1.2

Fast-forward to my second Christmas in Bridgeport. I never celebrated it. In fact, I thought that was a taboo among all daemons until Katelyn chimed in. Her family had funerals and feasts about chaos and Eid (because they liked it), so I started to doubt the Ironstars.

Our first “Christmas” involved a lot of beer and watching horror movies. Yes, we invited Victor over. He didn’t celebrate Christmas because his family had to tend to Christmas car crashes. We were an inseparable trio with Tom and Matty simply along for the ride.

With Kate and Tom as an “item”, they spent Christmas at his old house with his old buddies. This included his ex-girlfriend, but she and Kate were still friends so I couldn’t say anything about it. We were all still neighbors so I couldn’t tell them not to meet there or anywhere else, really. It’s not like I had to keep everyone under house arrest.

I tried, but Matty and I didn’t get invited. He scoffed. He didn’t want to be there anyways.

So to set the scene: Bridgeport is lonely on Christmas. Most of the city retreats to the suburbs where their parents and grandparents live for their only quiet day of the year. And then there was Matty and myself, who were drinking beers on a children’s playground.

“…and that is why I didn’t go to my mum’s funeral,” he said. Everyone in his life was cold to him, I’m sad he didn’t want to be a better person instead. But I almost welcomed the break from Kate’s exuberance and Devin Ashton blowing up my phone. Yes, Matthew Hamming rejected him. Everyone could see that coming and he was oblivious and heartbroken. I toyed with the idea of being an upcoming celebrity’s new plaything. Being not a mere couple but an item, complete with awful ship names for us.

That wasn’t what I envied about Kate. I thought she deserved a normal guy who delivered mail or pizzas instead. But she still had her moments of being able to confide in Tom and relate to him on a deeper level.

Oh well, if there was a man for me in Bridgeport, it wasn’t on that day. He was probably giving gifts to his nieces and nephews and being pestered about when he would get married. Whoever he was. Better him than me, but I should have called my mother too.

There was a faint blare of police sirens in the distance. I wasn’t worried since we weren’t on a busy street.

“Put the beer away, you’re gonna get yelled at,” said Matty. We got off the swings and I stuffed the empty bottle into one of my pockets.

“Taken from experience?”

“I don’t need to tell you a story here.”

They must have been after someone else or feeling the holiday cheer. Good thing, because I wasn’t going to listen to Matty. I was a being above this Earth entirely, or so Uncle Pilona made me feel about it. He still needed to bring me back into space, though. Now that was a story that could reel another guy in. My stories about ballet and the art world were getting stale.

Now, the real reason we left Marina Park is that my butt went numb in the cold. And they expected kids to play at that park year-round? Matty laughed and then his did the same.

What I liked about Bridgeport went beyond those cold, grey skies. It was the ability to be loud and open with none of the “wrong” people remembering it. And on a day where the city stood still, I felt it down to my bones. It only amounted to dancing on the sidewalk, but I’d never do that in Twinbrook.

“See? I would have been a star if they let me land on my left foot all the time,” I said. I was glad I could even move at all. The last couple of years made me feel so flabby. And it was a feeling Matty would never–

“Yeah, you sure brim with confidence,” he said. “And it’s why none of your plans work.”

“Well, I’ve made more money than you.” My cheeks burned red. It sounded mean, but I was coming off the high of selling a big clay urn that month. “I’ve banged two of your old castmates too.”

“Wait, William?” I nodded. Ah, the vampire/cop/reality TV star. He wasn’t a fan favorite but a lot of viewers had a crush on him, and he chose to spend a night with me! We saw a movie together and things got a little more intense. Which maybe was illegal but he didn’t use his power against me. He did not let me see his handcuffs though. “Being alone is better.”

“Easy for you to say, no one’s made you feel like you deserve to be alone forever,” I said.

“That implies I haven’t been.”

Well, I knew we were going to butt heads a lot. We’d retreat to our studios and whatever Matty did for fun. And it wasn’t like Matty was hostile. But I’d want another sculpting partner in him whenever Tom died, so I had to fix that between the two of us.

At least we agreed on something besides beer and bickering: Chinese takeout. It was cheap enough for Matty and a new freedom for me. It was a weird life not having to justify or exercise off whatever I ate. Sometimes the night could end with sesame chicken. But we got a side of pea shoots and garlic boy choy so it was totally healthy. And afterwards: dancing. The Grind didn’t have an entrance fee, so Matty couldn’t argue against it.

He was not a clubgoer. He sat down with a booklet he kept in his back pocket. It was a local magazine of short stories and poetry he sometimes got published in. I’d love to read it if I wasn’t a borderline illiterate meathead. And by that, I mean that I was easily bored.

I think that was a more fair assessment for my whole mind. I set my standards high in Bridgeport for everything, from the men to the public transit. Yes, I put in a complaint whenever a subway car smelled like pee, even if it was my own (there were some crazy nights). Yes, I thought The Grind needed new ownership so it could get spruced up. At least there were always interesting things that turned up there.

Or people that made my heart stop.

Where to begin? It must have been the idea of a man in a suit. Most of my partners had been as disheveled as I was. In my head I didn’t have a “type” of man I liked the most, but maybe there was a type forming. Dark, handsome, and yet completely unassuming. He could have grown up in any backwater town just like me.

All I had to do was pick a greeting. It was so hard to mess that one up. I got so many phone numbers in Bridgeport without any effort. I was unstoppable and not banned from any dating apps yet (yet!).

With a cocktail, I’d seem a lot cooler. He ordered a drink from the start, so it must have been a rough holiday for him. But there were some people who were too handsome to have any real problems.

I slid onto the table to wow him with my spontaneous attitude. But I really hated the chairs at The Grind.

“Uh, it was so quiet in here tonight,” he said.

“Yeah, I’d rather have my pick in the crowd.” Was that a slight against this man? That I wouldn’t notice him in a crowded club of other sweaty guys? That was untrue.

I took an awkward chug from my glass while thinking about it, forgetting about the straw. And he didn’t have anything to say back. The courage to say I’d let you climb all over me vanished. Make out with me against the grossest wall in the men’s bathroom, you know the one. No, still wouldn’t come out. And I’d feel worse if I let him slip through my fingers. Maybe I should have complimented his suit.

“You know, blue looks nice on you,” I said.

“Thanks, I actually just bought this on a whim. I thought the fit would be terrible but you know what they say about good tailors.”

“I…do.” I didn’t. I never went to one. Turns out I fit into things off the shelf like it was made for me. Oh my god, what if he could read my thoughts? Of course I liked to brag about myself, but that had to be rationed smartly.

It was not long before I found myself in the men’s room. Alone. Checking for text messages that never arrived. Mystery man seemed a lot happier without me.

“So what did I tell you?” Matty asked.

“How can this be about confidence? It all went away!” I was curled up on a gnarly bathroom floor, chewed gum and worse things sticking to my back pocket. And he washed his hands…no wonder I was such a loser that night. Somehow more lowly than Matty. “And for the guy who happens to be my type. I don’t even have a type!”

“I think you’re in love,” he said, sneering.

“I don’t think I’m meant for that.” I wanted to be meant for it, but it wasn’t like I was making any strides towards it. It must have been a thing I told myself so I’d feel better.

“He literally took your breath away.”

“Still is…”

“You know, I think he’s worked with William before,” said Matty. Was this guy a cop or an investigator? I could see firefighter too…

“You’re shitting me, Matty.”

“Nah, he had to sign a release for the show once. His name was…” The pause took forever. “…I didn’t watch the final cut.”

“And you forgot him?” I asked.

“It’s a big cast and I don’t want to get laid with him. Not even if we cuddled afterwards.”

“Yeah, but you’re missing out.” I exhaled and wondered if I was in a better state of mind. But I was filthy. “I think I’ll stay in here.”

“I’d leave if I didn’t care about you,” Matty said. “That’s all I’m gonna say.”

After that moment, I was convinced that Matty worked his magic. It felt like an eternity and I wanted to hide, but it was me and mystery man. I still wish he remembered his name. It would have helped immensely.

“Don’t look at me,” I mumbled.

“You have the weirdest friends,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you alright? You look like you saw a corpse.”

“I mean, look at me? What else can I manage to get? Everyone normal forgets me when I’m done with them. And then I forget to ask people their names when I actually need them. And I sat on your table.”

He took my hand, gently helping up from the floor. The lighting in the bathroom wasn’t incredible, but I saw what mattered the most: his round, sparkling eyes and lovely smile.

“That was pretty bold of you…and it’s Romeo,” he said.

“Well come up to my balcony and slap me in the face,” I said. “Wasn’t Heathcliff some guy in a book too?”

“Or that song by Kate Bush.”

“Who?”

We ended up leaning on the wall and talking for a bit. I wouldn’t turn down the chance to talk with men I liked, and it was the only way I’d get to do what I wanted with them. But it was never so humble. I had been around a filthy city all day, and Romeo had no qualms about ruining his new suit.

Oh where to start with Romeo? He had a clear, booming voice. When he spoke, I didn’t feel like I was alone in a bathroom. Or at least it felt like listening to a nice audiobook. He said he worked as an investigator but was cagy about any of the details. It was the little secrets that made him sexy.

But to keep those in check, I made sure to feel his pockets for handcuffs or a gun when I pinned him against the sink.

And did I lead him into a gross toilet stall? I don’t think he’d admit to it.

And was he a great club dancer? I was jealous, since it wasn’t really my trade. And burning from the inside out. I didn’t even want to dance. I wanted to cuddle in the backseat of his car with him. I wanted to find out where he lived or get his phone number and text him in the dead of night. It was all the things that would involve only the two of us at midnight.

Instead, I left the club at Matty’s behest and didn’t get his phone number. Not even a kiss goodbye. Dancing was fine, but Romeo was a little more wary of getting closer to me without a closed door in the way. I figured it was for his job, his real job. He didn’t sound so impressed with me being a sculptor, but then again, I forgot to drop the right names.

“You have to make this one up to me, Matty,” I said. I moped for our entire walk towards the subway station.

“It’s your own damn fault.”

“But couldn’t you make me feel better about it?”

Solace wouldn’t come from Matty, but from a familiar smell approaching. There was a time when I would light trash fires with Buster and Victor.

It was nice to burn garbage with friends to end that Christmas. They were a constant I could look forward to on any day of the year. I even got a hug from Buster after I told him about Romeo the dreamboat. He was the greatest ex I ever wished for.

I still think it was one of the best holidays I ever had. Even Matty had a good time, in the end. But Romeo was the one man I didn’t forget right afterwards. I thought about a life without resting my head on his shoulder again, or touching his chest, or kissing him all night. It made my skin itch. I’d let Romeo slip through my fingers and marry Apollo instead?

God, that would be a waste of my youth.

“Look Matty, we all need to take a leap of confidence sometimes,” I said to him while we walked around the city. “Please, I need Romeo’s number now if our good friend Will knows it. And you…uh…I guess you could read a book you’ve never read?”

“I already do that all day,” he said.

“Ask a girl out?”

“As if I need that.” He shuffled around in place and then his cheeks turned red. “But I do know someone who might need a Christmas gift. But I don’t know what to give her.”

“Well, I’m not one for reading,” I said. “And maybe she’s not. The last gift I gave was to my grandma, and that one went as well as you’d expect.”

Matty and William fought hard about that number. According to Will, it was a matter of security if I got the wrong one, but soon the blessed ten digits were texted to me. And I felt like I was going to pass out.

“Hey…uh…it’s Heathcliff. I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

“How did you find this number?” He asked.

“Shook down William for it, we have a past I guess,” I said. “So you’re home? Having a good holiday?”

“I’m home, and I did,” said Romeo. “It’s always one of the loneliest days. You see terrorism and mangled bodies on the road, and then you leave your shift and some guy wants sex in a public bathroom.”

“No! I’m sorry, I thought you wanted–”

Romeo chuckled a little. “No, it was amazing! I wasn’t going to track you down but the thought that you’d never come back is–”

“…it kills ya, right?” I said. “Well, it was killing me, maybe we can see each other for the new year.”

And as for Matty, he came home that night after finding a book to give to a friend. I hoped that he made someone’s holiday a little better.

---

Some mood music for this magical holiday time:

Boston please rise for your national anthem.

In my head that song played while Heathcliff looked up to the snow falling, surrounded by beer bottles (the “glass pinecones” are the beer bottles littered around Fenway Park  after a game) but I generally keep to 25 screenshots and also forgot to turn on Seasons since Heathcliff’s save is played without it.