It had already been a day since my date with Mia, and, as I headed towards Danny’s the shop, I caught myself playing through the events in my mind once again. I was smiling. My head was clear, the roads were ghost-free, my head wasn’t a throbbing, storming mess, and I was actually smiling. And when a Taurus ran the light and I was forced to hold back for some impatient asshole’s urgency, I didn’t even care. It occurred to me that, if this was what replaying the night with Mia did for me, then maybe there really was a medicine (of sorts) for my head.

Everything had gone perfectly.

And that kiss!

I’d seen a chance, felt like it was right, and I’d taken it!

And the rest, dear audience, was fireworks!

The spark I’d felt. I could see that she had felt it too. Neither one of us had wanted to part—Heaven that I had them, Hell that it had to end; but they’d been mine for that instant, and, in it, I’d been hers—and hadn’t that just made it all the better? I drew in a deep breath, amazed at how just the memory of the kiss managed to steel my breath, and pulling the chopper into the shop’s parking lot. As much as I resented him for being right, I’d wanted to tell Danny about the date as soon as it was over, but, that late at night and me probably more tired than I felt, I knew it should wait for morning. That, and I figured he had more important things to deal with than me (assuming he wasn’t already asleep.)

As I walked into the shop, a few of our crew offered me a nod. It was one of those almost-a-full-bow nods—the sort that soldiers throw out for high-rankers and presidents who they weren’t expecting to see—and, though I hated it, I smiled and nodded back. They paused, stunned at my response, and it occurred to me that I usually had an eye roll or a scowl reserved for those nods; what they’d done out of instinct likely just as much had an understanding of the response that instinct had earned. And I’d gone and turned their whole world around in an instant by not rolling my eyes or scowling. Curious, I looked around and quickly noticed that a good number of other crew members were stealing stunned glances at me, seeming surprised by my face.

Because I was actually smiling…

It was actually pretty funny; the sort of thing I’d usually laugh at.

And so I did.

This, too, was met with confusion, but a more positive, hopeful breed of confusion. I felt like everyone who saw it felt like maybe things were turning around.

I was pretty sure they were right.

Coming around a stack of crates, Danny all-but froze in the middle of hoisting one of them to the top of a stack. The wooden crate looked heavy, but Danny was slinging around the two-hundred pound cargo like it was an empty shoebox. The moment he saw me coming, however, the crate’s weight seemed to become an issue and he nearly toppled over with it. Managing to capture the blunder and slip it into its place atop the other crates, Danny regarded me with cautious, skeptical optimism.

“What?” I asked, feigning concern, “Is there something on my face? Or…” I looked down and shook my head, “Nope, I didn’t forget to dress myself; not naked. Unless those invisible fibers that man used to make my outfit wasn’t really—”

“Hot dicks an’ overweight chicks, Chase,” Danny almost sang, “Are ya actually fuckin’ smiling? Sweet hoppin’ holy shit, m’boy, ya get laid or somethin’?”

I frowned at that, rolling my eyes at his question. The gesture actually felt wrong now. “You saw me the other day after I got laid, why you asking me now?” I pointed out.

“Well… yeah, I guess yer right. But still… ya look… fuck! I don’t know! Ya look…” He furrowed his brow and shook his head, doubtful, “Ya look… happy.”

I smirked and nodded. “Bingo!”

Danny’s brow raised, intrigued. “Well don’t leave us all in suspense, boy!”

“Alright, alright,” I nodded, leaning against a stack of crates and pausing when they didn’t topple. The moment passed, me still smiling, and I said, “So you know how I went off to that Carrion party or whatever the other night?”

“Ya mean the suicide mission I begged ya not to go off on?” Danny scolded.

“Yeah, whatever! I’m here and not dead, right? Obviously that ain’t how this story ends! Just…” I held my hands up defensively. “Just, please listen!”

“Kay,” Danny said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m listenin’.”

I took a deep breath, preparing to break the news. “I actually ended up meeting someone.”

Danny’s still-raised brow crinkled into something almost cartoony. “Someone?” he asked, “Ya mean like a girl?”

I groaned. “No, Mercury, like a guy! I decided I’ve been gay all along. OF COURSE A GIRL!”

Danny frowned at that and shook his head. “I thought ya just said this wasn’t about sex.”

I smiled and nodded. “Because it’s not about sex, Danny,” I said, using his real name for emphasis. “Holy shit, man, she’s…”

“Yes?” he pressed.

“She’s just different,” I admitted and shook my head. “I don’t know how else to describe her, I just feel something for her that’s…well, it reminds me of how I felt with Anne. I feel right again; I feel like myself!” I blushed at that, realizing that I felt like a little boy confessing to his father that he’d finally had his first kiss. I felt nervous at what Danny’s thought towards the situation and I bit my lip at the realization that I actually cared a lot about his input on this matter.

“So ya met her at the Carrion’s event?” he asked.

I nodded, “She actually helped me get out of there—helped keep me from probably getting myself killed—and… and then last night we went on a date!”

“Ya actually took a girl out on a date?” he asked, disbelieving. “Well, fancy that.”

“I know, right? I couldn’t believe it either, but…” I moaned happily and clapped my hands together. “Mercury, I just had to tell you! What with all your ball-busting and ‘need a girl to be happy’-talk I just…” I sighed and shrugged, smirking at him. “I’m surrendering, Merc. You… you were right.”

I hung my head in defeat as Danny began to cackle. The feeling of being a child came back, this time in an “I TOLD YOU SO”-sort of way, and while it was an embarrassing sort of reaction I was happy to take it based on everything that came with it. The darkness hadn’t returned since my time with Mia and I cherished how alive I’d felt since then.

“Ya do look different, Chase, that’s fer sure,” Danny grinned widely and then I could see a look of warning grow on his face. “But… but ya say she was at that event, right? Any idea what she was doin’ there?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s not what you’re probably worrying about though. I guess the Crew wanted hookers strolling around and selling at the event to ‘entertain’ the guests.”

Danny paused and stared at me for a long time. “Wait, are ya sayin’ this girl yer goin’ on about is a whore?”

I scowled at him. “She’s a prostitute, yes. So what? It’s just a job, Merc; Dad used to work with prostitutes all the time, remember? She’s still a person, Danny.”

“I’m not sayin’ she ain’t a person, an’ I ain’t concerned about her bein’ a whore either, Jace,” he lectured. “What I’m worryin’ ‘bout is what ya should be worryin’ ‘bout, too!”

“And what’s that?” I asked, crossing my own arms over my chest.

“Ya just said she was workin’ the event, Chase—workin’ a Carrion event—which means she works for the Carrion crew.”

I sighed and shrugged. “So?” I asked, “You telling me that two people can’t date just because one works at Wal-Mart and the other works at Target?”

Danny scoffed, saying, “If Wal-Mart starts fuckin’ gunning down Target employees an’ sellin’ meth to kids in li’l baggies with smiley faces at discount prices then—fuck yes!—that’s what I’m sayin’!”

“She fucking hates the Crew, Merc,” I pointed out. “It’s not like she’s going to try to hurt me. We have a real connection!”

“Of-fucking-course she hates the fucking Crew, Jason,” Danny spat. “Ya think a whore workin’ the streets for them is living a high life? Fuck no, man; do ya know how they treat their sex workers, man?”

Admittedly I didn’t. Realizing this, I looked down, ashamed.

“An’ don’t take this the wrong way, but ya jumped the gun thinkin’ I was worried ‘bout yer ass. Boy, if I thought—if any of us thought—that ya couldn’t cut it an’ hold yer own then ya wouldn’t be where ya’re, got me? But when the fuckin’ leader of the Crows starts trollipin’ around with one of the Crew’s whores they’re likely to put a bullet in ‘er just so’s they know ya ain’t gettin’ no free pussy off them. Hell, they’d do it jus’ knowin’ it’d piss ya off!”

I looked away, not proud of the fact that I was nearly crying. “So are you telling me to break it off?” I demanded, pissed off at Danny for actually making a point and pissed at myself for not considering it.

Danny sighed heavily and leaned his head back, thinking. “It’sa tough place ya gone an’ put yerself in,” he said, rubbing his chin. After a long, tense moment, he said, “Ya know… there was this frilly-collared fag by the name o’ Billy Shakes-a-spear—fruity fuck wrote all sorts of stage shows an’ whatnot. All basically porno and bloody, Jerry Springer-level drama bullshit. I’m sure ya’d just get a kick outta all of it.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “I’ve heard of William Shakespeare, Merc,” I informed him. “Get to the fucking point.”

“Point’s this:” he said, glaring at me, “that frilly fuckin’ fag scribbled a li’l ditty not unlike this situation ye’re in now. Couple o’ punk-fuck kids who thought they’d dodge around together even though their folks was basically wagin’ World War Three on one ‘nother.”

I stared, not up to trying to explain all that was wrong with what he’d just said.

“An’ they think that shit don’t matter none. Not to them. Why? ‘Cause—fuck all!—they were in love. Well guess what, Jason, shit didn’t work out fer him ‘n her, in the end. Big spoiler, I know, but this exact sort of shit got those kids dead! An’ this shit could very well get you dead too! It’ll almost certainly get her dead! So, sure, I’m happy that ya finally found a girl who helped turn yer tailspin around and helped ya pull outta that nose-dive ya was in, but why in the fuckin’ hell did ya have to go an’ do it with a Carrion whore?”

I frowned, losing it at the last part and struggled to stay standing. I didn’t like that Danny was right, I didn’t like that Mia and I were likely to fail from the start. I clenched my eyes shut, knowing the truth and still not wanting to end this; still not wanting to stop the feeling I’d had ever since meeting her.

Hell, just the possibility of it all was letting that familiar darkness thrive and grow back into being, just waiting to get strong enough to swallow me again.

And would I be able to make it out again if it did?

Not fucking likely.

“No,” I said. I said it more to the darkness—outright commanding it to stay back—but, when I saw that Danny had heard it and was assuming I’d been talking to him, I rolled with it. “I know all about Romeo and Juliet, Merc,” I said, nodding, “and I know that we’re taking a big risk. But I… I’m not going to let this go; I’m not going to let her go. She might be a whore, and she might work for the Crew, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. I need this, Danny… I need it to work.”

He watched me, his eyes moving around me, seeming to pick up each little nuance that had changed in me. Slowly, as he finished his scan, he sighed, his large body sagging with resignation. “Ah, hell, kid,” he groaned, nodding. “Alright. Okay. If this is what ya need then… then maybe ya can prove that story wrong, y’know? Really stick it to that Shakes-a-spear fag.”

I frowned, feeling ever worse at Danny’s sudden change in encouragement. I knew he was only doing it to try and help. I didn’t realize how open I’d become to Danny and a part of me screamed to hide it all. To pretend that nothing was wrong, to pretend that things weren’t pure chaos in my head.

“Aw’right,” Danny finally said after the silence had gone on too long for his liking. “Be safe, kid. And be sure to introduce me to ‘er soon as ya get the chance. I gotta give the final appraisal and make sure she’s got all the necessary warnings about dealin’ with a beast like ya.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, hoping he didn’t notice my blush. “My confidence swells,” I said with a groan.

“I’m guessin’ that’s yer cock, boy. An’, speakin’ o’ which, make sure ye’re washin’ yerself. Whores face dirty dicks too much to be getting’ stink-nutted by men who are supposed to be lovin’ them.”

I sneered at his words, but nodded. “Noted.”

Danny nodded back, his face caught somewhere between pride and concern. Finally, he said, “Gotta say, if she’s got yer attention this bad, she must be one hell of a woman.”

“She really is,” I admitted, unable to keep myself from smiling. Despite this, I still found myself asking, “Do you think this is a bad idea? Really?”

Danny paused, thought, and then shrugged again. I noticed with some neutral intrigue that this was a very shrug-laden conversation when I’d been hoping for a more pat-on-the-back, “let’s pass out the cigars!”-sort of conversation. “Ye’re probably askin’ the wrong fag about what’s a good idea an’ what’s not. Honestly, I don’t believe in good ideas; in the world of ideas there’s shit and there’s decent. Most ideas are shit, plain an’ simple. Almost everything in life falls apart, breaks down, or decays—not much we can do ‘bout that—an’ most ideas function to slow or stop that. Can’t be done—makes ‘em shit ideas. Then there’s the decent ideas, the ones that say, ‘shit’s gonna go bad, so let’s try to make the most of it.’” He nodded to himself, sighed, and—you guessed it—shrugged at his own words. “So ye’re gonna go for it? Cool! I mean, I guess I ain’t gonna stop ya—likely no one’d be able to, anyway—an’ ya seem to be figurin’ the worst already, right? If yer already expectin’ to hit rock bottom than it’s not like yer gonna be disappointed, right? An’ who knows? Maybe y’all will find exactly what ya need with each other. After all, if ya don’t hit rock bottom then all ya gots left is flying.”

I smiled at that and nodded, appreciating Danny’s side on this. “Thanks, Mercury,” I said, almost wanting to hug him but not sure where that would take things between us. This, however, had less to do with his sexuality and more to do with the fact that I was supposed to be his boss.

Speaking of which…

“Don’t mention it,” he said, waving off my words dismissively before turning to another stack of crates. “Now, come on. We got business ‘ta deal with and I actually need your ass here for once to do it.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing better to do…” I laughed. Then, thinking once again about Mia and, yes, smiling from it, I added, “Yet.”