Heart of Light

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by Hawke Oakley


  “Seth?” I called.

  I eased out of my shoes and flicked the light switch on. The first thing I noticed was that the kitchen was spotless. All the food I’d arranged earlier was gone, and somehow the floor looked even cleaner than when I’d left.

  “Seth? Are you here?” I paused. “It’s Isaac.”

  Not a peep.

  Now I was getting worried. I rushed to his bedroom. “I’m opening the door,” I called, letting it linger before I pushed through. As the light in the hall seeped into the room, I was greeted by an unnatural lump underneath the covers.

  “Seth?”

  The lump moved. A moment later a dirty blond head peeked out.

  “What are you doing?” I asked gently.

  “Hi, Isaac,” he said. “I was, uh, sleeping.”

  Not in that position, you weren’t. But I wasn’t going to bring that up. He had an edge to his expression, one similar to the one he had the night before when he first rushed up to me at the bar. Something was wrong.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said instantly.

  This wasn’t going to be easy after all. I asked again, hoping he wouldn’t lash out at my prying. “Are you really alright?”

  “Yeah,” he said again. Then he paused. “Actually, no.”

  There we go.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked.

  Suddenly his face changed. The red rims of his eyes welled up with tears and his lip tightened. He looked away, as if ashamed. “Um. Maybe.”

  “What is it?” I said softly. “Anything.”

  That didn’t seem to help. For some reason, it seemed to make him more upset. A tiny whimper escaped his throat before he shook his head and took a moment to collect himself. I waited for him to speak again.

  “I can’t be here,” he finally said, voice cracking.

  My heart sank. What did he mean by that?

  “Do you want to leave?” I asked.

  “What?” His eyes widened. He shook his hands. “No, no, not like that. I mean, I can’t… be here alone.”

  “Oh.” That was a relief, at least. I quietly let out the breath I’d been holding. It made sense – he’d recently been through a trauma of some kind. Of course he didn’t want to be left by himself like a dog in an apartment. “I understand. Would you like to accompany me to work tomorrow?”

  “Like, at the club?” he asked.

  “Yes. You can hang out with Nico, if you’d like,” I offered. “I can rearrange his shift so he can spend time with you.”

  “No, I don’t to be a burden on him,” he said, shaking his head. “What about you? What do you usually, um, do?”

  I chuckled. “Whatever needs to be done. Lately that involves a lot of sitting around and doing nothing.”

  “Really?” He fidgeted. “But you own the club, right?”

  “Yes, I do. But at this point it practically runs itself. Outside of administrative concerns, it’s usually smooth sailing.” I smiled at him. “Therefore, not a problem if you wish to shadow me for the day.”

  A slow cautious smile crept onto Seth’s face. “Yeah, okay! That sounds good.”

  “Good,” I said with a nod.

  His smile faltered once again, replaced by anxiety.

  “There’s another thing,” he said quietly.

  “What is it?”

  “Please don’t get mad,” he said.

  That took me off guard. “No, of course not,” I promised.

  He looked away, staring at the floor. The words all spilled out at once. “I broke something by accident, this morning in the kitchen, in one of the bowls that you set up for me – I felt really bad, I still feel bad, but I cleaned it up and made sure there’s no pieces leftover on the floor, and then I wiped the tile as best I could so you wouldn’t notice, but then I realized you’d know a bowl was missing so it was pointless, so that’s why I’m telling you about it anyway.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  At first I thought he was joking. Then the weight of his silence settled in and I realized he was completely serious.

  “Oh. Seth, it’s alright,” I said.

  He didn't look convinced. “What do you mean?”

  I shook my head gently. “It’s okay. I don’t care if you broke something by accident. It’s just a bowl.” I smiled. “I can replace it. What matters is that you’re alright. Did you find the dustpan?”

  “No,” he murmured. “I just used my hands.”

  “You did what?”

  I hurried over, reaching out for his hands. He sheepishly extended them and I took them in mine, gingerly inspecting the cuts and scratches on the pads of his fingers. Some of them looked like they had been bleeding until recently. I bit my lip.

  “Are you mad?” he asked quietly.

  “Mad? No, of course not,” I said.

  “Okay. You just look upset,” he murmured.

  I stared into his big blue eyes. He seemed like a cornered animal, wanting to bolt. My gaze softened. “No, Seth, I’m not upset, I’m just concerned. You hurt yourself,” I said. “Here. Let me fix these up for you. May I?”

  He blinked. “Yeah.”

  I took a bottle of antibacterial cleanser and some bandages from underneath the bathroom sink. I carefully cleaned out his wounds until I was satisfied, then bandaged each large cut. He looked like a mummy when it was over, but at least he wouldn’t get an infection.

  He stared at his fingers, turning them over. “Um. Thank you, Isaac. Really.”

  I smiled. “Not a problem at all.”

  Chapter Four

  Seth

  It was weird, being at the club again. Yesterday it was overwhelming; swimming lights, thudding music that rocked me to my core and bodies everywhere.

  It was like a completely different place before it opened. Isaac brought me with him in the car – which I still couldn't get used to, it was the nicest damn car I’d ever seen in my life – and Phoenix met us at the parking garage.

  I liked Phoenix. He was a big guy with a confident grin, and from what I could tell, Isaac trusted him with his life. Nico seemed quite fond of him too.

  “How you been, kid?” Phoenix asked as he escorted us to the club. I’d never been escorted anywhere. I felt so important, like a celebrity.

  “I told you, I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-one,” I muttered.

  “Alright, then,” Phoenix said with a smirk. “How you been, young man?”

  “Ew. That sounds worse,” I said. Phoenix laughed. It was a loud raucous – but not unpleasant – sound that came from deep in his chest.

  “Exactly,” he said. “Kid it is, then.”

  “At least you’re not an old man, like Isaac thinks I am,” Isaac muttered with a self-deprecating smirk.

  I realized I didn’t know his age. I just figured he was older than me.

  “How old are you?” I asked tentatively.

  “Twenty-eight,” he said as he entered the key code to the building. “Which is elderly, according to Phoenix’s standards.”

  The club seemed massive without the crowds of people dancing inside. I could actually see the décor now. It was minimal but classy, just like the inside of Isaac’s apartment. A few sleek rainbow prints hung across the walls. It had almost completely slipped my mind that this wasn’t just a club – it was a gay club.

  I already knew Nico was gay, since he was my best friend in high school and we had come out to each other long ago. But Phoenix and Isaac?

  I recalled back to the night where I burst in and found Isaac sitting at the bar and begged him to be my pretend boyfriend. It was embarrassing to think about it now. But he hadn’t made a fuss at all – just instantly went along with my stupid scheme. That didn’t prove he was actually gay.

  And Phoenix was the most stereotypical straight jock looking guy I’d ever seen. He was big and burly, sure, and if it wasn’t for the tidiness of his facial hair he might have passed f
or a gay bear.

  I sighed. Maybe my gaydar was all out of whack.

  “If you don’t need me here, I’ll be out front, then,” Phoenix said to Isaac. “Call if you need anything.”

  Isaac nodded. “Thank you, Phoenix.”

  “Have fun, kid,” Phoenix added to me with a smirk.

  “Uh,” I squeaked. “I will.”

  He turned and waved in a grand gesture and left.

  “Alright, then,” Isaac said, straightening himself up and looking professional. “Shall we begin?”

  Turns out owning and running a gay bar wasn’t really that exciting. I followed Isaac into his office and sat there on the couch while he did some administrative stuff on his computer. I kind of felt like I was at take-your-kids-to-work-day.

  From downstairs, the thudding low rhythm of bass began as the DJ arrived. I perked up as he started to play a song I recognized.

  “Sorry, I know this isn’t much fun,” Isaac said sympathetically. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself to Ryan?”

  “Ryan?”

  “He’s the DJ,” Isaac explained. Sensing my hesitation, he added, “Don’t worry. The club isn’t officially open for another half hour, so there won’t be any crowds yet. Ryan’s just setting up.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Feeling small in the empty club, I made my way down the narrow metal staircase to the main floor where a tall young man wearing headphones was nodding along to the song’s rhythm on stage. To my surprise, he saw me approach and waved me over.

  “’Sup?” he asked.

  “Hi,” I said. “Are you Ryan?”

  “Who wants to know?” he asked with a grin. He crossed his arms over the equipment.

  “I do,” I said. He laughed.

  “Then, yeah, I am. Pleased to meet your acquaintance,” he said, taking an exaggerated bow. “Are you the kid Isaac adopted?”

  I groaned. “Why does everyone keep calling me kid? You look like you’re barely out of high school,” I snapped.

  He laughed again, like a tall slender hyena. “Just jokes! I’m the same age as you and Nico. Between you and me, I think Isaac likes ‘em young.”

  “What?”

  “His employees, dude,” Ryan said. “What’d you think I meant?” The way he was grinning made it clear that he knew what I thought he meant. “Anyway, thanks for coming to say hi to me. Gets lonely up here, you know?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” I said. I wanted to get back to Isaac’s side. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

  “Yup.”

  Ryan started a new song then, a faster-paced beat that rocked the floor.

  Isaac was trying not to grin at the look on my face when I came back into his office. “Ah. I’m guessing you met Ryan, then?”

  “How’d you know?” I muttered, flopping back on the couch.

  “Quite a character, isn’t he?” he said.

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Isaac laughed. It wasn’t a loud, rowdy laugh like Phoenix’s – more smooth and subdued, like the sound of a river current. It was nice on the ears. I wanted to make him laugh more.

  “Anyway, I’m just about finished here.” He stood, running a hand through his hair. “Why don’t we head to the bar?”

  “As long as you don’t make me talk to Ryan again,” I muttered.

  Isaac shot me a playful glance, as if offended I would even suggest it. “Oh, of course not. Once is enough for one night.”

  The club officially opened and people started to stream in. Isaac stayed by my side as we hung out at the bar, which I appreciated. But I had to admit it was a lot less overwhelming this time. The chatter of voices and thrumming music was almost pleasant, like the white noise I’d been seeking the night before.

  “Drink?” Isaac asked.

  “Oh, no thanks, I don’t really like alcohol,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Sorry, I should have specified. Would you like a beverage of any kind?”

  “Oh.” I blushed in embarrassment. “I know it’s dumb, but do you have plain orange juice?”

  “Not dumb at all.” He turned to the bartender. “Matty, could you whip me up an orange juice, please?”

  “Screwdriver without the screw. You got it.” The bartender, a man with a beanie hung low over his eyes, grabbed a carton from the cooler. His hands moved quickly, almost like magic. In a flurry of movement he sent a glass careening across the counter. Isaac caught it deftly in his gloved hand, like a cat catching a mouse in one swipe.

  “There you are,” he said. “Plain not-dumb orange juice.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.” I sipped on my juice, looking around the club. Ryan was dropping a new beat into the current song. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Matty watching me, as if to make sure the juice was to my liking. I gave him a small nod and he closed his eyes and turned away, satisfied.

  “Are all the employees your friends?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Isaac said. “Well, only a few began as friends first and then became employees later, if that’s what you meant.”

  “Like Nico and Phoenix?”

  “Yes. Phoenix and I have known each other for years now, sort of like you and Nico. I even knew him back when he wasn’t nearly so big,” he added with a grin.

  “I can’t even imagine a not-buff Phoenix,” I said, laughing.

  “I’d show you a photo, but I’m afraid he might pop my head off,” Isaac said. He was recounting on his gloved fingers. “Nico came a bit later. Judging by the timeline I’m aware of, I must have met him a year or two after he graduated high school.”

  That made me a little melancholy – I’d missed so much of Nico’s life and experiences while I was… away.

  “He was standoffish at first, like a stray cat,” he said. “We clashed a bit in the beginning. I think he found me too strict and imposing, and I don’t blame him. He was used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted it.”

  “That sounds like Nico,” I said.

  “But he came around eventually. I think having Phoenix around helped. He’s much more charismatic than I am.” Isaac smiled. “I’ll admit, I know I’m not the most fun person to be around.”

  “I think you’re plenty fun,” I blurted out. Isaac looked surprised. “I mean, you’re not boring or anything.”

  “Ah.” For the first time in the span of time I’d known him, Isaac actually looked flustered. “Well. Thank you.”

  He stared down at the bar counter, looking away from me. Suddenly I was worried I’d said something stupid. Me and my fucking mouth.

  A beeping noise went off and Isaac took out his pager. “Shoot. I’ve got a call in the office.” He looked towards me. “Did you want to come, or…?”

  “It’s okay,” I said, smiling. “I’ll stay here.”

  His brows furrowed slightly in concern. “Are you sure?”

  “Yup. I’ll just hang out with Matty and drink my orange juice,” I said. As I spoke, Matty gave a silent thumbs up from down the bar. I didn’t even know he had been listening.

  “Alright,” Isaac said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  I was entranced as Matty prepared more drinks for the patrons with lightning quick speed and accuracy. It was like watching a magic show. I didn’t even know how he could see from under the low-hanging beanie sloping down over his face. His lips pouted out in concentration as he whipped up a fancy looking cocktail and slid it over to the customer.

  “Want another virgin Screwdriver?” he asked.

  At first I didn’t realize he was talking to me because he didn’t look in my direction – and if he did, I wouldn’t know because I couldn’t see his eyes anyway. “Oh, um, sure. Thanks.”

  He nodded and shot another glass over in about thirty seconds flat. He seemed to know I wasn’t as good a catch as Isaac, since he slid it over slower, like a pro tennis player putting less topspin on the ball.

  “You’re really good at this,” I commented. I saw the slightest upward quiver on Matty’s lips.
r />   A man approached the bar and sat on the unoccupied stool next to mine. He leaned on the counter and looked around before his gaze settled on me. I glanced away, taking a sip of my juice. I wasn’t big on eye contact with strangers.

  His elbow inched closer to me. “What’cha drinking there?” he asked.

  “Screwdriver without the screw,” I said, repeating Matty’s words. The man found this funny and laughed.

  “I’ll have what he’s having,” the man called to Matty. “Except I want mine with the screw.”

  Matty worked his tricks and shot the glass over in less than a minute. The man caught it and chugged it back in one go. I grimaced. He was either really thirsty or wanted to get really drunk. Either way I kind of wished he’d go and do it somewhere else.

  “What’s your name?” the man asked.

  “Seth.” I answered before I could stop myself. I was too used to giving answers right away when prompted, and I was internally wincing at myself for my honesty. Why couldn’t I just lie?

  “Cute name,” he said. “I’m Chad.”

  That’s nice, is what I wanted to say, but I ended up automatically saying, “Nice to meet you” instead. It wasn’t nice to meet him at all, but I’d already dug myself a hole and now I would struggle to get out of it.

  “So,” Chad said, gesturing to Matty for another drink. “You come here often?” He chuckled. “Cheesy line, I know.”

  “I guess,” I said. “Not really.”

  Chad considered this as he took a sip of his fully replenished drink. “Well, you’re here now. I guess that’s what matters.”

  “I guess,” I mumbled. I was starting to think I’d drank too much orange juice. My hands began shaking, but whether it was from anxiety or too much sugar I couldn’t tell. I tried to hide it by sitting on them.

  “You look nervous,” Chad asked, his brows furrowed in sympathy. “Something up?”

  “No,” I said.

  His expression radiating concern, he leaned over and put a hand on my shoulder. I froze up at the invasive touch.

  “If anything’s wrong, you can tell me, Seth,” he said. “Okay?”

  I must have burned holes into the counter with how hard I was focusing on it. I couldn’t find my voice, so instead I nodded slowly. To my relief, he finally retracted his hand.

 

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