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The Woodwards had decided to go out for their New Year’s celebrations. Normally they’d spend the holiday as a family, but Alice had gone to a friend’s house for a sleepover, and the couple found the atmosphere at home… lacking, for lack of a better word. Needless to say, Bill and Kiara’s marriage wasn’t quite holding up too well. With Alice gone for the night, the Woodwards didn’t feel much like celebrating with just the two of them. So, Kiara proposed going to the Birdhouse to watch the countdown. Crowded as it’d surely be as the favorite bar of many in Hatchetfield, they were bound to not have much room for idle conversation. Bill agreed.
The rowdy interior bled into the quiet street as the door opened and the two stepped inside. At 10pm, the bar was packed with young and middle-aged citizens alike all joined together, growing steadily more intoxicated as the clock ticked closer to midnight.
They parted as soon as Bill spotted a pair of empty seats, grabbing them before anyone else noticed, as Kiara made her way to the bar to get a drink for herself and something non-alcoholic for Bill, who would be driving them home once the celebration died down.
Bill settled into a chair and took his jacket off, appreciating the warmth of the atmosphere as opposed to the freezing temperatures outside, though he knew soon he’d be sweating with the amount of people packed into the small building.
Immediately after, a man tapped him on the shoulder. He pointed to the seat Bill was saving for Kiara and spoke.
“Someone sitting here?” He cocked his head, taking in Bill from his standing position.
“Yeah, sorry. My wife,” Bill explained, an apologetic look on his face. He took in the man as well. He was tall, slim, with a slightly ridiculous-looking mustache. Not too bad looking aside from that.
He pursed his lips in response, “Damn. Should’ve known you’d be taken. The pretty ones always are.”
Taken aback, Bill sputtered, “Excuse me?”
“My bad,” the stranger raised his arms up in defense, “Guess I’ll have to shoot my shot elsewhere.” He clicked his tongue and winked at Bill, “See ya ‘round,” before turning away and disappearing into the crowd of people milling about.
Bill shook off the encounter and didn’t allow himself to focus on the swirling emotions and thoughts that wanted to battle within him. He let out a breath and took a look around before spotting Kiara at the bar, waiting for the drinks. Bill raised an arm up in a half-wave to grab her attention and let her know where he had found seats. After she nodded in acknowledgement Bill allowed himself to settle in once more and take in the surroundings of the loud, crowded bar.
It wasn’t too terrible, all in all. Bill and Kiara didn’t hate each other, at least not too terribly. They could still have fun conversation and be friendly, and Bill began having a good time.
Kiara gasped as she recognized a band that appeared on one of the TVs and left to go dance along to the music with some of the others in the crowd, but Bill decided to stay back in his seat, not one for tight, crowded areas.
Time ticked on, the bands changed, but Kiara still had not returned. Bill shook it off. He didn’t quite mind. She was allowed to have fun, and she knew that wasn’t his scene, so there’s no reason for him to feel left out. She’d be back.
Throughout the next hour Bill kept seeing glimpses of the same man from earlier, always at a different place within the bar, sometimes he was looking back at him. He flushed and looked away quickly each time, taking a sip from his water glass as a distraction.
Sometimes the mysterious man even appeared before him.
“You’ve been alone for quite a while now,” he pointed out, sliding into the chair next to him. “That’s not right for New Year’s Eve.”
Bill rolled his eyes, “I’m perfectly fine. My wife is having fun, I’m not gonna stop her.”
The stranger rolled his own eyes and snorted in response, “Alright, well, it’d be a shame to leave those lips kissless at midnight,” he stood up from his seat, “so if you can’t find her…”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m married,” Bill refused to let the flirting deter him, no matter how much his insides fluttered at the other man’s words.
“Just a kiss, nothing more. Your call.”
And, once again, with a shrug, the man disappeared back into the crowd.
Two minutes to midnight Kiara was nowhere to be found. He assumed she’d bumped into someone or made friends and got caught up talking, but Bill couldn’t help but feel deserted.
As long as she’s having fun, he thought.
One minute to midnight and Bill found himself standing up, looking around once more. His eyes fell on that man, and the stranger walked towards him. They looked at each other, and a mutual agreement was made through their silent communication as the countdown began. They turned to the TV and joined in as the count got lower and lower, and once the numbers became single digits, Bill found himself looking away from the ball drop and focusing on the man who had moved in next to him, taking in his face and--
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” shouts rang throughout the bar as cheering erupted from the crowd.
Suddenly the man’s hands were around his face, and their lips were pressed together. It was a quick kiss, a chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. A kiss the likes of which Bill hadn’t experienced in a long while.
When they parted he stared at the stranger once more, the latter’s face growing into a smirking smile before he winked at him and, for the last time that evening, disappeared into the party of drunks cheering on the new year.
Bill wasn’t sure why he went. He didn’t like bars, he didn’t like large groups of people, and he didn’t really even like drinking. So why did he, on New Year’s Eve, decide to make his way over to the Birdhouse? Oh, right. Because he’s all alone and anything’s better than his empty house with all the memories of his ex-wife and his daughter and the empty hole that now exists in his heart. That made sense.
He walked straight to the bar after elbowing his way through the crowd and plopped down on an empty stool. He allowed himself to order champagne, may as well, it is a celebration of course, and he had no intent to drive this evening. As he waited for his drink, Bill took a glance around him. The bar was full of people, just as it is every year. Full of people having good times, dancing and laughing and hugging. The excitement was palpable, and Bill found himself smiling despite the loss that had been weighing on him deeply for the past few weeks.
He made idle chatter with the people seated around him and bumped into friends who joined him in conversation for a while before getting back to their parties. It wasn’t half-bad, he convinced himself.
As the night drew on, more people entered the bar, and Bill’s enjoyment decreased steadily. His surroundings were making him more and more claustrophobic and more and more alone. The countdown fell to 15 minutes, and Bill knew he couldn’t stand to wait. He awkwardly stumbled his way out the door, through the celebrating people, and gasped in the cold fresh air after finally escaping.
There was a figure a few yards away, but Bill paid them no mind as he dropped onto the bench outside the bar and closed his eyes, tilting his head back, and breathing in the cool air slowly.
A few moments passed in silence before the other figure approached Bill.
“You alright, man?” the stranger asked, stopping in front of him.
Bill opened his eyes and found himself staring into the eyes of the mysterious stranger from last year. The latter’s eyes sparkled in recognition. He stank of cigarette smoke.
Bill gathered himself enough to answer, “Fine, just,” he let out a breath, “Needed some fresh air.”
The man snorted, “Can’t blame you. Mind if I sit?” He gestures to the empty space beside Bill on the bench.
“Feel free,” Bill scooched over to allow the stranger more room to sit comfortably.
There was a moment of silence between the two. They listened as the muffled chatter and music from inside the bar reached their ears.
“Your wife inside?” The man suddenly asked.
Bill scoffed and put his head in his hands for a moment before extending the back of his left hand towards the stranger, his first two fingers and thumb closed, displaying the empty ring finger. “Divorced.”
“Ah.”
Bill sat back up and looked at the man for a moment. He hadn’t changed much in the last year, still had that ridiculous mustache, still obviously intent on talking to Bill. He supposed he should be flattered, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t.
“You’re not celebrating inside?” Bill asked, tilting his head at the stranger.
“Smoke break,” he explained.
“Ah,” Bill nodded. That explained the smell.
He turned back and looked ahead, appreciating the fresh air. He wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable seated next to this stranger. He didn’t even know his name! Which… huh. He didn’t even know his name.
“I’m Bill, by the way.”
The man next to him smiled, and the glint in his eyes shined in the dark, “Ted.”
Bill smiled in response and relaxed back once more, appreciating the comfort of the atmosphere and the not-quite-a-stranger-anymore beside him.
A few moments later their blissful existence was interrupted with the growing volume of cheers and excitement from inside the bar.
Ted checked his phone to see “11:58pm” displayed on the screen.
“Almost time,” he turned to Bill. “Ready to leave this year in the dust?”
Bill let out a breath, “I can sure try.” He shot a wry smile at the man next to him.
The countdown began behind them, way too high for any reasonable, sober person to chime in on, but the drunk bar full of people paid no mind.
Bill wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was memories of the year before, maybe it was to forget all the shit that had gone down that year, maybe he was just touch-starved. Whatever it was, it caused him to start speaking.
“Do you want—” he stopped short, suddenly too embarrassed to continue his question.
Ted stared at the other man, waiting for him to finish. But he didn’t, and there wasn’t really a need. Ted knew what he was asking.
He shrugged, “If you do.”
Their eyes met as the countdown got lower, as the celebration raged inside behind them, as they sat in the chill winter air, on the deserted street as everyone crowded around friends and family and bars and TVs to celebrate together. Peace fell on top of Bill’s shoulders, taking the place of the weight that had been present for far too long.
The countdown ended, and cheers erupted behind them, and the two men that had been left staring into each other’s eyes leaned forward softly, slowly, meeting each other for a kiss. Their second kiss, one could say, which is always better than the first, despite all the ado attributed to it. This one lasted longer, with soft, pleasant passion behind it, despite the understanding between the two men that it was only a kiss.
When they parted, they both were left in a state of dazed contentment, broken only by the shiver that ran down Bill’s spine as he was made aware at how long he had been out in the cold.
Bill let out a breath and smiled at Ted.
“Thank you. And nice to meet you again, Ted. I think I’d better go on home, allow you to continue your celebrations.”
“If that’s what you want,” Ted shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind your company, but I can see crowded bars aren’t really your thing.”
Bill nodded and stood, hands stuffed in his pockets. He turned back to Ted and smiled down at him.
“Well, I’ll see ya around, Ted.”
“Next year at the latest,” Ted smirked up at him playfully.
Bill flushed as he turned away, making his way home with warmth inside him for the first time in a while.
Another year passed. Bill grew comfortable with his life without his ex, though he missed Alice’s presence when she wasn’t there. But he was learning to live with it. He was in a much better place than he had been in the year before, and he found himself planning to go to the Birdhouse on New Year’s Eve, rather than resigning himself to go out of loneliness.
Part of him wanted to be around others. He had a few friends who had mentioned they’d probably be there for the ball drop, and it would be fun to see them. Another part of him hoped that Ted would be there, and be there alone, be there looking for him. But Bill didn’t let himself linger on that for long. He’d learned not to hope about those kinds of things, as they rarely worked out for him anyways. But that did nothing to stop those thoughts and emotions and butterflies from appearing as the late hour grew closer.
Bill appeared at the Birdhouse at 9:30 that night, ready, for once, for the celebration that would last until morning. There were quite a few people there, getting their celebrations started. It didn’t take long for Bill to come across a couple of friends. They welcomed him into their groups with open arms, and he enjoyed their company as the hours ticked on, but it did little to keep him from looking around and keeping a watchful eye out for the familiar, tall, mustached man he yearned to see once again that night.
Time passed, and Bill loosened up, enjoyed himself, drank in celebration, and cheered in memory of another year gone. Ted lingered in the back of his mind.
Then, at 10:48 exactly, Bill’s attention was caught by the burst of cold air brought in from the door opening. In the doorway stood the very man he had been waiting for. Ted looked around before catching Bill’s eye and smiled at him. Bill’s stomach flipped at his smile.
Ted nodded in greeting and made his way over to the bar, propping himself on an empty barstool. Bill excused himself from his friends’ table and made his way over to the other man.
He tapped Ted on the shoulder and pointed to the stool next to him.
“Someone sitting here?”
Ted turned to him with a smile on his face, mustache lifting and emphasizing the width of his smile, “You, hopefully.”
Bill’s smile widened as he sat next to the man. His stomach fluttered and his mind raced as excitement and joy buzzed through his body.
They made small talk at first, as you do. Being polite, catching up. Each managed to covertly slip in the fact that they are both, indeed, still single.
Conversation turned and they began talking about anything and everything. Bill got lost, transfixed in Ted’s eyes and his stories and his laugh and, yes, even his stupid mustache.
Before they knew it, the bar had filled up and everyone was awaiting the turn of the new year. But the two men only had eyes for each other. Around them, drinks were passed, celebration occurred, and the minutes ticked down.
Only at 11:59 did Bill turn to the TV to see the seconds counting down.
“Wow, that evening flew by,” he thought aloud, internally wondering if this is where it would end. With a kiss and a ‘see you next year’. Is that all they will ever have?
Ted broke him out of his head by grabbing Bill’s hand from his knee, and tangling their fingers together.
“That’s the beauty of New Year’s. It’s a reminder that you have a whole nother year of time, of opportunity, of chance… to spend together, if you wish.”
A tentative look crossed Ted’s face as he tried to read Bill’s reaction. Relief spread across Bill’s face, and a smile quickly followed, just as the countdown reached single-digits. Ted’s face matched his, and they sat there, grinning at each other before closing the distance with a kiss, their third, or their first, or their best. Whatever it was, it was theirs.
Around the pair, their joy was matched, or as close as possible, by the partiers as the ball dropped and the hour turned, and the year ended. Celebration rang out, and Ted and Bill were only fueled by the outbursts of joy surrounding them. The atmosphere of joy and the shouts of excitement for the turn of the new year felt like cheers for them and their future. And, maybe they were, in a way. The cheers for change, the cheers for life moving forward, the cheers for new opportunity.
Who knew what the year would bring, but, whatever it was, they’d get through it together.