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Dream only needs one thing at the grocery store, so he does not bring a cart or a basket. Wandering along the edge of the aisles, he hums to himself and glances up at the signs overhead. Shiny linoleum floors glisten below as Dream searches for the pet food aisle. He is distracted, completely lost in his own world, so he barely notices someone striding toward him until -
“Hey there.”
“Huh?” Surprised, Dream turns his head to see a man standing nearby. “Me?”
“Yeah.” Keeping his voice quiet, the stranger glances around before returning his deep brown eyes to Dream. “Are you busy?”
“No, not at all. I’m just shopping.” Dream blinks, unsure whether this man mistakenly believes that he is someone else.
Long black braids cascade over the man’s shoulders. A shiny leather jacket complements his dark skin and makeup. Glittery piercings sparkle in his earlobes and septum. Dream does not recognize this handsome man, but part of him wishes he did.
Noticing his counterpart’s assessment of his appearance, the stranger is encouraged. “I don’t want to bother you, but uh…” Gesturing beyond their shoulders, he whispers furtively, “I just saw my ex-boyfriend walking in with a new guy. Can I hold your hand for a while so they won’t think I’m a loser?”
Dream cannot suppress an amused grin. Relieved that the problem is nothing serious, he agrees to play along: “Sure, man. No problem.” He extends an upturned palm.
Gladly accepting the offer, the stranger places his hand upon Dream’s. Their fingers slide together, uniting and interlocking before the man gives his hand a tentative squeeze. “Thanks.” More relaxed and confident now, the stranger asks, “What were you looking for?”
“Just cat food,” Dream replies, using his free hand to point ahead. “It’s got to be that way. I checked the rest of the aisles on this side of the store already.”
“You don’t know the layout?”
“No.” Leading the stranger onward beside him, Dream explains, “I usually buy cat food at a different store, but they were sold out of the brand I was looking for.”
“Ah, okay.” A pause. Glancing sideways at his partner, the stranger muses, “I love cats. Does yours have a name?”
“Yes, her name is Patches.” A shy smile lifts the corners of Dream’s mouth. “I adopted her when she was only a few months old, but now she’s getting older. I might need to start feeding her wet food soon.”
Lifting his bearded chin, the stranger reads each overhead sign that they pass until he nods, “Here it is.”
“Oh.” Dream was not paying attention. He stops to follow his partner’s gaze. “Good catch. Let’s go.”
As the pair enters the aisle together, the stranger continues their conversation: “I heard that for kittens, you’re supposed to mix dry and wet food together so the kittens get used to it easier. Maybe it works the opposite way for old cats?”
“You might be right,” Dream replies thoughtfully. Passing the section for dog food, they reach several shelves of cans and bags. Abruptly realizing they are still holding hands despite the empty aisle around them, Dream stammers, “Um… I might need both hands to grab one.”
“Oh, sure.” Instantly the stranger pulls away, shoving both of his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. When Dream shuffles forward to pick up a bulging bag of cat food, he suggests, “I can help you with carrying that.”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“You definitely are.”
Dream hesitates. He looks back at the stranger. Mischief glints in deep brown eyes. A challenge lurks in them, too. No one speaks until Dream realizes something else. “Wait. Why are you here? Don’t you need to buy something, too?”
“Not really,” the other man shrugs. Inspecting his counterpart up and down, he adds, “I think I found exactly what I was looking for already.”
Dream does not know how to interpret his tone, so he just stammers, “Okay, then I’ll - we’ll just - let’s just go to the cash registers.” Pushing the bag of cat food into his elbow, Dream frees his other arm to hold the stranger’s hand again. This time his palm feels warm and sweaty, and his heart races inexplicably fast.
When the pair reaches the cash registers, they wait in line behind another customer. Dream places a divider on the moving belt to separate the bag of cat food from the groceries of the customer in front of him. Meanwhile the stranger releases his hand and faces the cashier. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Do you have anything to write with?”
“Sure.” Briefly the cashier stops scanning the customer’s items. They tear a small sheet of paper off the top of a miniature notepad, then they offer the stranger a pen from their shirt pocket. “Here you go.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
While the cashier finishes the transaction and moves on to scanning the cat food, Dream notices the stranger departing from his side. With faint intrigue, he tries to split his attention between opening his wallet and glancing at the other man. Now his counterpart is scribbling something on the piece of paper.
“Sir?” Impatiently the cashier summons Dream’s attention. “You can swipe your card.”
“Great.” He focuses on paying instead. Once the transaction is complete, he slides his wallet back into his pocket and retrieves the bag of cat food.
As the two men leave, the cashier waves, “Have a good day, gentlemen!”
“Thanks.”
“You, too!”
Together Dream and the stranger hold hands for the last time. They step through the sliding glass doors that lead outside. He half-expects that the man will accompany him to his car, too, but as they approach the concrete curb and the parking lot, the stranger slows down.
Taking the hint, Dream releases his hand and unfolds a pair of sunglasses. “It was nice to meet you, dude. I hope we made your ex-boyfriend and his new guy really jealous.”
The stranger regards him with a strange, self-conscious expression. Without replying, the other man offers a folded piece of paper: the note from the cash register. He slips it into Dream’s grasp with the same perplexing smile before he waves and turns to leave. Without an explanation or a goodbye, the stranger jogs away.
Bewildered, Dream lingers between the building and its parking lot. His gaze drifts from the shrinking figure to the paper in his hands. Adjusting his grip on the bag of cat food so it rests in his elbow again, he unfolds the note.
most people call me Montero
but you can call me anytime ;)
Below the message is a phone number.
This is the moment when Dream finally learns the truth. As if he had turned on a light in a darkened room to banish its shadows, he connects all of the puzzle pieces. With a nearly-empty parking lot before him, with a nearly-empty grocery store behind him, and with ghostly fingers still cradling his hand, Dream searches his memory. During the entire time at the grocery store, he cannot recall seeing a single couple… other than himself and Montero, of course.
There was no ex-boyfriend. He and his “new guy” never existed. The stranger simply approached a man who was as handsome as himself and asked to hold his hand.
“But you can call me anytime.” Dream’s heart pounds as those written words burn themselves into his skull. Stunned and flustered, he reaches the profound realization that he just experienced the most ridiculously smooth flirting in the world. Montero is a genius, and Dream loves that.