The night air stung cold through the thin barrier of his pyjamas. He wished that he'd thought to put some slippers on and for a moment considered doing so, but that would mean going back inside. That would mean waking Ricky.

Ricky.

Rod didn't know how he felt about Ricky. Well, he did. He loved Ricky didn't he?. Surely he loved him. Surely he did.

Rod warily shifted himself along the tiles until he was sitting in a better position. He often sat on the roof at night to think; he could see the whole avenue and beyond from there. It made him simultaneously feel insignificant in such a vast expanse, and yet also comforted that he was not alone. He felt alone.

Down below the night continued. Lucy the slut was easily identifiable amongst the clubbers and the drinkers. All those people with lives, who hadn't shut themselves up in a dead-end job, who hadn't had to hide from themselves.

Underneath his feet the window opened and Ricky looked out, scanning the streets. Rod was silent, not knowing if his boyfriend was looking for him or just looking out. He was silent, not caring either way. No one would think to look for him up on the roof anyway. Ricky's head disappeared back into the apartment.

(Rod? Where are you?)

Rod hugged his knees to his chest, ducking his head as he thought about his situation with Ricky.

How dare he look like Nicky, what right did he have?

One glance, that's all it took. Just one glance to rip his heart from his body and throw it away. Those perfect brown eyes so full of love and emotion betrayed the owner in just one glance, denouncing him as a fake, as a replica, as Rod's boyfriend.. One glance to break his heart all over again.

These feelings for his best friend hadn't subdued over the years; if anything they were more intense. And it was irrational: Nicky was straight for one thing. And all he did was lounge around the house being a nuisance, always talking, always smiling at him with that beautiful smile, that melted all Rod's worries away when he saw it. It was no use. He had long since resigned himself to the fact that he would love Nicky no matter what, but why did it have to be so hard?

The stillness was broken by the sound of singing on the street. Looking down Rod saw him. Nicky. Back from wherever he had been spending Rod's money that evening. The singing became quieter as the man entered the building, getting louder as he ascended the stairs and opened the apartment door. Rod sighed, knowing that he would never be able to get to sleep that night, now that Nicky was back to invade his dreams.

He knew that he had to make this relationship work: for Nicky's sake, for HIS sake. But it was like making love to one with the face of an angel, only for the angel to speak and reveal his identity as an impostor. Being with Ricky brought him nearer to his dreams than ever before, but it wasn't enough. The fact that it wasn't what he wanted, who he wanted, was so painful he thought he would die. Ricky may look like Nicky but he wasn't, not by a long shot.

Voices were raised in the apartment, audible through the still-open window. Even though Ricky and Nicky had remarkably similar voices, Rod could still pick out all the inflections of his friend, could imagine how he would run his hand through his thick black hair, or gently bite his lower lip.

(Rod's disappeared again. I've no idea where he's gone off to, and at this time of night.)

(Again? I'll go find him, you stay here in case he gets back.)

It was proof of how well Nicky knew Rod, that within moments footsteps could be heard on the metal steps of the fire escape. Rod kept his gaze straight ahead as Nicky lowered himself down next to him, laying back with his hands behind his head.

"I thought I'd find you here" Rod didn't reply, but simply lay down beside him, staring up at the dots of light high above, so free and beautiful.

Surely Nicky knew? How did it make him feel seeing Rod with a man identical enough to be his twin? If he thought that Ricky was Rod's type then surely he must have guessed? But he remained oblivious, just sitting on that couch with that sweet, sweet smile on his untouchable face. Now though he simply stared into the sky, a more contemplative look in his eyes.

Rod couldn't bring himself to look at his friend. Trying to appear in love was slowly breaking him apart, but trying to hide his true feelings was even worse. Instead he simply said

"I'm sorry Nicky"

Nicky didn't reply, but he didn't need to. Whether or not he knew what Rod was referring to, his silent presence was enough. Standing up he zipped up his hoodie against the cold. He laid a hand on Rod's shoulder

"Lets go in"

Ricky was waiting for them when they go into the apartment. Rod didn't even look at him but went straight to the bedroom, not wanting to have to face an argument. He climbed into bed, pulling the duvet over his head.

(Where the hell were you? You can't just go off like that – I was so worried-)

(Just leave off him mate)

(What's the matter with you? You know what he's like and...)

As the two men left Rod alone in the room, he felt a tear trickle down his cheek. He didn't wipe it away.

"I'm sorry" he whispered to the darkness.

Because he was sorry: sorry that he had ever set eyes on the man; sorry that he had let his heart govern his head; sorry that he had acted so ungrateful about his friend's generous act.

Sorry that he had fallen in love.

Sorry that it was with Nicky.