Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
I head into the club and make my way into the room. It’s really full, and I’m a little surprised to even see a couple people still in cosplay from the convention, getting the occasional stares and subtle pointing from other audience members. It’s always funny how in the evenings you get this mix of clear comic con goers and non-comic conners coming together, giving the latter something unique and special that will color their stories of their night out for a while.
The club is dimly lit, with a strong spotlight aimed at a small stage at the far wall. The room is already abuzz with activity, as people mill around sets of tables, sharing conversation and laughs over drinks they’re getting from the bar. In front of the stage are four rows of chairs facing directly at it.
Looking around the room, I notice Seth on his feet waving over at me, Perry and Tom waving from their seats. I make my way over, threading between the round tables and chairs. I’m thankful that we’re at one of the tables and not in the front rows, so the likelihood of being picked on by the comedians on stage is lowered.
“Hi,” I stand awkwardly at the table, taking them all in. “Did you enjoy the con?” I ask Seth, as I don’t think Perry and Tom went.
“Oh, it was amazing. I spent so much money, Tom is already poking fun at me for buying so much,” Seth laughs, motioning me to join them all at the table.
“It’s more that there’s barely any space left in your room for all the statues and comics, babe,” Tom jokes, raising a hand to get the attention of one of the table servers. “I don’t think we can fit another bookshelf in there.”
“Oh, ignore him,” Perry waves off. “Tom’s just bent out of shape because if he had this way, the house would be minimalist chic throughout. Seth and I are waves of endless messy chaos lapping at the edges of his outer calm.”
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tom smiles, leaning into Perry and kissing them on their cheek. I notice his hand on his other side reach out and squeeze Seth’s knee lovingly. It’s sweet.
We talk a little bit about what we’ve been up to since we all saw each other last. I regale them with the hectic life of a comics publishing intern, and Perry and Seth lean in like they’re fascinated by every detail. Tom, too, is interested, but he plays it cooler, leaning back in his chair, slowly sipping on his bottled beer, smiling occasionally when an anecdote tickles him.
Perry, for their part, has had a busy time with a new gallery opening, and jokes about how Comic Con is stealing some of their thunder. Seth obviously raves about his time at the con today, and tells us more about who they met and what they got, most of which seems to go over Perry and Tom’s heads, but they smile pleasantly, excited for him. Tom doesn’t share quite as readily, or rather, not in detail. He tells us a bit about how it’s been a week of high profile meetings, and some of his most important clients, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Honestly, I’d bore myself with all the details as much as you, Jesse, believe me,” he shrugs.
For what feels like the first time in over a week, I can finally relax. I sink into their stories of their work week, their creative endeavors and even their social plans, and I let it just take over from everything else. No worries, just listening. It feels like I’m just letting go, if even for a few hours, and I don’t think I realized how much I needed it.
Then Perry asks, “So, what are your plans for the future, Jesse?” My stomach bunches back up in a knot, and I feel the tension return to my shoulders.
Awkwardly, I try to explain my current situation at work, minus the boss’s indecent proposal, and how I’d like to get my own creative life back up and running, and get my social affairs in order. Then how I’d really like to find someone special to share that all with.
“Just the one?” Perry teases, finger circling over the rim of their martini glass. They laugh when I blush, and Seth kicks them under the table.
“Ignore them,” Seth says, turning to me, eyes not leaving their mischievous partner. But then his eyes move onto me with eyebrows knit in concern. “But that sounds like a lot to be trying to do all at once, Jesse. What’s the rush?”
“Oh, I dunno,” I lie, “I think, it just feels like some things are getting into order in my life, but others are spiraling out of my reach, and I should try and get everything aligned so…” I trail off.
Tom tilts his head. “‘So’ what?”
“So,” I pause, unsure what to say…and then it just all sort of tumbles out. “So I don’t wind up alone. I…I spent a lot of time alone growing up. I don’t want that again. My parents loved me, they still do, and they did their best, I know that, but I felt a little…abandoned? And I don’t want that for my life, going forward you know? I need to make sure that doesn’t happen to me, I just?—”
The lights dim further, and the crowd settles down as the announcer brings on the act for the evening, a comedian by the name of Stan Ellis. As I draw a thin smile across my face, leaving what I said where it was, Seth and Perry reach across the table and squeeze my hand. I nod to them, and they sit back, turning their attention to the stage. As I do the same, I feel Tom’s hand on my shoulder, squeezing and giving me a brief pat. I swallow hard, forcing the burning in my eyes back. Where the hell did that come from?
Onto the stage walks a young man in his twenties, wearing jeans, sneakers and a loose t-shirt. Thick arms bare underneath the shirt, one hand stuffed into his pocket as the other holds a microphone. His face is handsome, squared jaw and wide features, proportionally perfect with his overall shape, as he pulls the hand out of his pocket and sweeps back his thick, sandy blonde hair out of his face and then waves out at us in the crowd.
“Good evening, folks!” he declares, and we all clap politely, with a few whoops and yells thrown in from around the room for good measure.
I settle in, and try (and fail) to turn my mind away from where it went a moment ago. It was like I lost control of my own thoughts for a moment there, and I feel partly in shock. In part because I shared it at all, but also…because I feel like it was information I didn’t even know myself until I said it.
The stand-up’s routine goes into full swing, and people seem to be receptive as he gets them on side incredibly fast. Everyone is bursting out laughing with each punchline he lands, completely swept up in his skill with wordplay. All but me, that is.
I do my best to follow along, and I make the right noises and reactions in the right places; I don’t want anyone to feel bad after all, so outwardly I try not to show what’s going on inside my head. If anything, I’m barely understanding it myself.
Why did I reveal all that to Tom, Perry and Seth? And why did it feel so good, those simple acts of physical contact letting me know they heard me, and were there for me? Is that really what all this is about, really, deep down? Is that why I still haven’t confronted the message in my phone and what it could mean? I’m not afraid of what it means for me or my health, I’m afraid it will mean I’ll be alone forever?
I wring my hands on the table, and force a smile to Perry when they look over at me with knowing eyes. I must be a better actor than I thought, as they seem satisfied and get swept up in the laughter of the audience again.
Perhaps, if being alone is what I’m really scared of, trying to limit myself to finding the one partner isn’t the way to go? Perhaps what I need is what these three have, that they seem keen to let me in on too. Each of them feels right for me in different ways: Seth is a geek like me, and we can nerd out together; Perry is exceptionally smart and capable at what they do in the creative community; and Tom is, well, Tom is a provider and stable and absolutely freakin’ hot in a boss man kinda way.
And with all of them, I could never be alone. Perry and Seth alone have each probably experienced some of the more isolating aspects of being queer, and have come out not just on top but happy. If I’m…if it has happened to me, then surely they’d understand the isolation and pain. They could be there for me, and give me the support I need, and I wouldn’t have to feel like a burden because it’s a burden shared.
I wonder if I have it in me to love multiple people in this way at once. I do know I have a jealous streak a mile wide, but that was only because of bad communication. An old ex of mine hadn’t let me know that he saw our relationship as open, so when I came round to his apartment to surprise him and found him balls deep in someone else, well, I won’t lie, I kinda overreacted.
But if I went into a relationship knowing? That’s a different ball game, surely? I could do that, I think. I love being around people, I hate being…
I hate being alone.
“Hey, guy, why so serious? I can’t be that bad!”
I spin my head around and realize that everyone is looking at me. Definitely the opposite of being alone, I am feeling very perceived at the moment, and I am not totally sure I like this either.
Seth, Tom and Perry smile at me, and I look back towards the stage to realize the stand-up, Stan, is also looking right at me, pointing, microphone in his other hand casually held towards his mouth.
“Oh, sorry, I, uh, I just have a lot on my mind…” I offer, weakly.
“A lot on your mind? Guy, this is why this night is in a bar!” The crowd laughs gently.
“Heh, I’m trying not to get wasted, I have work tomorrow,” I rub the back of my neck, feeling the flush of heat rising up into my cheeks.
“Oh yeah? I’m working right now, as it happens. Apparently, I’m not doing a very good job.”
I throw my hands out and wave them furiously, shaking my head with just as much energy, so much so I’m sure everyone’s scared it will fly off my shoulders. “No, no, not at all! You’re brilliant! Really funny! Honestly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing in my head!”
“Well, jeez, guy, if you stroke dick as good as you stroke egos, I’m gonna have to ask you out!”
The audience bursts into laughter at the sudden change in tone, the whiplash having a different effect on me as I feel the blood rush to my cheeks hotter than before. Stan is, after all, a really handsome guy. My eyes flash down to his pants subconsciously, before I force them back up and hope he didn’t see.
“Good god, guy, buy me a drink first!” Fuck. He playfully covers his crotch, coquettishly turning away and giving me a stage wink. The audience is rolling.
Meanwhile, I let my head drop to the table, hands over my head in defeat, as Tom, Perry and Seth laugh furiously.
“What’s your name, guy?”
“Jesse,” I say, muffled by the table.
“Jesse? Well, Jesse, thanks for the brief interruption and confidence boost. Good to know I can get some kind of reaction out of your cute little face.”
My head shoots up. Did he just call me cute? The audience oohs like children in a playground.
“Well, Jesse, I’m Stan. I like bad horror movies, good Chinese takeout, and adorable tall twinks, and if you can bring the other two, see me after the show, yeah?”
I decide to play into it. “Okay, it’s a date,” I say and smile broadly. He earned it.
He pauses for a beat, smiling back. “There it is,” he says. “Now that is a much better look on you. I like making that happen.”
He finally turns his attention away from me and leans into his next set up, before slyly looking back my way, catching my eye and throwing me another wink, this one just for me. I sit back into my seat, genuinely smiling.