It was early. Early enough that I was practically the only one in Woody’s. It was also a weekday, which helped those odds even more. There were a couple of guys seated at the front bar, so I sat in the corner of the back room, tapping my fingers absent-mindedly against my glass. Waiting.
The TV across from me showed two men embracing, rolling around on the sand on the beach.
A sigh, then the crunch of leather in the booth across from me. The sound of a bag being taken off and placed down beside them.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I said, giving a nod of appreciation.
Justin pursed his lips and stretched his mouth backward, a sort of polite non-smile that reminded me of someone we both knew. It appeared that he wasn’t in the chattiest of moods, so I figured I’d just get started.
“There’s just a few things I’d like to say to you,” I began, my eyes falling to my fingertips as I collected my thoughts. I licked my lips and took a breath in. I felt Justin watching me, waiting. His presence made me feel uncomfortable and unbelievably guilty, and I suddenly hated myself for requesting this rendezvous.
I hesitated, and my eyes involuntarily lifted to Justin’s face. He looked back at me blankly, then bit his lip and gave a one-shouldered shrug.
“Well?” he said. Not quite unfriendly, almost bored.
I swallowed. My eyes dropped back down to my hands and I absently picked at my thumb. “I need you to know that I never wanted . . . never intended . . . to cause any problems.”
Justin shifted and I couldn’t help but glance up at him again. He looked over to the side, past my shoulder. His expression softened and he let out a long, quiet exhale through his nose. I watched his shoulders drop.
“And not that I can or do speak for him, but I firmly believe that Brian never meant to hurt you, or cause any harm, either.”
Justin sucked his teeth. “Nice of you to defend him.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. He slouched, his shoulders rounding.
There was a bit of a punch in those words. I blinked, giving us both a second of space before continuing.
“It’s just the truth,” I said, looking him in the eye.
Justin nodded slowly, his expression blank. “The same way him being queer was the truth?”
My eyebrows furrowed and I frowned. “He is. And so am I.”
Justin laughed and shook his head. He looked out past our table, to the bar along the back wall. Time to go a different route.
“Justin, he loves you.”
His eyes shut, just for a second. He turned his body back towards me, though he looked down at the table between us. It was his turn to absently play with his hands. His fingers grasped at the cuff at the end of his jacket sleeve. “Yeah, well, I know he loves you,” he said.
My heart fluttered and demanded my recognition. It broke a bit of the tension and awkwardness, and gave me a slight boost in confidence. I straightened myself up somewhat, watching him, silently begging him to go on.
As if sensing it, Justin looked up at me. “I can tell. It’s obvious when he’s around you.” He shook his head gently and raised his palm up as he continued. “The discreet smiles, the stolen glances when you’re anywhere in the same room. The look in his eyes . . .”
The feeling in my heart started growing. I forced a smile away to be polite, turning it into a frown.
“You’d have to know him really well to pick up on it, of course,” Justin continued. “But to me, it’s obvious.”
I sighed. “And I love him, too. And I know you do. But I think that this whole situation just proves . . . that gay, straight, whatever—it doesn’t fucking matter. No sexual orientation is strong enough to block . . . a certain kind of connection between two people.”
Justin’s gaze fell back to the table. He appeared to be thinking it over.
I shook my head. “I certainly can’t explain it to you. Hell, you probably wouldn’t even want me to if I could. But I don’t know what it is about him . . . I just . . . know that he’s the only guy I could ever feel this way about. He’s the exception for me. And maybe that’s the way it is for him, too. I suspect as much, but I don’t know.”
Justin cleared his throat and leaned forward, looking up at me once again. “I think that there’s probably something about you that feels safe to him . . . because you’re a dyke.”
I shifted back in my booth, taken a bit by surprise. There was still some bite in Justin’s tone, probably due to pent up sour emotions from being apart from Brian, more-so than any personal resentment towards me.
“He’s never even considered the possibility of real love existing, let alone being in a committed relationship,” Justin continued. “And to an even further extent, he’s certainly never viewed lesbians, let alone women, as any sort of option—even sexually. Being with you probably feels like a safe space for him to explore his deeper feelings, because he’s not fighting against the possibility that it could actually turn into something. Of course, he’s a fool for thinking that way . . . since it clearly already has.”
Another long exhale, and another drop of his shoulders. My heart fell for him.
“And with you,” I began, “he really has to pull back, and reassert his lifelong firmly held beliefs about love being bullshit, and how fags can’t commit to each other, that relationships are like a prison . . .”
Justin sucked his teeth again. “Preeeetty much . . .”
This time, I leaned in. “That may be true, but you know as well as I do—shit,— probably even better—that he’s Brian motherfucking Kinney . . . and he doesn’t have to choose between us. I’d wager that neither of us would ever ask him to do so, anyway.”
Justin blinked. “Yeah, but, he HAS chosen.” He spoke louder and a bit faster, holding a firm gaze with me now.
I narrowed my eyes and started shaking my head. “You don’t know that—”
“Yeah, Sage, I do,” Justin interrupted. He shook his head and laughed again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He let it fall against the table loudly. “I mean, c’mon, it’s obvious. He’s BLATANTLY chosen.”
Before I could say anything else, he was grabbing his bag and standing up. He didn’t look back at me, and he walked out quickly.
“I’m sorry . . .” I whispered, to the empty seat across from me.

---16 Hours Earlier ---

“Why the fuck did you bail out on me tonight?” Ethan’s gaze was serious and his tone was frustrated and harsh. He tossed his keys absently onto the coffee table as he stared down Justin, who was sitting on the couch going over some sketches.
Justin didn’t look up. “I told you, I was tired.”
“BullSHIT,” Ethan scoffed. “You went to see him, didn’t you? You left to go to that party you made the poster for. I know you did!”
Justin sighed and closed his sketchbook. He shrugged at Ethan. “So what if I did?”
“Well, you weren’t even gonna fuckin’ tell me about it? Did the two of you hook up? Is that why you ran off so qui—”
“No,” Justin interrupted. “I didn’t even talk to him.” Ethan narrowed his eyes as Justin continued. “He was leaving right when I got there. I didn’t even say hi.”
Ethan chuckled sarcastically. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”
Justin blinked, unruffled. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Nothing happened. I met up with Michael and he left quickly too, so after I checked out the games and stuff I came back here.” Justin cleared his throat and stood up, then looked back at Ethan. “And now I’m really beat, so if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go pass out.”
Ethan huffed as he watched Justin brush right past him, toss his clothes off and fall onto the bed. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and plopped down on the couch, apparently keeping himself company for the night.

--- 8 Hours Later ---

“You still mad?” Justin raised an eyebrow at Ethan as he passed by him at the kitchen table, on his way to pour water into the coffeemaker.
Ethan sighed. “No, I’m not.” Justin glanced over at him as he grabbed a mug out of the cabinet. Ethan offered him a little smile. “I’m sorry, Jus. I should’ve trusted you.”
Justin nodded and turned his attention back to his coffee in progress. Once it was ready he grabbed his steaming mug and sat across from Ethan at the table.
“Y’know, I had a whole life of my own before we got together,” Justin said.
Ethan pursed his lips. “Yeah . . . I remember.”
“And just because I’m with you now doesn’t mean I wanna let all of that go,” Justin blinked. “You have to trust that I’m with you, but I still might go out once in a while.”
Ethan’s glance fell to Justin’s mug. “I, uh, thought you wanted to get away from all of that,” he said.
Justin sipped his coffee and shook his head. “No, I wanted a boyfriend who wasn’t out clubbing every night,” he said, “I didn’t want to stop going out entirely.”
Ethan blinked, his brows furrowing as he thought.
Justin watched the steam rising from his mug. “Is that gonna be a problem?”
A moment of silence, then Ethan started shaking his head.
“No,” he said calmly.
Justin looked up at him.
Ethan smiled, somewhat convincingly. “Not a problem, now that I know that’s what you want.”
Justin’s eyes darted quickly to the side and back again. “Good.” He held Ethan’s gaze for a moment. Ethan’s smile grew and his eyes twinkled. Justin was just beginning to feel his heart warm as he remembered what had drawn him to Ethan in the first place.
“I wanna kiss you,” Ethan said.
Justin chuckled, smiling for the first time since he’d come home.
“Get over here,” Ethan teased.
Justin got up and sat down on Ethan’s lap. The two smiled as they studied each other’s lips.
“God, you are so sexy,” Ethan whispered. He swept a hand across Justin’s cheek, then gently wrapped it around the back of his head and pulled him down into a kiss. Justin wrapped his arms around Ethan’s back and pulled himself closer. Whatever tension had been there between them, it seemed to dissolve in the moment.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Justin chuckled as he pulled back, resting his forehead against Ethan’s. “Unbelieveable.”
Ethan scoffed. “Who the fuck is that, the Girl Scouts?”
Justin stood up, stretched, and walked over to answer the door. He was greeted first by a giant bouquet of red roses. Justin’s eyes narrowed as he paused, waiting for the person to turn around. When he did, a young brunette guy looked innocently back at him. He had a small piece of paper in his hand with an address written on it.
“Umm, hello, I’m looking for Ethan Gold,” the guy said. “Is he here?”
Justin’s brow shot up instantly. He turned his head and looked over at Ethan, who sprung up from the table as soon as he saw the guy in the doorway. He rubbed his neck, guilty.
Justin blinked quickly and looked back at the stranger. “Yeah, he’s right inside.”
The boy looked at him a moment longer. “Oh, okay. Are you his roommate, or . . .?”
Justin turned his head back to Ethan again. “I’m his muse,” he said through gritted teeth.
Ethan walked quickly to the door. “Uhhh, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” the boy replied. “So I drove in. These are for you.” He passed the roses over to Ethan, who reluctantly grabbed them. He let out a nervous sigh as he glanced at Justin, who was staring him down hard.
“Well you shouldn’t have, I think you’d better go now,” Ethan said.
“Oh, what’s the rush?” Justin said. “He made a long drive to see you!” He lifted his hand and let it smack loudly against his thigh.
Ethan shifted nervously and marched over to the boy in the doorway. He muttered quietly, “It’s really not a good time right now. You’re gonna have to go.”
The boy looked back at him longingly. “Okay, well . . . call me?”
Ethan chuckled nervously and slammed the door. “Jus—”
“What the fuck was that?!” Justin yelled. He ripped the bouquet of roses out of Ethan’s hand and marched over towards the bedroom, starting to dismantle the arrangement one flower at a time.
Ethan quickly trotted over to join him. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. When I was away for that concert I was . . . lonely. You weren’t there, I missed you—”
Justin tore the top off one rose and laughed in disbelief. “Oh, so because you couldn’t bare to be without me for one FUCKING night, you had to go and fuck someone else?”
Ethan nodded nervously. “Basically, yes . . .”
“That is such a crock of SHIT!” Justin screamed. He tore the rest of the bouquet apart, petals and leaves flying across the room.
Ethan gulped. “Christ, look what you’re doing to your hands!”
Justin studied the blood running down his fingers and dotting his palms for a half-second. “Well, so fucking what?! You’re a liar!”
Ethan blinked and looked away, sighing.
“And is that why you stayed an extra night?” Justin accused. “To spend one more romantic evening with your new lover?”
Ethan looked at Justin again, and a response wasn’t even necessary. Guilt was painted across his entire face.
“That is SO laughably pathetic!” Justin shouted. He tossed the heads of several flowers at Ethan’s chest, the petals scattering as they hit. Ethan blinked upon their impact.
“It was one stupid mistake!” Ethan shouted, angry tears staining his eyes. “Look how many times you forgave BRIAN!”
“I NEVER forgave Brian!” Justin shouted back. His chest heaved, and he smacked the wad of thorny stems in his hand against Ethan’s chest. “I never had to, because he never promised me anything!You did.”
Justin stared Ethan down for one final moment, blinking to solidify his last statement, then sighed angrily and marched over to the couch, gathering his bag.
Ethan ran up behind him, placing a desperate hand on his shoulder. “I need you! I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”
“Oh save it,” Justin said. He shook his head and laughed in disbelief again. “After all, you still have your music! It’s the only thing you ever really loved.”
Ethan crossed his arms and let out a loud exhale through his nose. His chest and shoulders heaved.
Justin picked up a pair of pants and a T-shirt off the bedroom floor and stuffed it into his bag. He shook his head and began laughing sarcastically. “And that was who you were texting that night, when I called you out on it. Wasn’t it?”
Ethan stood in silence, blinking angrily. A vein on the side of his forehead popped out.
Justin stood still and stared at him, his face becoming void of all emotion. “Wow . . . y’know, I’ve really gotta thank Brian, after all. He taught me how to sniff out assholes who are full of shit.”
Ethan shook his head as he watched Justin leave. Justin slammed the door behind him and Ethan huffed once again, defeated. A moment later Ethan cracked his neck, walked over to grab his violin, and started playing.

---

I woke up with his arms wrapped around me. I was instantly flooded with good feels, both from his touching me and the warm rays of white sunlight just starting to trickle through the window. I smiled as I leaned my head down and planted a soft kiss on the top of his forearm.
The second time we’d made love it had gone on for hours, thanks to Brian’s wonderous ability to keep going after he came. He’d gotten me off several times, and he got off several, himself. I was absolutely amazed I didn’t feel sore, but the day was still young.
I reveled in the feeling of lying there in his bed, feeling his chest against my back, listening to his quiet, adorable breaths as he slept. I couldn’t see his face but just picturing him passed out, with his hair all hanging down over his eyes made my smile grow even larger. I giggled quietly to myself, my happiness spilling over.
A couple moments later, I heard that telltale deep inhale that signaled the lion was waking up. A quiet, first-thing of the morning moan rumbled in his throat and his hands tightened their grasp on my arms. Then, the feeling of his lips on the base of my neck as he kissed me.
“Mmm, good morning,” I whispered, my grin making a comeback.
“Morning, Princess,” he mumbled, his voice thick with grogginess. “How’d you sleep?”
I smiled again and rolled over to face him. “Amazing,” I said.
Brian blinked his eyes open a couple of times, finally adjusting to the light. The corner of his mouth tugged into his tiny half-smile and he brushed some stray hair off my face.
“How bout you?” I asked.
Brian swallowed, his eyes bouncing back and forth from my eyes to my lips. “Mm, best in a while.” He licked his lips, then leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss, his mouth holding my bottom lip hostage for a second longer as he pulled back.
I was absolutely melting in his arms. I tugged his top lip into my mouth and ran the tip of my tongue over it. Brian responded with a moan and a harder kiss. We breathed deeply as we tasted each other, and I felt his hand slowly running down along my side, making its way to my crotch. We were well on our way to round three—
. . . then there was a knock at the door. Actually, more of a desperate, insistent, loud banging.
“Jesus,” I shook as the loud sounds permeated the loft, instantly killing the moment.
“The fuck?” Brian muttered, suddenly pissed off. He glanced over towards the door and the knocking continued. He rolled his eyes, looked back at me and groaned. “Guess I’ll have to take care of that.”
“Good luck,” I said, frowning. “They sound mad.”
“Oh boy,” Brian said sarcastically as he dragged himself out of bed. I got all of a second to admire his naked ass as he bent down, swiped a pair of jeans off the floor and hopped into them one leg at a time as he made his way over to the door.
Brian pulled the heavy door open and scoffed. He shook his head as he found Justin staring back at him, his eyes wide.
“What the fuck is the emergency?” Brian demanded.
“I need to see you,” Justin said nervously. He began trying to walk past Brian, but he was interrupted by a firm hand in the middle of his chest, pushing him right back into the hallway.
“You can see me right here,” Brian said.
Justin flashed back to that first morning when Brian had dropped him off at school. You can see me now//I’ll see you in your dreams. He swallowed as the memories filled him with emotion.
“Please,” Justin pleaded. “I need to talk to you.”
Brian rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Look, you can’t come in. I have company.”
Justin laughed, letting some of his nerves out. “So what else is new?”
Brian blinked as he stared down at him, bemused.
Justin shifted uncomfortably. He swallowed, trying to peek behind Brian. “. . . is it her?”
Brian exhaled as he replied. “That’s none of your concern.”
Justin frowned, the light fading from his eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. But it doesn’t matter, I just need to speak to you. Please.”
“This really isn’t a good time,” Brian said.
“Well, when will be?” Justin asked.
Brian shrugged. “I’ve gotta go. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Thanks a lot,” Justin muttered as the door slid shut in front of him.

I studied Brian as he walked back into the bedroom. Everything about him was different now, from his expression to his walk.
“So . . . it was Justin?” I asked, feeling guilty and awkward.
Brian nodded silently, distracted.
“I see,” I said, watching him, but he didn’t look up. “Are you okay?”
Brian finally looked at me. His face was void, but his eyes were clearly disturbed. “I should get ready for work. I’m gonna be late.”
His good mood was definitely gone, along with our moment.

--- Two Hours Later ---

Standing face-to-face with the Liberty Diner, I sighed. It was too late in the day to see any of the regular group — Ted, Emmett, Michael — in there, so I didn’t have to worry about that. I was only here to see one person, but at the moment, he scared me most of all.
I swallowed, gathered a bit of courage and walked inside. That damn bell chimed, alerting the staff of my entry. Debbie immediately glanced over and smiled, giving a little wave.
“Hi, hun! Grab a seat anywhere you like, we’ll be right with ya!” Her warm demeanor made my visit more comfortable.
“Thanks,” I called back, “but I’m actually not here to eat. I’m here to see—”
“Me?” Justin set down his tray full of dirty dishes on the table beside him, walked over to me and folded his arms.
“You got it,” I said, taking a breath. “Uh, hi.”
Justin raised an eyebrow at me.
“Can, uh, can we . . . talk?”
“I’m working,” Justin said.
“Oh, no, it doesn’t have to be right now,” I said. “Maybe later . . . at Woody’s?”
Justin shrugged.
“Around 8?”
“Sure,” Justin said, his face blank. “Whatever.” He turned and lifted the tray, and walked off towards the kitchen.
My intuition fired up, asking me if I was sure I was doing the right thing.
Hell no. These days, I never was.

Chapter 39: "Closure"

The Vette’s engine roared as Brian shifted into second, tearing through the streets of downtown. It was purring like a damn kitten, and he loved the way it vibrated beneath him. The tires squealed as he took a turn too fast—showing off, no doubt—then came to a smooth halt in front of his loft.
“So what do you think, should I buy it?”
Michael sighed. “I dunno, $30,000 is a lot of money for an old car.”
Brian scoffed. “It’s not OLD, it’s a classic.” He fiddled around with a few of the console controls.
“Well, excuuuse me,” Michael said, rolling his eyes.
“Besides, I’ve got all that money from the GLC for making Carnivale such a success,” Brian beamed.
“Hmm,” Michael said as he stared out the window, becoming totally distant.
Brian hadn’t brought up that night, or said anything remotely resembling concern, an apology, or an inquiry over where their friendship or any other type of relationship stood. Michael was growing increasingly bitter by the second.
“Well dear, I’m going to have to let you out, I’ve gotta swing back to pick up the Jeep and get to work,” Brian said. He looked over and finally noticed Michael staring out the window. He blinked, letting out a cautious exhale. Before he opened his mouth, he already feared the answer. “Mikey . . . you okay?”
Michael huffed. “Are you ever even gonna mention what happened the last time I was over?”
Brian’s gaze fell. Instant guilt.
“Because it’s not like that’s ever happened before,” Michael continued, “and I think it’s worthy of being discussed or at LEAST acknowledged, don’t you?” He looked at Brian with a whole new level of intensity.
Brian didn’t meet his eyes at first, just sat in silence, hoping the moment would somehow pass by without any input from him. Truthfully, he HAD hoped they could just resume their friendship without ever discussing it. Perhaps it was foolish, but it had been his honest wish.
Maybe it was just that not enough time had passed yet.
Finally Brian looked over at Michael. Words still failed him, so he did the best he could and gave a half-assed, awkward shrug.
Michael was not pleased. “Aren’t you gonna fuckin’ say ANYTHING? I mean for Christ’s sakes, we fucked, Brian!” Michael took a breath, then his voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “We made love . . .”
Brian’s eyes shut tight, as he was instantly transported back to the uncomfortable morning after—when he’d been hungover as all hell and found Michael in his bed. He recalled the sinking feeling in his gut as he’d instantly realized what had gone down.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Brian said, giving a little shrug again. As he met his best friend’s interrogating gaze, he felt even more uncomfortable, and pressured. “And I really don’t have time to discuss it now. I’ve gotta get to work.”
“Well when the fuck CAN we talk about it, then?” Michael demanded.
Brian shook his head, unsure, as he looked out through the windshield.
Michael’s hand was on the door lever. “Well that’s just perfect. One of the biggest moments of our entire fuckin’ friendship and we can’t even talk about it.” He opened the door, stepped out, then leaned in to look at Brian one final time.
Brian looked back at him calmly, breathing out audibly. His face was completely serious. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
Michael shook his head. “Yeah, well, that’s not good enough.” He slammed the door and walked away quickly to his car, then sped off. Brian groaned and rubbed his forehead. After a good minute of sitting there collecting himself, he shifted into gear and took off.

---

It was the most productive I’d been in weeks. Months, even. I’d finished my work for the day and it wasn’t even 2:30 yet. I enjoyed a nice long victory stretch before getting up from my desk. There was a bit of a spring in my step as I approached the big bay window and glanced out at the gorgeous sunny day waiting outside. My heart had been pretty much floating ever since Brian’s and my reconciliation, and inspiration was absolutely pouring out of me.
Standing there sipping my green tea, I was just contemplating how it didn’t seem like things could possibly be any better. My thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone buzzing on my desk. I stared out the window as I finished my tea, drinking in the relaxing scene a couple moments longer before making my way over to satisfy the brewing curiosity about who’d texted me.
Turning over my phone, I saw a name on the screen I wouldn’t have expected in a million years.
Rose.
My heart skipped as it registered.
Can we talk?, the text read.
Well, so much for my amazing, relaxing day.
I sighed and bit my lip, contemplating if I should respond at all. After the time we’d spent together, and how wonderful she’d been to me, I probably owed her at least the decency of closure. She’d been an absolute joy, not to mention fantastic in bed. But love her, I did not.
The poor girl had never stood a chance, honestly.
I, like so many others before me, had learned the hard way that once Brian Kinney wormed his way into your heart—into your body—that it wasn’t so easy to get over him.
Actually, from all accounts I’d witnessed thus far, it seemed more on the impossible side. God only knew how many hearts he’d broken all over Pittsburgh. There were probably still tricks crying themselves to sleep over him, feeling their heart strings tugged whenever they caught a glimpse of him in the distance at Babylon. Maybe they straight up felt sick if they had to pass by him in the backroom—no doubt getting sucked off by someone else—or bending someone else over a random fixture.
I opened a blank message to reply to her, but sat and just watched the cursor blink. What the fuck would I even say? “Sorry, I actually really prefer fucking this DUDE?” What the fuck would she think of me? I’d look like a liar—well, that I already was. But I’d look like I’d been lying to her from the start, and that just wasn’t true.
I groaned. I didn’t want any bad blood between us. Maybe we could find some common ground if we met up one last time, and part on good terms. The thought actually did really appeal to me.
Sure, I responded. When works for you?
Her response came through less than a second later, which made me a little uneasy. I’m free now, if you are.
UGH. I’d walked right into that trap. I shouldn’t have responded, pretended I was still busy with work . . . but noooo, I just HAD to fucking answer . . .
It was time to stop running away from her. This poor girl deserved better. If circumstances had been different, she possibly could’ve even been ~the~ one. I’d never know, of course, but it had occurred to me before.
I grit my teeth and agreed to meet up with her in the park in 20 minutes. Then I mentally cussed myself out.

---

I clutched my thermos of hot tea as I strolled through the park. Though it was a sunny, beautiful day, it was still a bit chilly out. Leaves rustled on the sidewalk as I moved along, searching for the bench we’d agreed to meet at. It’d been one we’d gone to on several dates, and I feared returning to it under these circumstances would bring back some bittersweet memories.
Perhaps she’d chosen it on purpose. I felt a momentary wave of unease at the thought of her trying to get back together.
As I strolled through the center of the park, where several different walkways converged into a circle of concrete in front of a giant, beautiful gazebo, I’d just begun to notice the sounds of a particularly fierce violin wafting through the air. I turned towards the source, and discovered a young man with curly black hair vigorously stroking his bow back and forth, his case wide open on the ground for donations—though his eyes were closed, swept up in the song.
I’ve seen him before, the realization hit me, almost causing me to stop in my tracks. But where? My brows furrowed as I kept walking, trying to remember . . .
Then, it came back to me. His face had been on the front cover of a CD I’d seen in Brian’s trash. I’d wanted to ask him about it, cause it seemed so odd to throw away a CD—even though they weren’t worth much of anything these days. Still, it was strange. Ultimately I’d decided against it, though. For all I knew it could’ve been a free sample that came in the mail that he just didn’t give a shit about.
I passed by the violinist without another thought, making my way down the path to the right of the gazebo. A few steps along the way, that familiar silohuette came into view.
There she was, looking as fine as ever. She sat, rather poised, legs crossed and hands folded neatly in her lap. She had her plaid, autumn jacket on, the one that perfectly complimented her hair and eyes.
Sigh, she really was gorgeous. I’d probably really be kicking myself one day for fucking this up.
“Hey,” I said hesitantly. There’d been no way to guage her emotions from her neutral texts. For all I knew, she could’ve hated my guts.
“Hey,” Rose responded. She flashed me a little smile, much to my surprise.
I welcomed it, though, and offered her one in return as I took a seat next to her. “What’s up?” I asked.
“I just didn’t want to leave things like that,” Rose started. “And . . . I wanted to apologize.”
My eyebrow shot up. “Apologize? You?” For what? She owed me nothing. I was the one who owed HER a laundry list of apologies.
Rose sighed. “For running out on you at Babylon. That wasn’t cool. I was upset, but I could’ve handled it better.”
I shook my head dismissively. “Oh, please, don’t worry about it. I deserved that.”
“No, you didn’t,” Rose insisted. “I got too emotional, and I didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself.” Her eyes were full of remorse. “I tend to have a problem with that . . . I get over emotional, and I react too quickly.”
It was my turn to sigh. “I honestly didn’t get that impression. I WAS being distant, you had every right to be frustrated. Plus, I never exactly responded to your . . . declaration.”
Rose’s head dropped slightly. I’d never seen her like this, looking so . . . small. She was always so confident; it was one of the things I found so sexy about her. But today, she seemed totally off.
“I know,” Rose said. “But because of me, maybe, you never really got the chance.”
The look she gave me next pained me. Her eyes were full of hope, and I could just feel that she wanted me to say those words to her. The words I couldn’t say.
Because they weren’t true.
I blinked, and summoned the least offensive voice I possibly could. “That wasn’t your fault, either. I uh, god—I really was hoping I wouldn’t have to say this . . .” I stared blankly at a patch of grass on the other side of the walkway and shook my head, trying to formulate the nicest letdown I could.
All the while Rose just sat there, patiently watching me, waiting. Hoping.
“. . . the reason I didn’t respond to you that night, was because I couldn’t.” I took a breath. “I . . . couldn’t share your sentiment, or your feelings.” I forced myself to look at her.
Rose’s gaze fell down to the space between us. “You don’t love me . . .” she said quietly.
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s it—but I know that I don’t love you in the same way you want me to . . . in the way you love me. And I mean it when I say that I will forever be kicking myself for it.”
She looked up at me again, her eyes heavy, threatening to well up with tears. My heart lurched.
“I’m so sorry,” I continued, swallowing. “You are . . . so fantastic, and you deserve to be loved like a queen. I’m just unable to offer you that. But truly, you’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’re intelligent—”
“Don’t fucking do that,” Rose interrupted. “Please, stop. Don’t tell me how wonderful I am. Just tell me why.” Her eyes had hardened a bit, anger creeping in now. “Tell me why you can’t love me.”
I sighed and bit my lip. I was cornered, though there was no escaping the truth. There wasn’t a single excuse I could offer her that would be believable, she’d see through them all.
Not ‘can’t’ — it’s that I won’t. I didn’t know where that thought came from, but it was much too harsh to say aloud. I couldn’t refute it to myself, though.
“. . . there’s someone else.” There it was. The truth.
Her eyebrows furrowed, hard. “Since when?”
I sighed again. “It’s . . . kind of hard to say. Cause we’re not, like, together, exactly. But there was someone I had feelings for before I met you, and they kind of came back into my life after our big fight.”
Rose blinked, her mouth hanging slightly open as she contemplated my story. “Did you cheat on me?”
I shook my head, trying to reassure her. “No, I promise. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“. . . you weren’t even together with this other girl, but your feelings for her are just SO strong that it was impossible for you to get over her, and just be with me? When you weren’t even sleeping together?!”
I blinked, and my voice caught in my throat. “H-her . . .?” Uh-oh.
“Well?” Rose demanded.
“It’s . . . um, actually . . . a man,” I said. A more awkward sentence had never passed through my lips.
Rose scoffed. “The fuck are you talking about? You told me you were gay.”
“I am,” I insisted. “I don’t know how to explain it to you. I’ve just . . . fallen for this one specific person, and it happens to be a guy. But I am very certainly still a lesbian. Hell, HE’S even gay.”
Rose’s face contorted into an expression that sent shivers down my spine. She looked like she wanted to slap me, strangle me and laugh at me all at the same time.
“What kind of bullshit is that? Are you telling me you’re such a fucked up lesbian that you’d rather be with this GUY—this fag—instead of me? Someone who’s actually a great match for you? Who wants to BE with you?!”
I groaned, getting a bit flustered myself now. I didn’t like her tone when referring to Brian, not one bit.
“I told you, I don’t know how to explain it. But I’ve always believed that love is love, regardless of sexual orientation.” I took a breath. “I mean shit, isn’t that what LGBTQ folks are always telling the heteros? And then it’s just bullshit when it happens to us with the opposite sex? That’s not fair.”
“Don’t spin this around,” Rose said sternly. “You’re a fucking liar, Sage. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” She got up and grabbed her purse, angrily shoving it under her arm. She turned to leave, but paused and turned back to me.
“What’s his name?” she asked, shaking her head in irritation.
I shrugged. “Why?”
“I just want to know.”
“I . . . don’t want to say.”
A scoff. “I’m not going to hunt him down or anything. I just want to hear it . . . I need to hear the name of the person—the reason we can’t be together.”
I sighed. “Brian.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “Brian?”
The way she said it seemed disturbed. She stared out into the distance, scoffing angrily at first, but the longer she stared, the anger faded and her face grew very sad. Tears formed around the edges of her beautiful eyes. It seemed the reality was setting in. Maybe she really did need to hear his name to solidify it.
She sniffled and turned back towards me, but looked down at the ground in front of her as she spoke. “Well, I appreciate you meeting me . . . and telling me the truth.” She cleared her throat. “I uh, hope that you and . . . Brian . . . are very happy together—or not together, or what the fuck ever.” She rubbed a tear away with a gloved finger and marched off, not looking back.
I watched her go, then groaned and laid down on my back along the bench, feet planted flat, staring up at the clouds passing overhead. Sounds of violin music still filled the air, only it was a sad song now. How fitting.

---

“Meet me outside in 15. Coming to pick you up.”
I smiled. The first smile that day since my blissful moment staring out my window after work. Before the terrible encounter with my ex-girlfriend. But, alas, a text from Brian was all I needed to ensure that my evening would turn out much better than my afternoon.
That, and the fact that he was actually coming to pick me up. I was a giddy teenaged girl all over again.
Shit, I wasn’t prepared. I needed to change. Into something that didn’t have the horrible vibes from the last several hours all over it.
. . . something that he’d look at for all of 5 seconds before ripping it off of me.
I bit my lip as my loins started to quake, just thinking about Brian touching me—fucking me—again. The yearning was so strong I was half-tempted to spend my time waiting for him touching myself instead of changing. I dismissed the urge, however, and decided to bottle up the tension and save it to unleash on him. That always seemed to work out nicely.
I went for my usual, simple black leggings and a cute top that hugged all the right places. Just as I pulled on my boots I heard the sound of an unfamiliar car outside. It pulled to a stop and sat there idling, so out of curiosity I went over to glance out the window.
It was Brian, in a dark green Corvette. Could this day be filled with any more surprises?
I smiled and quickly grabbed my bag off the chair, then took off running out the door and down the stairs. Once I got to the front door, however, I slowed it down to my sexy walk as I approached the passenger door. Brian rolled down the window and I leaned in, making a show of it as I did so. I was already so eager to jump his bones, but wanted to make him want me desperately, too.
“You got a new car,” I said, unable to suppress my horny smile.
Brian licked his lips, but was still unable to hide his little smile from me. That achingly confident, we’re gonna fuck later smile.
“So, can I take you for a ride?” he asked.
I giggled and slipped myself inside through the window. I’d always wanted to do that.
Taking a second to admire the interior, the feeling of the vibration between my legs was another welcomed surprise. Brian watched me eagerly all the while. I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “So, where are we going?”
He leaned forward and gave me the most tauntingly sexy kiss, his tongue halfway out already as our mouths connected, leaving me craving so much more as he pulled back and straightened himself upright again, taking the wheel.
“Wherever you want, Princess.”
He casually grabbed the gearshift and slid it back into position, the engine purring as he released the clutch. With that, we were off.