Title: How it Would Be
Author: “Solus Nemo”
Summary: His heart has been as cold as steel and made of ice since the day his love left, so many years ago. He takes two steps forward and two back, unable to move on. When someone new tries to open his eyes, will he learn that it's possible to love again? (Sequel to Swimming Through the Void)
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Note: The main character(s) in this story are out of high school and are now in college or doing some profession out in the real world. This fanfiction takes place about three years after Cyril’s death (making Marco a freshman in college, seeing as how he repeated half his junior year in high school).
Disclaimer: I never really found the point in these. I mean, don’t we all know that no writer here (or at any fanfiction site/writing blog/et cetra) doesn’t own the people and/or things that they’re writing about? Well, since I don’t want to get sued….

I do not own the television series “Degrassi: The Next Generation” or any television series. I do not own Life Of Agony (one of their songs being the title of this story and having a little blip at the beginning of chapter one) or anything afflicted with them - Hell, I haven’t even met the guys as disappointed I am about that. I do not own any song that finds itself being a chapter title in this story.

Chapter One: So Much Beauty in Dirt

And when it gets colder outside,
I’ll be back next year
with that feeling to make me cry.
Wanna go visit her grave
because it’s been a long, long time,
want to pick a peach rose
and rest it on its side,
say a prayer even though I don’t believe
and say good-bye.
Don’t get me wrong,
I have a mind to keep me strong,
but there’s this feeling of not knowing what went wrong
and how she’s dead and gone,
of how she’s dead and gone.
Don’t think anyone thinks
of you as much as I do.

He wiped a tear from his face, those words running a constant loop in his head.

With a deep sigh, he tried to focus on the blank Microsoft Word document in front of him, the whiteness of the empty text box glaring at him.

It wasn’t fair to him, having to go through days where all he could do was think about the one he lost, the one he never got to say good-bye to. Then again, life wasn’t fair. If he had to endure persistent misery than he’d endure persistent misery, just as long as he never had to feel again.

“Are you coming or not?” a voice droned into his head, as if the words were yelled in a vast cave. “Because if you are we’ve got to leave now, I’m not gonna to wait in the line for hours like last time. Marco? Do you hear me?”

Marco turned around in the swivel chair he was sitting in. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

His roommate frowned. “I did. Are you coming to the club or not? We’ve got to leave now if you are.”

“No, I’m coming,” Marco lied, but what else was he suppose to do? Say that he didn’t feel like going anywhere and get another lecture? He had enough to last him to the next ice age, let alone be able to recite the non-changing speech along with Steve.

“I’ll get your coat, then? It’s pretty cold out there.”

Marco smiled weakly at his friend, turning back to his laptop to shut it down. He stood up and quickly walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to rid the trail of tears cut down his cheeks. He lifted his head up to look in the mirror, a void expression staring back at him.

“You know you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna force you.” Steve showed up in the doorway, Marco’s black coat in his left hand.

Marco shook his head. “I told you that I’m coming. I don’t really feel like going to a club, but I need a break from staring at that computer screen,” he stated, taking his coat from Steve and heading out of the bathroom and down the main hall to the front door.

Steve followed, the heels of his shoes clunking against the hardwood floors. “You’re still working on your thesis paper?” he asked, shutting and locking the door as they entered the hall.

“I finished it, actually,” Marco stated. “I’m working on something else. I just haven’t gotten a good hold on it yet.”

“Oh, really?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “What’s it gonna be about? What’re you working on?”

Marco fell silent, hoping that Steve would take the hint that he didn’t want to talk about it.

Putting his coat on, Marco walked down the corridor and to the elevator. It wasn’t that bad living in apartments, as long as you’re relatively close to the campus. But this apartment was pretty bad, what with the run down look and the angry neighbors. It’s what Marco could afford, though, and as long as there was a roof over his head he was happy.

They went down to the first floor and exited the main doors to the building, letting a woman friend in because she forgot her keys. Living in Ontario, you didn’t need a car to get from one point to the other: you hail a cab.

Steve and Marco stood on the sidewalk, shivering slightly in the cool fall air, and watched as cars drove by on the street.

“Taxi!” Steve yelled, holding a hand up in the air. As usual when he hailed a cab, unlike Marco, a yellow car slipped out of traffic to stop in front of the two men. They climbed into the vehicle, thankful for the immense heat. “Johnny’s Place, please. And try to get there quickly.”

Marco leaned back into the leather seats, casting his gaze to the hazy window to his right. He started to think of a way to go back to the apartment and write, though he hadn’t been able to come up with a good sentence in months. Holding back a sigh, he watched the blurred shapes of buildings whiz past the taxi cab.

---

“I want you to meet someone!” Steve screamed, trying to be heard over the loud thumping of dance music. Laser beams pulsed to the beat of the techno sludge coming from the speakers. Steve’s face went from shades of yellow to red to green to blue and back again.

Marco squinted for a moment, running over what his friend yelled. “You’ve been saying that for weeks now!” he screamed back, getting tired of Steve’s constant attempts at setting Marco up.

“I know! But this time you two are in the same place and there’s no way for you to run away!”

Rolling his eyes, Marco nodded. “All right!”

But it wasn’t all right. Marco wanted nothing more than to strangle Steve right now, to just be left alone. It was bad enough that everyone Marco knew was trying to get him to ‘move on’, but to just ignore his pleas for them to stop was even worse.

Steve smiled, completely missing Marco’s annoyed tone. “Wait here!” he commanded, running off into the crowd of dancing and grinding men.

Marco sipped his drink, trying to become invisible to the cat calls and brushes to his body.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours Steve came back with a tall man in tow. Marco looked at the other adult with mild interest.

Tall. Curly blonde hair. Blue-eyes. Slight tan, but maybe that was just the lighting. There was a smile on his face as he looked Marco over, seemingly impressed by what he saw. If he kept doing that the dolt would find his face at the back of his head.

“Marco, this is Dylan! Dylan, this is Marco!” Steve yelled, brushing strands of his red hair from his face.