The daily serial fictional based on Chicago's Boystown neighborhood: Boystown series by Danny Bernardo

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21. Rage and Love

Part of him felt like he'd been sitting at the bar waiting for a drink his whole life, while part of him felt like he had just gotten there. Mostly, he was amazed at how awful the service was. How long until someone was going to take his order?   "Sorry, I just picked up this shift," said

21. Rage and Love
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Part of him felt like he'd been sitting at the bar waiting for a drink his whole life, while part of him felt like he had just gotten there. Mostly, he was amazed at how awful the service was. How long until someone was going to take his order?

 

"Sorry, I just picked up this shift," said a luminous and effeminate young man, rushing out behind the bar."

 

"Finally," he said.

 

"You don't remember me, do you?"

 

He studied the young man's face for a moment. There was something oddly comforting and infuriating about the young man's presence, but he wasn't sure if it made him want to laugh hysterically or strangle him. Whatever it is, it felt like a character in a book he read: a book that was his favorite but somehow all the words kept slipping away.

 

"Sorry," he said. "I mean, you look familiar but..."

 

"Fine. Fuck you very much. I only picked up this shift because you were coming. I don't even do this anymore."

 

"Because I was...?"

 

"Is this clown giving ya trouble?" a handsome, shaggy Wicker Park type smirked, coming up behind the young man.

 

"No more than usual, Jay," the young man replied, rolling his eyes.

 

"I'll take it from here, Tristan," Jay said, putting his hand on the young man's shoulder. Tristan smiled and winked at him on his way out the back door. "What can I get for ya?"

 

He studied Jay the bartender's face for what seemed like an eternity. Jay's dark features and olive skin reminded him of someone he'd met before. Or known his whole life and had just forgotten. "Jameson Black Label, neat," he said.

 

"Here you go," Jay said, pouring it for him.

 

"Thanks. Look...no offense, but I don't really wanna talk or anything . I just wanna...be."

 

"It's your time, man," Jay replied, pouring himself a drink. "You do with it what you will."

 

 

 

Hunter sat and drank, a drink that seemed bottomless yet left him still feeling empty.

 

"Seat taken?" asked a voice to his left. Hunter turned and was immediately filled with warmth and joy. Hunter immediately embraced the man next to him weeping and laughing his whole being into him.

 

"I miss you," was all he could say.

 

"I miss you too."

 

"But if you tame me, then we shall need each other," Jay smiled, cleaning a glass. "To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world...."

 

"Huh?" Hunter said.

 

"I don't know, some French guy wrote it. Listen close."

 

Hunter closed his eyes and the silences was filled with words that dangled in the air, finishing the thought that Jay had started: "You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose."

 

"I never thanked you for that," the man to his left said to Hunter, pointing to a framed drawing of a superhero hanging behind Jay.

 

 

"It is beautiful," Jay said. "But I was always partial to this one." Jay motioned to another picture behind him, a wistful drawing of a beautiful Asian man looking forlorn.

 

"Those...are mine," Hunter realized.

 

"It's what you're meant to do. It's what you're meant to be. You just have to choose which direction you want to go. One came from a place of rage. You can find peace with that. Here. The other...came from a place of pure inspiration. Of love. The whole physical world can be your muse, your canvas. If you let it. You just have to choose."

 

"My choice?"

 

"Yep. I'm giving it to you. But you have to hurry...it expires sooner then you think."

 

Hunter closed his eyes again and the words still hung there, growing fainter, and farther away: "You're responsible for your rose."

 

Hunter finished his drink. He had chosen.

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