“I know you won’t jump off,” Ahmad told him, “No matter how far you get to tiptoeing off that ledge, you won’t.”
“And why is that?” Reza asked, earnestly.
Ahmad simply shook his head, joining Reza past the railings that held them back. The rugged man sat on it in a relaxed manner, while Reza clutched onto it like he’d slip if a pinkie was misplaced. Construction workers. Too confident for their own good. “Because dying is for people like me,” Ahmad answered, “You’re too selfish to die.”
Reza shook his head. “You don’t understand, Ahmad. It’s too much. This building, this project, this hollow sky,” he looked up at the heavens, “You–”
“You should’ve worked in the theatre, Reza. You’d make a killer Broadway show,” Ahmad laughed, glaring at him. “You know, I thought you’d outgrow your melodrama. I’m glad you’re still the puddle of a boy you were when we were 10.”
Reza didn’t look at his old friend. He didn’t need to. He knew Ahmad wasn’t there. “I miss you,” he said to thin air. The thin air didn’t reply.