Chapter 19 The Variable
The silence in Julian’s apartment had once been a source of profound comfort. It was a clean, orderly state of being, a welcome respite from the noise and demands of the outside world. He had curated it, protected it. Now, it was just quiet.
He stood in the center of his living room on Saturday morning, a mug of perfectly brewed coffee in hand, and was struck by the absence of something he hadn't known was missing.
There was no color, save for the precise gray of the sofa and the stark white of the walls.
There was no clutter, no personality beyond a disciplined, minimalist aesthetic.
The space was less a home and more a gallery exhibit on the theme of control.
It was the polar opposite of Leo’s apartment.
Julian’s mind, unbidden, supplied the sensory data: the scent of turpentine and old books, the warmth of the sun on a worn rug, the visual feast of overflowing bookshelves and vibrant, half-finished canvases.
Leo’s home was a living, breathing ecosystem of his personality. Julian’s was a sterile vacuum.
The previous night had introduced a new, compelling variable into his carefully managed life equation.
The disastrous first date at Cordelette had been a product of his old programming: execute the socially accepted formula for a “perfect” romantic evening.
The result had been a failure. The rebooted date at the arcade, however—that had been an exercise in chaos theory.
It had been loud, illogical, inefficient, and the most fun Julian had experienced in a decade.
He had enjoyed the person Leo was outside the confines of Vance it was the protocol.
It was the only path forward that made any sense.