Two men embraced next to gate B33 at the Denver International Airport. The taller one, dressed in a sombre black dress, had his mourning-veil adorned head in the other’s shoulder, sobbing heavily. The other man, wearing a bright purple suit with shoes to match, patted the crying man on the back tenderly.
“There, there, Java Bean, don’t cry!” Kenneth Faried tried to hold back tears himself. “We’ll still be able to see each other in the off-season!” He tried to put on a smile, but could not manage it, and turned his head away.
“I don’t want to go to Philadelphia, Kenneth, I cannot bear the thought of life without you, even for a moment!” JaVale Mcgee replied, as he rifled through his handbag, searching for a tissue.
The tissue was located, then handed to Faried, who lifted JaVale’s veil and began to dab his face tenderly.
“And now my mascara is running!” McGee wailed dramatically, shoving his partner’s hand away.
“No it’s not, no it’s not. You look fine. Beautiful.”
“Final call, boarding for flight 3483, service to Philadelphia, the gate is closing” the ticket attendant’s voice droned over the PA system.
JaVale’s tears immediately stopped, replaced by a look of pure panic.
“Kenneth…” he whimpered.
“See you later, Java Bean.” Faried turned and began to walk away. After taking a few steps he glanced back to see that JaVale has not moved. Making a slight shooing motion with his hand, he continued his departure. The tears were no longer able to be restrained. He did not look back again.