by Riley Knight
Chapter Ten
Luca
Luca sighed as he looked at the pile of paperwork that he still had to do. In this case, the paperwork was actually all emails, but his inbox was stuffed full, and he couldn’t help but imagine it as a literal pile of papers that threatened to fall down on him and smother him at any time.
This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d accepted this job, but then, maybe he should have asked more questions at the time.
He had assumed that his job would be reporting, writing articles with his name on it, just like he’d been doing before. That wasn’t how he was being used, though. Instead, he got emails from his co-workers, none of whom could be bothered to speak to him in real life, asking him to research this, write that – while they got the credit for his work.
Yes, the writing was all on important topics, he wouldn’t deny that. But take the piece he’d just helped to write that had been all about ‘ten easy ways to be more environmentally healthy.’ He’d compiled that list, but he couldn’t help but notice this office did none of them.
It was all a bit disturbing, really. Luca supposed that this was the part where he was supposed to pay his dues, but hadn’t he already done that? Years of that, back when he’d been working for himself?
The pay was good and steady, and it was a new experience not to have to worry about whether he’d have the money in his account to pay his rent. And yet, money had never ultimately been that important to him. It was a tool, yes, but the relentless acquisition of it for its own purpose? That, he’d never understood.
Hadn’t he known that he was giving up a certain amount of freedom for stability? Wouldn’t most people see this as a dream job? So what if his name wasn’t on anything? He still got the money, and his name was on all sorts of articles already.
He’d stopped even reading the articles that he helped to write, though. It seemed like there was no point in doing so because it was all written in someone else’s style, with the facts that he’d discovered buried within. It was depressing.
With a sigh, Luca turned off his monitor. He had stayed late too many times over the last few months. God, had it really been six months since he’d taken this job? Since he’d gotten back to the United States, so happy that he was going to get to see Julian …
Nothing.
Kiran, when Julian had finally managed to get in touch with him, was so busy that Luca didn’t like to bug him. He’d asked for Ella’s phone number, but he hadn’t had a chance to say why.
Kiran informed him that he’d erased it because he didn’t like to be reminded of what an idiot he was. Or, more likely, Luca thought, Kiran had erased it to erase the chance of him calling her, texting her, asking her to try it again.
It was sort of funny, in this current day and age, with all of the technology available to them, that there were now these four people who had once been linked but now had no way to get into contact with each other.
Well, three people, anyway. Maybe Ella still had Kiran’s number. If so, she never used it. At least not as far as Luca knew.
He wasn’t staying late again. No, maybe he’d go down to where that jazz bar had been, though he hadn’t done that in a few weeks, because of work. Every time he had managed to get there, too, he had to deal with the crushing disappointment when everything was different there.
Someday, wasn’t it possible that Julian would be there, waiting for him, at the same time? That was what kept him coming back, even though the bar was long gone.
Shaking his head, Luca rose to his feet wearily. It was a Friday night, and he had the weekend off, but that also meant that it had been a long, long week, and he wasn’t quite able to reconcile himself mentally with the idea that he could go and deal with that disappointment again. Tomorrow, maybe.
He had to get out of there.
There was a bar right beside his work. Not a jazz one, but a sort of pseudo-Irish sports bar type thing, the kind with the enormous high-definition televisions that were always showing something.
It was the middle of hockey season, so that’s what Luca walked into. On those huge televisions, he could see the sweating faces of the players as they skated after the little black puck, clearly straining for it with everything that they had.
With another sigh, this time to try to release tension, Luca went to a table. To his table, because over the months, he’d come here often enough that he actually had a table where he sat the vast majority of the time. He had been here far too much, he had to admit.
Hard to imagine that he had once told Julian, with all seriousness, that he ‘didn’t drink often.’
When the waitress, a short, vivacious girl with auburn hair named Tiffany, walked over, he shook his head a little. He recognized her. He’d never been to a bar enough to actually recognize any of the staff, with the very notable exception of Julian. Tiffany seemed nice, but the fact that Luca did know her name, that disturbed him.
He was spending too much time in this bar.
“Whatever’s on tap,” Luca requested, and even though there had to be at least ten beers that this place had on tap, Tiffany knew what he meant. A lager or ale, nothing with too many hops.
“Coming right up,” she said, with a smile that was friendly, but also maybe just a little bit beyond friendly. Something almost flirtatious. A year ago, nine months ago, even, Luca would have casually considered seeing if he could get her into bed.
Though he had the sense that it wouldn’t be all that difficult, the interest in that was long gone. There was exactly one person that Luca wanted, and Tiffany was lovely, but she wasn’t Julian.
Sighing, Luca toyed with the coaster that his server had put down for him, spinning it idly on the table. How often had he been in here, anyway? Before going to that jazz nightclub, he could probably have counted the times that he’d been into a bar on the fingers of one hand.
Now he could do that within the course of two weeks. Every second night, he was here, trying to lose himself in the drink, and the noise.
And noise, there definitely was. Plenty of it. Not only was the hockey game on, but they had music playing over the radio, too. It wasn’t exactly harmonious, but the noise was part of why he came here.
When it was so loud, and especially when he was buzzing with booze, it was hard to think about anything else.
He hadn’t become an alcoholic, he didn’t think. He still didn’t drink outside the bar, for instance, and he hadn’t started to put off other things in favor of drinking. He still had his life under control.
Or did he? The biggest thing, of course, that stood in the way of that theory was that he didn’t have Julian. He didn’t even know how to find Julian, though he had been trying.
The rest of his life, well, he didn’t actually have much of a life. His closest friend was a half a world away, and he’d made no friends at work.
Work. God. He’d realized awhile back that there was a very good reason that his job had been available. A very good reason that they’d jumped at the chance to interview him. With his experience, he was an excellent person to have in the role.
With a sigh, he downed his beer quickly, and then signaled to Tiffany that he would have another. And another, he was sure. He’d be taking a cab home tonight, but that wasn’t so unusual for a Friday night. Or lately, for a Wednesday night, or Tuesday … or any night when he just needed the numbing effects.
The hockey game was played out, and Luca watched, sort of. He couldn’t actually have told anyone who asked who had won, but luckily, no one asked him that or anything. He was alone in his bubble and the only person who breached it was Tiffany, and only then to bring him more beer.
There must not have been any more hockey to play because the sports channel turned to a show about darts. To Luca, that had never seemed exactly like a sport, and the people who controlled the volume must have agreed, because they turned it way down. It was still on, still playing, but much quieter.
Too bad. It was much les
s distracting that way. It was getting late, anyway. It was probably time to go. When he saw Tiffany again, he’d signal her for the bill and go home, to his lonely bed, to sleep it all off …
Luca.
What?
Luca’s head was buzzing with the alcohol, but he could have sworn someone said his name. Someone from work, maybe? Only he’d been the last one there, as usual. No one else knew his name, not even Tiffany.
He’d probably imagined it.
“So here it is! The YouTube sensation that everyone’s talking about!”
The radio was very loud. Loud enough that Luca let the sound of it push him back into his seat. Tiffany was nowhere to be found, and he listened, with half of his attention on the radio but also looking for the pretty waitress.
“That’s right. It’s actually a really inspiring story.” There were two DJs, from what Luca could tell, having a conversation about something or another. Some big deal who was making less of a mess of their life than Luca was.
“Yeah, I actually heard that the writer is trying to reach his boyfriend, Luca. So if you’re out there, Luca, I guess this one’s for you! Julian Delacour’s first, but probably not last, hit, the smash sensation that launched his career, For Luca!”
Luca couldn’t breathe. That wasn’t hyperbole. For a few seconds that felt endless, he couldn’t make his lungs work, couldn’t draw air in, or let it out. Then the shock passed because this YouTube sensation Julian started to sing.
It was his Julian. He would have recognized that smoky, flawless voice anywhere, even without the preamble.
Luca stopped looking for Tiffany, and instead, he just listened. By the end of the song, he touched his cheeks and was a little surprised to find that they were wet.
It was Julian.
For the couple of minutes that the song played, it was like Julian was standing right in front of him, a mic in his hand, slender, small body dressed to the nines in that sexy suit that he’d had to wear for work. Julian, flashing those soulful dark eyes around, daggers that aimed right at Luca’s heart.
Luca wasn’t looking for Tiffany anymore. Instead, he dropped some money on the table, sure only that it was enough to cover his bill, and then stood up. He’d probably just given Tiffany a hell of a tip, but he had to get out of there.
Julian. Julian Delacour. He had the last name. More than that, didn’t he have a sign that Julian was looking for him, just as much as he had been looking for Julian?
Leaving the bar, Luca let the cold air wake him up. Drive away the beer buzz, which he definitely didn’t want anymore. This was a big deal. He had a lot more information, after months and months of nothing. How could he just sit here and be drunk when there were things to do?
The first thing he needed to do was figure out, well, what he needed to do. He had to get himself together enough to try to decide what he was going to do. How he was going to proceed with this new information.
If only he could get his damn head to stop spinning.
So many things were possible now that hadn’t been before. He wanted to rush right in, to try to find the man right here and now. It was no longer a burned down bar that was his only link. Julian had very thoughtfully extended to him an invitation to find him.
In the end, though, all he could do was fall into the next cab that came by. He’d drunk more than he thought, he realized, as he stared at the screen of his phone, which seemed to flicker more than it should, the lines wavy, unreadable.
The cab helpfully took him home, and Luca thrust more money at the guy. For a while, he’d been thrilled to have an income that was steady. He’d never had this much disposable income in his entire life.
It was barely on his radar, though. He just wanted to get inside. To close his eyes, just for a second, to try to clear his mind. To get to the point where he could actually see a screen and not just have the words blurred out.
To try to use this new information to do what he hadn’t been able to do for six months.
To find Julian.
Stumbling into the building, Luca had no idea how he made it up the stairs to his apartment. How he managed to slot the key into the handle, though his hands were shaking so badly that he had to hold one hand with the other in order to steady it enough to sock the key home.
Somehow, by some miracle, Luca managed to make it inside. He made it as far as the couch before he collapsed, and his last conscious thought was that maybe it was time to stop drinking quite as much as he had been.
His very last thought, though, wasn’t actually really a thought at all. Not a conscious one, anyway. It was a deep, instinctive knowing. Julian. He was going to find Julian.
Then he was out, drawn deep into sleep by all of the beer he’d drunk. Right there on the couch, he passed out, but the whole time that he was asleep, he was thinking of Julian.
* * *
It was far too late in the day when Luca awoke. Luckily, he didn’t have work that day, because, in all honesty, he probably would have just called in. He hadn’t done so the entire time he’d been working there, but this … this was important.
In the time that they’d been separated, it probably should have become less crucial. He probably should have moved on, at least a little bit. Other things in his life probably should have become more important than a lover he’d had very briefly half a year ago.
Only Julian had always been more than that to Luca. He’d always utterly fascinated Luca, ensnared him completely, body, mind, and soul.
So Luca, ignoring the throbbing needles of pain in his eyes that went all the way to the back of his head, grabbed his phone. When he saw that it was dead, though, he cursed much more viciously than he usually would have and dragged himself out of the dubious comfort of the couch. First to plug his phone in, then to grab his computer.
Once he was settled, he swallowed around the nerves that wreaked havoc with his stomach, making him feel a little bit like he was going to throw up. Though at least part of that, he figured, was probably the hangover.
It only took a few seconds to pull up YouTube. The radio guy had said that that was where this had all started, right? His eyes blurred a little with emotion as he typed his own name into the search bar.
For Luca.
The song that Julian had promised to write, he clearly had. He’d kept that promise, just as Luca had kept his promise to find a steadier job.
Only that thought made him wince because he’d promised to find a job where what he did mattered. Had he really filled that part of it? He couldn’t be sure. He was mostly doing work so that other people could take credit for it.
God, what would Julian have to say about that? Julian, who was always so authentic, so true to himself?
He’d find out. He would. Just as soon as he found Julian. So he settled down to listen to the song, searching it for hints.
It wasn’t as jazzy as he would have thought, though there were jazz undertones, for sure. But it was gorgeous, and Julian’s voice filled him with hope, unlike anything he’d felt in a long time. In months, even.
Google was his friend. Not only did he find Julian, but he learned a fair bit. Like his lover was having a concert soon, for instance. Like there were still tickets left.
They were ridiculously expensive, but what did he care about that? Other than drinking himself into a near stupor, he hadn’t been doing much with his money, and he had a fair bit in the bank that he hadn’t touched for much at all.
A plan started to come into his mind, and it drove the hangover away. The concert was the very next night. He could wait that long, he figured, and it would be worth it to make this reunion perfect.
Chapter Eleven
Julian
Three months ago, Julian had been no one. He hadn’t even had a job. He’d managed to, through his own stupidity, lose his boyfriend, and if not for Ella, he would have had no place to live.
The change had been practically overnight. From being no one, he’d become a sensation. Or so he was tol
d. The only thing was, he didn’t feel like he was any different than he’d ever been.
Other people, it seemed, begged to differ. People recognized him on the street, for instance. He was not a worldwide hit, he didn’t think, but locally, at least, people knew him, and he had not quite gotten used to that fame, as humble as it was compared to some.
When people came up to him on the street, it still made him feel weird when they talked to him like they knew him. When they said that they loved his music, and couldn’t wait for more.
When they asked him, as pretty much everyone did, if he’d found Luca yet. Julian had never realized what a private person he was, not until he’d found that he no longer had that privacy.
People knew the intimate details of his heart. Yes, they knew because he’d told them, but he hadn’t really known what he was doing. It sounded ridiculous, but it was true.
Yes, it had all changed very quickly. It had been amazing, being able to quit his job at the coffee shop, but the odd thing was that he actually missed it a fair bit. No one had asked him for his autograph when he was just a lowly peon
To go from that all the way to the lofty heights of which he currently found himself, it was a lot to take. He spent a fair bit of the time just flat out not believing that it was happening, but a look at his bank account changed that.
He’d been signed to do an album, just based on the one song that he’d recorded. There was, it seemed, no shortage of people who were willing to take advantage of his internet fame.
Not that he was ungrateful. He was grateful, but he was already looking forward to having his album recorded. He already thought that he might just refuse any further offers. Yes, he loved his music, and he was deeply gratified by the opportunity to get paid to write it, but …
It seemed ridiculous to him. Yes, he had a couple of more songs that he’d written, but mostly, his concert was going to be playing him doing covers of other people’s music. The same thing he’d done, essentially, when he was nothing more than a glorified lounge singer.
