Hold Me Now

A gay story: Hold Me Now Authors note: Its a slow burn.

—- —- —-

He had no idea I existed, did he?

Which I knew, and I knew it was unfair of me to even pretend he would know I existed, or that there was anything between us other than politie nods. He was a CUSTOMER and I’m just some guy trying to pay for Uni, and frankly he wouldn’t even care about that. The extent of our affair was me getting his order right. It would never go anywhere, even if he would look up for once in his goddamn life and realise he had a really tall and- on a good day- kind of cute waiter, it’s not like I really, actually, truly thought that was grounds for a relationship but…. Still. I wish he’d give me something. Anything. Just a little smile when I sat down his coffee…

“Give it up.” My boss, Gideon, said with a sigh as I returned to polish cutlery with him. “He’s straight.” I glanced at Gid. Shit. Was I that obvious? I really thought I was playing it cool. Too cool if anything. Like, Ed didn’t even fucking know my name, or the fact that I was gay, or the fact that I was totally his type if he bothered to get to know me… Anyway, the shit did Gideon know? He’s a pretty great boss, I’ll be honest. That’s probably because I’m his favourite- not that he’d ever say that, but I totally am. I work pretty hard, and I guess he sees it- I get a lot of leeway the other staff don’t; ya know, like a free wine here and there and early finishes whenever he can do that. He said I remind him of him which is goddamn hilarious when you put us side by side because he’s barely up to my shoulders… but I know what he means. I guess he kind of got his shit together in the last year- what with… uggh… falling in love and getting married…. But we’re made of the same cloth. Creative. A bit over compensating sometimes because god forbid anyone thought we were soft. Hard workers. And kind of- well maybe not him anymore- but definitely ME… disaster zones.

“You have literally the worst gaydar in the world.” I raised my eyebrows at him pointedly.

“Do not.” Gideon glared at me.

“You thought your own husband was straight.”

“That’s different.” He rolled his eyes. “He was.”

“Well maybe it’s like that then.” I stole a glance at the table in the window. “Ed’s just waiting for the right dick and then he’ll marry me.”

“That doesn’t happen in real life.” Gideon groaned.

“It did to you.”

“I’m the exception that proves the rule.”

“That’s the stupidest phrase I’ve ever heard.” I giggled. Gideon glanced up and grinned as he caught my eye.

“You gotta admit I’m the exception though.” He said. I mean. Yeah. Totally. It was so unfair that he got a perfect love story with a happily ever after right in front of me and I was still single and hadn’t been laid in months. Gideon told me to try Grindr. Desperate bottoms who’ll send me a photo of their insides but not their face? Lame tops who think a dick pic taken on the toilet will somehow make me come begging? Spare me. My friends told me to try chatting to guys at Ivy. Well I did chat to guys at Ivy. Like every night. But I was having the world’s most unlucky streak. Gideon says I come on too strong. Sue me for wanting a connection, not just a hole. Or a dick. I’ve learnt not to be fussy.

—- —- —-

I watched Ed as I made coffee. He’ll sit in the window and play on his phone for an hour over lunch almost religiously. In summer he has a chicken salad and a glass of Chardonnay. The weathers pretty bitter right now and he’s switched to pasta and Syrah. He’s a fraction taller than me and I’m 6’3 so he must be the perfect height, 6’4 I guess. God we’d be a disarming couple with all that height between us. He has wavy blonde hair and big brown eyes and a soft cherubic face. His nose is wonky, like it was broken once and not quite set right. He works out. He came in wearing his gym gear once and I had to carefully contain myself before I braved talking to him. He is perfect. I’m deeply, deeply in love with him.

I think he’s gay. Gideon thinks I’m an idiot. But Gideon really does have the world’s worst gaydar. It’s because he never used to actually hit on people, before he started fucking his straight friend and fell in love and got married and all that. He just used hookup apps, and he had like 15 guys on speed dial. He used to be a total fucking whore, the whole city knows it. I could be a whore. I’ve definitely tried sleeping around. But I always texted them the next day, asked if they wanted to grab dinner, or like, see a movie….

“You can probably finish, Bales.”

“Huh?” I glanced up at Gideon.

“We’re pretty quiet. If you want the hours I can find you some cleaning…”

“No that’s great!” I was already halfway out of my apron when I realised I was being an ass. “Sorry.” I stopped myself from bolting at the first chance of freedom. “I can stay if it’s helpful.” He smiled at me.

“You’re alright. Save my wage costs. Go get a head start on… studying or drinking or smoking durries outside Romeos or whatever young people do these days.” I rolled my eyes.

“You know me way too well.” I mumbled as I signed out. “Thanks Gid. Owe you one.”

“No you don’t.” He said with a sigh. “If anything I owe you for covering for Sophie again. Never leave me.”

“Never.” I promised. “Even when I’m rich and famous you can always call.”

I strolled out and went to Romeos, the sandwich bar round the corner, and I almost walked in with my cigarette still lit but the guy who works there grabbed my t- shirt and stopped me just in the doorway.

“Woah, woah, Bailey.” He said. “Filthy smokers outside.”

“Shit, my bad.” I blushed awkwardly. He just laughed and stubbed his out.

“The reg?” He asked. “Schnitty sub, filter and a natty?”

“You got it.” I mumbled. I don’t know where they teach these guys to talk. He means a chicken sandwich, a bottomless coffee and a glass of natural wine. I could try something else I guess. I always feel like I’ve been hanging around a place too long when they know my order. And my name, apparently. I didn’t remember him ever asking. Actually, I didn’t remember him at all. So I guess I’m here way too often.

“Sweet as, be waiting for you at the bar.” He grinned and nodded at me as I leant against the wall and had another cigarette. Gideon says I smoke too much. I do. I started real young because all my cool older friends smoked and fitting in was like my number one priority, and now I just like it I guess, and I think vaping looks lame as hell.

As promised, everything was arranged on the bar for me when I settled in with my laptop. I try not to be a total ass and stay there for hours because it’s a tiny place and I know better than anyone how annoying it is when you’re trying to make money to have some dick taking up space and sitting on the bottomless filter coffee. Sometimes I’ll tuck my stuff under the counter and just stand outside for half an hour chain smoking and think about my latest projects for school, how to catch Miro Te Whiti’s eye so I could exhibit in her gallery, and mill around until they have space again and I can order another wine. Sometimes they even let me spill out onto the pavement with the wine, but only in a takeaway coffee cup, and really only the younger guys who sort of know me. If one of the bosses are around that’s a hard no. I was contemplating asking because it was a weirdly busy afternoon for a Wednesday when a takeaway cup appeared in front of me.

“Not on the list, Ash dropped it off.” The guy at the counter said. “Up your alley I think. Chilled red, real acidic. The paper gives it extra flavour.” He winked at me. “Take it outside, I need the bar Bailey.” I blinked at him. It was so weird. I’m in here all the time, like obviously, but I really don’t think I’d talked to this guy before. He clearly had my number though. I slipped off the stool and closed my laptop, which he carefully put on a shelf below the counter and he grinned at me. “That one’s on the house.” He said. “Cos you’re a good sport.”

“Oh shit. Oh no- it’ll be great. I’ll pay, but yeah, I’ll head outside…”

“You can’t afford it.” He grinned at me. “Thanks, B.” He whisked himself away as I went outside again and immediately regretted not grabbing my jacket- but the guy at the counter had already somehow magiced that away too so I just sat on the pavement and sipped on the wine and wrote down notes for the installation I was planning for my course.

“There he is.” A cherry voice interrupted my thoughts and I looked up to see one of the theatre majors I’d done some set work for last trimester leaning on the wall. I hastily scrambled up, oops, looked like a total hobo, and shook his hand.

“Hey Pip.”

“What are ya drinking?” I glanced at the coffee cup. Something sharp and juicy and bloody delicious.

“Uhh… filter.” I lied. “They’ve kicked me out for a minute while they serve the real customers.” Pip laughed.

“I’ll join ya.” He hopped inside and I watched him catch the eye of the guy at the bar. They were obviously old friends- they leant across the counter and embraced each other despite the crowd. They talked for a second when the bartender’s eyes went really wide and he leant in. And then they both turned to look at me and I quickly turned away as my ears went red. Ugh. Talking about me. I hope it was nice. Pip returned a minute later and we leant against the wall. “So what are you up to?” He asked. I tried to play it cool and not say ‘the sickest project ever’ and talk his ear off… I just gestured to my notebook.

“The usual.” I said..

“Chuffing darts and breaking hearts?” He grinned.

“Something like that.” I mumbled.

“Man, I can’t say I’ve been breaking any hearts lately.” He said, casually flicking his cigarette. “Dry patch. Tell me you know some cool art chicks I can meet next project we do.”

“Sure. When’s the next project?” I glanced at him.

“We have a show coming up for Fringe. Comedy maybe? It’s a modern kiwi take on The Trial.”

“Kafka? Is that comedy?”

“It’s a fucking riot!” Pip laughed. “Funniest shit I’ve ever read, you read much Kafka?”

“God no! Spare me. I read Transmetropolitan.”

“That some wanky New York magazine?”

“Na, comic book.” I smiled at him.

“Yeah that’s fair. I guess that’s like, actually palatable.” He sighed. “So anyway, get some girls to work with you, I need the help mate.” I rolled my eyes. God, does no guy ever think with anything other than his dick? He grinned as he saw my face.

“Oh, ok, ok. What? Is your sex schedule so filled up you can’t even imagine needing help?” He teased.

“So what kind of set are we looking at?” I fiddled with my cup.

“Na uh.” He didn’t let me change the subject. “Are you drowning in it?” He asked. “Bales, you dark horse.” I looked over at him reluctantly.

“Na. Scene is dire at the moment. It’s actually… been a while…” I trailed off. As if I wasn’t counting the days. 62, for anyone interested. 62 days since I touched a guy. Gonna be real fucking funny in a week.

“Single then?” He grinned.

“Yuh.” I snorted.

“Cruising or looking for something more?” He asked thoughtfully. I stared at him.

“You offering?” I joked. He laughed and glanced inside.

“Just asking.” He shrugged. “I know some cool guys, that’s all. But he’s… they’re… more into… long term.”

“He’s?!” Pip blushed.

“Oh, sorry- I… assumed…”

“Correctly.” I laughed. “Someone in particular?” He gave me a tiny little grin.

“Maybe.” He said. He opened his mouth but we were interrupted by the guy from inside coming out with three milk crates. He nodded at us and set them up.

“Get comfortable.” He sat down on one and lit a cigarette. “Fuck, what a shift.”

“Busy?” Pip asked. He snorted.

“Shit show. Had to 86 half the menu. Assholes hogging the tables on filter for hours….” He glanced at me. “Oh. Not you, you’re cool.”

“Bailey’s hospo too.” Pip said. “Bales, this is Harrison, he’s an old mate from primary school.”

“Shit.” I shook his hand. “That’s a long way back.” Harrison grinned at Pip.

“Sure is.” He said. “So hospo? Kind of figured, you know the rules.” I didn’t know the rules. I didn’t know what he meant at all, but Pip nodded sagely before turning to me.

“So.” He said brightly. “Super single and looking for a man.” He glanced at Harrison and I sighed. Nice one, Pip, just tell everyone I meet what a disaster I am. That’s a super cool rep to have. I stared awkwardly at my drink and eventually Pip had to break the silence. “What’s your type?” He asked me.

“Uhhh… reciprocating?” I sighed. Pip laughed and Harrison grinned.

“Oh, na.” Harrison shook his head. “You gotta moon over someone who doesn’t know you exist, trust me that’s the good stuff.”

“Ahhh yeah. I know.” I sighed. “You know, you see someone everyday, and you know what they order, and you know you’d be perfect together if only he’d like, I dunno, uh, ask you how your day has been….” Harrison and Pip glanced at each other. “And would it kill him to wear a rainbow flag or something?” I muttered. “I’m sure he’s gay but I’d appreciate the confirmation.” Pip cleared his throat.

“Someone in particular?” He asked. I sighed.

“Ed.” I grumbled. Harrison and Pip were still looking at each other weirdly. Ok, calm down. No one needs to know about your massive unrequited infatuations with men you can never have.

“So like… chances of that working are…” Pip said slowly.

“Less than zero.” I admitted. Pip grinned.

“Sweet.” He said. “So you should keep looking.” Thanks, the advice everyone had already given me. Yep, tried it. Can’t help who you fall for. Pip glanced at his phone. “Ah… I have a thing…” he said slowly. “Should really head…”

“Stay!” Harrison said quickly. “Please.” He widened his eyes. “Don’t be lame.” He said. Pip raised his eyebrows.

“Na, you two hang out, someone else will drift by. I’ll see ya soon.” He grinned and escaped before I could even say goodbye and I bit my lip as I glanced at Harrison. He was staring into his cup and was starting to turn a little pink. Yeah. I’m the worst to be foisted with. Boring, boring, dumb, gay disaster who can’t hold a conversation about anything except men and art. I sighed deeply, internally, and tried to think of a normal something to say.

“So… how’s your day been?” He asked quietly.

“Oh, thanks.” I smiled at him. That was really nice of him to ask. And to let me off the hook for having to start a conversation. “Really good. I got called into work so I had to skip a lecture but it was super quiet so I had a chance to think about my art and stuff…”

“Oh art?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m a student but I’m going to be an artist.” I laughed at my own overconfidence. “And a waiter, probably forever.” I admitted.

“Cool! What like.. uh what do you do?”

“Installation stuff.” I grinned. “Wanna see?” Ugh, no, Bailey, no one wants to see your shitty student art. But I was pulling out my phone anyway, and Harrison actually seemed interested, he shuffled closer to look over my shoulder. I showed him the last thing I’d been working on. Lights are kind of my thing. I’d matched them up to the sounds of people breathing…. I recorded my flatmate Briony going for a run, and a friend Jonno smoking a cigarette- and me wanking even, although I probably couldn’t get away with broadcasting that until I was a LOT more famous… And then I wired all the lights and put them in an empty room synched up to the sounds and I thought it was pretty overwhelmingly beautiful, you know… Just you, in a dark room, with the light and the sounds…..

“Oh shit!” He said. “That’s so cool!”

“I know, right?” I grinned. “I wired all the lights myself, I electrocuted myself like 7 times.” He laughed.

“So you actually make it? You don’t just like… write the idea down and hire people?”

“Hire people?! I’m an art student working like 35 hours, what the shit could I hire someone with?”

“35 hours on top of study?!” Harrison blinked. “Hell I struggle with 40 and this is all I do.”

“Can’t be all you do.” I looked at him. “What’s like… your thing?”

“Um.” He frowned. “No, this is it.”

“Doubt.” I raised my eyebrows at him. Everyone has a thing. Even if it’s just an escape plan. “You wake up to a screen, and it’s saying select your destiny.” I said slowly. “There’s a million options- everything you’ve ever dreamed of, everything you can imagine. What do you pick?” Harrison laughed and blushed.

“Um.” He winced. “Ah, ok. Well.” He glanced at me and took a deep breath. “You ever seen Metalocalypse?” I shook my head.

“Sounds dire. Like a festival? This will shock you but I’m more into like… Camp A Low Hum….” He laughed.

“God you would be.” He grinned. “Didn’t that end like ten years ago? And you fucking hipsters are still moaning about it being cancelled.” I smiled at him.

“Metalocalypse?” I prompted.

“It’s a TV show.” He bit his lip as he looked at me. “It’s um… maybe an acquired taste.”

“Go on.”

“It’s a band of idiots saving the world and fucking people and getting wasted and being famous. I wanna be the lead guitarist, he’s got mad game.” He laughed. “Ah, that sounds really dumb out loud.”

“So you play guitar?” He shrugged.

“Uh… definitely not your genre, B.”

“Metal?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Is that actually playing or is it just like power chords?” Harrison took a deep breath and slowly put his hand to his chest.

“Tonny lommi, Richie Blackmore, Randy Rhodes, Dave Mustaine, Adrian Smith, and Buckethead want a word with you.” He said.

“I’ve heard of Van Halen.” I said. “Does he rank?” Harrison shrugged and wrinkled his nose.

“Yes, he counts.” He said. “But I guess he wouldn’t be in my top ten.” I smiled at him. See, everyone had a thing.

“What’s your favourite band?” He grinned at me and lit another cigarette.

“Tough.” He said. “Probably Death…”

“Oh like Death Metal? All of it?” Harrison winced.

“Well, no, the band is called Death and they’re actually Floridian Old School Black Metal, but then the thing is, and I’m only telling you this because you clearly have no idea about anything so you don’t know I’m a poser, my actual favourite genre is more like heavy rock, like Mastodon and Red Fang…” He suddenly cut himself off. “Ah- ha ha. Sorry. Uh. So you listen to… uhhh… some like hipster wank I’ve never heard of?” He smiled at me so I knew he wasn’t really being mean. I shrugged.

“Well. I don’t have time to go trawling for bands you’ve never heard of so I guess like… Massive Attack, Portishead, Beth Orton, that kind of thing, yeah.” Harrison nodded.

“Nice. I like trip hop too. You just can’t like…” He started to bang his head. “You know?” He said as he laughed and brushed his hair off his face. “Like, thrash to it.” He explained.

“You could try.” I grinned. He laughed.

“I’ll give it a shot when I get home. Gimme your favorite tune, I’ll bash it out.”

“Ah- ok…” I grinned. “Look up Bjork- possibly maybe.”

“Sweet.” He wrote that down and I smiled at his enthusiasm.

“You’re gonna really struggle to thrash that I’ll be honest.” He raised his eyebrows at me and folded his arms.

“I’m up for a challenge.” He said. “I’ll post it on insta, gimme a follow.” I laughed and played with my phone, handing it to him so he could look himself up. I glanced at it. Lots of band photos, pictures of food, some of Romeos and other staff I’d seen. I scrolled through and he clicked off. “Nothing there.” He said. “And don’t scroll too far I get lame like two years back.” I grinned.

“Oh so you’re, like, super cool now? Like a rockstar?” He laughed and punched me in my shoulder. “Na go on.” I teased him. “Tell me about it. Free beer? Hot groupies?”

“Our groupies are sweaty, hairy lads.” He winced.

“Oh, not your type?” He glanced at me and smiled thinly.

“Ah. Not exactly.” He said. He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “My type….” But I’d never find out what his type was because we were interrupted by Louis, another part time hospo, full time dreamer guy who I’d known practically forever. He waved at me and plonked down on the empty milk crate, helping himself to my cigarettes.

“Dana and Xavier split.” He said. “True love doesn’t exist. I think I’ll fuck Brent tonight.”

“Danes and Xav split up?!” I widened my eyes. “Oh my god and don’t fuck Brent, he’s such an ass.”

“Don’t care.” Louis waved his arm. “What’s the point? Why even try if there’s no love?”

“You really should have studied theatre Lou, you have real flair for the dramatic.” I sighed and gestured to Harrison. “This is Harrison, he works here. He plays guitar.’

“Yeah I know.” Louis frowned at me. “Hordes of Hell.” He nodded at Harrison. “Sup dude.” Huh. Yeah, well that’s Wellington for you.

“Who’s Brent?” Harrison asked. “Why don’t I know him?”

“Because he’s Lou’s dirty little secret.” I said.

“Exactly.” Louis grinned. “You’ll hate him. He’s emotionally unavailable and-”

“A total jerk.” I finished for him. Harrison laughed.

“Oh, yeah. That’s up your alley.”

“Shut up.” Louis grinned. “Well… better than your type, dude.” Louis raised his eyebrows pointedly at me. Harrison glanced in my direction.

“Oh?”

“Straight.” Louis said flatly.

“Shut up.” I said halfheartedly. But I couldn’t really sum up the will to protest. I don’t actually have a leg to stand on there. I mean. Marcel wasn’t STRAIGHT. But he did have a girlfriend. I don’t think I’d ever stop being sore about it, but Louis knew that. I glanced at him and his expression softened.

“How emotionally unavailable is YOUR type?” Louis turned to Harrison lightly. “Bales and I have a competition for most deranged love life, you in?” Harrison laughed.

“I don’t have a type.” He said. “I just like what I like.”

“You’re no fun.” Louis smiled.

“I thought you just said your type was ‘doesn’t know I exist’.” I teased him. Harrison looked at me and sipped on his wine slowly.

“Sometimes.” He said. “Although I’d like to upgrade that to ‘BARELY knows I exist.”

“OoooH.” Louis rolled his eyes. “Look at you. Let me know when you upgrade to ‘knows you exist but still pretends you don’t in public’.” Harrison winced.

“Gah, I don’t think I want to be in this deranged love life competition. It sounds awful.”

“Truly awful.” Louis sighed. “Gay men are the worst.”

“Cheers.” I raised my glass and Louis scoffed at me.

“What would you know about it?” He teased and I opened my mouth to argue but I was cut off before I could start as Wes, one of my old tutors, suddenly turned the corner and raced towards us.

“Bales!” She said. “I saw your mock up, looks so sick dude!”

“Ah, thanks.” I grinned. “I’m really excited.” I glanced at the others. “Harrison, Lou, this is Wes, my tutor, she had the whole concept for that obscura stuff I was doing last year.” Wes nodded to them.

“Nice to meet you Lou. Sup, nerd.” She grinned at Harrison. “Quit yet?” She gestured to the cigarette in his hand.

“Tomorrow.” He grinned at her.

“Said that yesterday.”

“I say a lot of shit.” I glanced at Harrison. Damn. Did he know everyone in the whole fucking city? Where did he even come from? I swear I’d never seen him in my life. “I’ll grab you a crate.” He said to Wes. I shook my head.

“I should go anyway.” I said. “I have so much Uni stuff, I’m super behind.”

“But I need to tell you who’s side we’re on with Dana and Xav!” Louis grabbed my arm.

“Dana, obviously.” I scoffed. Louis shook his head wide eyed.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Bales.” I paused, even as I was halfway to standing up.

“Wait, really?”

“I’ll grab that crate.” Harrison said. “And what are we on? How’s the pinot, B?” I glanced at him.

“Uh yeah, really good, but you said I couldn’t afford it…” He waved his hand at me.

“Next round’s on me.” He said. I protested but was swiftly overruled by everyone, and Harrison dashed inside.

“So…” Louis said slowly. “How do you know Harrison?” I shrugged.

“I don’t.” I said. He bit his lip.

“He’s cool though, aye?”

“I guess.” I turned to Wes. “Wanna see the stuff I’ve been playing with?”

“No one cares,” Louis sighed.

“I do!” Wes said, Louis shot her daggers with his eyes but we ignored that and she nestled close to me as I showed her my notes and the sketches I’d done so far.

—- —- —-

I rolled home like two hours later- I’d basically been parked outside as half of creative Wellington drifted past and stuck sound for a while to chat.

“Shit, we should pay you.” Harrison said. “We plonk you outside and seem to make a decent sale every five minutes.” I laughed.

“You already gave me… like… a lot of wine.” I slurred my words. “Ok, on that note, I should really go. Let me settle up.” Harrison shrugged.

“Uh. You’re good.” He said flatly.

“No!” I protested. “Even if that natty was on the house I still owe you for the sando…” God I was beginning to talk like them. Harrison shook his head.

“Covered.” he said firmly. “You’ll be back. Thanks B. I’ll uh… I’ll see ya.” We argued, but he won, and I slunk home feeling lighthearted because my wallet really needed the break. I got stuck into my Uni work for a few hours when I checked instagram and noticed I had some notifications. Oooh. New followers. And a tag.

—

I clicked on the notification and laughed as it took me to a video. It was Harrison in full… god what do you call that? I had to look it up. Corpse paint. His face was painted white with black branches stemming out from his face, standing in leather with a guitar slung around his hips. He took a deep breath and struck a chord before doing… I cracked up. Before doing his best. It was actually hilariously wonderful, to see someone attempt to do a metal cover of Bjork’s ‘Possibly Maybe’. It struck all the right kind of weird wabi sabi vibes I like in outsider art. He was really fucking something at guitar, although obviously he was right, I don’t know anything about it, but I’ve never seen someones fingers move so fast, so that probably meant something. I glanced at the comments. Shit. Like a hundred. I clicked on his profile again. Shit, he really was kind of a rockstar. He had tens of thousands of followers. And they all loved what he was giving them. I went to comment and glanced at his caption.

-Favorite customer @baileyexists reckons I can’t thrash to Bjork. Well I say he can’t make an art installation based off the cover art to Symbolic so challenge fucking on B-

I grinned. God I love a challenge.

-Too easy-

All thoughts of my actual work for Uni totally put aside I looked up the cover art. Oh, way too easy, Harrison. As if I couldn’t do something with that. I could rig it up tonight and if Uni would let me borrow some studio space I’d have it done by tomorrow. And then I’d get back to my regularly scheduled actual study.

I grinned and started to sketch out some ideas, and I even put on the album for inspiration. I’d always thought metal was just awful loud noise and screaming… but this was actually kind of… poetic. This was like a story, it had weird tempo changes and some really pretty melodies threading through underneath. I didn’t like the vocals, but I liked the way it made me want to dance. I found myself turning the volume up as I worked, and on the second listen I was almost singing alone to some of the more predictable bits. I was completely absorbed in my work- I’d moved on from sketching and was playing around with the leftover bits and pieces in my room from the last project when my door burst open.

“Jesus! Knock!” I yelled. My flatmate Briony was staring at me.

“I thought you’d been kidnapped.” She said, reaching for my speakers and turning the music right down. “What the fuck are you listening to?”

“Oops.” I sat up straight. “Sorry, I got a bit lost there.”

“Have you been bodysnatched?” She said. “Where’s the chill low fi beats to study to?”

“They’ll be back when I’m studying.” I stretched out. “I was talking to this guy Harrison…”

“Oh a guy.” she sighed. “Well that makes sense.”

“No!” I laughed. “Oh Christ, so not like that. Anyway he did this cover of Bjork and it was fucking amazing but he said he bet I couldnt make an installation for the cover art to….” I cut myself off. God, I ramble on. Briony gestured for me to continue and I sighed. “To his favourite band so I thought I’d give it a go. I actually really like it.”

“Do you?” She said dubiously. “It’s awful though? Were you listening?” I laughed.

“Yeah. Anyway, look…” I handed her the half finished eyeball that I’d been playing with. She sighed,

“Yeah that’s sick,” She said. “But… no extra credit?”

“I’m an artist!” I pulled her to sit with me. “Look, it’s more about being happy when you’re an artist.” She raised her eyebrows,

“Yeah, like, ok, Bales but… you’re doing this for… a guy?” I laughed.

“Sure, I guess. But like… for a super straight guy who’s really only fucking around. And- I’m like almost done for Uni, I can pull through…”

“Mmmmmmmmm. Ooooo – kay. I get the picture.” She said slowly. “Uh… just, you should do Uni first.”

“It’s good.” I grinned. “Trust.”

“I don’t.” She said. “You’re dumb about guys.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” I grinned at her amicably.

—- — —-

It really did only take me a night. I rigged up an eyeball with leftover lights from all my other work and fucked around on my keyboard and computer, distilling the sounds of Death into an eerie, kind of beautiful riff, with the deep doom-ier bits intact. I had some old scribbles of the Twelve Stations I’d done for some project when I was like 17, and I set it up in a studio the next day. I invited Louis to look at it.

“I hate it.” He said as he walked into the gloom and listened to the sounds, and watched the gigantic eye light up and blink, and follow him across the room. Well, he would hate it. He never like my art. He was a jeweller really- our works were basically the absolute opposite in scale. “But it is sick.” He said. “What was this for?”

“Harrison.” I said. “Here.” I showed him Harrison’s video and Louis sighed.

“Ooof.” He said. “Instagram art battles. This is a bit uncharted. You know most people like, go for a drink and then fuck.” I laughed.

“Uh, ok, wise one. I’ll keep that in mind.” I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t flirting. This is a dick measuring contest.” Louis laughed.

“Well.” He stretched out and looked at me. “In that case I would say good luck but you don’t need it.” He smirked as I punched him on the shoulder.

—- —- —-

-I went easy on you, won’t make that mistake again. Bjork is avant-garde enough to be Metal as hell. But how about Billy Joel? I think I won this round Harrison, and for your next challenge ‘Don’t ask me why’-

I grinned as I posted a video of the piece. He was so out of his league here. I got a LOT of comments, you know along the ‘holy shit, this is dope as hell’ vein, which it was. And not even an hour later Harrison responded to my post.

-Creamed. Absolutely fucking embarrasingly decimated. Owe you a wine B. But Billy Joel? Come on dude, it’s like you’re not trying.-

Well. We’d see.

—- — —

Harrison obviously had access to a stage because a couple of days later he posted a comically overproduced short video to his Instagram. I found myself grinning as I watched it over my lunch break. What a crack up guy. He had dramatic lighting, and a sparkler in his teeth, and a voiceover introducing him before he played a barely recognisable cover of Billy Joel. Dammit. I really did have some work due. I guess it would have to wait because he challenged me to create a lighting piece that ‘inhabited the dulcet tones of ‘Hammer Smashed Face’ which I couldn’t stand on a first listen but kind of liked now that I’d all but broken my neck head banging. For some reason I never could back down from that sort of challenge and I made my way through Cannibal Corpse’s discography while I ignored the impending tightness in my chest whoever I thought about my school work. I had to go out of my way this time- I mean how do you top a fucking stage? You get a gallery. Obviously. Which is a little extreme for an instagram dick measuring contest but hey, I’d done enough volunteer work for the Adam Art Gallery through the years- and I was pretty good at batting my eyelashes to the staff and I reckoned if I tried I could get them to let me exhibit for a night. I had an assignment due but… well. This was way more fun.

—- —- —-

“Bales?” I glanced up to see Gideon looking at me confused. He glanced at his wrist and I stifled a laugh because he never wore a watch. “Weren’t you off like an hour ago?” I straightened up and bit my lip.

“Uh, yeah, but Gabby told- asked- me to put away this stock and…” Gideon sighed and sat down on the stairs.

“Bales, you should have said you were only on till four.” I folded my arms awkwardly and shrunk into the corner.

“It’s ok.” I muttered. “I was already clocked out so your wage costs…”

“No Bales!” Gideon sighed. “Not what I meant. Gabby should be doing this, it’s her job. And don’t you DARE do anything here for free. I’ll adjust that.” He rubbed his eyes. “Durry?” I glanced at the half unpacked boxes lying everywhere.

“Uhhh…”

“I need one.”

“You don’t smoke.” I frowned.

“Yeah, but I like talking to you while you do.” He grinned. “Come on, it’s on the clock.” I glanced at him carefully.

“Uhhh… ok.” I agreed reluctantly.

Once we were outside he looked at me thoughtfully. He took a deep breath. Ughh. I was in for a lecture. I braced myself.

“Bales, you work too hard.” He said.

“I promise I don’t.” I snorted. Gideon laughed.

“Bales you just did an hour and a half of someone else’s job and you weren’t even going to get paid for it.”

“Oh… but really, it was like a shit ton of booze and someone had to do it and I know Gabby is really caught up with the cocktail list right now…” Gideon groaned.

“Fuck, I wish I hadn’t handed that over to her.” He grumbled. “It used to take me a couple of hours a week and I still managed to unpack…” He cut himself off. “Bales that was between us ok? I said nothing.” He stretched out. “Saw that art thing you’re doing on insta. Fucking incredible.” I smiled at him in thanks.

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “Nothing to do with my fucking degree unfortunately. Thanks for letting me go, I have like, tonight to do an assignment.”

“Please tell me you finish that cigarette and go home and do it?” Gideon rolled his eyes. “Don’t stop off at some wine bar and smoke all night.”

“Ugh. You know me waaaay too well.” I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, I always am.”

“Mmm.” Gideon looked at me intensely. “Hey, Bales… you first ok? This job can always take a backseat. I can cover you, yeah?”

“Oh no, it’s fine!” I tried to reassure him. “Work first.” He grunted.

“Work first and you’ll end up running your own fucking restaurant.” He muttered. “You’re an artist. I support you.” I tried not to let my heart melt too much. You know if he was my type, and wasn’t married, and we were anywhere near the same age I might have fallen hook, line and sinker for Gideon. Lucky for me he’s way too short. I puffed on my cigarette and glanced at him.

“Were you?” I asked eventually. “Like an artist?” Gideon chuckled.

“Writer.” He said. “I still do, but I’ve let the dream of having the next Oscar winning screenplay go.”

“Oh, you wanted to do movies?”

“Yeah cute teen movies.” He sighed. “Wes Anderson meets John Hughes. Only gay.”

“I’d absolutely watch that.”

“Well, when you’re famous and rubbing shoulders with Taika Waititi let me know.” He grinned. “I’ll give you a script to casually drop in front of him.”

“I’m already rubbing shoulders with Taika. He comes in for lunch whenever he’s in New Zealand.”

“Dammit does he?” Gideon sighed. “Shit, I’ve probably already blown it then.”

“Probably.” I grinned. “What do you write then? If not screenplays? Poetry?” Gideon laughed.

“Porn.” He winked at me as he stood up.

“Really?” I blinked.

“Good luck on your assignment Bales.”

“Yeah, for the first time I think I need it. Thanks.” I sighed.

—- —- —-

Okay, so I knew better than to go to Romeos- it was always packed this time of day and there was no way I wouldn’t bump into a thousand people who knew me and get totally fucking distracted from submitting my assignemt which THANK GOD was only really a proposal because I was so far from getting it together I was totally fucked if it had been anything more…

But you know, I could probably type it with a glass of wine and a cigarette in my hand… and I did have my laptop… and Gideon had slipped me my tips early this week so I had money burning a hole in my pocket and…

I ended up at Ascot.

I made headway, like I would say 90% before Louis waltzed in and caught my eye.

“I’m working!” I tried to shoo him away. He nodded and sat opposite me anyway. “Lou!”

“Go on, I won’t distract you, I’m meeting Brent anyway.”

“You’re WHAT?” I glanced up from my laptop. “I thought he was purely fucking? You guys do drinks now?”

“I dunno.” Lou shrugged. “He suggested it. Don’t stress Bales, it’s definitely prelude to fucking. I’ll let you know if he decided feelings are worth developing.”

“I hate him.”

“You’ve made that clear.” Louis rolled his eyes. “You’ve barely met him.”

“Weren’t you crying your eyes out about him standing you up like three weeks ago?”

“Weren’t you working on an assignment?” Louis glared at me.

“Oh fuck off.” Ι laughed.

“Anyway, Bales, you have literally the worst history with men in the entire world so….”

“Surely not the entire world…” I sighed. “Although point taken. Okay, just sit there and shut up. I’m super close to finishing.” Louis smiled at me and zipped his lips as I turned back to my laptop and we sat in amicable silence as I worked on my assignment. All good things must come to an end though, and I glanced up as a behemoth of a man thumped down beside Louis.

“Hey!” He grinned cheerily and shoved his hand at me. “You must be Bailey.” I looked him over. Ugh. I hate straight guys. I mean, obviously Brent wasn’t that straight because he was fucking Lou, but you know.

“We’ve met.” I said shortly.

“Oh have we?” He grinned. “I have like face blindness, I swear to god.” Or he just didn’t give a shit, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. I nodded and glanced at Louis who was pursuing his lips at me. Ok, ok. Play nice. I reached for Brent’s hand and to his credit he didn’t try to crush it as we shook. He glanced at my laptop. “Uni stuff?” He asked. I shrugged.

“Yeah, got an assignment due.”

“Oh right. What do you study?”

“Same as Lou.” I looked at Brent, who didn’t seem any the wiser. “Fine Arts.” I explained.

“Oh that’s right.” He grinned. “You’re the one Lou is always complaining about.” I raised my eyebrows at Louis who rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He nudged Brent’s knee. “Bailey’s my best friend.” Brent caught his hand.

“So why were you crying all over my fucking Palace hoodie last week saying you wish you were as good as…”

“Shut UP!” Louis laughed. “I was on my period, it’s not my fault!” I laughed at him.

“As if, idiot.” I grinned and slowly moved my laptop to one side. “Wait, so Lou DOES like my art?” Brent grinned at me and looked at Louis. Louis was glaring at him menacingly. He cleared his throat.

“Na.” He said. “Um he… thinks it’s derivative and… ummm… provincial…” I laughed.

“Good try.” Louis sighed. “Anyway, Brent, what are you drinking? And you Bales, I got a major tip from Beauden Barrat when he came in the other night so it’s my round.” Brent shook his head and reached for his wallet but Louis put his hand on his shoulder and they looked at each other. “Next round you.” Louis said softly. Brent nodded and Louis grinned. “Including Bailey.” He joked. “I guess we picked up a third wheel.” He winked at me. “Beer, babe?” He checked with Brent.

“Do they do beer? Brent asked dubiously.

“Of course they do beer.” Louis rolled his eyes. “But not whatever awful shit you drink probably.”

“Lager if it’s there.” Brent sighed. “Or fucking whatever.”

“Sweet. Lager for the unrefined idiot and Bales and I will split a bottle of Moussamoussettes.”

“A bottle?!” But he was already gone. I glanced at Brent. “I have Uni anyway…” I glanced at my laptop. “You’ll like the Moussamoussettes, like after a lager it’s like drinking candy I promise.” I stood up and Brent stopped me. He cleared his throat.

“Could you stay for a bit please?” He sighed. “Lou’s still mad at me for… uh. A few things, actually…. Anyway, I know he’d like it if I made an effort with his friends…”

“Are you guys like… serious then?” I blinked at him.

“I’m hoping one day.” He glanced at me and I tried to arrange my face to seem neutral. Last time Louis had talked about Brent it sounded like he was in for anything except something serious. I sighed.

“Well I guess we better get along then.” I put my laptop away. “You study?”

“Sure.” He didn’t seem that enthused. “Mechanics. I work in my Dad’s garage.”

“You do not.” I groaned.

“I do?” Brent frowned.

“God. That’s just so like… ” I bit my tongue and tried not to giggle as Brent frowned at me. I mean, it was basically out of a fucking gay Penthouse story right? This big muscled hairy dude working on cars all day and fucking Lou’s twinky ass all night. “That so cool.” I tried to recover gracefully. “I never really got the hang of mechanics. I can wire lights though.”

“Where’d you learn electrical engineering?” Brent looked at me thoughtfully.

“Oh no, I didn’t, I’ve just always liked playing with wires.” I explained. “I used to pull the TV apart and try to put it back together, drove mum and dad crazy.”

“Huh, I totally used to do the same thing. Only I could never put it back together.” Brent smiled at me.

“Well I did say try.” I smiled back.

“And you gave up your hobby that was guaranteed to make you money to be an artist?” He raised his eyebrows. “Hmmm.” I felt myself blush a little.

“I didn’t actually have a choice.” I shrugged. “I couldn’t stop if I tried so what’s the point in getting some awful qualification I’ll never use?”

“You sound just like Lou.” Brent rolled his eyes. “He’s surprisingly good with practical shit, I always tell him he should go into like economics or something useful…”

“You think economics is useful?” I leant over the table. “Have you noticed the whole world is like, on fire? You really think outdated economic models and theories are gonna help?”

“No.” Brent glanced up as Louis returned with our drinks and gave him a smile. “But I do think there’s plenty of Boomers and Gen-Xers who will still pay for it.” Louis rolled his eyes as he poured us some wine.

“Ugh Jesus, babe. I leave you alone for like one minute and you’re already trying to talk Bales into giving up art?”

“Maybe I can save one of you, one day.” He stretched out. “Although likely not either of you, both total lost causes.”

“Yep.” I grinned at Louis and clinked our glasses.

“Are you done?” Lou looked pointedly at my laptop.

“Basically….” I bit my lip. “It’s not due till tomorrow anyway.” Louis frowned at me. “Hey man, you bought a bottle of wine!” I complained. “You’re setting me up for failure!”

“Maybe.” Louis winked at me. “Maybe I want a higher grade than you and I’m resorting to sabotage.”

“Asshole.”

“Finish your paper then!” He rolled his eyes. “Brent and I won’t bother you.” I sighed and opened my laptop up again. I worked on my paper, drifting in and out of eavesdropping on Brent and Louis. I’d only met Brent once or twice before, and he’d always been slightly drunk and very laddish and I still hadn’t really forgiven him for being SUPER unclear about his relationship expectations and leading Louis on for months and rejecting him in public more than once… but he was actually kind of sweet today. He was asking Louis all about his day, and actually listening without interuppting which is a fucking miracle because Louis will gossip your ear off if you give him half a chance. I was actually, truly, miraculously finished, and sending it off through the janky fucking turnitin system and hoping I hadn’t accidentally plagarised anyone when Louis suddenly grabbed my hand across the table. I flinched and glanced up at him.

“What?!” I muttered grumily. His eyes were wide and he leant in.

“Oh my god, Harrison’s here!” He hissed. I glanced up and saw Harrison dangling over the bar, chatting to the guys who worked here. I shrugged.

“Kay?”

“Aren’t you trying to get in his pants?!” Louis shout whispered. I hushed him.

“No! And keep it down!” Brent turned around very obviously and I sighed as he sought out Harrison and the bar and turned back to me wincing.

“Long hair and the Morbid Angel t-shirt?” He asked me. “Oh Bailey, that guy is straight.”

“I know!” I hissed. “I’m not into him! We’re just doing like… an art project together…”

“An art project?!” Louis spluttered. “You mean you’re really publically flirting! What are you doing next anyway? That Dead Cannibals thing?”

“Cannibal Corpse.” Brent and I corrected him at the same time. I sighed.

“Uhhh…” I mean it was really cool. You start me talking about art and I can’t fucking shut up. “Like big canvases in the Adam Art Gallery. I’m uh… buying it out next Thursday, actually I could use your socials Lou, drum up some buzz…”

“On it.” He reached for his phone and Brent mumbled something about how Lou was always nose deep on his social media when he SHOULD be paying his super hot boyfriend attention. Louis and I both caught that and looked at each other. Lou snorted.

“Boyfriend?” He muttered. “You wish.” Brent turned a little pink and I smirked at Louis. Kinda cute, I guess. Maybe I could reevaluate my hate for this guy.

“Big canvases?” Brent cleared his throat. “With like beheaded zombies and guts and stuff? That actually sounds sick.”

“Some guts, yeah.” I grinned. “And some just colours.”

“Rothko did it.” Louis muttered, not looking up from his phone. I sighed.

“I don’t think Rothko had like a monopoly on big colours. And if I’m being derivative of anyone it’s Vince Locke…” I trailed off as across the bar Harrison caught my eye and waved at me. I waved back half heartedly.

“Shit.” I murmured as he started to walk towards me. “He’s coming over. Please keep your fucking mouth shut Lou…”

“Oh sure.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean what would I say? Not like you two have anything going on….” I kicked him under the table as Harrison plonked down next to me.

“Cheating on us!” He admonished me. “How very dare you, B.”

“Plotting.” I smiled at him. “Can’t give you any insight into exactly how fucking badly you’re about to get shown up.” Harrison rolled his eyes and glanced around the table.

“Oop.” He picked up the bottle of wine and looked at it. “Well you’re about to have a night, aren’t you?” I wrinkled my nose. Not if I could help it… but this was already turning into way more than I’d anticipated.

“Want some?” Louis offered.

“Na, I’ve started on red.” Harrison sighed. “Can’t go back now. I’ll get the next bottle, they have Jean Foillard Gamay here, been trying to pop it on at Romeo’s but we just can’t justify the price…” He caught Brent’s eyes and nodded at him. “Sup.” He greeted him. Louis glanced up from his phone and I could see him wincing.

“Ah- Harrison, Brent, Brent- Harrison.” He gestured vaguely to the two of them and turned away again. Harrison beamed.

“Oh YOU’RE Brent.” He grinned. “Nice to meet you.” Brent raised his eyebrows.

“Uh oh.” He said. “You’ve heard of me. I can’t imagine it’s anything good.”

“Correct.” Harrison laughed. “But who wants a good reputation? Bad boys are where it’s at, I hear.”

“What, you’ve decided you like bad boys?” Louis snorted, glancing up from his phone. Harrison grinned and sat back and stretched his arms to rest behind his head. I shuffled away as he spread his legs and his thigh fell against mine.

“Nope.” Harrison grinned. “I like a good, wholesome, studious….” He was cut off as some friends of his arrived and he was pulled away to another table after introducing us. Louis grinned at me.

“See, he’s into you!” He crowed. “He likes a good, wholesome, studious…”

“Girl.” Brent and I finished for him.

“Lou, you have awful gaydar.” Brent sighed.

“So does Bailey!” Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m actually surprised you’re NOT into him Bales, since your type seems to be exclusively straight or closeted.”

“Enough!” I sighed. “We either move on from talking about my non existent love life or I’m off.”

“Ok, fine.” Louis glanced at the bottle of wine. “I guess it’s a little ambitious of me to drink this alone.”

—

It took us all of half an hour to polish off the bubbles and even as I was trying to talk Brent out of buying anything else for me a bottle was plonked down on the table. I glanced up and Harrison was grinning at me. I rolled my eyes.

“Add it to my tab.” I sighed. “Uh dude, you have to stop buying me booze, I can’t pay you back.”

“I’m paying for the company.” He sat beside me again, awkwardly close. I grunted.

“Like an escort?” I raised my eyebrow at him. “Gee, thanks.”

“Stop complaining!” Louis helped himself without being invited. “Wish I had a cute guy buying me fancy wine all the time…”

“I JUST offered!” Brent threw his hands up. Louis smiled at him.

“I said cute.” Harrison and I laughed as Brent groaned and half tackled Lou, turning it into a hug at the last second. I sighed inwardly. Dammit. I had half hoped Louis and I could be single disasters together forever. But fucking asshole Brent turned out to be not so asshole Brent I guess. I glanced at Harrison.

“Thanks.” I mumbled. “You good?”

“Yeah, good.” He smiled. “Gig on Friday, you should come.”

“Oh ok.” I looked at him dubiously. “Where?”

“Valhalla.”

“Mmm.” Not exactly my scene.

“Afterparty at Ivy.” Harrison winked, reading my mind. “But you’re only invited if you come to the gig.”

“Whatever, I practically have a membership to Ivy.”

“I’ll tell them to ban you for the night.” He threatened. I laughed.

“Yeah ok. You guys keen?” I asked Louis and Brent hopefully. At least if I had a friend I could maybe get through it. Or stand outside smoking all night. Louis gave me a look I couldn’t interpret and opened his mouth, but Brent interrupted.

“Who do you play with?” He asked Harrison.

“Hordes of Hell.”

“Oh, nice. You’re opening for Terrestrial Invertebraes…”

“T.I. are opening for us.” Harrison laughed. “Well. We’re arguing about it.”

“Well I’LL go.” Brent nudged Lou. “Maybe I can sweet talk Lou into it but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” Harrison shrugged.

“More the merrier.” He said. “So anyway, B, how was your day?” I shrugged and told him about work, and about just making the deadline for my assignment, all super boring stuff but Harrison seemed interested, nodding along and making jokes. I relaxed as we talked- he told me all about the gig and whatever awful tone they were going for, and I yawned as I helped myself to more wine. Harrison laughed.

“I’m boring you.”

“No you’re not!” I blushed. “Sorry, I’m so tired. I was painting all night.”

“Oooh. For school? What is it?”

“For you, actually.” I stretched out. “I’m exhibiting on Thursday.” Harrison’s eyes went wide.

“EXHIBITING?” He groaned. “Oh no. You really are going to fucking own me aren’t you?” I grinned.

“Yeah, I could have told you that. Don’t throw down for an art battle if you can’t bring the heat.” I grinned. Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Whatever B. Believe it when I see it.” He helped himself to more wine. “So your thing on Thursday and my gig on Friday.” He held out his hand. “May the best man win.”

“I will.” I shook his hand.

—- —- —-

“Hey space cadet.” I glanced up as Gideon waved his hand in front of my face. “Been telling you to sign off for five minutes.”

“I stayed up all night painting.” I yawned. “Oh god how bad was I today?”

“Less chatty than usual.” Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Which isn’t a bad thing, actually.”

“Yeah, I know.” If there’s one thing he has to tell me off for it’s talking. I glanced at the window, where my tall, blonde favourite customer was still sitting. “You don’t need me for another half hour?” Gideon groaned.

“Not if you’re just gonna half ass polish those glasses and moon over straight guys.” I carefully put down the cloth.

“Ah, I guess I’m off then.” I sighed and stretched out. “See ya tomorrow.”

“You’re off tomorrow.”

“Yeah but you and Elijah are coming to my exhibition right?” I smiled and batted my eyelashes at Gideon.

“Ah. Yeah, course Bales. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“7.30 at Adam Art Gallery up near Vic Uni.” I reminded him. “I’ll be so mad at you if you don’t come.”

“I’ll be there!” He laughed. “Angela is all set to cover me here.” I grinned and went to collect my stuff, still yawning. When I headed back Gideon had a coffee sitting for me at the bar. “Any classes this afternoon you need to be awake for?” He asked. I nodded as I sat down and took the coffee gratefully.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I glanced down at my bag filled with big tomes on various gallery practices I should be studying and sighed. I really should do some readings. I half heartedly reached for Exhibition Ethics, trying to stop my eyes from glazing over, when an absolute miracle happened.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” I glanced up lazily, not really expecting to see anyone in particular. My heart skipped a beat. I opened my mouth again just to close it, because I really had nothing to add. I could feel my cheeks kind of going red. Ugh. Annoying. Why does one’s body insist on betraying one?

“Bailey, right?” Ed was looking thoughtfully at me. My hands started to sweat. He knew my name?! How?! I swallowed- my mouth was suddenly like, so dry. I managed to nod. Even though I managed to speak to him like, everyday, and even flirt when I was feeling particularly hot; the way he was leaning on the bar and looking at me was making my head spin and it seemed words were a fraction beyond my capabilities. “Nice to meet you properly.” He smiled and held out his hand, which I shook absentmindedly. Ooh. Nice handshake though. Firm but not painful. “We must have a lot of friends in common because that art thing with the eyeball you did is all over my insta.” I grinned.

“Oh, yeah! Sweet! I mean, it’s Wellington, we’re probably first cousins.” He laughed. “You like, in the community then?”

“Nope.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, yep, but only because of Mum. Art’s not really my thing.” Which was weird because he was only talking to me because of art. I glanced at Gideon, who was trying really hard to act like the till system in front of him was the most interesting thing in the world, and he wasn’t straining his ears.

“Huh.” I grinned at Ed. “But I’m all over your insta?”

“Well.” He shrugged. “Wellington.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess your exhibit is on tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah. You um… you wanna come?”

“Um… I’ll be dragged to it regardless.” He laughed. “I hear you have um. Like an interesting viewpoint on existence within capitalism.” I stared at him.

“Who’s your Mum?” He laughed and shook his head.

“Not important, Bailey.” I loved the way he said my name. Like he was balancing each syllable carefully on his tongue. I smiled at him, hoping my eyes hadn’t warped into giant love hearts.

“So, um, see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah, for sure.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do I need to like, read up on Karl Marx for this one?” I shrugged.

“This is more of an examination of where noise turns into music and how we consume art and what we allow ourselves to exalt and…” I trailed off, wincing at myself. “And the good thing is, we can sell cheap alcohol.”

“There ya go.” He grinned. “You worked out my language.” He flashed me that dazzling utterly fuck me up smile he had. “Anyway- guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.” I smiled back, melting into the bar.

“Yeah.” I said. “See ya.”

I sat silently at the bar, frozen, while he paid, and the second he was out the door Gideon and I turned to each other.

“That was definitely, maybe flirting.” Gideon widened his eyes. “Maybe I do have bad gaydar.”

“You thought so too?!”I sighed happily over my coffee. “Oh man. We are gonna have the most beautiful, tall, talented children.” Gideon rolled his eyes.

“Bales, I said maybe flirting.”

“You said DEFINITELY maybe flirting.” Gideon grinned.

“What do I know anyway?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought my own husband was straight.” I grumbled to myself.

“It’s so unfair.” I sighed. “I must have been into like 20 straight guys and you fucking fall over one and he asks you to marry him.” Gideon rolled his eyes.

“Try dating gay guys?” He suggested.

“Know any?”

“I know where to find them.” I pulled a face.

“I’m not built for hookups.” I muttered. “Is it so much to ask that someone I met in a bar or a cafe thinks I’m the funniest, hottest dude they’ve ever met and falls head over heels for me?” Gideon grinned at me.

“Course not, Bales. He’s out there.”

—- —- —-

Moving the canvases from the studio at Uni to the galley was a mission from hell and I grumbled to myself as I looked at them hopelessly. I didn’t even drive, and I couldn’t walk them halfway across town. Lucky I knew a man with a van, who actually I’d been meaning to talk to anyway.

“Hey Pip.” I grinned at him as he strode into the studio and looked around.

“Aw Bales!” He grinned as he admired my work. “Fuck, dude. Majorly impressive.” I grinned. I hoped so. I’d done a series of giant paintings, which wasn’t really my thing usually, but I’d been inspired by Hilma af Klint and planned to arrange them in a circle like a temple, with the light from outside peeking through…. Some were, definitely, Rothko inspired. Big swaths of red on red with the occasional line… and some were lyrics, and some were my own take on Vince Locke’s truly horrible art that I had fallen in love with over the last two weeks. And, to fulfil Harrison’s lighting requirement I’d wound a serious of neon tubes over the canvas, highlighting the linework. “So just you and me?” He asked dubiously. I shrugged.

“Sorry mate. But I’ll do your set for exposure so we’re totally even.” Pip laughed.

“That’s lucky because there was no way I could pay you.”

As we shuffled paintings into, and a bit on top of, his van I worked up the courage to ask him.

“Sooooo…” I said slowly. “You know how you mentioned you know cool guys…” Pip grinned at me.

“I vaguely recall that.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is there a cool guy you need a hand with?” He grinned at me. “Because uh… I don’t think you need a hand Bales. I think he’s made it pretty clear he’s into you…” I frowned, a little lost. There was no way he knew about Ed, surely? I mean, I guess I’d told him I liked an Ed… but…

“Yeah, that guy Ed…” I said casually. Pip frowned.

“Ed? Who?”

“Regular I’m crushing on?”

“Oh.” Pip said flatly. “Thought you said odds of that were pretty low?”

“Yuh, only here’s the thing- he definitely knows you, he follows you on insta and apparently you’re friends with his little brother…” Pip wrinkled his nose thoughtfully.

“Am I?” He shrugged. “Can’t think of an Ed, sorry Bales.”

“Oh.” I sighed. Dammit. Like hours worth of stalking totally wasted. “Oh well, he’s coming tonight anyway. You can meet him.” Pip grunted.

“Who else is coming?”

“I dunno. Lou. Blair, and all his crowd I assume. Just the usual…”

“Harrison?”

“Yeah, think so.” I shrugged. “He invited me to his gig tomorrow.”

“Oh sweet!” Pip perked up. “I’m going too, I’ll meet you before and we can grab a drink.”

“I don’t know if I’ll go.” I winced. “It’s at Vallhalla.” Pip rolled his eyes.

“So wear some cheap shoes for once.” He said. “You have to go. It’ll be awesome.” I sighed.

“Maybe.” I mumbled.

—– —- —-

We arranged the canvases in the gallery and stood back to admire them as we hung each one. I grinned as I looked at the set up. Fuck I’m good. Painting was totally not my usual fare, but they were so BIG and pleasing…. My phone began to ring as I looked at them, thinking ahead for the first time in like a week. I had no idea what I was gonna do with all of these after tonight- I live in a Wellington flat, it’s not an ideal space to hold what’s one day gonna be priceless art….

“Bales!” Dammit. Why did I pick up the phone?

“Hey Briony….”

“Why am I being invited to a one night one night only Bailey Green exhibition when I know for a fact Bailey Green is behind on his assignments?”

“Uhhh… because Bailey Green can do it all and really wants to win this thing with Harrison?”

“Bales! Can you at least use this for Uni?” I bit my lip as I looked around the space. It wasn’t quite finished and I only had an hour until people would be arriving.

“Can you tell me off later?” I asked. “You’re coming right?”

“Of course dummy, I would never miss anything you do. But-”

“No buts!”

“Bales at least tell me this one isn’t straight?” I choked on the cheap canned gin and tonic I’d been drinking to help me relax.

“He IS straight!” I sighed. “This is NOT a boy thing!” I stretched out. “I’m still majorly hung up on Ed, for your information, Harrison is just…”

“You’re the worst.” Briony sighed. “See you soon Bales.”

She hung up, thank god, and I continued to fuss with the rest of the paintings with help from the baby gallery curator. Joaquin at least seemed to see the point of this. He loved it.

“I’m worried we’re gonna break the speakers though.” He said. I shrugged.

“Put it on my tab. I’ll buy new ones when I’m rich and famous.” He laughed.

“I can’t tell you how much you’ll owe me when you’re rich and famous, Bales.” He grinned at the space. “Lucky for you, this seems to be popping off. We might make some money if we’re lucky” I grinned. That’s why I love Wellington. Everyone and their mum is into whatever random koha art project is happening on a Thursday night.

I was weirdly nervous before it opened and I had to firmly remind myself that this meant absolutely nothing and I was only doing it for fun. Even if no one showed up after all, Joaquin and Pip and I could just drink our way through the beer and bubbles and canned RTDs we only juuuuust legally allowed to sell…. But I shouldn’t have worried. There was a stream of people lining up before we opened and they all congratulated me as I took whatever money they had to donate. Looked like I was going to raise a fair bit, because everyone was being way generous with their donations. That’s probably because they all knew I was the artist and were being nice. I grinned as I saw Harrison in the line and swapped out with Pip to greet him and hustle him in for free. He rolled his eyes and handed Pip a $50 regardless but he was embracing me before I had a chance to argue. I let myself squeeze him back and he pressed his head into my neck.

“I hate you.” He grinned and released me. “Jesus B!” He looked over the room. “Why did you never tell me you were so talented? Although honestly I liked just the lights better.” I grinned and offered him some beer.

“Please tell me you conceded, like forever. You’re seriously fucking wth my study.” Harrison laughed.

“I’ll never concede. But we can go on break if you want?”

“Oh, because you need to call in like 50 favours to help you win the next one?”

“Something like that.” He smiled. “What is the next challenge?” I stretched out.

“Amy Grant.” I said. “Sing your praise to the lord. You’ll fucking hate it.”

“Religious?” Harrison wrinkled his nose. “Are you… like….” I laughed.

“Na, no, fundamental problem there of God hating gays, but give it a listen it’s such a bop I promise.” Harrison doubled over in laughter.

“A BOP?!” He straightened himself out. “I don’t know if I listen to ‘bops’.”

“Oh shut up hipster.”

“HIPSTER? B, go look in a mirror.” He punched my shoulder gently. I hopped on the bench and invited him to join me.

“You only listen to metal, you wear t shirts for places you don’t work at, you drink natural wines no one’s ever heard of and you work at ROMEOS.” I said pointedly. “You really think you’re not a hipster?” Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Bogan.” He said. “If we’re doing labels.” I shrugged.

“Hmm. Bit wanky for a bogan.” I teased.

“Fuck off.” He laughed. I glanced up as someone approached us and grinned as I saw Gideon dangling off his husband’s arm.

“Hey!” I waved them over. “Harrison- this is Gideon, my boss, and Elijah, his husband. This is my mate Harrison. It’s his fault you’re here.”

“Oh, you’re the guy getting Bales into metal.” Gideon laughed. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Harrison smiled. “You’re not actually getting into metal are you B?” I shrugged.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Well my work here is done then.” Harrison grinned.

“You are so not wriggling out of this that easy.” I told him and turned back to Gideon and Elijah. “Shit beer? Shit seltzer?” I offered. “They’re $5 each but I’ll do you two for five because you’re my boss.” Gideon laughed and took me up on my offer, and I made his change from a $20 as Elijah politely talked to Harrison.

“He seems really nice.” Gideon said, glancing at Harrison.

“He’s nice.” I agreed, and my eyes lit up as I looked up and the light from the outside seemed to fall down right onto the tall, blonde, beautiful, favourite regular whom I had every intention to marry. I raised my eyebrows at Gideon.

“He’s here.” I whispered. Gideon frowned and glanced over his shoulder. He looked back at me with a furrowed brow.

“So uh, Bales?” He said cautiously. I sighed. This again.

“Yeah, yeah. Straight. Blah blah blah.” Gideon rolled his eyes, but the barest hint of a smile was playing at his mouth.

“No, seriously, Bales.” He said firmly, and nodded a tiny bit in the direction of his husband, who was laughing at something Harrison was miming out. “Go for that guy. I reckon that’s a sure thing.” I laughed.

“Harrison is straight!”

“So was Elijah.” He said pointedly.

“Well I’m not sucking Harrison off so…” I winced as I realised I was talking to my boss. But he just laughed.

“You could offer.” He suggested semi seriously. “Thanks for the drinks.” I stopped him from leaving me too quickly.

“Gid…”

“Yeah?” I sighed.

“Nothing.” I had been going to ask if he REALLY thought Harrison was straight. But that was a dumb question anyway, because it didn’t matter. Because Ed was heading towards me. Gideon nodded at him as he approached.

“Bales is doing two drinks for $5.” He grinned and gave me a little look. I smiled at him gratefully. He might think I’m an idiot but he’s a good wingman.

“Oh!” Ed laughed. “Better get four then. One for me, one for mum, and one for you Bales….” I smiled at him and started pulling out the drinks as he gestured. “And one for Harrison.” I laughed.

“God, everyone knows Harrison huh?” Ed shrugged.

“Only through you.” He said. “Stalked your insta.” I tried not to swoon. “Is he…” Ed trailed off looking thoughtfully at the drinks. “Like, you dating him or?” I shook my head hastily.

“Oh na, no way.” I laughed awkwardly. Ed smiled at me. Oh it was GAME ON. I couldn’t be misreading this. Could I? I opened my mouth to try and say something witty, but thankfully I was saved because… Miro Te Whiti was approaching us. My hands started to shake. I quickly shoved the beer at Ed. “Hey um, wanna chat but like, the woman in charge of my future is approaching.” Ed glanced over his shoulder and waved. Oh my God. He KNEW Miro te Whiti?! Ed turned back to me with a grin and reached for a glass of bubbles.

“Hey, Mum.” He squeezed her tight, which gave me a second to deal with my head exploding. ED?! Hot Ed?! Hot Ed who I loved was MIRO TE FUCKING WHITI’s KID?!

Way to bury the lead asshole! They pulled apart and Ed gestured to me.

“This is Bailey, he’s the artist.” I swallowed. Oh God. I knew I’d meet her, it’s Wellington and there aren’t that many artists or Gallery curators out there and you just end up rubbing shoulders with everyone. I’d had my eye on exhibiting in He Para Toi for literally years but I knew I was way way in over my head. I’d seen Miro at like, a million functions- but I’d never had the guts to say a word to her. I glanced at Ed. God, it was so like him to be so perfect even his mother was perfect. I grinned and held out my hand. Boys are important, but showing off to the person who will give you a real exhibition in a real gallery one day is way more important. I thrust the drink in her hand and asked if she’d like me to talk her through the exhibit. She laughed.

“I think I get it.” She said. “Eddie showed me your instagram. Exulting and redefining perceptions of art. A new approach to fame in social media. And, judging by the comments, a dick measuring contest.” I blushed, but I managed to let my embarrassment be overshadowed by my laughter and shrugged.

“Yeah, it totally is.” I said. “I do other stuff.”

“Lights.” She said. “It’s fun. What’s the story there?”

“Um. You know. Like taking facets of life and exposing them through sound and light…” I trailed off. Huh, I’m normally really good at talking up my projects. But I was just so… starstruck. Miro te Whiti looked around thoughtfully.

“If you’re getting into this- hyper realistic painting style, you know who you should look into? Frank Zepetta. I think you could do something with your neon lights in that style… something about hero worship and pop culture icons and how we perceive ourselves in myths and reality.” She smiled warmly at me. “Sort of a natural progression of your work so far.” I widened my eyes and drifted towards a table nearby, dragging her with me, and I furiously took notes as we talked about my strengths. Holy fucking hell. She knew me. She GOT me. I caught Ed’s eyes as we were talking and he shook his head with a small smile. Well he couldn’t argue with being overwhelmed by his Mum. That was on him. And he was hovering nearby, which made me delighted because there were a thousand people he could be talking to who were a thousand times cooler than me, but he chose not to.

Naturally Miro te Whiti didn’t have all day to help me outline a future career and was pulled into some grown up circles while I caught up with everyone, and even did a quick interview with a guy from the student magazine. He asked me what I thought of NFTs and I gazed at him blankly. He sighed and asked me how on earth I could exhibit something so clearly trying to disrupt the art world and not know about NFTs and I laughed and explained about Harrison, who he went to talk to as I saw Ed and his Mum were on the verge of leaving. I scrammed to make my final goodbyes with a half hearted apology. The baby journalist did not seem particularly impressed by me, but that didn’t really matter because everyone else did, and if he was yarning on about crypto he clearly wasn’t my audience anyway.

“Thanks for coming!” I beamed at Ed and Miró te Whiti. “I’ll see you soon Ed. And thanks for all the advice, Ms um… Te Whiti…” She rolled her eyes.

“Miro.” She said. “I’m excited to see what you do next. Eddie says we have to have lunch at Olive soon so I’m sure I’ll see you before the next exhibition.” I grinned with delight and rambled about the menu on and off and how I’d be at He Para Toi soon and I’d look her up and prolonged our goodbyes as much as humanly possible. As they managed to escape me I headed back to a Harrison and noticed the journo had headed off.

“Scare him away?” I asked. Harrison grinned toothily at me.

“Maybe.” He said. “He wanted your number but I told him about Ed.”

“He wanted my number?!” My eyes scanned the room to find him again. He was drifting out, saying a brief goodbye to Blair, one of Lou’s older friends. I thumped Harrison.

“Dude! If a guy asks you for my number you give it to him ok? Jesus, I haven’t been hit on in like…” Harrison chuckled.

“You’re very bad at knowing when you’re being hit on.” He said. “I bet you’ve missed a million boys hitting on you. And anyway… we all thought you were kind of… like not going for anyone until Ed rejected you properly?”

“What?!” I spluttered. “Ok, wise guy, when did you join in on the Ed’s about to reject me train? I don’t remember asking, actually.”

“Everyone in the world can see he’s straight.” Harrison rolled his eyes.

“What would you know about it?” Harrison stood up with a sigh.

“Yep.” He said. “‘What would I know about it eh? Nothing, clearly.” He walked pointedly away in the opposite direction and I frowned at him. He was mad at me.

—- — —

I didn’t like that he was mad at me. It really soured what should have been the best night of my year so far. We didn’t get a chance to catch up before he left so I had no idea what to do about it. Well. Maybe he’d get over it. Maybe it was just because I was creaming him in his dumb little game and he didn’t like losing.

I caught up with Lou for class the next day and we went for drinks afterwards to start planning our next assignments together.

“What time are we meeting tonight?” He asked. “Brent’s all excited.” I felt a vague twinge in the back of my neck.

“So you’re like… actually dating now?” I asked flatly. Lou shrugged.

“He…” He sighed. “He said he’s sorry.” I rolled my eyes.

“How many fucking times does he have to say he’s sorry before you realise he’s never going to change?”

“But he has changed.” Lou said quietly. “Don’t you think? He never would have hung out with us at Ascot before. And he would never have gone to a gig with us, he would have just gone and if I was there pretended not to know me.” He bit his lip. “He even came out to his folks….” He sighed. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I really think… I mean I really think he’s trying.” I glanced at Lou. Well I could say what I wanted to say, that Brent had always been a dickhead and I couldn’t bear him and Lou should join me back in the glory of being single and ready to mingle… but I couldn’t lie to my best friend.

“He’s trying.” I agreed. “Sorry. I’ll try too.” Lou beamed.

“So I thought we could hit Ascot around 7 and head down to the gig like 9ish?”

“Do I have to go?” I winced. “It sounds so lame.”

“‘It does not!” Lou chided me. “It’s an awesome guy in an awesome band and we NEVER do anything that’s not art or drinking.”

“There’s a reason we never do anything not art or drinking related.’ I grumbled. “I’m behind on schoolwork. Bríony will kill me if I go.”

“Is Briony your mother?”

“Mum will also kill me if I start failing.”

“So don’t start failing.” Lou folded his arms. “Harrison will be gutted if you don’t go. It’s not fair that you drag him to your stuff and don’t even try with his stuff.” Dammit. True.

“Ugh, fine.” I sighed.

—-

We met up at Ascot and I really did try with Brent. He was ok. Ugh, ok, no, he was charming and lovely and so, so into Lou. I swallowed my pride and decided I was happy for them, and made them buy me drinks to make up for being happy and in love while I was drowning in a sea of unfinished assignments and unrequited affection. I guess if Lou and I weren’t two single disasters against the world it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have nice couple best friends instead, who would be sweet and sensible and stop me from drinking too much. They dragged me to the gig, which I was having second… third…maybe forth thoughts about but Lou reminded me that I had to, for Harrison’s sake, and that was the nail in the coffin, really.

We rocked up and the bouncer took Lou and Brent’s money before eyeing me up. I held out my money awkwardly and prayed he’d just let me in without some smart arsed comment, but he glanced down at a sheet in front of him and jerked his thumb to the doorway.

“You’re on the door.” He said. I blinked.

“Me?” I frowned. “I doubt that.” The doorman shrugged.

“You Bailey Green?”

“How did you know that?” I laughed. Maybe my name was getting out there?

“Harrison said to look out for a tall guy with sandy hair wearing dumb clothes.” I frowned as I was ushered inside.

“Dumb clothes?” I said to Louis. He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“What?!” Lou looked me over and winced.

“It’s a metal gig, Bales. You look like….”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve never been to a metal gig.” I looked Louis over properly. Hmm. T shirt and jeans. New look for him. I looked down at myself in a kind of nice shirt and very tight very expensive trousers.

“Well. I’ve never been to a metal gig before.” I glanced over the crowd. Sweaty, hairy lads in various t-shirts or denim jackets covered in patches. I sighed. “Fuck, I stick out like a sore thumb. Lucky Brent’s here.” I grinned at Brent. “Be my bodyguard, pretty please?” Brent laughed.

“You’ll be fine.” He said. “‘Lou’s the one I have to watch for… fuck where’s he wandered off to….?” I nodded in the direction of the bar, which is where Lou usually wandered off to if you took your eyes off him for half a second. “See?” Brent said. “And you’re tall, you’ll be fine in a wall of death.”

“Wall of WHAT?!” But he was already catching up with Lou, and I let them buy me another drink as we waited for Harrison’s band.

—-

I seriously regretted my choice of outfit after one song. Maybe the beer everyone had sloshed over me while head banging would come out. Maybe. Lou and Brent had pulled me right into the front of the crowd and I felt like I was beaten up from every angle. Jesus Christ this was like nothing I’d ever been to. The last time I saw a gig live everyone just swayed and vaguely moved… but this was…

Well. In all honesty. It was fucking exhilarating. One I realised my shirt was totally fucked and decided not to care about the various parts of peoples bodies flying at me I kind of leaned into it. Harrison was exceptional. And he looked… like fucking incredible. The whole band did. They were like fucking Vikings up on stage, making my ears practically bleed and my throat hoarse from shouting along to the choruses I didn’t know. I lost all sense of self and started throwing myself into the crowd, finding anonymous hands would pick me up whenever I stumbled and guys with long hair would pat me on the back and blearily check if I was ok. The energy was unreal. I didn’t even know New Zealanders could behave like this. Like a heaving thumping mass of sweat and alcohol…

I found I was hollering for more with the rest of the crowd when the lights grew dim. And my heart rate picked up as I heard a very familiar riff.

A spotlight fell on Harrison, who’d spotted me in the crowd and was grinning at me salaciously as he picked his way through the opening to the outrageously corny Christian rock song I’d asked him to cover. The crowd didn’t know it, but the intensity of that opening is so fucking awesome- like I said it’s a major bop- that as the spotlight grew to include the whole band the room felt like it was rocking with an earthquake. The noise was like a wall of thunder as we cheered and I heard the best cover I’ve ever heard in my entire life of anything.

They killed it. God knows how they’d rearranged the orchestral music into a fucking metal band arrangement in hours but it was the best thing I’d ever heard. I was screaming like some teenage fan girl as they finished, and Harrison briefly took the microphone from their frontman.

“For anyone paying attention, you owe that to Bailey Green in the front row. Maybe not game over, but I hope we’re even for now.” I felt the cheers and the crowd all but physically lifting me up, even if none of them knew what on earth he was on about. And the stage went black after their encore, and I stood there, screaming, with the rest of the crowd for like ten minutes before Lou nudged me and pulled me away to meet up with Brent outside.

—

I spotted Harrison and his band talking outside. I wanted to say hi, but I was kind of seeing him in a new light. Like. I was kinda starstruck. That guy on stage with wild hair and amazing guitar skills seemed miles away from the scruffy kid I knew from Romeos. His band seemed so… effortlessly cool. In a very masc and slightly threatening way. I could imagine me walking up and squeaking out an awkward hello, and I could imagine the way they’d look at me. Na. Harrison should enjoy himself. He didn’t want me inserting myself into whatever deeply cool conversation they were having. I lit a cigarette and scanned the crowd for anyone I knew- Pip was here and had gone with Louis to buy another round and they must be heading out soon… but I couldn’t see them. I wrapped my arms around myself. The high of the gig was wearing off. I felt awkward again and was keenly aware of how… out of place I looked. I really wish I’d paid attention when Louis had told me to dress down.

“B!” I glanced up to see Harrison had spotted me and was handing his beer to the drummer. “I’m so glad you came!” He ran towards me and before I had a chance to process he’d leapt on me, and wrapped his legs around my waist. Oh Jesus. This wasn’t my forte. He was like 1000 kg, I swear to God, and I’m not exactly a gym bro. I grunted as he leapt off me again.

“Fuck Harrison!” I laughed. “Gimme some time to warm up before we perform dirty dancing!” He laughed.

“You caught me though.”

“Barely!”

“Did you love it?!” He grinned, lighting a cigarette.

“Incredible, amazing, hated most of it, you’re the most talented guy I’ve ever met.” I grinned at him and he did a little mock bow.

“All for you.” He joked. “I’m so glad you came. I absolutely thought you’d bail, Bailey.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” I blushed, hoping he couldn’t see how much of a lie that was. He grabbed my hand and started ushering me over to the band. I dragged my feet a bit, but there was no getting out of it. I glanced at him. Maybe they were way nicer than they looked. I mean, Harrison was kind of an idiot. In a good way. Maybe that threatening aura they were emanating was just like, stage energy-

“The mysterious B!” The drummer grinned and went to fist bump me. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Uh, hi.” Hmm. Lame. Try again. “Sick gig.” I nodded at them.

“Fuck yeah!” The frontman pulled that hand signal thing at me and grinned. “Glad you came! We rehearsed like crazy for the encore, Harrison promised you’d cream yourself.” I laughed.

“I didn’t say that.” Harrison shoved him and was brushed off. “But did you?” He asked me seriously.

“Sure.” I swallowed. “Totally busted a nut. Lucky you can’t see because I’m also covered in beer…”

“Aw I knew he’d love it.” Harrison grinned at his guys. “Uh so… this is Fox, Nat, Lando, and Skinner.” He pointed them out and I nodded at them in turn. “You wanna drink?” Harrison leaned against a wall, drawing us into a more private conversation. He glanced at my empty hands and I looked over my shoulder- but still, no one.

“I have one on the way.” I wrinkled my nose. “Somewhere…”

“Oh, are you here with someone?” Harrison blinked.

“Just Lou and Brent.”

“Ooo, they’re like a real thing now?” I laughed.

“Yeah. Real cosy.” I sighed.

“So you’re alone.” He said. “Can’t have that. What do you want to do?” I laughed at him and glanced down at myself.

“Well… You promised me an after party at Ivy and I’m dressed for it.”

“That I did B.” He tucked his arm in mine and squeezed it. “Couple of durries and we’ll head, ok?”

“Ok.” I grinned as he settled in closer to me. “That was really brilliant.” I told him. “I think you’ve broken me. I think I have to start wearing all those patches and stuff and grow my hair out.” He laughed.

“Not sure about that look for you.” He said. “But come over sometime, I’ll share my wardrobe if you want to try a new thing. I’ll lend you some records.”

“Just link me a Spotify playlist.” I rolled my eyes. “No one listens to RECORDS.”

“‘I do!”

“Thought you weren’t a hipster?” I teased him. He nudged my shoulder.

“You know what?” He said. “I defy labels, B.”

“Sounds like something a hipster would say.”

“Fuck off!” He laughed. “Wait here for me, I just gotta say hello and goodbye to some people.” I let him go, prancing off to some goth looking chicks who I reckon were delighted to see him heading their way. I silently wished him good luck and turned to find Lou and Pip finally bearing down on me out of nowhere.

“Hey!” I greeted them cheerily. “Ugh, that was soooo good. Asshole. He’s so damn perfect.” Louis raised his eyebrows, propping himself up on the wall I was sitting on.

“Are we drunk enough?” He slurred slightly. Pip shook his head.

“No, we’ve been explicitly told not to say anything.” He sighed. “We’re all heading to Ivy though, fingers crossed.” Louis shook his head.

“‘We need more than our fingers crossed.” He said. “We need an honest to god miracle.”

“What are you on about?” I smiled at the two of them amicably and they exchanged glances.

“Nothing.” They said unconvincingly at the same time. Whatever. They were majorly chopped, and I was too. I really can’t imagine it was anything interesting.

—

I don’t think I’d paid for a single drink all night, which was a major blessing for a hard up student- but I really did try to protest when I felt Harrison’s arm around me at Ivy. He squeezed my shoulder and glanced at the bar, his card already dangling from his hand.

“No natural wine.” He whined. “Oh no B, what can I woo you with this time?” I laughed.

“Stop buying me drinks!” I chastised him.

“But I still owe you a wine for…”

“I owe you.” I said firmly. “G and T?”

“Fine.” He smiled. “But I’ll have a beer.”

“Sweet.” I paid, and he was knee deep in conversation with the bartender in seconds so I told him to bring my drink out to me and parked up outside with the others. I’d want to dance, but not yet. I was still in the chain smoking and talking shit part of the evening despite how late it was getting. I watched Harrison at the bar as he talked- well, probably flirted to- the girl behind it. He swept his hair off his face, pulling it into a bun. I frowned at him. There was just… something in the way he did that. It was probably because of his stage get up- all leather and eyeliner… he just… something about him was… I couldn’t put a finger on it.

Lou and Brent were absolutely no good. They’d hit the ‘in each other’s arms giggling at each other’s reddit feed’ point of the night. They’d be ubering home in seconds. Pip was moaning about being at Ivy because there was no one to hit on and I rolled my eyes.

“You and Harrison go hit up literally anywhere else then.” I suggested. I glanced inside and felt my feet start to tap. Phew. Like one more drink and I could ditch this lousy crew and dance and even, if I was feeling particularly brave, go home with someone. Pip snorted.

“You want me and HARRISON to hit up somewhere straight?” He laughed. “Yeah, sure, he’ll love that.”

“Why not?” I sighed. “Or if you’re so desperate to hit on someone try batting for the other team for a bit.” Pip opened his mouth and looked at me, and he started to laugh.

“Harrison DOES bat for the other team!” He choked out. “God I know you have bad gaydar but come on.” I choked on my cigarette.

“Harrison’s bi?” I looked at him at the bar and he waved to me, spilling beer over himself as he lifted his arm.

“Harrison’s fucking gay!” Pip hit Louis the shoulder. “You hearing this?!” He said. Louis barely glanced up from his phone.

“Told you so.” He said flatly.

“Wait, really?” Brent sat up straight. “Oh my god Bailey, if he’s gay then I take it all back. He is like, seriously into you.”

“No he’s not!” I widened my eyes at them all. “And he’s got my drink and he’s two seconds away so zip it!” The three of them looked at each other. I could see them all itching to say something. But to my relief Harrison plonked down beside me and handed me my drink.

“Sorry.” He said. “Old friend.” Yeah, who wasn’t?

“Thanks.” I took the drink awkwardly. I felt tongue tied all of a sudden. Gay? Harrison? No way. No fucking way! He was so…. Not. You know? But yeah if he WAS then maybe even a moron like me could admit the way he… nope. Not going down that rabbit hole. Drinking and dancing. That’s all I wanted to do. So I gulped down my gin and said goodbye to Lou and Brent as they drifted off to their Uber, and I left Pip and Harrison to it, to go dance.

It was probably the way too much alcohol I’d imbibed, or the fact that no one was grinding on me, or the fact that I still had all this work to do and I couldn’t relax but…

I felt like Harrison was watching me.

But I’ve done that before. A million times. So I decided not to let myself feel anything, because the last thing in my life I needed was… feelings… for another probably not that into me guy.

—–

I was in Romeos a couple of days later and grinned when I saw him.

“Hey.” He waved me over to the counter. “So. I’ve been thinking about it. You were telling me about the lights and the hero worship Frank Zepetta stuff…” I glanced at him. Was I? God I go on. I guess I’d been pretty excited by Miro Te Witi’s advice and had started on this round of exhibiting for Uni with that in mind. But I don’t realise I’d bored the tits off everyone by talking about it already. “So, because I have been told off by one Briony Williams that I’m ruining your degree I’ve decided we’re putting this competition on hold until the end of this trimester.”

“Don’t listen to Briony.” I groaned. “She’s like a fucking mother hen honestly. If it were up to her I’d be locked inside all day studying.”

“Yeah, I got that vibe.” Harrison leant over the counter and put his fingers to his lips. “So we agree not to tell her but I reckon you’re gonna, like, adore Sleep and it’s so in line with the stuff you’re working on so your challenge is to listen to Holy Mountain and work it into your art without your fiat mate finding out.” I yawned and grinned at him.

“I do adore sleep.” I joked. “But I’ll check the band out. You promised you’d make me some playlists anyway.” Harrison smiled at me.

“That I did, B. I’m on it.” He stretched out as he pulled down a glass and set in front of me. “What’ll you have? Got a Pet Nat that tastes like candy and green apples.” He grinned. “You’ll Iove it.”

“Sure thing.” I watched him thoughtfully as his back was turned. Yeah. Straight right? Right? Just a total goofball. Pip was way off base. I mean- I don’t know how to describe it. You just never see gay guys who… slouch like that… or wear jeans that are ripped in a ‘I ripped my jeans and I couldn’t be fucked replacing them’ kinda way… or slap a cap on because they have long metalhead hair that they don’t wash enough. He pushed the glass toward me.

“There ya go B.” He leant on the counter. “So what’s up your sleeve?” I sighed.

“Finishing my homework.” I said. “Briony might be a dickhead but she sometimes has a point. I’ll get right on to beating you in like a week.”

“Sounds like something a loser would say.” He grinned.

“Whatever. We’ll see who the real loser is when I have a degree…” Harrison’s face fell a fraction and I felt my chest grow tight. “Oh… not like that…” I laughed awkwardly. “Oh dude, my shit talk needs so much work. Please ignore me I’m sorry.” I could feel my face burning as Harrison shook his head.

“It just hurt cos it’s true!” He laughed. “You’re mean.” He caught the eye of a customer who wandered in and pouted at me before he went to take the order. “You go ahead and think about making that up to me.” I felt my forehead wrinkle as he moved away. I found myself staring at him…

And I was interrupted by Louis thumping next to me.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He said. I shrugged.

“Likewise.” Louis grinned at me as he followed where I’d been gazing absentmindedly.

“Just hanging out with the boy you’re not flirting with?” I rolled my eyes.

“You don’t think he’s actually gay do you? Look at his shoes.” Louis winced as he took them in.

“Hmmm.” He said. “Some gay men are slobs right? Like, statistically. There have to be some.”

“Either way. Wrong tree. How are you getting on with your assignments? I actually think I fucked myself over big time.”

“Yeah me too, I have so much to do for the next three weeks.”

“Have some of this.” I passed him the wine and he sipped it.

“That’s like drinking passion pop.”

“Only it’s like 5 times the price.”

“Yeah let’s get a bottle.”

—–

I was on the way home a couple of days later when I heard a voice calling down the street.

“B!” I turned around and Harrison was waving at me and jogging to catch up. “Hey.” He grinned. I smiled at him. Bailey is two syllables. Bales is only one. Harrison is the only person in the entire world who seems to think that’s still too many letters.

“Hey… Aitch.” I tried. We laughed. “Huh, not as cute as B, I’ll give you that. Harry?” Harrison shook his head firmly. “Sonny?” I laughed. “What do your parents call you?” Harrison folded his arms.

“What do your parents call YOU?” He fired back. “Bales, right?”

“Sausage.” I said. Harrison started to laugh.

“What?!” He said. “Sausage?!”

“It’s a term of endearment.” I said, rolling my eyes. “You know parents. So go on, you?”

“Well.” He raised an eyebrow. “This is highly confidential B, I’m only telling you because I owe you after ‘sausage’.” He lowered his voice and sighed as he leant in. “Ernie.” I frowned.

“Ernie? As in; Bert and…?”

“Shhh!” He motioned for me to keep it down. “Which is exactly why I go by my surname. Tell anyone and I’ll gut you.”

“Your parents named you Ernie? Is that short for something?”

“Ernesto.” He groaned. “After Che Guevara, before they actually apparently read up on Che Guevara.” I stared at him. That was even worse.

“Ernesto?!” He punched my shoulder.

“Swear to god B, you are taking that to your grave.” I smiled at him.

“Harrison suits you.” I said. “I think it’s cool you got to choose your own name.” He grunted. “But Ernie’s cute.” I said. “It suits you too.”

“Ugh.” He sighed. “Couldn’t have kept my damn mouth shut. Anyway, what are you up to?” I pointed vaguely down the street.

“I dunno. I was going to pick up some wine, then maybe drift into Thrift but I can’t afford anything there anyway so what’s the point…”

“I’ll come with.” Harrison started marching towards the natural wine store and I stumbled as I caught up. “Just on a two hour break.” He explained. “Takes an hour to bike home so kind of stuck in town.”

“An hour to bike home? Where do you live?”

“Strathmore.” He said. “You?”

“Literally like up the road. Webb St.”

“I used to work at the Hell Pizza on Webb St.” He said as we reached the store and he strode in. “Shit show.”He nodded at Ash at the counter. “Sup Ash.”

“Hey Harrison. Bailey.” She greeted me as well. “Oooh, Bailey- we have a new pinot rose…” Harrison glanced over at her.

“The Memento Mori stuff? He loves it, but he’s a student.” She laughed. Harrison nodded at me. “The plonk we were drinking the other day.” He said. He pointed to it on a shelf and I immediately wanted it. The label was sick as hell. I sighed as I read the price though… $55. It’s so unreasonable that I have expensive taste in wine. Harrison looked at my face and glanced at Ash.

“Do I get a discount here?” He asked, She snorted.

“Why, because you’re so pretty?”

“Because you know Seb listens to me about wine and I can get a lot of this on the list.” He gestured around the store. Ash laughed.

“You’re an ass Harrison. What do you want?”

“Here.” He reached past me and grabbed a bottle of the Memento Mori Pinot Rosé and slammed it on the counter.

“Give it to you trade.” She said. “But you better list it.”

“Done.” He purchased the wine as I fished my refillable bottle out of my bag and got one the significantly cheaper tap wines and we said hi to Raf, the dog, before heading across the street. Harrison handed me his bottle of wine as we entered. He stopped me and unzipped my backpack and grabbed the bottle off me again, shoving it in my bag as I protested..

“Uh, can I not be the pack horse here?” I fussed. He frowned as he zipped up my bag again.

“It’s for you.” He said.

“What? No!”

“Too late.” He shrugged and pulled a denim pair of overalls down. “These are cool.”

“Sure, if you need a new outfit for line dancing. Wait- you didn’t need to get me wine… I’ll get you back…” He rolled his eyes at me.

“They’re cool.” He insisted, holding up the overalls and ignoring me. “Hold my jacket, I’m gonna try them on.” I sighed, feeling really overburdened with his big parka, and an extra bottle of wine in my bag, and I hovered outside the changing rooms looking for anything under $100.

“Hey.” One of the staff, Lola, drifted past me. I smiled at her. I only knew her vaguely through Louis, but you know. Wellington. “You look good.” I admired her dress.

“I always look good.” She laughed. “What are you doing here?” She said. “You can’t afford us.” I rolled my eyes and gestured to the changing rooms. Harrison burst out on cue and posed in the overalls.

“These look so good B!” He grinned. “Check my ass out.” He laughed, and stuck his ass in my face. I rolled my eyes. I guess they did look cool. Kind of hipstery, you know. Which he totally was.

“They suit you.” Lola said. “God where have you been, Harrison? I have like 15 t shirts you need to look at.”

“Sure.” Harrison grinned. “I’ll appraise the stock if you give me $50 off these.” God, I need his negotiation skills.

“Done.”

“Sweet.” He went back to the changing rooms and grabbed the jeans he’d discarded. “These are done for.” He said. “You got a recycling bin?”

“You can’t recycle torn up filthy beer stained jeans.” Lola sighed. “I’ll burn them.”

She marched away and returned a second later with a pile of band t-shirts that Harrison immediately started digging through. Most of them ended up on the floor but he had a small stack in his arms which he laid out across the front counter. He pointed to them carefully.

“$50’s fair.” He said, gently touching three or four of them. “People will pay up to $150 because they’re dummies.” He said. “Which is what these are worth so prce them higher…” He was pointing to two more. “And this’ll sell for like $400 on ebay so I wouldn’t even try and sell it in store, literally no one in Wellington knows what it’s worth.” Lola nodded and quickly stickered them before charging Harrison for his new dungarees. He grinned at me. “Did you want anything?” He asked. “Sorry, I get carried away.” I shook my head. To be honest this whole store was way more him than me anyway. Harrison nodded. “Check out the record store then?”

“Sure.” I guess I had time.

We walked back across the road and I followed Harrison in, and at that stage I would have been more surprised if he didn’t know the guy behind the counter I guess, and they started talking about an upcoming gig, so I left them to catch up and browsed half heartedly through the racks.

“Hey.” I glanced up. I blinked. A chorus of angels started as my eyes alighted on Ed. Cute, tall, blonde Ed who was smiling at me, his hands thrust in his pockets and his hair looking messier than usual.

“Hey.” I tried not to sound too excited. I smiled at him and he glanced down at my hands, which were flipping through the piles of records.

“Metal? Huh,you’re really getting into that.” I rolled my eyes. I guess I’d just wandered into the heavier section by accident. I raised my eyebrows at Ed.

“Inspiration.” I said. I leant over and pulled out an album, handing it to him with wide eyes, trying to hide my smile. Ed spluttered.

“Is that….?”

“It’s an ass.” I took the album off him and looked at it thoughtfully. “Type-O Neg were really ahead of their time, this is was pre- Grindr and all.” Ed laughed.

“Jesus Christ, did you know that was there?” I smiled at him.

“I’m on a worst album covers of all time buzz.” I said. “This one might be my favourite.” Ed laughed. He leant against the wall and looked at me with a smile.

“It’s so crazy I ran into you.” He said. “You are the perfect person right now.” I tried not to swoon.

“Ha ha.” I think I turned red. I’m sure I turned red. “You know…” I said as casually as possible. “I hear that all the time.” Ed laughed and ran his fingers through his perfectly floppy blonde hair. God did he watch 80s movies and like… get hairstyling tips from the villains? It really shouldn’t work, that shaggy blonde thing barely worked at the time, but it suited him.

“I got roped into doing the bar for this art gallery exhibition launch thing.” He sighed. “You’ll come right? You can explain everything to me and keep me from getting totally bored.” I pinched my thigh to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“Like… tonight?” I asked. Ed rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, little late notice. You probably have plans.” I laughed.

“Flattering, but no. I’d love to come.”

“Brilliant!” He reached in his pockets and scribbled something on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. “See you tonight Bales.” He waved at me as he left the store and my mouth slowly fell open.

“See ya.” I said quietly.

I stared at the bit of paper- a business card for the gallery. He’d written 8pm… and… his number. I had his number. A month ago he didn’t know my name and now I had his number.

“Earth to B.” I blinked and saw Harrison in front of me, his hands thrust deep in his pockets and a small smile on his face. I grinned.

“Holy shit.” I said. “Ed… he just…” I waved the card. “I have his number.” I stared at the card in total disbelief. “I’m seeing him tonight. He invited me to an exhibition launch.” I blinked. “Oh shit. I have to go home. I have to shower and find an outfit and shave…”

“Shave?” Harrison interrupted me. I glanced over at him and he was frowning, staring at the records in front of us. “Wow, you’re really expecting this to go well.” He picked at a thread in his new overalls.

“I mean my face!” I said quickly. Harrison glanced at me and smiled.

“What’s wrong with a bit of stubble?” He asked. I laughed at his expression.

“You’re alright, girls love that kind of scruffy thing you have going on.” I scratched my face. “But I’m trying to still pass as a twink.” Harrison snorted.

“Why don’t you ditch the label and just be Bailey?” I rolled my eyes.

“Because Bailey sucks, no one wants Bailey.” I glanced at the card again. “But maybe I can still work the cute twinky art student angle. Sorry Harrison, I really have to go.” He cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Ok. Ah. See ya.” Harrison sighed. He caught my arm as I turned to leave and I glanced back at him. He took a deep breath.

“Ah. For the record, people want Bailey.” I rolled my eyes.

“Spare me. It’s different for gay people.” Harrison’s eyebrows knitted together.

“Huh?” He said. “What…”

“I really gotta go. I’ll see you soon probably.”

I ran out of the store and glanced back at him as I exited. He was standing staring at the record I’d left out and as I started to head up the road I saw his head hang.

//—-//

All thoughts of my studies completely abandoned, I practically ran up the street and threw myself in the shower. I actually did end up shaving properly… I mean I really wasn’t expecting us to end up making sweet love in the back corner of a gallery but… if we DID I wanted to be perfect. I washed my hair and instantly regretted it because it dries all curly without heat styling.

“Briony!” I banged on her door, half dressed in a pair of dumb expensive Yoji Yamamoto trousers. “Help me help me help me.” Briony opened the door with a sigh.

“Are you being stabbed?” She asked.

“No I-”

“Then stop yelling!” She rolled her eyes at me. “What do you want?”

“My hair? Please?” She grumbled and let me into her room, sitting me down at her vanity.

“You’re in your twenties.” She grunted. “How have you not worked out hair styling?”

“I’m stupid.” I said. “Can we stop with the lecture and just fix me? I only have two hours.”

“Two hours?! Bales, you’re fine. Breathe.” She pulled out a hairdryer and started drying my hair, twisting it with her fingers.

“Not curly.” I pulled my head away. She frowned.

“But it’s cute curly?”

“I don’t want cute! I want sexy.” She sighed.

“Fine.” She ran her fingers through my hair. “Trust me, it’s better curly.”

“You’re straight, you have no idea what looks better.”

“I’m straight so I’m also into men. So I know what people like in men. Jesus Bales.” She sighed. “So who’s the guy? Harrison?”

“What? No? God, on that note though can you not harass him? If I fail my degree it’s on me.”

“Yeah but he wasn’t helping.” She grinned. “Did he ask you out yet?”

“What do you mean ask me out yet?” I sighed and pinched my nose. “Ugh, anyway. It’s that guy I always tell you about at Olive. Ed.”

“Ed asked you out?”

“Well… not out out… he asked if I’d keep him company at a gallery opening…” Briony paused in fixing my hair and gave me a steely look. I tried to avoid her eye. “Why do I feel a lecture coming on?” I grumbled.

“Harsh truth incoming.” She said.

“Bracing myself.” I muttered.

“You don’t even like Ed.” She said. My mouth fell open and she cut me off before I could argue. “You like the idea of Ed. The only reason you’re even pretending this is a thing is because you know he’s straight, and you know he can’t really hurt you because he’ll always be straight. You did this with Liam…”

“Liam sent me mixed messages.”

“No he did not. You like crushing on straight guys because when they reject you it’s not YOU they’re rejecting. It’s MEN they’re rejecting. And that’s safe for you. Because you know as well as I do the worst thing in the whole damn world is someone you love looking at you and saying it’s you, it’s you I don’t love, not your dick. But Bailey, if you don’t grow out of this you will never ever find happiness.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Is this about Marcel?”

“Is it?” She asked me. She whirled the chair around as she finished my hair and looked at me. “Guys like Marcel don’t come around that often.” She said quietly. “Not every guy you fuck is gonna be like that.” I smiled at her and let my hands drop to my lap.

“Why the fuck are you so emotionally stable?” I asked.

“Because I went to therapy after Marcel.” She smiled at me. “But how’s that strategy of ‘fuck him and forget him’ working out?”

“Brilliantly.” I laughed. “You haven’t dated since though. So you can’t tell me you’re handling it SOO much better.”

“Yeah I don’t trust men either.” She laughed. “But hey, we landed each other. If it happens again we can start a celibacy club.”

“Yuh, deal.” I smiled. “Ok.” I folded my arms. “I’m willing to entertain your theory. I’ll ask Ed out. If he says he’s straight I’ll do a deep dive into what may or may not be starting to look like a pattern.”

“And if he says yes I’ll shut the fuck up.”

“You’re on.”

—-

Well. He didn’t say yes or no. Ok, well, I didn’t ask. I showed up and he pulled me in for a hug and we just started chatting over the bar and it was too nice to ruin it by asking him like… actually out. He was distracted pouring drinks and flirting with everyone, because that’s kind of your job when you’re a bartender, and I watched closely but it was such mindless flirting it was hard to tell if he was gay or straight or nothing or everything. I slipped outside when he was busy because I was dying for a cigarette and to my only very mild surprise bumped into Louis. He shook his head as he saw me wave at him and folded his arms.

“No, I’m not talking to you right now.” He said and turned away from me. I sighed.

“Any chance I get a hint as to why I’m cancelled or do I have to work it out?” Louis looked haughtily over his shoulder.

“I can’t tell you because I’m under oath not to but I will tell you this. You’re an idiot, and you’re self obsessed, and you’re this close to missing out on the best thing to ever happen to you because of your dumb Ed thing.”

“My dumb Ed thing is why I’m here,” I said. “He invited me. We’ve been hanging out all night.”

“Great.” Louis sighed and turned to face me, folding his arms. “Oh that’s so cool Bales. How does it feel to waste an entire night on a straight guy?”

“Do you KNOW he’s straight?”

“I know he’s not into you.”

“Why are you being a drama queen about this? It’s not like you want to date me is it?” Louis laughed and his eyes softened for a second.

“Definitely not.” He said. “Sorry Bales.”

“Whew, I was beginning to think we were on really different pages there, Lou.” He laughed.

“Without saying too much…” He sighed. “Ed or no Ed, you could stand to be a little less self absorbed. You’re going to miss things.”

“Sage advice.” I said. “What’s going on here? Is Ed like secretly a bully? Or an old fuckbuddy? If we’re anti him for some reason I can get on board.” Louis looked at me.

“I don’t know Ed.” He said slowly. “And honestly if he invited you here that’s a good sign. And while it would be sweet and magical and beautiful if he does turn out to be the love of your life, I just…Bales you have a history of…” I sighed as he winced and stopped talking. I smiled at him, well aware the smile wasn’t reaching my eyes. Yeah, yeah. I have a history of men who just aren’t that into me. I got it.

—

So, I guess I’m lucky in that I’m not someone who ever really struggled with being gay. I knew pretty young, before I even knew what that meant. And I was juuust born in the right place at the right time for it not to really matter. I didn’t KNOW know. But… I had the biggest pseudo crush on Aladdin when I was like, 5. And that sort of kept going. I absolutely worshipped Skeletor- I know, I was a kid, I’m sure YOU had moments dreaming about Nala or Mulan, or David Bowie in Labyrinth so don’t you dare judge me, and when all my mates and I were older and watched Dragon Ball-Z I was always super into Goku, which even at the time I kind of knew wasn’t exactly the same as them being into it…

I was only about 10 when I ‘came out’. I remember we had a really really boring high school assembly about acceptance and none of it struck any chords at all but I did vaguely remember one of the teachers being more passionate than the others, and he always was so cool and had an earring and I hunted him down afterwards. I was quite bold for a ten year old, and I told him that he seemed pretty into the assembly and if he ever needed to talk I was there for him. I remember him being so kind. He didn’t laugh at me- which he should have. He asked if something in the assembly had upset me and I shrugged and said as politely as possible it was pretty boring. I said everyone knew men could be in love with men, it wasn’t a big deal. Mr Hunter nodded and closed his eyes.

“Bailey.” He said. “Do you think you’d ever be in love with a man?”

“Yeah.” I said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The man on the underwear.”

“The what?!” He must have been an absolute pro because he still didn’t laugh.

“The model they get on underwear.” I tried to explain. “You know, like on the packets.” I sighed. “I think I’m in love with him.” Mr Hunter deserves a medal, because all he did was nod.

“Mmmm. I remember.” He said with a tiny smile. “I used to like him too. But I ended up meeting a lot of men, Bailey, and they were all special and wonderful in their own ways. I’m sure you will too.” I sighed.

“Maybe one day.” I was only humouring him. He sighed.

“Have you ever spoken to Mum or Dad about this?” He asked.

“No?” I frowned at him. “Should I? Am I in trouble?”

“No, Bailey, you’re not in trouble!” He smiled. “And you don’t need to share anything with anyone. But if you feel safe to share with mum and dad they might be someone you can talk to.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “Uh. You think I should?” Mr Hunter looked at me thoughtfully.

“Well.” He said slowly. “Only if you feel comfortable.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess…”

So I wandered home and over dinner my three older sisters were arguing. My dad was trying to break it up and my Mum was at me for not eating. I sighed.

“I’m not hungry.” I said. Mum sighed.

“Ok sausage, but you’re a growing boy. You have to eat ok? We can reheat this later if you like.” I nodded and pushed my plate towards her. She pulled me into the kitchen, away from the yells of my sisters, and assisted me to wrap up dinner. “Are you ok?” She asked. “You’re quiet today.”

“Hmmm.” I said. I bit my lip. “Mr Hunter said if I was safe I should talk to you about something.” Mum glanced at my barely touched food and took a deep breath.

“Ok baby. Well.” She took me in her arms and I pressed myself tight against her. “Do you feel safe?” I nodded.

“It’s about…” I frowned. Well, I wasn’t gonna tell my mother I was marrying the underwear model. “Uhhhh….” I mumbled. I was a kid, but I wasn’t stupid. “I think it’s about me, being, uh, so like… we had an assembly and it was all about how people can love who they love and it was really boring but anyway, Mr Hunter said maybe I should talk to because I’m…” I frowned. “Like, I mean it was about me right? I think.”

“Oh sweetie.” Mum sighed and squeezed me tight. “I love you.” She said.

“So I’m not in trouble?” She laughed.

“Not for that. But you do need to eat your dinner Bailey-bee. We worry about you. But thank you for telling me, sausage, Dad and I are proud of you weather you’re gay or straight or in between. You don’t even need to decide. We’ll always love and support you.”

I didn’t know how lucky I was back then. I just decided I did want dinner after all, and when I talked about marrying boys Mum and Dad were always great, and my sisters were dicks but they would have been anyway. It will shock you to learn I didn’t marry the underwear guy…. But that did set a precedent. I’ve always gone for men I can never have.

After that it was Mr Hunter, naturally. I never propositioned him but I made sure I needed a lot of help with English, which he was good at. I think he knew, but I also think he saw a young kid just like he was once, desperately trying to make a connection. He was always kind, and he never laughed at me, and even though I wished everyday he’d fall for me he was good at keeping distance between us. He even introduced me to my next failure of a relationship, Spenser. Spenser was gay. We were about 13 so we were pretty confused about, well, literally everything. I told him I thought I loved him and he told me he loved me too. But then his Dad got involved. And he went to a different school in a different part of the country and I never saw him again.

And a year or so later Jared Williams asked if he could suck me off. Naturally I said yes. That carried me through a couple of years when word got out and he very publically denounced me as a friend and called me a fag.

And then, well, a few pretty terrible years at high school. And then I met Marcel. He was straight. I knew that. He didn’t seem that straight when he was lying on his back moaning that I was the best he’d ever had, but I never pushed it. Louis knew I was in love with him and told me I was only fucking myself over and that I was going to get hurt. I ignored him, believing that somewhere deep down Marcel really did have feelings for me. Because it had been years. And we did dates- like, in hotels usually, and even sometimes at his. And he was so soft with me. And just because I never saw him with other people didn’t mean he wasn’t in love with me. I could feel he was in love with me. Because…

How can you spend so much time with someone and never fall, not even a little? I guess I lied to myself pretty convincingly about that one. And surprise, surprise, I ended up hurt. Physically as well actually- Marcel fucked up his carefully curated timing and his girlfriend of two years (didn’t see that one coming in spite of everything) had one hell of a kick. But you know, that all turned out fine, I lost a lover but in his stead I gained a best friend and a flatmate, Briony, who never forgave herself for kicking me in the nuts. It’s why she puts up with everything.

And then… yeah. Not done yet. Liam, who I completely embarrassed myself over but he lived in Canada now thank fucking god. And Derek, whose hand I at least didn’t try to grab in a movie theatre- but I’d still said things while drunk I regretted… and then. Maybe. Yeah. Maybe Ed. It was plausible.

—

I sighed and turned to back to Lou.

“I know.” I said quietly. “Ed did invite me out though. That has to mean something, right?”

“Just maybe not what you want it to mean.” Louis took my arm. “I just want you to be ok, Bales. And I happen to know there are men out there who like you. They’re a safer bet.” I glanced at him.

“There are men out there who like me? Where are they hiding?!”

“Ugh, you’re so damn stupid.” Lou squeezed my arm. “Give you like three guesses.”

“Just tell me!”

“I promised I wouldn’t!”

“When have you ever kept a promise?”

“This is different because it can be traced back to me.” He sighed. “Just…” He widened his eyes. “Use that fucking grey sludge betwen your ears.”

“Who likes me?!” I nudged Louis’ shoulder. “You cannot just drop that and leave it there.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t a complete fucking moron.” He sighed and pulled his arm away. He’s not exactly renowned for his ability to keep a secret and could tell he was itching to tell me… something.

“Please Lou…. Please? If there’s really like a real living breathing boy out there who likes me…” I sighed dramatically. “Is he tall?” Louis rolled his eyes and gestured at me.

“You’re gonna have a really hard time if you want taller than you.” He said.

“Ed’s taller than me.”

“Alright. He’s up there yeah? Introduce us. If you’re gonna moon over him forever I need to at least know if he meets my standards.” Lou sighed as we started walking up the stairs.

“You already hate him!” I protested. “You’ll be mean.”

“I won’t.” Lou bit his lip. “I’ll give him a chance to prove he’s better than…” He cut himself off, blushing furiously red.

“Who?!”

“No one! God, just introduce me to Ed ok?”

—

“There you are!” Ed grinned as we approached him at the bar. “I thought you’d gapped it.” He wrinkled his nose. “Bailey you haven’t been smoking? You reek”

“Uh… no…” I lied. “I was outside with Lou.” I shoved Lou forward to meet him. “My friend, Louis. Lou, this is Ed, he’s working the bar, he’s my favourite customer at Olive.” Lou stuck out his hand and eyed Ed up. He looked at me and shrugged. ‘Nothing special.’ His eyes were saying. Thanks Lou, be a bit more obvious please. Ed grinned and looked between us.

“Oh hey, Louis.” He smiled. “Were you guys ah… meeting up? You can ditch me Bailey, I got it.”

“Na he’s just a friend of Rachel’s.” I leant in. “The dire Colon Mchan rip offs.” I explained.

“Sure! Pull up a chair.” Ed invited Lou to sit with us and Lou sighed.

“So Bales says you don’t really do art?” Lou said. “Which is crazy, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to someone who’s not creative? What do you do? How were you roped into this? How’d you meet Bailey?” Ed blinked and glanced at me.

“Ah… well. Like he said. I’m a regular at Olive.” He said slowly. “I dunno. We just got talking, about, you know, that thing he’s doing on insta… I’m in policy. My mum runs a gallery though so…”

“Which one?”

“He Para Toi.”

“Your mum’s Miro te Whiti!” Lou’s eyes widened. “Oh. Amazing. Introduce me, I’m very talented.” Ed laughed.

“Ok. She’ll be around somewhere.” He glanced up. “Oi mum!” He waved her over. “This is Louis. He…”