Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CURTIS
I need fucking air because that club is suffocating me. Or Finn is. Probably both.
I should’ve taken the emergency exit by the restrooms and gone out into the alley because as I make my way through the overstimulating flashing lights and loud, thumping base, I start hyperventilating.
My vision blurs, my head spins, and all that’s running through my mind is I need out, I need out, I need out.
An arm wraps around my shoulders, and I almost push it away because I think it’s Finn. He needs to not touch me right now.
Or ever again.
The plan tonight was to stay as far away as possible from him, but after a few drinks, that was never going to happen. Because my body comes alive when I’m next to him. Touching him.
Then he had to go and ruin everything.
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” The arm around me isn’t Finn’s. It’s David’s.
I somewhat relax, knowing it’s him. My rock as a child. We might have grown up to be two completely different people, and sure, while he was living in Chicago, we weren’t as close as we used to be, but having him home hasn’t only been good for Beth. It’s been good for me too.
David makes the burden of my life feel not so difficult.
“Need. Air,” I choke out.
“Come on.” He leads me to the exit at the front of the building.
The street is bustling with nightlife, drunken people staggering from bar to bar. Loud laughter comes from the line of people waiting to get in, but it all rings in my ears.
David guides me to where he gently rests my ass against the wall.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening? Last I saw you, you were getting way too friendly with Mel’s brother on the dance floor for a guy who says they’re seeing someone.
Though you’re yet to provide proof of this someone, so I’m thinking it’s all a goddamn lie. ”
Now that I’m outside, where it’s less foggy and my brain has had enough oxygen to function, I don’t want to drag David into my drama. Not tonight. This is supposed to be his bachelor party.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m all good now. The lights were too flashy. I might have overreacted.” That would maybe be more convincing if it didn’t sound like I was about to cry while saying it.
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me. Tell me what’s up.”
“It’s your bachelor party. You got me outside, so now you can go back in there and enjoy yourself. I’m fine. Just needed air.”
David’s face loses its supportive big-brother concern and turns to anger in a second flat. Then he steps up to me and gets right in my face. “Cut. The. Bullshit.”
“I’m not bullshitting!”
The anger is now replaced with something way worse. Disappointment.
David steps back from me. “I’ve known you my whole life. I know when you’re hurting, when you’re being self-destructive, and even though I’ve seen you keep people at arm’s length and push others away, I never thought you’d do it to me.”
Fuck. Fucking, fuck, fuck.
David keeps going. “I thought things were becoming strained between us because of Mom, because I’d spent so long away from home, but the more time that goes on, the weirder you’re acting around me, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.”
“Wait …” I stand up straighter, the cloud of uncertainty surrounding me and Finn evaporating to reveal a bigger storm cloud behind it labeled David.
“This isn’t even about you. It’s … it’s …
” It’s everything. It’s my feelings for Finn, the guilt and stress over Beth, this wedding and it being yet another way I see my friends growing up, taking the next step, while I’m stuck in my rut of jerking off in front of a camera and not pursuing the thing I’m actually passionate about.
While I love Money Shot and that I get paid doing it, it’s not like I’ve ever yearned for it to be my forever job.
“I’m your brother,” David says. “Let me in.”
I’m about to let it all out, blurt every sordid detail of how I make my money, why I’m freaking out, and most of all, why I feel nothing but guilt when David’s around, but I check one last time.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do this tomorrow? You should go enjoy your night.”
“I won’t enjoy it knowing you’re hurting.”
I release a breath that sounds a hell of a lot like defeat. “How much time do you have?”
“For you? Infinite minutes.”
Sitting at the hole-in-the-wall burger joint that capitalizes on drunken people’s craving for greasy food, I try to put the words together in my head while David texts Mel that he and I have left the club.
“Okay.” He puts his phone on the table face down. “I’m all yours. Spill.”
“I honestly don’t even know where to start.”
“Start with whatever made you freak out back there.”
“Finn told me he loves me.”
David stares at me, processing the words, but the longer he thinks about it, the deeper his brow gets. “Nope. I’m going to need you to start from the beginning, then, because I have no idea how we got from part A to part B.”
I smile. “You know how Mel was obsessively trying to get me and Finn together? Well, it kinda happened. But also not really. Not in the proper sense.”
“He’s the guy you’ve been seeing?”
“Sort of. On the DL. But also really publicly.”
“I’m way too drunk to understand this.” David puts his head down on the table, which is probably not too sanitary. For his head or the table that people eat food off of.
“How about I lay it all out for you from beginning to end?”
“I’m ready.” He lifts his head and squints at me, like he’s trying extra hard to concentrate.
“The gist of it is that I don’t earn all of my money from graphic design. I may or may not be a popular cam boy on Money Shot, which is basically the queer OnlyFans. So I have sex on camera for money, and it’s not that I’m ashamed of it, but …”
David’s eyes are comically wide now, growing even wider with each word coming out of my mouth.
I keep going because if we stop here, I won’t get the rest out.
“When Finn moved here, we were both attracted to each other, but you know me, I don’t trust easily, and after the night your mom got lost wandering the streets, I was really down on myself because it’s my fault we didn’t get her diagnosed sooner, my fault I was in denial about it and didn’t tell you until it was too late, and it’s my fault—”
“Nope. I’m going to have to stop you there. Don’t you think I feel just as guilty about that? About leaving her? Putting that responsibility on you when she’s not even your mother?”
“She’s more of a mother to me than my actual mom. And logically, I know it’s not my fault. Or yours. But the guilt—”
“I fucking hate the guilt.”
“Me too. So, that night, Finn was there for me, and stuff happened, but we agreed it wouldn’t happen again. Unless …”
“Unless what?”
“Unless we filmed it for my channel? We’ve been, uh, doing that?” It’s not until I’ve said it that I realize I broke my promise to Finn. “Oh, fuck. But you can’t say anything. I promised no one would find out it was him. We were keeping his identity a secret, and if his sister found out—”
David groans. “Nooooo. I can’t believe you told me a secret that I have to keep from my almost wife.” He gasps. “This is why we’ll get divorced in the future. All because of you!”
I roll my eyes. “Now you’re the one being dramatic. Can I finish my story, please?”
“Only if it doesn’t contain more secrets.”
“Finn and I … we had rules. Emotions weren’t supposed to get involved. Then he went and broke them.”
“And you freaked out and ran away. Right on cue.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve always done it. Ran away when things have gotten too serious. Pushed your boyfriends away because you were waiting for them to do something to hurt you, and when they inevitably did because you were pushing them to, you’d blame them and say, ‘See! I told you you’d do that!’“
“I don’t do that at all. I tried and I tried for so long to have the type of relationship where I’d let myself fall, but without fail, they’d always cheat on me or treat me like dirt or—”
“Because you treat them like dirt first! And now you’re doing it to Finn, who deserves nothing but happiness. He’s like … cinnamon wrapped in pastry with that gooey sauce on top.”
“Are … are you calling him a cinnamon roll?”
“Yes. That’s the thing that he is. Damn. I want a cinnamon roll now. Do you think this place has—”
“Do you really think I do that to guys?” I … I’m both perplexed and scared that this could be true.
“Not only the guys you date but with your work. You never put in real effort to get your graphic designs or your drawings seen, so it’s no surprise to me that you’re doing porn on the side.”
“Shh.” I glance around the practically empty restaurant, but no one seems to care. Or they didn’t hear.
“If you’re not ashamed, why care if anyone hears?”
“Because not everyone is like you, who hears his best friend does porn and you don’t even react. You’re all, ‘Yeah, makes sense.’”
He shrugs. “It does make sense. You didn’t have to keep it from me, but that’s your issue, not mine.
The reason you’re doing that instead of pursuing the thing you really love is because it’s easier to say you want to be an author of graphic novels and that you’re working on your projects and your craft instead of reading rejection letters from publishers. ”
“So what I’m hearing is you think I’m a cliché. Hurt everyone else in fear of being hurt first. Not trying in fear of failure and then getting upset when my dreams never come true.”
“You’re the one who said it was a cliché. But yes. Yes, that’s you in a nutshell.”
“Way to depress me even more.” I fold my arms on the table and lean forward, resting my chin on my forearms.
“I want to ask you something, and you can’t be mad at me.”
“I can be mad at you, but what’s your question anyway?”
“Do you love Finn?”
“No,” I growl.
“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit again.”
I throw up my hands. “Then why’d you even ask if you think you know me better than I know myself?”
David pats my head. “Because I do. And because I love you—like a brother, don’t go running away from me too—I want to see you happy.”
That’s all I want for him too. Yet, when it comes to wanting it for myself, I can’t let it happen. It’s impossible for me to let anyone in.
“Sorry to get all mushy on you,” my best friend whispers.
“Eww, David,” I reply to piss him off.
It works too.
“Ugh. I hate Schitt’s Creek for turning my name into a pop culture reference.”
And I love it.
The only question I’m left with now is … do I also love Finn?