Quinn throws his head back in laughter as I bust out the running man on the dance floor. The absolute bliss that covers his face makes my heart skip a beat, and I quickly roll through my repertoire of horrible ’80s dance moves my dad used to do to embarrass me and my brother. I think he called this one the cabbage patch.

I do my best to mimic the dance move without falling flat on my face. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a decent dancer. Despite the countless high school dances and basic lessons from my mom, I’m still not able to count out a beat. The moves I’m currently trying to throw down are so far off from the music, it isn’t even funny. I’m the whitest white boy there is, born to lead a rhythmless life. But the look on Quinn’s face makes all the embarrassment and awkwardness worth it. He looks at me as if I’m the greatest thing since the cabbage patch. No, since the twist. He doesn’t care that I can’t dance to save my life. In his eyes, I’m perfect.

It’s a mighty fine feeling, if I do say so myself.

When the song ends, leading into a slower number, Quinn circles his arms around my waist and pulls me in for one last dance. It’s nowhere near closing time, but we’ve got to be getting back.

Despite how much I love spending time with Quinn, the last few weeks have taken their toll. I’ve been running on just a few hours of sleep every night, and Quinn took one look at me this evening and said we’d be calling it an early night. It took quite a bit of convincing to even get him to come out. He wanted to snuggle up and nap together for a bit before sending me back down to my place. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity though. Not when we likely have only another week or two together.

Word has been spreading around, and rumor has it that Elder Fisher and I will both be transferred elsewhere soon. Besides Andy, we haven’t had much luck in bringing in new members. I think they’re wanting to get some new blood to try to turn that around.

We’ve been ensured we’ll be allowed to be here for Andy’s baptism next weekend, so at least there’s that. I know I’ve got at least another week here with Quinn. I’m hoping they move Fisher first, letting me take over familiarizing the new Elder with the area before they ship me out and bring in someone new for him to work with. I’ve spent the last few days crossing every single possible body part, hoping that’s true.

Quinn’s hands run up and down my back as we sway, his soft voice singing the words to the song in my ear. I allow my eyes to drift shut, savoring the moment and the feel of his breath against my skin.

I am completely head over heels in love with this man.

And the thought of leaving him behind breaks me.

I’ve drafted letter after letter to my parents at the library. In them, I beg for their forgiveness. I tell them how I can’t continue my mission because I can’t bear to be separated from the only person who makes me feel whole. I tell them how sorry I am for disappointing them and how I hope, one day, they’ll be able to look back and be proud of me for being true to myself. I tell them how I still think I believe in the church, how I believe the basic teachings and principles, but I can’t agree with their view on certain things. I tell them how pure my love for Quinn is and his for me in return. How he hasn’t said the words, but I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. I tell them how much I love them and never want to hurt them, but I can’t keep living a lie and need to follow my heart.

Each and every one has been sent to my new secret email address, my courage breaking before I can enter their emails and press Send.

I haven’t told Quinn about the possibility of me leaving soon yet. Of course, he knows it’s inevitable. And he says, when the time comes, he’ll wait for me, sneaking away to come see me whenever he can. And, of course, we have the phone, so we can keep in touch. But, now that I know it’s just around the corner, it’s so much harder than I ever imagined it would be. Just the idea of not being able to see him every day creates an ache in my chest so deep, sometimes, I feel like it might drill straight through me.

I plan on letting him know tonight. After we get back to his place, I’m going to tell him everything I know. And I’m going to tell him about the letters to my parents. He needs to know I don’t want to leave him. Maybe having him there with me will give me the courage I need to finally break the news to my parents and send one of the emails.

The song is over before I’m ready for it to end, and the next thing I know, Quinn and I are saying good-bye to our friends. His tight-knit group has accepted me with open arms, a fact I was surprised by, considering Ross was always among them. I thought things would be awkward between us, him having been with Quinn before. But he pulled me aside after my second night out, explaining to me that there was nothing between the two of them, and he couldn’t be happier that Quinn and I had found each other. The two of us have been cool ever since.

I can’t decide which is better—the friendships I’ve formed with these men or the relationship I’ve developed with Judy K. Quinn dragged me over there late one night, despite my protests of not wanting anyone to know about us. I needn’t have worried though. Leaving Judy K behind might be just as hard as leaving Quinn. Maybe even harder. Quinn doesn’t bake cookies like Judy K. Stopping by Judy’s place for a bit has become a regular part of our nights together.

As we step out of the club, Quinn throws his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side and out of the chill of the air. It’s late—after midnight—but you’d never know it from the downtown streets of LA. Scores of people pass us by, most of them not even noticing our presence, as they hurry to wherever it is they’re going.

Quinn and I take our time, not wanting the evening to be over just yet. Before we turn the corner around the side of the club, I pull Quinn into the shadows, pressing him against the brick building and kissing the hell out of him.

He meets me inch for inch, his mouth greedily devouring mine and his hands running up and down my body. When he reaches my wrists, I feel his lips spread wide beneath mine.

Circling his fingers around my wrists, he suddenly spins me, forcing my back against the cool bricks and pinning my arms up at my sides. It doesn’t matter how much I try to break free, he doesn’t let up his hold. His mouth continues to torment my body, and my fingers ache to touch him. But he holds me in place, kissing every inch of available flesh while I squirm and wriggle under his touch.

I’m riding high, my mind soaring and my body thrumming, drunk on love and Quinn, when it all comes crashing down around us.

“What the fuck?” a gruff voice shouts behind us.

I’m about to tell the asshole to fuck off—apparently, being interrupted when I’m turned on brings out a side of me I didn’t know existed—when Quinn freezes. He pulls back from his pursuit on my neck, all the color draining from his face when his eyes meet mine.

“Quinn?” the man asks, his voice almost shrill in disbelief.

Quinn’s throat bobs up and down as I watch him take a deep breath and swallow it. Turning slowly, he faces the man I don’t know but who obviously knows him.

“Rick. What are you doing out tonight? I thought you were on shift at the bar.”

Rick doesn’t bother answering his question. But, now that Quinn has said his name, I know exactly who this is. Quinn told me all about him during one of our late-night talks. I know all about the homophobic jerk Quinn works for. How he’d kicked out a pair of innocent club-goers just because they had the audacity to be gay. And how he’d all but knocked out another man for the exact same reason. Quinn explained everything, including how hard it was to work for the asshole while trying to hide who he was.

I hated that for him. Hated how he felt he couldn’t be himself because of one person’s feelings. But I could relate. It’s tough being yourself in a world that doesn’t accept you for who you are.

But seeing the man now, the look of betrayal and hatred so evident on his face? I more than want Quinn to tell this asshole to go to hell. I want to tear that smug little face off and shove it down his bigoted throat.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Quinn?” He looks from Quinn, to me, up to the sign with the club’s name, and back to Quinn. “Are you really here right now? With him?”

“Rick, I can explain—” Quinn starts.

But Rick throws up a hand, cutting him off. “Save it for someone else. I know what I saw. What did I tell you, Quinn? I fucking hate liars. But do you know what’s even worse than a liar? A fucking queer. And here you are. A fucking lying queer.”

Rick looks as if he’s about to throw up, and I literally have to bite my tongue to keep from tearing him a new one. I might be a quiet, reserved person most of the time. But listening to this man berate Quinn this way, watching his face as he looks down at him, my nostrils flare, and my breathing quickens, my stomach rolling in anger as I flex and unflex my fingers, needing to move something in order to keep from decking the asshole in front of me.

Rick spits on the ground at our feet, whirling around and taking a step away. He pauses, looking back at Quinn over his shoulder. “I don’t ever want to see your face in my club again.”

Quinn exhales loudly, reaching out to grab on to Rick’s sleeve as he starts to walk again. “Rick, wait—”

Rick smacks Quinn’s hand away, his eyes wild as he whips back around. “Don’t you dare touch me. You got that? Don’t you put a fucking hand on me.” He storms off, cursing as he stomps down the street.

Quinn stares off after him, disbelief and confusion written all over his face. I place my hand on his shoulder, and when he turns to me, his face crumbles.

He leans into me, giving me all his weight, as he cries into the crook of my neck. I tightly hold onto him, taking every bit of anger and hurt he gives me.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that just happened,” he mutters over and over as I hold him.

When it gets to be too much for both of us, I lean back against the wall, sinking down to the cement sidewalk below, taking Quinn with me.

To most people, getting fired from a job is no big deal. There are thousands of jobs out there. But I know the implication this has for Quinn. He’s been looking for a new job the last few weeks, but nothing pays as well as his job at Ascent. He hated working for that asshole, but it was a necessary means to an end if he wanted to continue to pursue his dream of becoming an actor. Things just got a hell of a lot harder for him. I want to help him. I want to take it all from him and tell him everything will be okay.

But I can’t promise him that. Not when I don’t even know if I’m going to be here in a week.

When his tears finally dry and his body steadies its shaky breath, I get to my feet, pulling him up with me. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

This time, it’s me who nestles him into my side, sheltering him from the evil and darkness that is this world.