Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
NICK
November
“Oi, Nick!”
My friend Del’s deep, booming voice carried down the street. I found him immediately, sauntering along at one end of a trio – Mark at the other end, Katie in the middle, arms linked.
“Finally!” Hands in the pockets of my coat, shoulders hunched against the cold, I’d spent the last twenty minutes waiting outside the pub. “I’ve been here for ages!”
“No one said you couldn’t wait inside,” Katie called.
“Sure, if I wanted to spend half the night trying to find you in the crowd.” I rolled my eyes as they reached me.
“Oh, honey.” Katie chucked me under the chin, making me snort and duck away. “No one’s ever going to lose me.”
She wasn’t wrong. She was trans, one of the most stunning women I’d ever met; all long, slim legs, bright colours, and tawny hair. Graceful and confident without ever looking as if she was trying too hard. Some days – alright, most days – I envied her that confidence.
I hugged them each in turn. I’d known Del and Mark since uni, where rugby first bonded us into teammates and then close friends. Physically they were opposites. Del was short and stocky with close-cropped dark hair, a Londoner through and through; Yorkshire-born Mark was broad and taller than me, with a thick blonde ponytail.
The last few months, I’d noticed… vibes… that maybe they’d become more than friends. Or at least, wanted to be. I was excited about that – the possibility of a positive change – but anxious it might not pan out. Or that it could split the group we’d forged here. That kind of worry felt selfish, but I’d lost too much to ignore it completely.
Katie was one of my first friends out of uni. We’d worked as physios in the same health club back in Leeds. She’d gone to London first, following a better job at a bigger club, and put in a good word for me. She was a physio for the NHS now, but we’d both stayed in London and kept that friendship.
She’d taken me under her wing so effortlessly it felt as if I’d known her forever. Inquisitive and intuitive, sometimes she seemed more like a sister than a friend. I was OK with that.
We trailed after Katie like ducklings. Inside, the heat and noise hit me like a wall. My skin burned from the sharp change of temperature. We elbowed our way to the bar and ordered drinks.
I ordered a low-alcohol beer. I didn’t drink much anymore. At best I was a maudlin drunk; at worst it made me fucking miserable. Made me remember the past I’d tried – was still trying – so hard to forget.
And at the very worst…
No. Not going there.
“Look, there’s a band!” Del nudged me in the ribs, pointing across the packed room to a raised stage. Nobody was on yet, but the instruments had already been set up.
“I love live music!” Katie was in her element, cocktail in hand as we threaded through the crowd.
By some miracle, Mark blagged a table. We slid into our seats and settled down. I would have preferred a quiet evening in with a take-away so we could catch up, ask the usual nosy and embarrassing questions about our love lives, but this evening was Del’s choice. One bonus – it was too noisy to confess I was still single. And so lonely it hurt, even with friends around me. No one I dated had ever been like…
No… just forget about him for one night!
Impossible.
Despite the noise, we still managed to make conversation. I let most of it flow over me. I thought I’d done a good job hiding my distraction until Katie turned on her stool and fixed me with a direct look.
“Are you alright, hun?”
“What? Yeah, of course.” My laugh felt false. Forced.
“There’s a sad look in your eyes.” Long, slim fingers ghosted across the side of my face, nails painted autumnal orange. She was a tactile woman.
“That’s just the beer.”
“This no-alcohol crap?” She nudged the side of the bottle.
“Low alcohol,” I said pointlessly. Knowing she was right. It was getting harder to hide how I felt from my friends.
Clapping and cheering distracted her from further questions. Relieved, I turned away just as the band walked onto the stage.
Faces I recognised –
Low shock reverberated through my chest. But I was already looking away, ignoring them, automatically searching for…
The first person – the only person – I’d ever loved.
The man whose heart I’d broken.
Charlie Spring.
~&~
“Close your mouth, mate.” Mark grabbed my chin and none-too-gently pushed it up. “You’re catching flies.”
I wrenched away with a good-natured grimace, trying to hide my reactions. Trying to control the flood of memories, emotions, the good and bad moments that just seeing Charlie brought back. I ducked my head, blinking suddenly hot eyes.
Del nudged me. “Which one put your knickers in a twist? I mean, they’re all fit, right?”
My head flew up. Was I really that obvious? Or did they just know me better than most?
I met Katie’s narrow-eyed, thoughtful expression. Oh God, I couldn’t face talking about this now.
Or… ever.
“They’re called Queer Intentions,” Katie said, rushing to fill the void of my silence. Taking the immediate heat off me. My throat tightened. “They’re, like, punk rock or something?”
The line-up hadn’t changed. Sahar on lead guitar, fierce and defiant as she shouted lyrics. I barely heard her or the others, barely saw them. Every part of me was fixed on Charlie.
He looked so fucking good… better than good, great. Amazing. Hot as hell. He’d always been hot as hell. Skinny black jeans clung to his slim legs, tousled black hair an inch or so longer than I remembered, leather bracelets on both wrists.
A sleeveless white vest.
From this distance, in this lightning, I couldn’t see the scars on his upper arms. But I knew they were there. Reminders that he’d felt so bad about himself – the bullying, his eating disorder – that he’d hurt himself. Never confident taking his shirt off.
To be here now, with everyone looking at him, was a measure of how much his confidence had grown.
I couldn’t stop a soft, dopey smile tilting my lips. Maybe if I focussed on the way he looked, I could forget the misery in my cracked heart.
I don’t think I heard a single thing they played. I just stared at Charlie the whole time, wondering how he’d been since he (metaphorically and literally) slammed the door in my face. What his life had been like. What was he doing now? Where did he live? Was he gigging full time, or was he some hot-shot museum professor? Questions tumbled over each other in my head. A yearning – a desperation – to know more.
To know everything.
Oh God. Had he… was he with someone else now? I mean, of course he was. He couldn’t possibly still be single. It was just me who measured every date against what we’d had, and found them all lacking. Was it so wrong to want things to feel like they had with him?
OK. So maybe I didn’t want to know everything, after all.
He played with a frenetic energy I’d never seen before. I tracked every bead of sweat that slid down the planes of his face. He seemed… more angular, harder. Sharper.
And so damned beautiful he took my breath away.
I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t cope seeing him again like this, even in a public place. I needed to… to leave. Get some fresh air. Find perspective.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He couldn’t see me, there were too many people in the way, and I was glad of that.
Wild applause. The music stopped, and I hadn’t heard one word. But I clapped along with them, letting out a whistle before I could stop.
Charlie’s gaze moved in my direction… searching… moving past. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated.
Both, I thought, an absent hand massaging the phantom pain in my chest. It’s both.
“I’m gonna get another drink,” Del said. “You want one?”
I wanted to go home and cry. I wanted to march onto that stage and demand to know why Charlie was here, now, as if it wasn’t just some huge cosmic coincidence.
“Same again,” was all I said, even though I’d barely drunk half the bottle.
Katie gave Mark a pointed look. Mark cleared his throat, looked around, and took off after Del.
“Right, pretty boy.” Katie turned to face me the second they were out of earshot. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you OK?”
I looked at my friends’ departing backs. I couldn’t count on them for rescue.
“I’m fine,” I lied, trying to style it out. Knowing I’d already failed. Katie was distressingly good at seeing through bullshit.
“Oh my God.” She looked at the band, then back at me. “That’s him, isn’t it? The drummer?”
“What? No, of course not.” Still trying to act as if seeing him hadn’t ripped open a wound.
“It is!” She pushed my arm, a wicked grin lighting her face. “You should go and talk to him.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe you can reconnect, if you know what I mean.”
She didn’t understand. I’d only ever told her Charlie was my first, not how long it lasted. Or how badly it ended.
Or that it was my fault.
“I – I can’t,” I stammered desperately. “It… look, things didn’t end well, and I…”
“Of course it didn’t end well.” She rolled her eyes. “First love never does. It’s all part of growing up. But you’re both adults now, so go and use your adult words and talk to him.”
~&~
I couldn’t do it. There was too much water under the bridge. How could I ever make that right?
But as the minutes ticked away, and the band packed up their gear, a low, panicky feeling settled in my gut. The dawning realisation that if I bottled it now, I’d never get a chance to talk to him again.
Never see him again.
Maybe this wasn’t such a coincidence, after all. What were the odds of us being in the same place at the same time six years after he’d walked out of my life?
I didn’t believe in fate or destiny. But I did believe in second chances. Maybe the universe had just given me one.
Could Charlie?
~&~
I lurked in the alley at the back of The Crown, feeling like a complete weirdo and freezing my arse off. There was no guarantee the band would even come out this way. But I had to try.
I was numb from the cold, on the edge of giving up, when the door swung open. Sahar came out backwards, carrying one end of a heavy box. Another woman held the other end. I scrabbled for a name. Aleena?
“Hey,” I said weakly.
“Nick?” Sahar’s eyebrows shot up. Her mouth opened. “Oh my God, it’s Nick! Hang on, you’re nice and strong, help us get this in the van?”
“Uh, yeah, of course.” My smile felt like a grimace. I peered past her, trying to catch a glimpse of Charlie, but he was nowhere to be seen. How much did the band know about our breakup? About what I’d done?
That didn’t stop me hurrying forward to help with their gear. Instrument cases, boxes of things I had no names for, bags of cables. The carpark was just around the corner. It felt good to get my muscles working.
Sahar had just offloaded another heavy box into my arms when I finally saw Charlie. He appeared in the doorway with a couple of cases slung under his arm. He was wearing a denim jacket, a sheepskin collar brushing his neck.
He saw me. Stopped. Stared, eyes wide, lips parted.
I drank in the sight of him. The sweat cooling on his skin. Those sweet, dark eyes.
“Hello, Charlie,” I said softly.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was sharp and suspicious.
This was a mistake. I was a fool to think he could ever move past what I’d done to him.
“I, uh…” I cleared my throat. God, why was this so hard? “I was, um, just here for a drink with some mates.”
“Still drinking. Right.” The comment cut deep. He brushed past me, close enough that his scent made my nose twitch. It brought back a slew of memories I didn’t have the strength to push away. “I meant, why did you follow me out to the back of the pub like some kind of stalker?”
I almost dropped the box. “It wasn’t like that! I would never…”
“Oi.” Sahar slapped him on the shoulder. “At least wait ‘til he’s loaded the van before you slag him off?” She gave me a quick, hard smile. “Some of us are pleased to see you.”
She didn’t know. He hadn’t told her.
Charlie scowled and walked away.
I offloaded the box into the back of the van and hung back, anxiety and self-loathing making me nauseous. Why was I doing this? When it was obvious he didn’t want to talk to me?
I should go. He’d virtually accused me of being a stalker, for fuck’s sake. I still had some pride, even if it was tattered and torn.
But… this was my last chance.
My only chance.
Charlie had stowed the cases and was climbing up into the passenger side of the van. His nostrils flared when he saw me, eyes dark and serious. His brows crashed together in a heavy frown.
“Go away, Nick. Please? Just… go away.”
His words hit like a blow. I flinched.
“I will,” I rushed to say, heart sinking. This was a mistake. “I just wanted to tell you…” What? That I missed him? That I regretted what happened with every fibre of my being? “I… didn’t know you were in Queer Intentions again.”
Stupid, stupid! Why couldn’t I figure out the right thing to say? The thing that would make him smile?
Because I didn’t deserve that smile. Nothing I said now would magically make him forgive me.
He let out a slow, ragged breath that steamed the freezing air. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“You were awesome out there, Char.” The endearment slipped out.
His eyes softened. As if he was remembering better times.
Times I couldn’t forget.
But then he frowned. And I knew I’d failed. Knew that I’d never really had a chance, despite what the universe seemed to have given me.
“We’re done here,” he said calmly. Emotionless, if you didn’t know him. “Just like we were done six years ago. Nothing’s changed.”
He slid the van door, shutting me out. There was a finality to the sound that made my heart clench.
Part of me wished he’d shouted. That he’d told me to fuck off and leave him alone. But I guess I wasn’t even worth his anger anymore, and now I had to deal with that.
I stumbled back toward the pub, my soul a shredded mess. Sahar’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Thanks for the help,” she said. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”
“Right.” I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, rocking on my heels. “Is Charlie… is he OK?”
She hesitated. “Ask him yourself.”
I wanted to scream. “I can’t.”
“Six years is a long time, Nick.”