Sunshine Yellow

Small droplets of rain splatter against the dull pavement, disrupting the suffocating autumn air. Fortunately or unfortunately for me, my shirt has been damp since the moment I sat in that suffocating courtroom. Mundane days as paralegal will seriously be the end of me, especially since I only applied to appease my parents. Now, I’m stuck with the consequences of my impulsive decisions- instead of shining in the successful social life I’ve built, my weary legs numbly shuffle forward, accomplishing nothing but wearing down the soles of my shoes. I truly can’t seem to produce anything of value. 

While professors and colleagues berate me for “unprofessional” behavior, my friends sulk at how inactive I’ve become. Social media has become my only escape, but then again, also my greatest pain. The algorithm loves to flaunt the fulfilling lives of everyone but me. Still, I find myself pulling up Instagram anyways. My screen flashes as I scroll through myriads stories featuring neon lights, cute guys, and hype music at clubs. A searing yet familiar pain strains on my heart as I numbly press like and scroll. 

In truth, I don’t miss the limelight. No, my fall from glory only hurts because no one bothered to check back on me. The same people with whom I spent long nights and sang karaoke chose to just move forward without me. People I trusted to read through the facade of “I’m okay” either didn’t care or couldn’t bother.

A fresh, crisp breeze of air breaks my lamenting thoughts. It whirls through my clothes, chilling my sweating neck and disturbing my wet bangs. My lungs greedily inhale the first refreshing breath I’ve taken today as I finally reach the bridge in front of my apartment complex.

The rain has begun pounding down now- the rushing currents beneath me flow with renewed energy. A particularly strong current breaks against the slender railing bordering both sides of the path and splashes onto the thin sidewalk. The now drenched sidewalk shines with a yellow glow from the occasional lamp post. 

A slight motion suddenly catches my eye- a man subtly stands in the shadows. His upper body is swallowed by a dark jacket, and his arms hang limply by his sides as he stares out at the rushing water. Curiously, he doesn’t shield his head with a hood; instead, he allows the rain to matt his hair and run down his face. I realize I myself have an umbrella I haven’t been using and silently laugh at my foolishness.

I fumble in my bag before producing a bright yellow umbrella and clumsily opening it. Dodging the wet pavement, I rush over to the man and hold the umbrella over his head. Now close enough to distinguish his features, I realize that tears pour down his face.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Do you need help?” Worry distorts my voice as I tilt the umbrella to shield him.

His eyes slid to mine, and his eyes shine with unshed tears as he chokes out, “N-no.” He releases a shaky gasp as if he’s been holding his breath and buries his head in his hands. I watch him slowly lower himself onto the pavement, and my heart aches for him as I hear him struggling to inhale through tears. 

“H-hey,” my own voice shakes as I try to comfort him, “look at me.” 

He slowly raises his head, and I grab his hands in a tight hold, trying to anchor him.

“What can you see?” 

“I- I can see yo-your face”

“What are you hearing?”

“Th-the rain. I can hear the r-rain.”

“Good. That’s good. Where are you?”

“I’m-m with you. I’m o-on a bridge.” His gasps start to subside. I gently sit down beside him and start rubbing his back soothingly. Minutes pass and I stay by him until hiccups replace his tears. “Th-anks,” he murmurs. His voice is cracked and unsteady from overuse.

“An-anytime. Do you want to talk about it? I’m here if you need anything,” I ramble.

“My parents a-are currently suing my sis-ter’s school because she’s getting bull-ied badly and she’s in hospital” he chokes up and pauses to regain his grounding. “W-we can’t move schools, and this is o-our only way to get the school t-to take action. But we can’t-t afford a good lawyer, and I-I know we’re going to lose. I j-just feel so hopeless, and I c-can’t do anyth-ing to help.” His voice starts breaking again, and my heart shatters.

“I am so so sorry you’re going through that.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you going to be okay? Do you feel any better?”

“Y-yeah, I should probably start heading back.”

“Wait, before you go, let me give you my number. You can talk to me about anything. Oh, and you should probably use my umbrella,” I supply.

“The umbrella that has a gaping hole on one side?” he jokes. I look up and realize that my umbrella does indeed have a hole and that rain has been pouring onto him this entire time. 

My face flushes as I stammer, “Tha- that’s new.” He grins and hands me his phone where I quickly type myself a message before returning it. He thanks me and begin walking away.

A couple feet away however, he pauses and says, “Hey, uhm I only come here for vacation, but we should meet again next year. Give each other a couple life updates, you know?”

“Uh, sure. Of course! Same time?” He affirms with a nod, and I stare at his back as he walks away.

A year later…

It’s June 13 again, and my heart beats wildly against my ribcage. I’m not entirely sure why it beats so rapidly. Afterall, we do talk pretty regularly. To be honest, I do desperately hope for his approval- although I did the comforting that night, I think he saved me more. After hearing his story, my entire mindset on law changed. I realized how much I’d taken for granted and that although a conversation with a client is only one of many for me, it is everything to them.

I’m standing by the entrance to the bridge, reminding myself to breathe. A part of me knows I should start walking forward, but my feet remain in place. My eyes scour the top of the bridge for any sign of life, and I admit that I’m worried he isn’t going to come. Soon enough, however, a drawn hood appears from the other side. 

“Hey, over here!” He calls, pulling down his hood to reveal dark hair. I hurry up the path and reach his side.

“So, how’s life treating you?” I ask, partially gasping. 

“Pretty well. I’m finishing up my degree in accounting, and I’ve landed a pretty useful internship. How are you faring?”

“Actually a lot better than before. I’m currently a paralegal, but I only have another year before I can officially become an attorney.”

Time flies as our conversation floats and twirls through the cool wind. Pale moonlight shines down on our silhouettes through shallow shafts in the dense clouds above. 

A small drop of rain lands on my hand, and I startle. Soon, countless raindrops are landing all around us. I quickly pull out the same preposterously bright umbrella and open it to cover us. It does little to actually shield either of us from the rain as I haven’t fixed the hole. 

He looks up at the obnoxious rip in my umbrella and fails to hide his chuckle. I sheepishly laugh with him. 

“It’s okay; I’ll just use my hood. Thanks, though,” he remarks.

“Yeah, it’s pretty late actually. We should start heading back. You live in that complex, right?”

“I do. Wanna walk back together?”

“Sure.” He drops me off at my apartment and we say goodbye with the promise to meet up again. 

A year later…

I race up the bridge; it’s pouring rain, but I barely watch my step. His figure grows closer with every passing step. 

I reach the top of the path where he stands and cheer, “I passed the state bar exam! I can become a lawyer!”

“Congratulations! That’s amazing!” He cheers, matching my excitement and jumping around with me. Neither of us have jackets and the rain is drenching us, but we dance around anyways. 

“Believe it or not, you’re actually the first person I’ve told.”

“Really?”

“Haha, yea. Anyways, how’s it going with you?”

“I got a new dog! Wait let me show you.” He opens his phone and pulls up a picture of the cutest ball of fur I’ve ever seen. The raindrops quickly cover his screen, blurring the image, and I cover us with my yellow umbrella. 

He takes one look at the massive hole and bursts out laughing. We both howl with laughter until our stomachs hurt. When we begin walking back toward the apartments, my foot slips forward on the wet pavement. My stomach drops as my body falls backwards. Strong hands push me back to my feet, however. 

“Oof, careful now,” he cautions. 

“Thanks for catching me,” I say. My heart cartwheels in my chest as we continue walking back together, and I tell myself it’s because I nearly fell, but deep down, I know it’s not that.