The Hardest Fall (Roadmap to Your Heart Book 3)

by Christina Lee

  Reaching in the container I showed the viewing audience how realistic the lashes looked. “Speaking of comments, several of you asked about my love life.” I winked. “A proper lady does not kiss and tell.”

  Fishing out the glue that came with the lashes, I unscrewed the cap. “Good thing I’m not a lady. I’m a queen and a queen loves to brag about her conquests.”

  I continued with the demonstration, blathering on about proper technique, showing how to cut the lashes down the center and then applying the glue.

  Smiling big for the camera, I blinked my new lashes that I had already applied to one eye.

  “So tell me…anyone ever had a big time crush on somebody and you didn’t know what to do about it because the person was…unavailable…or maybe even straight?” I asked and then pouted my lip for effect. “That’s sort of my dilemma right now.”

  Using the hand mirror, I explained how to start at the outer corner, making sure to hug the lash line. “Unless you want a more dramatic effect—and what queen doesn’t? Then you could place it a degree above the lash line.”

  “Now back to my situation.” I used air quotes as I embellished a bit for my story. It wasn’t the complete truth, surely Sebastian wasn’t straight, but I had an idea my viewers would eat it up. And besides, it felt good to work through my frustration out loud. “What if so-called straight boy—I’ll call him Dark Eyes—has been hanging with you for weeks and you’ve become pals. And you like his company and you like…even the smell of him.”

  I pretended to smell my pits and scrunched up my nose. “Not that kind of smell. Just, you know, his unique manly scent. Anyway. Then what if there’s a kiss?”

  I could almost hear some of my audience members squealing in my head. They were pretty exuberant in the comments, especially with exclamation points.

  “See, we had this hot and heavy make-out session the other night, right?” I said, while applying the lashes to my other eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve kissed plenty of guys before. Mhmm.” I crossed my legs in a demure pose and hammed it up for the audience. “But, I don’t know…this kiss was different. Yeah, sounds cliché and stupid. But it was definitely intense.”

  I held up my mascara again and explained that the glue needed to dry a couple of minutes first.

  “So, I was his first dude kiss,” I said, working the mascara brush through both sets of lashes. “And he wasn’t all cautious and awkward, he just went for it and damn, it was something else.”

  All of a sudden, I heard the bedroom door creak open and Tori stood there, with her jaw hanging open.

  “No fucking way,” she mouthed to me.

  “I like to use a thick black liner on my lids when I wear falsies as well,” I said, suddenly distracted. “Makes it more dramatic.”

  I reached for the eyeliner I normally used and explained that it was waterproof. “I don’t actually have to do anything about Dark Eyes. Who wants to get involved with a supposed straight boy anyway? They’ll always break your heart. So there you go, I just answered my own question.”

  Tori fidgeted at the door and waited for me to sign off.

  “That’s it for now, friends. Thanks for tuning in. Don’t forget to like and subscribe,” I said, and threw the screen a kiss. “Until next time.”

  Walking to the camera, I clicked the end button. Hearing Tori throw herself dramatically across my bed, I immediately played the recording from the beginning again to see if I had made any missteps. But really I was avoiding my roommate’s probing eyes.

  “So it’s like that?” she finally asked.

  “Yeah, it’s like that,” I responded, still looking through my recording. “It is what it is. Wouldn’t be the first straight boy I kissed.”

  “You still think he’s straight?” she asked, scrunching her nose. “Because I’m pretty sure if you—”

  “Nah, I just called him that for the camera. He’s admitted that he’s attracted to me and needs to figure it all out.”

  “But he ran away after kissing you?” she said and then crushed the pillow over her head in frustration.

  “Not a hard run,” I said laughing. “I didn’t do anything to catch up to him. I was still delirious over that mouth. Damn.”

  “That good?” she asked, peeking at me from beneath the soft material. “Or does it just seem that way because you think he’s unattainable and you like to throw in the towel as early as possible?”

  “Slow clap, roomie. Good question,” I said as I began the process of downloading the video to my laptop so that I could upload the clip to YouTube. “I need to sort that out in my brain. But it wasn’t average, I can tell you that much. It was hot and he was sexy.”

  “Damn you’re getting me all heated thinking about it,” she said. “Not about you obviously, because ew, you’re like my brother. Just about kissing a hot boy in general. I’ll admit Sebastian is gorgeous.”

  “Does Richard kiss you in all the right ways too…and the right places?” I cooed and she sighed happily. “Ooh, do tell.”

  She told me about Richard going down on her while I uploaded the video and afterward, we ate the Chinese takeout she brought home for us. Nobody made vegetarian pot stickers like this little dive on 23rd street. They were heaven. I kept checking my phone hoping that Sebastian would text something, anything, but there was nothing. I needed to give him some space, so I refused to contact him first. Tori would tell me I was stalling and making excuses so I didn’t mention it to her.

  After dinner, Tori and I sat on opposite ends of the couch with our laptops.

  “Holy crap—all these comments and views,” she said. “Plus, your title rocks.”

  “Let me see that,” I said, my fingers flying on the keys. The title of the video I uploaded was Straight Boys and False Eyelashes. That was probably what helped with the clicks.

  There were already a few hundred visitors. People were offering support in the comments section. Things like:

  Give him time.

  Screw him.

  You can do better.

  You know that thing about not reading the comments section? Well I kind of had to on my own page to get an idea of the pulse of my videos. There were definitely some assholes who called me a faggot or a chick. I deleted them straight away because trolls were trolls. But I also noticed how my new fan base was helping me police them too.

  Tori snapped her fingers at me. “Whatever you’re doing to get these hits—more of that.”

  21

  Sebastian

  I couldn’t stop watching Tate’s videos. Dark Eyes. Is that what he called me behind my back? Damn it. I had definitely screwed everything up.

  I fucking hate you Alan, I whispered to myself as I placed the laptop on the bed and stood up to shower. But it was really me who was to blame for all of this.

  I was so clear in the beginning about what I was going to do. But I hadn’t banked on Tate and everything he embodied, on being completely spellbound by him, and I hadn’t counted on seeing that hurt in his eyes below the surface, the hollowness that I thought only I ever felt. That had changed everything and now I was in this strange situation where I didn’t know what to do.

  Driving myself crazy thinking about it wasn’t going to help. I climbed in the shower, and quickly washed up, ignoring the urge to daydream about how Tate had confessed that he liked how I smelled. After I got dressed, I stopped for coffee and bagels and browsed the newspaper as I sipped at the warm liquid that did little to satisfy the growing cold spot in my belly.

  When Annie breezed in the shop I was at the back table fixing a row of leather buttons on a pair of ankle boots and was so preoccupied that she actually startled me.

  “You okay?” she asked as I held my chest and sucked some needed air into my lungs. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You were pretty focused on something. I’m going to guess it wasn’t those buttons.”

  Straight to the point as always. I may not have talked to her much, but she always sensed when important thi
ngs were going on in my psyche. She guessed when my last relationship ended before we ever said the words.

  I’d never been opposed to having a girlfriend, I was a monogamous kind of guy, but something always felt off. The only girl who had ever been something special to me was my first love when I was seventeen. I was so into that girl. But soon that fizzled out as well.

  Annie cleared her throat and I realized she was still waiting on a response from me. She was such a good person and I never let her inside. I’d been such a closed off asshole. But she was one of the only loyal and decent friends I had.

  “I’ve been better,” I muttered and then quickly changed the subject. “I got you a bagel and some coffee.”

  She looked over at her workstation and smiled. “Thanks, I could use a cup. Karen and I have had a couple of late nights.”

  “You were out again last night?” I pulled myself out of my own headspace to ask the question.

  “A party at her co-worker’s place,” she said, motioning out the door. “In midtown.” I knew that Annie hated going anywhere near midtown, especially if there was a street sale or parade. After living here so long you learned what intersections to avoid if you didn’t want to get held up by touristy events, which was practically every single week in the summer.

  I watched as she removed her bagel from the bag, and placed it on her desk. Then she took a long sip of her coffee, which she always requested with loads of cream and sugar. I imagined how sugary sweet it would taste and the thought curdled my stomach.

  “Does your mood have anything to do with Tate?” she asked in a concerned voice after she got situated in her chair. She had brought in a flowery cushion years ago to help offset the hardness of the wooden chair that used to be my father’s favorite. It was difficult to think of changing any of this furniture now. Still, this shop could have used a little sprucing up. “You left pretty abruptly after paying the tab the other night and we didn’t see Tate again either after that.”

  Shit, had I ruined Tate’s night as well? He didn’t reappear to mingle with his fans? I always figured he could shut it on and off so easily. “I…I don’t know.”

  She sighed. “Look Sebastian, I’ve worked with you for years, even though I don’t feel like I really know you. You don’t exactly let people get to know you.”

  When she cringed, I said, “Go on.” Because she was right on the money.

  “I’ve seen you date here and there but it always looked like you were going through the motions,” she said and stopped as if to survey my reaction. When I nodded she continued. “But these past few weeks around Tate, you seem…rattled.”

  “He’s a new friend and I’m just trying to...” Christ, I sounded pathetic, like I was in high school, attempting to maneuver through social groups.

  Annie lifted her eyebrows in a move I’d seen dozens of times when she didn’t believe a word of it. She was more like a big sister than anything. If my dad were around he’d have said, Listen to Annie, she’s smart.

  God, I missed my dad. He would know what to do in this situation, wouldn’t he?

  “Okay well, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you’re not ready to talk about these things,” Annie said with a dejected look on her face and I felt like shit. She was as close to me as family. And I didn’t have any family left. “Just know I care about you and I’m here for you.”

  Right then the bell jangled and a customer walked in the door. It gave me time to ponder all Annie had said to me. Why didn’t I let people in?

  I had been in foster care where I definitely learned a trick or two about being as invisible as possible so that children’s services didn’t move me again. After adoption, I was close to my dad and told him everything, but that trust was earned. Alan was also a friend that I enjoyed having around, mostly when I was younger, and probably because he never bugged me about stuff. He just let me be me, which also meant he didn’t really know me very well either. And vice versa, because now I wasn’t so sure what I felt about him as a human being.

  The customer who’d been dropping off a pair of cowboy boots had filled out his pink ticket and left. The only sound in the room was the background music Annie was playing from the latest play she had seen on Broadway called Hamilton.

  “Annie,” I said, taking a fortifying breath and then stepping toward her workstation so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to hear me. “I…care about you too. I know I don’t always show it and I’m sorry. I’m just—”

  She held up her hands. “No need to apologize. You are who you are.”

  “Thing is, I would like your advice on something.” I threw myself down on the chair opposite her desk. “It’s killing me.”

  She paused the sewing needle and stared at me, her eyes wide, jaw slack like she could not believe the words that had come out of my mouth.

  “It is about Tate,” I mumbled, feeling ridiculous. I stared over her shoulder at the wall of shoe sizes for the homeless. “I’m afraid if I tell you, you’ll think less of me.”

  “Honey, we all struggle with life and make mistakes,” she said, her eyes softening. “Did something happen between you guys other night?”

  When I didn’t answer right away she twisted her legs toward me and leaned forward. “You kind of ran out of Ruby Redd’s and well…I guess I can tell there’s something between the two of you.”

  “You can?” I could feel my cheeks growing hot. Shit, had I been mooning over him like some thirteen-year-old boy?

  “Don’t worry, it might not be obvious to anybody else. I don’t think Karen really noticed, otherwise she wouldn’t have hinted to you about her co-worker.” So Annie had kept her suspicions to herself. God, I appreciated that about her. “Did…did you and Tate have an argument?”

  I placed my head in my hands as if that would somehow help me get the courage to tell her the truth.

  “Not an argument,” I said, clearing my throat, but unable to meet her eyes. “A…a kiss.”

  She gasped and when I looked up at her she was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  “Are you making fun of me?” I harrumphed, folding my arms.

  “Not at all,” she said, clucking her tongue at me. “It’s just…it’s been years since I’ve seen you like this over a kiss.”

  “I’ve only ever—”

  Before I could get the words out she blurted, “Suzy Weatherford.”

  She had remembered my first crush’s name from over a decade ago?

  “How do you—”

  “Oh I remember clear as a warm summer day how you acted when you brought her to the shop to meet your dad,” she said, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “You were all flustered and wanted to make sure you made a good impression.”

  I forced my fingers through my hair, nearly embarrassed at her memory of the lanky, pimpled-faced kid. “Oh God.”

  “I’m assuming this is the first time you’ve kissed a man?” she asked and I nodded, my gaze darting out onto the street.

  “Been attracted to other guys?”

  “I… I don’t…think so,” I said, even though I’d been thinking hard about it for days, attempting to remember any other feelings I might’ve had over the years.

  “So you’re confused, which I can understand. Listen, if you’re just figuring out that maybe you’re bisexual, it’s not something to be ashamed of. Plenty of people have feelings on a continuum, and—”

  “It’s more than that. Fuck,” I said. “Being bisexual is something I could totally embrace. I almost can understand that better than…”

  Annie remained quiet, watching me. Finally, she whispered the words as if afraid to startle me. “You can tell me anything.”

  22

  Sebastian

  I took a deep breath and decided that maybe it would do me good to release this burden weighing me down. “You remember my friend Alan who passed away?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, sighing and sitting back in her chair to get more comfortable. “That was
a sad time for you.”

  I bobbed my head up and down. “He was probably my closest friend.”

  She wrinkled her nose and looked away, clearly uncomfortable with my statement.

  I shifted forward in my seat. “What?” When her eyes darted over my shoulder I said, “Tell me, please.”

  “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever understood that,” she replied, her gaze finally leveling on me. “You two were so different.”

  That sentiment I understood, because we definitely were. But I desperately wanted to hear her take on the man. “How?”

  “You’re more compassionate, philanthropic, I guess,” she said. “And he was more…egocentric, concerned about status and material things. In my opinion, you gave him too much credit as a friend.”

  I sat there stunned at her description. She would have seen us coming and going in and out of the shop as teens, checking in with my dad, before heading off to the park or the theater. I was sort of his second-fiddle friend, I supposed, when he didn’t have a party to attend or a girlfriend to screw around with.

  “Yeah, I get that,” I said, clearing my throat. It had suddenly become parched from the memories hitting so close to home. “But in school he was the only one who…he always tried to include me at lunch and stood up for me against bullies.”

  I wouldn’t share with her how many fights I got into with kids. I was seen as scrappy and broody. At least one of those things wasn’t true anymore.

  But then something else began forming in my mind. A different kind of memory of Alan and things he seemed interested in. The porno sites he showed me as well as jacking off regularly in his room, when his mom and dad weren’t home. They were pretty strict and had high expectations of him.

  I figured that was just kid stuff and I had developed later than him. I masturbated way more in college than in high school. Maybe Alan was just trying to figure himself out too and maybe he could let it all hang out with me. I was pretty quiet and never razzed him or gave him any shit for it.