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There were only about forty minutes left in Fabian's shift at the Savers Drug Mart, but the store had been dead for the past hour. Fabian had actually been bored enough to go in and switch out all the gross smudged-up tester products for new ones, re-organize all the misplaced nail polishes back into their proper slots, and line up all the loose products, pushed neatly to the front of the shelf so everything looked fully stocked. In other words, he was bored as hell and beyond ready to go home.
He was checking his own makeup in the mirror on the desk when he heard the automatic sliding doors open behind him. He turned, saying "Good evening" as cheerfully as he possibly could, then legitimately perked up as the new customer approached: a tall, long-legged trans woman with long red hair spilling out from under a slouchy toque. She was wearing a green puffer coat over a wrap dress with leggings and knee-high black boots, and her makeup was— well. No disrespect from Fabian, she had put commendable effort into it, but she was an extremely pale redhead and Fabian knew all too well that, despite the growing Fenty Effect, it could still be challenging to find the right shades if you happened to fall outside the very basic demographic being targeted by most major cosmetics companies. Still cute, though.
Fabian hoped she was here to buy makeup. This was a pretty boring job most of the time, and most customers just wanted to be left alone to pick out their items or shoplift in peace. If they wanted expert advice about trendy looks, they were probably going to one of the fancy shops at the Eaton Center like Sephora or Detox Market, not the Savers Drug Mart. But every now and then there was a customer who really appreciated Fabian's willingness to share his expertise and guidance, and Fabian especially liked being able to help fellow members of the community, queer or gender non-conforming people who might not be comfortable in those fancier shops.
He watched as she approached, head down, hands clutched around the strap of her purse, and turned into the makeup aisle. She was probably just passing through, but Fabian spoke up anyway. "Let me know if I can help you find anything, okay?"
Her head came up with a jerk, eyes wide, as if Fabian had interrupted some deep train of thought. A weird pang of instant recognition lanced through Fabian as their eyes met, and his lips parted in surprise. He knew this woman, but he couldn't put a name to the face, which was strange. Yeah, Toronto was Toronto, but Fabian hadn't met that many strikingly tall trans women with gorgeous natural red hair and soft hazel eyes—
"Fabian?" she said, almost breathlessly, and then swallowed, straightening up a bit. "You probably don't— I don't— It's been a while."
"Oh my god!" Fabian said, jaw dropping, because suddenly he absolutely did recognize her. That South Shore accent! And those eyes— Fabian knew them, had daydreamed about that exact nervous gaze for years. That imploring look had frozen him in place, that night on the ferry, one of the strangest nights of his life. The night he'd deluded himself into dreaming that the big, awkward, quiet hockey player who'd come to his concert might actually like Fabian, might actually be about to lean down and kiss him—
Holy shit!
Fabian almost blurted Ryan? but stopped himself, hands flying up instead to gesture in surprise. "You— it is you! God, I almost didn't, I mean— it's been so long, wow!"
"Yeah, I— I look different, I guess," she said, staring down at her feet, then suddenly startled all over and looked up again. "Oh! It's— it's Rhiannon, now. Or just Ry."
"Rhiannon! That's so pretty!" Fabian said, relieved that he didn't need to awkwardly inquire. She just nodded shyly. Smiling, Fabian walked out from behind the counter and stopped a couple of feet in front of Rhiannon, who didn't move at all, her hands still clutching at her purse. She had a few faint white scars scattered over her knuckles and short nails that looked professionally manicured, tinted a subtle dusty rose. Fabian looked her up and down, shaking his head admiringly. "Rhiannon fucking Price! Look at you, girl! You look amazing!"
Rhiannon blushed red, but her face finally relaxed into a warm smile. "I, um. Thanks. You— you look good too."
"Thank you," Fabian said, fluttering his eyelashes. "Always nice to hear! Hey, are you living in the Village now? Oh my god!" he said, bouncing on his heels when Rhiannon nodded. "Ry, we have to hang out! I'm playing a show on Saturday at the Lighthouse. You should totally come."
"Oh! You still play?" Rhiannon asked, her eyes lighting up. "I mean, like— your own songs?"
"Oh, yeah. This is just my side hustle," Fabian said, gesturing around at the makeup section. "Music is my life."
"That's great," she said, "that's great! You were always so talented, I thought."
"Thank you!" Fabian said. He wondered what Rhiannon was doing for work these days. Obviously not playing hockey! "Yeah, it's a big venue, and it's a fundraiser for a shelter, so it should be fun."
"Cool. Um, I'll see if I can," Rhiannon said. She glanced down at the floor, then up at Fabian. "Well... I have to get to the pharmacy, but, it was. It was really nice to see you."
"Totally!" Fabian said. "Listen, I mean it about the show, we have to catch up! Can I have your number? I'll send you the info about the venue, would that be okay?"
Rhiannon stared at him, then blinked and dug into the pocket of her coat for her phone, unlocking it and handing it to Fabian. "Um. Sure. Thank you."
"Absolutely no big deal!" Fabian said, quickly putting his number in and sending himself a text. "I'll text you, okay?"
He handed Rhiannon's phone back. She smiled, ducking her head shyly as she sidled past him in the aisle. "Okay," she said, backing away towards the pharmacy. "Thanks again. Nice to see you."
Fabian watched her go, then retreated back behind his counter. Wow, he thought, pressing the backs of his hands gently to his heated cheeks. Yep, he was definitely blushing. Wow. All of a sudden he felt seventeen again, confused as hell about his own feelings but totally sure that the entire world or at least all of Halifax could absolutely tell he was furiously, reluctantly crushing on a big, sweet, quiet hockey player.
Well. Points to baby Fabian. His earliest crushes had been guys from his high school friend group, band geeks and emo kids, guys who might kiss a boy at a party for clout but were still, deep down, absolutely your stereotypical high school gay boy crushes, meaning: straight boys who couldn't really return Fabian's feelings. How funny, he thought, how adorable that the one outlier among his teenage infatuations— the hockey player that Fabian had found himself unwillingly obsessed with when he was seventeen— had turned out to be Fabian's first crush who, in retrospect, wasn't actually a straight boy.
Rhiannon had always been different, though, and it had always thrown Fabian for a loop. He'd spent his teenage years feeling naked and vulnerable and obvious in his queerness, like a hermit crab without any shell. He'd put up so many walls to try to protect himself. He'd told himself he didn't care what anyone thought of him, least of all some big dumb jock. Because if Fabian didn't care, then he couldn't be hurt.
And then Rhiannon had showed up at his concert when no one else had cared... had stuck around afterward and walked him home... stood next to him on the ferry, the boat gently rising and falling underneath them, making their arms and shoulders brush against each other... They had gazed into each others' eyes, and for a moment, for just one moment, Fabian had believed something might happen...
It had been one of the most stupidly romantic and confusing moments of his life.
Fabian had told himself, over the years, that he was deluding himself. There was no way that Ryan Price had ever felt anything like that. Fabian had made it all up in his head, overwhelmed with the pride and joy of his solo performance mixed with the melancholy of his family's absence... and the wordless, bewildered gratitude that one single solitary person had come to see him, just him. Had come all that way, made the effort, just to see Fabian play.
Now Fabian had to reconsider everything. He'd been dismissing the possibility for over a decade... but had Rhiannon been just as disconcerted and overwhelmed? Had she actually liked Fabian back, or had it been one of those confusing 'is it gender envy or a crush' type things? He doubted seventeen-year-old Rhiannon had met a lot of guys in her hockey social circles who'd proudly worn makeup and nail polish.
He couldn't help wondering now. Was Rhiannon a lesbian? Did she like men at all? Had there been a vibe just now in the makeup aisle, or was Fabian imagining things...? He was probably one hundred percent imagining things.
It was probably irrelevant anyway. Even if Rhiannon did date guys, Fabian doubted she'd be interested in him.
After going through a lot of confusing phases, Fabian had kind of given up on labeling his own sexuality. In practice he tended to hook up with and date men almost exclusively, not necessarily because his preference was that much stronger, it was just that— well, women who were attracted to men tended to take one look at a flamboyant femme guy wearing makeup and instantly assign him to the "gay best friend" role, not consider him as a potential date. And how was Fabian supposed to head that off at the pass, just blurt out "Interesting fact about me, I have sex with women too!" whenever he met a woman he might like? There were definitely guys who could pull that off in a fun, flirty way, but Fabian had never found a way to casually convey that information that didn't feel like shouting in someone's face, "hey, we just met, and I'm thinking about you sexually!"
He sighed, then looked up, spotting Rhiannon just as she was about to leave the store, tucking her bag of prescriptions carefully into her purse. As the automatic doors slid open, she paused and looked back over her shoulder at Fabian. She gave him a bashful little smile and a wave.
Fabian waved back, his heart pounding in his chest, and then Rhiannon slipped out into the night and was gone.