1 Brandon #3
They stand in silence, Brandon feeling his phone heavy in his pocket, willing it to buzz with a message back, knowing it won’t because Jon is asleep, like he said he would be. Nothing to worry about. They’ll talk tomorrow. Plan a date.
***
Jon doesn’t text back the next morning, but Brandon’s friends do.
IAN
No you’re not
OLLIE
That’s so sweet, congrats!
IAN
Stop encouraging him. It’s fine to fantasize about the guests but they’re guests!
brANDON
We did kind of end up in bed together
IAN
You could get fired
brANDON
No one knows. He gave me his number so we could hang out when I’m not working. We talked. He’s funny.
NICOLE
Is he, or is he just a tall guy with a beard who had sex with you?
OLLIE
Are you crying again?
NICOLE
I am waiting in line getting coffee
IAN
Isn’t that an assistant job?
NICOLE
Every junior associate is an assistant to the senior associates. It was my turn.
brANDON
No one wants to hear about my new guy? His name is Jon. He knows DSLWLS!
IAN
He’s not your guy. He’s a guy you very stupidly fucked at your workplace
brANDON
You fuck people from work all the time
IAN
I’m a drag queen, it’s different, and not all the time. You made a bad decision. And he’s not going to text you
OLLIE
He might!
brANDON
He will!
You’re just bitter because you’re still not over Victor.
IAN
I am not bitter, I am justifiably angry
NICOLE
It’s been over a year, honey
IAN
Stop deflecting, this is about Brandon’s bad choices
brANDON
I got home before you last night—where were you anyway?
IAN
I was closing up the bar. I helped put away chairs
NICOLE
No you didn’t
IAN
Why are we picking on me now?
NICOLE
Did you do that thing where you tracked down Victor’s car and keyed it again?
IAN
It was parked in front of his boyfriend’s place like it always is
NICOLE
Ian
brANDON
Ian
OLLIE
I hope it helped you let go a little
IAN
Okay, so let’s go over this—I keyed my ex’s car again, Brandon slept with a guest, Ollie you still have no place to live, and Nicole remains a lonely workaholic who got home after 2 a.m. again, I’m guessing
OLLIE
I’m house-sitting
NICOLE
It’s a hard job
IAN
I love you broken bitches
brANDON
I want you guys to meet Jon, maybe have a party?
IAN
Absolutely not.
Brandon laughs aloud in bed at that. It’s a small two-bedroom in Bed-Stuy that he shares with Ian, where one of the bedrooms used to be part of the living room but the landlord threw up a thin wall so he could say it was a two-bedroom.
Which it technically is, even if Brandon has to let Ian know if he’s bringing anyone home, because even the softest moan can be heard clearly in the living room—which has no windows.
The floors are scuffed, the shower has a window that looks directly into their neighbor’s place, and the fridge is older than Brandon, but the water pressure is good, and Ian is a fine roommate.
Especially for a drag queen. Brandon was worried the apartment would be all dresses and wigs everywhere, sequins raining from the sky, but Ian is organized.
Everything’s in boxes. They’re meticulously tidy, a compulsive cleaner, and they even cook. Brandon knows how lucky he is.
He slips out of bed and puts on some pajamas before opening his door and walking out into the living room.
There’s a TV here and a coffee table that doubles as a dining table.
To the right is the kitchen, a narrow little strip that juts off the rest of the apartment, barely big enough for one person.
Ian is already in there, frying bacon in a long floral dressing gown and plaid boxers.
They’re hot—the kind of person Jon would absolutely be texting back already.
Korean American, with a thin, muscular body, even a six-pack, and close-cropped black hair.
They keep cooking without looking over at Brandon.
“We are not having a party for your one-night stand,” Ian says.
“He might be more than that.” Brandon flops down on the futon, legs curled up on one side.
“You’ve gotta stop going home with every guy who flirts with you and then assuming you’re in love.” Ian holds the pan up and lets it sizzle. “It’s giving me anxiety.”
“I’m gonna tell Ollie you don’t believe in love anymore, and then he’s going to pester you all day about how love is real .” Brandon sings the last three words, clutching his hands under his chin.
“Oh gods, please don’t. I’m making you breakfast.”
Brandon drops his hands. “Fine, but then stop telling me not to like guys.”
Ian looks over at Brandon and smiles a little. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. You always get hurt.”
Brandon shrugs, looking down, thinking of how many nights he’s cried because a guy he went home with didn’t text him back. “I guess.” It won’t be like that with Jon though, right? It feels too much like something more. Their connection.
“And do not expect me to say sleeping with a guest at work was a good idea. That was stupid.”
“Okay, yes, it was,” Brandon admits. “But he was so hot.” He closes his eyes, and his head rolls back as he remembers Jon’s body and how, unbelievably, he was invited to touch it.
“You get photos?” Ian looks over, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but if we do a party and you meet him…”
“No.” Ian turns back to the stove.
“I told him about the trivia we do; he thought it sounded fun.”
Ian sighs and opens the oven before slipping on a mitt and taking out a tray of biscuits.
They take out plates, load them with bacon and biscuits, then pull a pan out of the oven, filled with baked eggs and kimchi, which they ladle next to the biscuits.
They hand a plate to Brandon. “Here, just like Umma used to make.”
“Thanks,” Brandon says, taking the plate and going back to the living room, where he sits on their approximation of a sofa: a futon that lists to one side.
Ian comes and sits beside him, eating their own breakfast.
“Tell you what,” Ian says between bites.
“If he texts you back, bring him to my show tonight. If he seems cool, maybe we can throw a party on Sunday night or something. Low-key. If you want to. I don’t know why you would though.
Go, like, have lots of sex and keep him private. Why bother introducing us to him?”
Brandon cuts into the eggs. They run a little and taste delicious. “He feels special. And I guess I just thought you would, like, impress him.”
Ian leans back on the futon. “Honey. If you want to impress him, trust me, we are not the way to do it.”
“I mean, he’s staying at the hotel, so he must have money, right?
And he was in his thirties, I think, so older.
Why did he even bring me up there last night?
” He thinks of his phone, still on his nightstand.
Maybe Jon texted while he ate. He puts his plate down and rushes to grab it.
No messages from Jon, just one in the group chat.
OLLIE
I love a party!
“Nothing?” Ian asks.
Brandon shakes his head, a little embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it was just—”
Ian throws their arms in the air. “I could be wrong! I’m fucking nuts.
” Their arms drop, and they speak quietly as they break apart a biscuit.
“Last night I keyed Victor’s car again. We all make bad decisions.
Cheating asshole.” They drop the biscuit, looking up.
“Did you know his new boyfriend is a top only? For years Victor said he was top only, even when I wanted to switch it up a little, and now he’s some butch guy’s li’l bottom bitch? ”
“You gotta block him on Instagram,” Brandon says.
“I did. I saw this on one of my other accounts.”
“Is it an account specifically for stalking him?”
“It’s not stalking.” They point at Brandon with their biscuit. “It’s gathering intelligence. For vengeance.”
“What about that guy you hooked up with last month? Tim or something?”
“Tom. What about him?”
“Didn’t he, like, ask you out?”
“Yeah, but I’m not ready to date again.” They say it quickly, clearly wanting the conversation to be over.
“Nicole would say you’re obsessing.”
“Nicole is a workaholic with no social life who falls asleep trying to masturbate most nights.”
Brandon snorts a laugh, trying to keep a bite of food in his mouth. “She told you that?” he asks after swallowing.
“Yeah. Poor thing. Woke up with the vibrator still half inside her. She’s never going to land a girlfriend that way. But she’s ‘choosing work’ for now. That’s her call. Just like I’m choosing vengeance. And you’re choosing—”
“Love,” Brandon says, at the same time that Ian says, “Bad decisions.”
Brandon laughs. “Oh no, what if Ollie is the only one making good choices?”
“The couch-surfing dog walker?” Ian asks, getting up.
“I don’t think so.” They reach out for Brandon’s plate, which Brandon hands over, empty now, and takes both dishes back to the kitchen.
“Can you hit the grocery today? I have a list on the fridge. I’ll Venmo you, but Kate asked me to pick up an extra shift at the bookstore today, and I need the money. ”
“Sure,” Brandon calls back. He picks up his phone. Nothing new. “My shift isn’t till six. When is your show tonight?”
“Midnight, last slot,” Ian says with a frown. “I keep saying they gotta move me up, but…”
“You’ll get there,” Brandon says.
“Fuck yeah, I will. Maybe not at the Wreck Room, but somewhere.” They stretch out for a moment, shoulders rolling. “Now I’m gonna shower. See you tonight. And stop staring at your phone.”
Ian goes into the bathroom, robe flying out behind them, and shuts the door. Brandon picks up his phone. Nothing. So he texts Jon again.
brANDON
Sleep well?