《heart》vernon

3、第 3 章

　　At Park Asterix, after hurtling toward the ground from a gruesome height, they navigate their way to the souvenir shop, walking wobbly-kneed and dizzy. Bradley won't let go of his video camera and he films himself walking and talking at the same time. He starts filming Colin too, adjusting the focus, before zooming into his face.

　　"Bradley." Colin says, sheepishly yanking off his earphone from one ear and scuffing his shoe on the ground. "Bradley, stop filming me. Come on."

　　Bradley ignores him, shrugging. "I'm hungry." he says, and looks at his watch. "What time did Johnny say he wants us back here?"

　　Colin shrugs. "Do you want me to call him? I think I may have enough minutes left for a call." He takes out his phone.

　　Bradley waves a hand. "Whatever, let's just get something to eat." he says. He sniffs the air, and there is a pause before he follows the general direction of the scent. "Chestnuts." he says, walking toward it.

　　Colin follows him to a park vendor selling roasted chestnuts for three euros a bag. Bradley buys one and they sit on a bench. They watch tourists stroll past, throngs of families on a holiday and the occasional couple walking hand in hand.

　　Bradley hands him the bag of chestnuts to share. Colin inhales for a moment the sweet, earthy scent that they emanate and his mouth waters as he roots through the paper bag eagerly, scooping a handful. Bradley just laughs at him and tips his head back, sunglasses glinting in the afternoon sun. He scoots closer, draping an arm haphazardly across the seat, right behind Colin's shoulders. He taps a rhythm against the bench, fingers drumming the chorus to Boston's More Than A Feeling. His video camera is turned off, folded neatly on his lap. Another vendor rolls his cart across the courtyard. He's selling ice cream and candy apples.

　　"You know what the smell of apples reminds me of?" Bradley says after they watch the man make a sale. His hands stop moving for a second.

　　"What?" Colin says.

　　Bradley looks at him, and then he turns away and smiles. Colin can't see his eyes behind the dark tint of his sunglasses but he imagines the creases in the corners of Bradley's eyes anyway, if the way his mouth twists is any indication.

　　"Summertime." Bradley says. "When I was a kid I used to play football with my mates whenever school was out and not come back home until dinner. My mum would get really really angry and she'd be like, 'Bradley!' with her hands on her hips and everything." he laughs. "I miss it, sometimes. I dunno why I just said that, but I do. I miss being a kid. Everything else was much simpler."

　　Colin nods. He knows how that is. It's a weird thing, feeling older beyond his years. He can't pinpoint exactly why it is that he feels so nostalgic -- maybe being in a theme park evokes that feeling, maybe it's because he's in France miles away from the comforts of home, or maybe it's because he's around Bradley. It could be all three. He isn't sure.

　　Colin wedges a chestnut inside his mouth, tearing the papery skin open with his teeth. He says, spitting out smatterings of hard shell into a palm, "When I was a kid and it was raining, my brothers and I made paperboats and let them float into the gutters. I'd have a little raincoat on, even. My mum made me wear it. It was yellow and had holes in the pockets. I had little boots on too." he laughs.

　　Bradley laughs too, pushing his sunglasses up his nose and up his hair. "What color were they?"

　　Colin turns pink a little but continues. "Red."

　　"How cliche." Bradley says, giggling, before turning away.

　　Colin says nothing. He stares at the chestnut in his hands, warm and seemingly apple-scented but that's probably only his imagination.

　　"You know what the perfect summer song is?" Colin says.

　　Bradley snorts. "Oh god here we go again." he says and rolls his eyes.

　　Colin smiles. "Just listen. You know what the perfect summer song is, Bradley?"

　　"What, Colin?" Bradley whips out his video camera again, holding it up against the sunlight. "Speak to the camera."

　　Colin speaks to the camera. "Chad and Jeremy. A Summer Song."

　　"Weird." Bradley says.

　　"Hm?"

　　Bradley turns his camera off. "Nothing." he says, shrugging. "I just never thought you'd actually listen to songs that aren't of the indie persuasion."

　　Colin kicks him and laughs.

　　5.

　　Colin finds the place one day when he wanders away from the group and does a little sight-seeing of his own. The store is wedged between a used-book shop, and a family-owned restaurant. It's called Wax Well Records* and no one ever seems to pay the store a visit. It probably has something to do with the owner -- a cranky man in his late 30's who smokes mentholated cigarettes and swears in French at anyone who asks for 90's pop records of artists like Madonna or Aerosmith.

　　The inside of the store is always thick with heat, but it's the nice kind of heat, the steady, mild, firefly kind that makes Colin feel a bit like he's in college again, sitting down on the floor and listening to old records no one will ever buy, backpack slung heavy on one shoulder.

　　One day when the shoot wraps up early, he decides to pay the store another visit. It's only a fifteen minute walk way from Pierrefonds and Colin grabs his backpack, hurrying out the door. Bradley stops him with a light tug on the back of his shirt and then jogs alongside him to catch up.

　　"Is there somewhere else you have to be?" Bradley says, smoothing the sweaty stripe of hair back from his forehead. He looks tired. "Colin Morgan, do you have a date?" he laughs. "Are you seeing someone?" At the word "someone", something in Bradley's face changes -- just a flicker of something though, like doubt, but in the blink of an eye it's gone and he looks relieved again.

　　"Where are you going?" Bradley says, soft.

　　"Follow me to find out." Colin says cryptically.

　　Bradley laughs and does just that.

　　The little silver bell at the door tinkles in greeting when they squeeze inside. Even the lighting is bad -- red paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling to create a zen-like oriental effect. Bradley says it just looks tacky and they should relocate to Tower Records. Colin laughs and hisses for him to shut up.

　　They make their way to the back of the store -- wading through teetering stacks of dusty vinyl piled on the floor and shelves and shelves of old records and memorabilia. There's a phonograph at the back too. Mint condition, made in the 70's give or take a few years. Bradley sneezes and bats the air in front of his face, sniffling and rubbing his nose against the sleeve of his shirt.

　　"How can you even breathe in here, Colin? It smells like piss."

　　"Bradley!" Colin says, laughing. "Shut up. The owner might hear you and kick us out."

　　Bradley says something more, but dutifully keeps his comments to himself when Colin throws him a pointed look. He picks up a Beatles record -- it's their Help album, 1965 -- and bugs Colin to put it on. When Dizzy Miss Lizzie comes on, scratchy and raw, Bradley taps the point of his shoe on the floor.

　　"The Beatles." Colin says after a moment, laughing, astonished. "I can't believe it. It's the song, isn't it? 'You make me dizzy.' I had a feeling it was them."

　　"Thank god, I thought you'd never get it." Bradley says.

　　"Hey!"

　　Bradley just laughs.

　　Colin says, "This makes me want to dance."

　　"Really? Can you even dance, Colin?"

　　There is a pause and Colin adjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. "No." he says, shrugging.

　　"Yeah, didn't think you could." Bradley says, giggling behind a fist. "I mean you're all indie, after all. You read medieval literature for Christ's sake." He says that like it's a bad thing. Any other day, Colin would've elbowed him for being so cheeky, but not today. Today they're in this vinyl record store, surrounded by shelves of musty old records, unreleased Beatles singles and limited edition Frank Zappa albums, and Bradley's shoulder is touching his in a subtle way as they stand toe to toe.

　　"You're staring at me." Colin says when the song has finished.

　　"Can't a bloke stare at another bloke?"

　　"No, Bradley." Colin says, wiping a sheen of sweat from his cheek with a damp palm. "That's a little gay. And a little creepy."

　　"Shut up." Bradley says, elbowing him again, shoulders shaking in quiet laughter. "You just had something on your face, that's all. I was concerned." And to prove a point, he leans forward and brushes the back of his knuckles to Colin's cheek, swiping at an imaginary streak of dirt.

　　Even though Colin doesn't believe him, he says nothing. Instead, he presses the pad of a finger against a film of cobweb and dust covering a row of Simon and Garfunkel cassette tapes, and touches the same finger to Bradley's cheek. Bradley blinks. Then he laughs and leans forward, pining Colin to the flimsy cardboard-thin shelf, arms braced on either side of his head. He's close enough that if Colin moves just a fraction their shins will be touching, the zippers of their trousers will scrape together. Let Bradley bend forward enough and they'll be kissing too. But the thought is a little cliche, though it fills Colin with a pang of nostalgia. He's always wanted to be kissed in a music store. And they're in a vinyl record store in France so it's even better.

　　Bradley says, grinning wide, "I thought hard about this." When he dips his head a little, Colin catches the spicy apple scent of his breath, warm and filling his own mouth, though Bradley doesn't kiss him. He puts his forehead down Colin's shoulder, still bracing his arms on the shelf behind Colin's head.

　　"Well, not really, didn't think really hard." Bradley corrects himself, "It came on in my iPod, and it reminded me of you. A bit. No googling, Colin. Guess." he says, and pulls back. Colin steps a little closer so their shins bump. Bradley bumps back, knee-first and laughs. He touches the little piece of thread sticking out of Colin's shirt at the hem and pulls with his thumb and forefinger. Colin lifts the post-it note to eye-level before pocketing it.

　　when I'm tired and thinking cold
　　I hide in my music, forget the day

　　"Boston." Colin says after a second, and pulls Bradley forward, fisting his hands into the sides of his shirt. "Bradley, you just associated me with More Than A Feeling!" he snorts. "I can't believe it!"