Don't Look, Don't Tell

Matthew, Mark, and John had been thick as thieves, inseparable from the very first day of orientation in their first year of university. Mark and John had been paired as roommates initially, with Matt's dorm room a few doors down. By their second year, they'd found a small 3-bedroom off-campus and excitedly moved in together. It wasn't much to look at, with beat-up furnishings and decor that only three young men would own, but it became their little shared haven.

Matt, a Music major, had a penchant for making beats out of nothing. From when he'd first picked up a guitar at ten years old, he knew that was all he wanted to do. Ultimately, his goal was to go into music production. It helped that he had perfect pitch - and a mum who worked tirelessly to raise him on her own and nurture his undeniable talent. His roommates now found themselves as his captive audience when he created a new composition or remixed the latest hit, often awed by how quickly his mind worked.

Mark was the romantic of the group. Studying Literature might have had something to do with his constant need to wax lyrical. Or perhaps it was him being the black sheep in a family of scientists who saw everything as black and white. Either way, his gray had a way of balancing things out, always armed with a rousing word of inspiration and unbridled optimism. His magnetism made him real popular with the ladies, though sometimes, his passion had a tendency to spill quickly over into anger.

John was the self-proclaimed nerd and pacifist of the bunch. He was pursuing Engineering and had been on track to graduate with honours from when he stepped foot onto the campus grounds. He was more the strong, silent type. Maybe even a bit reclusive, but the boys chalked it down to him being an introvert. Even though Matt and Mark barely let him get a word in, he didn't mind as he didn't have much to say anyway. When he did speak, his understated intelligence and wisdom demanded that you listen.

With their polar opposite majors, and heavily conflicting schedules, the boys often found that they had very little time to spare to spend together. So in the second semester of their second year, they came up with a weekly "Boys Night". Everyone had their duty - food, drinks, entertainment. John ensured the schedule was followed with the drilled precision of military soldiers. At first, this time constituted recaps of school shenanigans or debriefs of who was seeing who. It wasn't long, though, until this spiralled into all-night drinking sprees and bar hopping that left all three in a debilitating condition.

See, the thing is, beyond the facades, and requisite male stoicism, things were not what they appeared to be. Matt's mum had lost her job and could barely afford to keep him in school, so he'd picked up a few odd jobs to at least make rent. Mark's parents were embroiled in a difficult divorce that often left him as both mediator and protector for his two younger siblings. John was failing out of most of his classes, badly, as most days he couldn't push past the turmoil in his mind to even get out of bed.

If you'd asked Matt, he'd say John had gotten a bit lazy and started slacking off - perhaps the pressure was getting to him. John would tell you that Mark was too involved with the ladies to spend any time with his friends, or his books. And well Mark, he wouldn't say much because he wasn't around enough to even see that anything had changed.

That was until one hot summer's night. Boys Night had gotten off to a raucous start that Friday - a few shots (or five) to kick things off at home, and hopping between a couple of the hottest spots off-campus. At location three, a charming little country bar with rustic decor and an enchanting small-town charm, things came to a head.

It was Matt's turn to get the drinks, but he stared blank-eyed at the other two when the time to order came, offering up his usual excuse, "I don't have any cash on me."

Maybe it was the heat that plastered their clothes to their backs, or the bar overflowing at the seams with rowdy college kids, perhaps it was even the stress of the looming end-of-semester exams. That, we may never know. But I do know, Mark and John chose that night to finally speak.

They'd had the discussion in passing but had felt too afraid to even try and aggregate just how much Matt owed each of them, or decide what they should do about it.

They were past that point now.

"C'mon, man! There's no way you don't have money AGAIN!" Mark yelled over the blaring song whose artist's twang he couldn't pick out from the buzzing voices in the bar.

"You knew we were coming out, and you know we all pay. How can you possibly not have cash with you, Matt?" John inquired, with a bit more of a measured tone.

"Just spot me, dude! I'll pay you back! I always do!" Matt responded, his defensive tone clearly discernible.

"No way! And the hell you do! I'm over this!" Mark shouted back defiantly, before attempting to storm out dramatically, only to be pinged around the small hexagonal room by intoxicated revellers before he could get to the door.

John followed, maneuvering through the crowd with a lot more tact. Matt watched them for a minute, before being seemingly overcome by something himself that saw him racing to the exit.

"Guys! Wait up! We can't let Boys Night end like this!"

Neither broke their step.

"John! Be reasonable! The night is still young, just cover me this once!"

That got Mark's attention and he instantly swivelled on his heels.

"Be reasonable? Are you out of your mind Matthew? We've been more than reasonable. When was the last time you paid for anything? Bought groceries? Covered your share of the water bill? Huh?" He barked at Matt, who had now been stunned into complete silence.

"Nothing to say for yourself now? Thought so!" Mark continued, as he turned and continued to walk away.

Matt, regaining composure, quickly caught up and grabbed Mark lightly by the forearm, before speaking menacingly close to his face, "Get off your high horse. Since we're keeping score and all, you've not even been there for the last two Boys Nights. How would you know what I pay for? All you do is hop from one girl's bed to the next!"

"You reeeally want to go down this rabbit hole, huh? When we're the ones basically paying all your bills?" Mark gestured to him and John. "I wouldn't be surprised if the clothes on your back right now were bought with our money!"

The look of displeasure on Matt's face quickly switched to one of anger. John, catching this flicker in their friend's eye, stepped in between the two hotheads.

"OK boys, that's enough. Let's pick this up tomorrow when everyone's minds are a little clearer," he half-whispered, not wanting to agitate things further.

"Shut the hell up Switzerland! I thought you'd back me up seeing as we literally had this conversation a few days ago, but it seems you're yet to grow a pair," Mark muttered with contempt.

"What's your problem man?" John heard himself say, surprised at the bile in the tone of his own voice.

"All of you! Everyone! Everything..." Mark trailed off, a slight glisten forming in the corners of his eyes, dimly illuminated by the sparse streetlights.

Matt, not noticing, started to go on another tirade, "I'm sorry we can't all be perfect and happy all the time like you Mark. We're not characters in some play you're reading! We have ACTUAL prob..."

"Matt it's not the time!" John cut him off sternly.

"Has Ariel found her voice? Don't let me get started on you John, and how you barely leave your room. It's a wonder you're even still enrolled as a student here! Meanwhile, some of us would kill to have the opportunity you're taking for granted!" Matt spat back, his tone laced with a venom John had never encountered before.

"Shut up Matt! For once!" John responded with finality, before turning back to Mark who had since gone silent. "Are you good man?"

"No. I'm not good. My dad is leaving my mum and trying to take everything, my siblings included, with him. That's where I've been! I spend most of my weekends driving to and from home to be the only adult in that house. Trying to sort through the mess that's my life now." Mark finally spoke, an air of exhaustion accompanying each word.

"That's real heavy stuff, Mark, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say anything?" John asked, his face now gently contorted in concern.

"Probably the same reason you haven't told us why you don't attend classes anymore. Or why this one can't afford anything," Mark responded, pointing at Matt.

"Well, if you'd actually ASKED Mark, instead of talking about me behind my back, I'd have told you that my mum's been out of work for most of this year. She's draining her savings trying to keep me in school, so forgive me for borrowing a few coins here and there, when I'm not even sure I'll be back next year!" Matt responded, still heated.

"Oh damn, man, that..really...sucks. I wish you'd told us earlier, we'd have helped you find a more permanent solution, like a job or something," Mark said, his guard starting to go down.

"You think I haven't been working? I've been busting my..."

John, seeing that Matt was about to chew Mark out again, hastily cut in, "We're sorry for not asking, or noticing. But it doesn't matter now. Whether or not we saw, or asked, or said something earlier. We have to do better now." He sighed heavily. "You know, I'm so used to being the observant and level-headed one, but all of this is news to me. I guess I haven't been myself either. I don't know what's wrong. Most days I wake up, wanting to do something, go somewhere, but I can't physically get out of bed. It's not like anything traumatic happened, like nobody died or anything," he paused, chuckling nervously, "I just can't find the motivation to do anything. It constantly feels like my brain is not my own, like it's somewhere weighed down by a tonne of rocks in a thick, foggy forest deep in the middle of nowhere..." he trailed off.

That was probably the most they'd ever heard out of John in one breath since they met him. His revelation was met with some reassuring pats on the back and an understanding silence that changed the trajectory of the night.

It was evident that some important conversations needed to be had.