With a sigh Frasier retreated into the men's room, desperate to be alone. It was of little comfort that he found the place empty, but at least here he wouldn't be judged or ridiculed by anyone. Dear God is that what he'd become? A well-respected radio psychiatrist and Harvard graduate, reduced to hiding in the Men's room, simply because his feelings were hurt? What would his listeners think? What would his dad think? What would Niles think? And worse, what would his mom think?
He was better than this. Much better. He knew what he had to do. He would leave the confines of the stark men's room and boldly return to the reunion. Yes, he had to face up to his critics. Surely there was someone with whom he could carry on an enjoyable conversation.
But no sooner had he made the decision to return did the door start to move.
Like a frightened little boy, he hurried into the nearest stall and closed the door, content to stay hidden from sight. He listened carefully. He heard footsteps, the opening and closing of the stall door beside him, the flush of water and then footsteps heading toward the sink. The water ran in a steady stream followed by the most prominent sound of all; that of painfully familiar voices.
"How crazy is it to see everyone again?" Barry asked, his voice bellowing in the small men's room.
"Can you believe that Crane is here?" Thomas laughed. "He went from uptight student to radio shrink! And he's still as uptight as ever!"
The laughter echoed off the tile and chrome, making Frasier's ears hurt. Or perhaps it was merely the words that were being spoken.
"He looked so damn desperate, handing out those business cards!" Lyle said, producing more laughter from the three men.
"His professor carried him for so long that I'm surprised that he can even walk!"
The words and the sarcastic laughter pierced him like an emotional knife through his soul. Once again he heard footsteps, the water shut off and then the door groaned. Slowly he opened his stall door just a crack, but it was the worst possible timing. He'd opened it at the precise moment that the men; his so-called brothers-were leaving the men's room. It didn't bother him that much, watching them leave, for he'd already heard their hurtful words. But it was the way that each man so ceremoniously tossed his expensive high-gloss business cards into the trash can and walked out of the door that nearly crushed him.
When he was once again alone, Frasier swallowed hard and stepped out of his stall. His heart was heavy; heavier than ever before. This was far worse than when he would get into the fights with Lilith or the reality that his marriage had crumbled before his feet. It hurt worse than when Diane left him at the alter or when he would constantly allow himself to be shunned in high school. It was the worst pain imaginable.
He fought the moisture that was forming in his eyes; for he refused to the wetness for what it really was, the beginning of an emotional breakdown. He went to the sink and washed his hands, splashing water on his face and dried his face and hands with paper towels. One more glance into the mirror to make sure there was no sign of vulnerability written on his face. And then he opened the door to return to the reunion. But he paused just outside the doorway and turned around, heading back inside.
His chest ached as he reached into his pocket and removed the stack of expensive high-gloss business cards bearing his name. He glanced at them only for a moment before they fell from his hand, fluttering to the place where they belonged; with the others in the trash can.