Happiness and Other Disasters

By Gabriel Bentham

Gabriel Bentham, a 23-year-old gay young adult, is preparing to leave behind his life so far and run away from home. Fleeing from the shadows of the past, he intends to embark on an adventure in the world with his best friend. However, their plans are disrupted by an Icelandic volcanic eruption. They have no other choice but to confront their unresolved issues. But this is just the beginning: the coveted happiness, which Gabriel refers to as the 'Grail," won't come easily. The struggle for love, a secure home, and ambitious goals is only just the beginning. Little does he know, he'll soon have to rescue his love's fiancée, attend a funeral after the wedding ceremony, and face an impending war where he must stand against his own father. The young man finally faces his past, analyzes the present, and does everything he can to achieve the dreams he could only wish for until now. He learns to trust and be disappointed, but most importantly, he realizes that fate writes people into our lives in the most unexpected situations and can just as suddenly erase them. Moreover, there comes a time when we must move on and leave behind those we love. In the sea of expectations, coming both from outside and within, the ultimate question is whether we can truly live freely while pursuing our dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gabriel Bentham
• Release date: Oct 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9786150184982

Book preview

Prologue

"I felt completely helpless, just wandering up and down the corridors. Well, I can't blame myself; I rarely set foot in a mayor's office. I just had to find the prospective husband now. That strong, determined guy I met suddenly disappeared as if he never existed. Maybe I wouldn't do any different; after all, this day changes everything in a person's life forever.

I've been looking for you everywhere! It's time, I told Oliver when I finally found him in one of the restrooms.

I'm sorry, but I can't do it. My legs are trembling, and I forgot my vows too. I'm bringing shame to Nils and all of you, the groom replied in a choked voice.

It couldn't be that a little stage fright was keeping him from marrying the love of his life. After all they had been through and still stuck together until now.

Listen to me, okay? I looked deep into his eyes, but his gaze remained elsewhere. Remember when you told me about your childhood? About that countryside boy who was always stigmatized because he was different from the others? When you talked about him, I saw that fire in your eyes, the fighter who never gives up and who has now come this far to marry the man he loves. Think about all the things you've achieved in recent years, things you never dared to dream of before.

His gaze finally returned, he took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

I never want to be like I used to be, he said firmly. You may be right, Nils deserves for me not to run away. He deserves everything, and I want to make him happy. Could you play our first song? It will help me remember the vows.

Of course, but I have no idea which one it is, I replied, and why should I have known? A couple's song is quite an intimate thing. I've given away many songs to people who didn't deserve them, and I can never listen to those songs the same way again.

Wait, give me your phone, he said, taking it from my hand with a quick motion. Can you unlock it?

I handed it back to him, and he started searching eagerly, his fingers moving rapidly. Then suddenly, the song started playing, and my blood froze. But this couldn't be. It was La Lune by Madeon. Fate was playing with me, or some higher power, I don't know, but this song was our song too. I hadn't been able to listen to it since then. Tears welled up every time it played, so I always skipped it. It's funny how a feeling can influence everything. A song that once meant so much beauty and happiness now only brought disappointment and sadness. It didn't deserve this, well, neither did I.

Is everything okay, Gabe? Oliver asked, as the song had ended, but I still stood there like a statue, as if I were trapped in the past, sucked into a time machine and taken back to that moment when they first listened to it together.

Sure, what could be wrong? I flashed a half-smile. Shall we go then?

He nodded, and I embraced him, as it was time to enter the marriage hall. Best friend, witness, family. All of this was me, and this feeling was simultaneously noble and honoring. However, I also felt sorry because his real family didn't want to be there with him on this happy day. I glanced at my watch, the screen lit up, displaying a fireworks effect because it was a big day today, the 10th of September 2020, the big day of Oliver and Nils. A day when love overcame prejudice and proved that there is always a second chance. Little did I know back then that this day would not only be famous for that but also that it would change everything in my life. As we made our way towards the grand hall and I saw Nils' proud gaze, admiring Oliver, an unexpected guest arrived at the reception venue. And indeed, I couldn't have imagined back then that on this day, the Grail would finally come so close to me as never before...

Chapter 1

Ash

Let's start from the beginning. 16th of April 2010. I had been nagged for a long time to write the story of my life. Nowadays, it's fashionable to pour out your thoughts and everyone is doing it. But who said I'm everyone? Once someone told me, ‘Sooner or later, everyone realizes they're not better than the rest.’ Damn, weren't they right? Maybe, but I still don't believe that makes me an ordinary person. It's just a common point. In many other aspects, I don't follow the current trends. Of course, it doesn't mean I'm better than others. I especially felt this when fate played with me. I even recorded that particular day on a blog, exactly like this:

‘I can't take my eyes off the screens. I've been staring at them for so long that it feels like this image has been burned into my brain. Like when He hugged me. Laptop on my lap, suitcases beside me, and the two annoyingly chattering Korean ladies also holding their place in front of me. I don't understand what they're gossiping about. I won't draw false conclusions just because they keep stretching the syllables at the end of each word, which becomes nerve-wracking after a while.

I can't take my eyes off the screens. I'm waiting for that damn nine-letter word to disappear. But it still keeps spinning: Cancelled. Yet this morning started so nicely, I was as excited as maybe never before. No, that's not true. I felt the same way that night when we kissed.

Today, I was supposed to go to London. This trip would have marked a new beginning. Gaby and I both felt it. Every fiber of my being knew and felt that this was the call of destiny, and we had to go. But dear fate, as usual, mocked our determination. All flights were cancelled due to an Icelandic volcanic eruption. The wind is blowing the ash cloud toward Europe, making flying life-threatening.

So here I am, sitting in the waiting area. Meanwhile, the Korean ladies vanished, replaced by a murmuring couple deeply in love. I'm listening to music, waiting for Gaby to come back. She went to figure out the situation.

The loving couple cast a strange look at me in the midst of their passionate kisses. I feel like their gaze is a bit condescending and they have every reason to be. Maybe I shouldn't have worn my Love sucks t-shirt today. And just as they embrace each other again, Leona Lewis' ‘I See You’ starts playing in my headphones. It's as if I'm watching a movie where I'm the extra. The necessary background character to make the scene realistic. Being an extra isn't bad, but right now, I could kill for a leading role. Today, I was supposed to travel to London. I wanted to see the world, but my real reason was entirely different. I wanted to find answers. Answers to questions like What is my true purpose in life? or Is it time to move on?

The scene continues to unfold. Richard and Annie now whisper half-embraced, exchanging what I hope are sincere words of love. I named them like that. I'm an extra and a screenwriter at the same time. Though I don't have much influence on this story. Just like it seems I don't have much control over my own story, at least for now.

Many times I have imagined what would happen in London. There I am standing in the Hyde Park. In front of me is the statue of Peter Pan. The statue of a boy who never wanted to grow up. I agree with him, but I had no say in it either. I stand in the drizzling rain with my signature headphones. The raindrops fall gently, and I can smell the fresh morning shower. In the background, Cindy Lauper's ‘Time After Time’ is playing, and suddenly something changes. The scent of the rain is replaced by something else. Perhaps it's a perfume. The scent of a perfume enters through my nose into my lungs, one that I would recognize among a thousand. Yet it takes a few seconds for me to recognize it. However, my consciousness doesn't connect. I'm completely stunned. Not by the scent, but by the realization that I'm hallucinating. That's why I don't attach any significance to the fact that this might be reality. But it is, pure and simple reality.

There I stand, facing the statue of Peter Pan. A raindrop runs down my face, and as it slowly reaches the ground, someone touches my shoulder. I'm not scared. I just stare ahead. The music plays, the rain falls, but I'm in a different world. This scent, this touch takes me back to the past. Suddenly, we are back in the kitchen. He pulls me closer, looks deeply into my eyes, and hugs me. Then I come to my senses. The hand is on my shoulder. I turn around. I'm sure it's just a dream. But no, He is truly there. We look into each other's eyes. He looks at me the same way He did that morning. Love, care, and a shared future are reflected in his eyes. Neither of us speaks, yet we instantly understand each other. The rain stops, and the sun slowly emerges from the clutches of the clouds. Just like that, He also frees me from the weight of doubts and negative thoughts with his touch. Time stands still. I don't know how long we've been looking at each other. My hand is in his, and He starts lifting it, all the way to the level of his chest, I feel his heartbeat. Like a magnet, I touch him while his hand seeks my heart. He finds it. He feels it. Just like that morning when He hugged me. My thoughts merge with the rhythm of his heart. I don't even notice that He is holding my hand again. Suddenly, He hugs me, and I know I never want to let him go. I didn't want to let go that morning either. We stood on the kitchen floor. We are still standing there. Those few seconds remain forever captive in that space. In that space called memory. Every time I walk past it, I feel that we are there. The spirits of the past have become eternal prisoners in that place. But this captivity is sweet and desirable. This is how we stand now in front of the statue of Peter Pan. The song ends, just like the scene. Cut.

I don't have time to daydream; now it's my role as an extra. My task now is to go with the flow. This flow often catches me, especially when I do something with love and dedication. But that's not the case now. I feel like I need to realize that I'm not important. Yet I always thought I was special. I must have been mistaken. Surely that volcano didn't erupt because of me, and fate doesn't want to convey any message. Fate plays its main role, and we are all just extras. While it is the main character, we gradually fade away from the story, which continues just as it did before, without us. However, our spirits remain here, just as our embracing shadows remain forever, constantly echoing only this: 'We were here.'

My phone rings. It's Dad. I don't answer. The person he knows no longer exists. But perhaps the person I know doesn't exist either. On that morning, both ceased to exist. And a third person was born, one who can finally fight for love. My name is Gabriel Bentham. I am 23 years old, and finding happiness became my destiny. If you're curious about it, this is my story.’

I never continued the blog, but my story was far from over.

Chapter 2

Ghosts

I have been waiting for Gaby for three whole hours now. I couldn't leave the waiting area because we had so many bags that I wouldn't have been able to carry them all by myself. I know that cell phones have been invented a long time ago. But for that to happen, Gaby would have to turn hers on. She's a scatterbrained girl. But despite that, I love her.

All sorts of people have passed through the waiting area already. There are two empty seats on both sides of me. Did no one want to sit next to me? Perhaps they knew that those seats were occupied by the ones I loved dearly. It may seem like I'm crazy, but just a little. When things go wrong, I like to believe, to imagine that those who once meant a lot to me but have been written out of this script by fate, are sitting next to me. So, on the right, my grandmother Marie and my step-grandfather Alexander were sitting. And on the left, my aunt was reading some medical book. Oh, and I forgot to mention the fourth character. He hasn't died yet, although it was better for me to think that way. That's how I could move on. I said I'm just a little crazy.

In my childhood, I always felt a special bond with my grandmother. We didn't have much time together. I was six years old when she died of a brain tumor. She didn't deserve that. She deserved a beautiful, long life, and I don't say this because I'm selfish and want to be with her. Anywhere in this world would be fine, as long as she lives. I've always had a vivid imagination. I often make up stories, even whole series. One thing they have in common is that the protagonist lost his grandmother. But somehow, by some miracle, he gets her back. Usually, the story goes that she gets involved in some shady business, so she fakes their own death, gets a new face, and returns to us. Well, to the main character, of course. It's a bold idea, but who knows. So, if you're reading this, we're waiting for you. And it doesn't matter how long we have to wait, we'll be here. I'll be here.

She didn't have a particularly happy life. My grandfather was an alcoholic, although I never knew him. A few years ago, I found his photo in a sports newspaper. There's no other picture of him because grandma simply cut him out of every photo. But did he even exist? Surely, since there's a picture of him in the newspaper. A stranger's picture, belonging to a man whom grandma wanted to forget so badly that she erased him from her memories. I resemble him in many ways, eerily so. She gave too much to someone who never truly deserved it. My grandfather received a value he should have never heard of. Life is a strange game, but he got her anyway, and from it, a new value was born. My father, but more on him later. It's difficult to talk about him now. After grandma literally ran away from my grandfather, a new man came into the picture. His name was Bernard, or as we commonly refer to him, Bernard the whore, as we call him at home nowadays. I can already tell you that he won't be the only character in the story with such a nickname. Years passed, and grandma and Bernard got married. At least that's what the photos suggest. Grandma couldn't destroy Bernard's pictures; this relationship destroyed her. I don't have many memories of Bernard. All I remember is that as a child, I loved him and looked up to him. He was like my grandfather. For a long time, I didn't know or rather didn’t understand that we weren't blood-related. Grandma and Bernard took us on vacations with Pilar, who, by the way, is my sister, but only half. It's complicated.

Later on, I began to realize why I loved them so much. Being around them, even as a child, made me feel alive. We had so many shared memories. Maybe more from that period than with my own parents, although I did spend a lot of time with them too. Then one day, grandma came up to our old apartment crying. I didn't understand what was going on back then. Bernard had cheated on her with a young secretary, and now he wanted a divorce. The next memory I have is playing with toy cars in grandma's hospital room. Then at home, my parents tell me he's already in heaven. Pilar comes home; she must have been around fourteen years old at the time, and I run to her and say, Marie Mama died. We cry together.

They didn't take me to the funeral. My other grandma took care of me at home. Something permanently ceased to exist within me that day. Dad recently said it was because of her, or more precisely, because of her death, that I turned out this way. Not gay, but... well, never mind, I’ll talk about that later.

After my grandma's death, we used to visit her apartment regularly, mainly to collect her mail. It always felt like she was still there, just as when she was alive. I would play in the same spots where we used to play together. I could sense her presence. I still feel it now. Humans are peculiar beings. After a while, they forget the voices of their deceased loved ones. The video camera is perhaps the only tool I truly respect. I will never forget her voice. In my memories, I can always recall when she used to say, Gabe, my dear, come here, the pea soup is ready! But we can remember her in other ways too. We still make her dumpling recipe for the meat soup to this day, and we talk to her. Well, it's only me who does that actually. Sometimes, I even feel like she's holding my hand. Perhaps she stayed with me to help me. She didn't cross over into the light so that I would never truly feel her absence. But I do feel it. As much as I know she's here, she can't respond, only support. One thing is certain: she would have been the first person I would tell my little secret to. She stayed with me, and in return, I want to be a worthy inheritor. I want to achieve the happiness that fate denied her.

So there she sat, not far from me. She watches over me and protects me. I thought that once I fulfill her wish and find happiness, she might be able to rest in peace. Sometimes, when Dad and I argue, he remarks if she ever crosses my mind. If only he knew how close she is to me. She's right here, inside me. A piece of my heart belongs only to her.

I recently tried to find Bernard. I found him online. He's still alive, nearly 20years after my grandma passed away. A good person dies, a bad person lives their life. It's not fair. I always wonder if it's worth being good. Then I realize that no matter how bad I want to be, fate somehow eliminates my rebellion. But then, is this also predetermined? Is there no true free will? This is too complex to delve into right now.

Grandma is not the only person who is always with me. My step-grandfather, Alexander passed away eleven years ago. It's not a big secret that he wasn't known for his happy life either. He was my step-grandpa because he was actually Pilar's grandfather. Pilar is the daughter from my mother's previous marriage and thus my half-sister. Unusually, after my mother and her ex-husband divorced, Alexander and we kept in touch. There was a strong bond between us. I didn't realize or simply didn't care that we weren't biologically related.

Alexander, or as I called him, Alex Papa, always had a mysterious past. According to my mother, he once told her that it's quite likely his father was a prince. His parents served a prince, and when he was born, he was raised alongside the prince's children. You could see the nobility in him. There was something aristocratic in every move and statement he made. But who knows what the truth is.

Alex Papa felt comfortable with us. At home, he was only awaited by his witch wife and his two worthless sons. Of course, the witch is still alive. No wonder he didn't find happiness there. After his death, the fighting for the inheritance started immediately. Against his will, they cremated him instead of having a burial. I was there when his ashes were scattered, and I saw a butterfly flying out of the ashes. I knew right away that it was him. He was reborn in a different form of life. But then, how is it possible that I spoke to him that same evening? Life after death is still a mystery to me. The important thing is that he is sitting here with me in this damn waiting room. Just like Abigail, my aunt. She's not always with me. Her daughter keeps her tied here. Although Sandra doesn't deserve it.

Abigail is the cousin of Marie, the daughter of Marie's brother. So she's not really my aunt, at least not in the first degree, but I considered her as such. Poor Abigail suffered a lot in her life. She constantly battled with illnesses and in the end, cancer defeated her. Fate could be a bit more creative. Well, that was morbid. Abigail was a nurse. She always performed her job with dedication and love, even though the doctors treated her badly. She married a man, they had a daughter and soon he left them for another woman. It's worth noting that he did the same thing to the other woman. Another characterless person living his pitiful little life since then. Abigail' daughter, Sandra, used to be a professional ice-skater. Or at least she was. Due to her terrible nature and, let's say it, rude behavior, she can't stay in one place for long. After Abigail' death, she moved to us for a short while. Then she got angry with us for some reason, just like she does with everyone else. She should look into the mirror sometimes and carry on her mother's legacy with dignity. Since then, she has teamed up with her father, who never cared about her. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Only the good person didn't survive. Typical.

Abigail continues to try to steer Sandra in the right direction, but with little success. So she mostly spends her time with me. Right now, she's sitting next to Da...I mean D. I prefer abbreviations. D. is still alive, and fortunately, it seems like he's happy, which is difficult, but I genuinely rejoice in it.

The four of them make up my company during lonely hours. Of course, they're not the only ones. But the others are mere shadows, just like the embracing couple by the kitchen counter. One of them is me.

Marie, Alex, and Abigail give me a real family when I'm alone. Feeling their presence gives everything a different meaning. But in any case, it gives meaning to living and makes it worth it. Because they want me to be happy. Which is not easy. As you have seen, the world belongs to the bad people. The good ones make such great sacrifices that they eventually die from it. I know the world is not as black and white as that. I can't judge people because I have no right to. But as long as I know that they have a slight connection to the deaths of my loved ones, I won't consider this world fair. I won't love you, dear Fate!

I think it's time to talk a little about this mysterious D., who is none other than...Oh well, Gaby is back! What took you so long? I asked.

Gaby pushed one of the packages aside. Poor Abigail got hit by it.

I don't have good news, Gabe, her face looked worn out.

But what's the situation? I asked again.

They don't know how long the airspace will be closed. At least four more days. No chance of going to London. I'm sorry, she said.

Okay, I could barely speak. That damn fate fooled us again.

So what do we do now? We can't go home, I saw desperation on Gaby's face.

At least now I know what I have to do, I said. And I was truly aware of it.

Can we buy a suit here? I asked.

Why on earth do you need a suit, Gabe? Gaby's voice revealed that she actually had an idea of what I was talking about.

Fate wants me to go there I replied.

Go where exactly? she asked with furrowed eyebrows.

I answered without hesitation:

To D’s wedding.

Chapter 3

Gaby

Gaby understood what I wanted. She grabbed her luggages, I grabbed mine, and we set off to catch a taxi. She understood what I wanted, but it was more of a consent. Consent to total madness. But that’s how Gaby is. She's the best friend I could ever imagine.

If we were to meet her on a dating app, this is what we would see: a 22 year-old, smiling, average height girl with darker hair and an average build, whose bio radically contradicts the personality we would imagine based on the photo.

She was born in the same year as I was, so I'm only two months older than her. However, it took fifteen years for Gabrielle Pond and my life to intersect. But since then, I couldn't imagine our daily lives without exchanging a few words with each other.

The eerie similarity of our names gives everyone the feeling that we are the perfect couple. And that's true, just not in the way they think. It took a difficult and long journey for our relationship to reach this level. Nowadays, we have no secrets from each other. Or who knows?

Gaby was born as the middle children of the Pond family. I don't really know her older sister and younger brother. All I know is that the younger brother recently got married to some harpy, at least according to Gaby. Well, I checked her picture on Facebook, and she might be right about the girl.

Being a religious family, it was essential for them to send Gaby to a religious school. She has a great relationship with her mother, Delia. One might say that if I am her best friend, then Delia is her bestie. From the rest of her family she always got lectures about her personal life. I was glad she was getting out of that environment. I only felt sorry for her mother. However, she was smart enough to prioritize her daughter's happiness.

Gaby and I first met in 2002. She had already been attending the class for two years when I arrived as a newcomer. Perhaps meeting her was the only good thing that came out of that terrible school. We first talked during a spelling competition. She was friendly and cheerful, while I was introverted and odd. My father had a lot to do with us getting acquainted. That's just how my father is—like fate, he throws your destiny at you. It was him who started chatting with Gaby, and I assume he played a role in this lovely girl taking me under her wings. Gaby was the only person with whom I always felt completely at ease, and it remains the same to this day. This special bond grew closer with each passing year. We invited her on vacations and spent a lot of time together outside of school. And all this time, I didn't know what I was doing. I never considered that she might feel differently towards me. I invented fake girlfriends and girls whom I liked. There was always some false story for each encounter. But something changed in the summer of 2009. What happened then made it clear to me that I shouldn't lie anymore. At least not to her. I was a bit selfish, I know. I had to share with someone what I felt. Since the incident with the text message, I couldn't talk to anyone about it. Yet I had so much sorrow and joy. So I practically narrated my life to strangers on chatting sites online under a fake name. I only sought understanding, nothing else. It didn't matter who read it, if anyone cared at all.

So, in October of last year, on a Thursday evening, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life. And I told everything to Gaby. She was looking pensive in the taxi, just like she did that evening when the last barrier vanished between us. I invited her for dinner, but I had planned everything well in advance. However, I didn't expect that it wasn't just me who had something to say. On the way to the mall, "True Colors" was playing on the radio. Well, now we'll truly see each other's true faces and colors, I thought. And one way or another, it won't separate us. In fact, I hoped it would strengthen our relationship.

We sat down to eat. The situation was incredibly awkward. She was braver. So she began telling her story. She started by saying she had made a big mistake. They were currently separated with his boyfriend, but the situation could change any minute. Dominic was a guy who couldn't let go of Gaby and always managed to make her take him back. He had no idea that he was only destroying her, and Gaby clung to him with a kind of teenage love. Gaby had said multiple times that she could only move on if there was someone else in her life. And there was someone now.

Gaby had a secret. She was having an affair with a teaching assistant at the university, who by the way was married, but Gaby was not aware of it at the beginning. The news initially shocked me. I was worried about Gaby. Worried about her disappointment, people's opinions, and even Donald himself. However, I knew I had to offer her what I expected in return, understanding and support. That's what I provided her, and since then, I've been determined to surround her with people who deserve her. And I receive the same in return from her. All I need beside her is a partner like the One. A companion, a friend. The three of us, and nothing else matters. Well, four, because Gaby will also find her One.

But at that time, it was just the two of us, heading to a wedding. A wedding where the love of my life was about to marry the woman he loved. I felt a tremor in my stomach, just like six months ago on that evening with Gaby. After she revealed her secret, she also admitted that almost everyone already knew. I was the only one she didn't dare to tell because she truly values my opinion and didn’t want to disappoint me. I reassured her. She didn't disappoint me. I was genuinely surprised that she casually told a few not-so-close friends, but it was her decision. That's just how she is, she loves to talk, although sometimes she gives too much info to people who shouldn't know. I'm not the kind of person who cares about others' opinions, especially when they have absolutely nothing to do with me. But Gaby's opinion interests me a 100 percent. So the time came for me to be honest.

On that October evening, I went home knowing she already knew. I couldn't tell her in a nice, coherent way, even though I only had a non-alcoholic cocktail. However, Gaby had two Margaritas. That's how she relieves tension, while I can't even get properly drunk. By the way, have I told you the tequila story? If not, it's probably for the best. I hope Gaby won't gossip about it either. It would seriously damage my reputation. But Gaby doesn't care about that, just as she easily accepted it when I practically handed her the words:

So, that text message... It pretty clearly exposed everything I stammered.

Well, then two possibilities arise she said calmly. Either it was from a drug dealer or it was a love message from a guy.

Second option I interjected.

So, I didn't actually say the word. I just described the situation. And then the words came more easily, and I spoke for an hour. I jumped between timelines, people, and locations. I'm amazed that she could follow. Although I had a script, I ended up telling things completely differently. More spontaneously, and it was just right. When I finished, she asked a few details and reassured me. She was glad I told her. And especially that she could be the first to know my secret, which I had been carrying with me for a good ten years by then. It was worth the wait, but I could have told her earlier. It would have been more honest. Because, as she said, she had always hoped that there would be something more between us. And she could truly believe it. Every sign pointed to that, especially the many times we spent together. Especially the vacations. Speaking of vacations, after a while, she stopped coming with us, because this uncertainty prompted her to stay away from me. That's how she managed to get me out of his head. But now she understood everything. The puzzle was complete. Yet, I still didn't feel at ease. What if I constantly pushed her into Dominic's arms? What if she was always waiting for me to be