He put down his beer with a sigh. All around them, the bar hummed, filled with strangers, but also his family and his friends. His cousin John, for instance, who was regaling the waitress with tales of his recent promotion, was a dork and Patrick could still remember them playing hide-and-seek with him in his parent's kitchen. Or John's bigger brother, now married with two kids, who had replaced his only-child need for a bigger brother, had been so happy about the news, talking about the bachelor party with stars in his eyes. Patrick had vetoed the striptease girl idea right from the start. No need for any of that.

He sighed again. Rachel was there, looking radiant like she should be. It had been a very classic proposal though, a candlelit dinner at the restaurant, a very reasonably-sized ring with no diamonds on top. They had to think of the future, after all, no need for extravagance. That was for the very rich and he didn't envy them. Everything he had earned in life had been through determination.

Well, maybe not Rachel. It hadn't been a smooth ride and it was hard to pinpoint the why. Maybe the need to go look elsewhere, after High School, to be certain that they weren't settling. Or maybe, one of their many fights, that ended with him angry at himself and wondering if all this was worth spending all this energy on. Of course, sex was great, but once you grew up, it became just one of those things in life. Good. Well, satisfying, like scratching an itch. The other girls he had been with had been the same...

He had to stop thinking like that. His life was just beginning and it looked great.

He excused himself and walked to the unisex bathroom. He sat on the closed toilet seat and fought back the tears. That wasn't him. No place for doubts in his head.

But he had them. Weren't you supposed to get cold feet a lot later?

He glanced down at a magazine, open on the stool next to him. Filled with models, looking too thin to be healthy, wearing designer clothing that must cost more than his parent's house. The male model didn't look much better, wearing stuff that looked like it was made with curtains cut in ribbons. Of course, the guy still looked amazing, in a way Patrick could never dream of looking like. He had very blue eyes.

He snapped the magazine shut.

He came back to the table, determined to make things work. After all, life was what you made of it.

"It's alright, Patrick, those things happen. It's better that you realize it now than after."
His mother was kind but she didn't realize. His life had fallen apart. His friends were distant, siding with Rachel and smiling tightly when they met him in the street. His cousin were nice and talked to him a lot, but he could feel they were disappointed. Even at work, it was hard. His boss was Rachel's father and things were not going well at all.

He needed a change. A real one. Because he was suffocating and drowning, and he had lost everything. His apartment, where Rachel still lived on her own. The deposit on the wedding stuffs. His social life, his certainties. It was all his fault. He had to start over.

He fled. Without a second thought. He drove his battered car as far as he could, until he saw a sign. It was a very, very stupid sign but it made him smile. And he liked the motto : "Where everyone fits in."
At this point in his life, he didn't really know who he was anymore, so this was where he would belong. For the time being.

He loved the green everywhere. He had grown up in a small town, but this was even smaller, an aggregation of farms in a semblance of community, a lack of taste that was refreshing. He wandered around, looking for an apartment to let, one not expensive at all, because he didn't have a job yet, and maybe all of this was a bad idea. There were no businesses around, and he wasn't cut out for farm work. Still, it didn't hurt to ask.

He was wrong, there was a business in town. One. The guy was a joke but he greeted Patrick with open arms. He did everything the service industry could offer, from real estate to travel agency, with as much fake sincerity one could ever witness. Patrick liked him for the change in society he provided.

A paper fell from the binder the man was carrying. Patrick bent down to pick it and noticed a blatant error. He voiced it to Ray, who looked like he had found the Holy Grail. Turned out, there was one area he was lacking skills in and that was clerical. After an hour, Patrick had a new job. After two hours, he had an offer to sleep in Ray's guest room, and things went from there, not perfect, and nothing like his old life, but freeing.

He was good at his job, no-nonsense and efficient as ever. His office was in a living-room turned photo studio, but it was enough and the people coming were simple and welcoming. It was like they made up for the spareness with being nice to all. He liked going on hikes and talking to people on the street, that was all his heart could manage with at the moment.

He was sad, a few days later, when Ray told him the General store was closing. That was the start. The town was slowly dying. He wondered how long it would take before he needed to find a new one.

The town council gave him his answer. There was chat on someone taking over the store. He was pointed to a very strange woman, a Mrs Rose, whose son was named David, and he wondered where she lived. Maybe in one of the bigger farm, turned into a well-decorated house. There was clearly more money there than for the rest of the townspeople.

So, he pictured David as a well-off, nicely dressed man and wondered if he played baseball. After all, there was a sport field and it might not be there just for the kids. He resolved to ask around.

That night, he went out for the first time, finding a bar with a lot of noises and little room for conversation. One of the waitresses gave him her phone number, but he lost it before he reached his car. Oh, well, it didn't matter much.

The next day, someone came to Ray's house. It was an experience.

He handed Patrick one of the waiting tickets Ray stubbornly used and introduced himself as David.

"David Rose, you bought the General Store!" This was just a guess but it made sense. Although David was wildly different from the mental image Patrick had of him. He was taller, bulkier and wore dark from head to toe. As they shook hands, Patrick felt large rings and stifled a laugh. For some reason, he remembered the magazine spread with the model. The guy did not have the same delicate features but he was handsome. His skin was very soft.

He was right about him being cultured, though. He used pretentious words, like "oscillate"', and talked like one of these fashion designer you sometimes saw on TV. His mannerism screamed gay and comfortable with it, which was a first for Patrick.

He seemed incapable of normal speech and that was so adorable, Patrick could not help smiling. Especially when his sporting metaphors, that he used without thinking, fell flat over and over. The man was a unicorn. It was fascinating.

Yet, he felt more at ease than he had done with the other town folks, and only realized he had let his sarcastic side show up when David said, with a bitter accent in his voice:
"You're either very impatient or very sure of yourself."

This was so spot on, he felt challenged, but in a good way. This looked like a project. Instead of letting the man fail as he was destined to, Patrick handed him one of his brand new business cards. David refused his help, but Patrick was certain their path would cross again. He looked at him leave the room, head held up high, hand flailing around, and then fell on his desk laughing.