Soaring through the skies, Barry felt himself surrender to the freedom of flight. The heavy burdens of everyday life had been left squarely on the ground, where they belonged; it was near impossible to focus on flying when he was dwelling on all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’ that burrowed into his head. He might as well have been weightless in the helicopter with how he felt on every test run. He concentrated on the task at hand with the laser-focused vision that was asked of him. Each time he was asked to turn the blinders on, he happily complied. It seemed to get easier with each go.

Barry described the feeling of it all as ‘controlled chaos’. It was an old, familiar feeling that made him both comfortable and confident at the same time, a bit like wearing a lucky t-shirt. Whenever he was questioned about this controlled chaos, the best way he could put it was like having a rampaging storm trapped in the claustrophobic confines of a mason jar. He could see everything that was going on in the jar, from what was being destroyed, to where it was all going. The storm would ravage whatever got in its way and Barry could be just far away enough not to be personally affected by it.

It gave him a rush. More importantly, it gave him purpose. The worst the storm could do was kill him and if that was all that was at stake, he felt more inclined to go up against it. His control of the situation gave him a sense of security. He could do no wrong if he knew what the storm would do and how to handle it. There was always just enough drive to be constantly moving and thinking, never having to stop, but he still had back-ups if things went wrong. It was the sweetest rush that would send him pounding through the days. The fast-paced job, followed by the sweet breather of silence, was what he hoped for on a weekly basis.

He was not much of a movie buff, let alone a critic, or even someone who analyzed those sorts of things, but he remembered hearing about the structure of stories. How they start calm, followed by high action, then a moment of levity or peace to give the viewer a moment to breathe. Sometimes those calm moments really let those intense moments stand out and stay fresh in the viewer’s mind. While he couldn’t explain whether the length of a scene was too long, or even care if it was, something about that fact made sense to him.

At first it was just that: high-action followed by light scenes of levity. He would work for a couple days at the base and test the helicopters, train his body, study the wind currents, then follow it with the sweet calm of being at home. The two different worlds balanced each other out, even made him look forward to switching from one to the other. Then, in the past month, it all shifted. After the incident with his parents, the control of the situation was ripped from his hands. His stomach felt queasy when he felt the tension rise at home and the knots in his stomach had only grown tighter ever since. All of a sudden, the high action scenes were at home where the serene peace of his loving relationship should have been.

He admitted to himself that not much happened at home nowadays. It was nearly identical to what it had been before. Just walking through that front door and seeing Xanathen’s face sent his heart pounding frantically, and sent a feeling of anxiety rushing through him. A simple dinner felt like the choppy winds, constantly changing direction and swallowing any words that were spoken, making them sound like a muddled droning noise. The very second Xanathen opened his mouth Barry felt his energy draining away and he just wanted to sleep until his next shift.

At work, his face would glow when he thought about his special dragon. Just picturing him, his sturdy shoulders, sculpted chest, and of course those twinkling gold eyes, made Barry smile and long to go home to him. He would think back to the excursions around town they had, how much he would laugh at the innocent mistakes Xanathen made, or the intense passionate embraces he’d find himself in the moment they got back home. He held all those little things close to his heart and looked back on them fondly. They were too important to toss out. He sighed as he thought about it. Those feelings crashed hard as soon as he got home and he’d be back to being exhausted.

He felt things would get better. They had to. In the grand scheme of things, this was small and nothing to worry about. If there was anything he had gained from being the designated single guy for so long, it was that these things had a way of clearing themselves up eventually and that having time alone was the key. He just needed that time to clear his head, that was all. Xanathen would understand.

So he confined himself to the base for even longer, volunteering to work more hours and train even harder. He forced his nose against the grindstone for longer not to get ahead in the field, or even to show his fellow pilots how it was done, but to immerse himself in that peaceful interlude after the seemingly hectic action of home. For the time being, he considered the base his home where there was sound logic to what people did. The apartment was some dreary cave filled with jaw-dropping levels of confusion that would cause all who entered to spiral into a never-ending cacophony of madness.

Barry walked into the pilot’s lounge, where he was greeted with the sound of guffaws and gasps. At one of the tables were Roger and Mike, two fellow pilots, with their eyes glued to the screen of a phone and hands clamping over their mouths in shock.

“Holy shit, that’s awesome!” Roger said.

“I know, right? It looks so real.” Mike said.

“It’s gotta be. Look at that! It doesn’t look edited.”

“Pyrotechnics maybe. Maybe they’re one of those special effects artists?”

“Damn, that’s cool. I wish I could do that, even if it is edited.”

“Hey, whatcha watching?” Barry asked as he entered the break room.

Two of his fellow pilots looked up from the small smartphone directly at him, faces lit up with an almost childlike wonder.

“Dude, Zombie, have you seen this guy?” one of them asked.

Barry cringed a little at the nickname “Zombie.” Coming back from MIA was something of a legend around the base. As much as he hated the nickname, protesting the stupid thing would make it stick even harder.

He sauntered over to their table with barely an ounce of curiosity. He was familiar with the videos they’d share with him. It was almost a routine at this point. They’d find something “amazing” or “hilarious” on the internet, giggle about it in the breakroom, insist Barry should see it and would roar like idiots at the poorly timed nut-shot or some reference to some joke Barry wasn’t clued in on. They’d cackle for a good five minutes and Barry died a little inside every time.

He rolled his eyes and looked over their shoulders down at the screen in Roger’s hands as he held a finger over the “replay” button. “Probably not.” Barry said. “You know I don’t rummage through trash like you guys.”

“Seriously, this is awesome.” Roger insisted, barely containing his excitement.

In the video there was some kid, probably younger than him. Apparently looking up people’s noses was the new viral trend. Barry could barely pay attention to whatever the hell the kid was even saying.

But his eyes widened as the camera pulled away and focused on the dark figure in the center of the screen. He leaned in closer and he had to blink to clear his eyes.

On some dusty baseball field stood Xanathen, proudly displaying his abs and with his wide white grin gleaming from cheek to cheek.

Xanathen held a baseball bat tightly in his hands as he looked towards the camera with a smirk, then looked towards the pitcher. A baseball came flying towards him and he wound up his sturdy arms to swing at the ball. The bat tore through the air and a line of fire ignited and spread from the handle to the tip. Both the ball and bat were incinerated on contact, followed by a loud chorus of “whoas” in the background. Xanathen nodded towards the camera and flashed another grin while the camera turned back to the original person, all with exclaims of “Holy shit, did you see that?." Barry’s heart pounded as the video went into a slow motion replay of the flaming bat hitting the ball, showing in precise detail the ball bursting into white flame, a spray of black ashes flying in all directions and the blackened bat crumbling on impact.

Roger and Mike both ooh’d and ahh’d, despite obviously having seen it before. The two smiled at him as they held the phone out to him with insistence. Barry stood motionless.

“Speechless? I know. I was too.” Mike said.

“It’s probably just special effects. Maybe they used some kind of fuel or something? I’dunno, I’m not a magician or whatever this guy is.” Roger replied as he shook his head, pushing the phone towards Barry again. “There’s more videos of this guy, too. Seriously, they’re awesome.”

Barry’s finger trembled as he looked down at the screen where a wide array of videos flashed, all centered on Xanathen in that dusty field. He pressed play on another video and sure enough there was Xanathen standing in the middle of the field, delightfully flexing his muscles and eyeing the camera with confidence.

“Do that trick for us again!” someone, probably the person behind the camera, shouted.

Xanathen nodded and jumped in mid-air, executing a perfect front flip. As he spiraled in the air an aura of purple radiated from his body surrounded by waves of indigo. When his feet hit the ground the light around him popped like a burst bubble and the earth beneath him shook with a thunderous boom. He flexed again, making his muscles pulse for the camera, without breaking eye contact with the viewer.

“I am The Dragon!” he shouted victoriously, kneeling on one leg and extending his arm out towards the sky, his other arm bent like he was going to shoot an arrow.

Barry instinctively hit the next video and it was taken in the same place. Xanathen still held center-screen and another baseball bat. He swung at the ball as it was pitched and it went screaming out of the field and into the stratosphere, at least that’s what it looked like. Again there was an array of cheers and Xanathen showboating for the camera with his declaration of “I am The Dragon!”

In the next video, Xanathen was still in the field as someone threw a metal bat at him and he headbutted it clear out of the field. College kids went scurrying to find it. He was concussed as he turned to the camera and shouted “I am the Dragon!”

Next video: Xanathen piled into a car with several of the familiar faces from the field. By the look of the surroundings, Barry could tell it was a drive-through. With some choppy editing it skipped to Xanathen shoveling a burger dripping with all the trimmings into his mouth. He tilted his head back and widened his jaw as the food combusted into a flare of blue light, that shot right from his mouth, before it crumbled into tiny pieces, sliding down his throat. The cast all cheered and laughed while he turned to the camera with a smug nod.

The rest of the videos all bore the same formula: Xanathen displaying feats of strength or odd talents and tricks with a blend of otherworldly magic, all followed by a grin and his declaration of “I am The Dragon!”

Barry’s hands gripped Roger’s phone tightly as he nearly pressed his face against the screen, tearing through the information on the videos. They were all fairly recent, including some from today. Despite their recent uploads they had already built up quite a following. His eyes nervously scrolled through the comments, reading each one closely. Aside from the off-topic political arguments, the comments had developed a large conglomeration of “So cool!” ‘Whoa, how does he do that?” “I AM THE DRAGON.”

All the color drained from Barry’s face trickling down to the floor as he handed the phone back. Roger and Mike waved hands in front of him, assuring him it was just editing and nothing to really be afraid of, but their words fell on deaf ears. The screaming maw of chaos just stretched even wider and the maddening drumbeat of his heart pounded loudly and furiously in his chest. He could feel himself drifting from his body and being pulled into the constant barrage of nonsense. Barry’s period of levity had come to a screeching halt.

Barry’s hands gripped tight to the steering wheel as he screeched onto the road and high-tailed his way towards the baseball field. His mind raced as he tried in vain to think of just what he could possibly say to Xanathen, if anything at all. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish. Still, something compelled him to find that field and at least try to find Xanathen. If he could find him, he might at least get a firmer grasp on the situation.

He pulled into the parking lot surrounded by grassy fields and as he stepped out of the car his ears were bombarded with the sound of a clamoring crowd. He followed the sound to the source where sure enough a gathering of people were clutching on to the chainlink fence surrounding the field. Barry drew closer to investigate the source of excitement, squeezing his way past several people to press his nose against the metal.

Xanathen stood high on top of the framing with his hands extended towards the sky, looking down at the small crowd below with a confident sneer. His thick chest had puffed out with pride as the crowd cried out and cheered on ‘The Dragon’. He seemed to grow more satisfied with each cheer that came his way and was more than content to let them chant his title forever. Down below were several people with cameras extended, luring him down from on high. Xanathen’s knees bent and he launched himself from the framing above, springing wildly, right out to the center of the field. He landed on the ground palms down and stuck the landing with a burst of white light that caused the ground beneath him to quiver and shake. He stood perfectly still until the ground had settled back to normal and the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers. He got to his feet and addressed his adoring public shouting out his catchphrase: “I AM THE DRAGON!”

The ones with their phones, who Barry recognized as having been in several of the other videos, all circled him and cheered him on the most, while those who had been watching from outside filed onto the field to bombard him with questions. Barry entered with them, as he observed the situation.

“How did you do that?” someone asked.

“Trade secret.” Deryl said, shaking his head as he brushed someone away from Xanathen.

“How long have you been able do that?” another person asked.

“I was born great,” Xanathen answered with a gleaming grin.

“What does ‘I am the dragon’ mean?”

“It means I’m the dragon,” Xanathen replied simply.

The crowd all laughed at his frankness and continued their impromptu interview.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” a girl, the pitcher from the original video, asked dreamily.

Xanathen stopped and tilted his head, flexing his muscles in a variety of poses so everyone could see the perfection of his toned body. “I do not. I do have a boyfriend, though. Feel free to keep calling me hot. That’s alright from anyone.”

The crowd continued to chew on his answers. That wasn’t the answer they had expected but the way they were being brushed away it seemed clear they wouldn’t get any more answers. Instead, they opted to move out of the way. The show was over, at least for now. The passersby petered out until only Barry remained, eyeing Xanathen with a stern look engraved on his face.

Xanathen, however, met the sudden surprise of him turning up with unbounded enthusiasm. His golden eyes twinkled with delight as he saw Barry and moved closer.

“Hi Barry! I didn’t think you’d be here!” Xanathen said, extending his arms as he raced towards his blond.

Barry’s expression was cold and unimpressed as he wrestled off any attempts at affection, “I could say the same to you.”

“I told you I could find the baseball field.” the dragon replied softly. His excitement had immediately been extinguished. Barry glowered in silence as Xanathen slowly came to the realization that Barry was not here to shower him with praise. “Oh. What did you want to talk about?”

“I just think we should talk. Alone.”

His eyes darted to the rest of the group who quickly got the message. They began to approach him but as his eyes intensely flashed to them they stopped in their tracks and said they’d meet up at Deryl's car, before scampering away. The field was empty, all except for Barry and Xanathen.

“So this is what you’ve been doing?” Barry asked.

“Yes! Isn’t it great? People love me!” Xanathen exclaimed. Barry’s response was sullen and silent. “Oh, I’m not allowed to have that now?”

“No, that’s not what I’m mad about. Xanathen, you can’t go showing off your powers like that!”

“But I have been doing it, and so far your so-called government hasn’t shot me once. I get praised for the things I can do. Deryl even says with more videos we can try to get something called monetization, which I assume is a good thing.”

“Xanathen, you have to be more discreet than that. ‘The Dragon’? Really? People are already asking questions.”

“I don’t have to answer them if I don’t want to.”

“It’s suspicious.”

“Only to you, apparently. Everyone else is just fine with it.” Xanathen pressed, then smiled as he wrapped his arms around Barry and placed his head on top of Barry’s. “You don’t need to be jealous. I love you, Barry.”

“This isn’t about jealousy!” Barry said as he pulled out of the embrace. “I’m just looking out for you, and you won’t even humor me!”

“I have humored you. That was me staying alone in the apartment for days at a time. I don’t want to go back to that.” Xanathen’s deep voice rumbled.

“You know what? Fine! Go ahead! Keep doing whatever you want!” Barry cried. “You obviously know what you’re doing. Have fun!”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Xanathen said.

“And I’m not doing what I do to hurt you.” Barry’s voice lowered with a sympathetic tone. “I just…I…I need to stop worrying.”

“Thank you.”

“Ready to go home then?”

“Not just yet. I’d like to continue talking to my friends. You can join us if you’d like.”

“No. No thanks. I’m not in the mood. Have fun.”

Xanathen pecked Barry on the lips softly with a pleasant smile before waving goodbye to go join his friends, thanking him again for his forgiveness.

Barry writhed furiously as he stood there, watching Xanathen race across the field to join the group. He felt his anger boil hotter and hotter until suddenly he felt nothing. He felt a calm emptiness as he stood in the field with the sun on his back. There was nothing more he could do. As much as he pleaded or even tried to talk sense into him, Xanathen would do whatever he wanted in the end. There was no controlling the storm, and while all the panic and worries screamed in a whirling vortex inside his mind, there was a strange calmness in the middle of it all with the realization that this wasn’t something he could control.

There was nothing he could do. This was strictly Xanathen’s problem and Xanathen alone would have to deal with it. If he wanted to learn the hard way, that would be his lesson to learn. In the center of it all there was a serene peace, one of disappointment and self-righteousness.

Barry could only find it in himself to go back home. What else could he do? There was no more to say. With heavy footsteps he began to trudge back to the parking lot, letting the earth crunch beneath his feet. He had a bit of a grumble as he thought about going home to his apartment. If he went home alone he would tear himself to pieces with how empty it felt. If he went home with Xanathen, there would just be a bitter fight that he didn’t feel like having. He could delay his trip home for a few hours. If Xanathen was going to try new things, then why shouldn’t he try to have some fun himself?

I’ll try that bar I always pass by. That’ll be fun, he thought to himself assuredly as he shut the car door behind him. He gave one last look to where Xanathen and his friends were laughing loudly in the parking lot, as they planned whatever their next ‘big stunt’ was. Barry shook his head and drove away.

The Idle Glass was filled with anonymous faces drifting between the bars and the booths as the music played filling lulls in the awkward conversations between strangers. The dim lighting barely gave out much light at all, letting people mask themselves in a veil of mystery for a few hours. People wandered in with the desperate hope of being someone that they weren’t for a little while, in the hope of feeling some small shred of joy or maybe a connection with another human being.

Barry let the leather squeak as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat while watching the people around him. Something about it all seemed so odd and unnatural. A heavy feeling of disappointment stuck with him even more as he continued to watch with a growing feeling of dread; was he just as bad as these people?

“Not your scene, eh?” a voice made its way through the muffled pop music.

A stranger slid his way into the other side of the booth without so much as a second thought. The pale lights glinted off a pair of murky sunglasses that sat perched on top of tufts of chestnut waves. The stranger’s round eyes gave off a warm feeling accentuated only by a small, but pleasant, smile on his thin lips.

“That obvious, huh? No, not really.” Barry said as he took another swig of his drink.

“I could tell. Probably more from the S&M circuit, I’m guessing.” His soft goatee curled upwards with his impish grin as Barry did everything in his power not to spit out his drink. “Relax, man, it wasn’t that funny.”

“Ah, sorry, just—”

“Took you by surprise. I know, I know.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You look like you have a ‘B’ name.”

“It’s Barry,” Barry replied with a bit of awe to his voice.

“Ha, I knew it! I’m Guy,” Guy replied and interrupted before Barry could say anything, “And yeah, I know: most default name ever. ‘Look at that guy over there. That guy did it. I’m just looking for a decent guy.’ Apparently I’m everywhere, doing everything, and everyone wants me.”

“I dunno, I’ve never met a Guy.”

“What, were you raised in a convent?” There was a twinkle in Guy’s silvery gray eyes at the sound of his own joke.

“I meant I’ve never met anyone named that. I’m pretty sure ‘Bob’ is more of a default name,” Barry reassured.

“That or ‘Mike’. ‘Matt’. Super standard. Pretty sure there’s at least 10 Matts in here.”

“With a light sprinkling of Ryans,” Barry added.

“Eugh, there’s Ryans in here? Fuck, party’s over.”

Barry let out a guffaw which made him cover his mouth. He continued to chuckle along with Guy as he ordered another round of drinks for the two of them. The duo drank their drinks while Barry continued to look him over. His wavy hair reached past his shoulders and brushed against a brown vest that was draped over his narrow frame. His eyes were wild and expressive, sparking with the intrigue of someone who has seen more stories unfold than have ever been told to him. His thin lips fluctuated expressively above his pointed jawline. He seemed more than comfortable striking up conversations with total strangers.

“So. Have you seen those dragon guy videos? What a riot, right?” Guy asked after taking another sip and letting his head bob along to the beat of the music.

Barry’s attention turned to his drink, a sour expression forming on his face. Just hearing about the videos made his blood boil. He had come to this bar to get away from all that. If it had gone viral already, he wasn’t going to be escaping it for quite some time. “They’re not bad. Got some impressive stunts. Editing isn't bad either. Not sure why that’s the big buzz right now, though. Kinda overrated. People have been doing stunts like that for hundreds of years, so it’s seriously not as huge a deal as people are making it out to be.”

He swirled his drink around his glass as his eyes focused on the swirling amber liquid. If only everyone found it overrated, then Xanathen wouldn’t be trending all over the world.

“Hey, what’s up, man? Lemme guess. You’re in love with the guy?” Guy asked.

Barry froze in his seat and sat as motionless as a statue. His mind screeched in a panicked frenzy, wondering how he, or anybody, could just guess something like that? Was he joking again? His mind raced at a million thoughts a second as he stared uncomfortably at the man opposite him.

“Wow, I was just kidding. Didn’t think I’d be right,” Guy chortled. “Y’wanna talk about it?”

“I’dunno, I—”

“Y’don’t think I’ll understand?” he finished his sentence. Barry gave a surprised, awestruck nod. Guy smiled back at him. “Listen. Been there, done that, card-carrying member of the Dude-Lover association myself.”

“…Really?” Barry asked, stunned.

“I could prove it if you wanted.” Guy replied with a wink. “But seriously, lay it on me.”

A small wave of relief flowed through Barry as he heard Guy say that. Since he had gotten home he hadn’t talked to a single gay person besides Xanathen, or at least anyone who was open about it. There was something so liberating about finding someone else who had boyfriend troubles, and finding someone that wouldn’t judge him for his lifestyle. Still, there were certain things Barry had to keep out of the conversation.

“So…the Dragon guy is my…my boyfriend. We met almost a year ago, and I brought him here to live with me,” Barry started simply, pruning so many details from the story. “Agh, sorry. You don’t wanna hear this stuff.”

“You’re doing fine, I’m not bored.”

“Long story short, I don’t like him making those videos. I didn’t know about it until today. I work for the Coast Guard. I work several days straight and I find out he’s doing stupid shit like this? He doesn’t listen to what I say. It’s always about him! He’s gonna hurt himself or expose himself—”

“Expose himself?”

Shit, Barry thought. “Yeah. Expose himself. I mean, what if he gets me in one of those videos? And calls me his boyfriend? Or kisses me? Or—”

“Ohh, I see. Well, I doubt he’d do something like that without your permission, right?”

“Bullshit. He forced me to talk to my parents and then forced me to come out before I was ready!”

“Wow.” Guy held the ‘wow’ on a long ‘o’ in surprise as he shook his head. “That’s fucked up.”

Barry moaned, burying his face in his hands as it burned with mortifying regret.

“Whoa, that’s wild! Sorry about that, man.”

“They walked out, they won’t return my calls…they hate me. My parents want nothing more to do with me, and he doesn’t even see that there’s anything wrong with what he did!” Barry felt his eyes burn with welling tears. He held them back but the sting of all of this still hurt a great deal.

The two sat quietly in the booth under the heavy subject that loomed over them ominously. Barry seemed content to let it just hang there. He brought it out so it may as well stay there. Guy did no such thing, however. His eyes glowed compassionately as he looked at Barry.

“Shit. That really sucks. I’m sorry,” Guy said softly, keeping his eyes locked on Barry’s. “Could always be worse though. I know, cliché as hell. But wanna know how I had to come out?”

Barry quietly nodded. Anything was better than having to talk right now. There was something mildly therapeutic about casually talking to someone else who was gay. He seemed to know the ropes, or at least be more comfortable with it.

“So I used to work in this office. Data entry, that sorta thing. I hadn’t really come out yet. There was this one chick who was super into me, like crazy into me. I’d reported her a couple times for constantly trying to grab my ass, but ‘women can’t harass.’ That old chestnut? Bullshit. Anyway, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Meanwhile I made a connection with this guy there, we got along real well and decided to hook up. Turns out crazy coworker was not only stalking me, but had a damn Polaroid. So she’s thinking if she can’t have me, no one can. Photocopies that shit and smears it all around the office. I couldn’t prove it was her, everyone knows we’re gay now, but she still kept chasing me for a while. On the bright side: it was a great picture.”

“Jesus, that’s nuts. How’d…How’d everyone react?”

“Surprisingly, they were very supportive. More outraged that someone would post pictures of us like that. Some guys thought I did it, but for real, why would I post pictures of myself like that?”

“What about your parents?”

“They didn’t work there,” he snickered. “Nah, I know what you mean. My family and I have a strained relationship. Like they’re there for me, I guess, but they also couldn’t give a rat’s ass what I do.”

“Not sure if that’s better or worse.”

“Neither, really. Can’t go around comparing people's problems on a scale. Otherwise only a few problems will matter.”

“—I’d never really thought of it like that.”

“Eh. It’s not amazing. I’ve just had a lot of time to think. But that sucks, what happened. Sounds like a goof. I doubt he’s doing it to hurt you, though. Just…young? Different background? All that stuff.”

“You’re right. I just wish this was easier sometimes.”

“All life struggles gets easier with time. But only if you let them.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’dunno. Read it off a fortune cookie once, kinda hoping it’d be useful.”

Barry laughed as Guy sat quietly investigating the bar with curious eyes, until he thought of something else to talk about. The two talked for hours until the bar closed, although they became so enraptured by their conversation they felt their discussion was nowhere near drawing to a close. The two stood out in the parking lot next to Barry’s car.

Barry looked at Guy and felt a tingling warmth wash through him. He felt oddly comfortable around this man. Something about him felt like he had known him all his life. He hadn’t bared his soul like that in so long and he was glad and a little relieved that he had made the trip out here. The conversation flowed so naturally he didn’t want it to end. He felt a kind of comfort around him that he hadn’t felt in some time.

Guy held out a slip of paper with his phone number on it. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a bar for a while. Gimmie a call sometime.”

“What? But I have a boyfriend, I—”

“Whoa. Whoa. Easy.” Guy leaned against Barry’s car as he slightly tilted his head, “You’re cute. I’m flattered. But just for fun, someone to talk to. Your boyfriend has friends now. Why can’t you?”

“You know what? You’re right.” Barry agreed as he placed the number in his pocket. “I’ll uh…”

Barry felt himself freeze as he made eye contact again and he watched as Guy’s thin lips lifted into a smile. All of a sudden he couldn’t find any words. All he felt he could do was to write out his number on the closest piece of paper and hand it over with shaking hands.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Guy said as he put the scrap away for safekeeping.

His sharp black boots clomped across the pavement as he strolled lazily to his car. With a quick wave he piled into his old car and drove away.