Look, what if I just cook something for us? Forget about Christmas Eve, it’ll just be food, and damn good food at that.”
“...To be honest, I’ve barely eaten today,” Simeon confesses. Bronco shakes his head, although he’s unsurprised. His friend’s eating habits have never been the healthiest.
“That settles it. You sit back and relax, I’ll cook up a nice roast dinner. Afterwards we can watch a few of our favourite movies, or play some games,” Bronco decides. Simeon nods, before burying himself back under his pile of blankets.
Something’s wrong, but Bronco doesn’t know how to tackle the tense atmosphere. Instead, he distracts himself from his regrets by throwing himself into cooking a delicious meal. Everything needs to be perfect, from the roast turkey to the sausages wrapped in bacon. Should he add honey to the roast carrots, or leave them plain? Simeon doesn’t like sweet things, but perhaps a simple glaze would be okay?
He’s dragged away from his thoughts when he hears Simeon let out a quiet snore, and a smile tugs at Bronco’s lips as he glances towards him. His friend often complains about nightmares, so it’s good to see him get some well-earned rest. Instead of disturbing him by joining him on the sofa, Bronco plays a few rounds of online chess while he waits for the meal to cook.
But, after a while, Simeon begins to murmur to himself. He whispers quiet words that suddenly turn into desperate pleas for help that sounds far too familiar.
He’s dreaming of the car.
Bronco puts down his phone before hurrying to Simeon’s side. It's hard to make out what he’s saying, but the word ‘dad’ is intermingled in it all. It conjures up images of his own father’s cruelty, and the sting of pain that always accompanies him. A chill runs through him, despite the warm air blasting from the heater.
“Simeon?” His hand shakes as he lightly touches Simeon’s shoulder. His friend jolts back, and he yelps from the pain of his injured leg.
“Get away from me!” Simeon yells. The words are a deep cut, but Bronco accepts the wound. His hand drops to his side as he watches Simeon force his breathing back under control. “...It’s nothing. It was just another messed up nightmare.”
His distrustful eyes tell another story. Simeon knows it was real, doesn’t he? What does he think of Bronco, who’s trying to be a loyal friend despite causing him so much pain?
They need to talk. If he waits another day, he might find an excuse to bury his crimes and keep up the masquerade. The past can’t continue to devour them both.
“I’m sorry,” Bronco says softly.
“What? Why are you apologising?”
“The car. It wasn’t just a nightmare. But maybe you already knew that?”
“...I don’t want to talk about this.”
“No! You’ve gotta hear me out. I fucked up, Simeon, and it’s my fault we ended up in that car!” Bronco exclaims. Simeon stares at him in stunned silence, but now he’s begun to talk Bronco can’t hold back. “It was because of my dad, but I can’t just blame him. I’m the one who listened to him. I’m the one who tied you up. I’m so sorry. I can’t even ask him why he threatened me into doing it! I don’t remember, and I can’t ask because he was murdered on the same damn day!”
Maybe he’s said too much, too soon. Simeon stares at him as if he’s just turned his entire world upside down, before shaking his head in disbelief.
“Did you just say your dad was murdered?!”
“That’s the part you’re focusing on?”
“So what if it is? Bronco, you owe me an explanation! Now.”
He’s right, even though it’s perplexing that he’s chosen to focus on that aspect. Reluctantly, Bronco tells him everything he knows about the past, including the hazy memories of being beaten. He tells him what little he knows about his dad’s murder, and what he’s heard of the shambolic trial. Simeon doesn’t hold back from asking question after question, and many of them are deeply painful.
But it doesn’t matter. The pain is a small price he’s more than willing to pay.
Occasionally, Simeon looks up details on his phone. Bronco helps him match his ring to his father’s insignia, before slipping the piece of jewellery into his pocket. It had been an uncomfortable memento over the past few weeks that only heightened his misery.
Finally, he reluctantly talks about the car and the snowstorm.
“Stop. I already know this part,” Simeon mutters.
“...I’m so damn sorry, Simeon. It might not mean much, but sorry is all I have. Honestly, I’m amazed that you remembered what I did and still stuck by me. That says a lot.”
Bronco’s right. It does say a lot, but the reasons are so different to what Bronco believes. But now isn’t the time to expose the hatred that drowned him for so many years. Simeon runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the truth sinks in.
Bronco had betrayed him. But he was a frightened, abused child. And Simeon’s own father…
“Did you find out anything about my dad?” Simeon tentatively asks.
“I’m not sure. If I’m right, this isn’t something you want to hear…”
“Tell me. I need to know, Bronco.”
The bodyguard lets out a heavy sigh. Is he trying to protect him? All this time Simeon was looking for an ulterior motive, but maybe Bronco truly cares for him. Or perhaps he’s trying to ease the guilt of his childhood? Either way, he isn’t motivated by malice.
“There’s pictures of the two of us back home, and there’s a guy who could be him. I can bring them over tomorrow,” Bronco says.
“That’s better than nothing. Why wouldn’t I want to hear that?”
“The thing is, his name was scrawled on the back of one of them. ‘Carmelo Gusto.’ I did some digging and the guy left the country around eighteen years ago. It’s a big reason why I never mentioned my dad’s death, I figured you’d want to know more about your own.”
His dad lives. And, instead of rescuing him from the orphanage, he abandoned him. Rage begins to swell, drowning out the rest of his emotions.
“Leave.” It’s not a request that spills from Simeon’s lips, but a demand.
“What?”
“I said leave! I need to think about this, Bronco! And I can’t do that with you here!”
“I can’t go after everything I’ve told you! What if you break down or have more nightmares?”
“So what if I do? I’m a grown man, I can deal with a few bad dreams!”
“Yeah, but…”
“Just go. I can’t cope with this right now, Bronco. The thought of my dad makes my blood boil, and you don’t want to see where this could lead!”
Bronco looks at him silently. He studies his brown eyes and furrowed brow, his taught lips and distraught expression.
“I don’t want to abandon you, Simeon.”
“Like he did to me?”
“...That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. Just go, Bronco. I need time alone.” Is it compassion that’s driving Bronco’s stubbornness? Simeon isn’t sure, but he knows he can’t reveal all the anger he’s felt over the years. He doesn’t know where the truth will lead.
“...You’ll call me if you need me, right?”
“I will.” It’s a lie, but Bronco doesn’t need to know that. Bronco looks at him doubtfully, before uncertainly heading towards the door. He seems deeply unsure, but little does he know, his revelations have just saved his own life.
The door closes behind him, and Simeon is alone. His father lives, and a question emerges of how much does Carmelo Gusto care about him? Disdain creeps through his heart and claws at his chest. It would’ve been so easy for Gusto to go to the orphanage and find him.
He throws one of the crutches across the room, and it clatters against the wall. Angry tears spill from his eyes as he envisions a life he never got to live. And it wasn’t just Bronco’s fault.
…Had it ever been Bronco’s fault? It’s a new, unfamiliar thought, awoken by the fear Bronco once held for his father. It had been so easy to blame him, or to assume he was a willing co-conspirator. Instead, he’d been terrorised by the man who should protect him.
It’s all too much. He leans back against the sofa as hysteria overtakes him, a mix of laughter, tears and rage. What if he shouted out the truth to Bronco, destroying everything in the process?
Eventually, he calms down enough to search for more information about Gusto via his phone. His anguish grows when he finds an image of him outside a bakery in Zheng Fa, living a happy life without him.
There’s something deeply familiar about his eyes. They draw Simeon in, reigniting more buried memories. Gusto was a self-absorbed man, who never had time for his son. He made him his taste tester, treating Simeon like a tool rather than his own child.
Was this the man he would have killed Bronco for? Despite all his faults, Bronco at least tried to be there for him. The only reason he left tonight was because Simeon insisted.
Simeon lets out another cry of despair. Did his dad care? Did he love him? Did he mean anything to him?
He gives into his anger as a string of threats and curses spill from his lips. But even the fiercest fires ease, and his rage turns into tears once more, accompanied by the pain of being abandoned. If he hadn’t known the truth, he would have killed the closest thing he has to a…
To a friend?
…Can he even call him that, after all the disdain he felt?
But there had been warmth among the clouds, even though he tried to ignore it. Moments of laughter, or shared grievances. Smiles, jokes and even the rare, weary hug. They had genuinely been friends once, at the orphanage, before his memories came back..
It’s all too much. Finally, he remembers the food Bronco was cooking, and he turns the oven off before the meal is burned to cinders. But he doesn’t feel like eating.
Maybe he should rest? But his turmoil builds up, as his emotions threaten to spiral once more…
Bronco knows he shouldn’t have mentioned Gusto. He’s not sure if he should have mentioned any of it, but the guilt of his own actions were eating him up inside. He drives home in silence as he tries his best to ignore the brightly coloured Christmas lights that decorate every street corner.
The traffic has eased, but the journey is still uncomfortably long. Finally, he parks outside of his house. Bronco shakes his head, before slumping back against his seat. Memories envelop him, sweeping him back to when they were children.
It’s not just the car he recollects, but also Christmas days at the orphanage. Simeon had been happier then, perhaps because he didn’t remember Bronco’s betrayal. But they were still bittersweet occasions as they mourned the pain of their missing families. If only he hadn’t listened to his dad. Maybe they would have been able to have a normal childhood…
…Or perhaps that was never a thing for him. Nothing he can remember about his own dad paints him in a positive light, and Simeon’s dad had left him behind seemingly without a second thought.
He remains in the car for hours as he grows lost in thought. The snow grows heavier, but he knows it’s not as severe as that fateful night. Besides, if the worst happens, he can break open the car window. He wishes he could step back in time and save their former selves. How did they ever make it out of their frozen tomb?
Eventually, his stomach rumbles and he suddenly remembers the roast dinner cooking in the oven. What if his friend has fallen asleep and left the oven on? He quickly fumbles for his phone to call Simeon, but there’s no answer. He tries again, before leaving him a text message. Thankfully it gets read, but there’s no reply.
His heart is heavy as he trudges back inside. After feeding his pet cat, he heads upstairs and collapses upon his bed. Initially he had every intention of changing his clothes, but now it feels like too much effort. He just wants to lay there and forget all of the pain he’s caused.
He was supposed to be a knight, but instead he’s a failure.
Sleep captures him, but it’s a restless ordeal until he’s jolted awake by a loud banging. There’s another strike, and he groggily realises someone is knocking on his door. He glances at his clock to see it’s two in the morning.
Bronco hurries downstairs, and when he opens the door he sees Simeon standing waiting on the doorstep. He’s wrapped up warm and struggling to lean upon his crutches while carrying a couple of familiar looking carrier bags.
“Simeon?! How did you get here?! Are you alright?”
“I got a taxi.” Simeon impatiently nods at Bronco to move aside. He quickly takes the bags from him before leading him into the living room, where Simeon gratefully sinks onto the sofa.
Once, Simeon had been envious of Bronco’s warm home. Those feelings haven’t entirely died, but tonight, he savours the feeling of safety.
“Can I get you anything, Si? A hot drink, maybe?”
“No. Bronco, we need to talk, but I’m not ready for that.” He hated him for so long, but now that anger is slipping away like snow melting beneath the sun. “Names aside, you know I’m no saint. You gave me a lot to think about, both about you…and about us.”
“...Yeah. I figure it’d be too much to ask you to move on,” Bronco says. He’s far too understanding, but perhaps it’s because he doesn’t know the true extent of Simeon’s rage.
“...Everything was too much. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My dad. I loved him so much, and for what?! He left me! And…” And he came so close to losing Bronco, too. Only a few hours ago the thought of Bronco dying left him feeling both elated yet deeply nauseous, but now only the sickness remains. He shakes his head, unable and unwilling to express that he would have set him up for death. Perhaps, one day, they can talk about that. For now, there’s too many wounds that need healing.
“Hey, I’m here. It all fucking sucks, but I’m here, Simeon. And unlike him, I’m never gonna leave you.”
Simeon lets out a choked laugh. Bronco has so much loyalty towards the man who had his worst intentions at heart. But maybe they can create a fresh start? It won’t be easy, and he’s not let go of all his pain, but he can’t stand the thought of being alone tonight.
He definitely hasn’t forgiven Bronco, but he’s accepted that he was a victim. And that’s a start.
“...It’s always been too much. Christmas, I mean. Even before my memories came back I hated seeing all the happy families…” Simeon admits.
“Yeah. That’s one of the things that pisses me off about Rook, y’know? Guy’s probably enjoying a big traditional Christmas Day with his loved ones,” Bronco mutters. Simeon rolls his eyes.
“Forget Rook, I want to talk about us. Do you remember the year you spent weeks doing extra chores for Fifi, just to save up the money to get me that exclusive plushie I wanted?” It had been a toy cat with a removable replica of Onyankopon's mask.
“It was totally worth it to see you smile,” Bronco grins.
“Yeah, but then I left it behind. It probably ended up in the hands of some other kid..."
“...Why did you go? It wasn’t because of me, was it?”
“No. The car isn’t the only demon I’m facing," Simeon mutters. He frowns and shakes his head. "That's another conversational dead-end, so don't try and go digging."
“...Alright. But speaking of, I kept that plushie after you left. I figured you’d think it's weird, but since you mentioned it…”
“No way?! Really?”
“Yeah. It’s in my cupboard upstairs,” Bronco smiles awkwardly. He must have kept the toy as a memento of Simeon while he was gone. “If you want it back, I suppose you could consider it a bonus Christmas gift.”
“Sap.” But he’s grateful, even though he doesn’t say it. Neither of them feel like sleeping, so Bronco brews them both warm drinks. He also reheats some of the food Simeon had brought over, and it still tastes good despite being a little burnt. Afterwards they lounge on the sofa together while sharing memories of years gone by, until Simeon begins to fall asleep with his head resting upon Bronco's shoulder. He wakes up when he feels the bodyguard stir beside him.
“Don’t leave,” Simeon mutters without thinking. He hates himself for it, but his disdain fades when Bronco wraps his arms around him to pull him into a hug. He feels safe. And, this time, there’s no sting of betrayal to taint his feelings.
“I’m just going to get some blankets, I’ll be back before you know it,” Bronco promises.
Simeon yawns as he watches him go. There’s still so much uncertainty in his life, so many threats to his existence. And, despite the truth tentatively emerging, the pain of that night hasn’t died. Perhaps it never truly will.
But, despite everything, maybe second chances do exist.