“Joey Sullivan?”

“Yep!” Joey cried.

He launched from his seat in the sparsely populated auditorium and waved his resume and headshots in the air. The casting director turned and raised an eyebrow at him. Joey meekly brought his arm back down.

“In your own time, Mr. Sullivan,” he said dryly.

Joey trotted up to the stage, handing his papers over to the P.A. sitting at the same table facing the stage as the director and casting agent. He forced himself to inhale slowly as he took center stage, then as he exhaled he spread his fingers out, releasing all the pent-up energy.

The house lights were down. He felt spurred on by the warm spots shining above him, illuminating him on the raised wooden boards. The performance atmosphere made him feel calm. He knew this was where he belonged.

The play was some Chekhov knockoff by a late nineteenth-century writer that Joey had never heard of. There was no singing, and certainly no dancing. But it was a genuine Off-Broadway production that he would get paid for. Providing he got the part.

He could certainly suffer a few weeks of dreary modernism if it meant being able to bring in some actual money.

He had this. Here, under the lights with the taste of the theatre dust on the tip of his tongue. He was home; he was safe. All the moments of uncertainty from the past several months would be worth it if he could just get this part.

He closed his eyes, brought the first few words of the monologue to the front of his mind, and began.

* * *

There was no way to know how it had really gone. Joey was cautious of getting his hopes up, but he knew he’d smashed his performance.

Deep down he knew he was better at acting, but his first love was always singing. Still, he would take any performing over nothing, and he had to admit the rush of knowing he’d done well was making him feel giddy as he walked along the streets of Manhattan.

He’d had a brainwave as he’d passed a gay bar, distinguishable with its rainbow flag hanging outside. The sight of it had left Joey feeling as comforted as he had on stage. Enough so that he’d swung on in and pushed his way to the bar to ask if they were hiring. Pouring drinks was a million miles from his dream job, but the thought of steady money alongside any gigs he could get was too tempting to pass up. Especially when he got a glimpse of the cute bartender.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have any openings at present, but Joey said he was hoping to move into the area soon. The cute guy winked and told him to apply again when he did, as they were always changing up their staff. Then he gave him a shot on the house and let him sit on one of the stools for a while, watching as the patrons came and went in the jostling crowd.

Joey enjoyed a bit of casual flirting with the bartender and several other guys. He didn’t even mind when they recognized him and asked for photos. There was no pressure for anything more; he was just able to relax and actually enjoy a little company for once. He suspected one or two of the guys were hinting they’d like to take him home, but it was early enough in the night that they were all reasonably sober. No one pushed him, and once Joey finished the beer that he’d indulged himself in buying, he kissed a few of his new friends goodbye on the cheek and headed out in the cool evening air.

It was getting late, but for the first time in weeks he felt good enough to pull his phone out and hit call on one of his most-used numbers. He didn’t even care if it went to voicemail. He felt so good he just had to share it.

“Joey!” Blake cried on the third ring.

“Hey, man,” Joey replied, grinning as he strolled down the street. Since the band had split, he had by far missed Blake and sharing their apartment together the most.

“Is that Joey?” a muffled voice came down the line. “Say hi for me!”

Blake chuckled, the sound filling Joey with even more warmth. “Elion says hi,” he said good-naturedly. Joey told him to say hi back. “So how are you, man?”

Joey could hear the concern in his voice and he felt a little guilty. But he simply hadn’t had the energy to call in recent weeks. Blake’s life was soaring high, and Joey couldn’t bear to drag it down with all his doom and gloom. But today, with his good news, he finally felt all right to talk.

“I moved back home,” he said in a rush. “But, it’s okay, I’m doing pretty good, and I actually just had an audition that I feel really great about.”

There was a slight pause. “That’s awesome buddy,” Blake said with enthusiasm. “Is that in Connecticut, or…”

Joey couldn’t help but laugh. “Hell no, I’m in NYC.” As if to prove his point, some asshole body slammed into him rather that step a foot to the right. Joey rolled his eyes but didn’t mention anything to Blake as he walked on.

Blake’s relieved laugh said it all. “So have you moved there? We’ll have to come visit.”

“Getting there,” said Joey optimistically. But he could hear Blake considering his words from down the line.

“You’re back with your parents, aren’t you?”

Joey shrugged, even though only the pedestrians on the sidewalk could see him. “It’s not so bad.” Blake’s silence was telling. “Look, like I said, I had a great audition, I’m sure I got the part. Mom’s helping me out, and I just basically got promised a bar job near the theatre to tide me over. It’s all going to work out. I’ll move soon.”

“Joey,” Blake said quietly. “I can wire you some money.”

The sympathy in his words almost threatened to spoil Joey’s great mood, but he shook it off. In fact, he allowed his best friend’s generosity to add to his happiness.

“I’m okay, I swear to you. Things are looking up. Besides,” he added cheerfully. “I need to come and visit you. Check out yours and Elion’s new pad, have a proper housewarming.”

“Hell yeah you do,” Blake agreed sincerely.

They chatted some more about the apartment. Elion had started school again and Joey talked with him a bit about his classes. All too soon he came up to his station and had to close the call.

“We’ll speak soon though, okay?” Blake asked.

Joey grinned. “You bet. Watching your shows is not the same thing as talking for real. Not by a long shot.”

Blake laughed, still a little self-conscious at being the subject of reality TV. What Joey wouldn’t give to be in a position where success doing what he loved was tedious at times. Irritating almost, like a regular job.

He kept the tone light though as he approached the barriers inside the station, saying goodbye so he could board the train home. It wasn’t so late he was at the risk of missing the last train. But it was dark and New York wasn’t always the safest place for someone like him. Someone who struggled to pass as straight even without his mild fame making it more likely people would know who he was.

He was keen to find a seat and lose himself in his music. That way he could hold on to his good mood, and not contemplate running into his family when he arrived home.

Except, when he reached inside his jacket pocket for his wallet, he found nothing there.

Panic swept through him, cold and sharp. He always kept it in the same place, but when he confirmed it definitely wasn’t there, Joey frantically yanked his backpack off and began checking all the pockets.

All his money and his MetroCard were in that wallet. He’d thought about splitting some of the cash his mom had given him, but it just hadn’t seemed safe. Better to keep it all close to his chest or in his jeans, never leaving his sight.

“No, no, no,” he moaned as he checked every single pocket again. But it was no use. He was totally fucked.

His heart was racing and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Tears blurred his eyes. He had restrained himself so severely to make his mom’s money last, almost to the point of starvation. He would have struggled to buy another ticket even if he had hidden some of the cash he had elsewhere. But as it was, he had nothing. He was stranded.

He must have been pickpocketed. He thought of the faceless guy that had slammed into him on the sidewalk. Had he relieved him of his wallet then?

People did a good job of averting their eyes as they bustled past him to make their own way towards the platforms. Joey was glad. He didn’t want anyone looking as he lost his shit. Giving up, he grabbed his bag and stormed back out on to the sidewalk. He took a moment to try and catch his breath as the world whirled by him.

He couldn’t get home. What were his options? He thought pathetically of Blake, how he and Elion were determined to have him to stay. But they were all the way in Ohio and absolutely no good to him now.

He could go back to the bar? See if he could hook up with someone for the night?

The thought immediately made him sick. It was one thing to feel a connection with someone and head home for some fun. It was quite another to seek out anyone specifically for that purpose. He knew other people did it and that was fine. But that was a step too far for him.

He checked his pockets one more time, just in case of a miracle. He did not find his absent wallet. But he did find something in the back of his jeans that he’d missed on his first frantic search.

It was a business card. The one from the homeless shelter, with Gabe’s number on the back. Joey choked out a bitter laugh. He felt pretty homeless right now.

He angrily wiped his eyes. What other choice did he have? He couldn’t call his mom; she wouldn’t be able to get out of the house, even if she was capable of driving out far enough to get him. Blake and Raiden and the other guys from the band were scattered across the country, and he didn’t know any of his other friends well enough to ask a favor like this.

Gabe had told him to call him. He probably hadn’t meant like this, but the guy liked helping people so much. Maybe he would know what to do.

Swallowing his pride, Joey typed in Gabe’s number fast so he couldn’t change his mind. Then he closed his eyes and hit call.