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You don't plan on Ryland Grace.
You don't mean to get attached. It sneaks up on you, and you don't notice until it's too late.
It starts like this :
You move to a new city. Then another city. Then another one.
You don't try to get a regular job.
You develop a little routine - you like to go to the nearby bar and watch people. Overhear their everyday conversations.
It almost makes you feel like one of them.
A real human being.
Sometimes, you see people get more drunk than they can handle.
Today is one of those days. There's a man sitting alone who has been drinking vodka steadily. He sways noticeably as he gets up to go to the toilet. He hasn't stopped by the time he comes back.
Just as you're considering nudging the bartender towards the situation, you see something that makes you pause. There's another man, sitting alone in the corner, eyeing the drunk man like a piece of meat. As you watch, the man in the corner stands up from his seat and walks up to the drunk man, whistling casually.
You stand up. Your seat is closer to the drunk man. You reach his table first.
"Come on," you say to him. "I'll drive you home."
The drunk man picks up a traffic cone from the road and insists on taking it with him. You let him - it's not your problem.
You are grateful for the man's drunken whims when a few minutes later, he empties his stomach into the traffic cone instead of your car seat.
Turns out, you're in the same neighborhood. You watch imperviously as the man drops down the traffic cone right outside his own door (again, not your problem), struggles to open the door, and then staggers over the threshold. You close the door and leave.
Even after the man leaves, the car smells terrible. You open all the windows and take a short drive.
It's not that you forget about what happened, exactly. It's just that you don't dwell on it. It's a one and done thing. You don't think you'll ever see the guy again.
So you are surprised when the next weekend, the formerly drunk man approaches you at the bar.
"Uh, hi," says the man. "Were you…?"
You nod.
"Oh, god," says the man, appearing appropriately embarrassed. "Listen, can I buy you a drink? You know, as a thank-you. I, uh, made a fool of myself the other night, right?"
Again, you nod.
"Shit, I am so sorry about that," says the man. "It's just that I've had a long day. A long week, really. A long month."
He laughs, self-deprecating.
"But you don't want to hear about that."
At this point, you choose to speak up.
"What if I do?"
"You- what?" says the man.
"Buy me a drink," you say. "And tell me about it."
You've been sitting at corners of bars, listening to people talk among themselves for a while, now. If one of them is willing to share about his life to you, you're willing to listen.
Maybe you just want to feel like a part of the human race once again, the way you had a long time ago, just for a short while.
The man talks.
His name is Grace. He used to be in the academia, believing in some apparently outlandish idea that you have no context to judge. The more the people around him tried to talk him out of it, the more he doubled down on it. Eventually this ended in an explosive outburst at an international conference, which was, unfortunately, near the end of his contract.
His contract was not renewed.
Afterwards, as best as you can understand it, his name was basically blacklisted from the industry. He spent weeks searching for a job, until he finally got an interview - and then he bombed it. Hence the drinking.
In other words, he's a man trying to reinvent himself. Just like you.
By the time you part ways, you've promised to meet at the same table next week.
As you take on various temporary jobs - trying to stick to legitimate ones, these days - Grace also starts seeking out other arenas. Eventually, he brings up that he's been taking a teaching course.
"It's only a hundred and twenty hours of coursework, and then you can begin teaching," says Grace. "It'll be something to do while I look for something better. It can't be that difficult, right?"
You consider this. You've never had a problem bonding with a kid, but a whole class of them sounds different. "Might not want to underestimate it."
"Eh, they're just kids."
Famous last words.
"You were right," says Grace on the weekend he began teaching. He looks haggard. "I underestimated this job."
You cock your head.
"It was horrible," continues Grace, clutching his temple. "I nearly made a kid cry."
Ah.
"And I couldn't even get them to understand the difference between mass and weight!" says Grace. "I mean, it's not like I was trying to explain general relativity!"
"What's the difference?" you ask.
"What?"
"Between mass and weight."
"Are you actually asking me?" says Grace. "Or are you just making fun of me?"
You look at his despondent face and let yourself smile, a little.
"Wow," says Grace. "Okay. Alright. We're doing this."
The rest of the night is spent with Grace trying to illustrate various middle school physics concepts - first by writing on the paper napkin, then by drawing, and eventually by play-acting the concepts using various items from the bar table.
When the bartender comes around to tell you that the bar is closing, both of you are surprised at how quickly the time has passed.
It's around this time that you begin to take jobs lasting for longer than a couple of days.
Grace gets into the whole teaching thing.
Once, he accidentally says 'fuck!' in front of the kids. He's so embarrassed by this that he starts training himself not to use swear words. You two make a swear jar & promise to eat someplace else when it's full. It never quite fills up, though - it stalls around two thirds of the way. When Grace commits to an idea, he really commits.
You start going to different places with him anyway. Restaurants. Parks. Driving for driving's sake. Once, a drive-in theater.
Grace starts inviting you to his home. Ostensibly it's to practice for his science classes. You like doing it - you don't know much about science, apart from what you learned by fixing cars. When it comes to theoretical scientific knowledge, you are pretty much on par with a middle school student.
But sometimes it's just to hang out together. To watch TV at the couch and eat dinner together.
It's nice. Domestic.
Feelings sneak up on you.
You find yourself wanting to touch his hand, when you're driving and he's in the passenger's seat. When you're watching movies at his couch and he starts to doze off, you find yourself wishing that he'd lean onto your shoulder.
It's different from your past experience in several ways. For one thing, it's not as easy to discern whether you're on the same page about things when you're both men.
You don't even know if Grace likes men. If he's even interested in other people like that. Grace seems busy with living his life. He has his friends, and now he has his kids.
You don't want to ruin a good thing by being hasty, not when you thought you'd never get to have something like this ever again. You know that you take up room in Grace's heart, and that he isn't seeking a partner. You can be content with that.
Grace gets mugged one day.
"I didn't even have any cash on me," he rants as you check him for damage. A bit of torn clothing, nothing else. "They saw that my wallet was practically empty, and they still took it! I mean, come on!"
They'd held him at knife-point. Your blood boils.
You leave his house early.
You guess that a group of muggers who wound up with an empty wallet would hang around the same street corner waiting for another victim.
You are proven correct.
It doesn't take a lot of effort to rough them up.
"If I ever see any of you around here again," you say as you brandish the knife that you took from them for dramatic effect. "I'll be returning this through your guts."
The muggers had half a dozen wallets. You put them all inside the nearest mailbox.
Grace's wallet returns to him a few days later. Grace is confused but happy. You're happy too - you solved a problem for Grace, and you didn't let things escalate uncontrollably. You're doing okay.
One day, at the bar, Grace appears troubled. You nudge at him to talk.
"I can't talk about this here," says Grace. "Let's go back to my place."
The car ride home is silent.
"It's about family," says Grace, once they're sat down at the kitchen table. "Or, well, he was family. I don't know about now… gosh, I haven't thought about him in years. He was… well, he was in prison."
A sense of deja vu hits you so hard that you almost wince. You try to ignore it.
"I should be happy," continues Grace, unaware of your internal turmoil as he speaks of his own. "He meant the world to me once, you know? Not even just that, I owe him my life. My life. I happen to be quite attached to it!"
"But for years I thought he'd died in prison," he says. "Turns out he didn't. He just pretended to have for some insane reason. And now he's back and he wants to meet and I don't know what to do. I don't even know how he found me."
You feel like you're inside a TV show. As if you're outside of your body, watching yourself from a faraway distance.
How is it that this is happening to you again?
Grace sighs, apparently having finished talking. You cut to the chase.
"Do you still love him?"
Grace gives it some thought.
"I don't know," he says, sounding dejected. "I was so young when I saw him for the last time, you know? People change. How can I be sure I still know him?"
For a moment you entertain the thought of shutting down this whole thing before it can begin. Of asking Grace to abandon this man. Of asking him to run away with you.
Then you think about how Irene had slapped you in the face.
"If you decide to go meet him, let me help," you say instead. "I can be on standby. If he gives you any trouble, I'll help you get away."
By now, you've hinted at your checkered past - only bits and pieces, but enough for Grace to know that you have the means to do this.
A small smile appears on Grace's face.
"Thanks," he says. "That actually makes me feel better about going to meet him."
You weren't kidding about being on standby. You and Grace choose the place - a cafe with outside tables where you can keep an eye on the ongoings while inside your car.
As you watch, a bearded man approaches Grace, seemingly casually. Grace looks up and briefly seems lost for words. It's obvious - this is the man.
For a moment you try to imagine how you might fare against this man. It's hard to tell because he's dressed in layers, but he seems fairly built. His movements seem casual, not overly deliberate- which could either mean that he's not a threat, or an exceptionally dangerous one.
Overall, you have a feeling that this man might not be easy to handle, should things go south. You'd be better off waiting until he gets into a car and on the road - there you'll have the upper hand.
Grace and the man talk. For several minutes, Grace seems to get more and more upset. Your hands tighten on the wheel.
But then, eventually, Grace seems to ease up.
The man lays his hand on the table. Grace reaches forward and holds it.
You let out a deep breath as you watch the scene, and try to let go of the tension filling your body.
A moment later, Grace excuses himself and leaves for the restroom.
Your phone rings.
"Are you still nearby?" says Grace. "Well, I think things went well! Maybe I was being overly paranoid. Thanks for indulging me."
Dismissed.
You leave the parking lot, although you hang around nearby, just in case.
Eventually the sky turns dark. You check your phone and see that Grace left a message letting you know that everything ended well and he went home safely.
You go home.
You meet up with Grace the very next day.
"I guess Court's back in my life," he says. He looks pleased and excited.
You listen as Grace explains the situation. Apparently this Court character is in some kind of trouble with the law, so he's trying to lay low. But he also has a kid who needs special care, which is why he tried reaching out to Grace.
"So, it wasn't even because he missed me. He just needs someone he can trust to help him take care of the kid," says Grace. "Maybe I should be mad about that, but honestly I'm just relieved to know that he's still the kind of person who'd do anything to protect a kid. Still the same Court I knew."
A kid. Once again, you feel like history is repeating itself.
"I think I should try to be his family again," says Grace.
"You should," you say.
Grace smiles at you. You try to smile back.
You begin to stay away from Grace.
You make excuses. Turn meetups into phone calls.
Once or twice, you hear the man - Court - over the phone. You think you even hear the little girl, once.
This time, it seems like things are going well. It doesn't seem like there's any need for you to involve yourself.
So you continue to stay away.
Grace got his happy ending.
You don't want to ruin it.
You can't avoid Grace forever, though. Nor do you want to. You're selfish that way.
You'll just have to remind yourself to be content with what you can have.
You agree to visit Grace. Watch TV, have dinner together, just like the old days.
Except, of course, that his family will be there.
As long as you keep up the act, though, things shouldn't be awkward. It's not like last time - Grace only ever thought of you as a friend, you're pretty sure, and there's no reason that Court should suspect anything is amiss, especially since you're both men.
Still, you'd rather talk alone with Grace.
Which is why you're on the phone with him even as you're walking towards his house.
Later, you'd look back at yourself critically. You'd think about how distracted you were by the call, by the sound of Grace's voice. You shouldn't have let your guard down, not when you're outside the safety of your car.
All useless thoughts.
What happens is this :
One moment, you're listening to Grace go on about the newest earth science project his class is doing. It's very cute. You think you even had a smile on your face.
The next moment, something hits you, hard, in the back of your head.
Everything goes dark.
You wake up at what looks like a warehouse.
It takes less than a moment to take in your surroundings and understand the situation.
It's those god damn muggers that you beat up a few weeks earlier.
You almost want to laugh. This is just embarrassing.
"You woke up?" says one of them, the one that looks like their leader. "You ready to get a knife to your gut?"
Alright, maybe you should have just killed them. Maybe you shouldn't have left any loose ends. You tried to be a better person for once and look where it got you. Tied to a fucking chair in a warehouse when you should have been at Grace's house.
Grace.
"Where's my phone," you say. Grace would be worrying.
"You want to know where your phone is?" says the leader. "You want it back, huh? You want it back?"
He goes on for a while on some weird tirade. You assess your surroundings. The chair is wooden and not stuck to the floor. You could probably break it with enough force.
Four guys with two knives. You could probably handle them, but most likely not without getting stabbed.
You really would like to know where your phone is.
Just then, everything goes dark.
"Who turned off the light?" shouts the leader. "What's- urgh!"
This is followed by panic from everyone else, until they, too, go down one by one.
You hear footsteps coming close to you.
"You alright?" says a voice.
You recognize him from over the phone. It's Court.
"Fine," you say as Court cuts the ties. "They dead?"
"Nah," says Court. "I'm trying to lay low."
He finishes cutting. You stand up and follow the sound of his footsteps to the exit.
Court closes the warehouse door and locks it for good measure. He fishes into his pocket and takes something out. "Gum?" he offers.
You shake your head.
"Suit yourself," he says, popping both pieces into his mouth. He fishes into his pocket once again, takes out something larger, and tosses it at you.
It's your phone.
"Thanks," you say.
"No problem," says Court. He points to a car nearby. "That's our ride."
"Mind if I drive?" you ask, because at this point, you'd really like some element of control over how your life is going.
"Go ahead," says Court.
"Thanks for getting me out," you say as you fasten your seatbelt.
"Don't know about that," says Court. "Honestly, it looked like you could have gotten away on your own."
"Not without taking some hits," you say honestly. Figures that this guy could make a roughly correct assessment of you at first glance.
"Right," says Court. He gives you a measured look. "Wouldn't want to ruin your good looks right before the date, huh?"
It's like the world has turned upside down.
You feel cold. Nauseous.
"That's not," you stop. Try again. "You don't have to worry about that."
"…I don't?" says Court.
"He doesn't have any feelings for me," you manage.
"He doesn't?" repeats Court.
"He doesn't," you say firmly. "He doesn't care about me like that."
"Uh, you do realize he asked me to come get you, right?" asks Court. He sounds incredulous. Disbelieving.
You're glad you're behind the wheel. This conversation is not heading the way you like. It'd have been hard to keep calm if you didn't have your hands on the wheel.
You're extremely aware that this is a man capable of incredible violence. Grace trusts him, but Grace also trusts you. If this man were to turn against Grace…
You think back to the scene a few moments ago. You're not sure you could kill this man, even if you were to try.
"We're friends, he has no other feelings for me," you stress. "You have nothing to worry about."
"Uh, listen, just so you know, I'm not trying to give you the shovel talk or anything," says Court. "That'd be hypocritical of me anyway."
Now you're confused. You keep silent, hoping that he'd elaborate.
"Did we get started on the wrong foot?" says Court. "Listen, I won't say I wasn't… concerned about you, hypocritical or not. But at the end of the day, you were the one who was there for my little brother when he needed help, and I appreciate that."
The world turns upside down once again.
"Little brother," you repeat.
"Yeah?" says Court. "Don't tell me you thought he's the older one?"
"No," you say. "I, uh."
There's a long pause.
"No," says Court. "No, you can't mean- did you think- ?!"
You speed up.
"Oh my gosh," says Grace. "What happened?!"
"It's not our blood," says Court as he locks the door behind him. "Well, it's his blood, a little. But none of this is mine."
Grace pales. "Did anyone die?"
"No, and they didn't see me either," says Court, methodically taking off his outerwear. "Your friend might want to watch his back for a while though, these guys seem stupid enough to try the same failing strategy twice."
"Are you okay?" Grace says to you.
You're more than okay. In fact, it's all you can do to keep from smiling.
"Yeah, um, you two might want to talk in private," says Court. "I'll be in the shower."
"What?" says Grace, even as he leads you to the sofa. He pulls out the emergency kit, soaks the cotton in disinfectant and dabs it at your bruises.
The slight pain helps make everything feel real. You can't help it - you smile.
"…Alright," says Grace. "What is going on?"
As gently as you can, you take his face in your hands.
Then you kiss him.
"Hey, I don't- I don't want to question this," says Grace, a moment later. His face is adorably flushed. "But what's going on? What happened? Why did your phone call get cut off?"
Right. You should probably explain the situation.
"There were some people who held a grudge against me," you say. "They caught up to me while you were on the phone. Tried to beat me up to teach me a lesson."
"Oh fudge," says Grace. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
You shake your head. "Your brother arrived at the right time."
His brother. That makes you smile again. You try to reach for a kiss one more time.
"Oh," says Grace. The look on his face changes. He avoids the kiss. "So you're grateful."
"Yes," you say without understanding. Then you get it.
"No," you correct yourself. You take his hands and caress them. "I could have handled them on my own. It was just cleaner with your brother."
"He is a professional, I hear," says Grace. He looks uncertain. "Are you saying that that's not what made you change your mind? You were avoiding me for weeks!"
"I didn't know he was your brother until today," you say. "I thought he was your husband."
Grace stares at you.
"What?!"
"It's happened to me before," you explain.
"I'm sorry?" says Grace. "What on earth made you think - did I never tell you he's my brother?"
"You didn't."
"Christmas eve," says Grace. "Wait- so you were- what- trying to do the right thing?"
"You seemed happy," you say.
Grace stares at you, seemingly lost for words.
It's a cute look on him. You reach for a kiss again. This time he doesn't pull away.
"Can I come out?" asks Court from the restroom. "Are you done talking? Or, uh, talking?"
Grace makes a high-pitched noise that suggests he had entirely forgotten about Court's presence. "Uh-"
"Please tell me you're at least clothed," says Court.
"We just talked!" Grace squeaks out, not quite honestly.
"Riiight," says Court. "I'm just going to go straight to the kitchen. I think I smell something burning?"
Grace blinks. Then he gasps.
"The chicken!"
The following dinner is great, even with the burnt chicken.
Court tells you stories from Grace's - Ryland's - childhood. Stories of him and his twin getting themselves into minor trouble. You can read between the lines and sense that their childhood wasn't all fun and games, but you appreciate getting to hear about it regardless.
You also get to meet the girl - Claire. She's not so young that you can bond without words, but you think you managed to make a good impression.
Everyone gives Grace a hard time for burning their main dish as he splutters to defend himself.
After the dinner, you, as the guest, get to rest on the couch while the brothers wash the dishes. You talk with Claire some more and learn about her favorite music.
Claire goes to bed early. So does Court, with a wink. You stay on the couch with Grace, watching some cheesy science fiction movie. Grace points out the scientific flaws while you play with his hands.
After a while, Grace leans onto your shoulder and quietly dozes off.
You stare down at his hands, clasped safely within yours, and marvel.
The next day, you begin job searching again.
You think it's about time you start looking into staying around for good.