So. You've Become That Guy, Eh?

It is late and raining lightly. He steps outside after grabbing his matches and a cigarette.

He heads onto the lawn and looks toward the water. It's quiet aside from the ocean washing up against the beach. He walks down onto the beach and sees his friend sitting up on the wharf holding a guitar. He treads barefoot along the rocks, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

"So, you've become that guy," he says pointing to the guitar.

His friend laughs and strikes a chord. "Yeah, I guess."

He grabs a match and lights a cigarette.

"Why are you up?" his friend asks.

"I don't really sleep anymore," he says.

"Yeah." His friend starts playing lightly again. "Me neither."

"Where'd you find that?"

"In the living room. It's really nice."

"I think it's my uncle's. He always plays it when he's here."

"He any good?"

"He's alright." Blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, he looks up at the clouded sky.

"Can I bum a cigarette?"

"I left my pack in my room." Pause. "I can run and grab 'em."

"No, it's cool."

The moon pushes through the clouds in a blue, hazy half circle and the rain slowly ceases. The two sit in silence for a long while, he with his cigarette smoldering between two fingers and his friend with his uncle's guitar sitting quietly on one knee.

Suddenly, his friend looks down at his feet with a sharp inhale. "I don't think I love her anymore, man."

"What?" Pause. "What do you mean?"

"There's no double meaning, or anything. I don't think I love her anymore."

"What do you mean 'think'?"

"I don't know."

Silence again. He takes one last puff and smashes his cigarette between two rocks. His friend lets out an aggravated sigh.

"What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say to her?"

"Well, probably nothing until you know for sure."

"But isn't the fact I'm even doubting a bad enough sign?"

"Yes."

"Then I should break it off."

"Yeah. But not until you figure yourself out for sure first, so you don't sound like a complete dumb ass on top of breaking her heart out of the blue."

"It's not out of the blue. I've been thinking about it for a while now."

"With her?" His eyes are angry.

"No. In my head..." His friend grows visibly upset and coughs. "You're not allowed to make a move on her."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Don't."

"No, I mean like... really? You're going to sit there and tell me-- Like I've just been fucking waiting around to pounce?"

"I wasn't saying--"

"I'm going to bed. Put that guitar back where you found it when you come in. It's older than you are." He stands up. "Do you plan on staying here after you talk to her?"

Pause.

"I don't know. No. I guess I was going to see how it goes? I can just go stay with my dad or something."

"That's very sensitive of you."

"Fuck off."

"You're an asshole." He heads back inside. His friend sits alone for the next ten minutes staring down at nothing.

The next morning, over a cup of coffee and a bowl of Apple Jacks, they pretend the other isn't even there.