Bruce stared out the window from his seat at the café, sipping his Ipsento and ignoring his lunch. All the trees that lined North Wells this late-afternoon were still bare – springtime came late to Chicago. At least, it came late to River North.
His day had started on a high note about a thousand years ago, when he work up at 4 AM, screaming. Blood-curdling, psycho-killer screaming. The details of the dream were just outside his recollection – hiding in a room, a door suddenly bursting open...

His heart and mind racing, he lay there gazing at the ceiling for the next two and a half hours. Not today, he pleaded to nobody. Any day but today.
The walls of the condo were thick, but definitely not soundproof. That much he knew after all the years he had lived there with Steve. As such, there were few things Bruce could think of more awkward than running into your next door neighbor at the elevator the morning after they (probably) heard you HORROR MOVIE SCREAMING at 4AM – them, trying not to look at you; you, trying not to notice, embarrassed that they heard but also a little bit hurt that they didn't think to call the police, or to knock on your door. Surely this was not the sound of everything being A-OK in the condo next door.

Bruce ignored the sideways, possibly imaginary glances his way, pretended to straighten his tie and smooth down the front of his shirt, pausing at his troubling mid-section. Maybe I should start taking the stairs, he thought. It was only three floors. Why not? But nobody takes the stairs in Boystown. Somebody had told him that once – he couldn't remember who, couldn't even remember what it meant or was in reference to, but somehow it had stuck through the years, affecting his behavior, probably changing the course of his life. Why and how could he allow that to happen?
He didn't want to think about that. Not now, not today. Any day but today.

*

His phone on the table gently alerted him to an incoming text, but even before he could check it he saw Alex across the street, adorably lost, adorably unsure, so completely unlike his normal self. But as soon as he saw the café, and Bruce sitting in the window, "lost" Alex disappeared and the wall went right back up.

"OMG, Bruce," Alex whined as soon as he walked through the door, "where the hell are we? Why the hell did I allow myself to get dragged out here ON THE L? What is the deal with these curtains? And what the hell are you eating? It looks like something that came out the back of a goose. On toast."

A few of the other customers looked up, briefly amused by the intrusion. "Have a seat," Bruce sighed.

This is a bad idea, he thought.

"Look," Alex went on, "if you want all the stuff back that you gave me... well, I don't actually have all of it anymore... "

Worst idea I've ever had. "I don't care about any of that," Bruce said. "Sell it on eBay if you don't want it."

Alex threw up his hands, appalled. "I would never! I mean, it's nice stuff, is all I meant. Are you okay? You look awful. I mean, worse than usual. I mean... ah, fuck."

A thousand different responses flew through Bruce's head; his mouth chose: "I haven't been sleeping much lately."

"Well, that's understandable," Alex said, suddenly quiet. "I mean, you've gone through a lot these last few months. And then that guy Tristan got killed – you told me you knew him, right? But even before that. Your divorce. I mean, you were with the guy for twenty years. TWENTY YEARS. That's –"
Don't say it, Bruce begged silently.

"—longer than I've been alive! I mean, geez, you guys could –"

PLEASE don't say it.

"—be my parents, or something."

"Well," Bruce said after a pause, "this is pleasant."

"I don't know," Alex went on quietly, studying the pebbled glass tabletop, "like, maybe you guys are OTP... "

"Oaty... what, now?"

"OTP. One true pairing? Like those 'destiny couples' you see on TV. Chuck and Blair. Ross and Rachel. Will and Grace."

Bruce choked on his coffee. He never could tell if the young-young ones were kidding, really were that dense or simply opened their mouths and gave voice to whatever arbitrary combination of thoughts were jigsawed together in their heads at any given moment.

"When you get older," Bruce said gently, "you'll find out that there's no such thing. People in real life just move on. They forget, or at least pretend to. Once the door is shut, it stays shut."
"You sound like you're giving up. You're not doing so bad. My friend Robbie called you a GILF once."
"Ha, thanks," Bruce said. "Wait, did you just say 'GILF'?"

"Yeah. It means –"

"Thanks, I know what it means. I just don't know what it means."

"You just don't make any sense at all anymore," Alex sighed, pretending to check his Instagram for something important. "And if you're not gonna tell me why you made me come all the way out here, can I just go now? Please?"

Bruce regarded Alex silently, just a moment longer than it took for Alex to notice, thinking about the way that Alex had bullied, bribed and somehow fallen his way ass-backwards into simultaneously solving two completely unrelated crimes that, implausibly, had been committed by the same person. Some people just had that rare combination of luck, looks, stubbornness and disarming directness that was able to not only get answers, but exactly the answers that were needed.
Just like... Well, not exactly like... But almost...

WORST. IDEA. EVER.

"I'm parked across the street. I'll give you a ride." Bruce finished his coffee, got up and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.
"Cool," Alex said, standing. "But just so you know," he paused, mugged for the imaginary camera, then sang out, "we are never ever ever getting back together!"

Bruce looked back at him blankly.

"Uhmm, forget it."

I'm so going to regret this, Bruce thought.

###
Mike Cho lives, works, and writes in NYC. You can follow along with the adventure here.
"Nobody takes the stairs in Boystown" is a direct quote from Danny himself, so blame him for you life, your fat fuck.

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Just joining us? Catch up here:

Volume 1 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 2 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 3 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 4 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 5 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 6 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

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