Chapter 20
SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME
Micah - Snagged Thread
Orange string lights twinkled in the window of Rye’s apartment, and carved pumpkins flanked the step.
Music throbbed from inside. Ximena stood on the sidewalk, arms folded, as an older man droned on about something.
As soon as she spotted Micah and Cosmo, she exclaimed, “Oh, there you are! Let’s go take a look at that leaky sink, hm? ”
Before Micah could ask what she meant, she gripped him by the elbow and pulled him down the sidewalk. Cosmo quickened his pace to keep up with them, then looked over his shoulder. “Gary is still here, huh?”
“Who’s Gary?” Micah asked.
“Dreadful man. He used to live next me,” Cosmo said. “I drastically cut down on my smoking simply because I didn’t want to step outside, knowing he’d inevitably want to talk to me. It got so bad that I begged Ximena to let me move into a different unit. She moved him instead.”
Ximena nodded. “I would not be surprised to learn that he’s stuck in his own personal time loop, because he complains about the same things over and over.”
Micah laughed. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky that I’ve never been roped into one of his conversations.”
After slowing her pace, Ximena looked back and loosened her grip on his arm. Gary had wandered away from the building, slowly heading toward the one across the parking lot. She said, “It seems safe now. But if he starts heading toward you – run.”
She left their side, enough urgency in her step to indicate she didn’t feel safe quite yet. Micah and Cosmo doubled back for Rye’s apartment, and Micah said, “Who knew the scariest thing you’d encounter this close to Halloween would be a dude named Gary?”
“You kid, but you haven’t had the misfortune of talking to him yet,” Cosmo replied.
They reached Rye’s door without incident, and Rye opened it before they could knock.
Their hair was lime green this month, and they had on a tight red bodysuit with a pointed tail and horns, a stick-on goatee, and glittery red eyeshadow.
Micah felt underdressed in his jeans and tee shirt, but at least he’d changed out of his sweatpants.
“Cosmo! Glad you could make it.” They pulled him into a hug, then their gaze jumped between him and Micah.
They offered Micah their hand. “Hey. Um, sorry I didn’t give you an invitation when I was handing them out to everyone else last week.
I figured you wouldn’t have come. Glad you’re here, though. You two know each other, huh?”
Micah shook Rye’s hand, then tugged Cosmo close, hoping it looked intimate but not possessive. “Well, the art world is quite small.”
“True! Come have a drink.” Rye ushered them in, and they waded through pirates, serial killers, pregnant nuns, and presidents. Vibrant violin and organ music filled the room.
Cosmo smiled and waved to practically everyone around them. “This sounds like vampire ballroom music.”
“I knew I was going to need those plastic fangs,” Micah said.
“That sounds fun,” Cosmo purred. He slid his arms around Micah’s waist and shuffled in a circle. Micah thought of their time on Cosmo’s bed, his lips gently savoring Cosmo’s flesh like it was a ripe peach, and he had to keep his knees from turning to jelly.
Cosmo rested his head on Micah’s shoulder as the music wove around them. “Hold me tighter.”
Micah gripped him close. He wasn’t sure if Cosmo was struggling with the same depression Micah was prone to, but his self-worth had certainly taken a hit after what happened with Royce, and it wasn’t fair.
“You keep saying you’re fine, and I know you’re not.
I wasn’t. I felt… I felt so foolish for ignoring my gut and letting someone who I had a weird feeling about into my place.
It made me think I deserved what happened to me.
Make bad decisions, get consequences that match. ”
Cosmo started to protest, but Micah said, “I don’t feel like that anymore.
But climbing out of that guilt was hard.
And I want you to know you’re worth more than your negative thoughts.
For you, my love, I would stub my toe on a bed frame five nights in a row.
For you, my love, I would drink coffee that was slightly too hot.
For you, my love, I would dice a pepper and rub my eyes.
” He swayed with Cosmo, his lips brushing Cosmo’s ear.
“I would do all kinds of specific and mildly painful things for you.”
“You’re a strange man.”
“I want to give you everything you deserve.”
Cosmo’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze searching Micah’s face. “And what would that be?”
Micah wasn’t a poet. He wasn’t a writer.
Hopefully his portraits exposed the soul of the person he drew, but they couldn’t say all he wanted to say to Cosmo, and words didn’t seem sufficient.
“You deserve love. And respect. You deserve for every secret desire of your heart to come to pass. And I don’t know what those are, but I’d very much like to find out. ”
Partiers bumped into them, but Micah barely noticed. Tears had formed at the edges of Cosmo’s eyes, and Micah would have given anything to take them away.
“I want… I want you to eat my baking,” Cosmo said thickly.
“Damn, you’re sexy. I can do that.”
“I want to have late-night conversations with you on the balcony.”
“We can. Tonight even.”
“And I want you to read books to me in bed.”
“Okay, you’d better stop now or I’m going to take you right here in this crowded living room.”
“Lies.”
Micah stopped dancing. He brushed his thumb along Cosmo’s cheek and wiped away a tear.
“The things you want are simple. They’re easy.
” He clenched his jaw, his throat working.
“And it hurts me to know that no one has ever given them to you before. I will eat every cookie you bake. I’ll read you every book.
You deserve to be treated like the queen you are. ”
Cosmo sank against Micah and shut his eyes. “Do you know Marcel Duchamp’s Prelude to a Broken Arm?”
“Was that part of his Readymades series? Fountain and all that?”
“Yes. The snow shovel. What do you think of it?”
“Eh…” Micah hesitated, unsure of what answer Cosmo wanted. “I like some conceptual art if it really makes you think, but I can’t say it’s my favorite.”
“It’s an absurd novelty.”
“I’m not into absurd novelties. I love art that’s genuine. Passionate. Deep.” He caressed the nape of Cosmo’s neck, his other hand pressed protectively against the small of his back.
Cosmo nodded, his eyes full of hope. Micah didn’t know what Duchamp had to do with anything right now, but it was apparently the right answer.
The song changed, howling wolves and creeping notes ramping up into the dramatic synth of “Thriller,” which would probably be played at every Halloween party until the end of time.
The partiers with their latex masks and red Solo cups took on a new energy, and someone’s plastic cutlass smacked into Micah’s thigh.
He swayed with the music and nipped at Cosmo’s lips. “You gonna bake me cookies this week?”
“Not cookies. I’m going to fill you up with my banana bread.”
“That sounds really dirty.”
“It’s cream-filled.”
“You’re making this up.”
“It’ll give you a leg-cramping orgasm. It’s that good.”
Micah raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “I’ll gird my loins.
” Maybe that would be a good time for Cosmo to help Micah practice for the gallery reception, if he was still willing.
But the first step was being able to let Cosmo inside the apartment, which Micah hadn’t been able to do yet.
His reaction to Cosmo coming in unannounced had been much worse than he’d hoped.
If he couldn’t get Cosmo inside, then the rest of his ideas for practice wouldn’t matter, and he was certain the reception would go horribly.
Cosmo suddenly pulled out his phone and opened the screen. If it was more disgusting Flashbulb notifications, Micah was going to pluck the phone from his hands and drop it in the punch bowl.
“Everything alright?”
“Goddamn it.” Cosmo sighed and showed Micah the phone.
It was a text from Déjà:
God, that guy never stopped. Cosmo shouldered past dancers, the phone pressed to his ear, and Micah hurried to keep up. The music quieted as they stepped outside. A chilly wind licked around them.
“Darling, are you still at my apartment?” Cosmo said.
“I don’t want you there alone. Not after what he did to you at my funeral…
He sent me one last week. Guess I’ll have to take this one to the police too.
” He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
He turned to Micah. “The note says, ‘I hope there’s enough space in your body locker.’”
“Shit.” Micah rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t want to worry you, but I should have told you that he was at Night Gallery the other day.
He came up to the doors and I wouldn’t let him in.
When I quoted his last threat back to his face he got scared and left.
I didn’t realize you’d been going to the police about it. ”
“Micah! So my presque vu was correct. He was going to come inside and slam me against the wall. But you stopped him and didn’t tell me.” A series of expressions flashed across his face, and Micah expected to be chastised for not saying anything.
Instead, Cosmo twined their fingers together and said, “The police have been spectacularly unhelpful so far. I’d rather have you around. Will you come home with me? I’ll cook you something.”
“How can I say no to that? Are you scared? I won’t let you be alone. I should have given Zedd a black eye to match his other one.”
Déjà’s voice drifted from the phone. “What’s going on? What did Micah say? Something about Zedd at the gallery?”