CHAPTER ONE

"Someone Like You"

Dave & Joe's Apartment, Chicago, IL: Wednesday, June 21

Perhaps it was a trick of the video conferencing software he was using but Paul Karofsky looked at least a decade younger than his fifty something years. Dave was sitting out on his balcony overlooking Lake Michigan in a sleeveless Metallica T-shirt, orange board shorts and flip-flops with a cold Coors Light in hand and iPad in his lap. As his dad went on and on about his latest case involving a trio of siblings bickering over their late father's estate, Dave couldn't help but assess the changes in his dad's appearance. His face was thinner. The dark circles around his eyes had faded. The lines in his forehead were less prominent. The only tell-tale sign of his age was his hair which had gone completely gray over the last year and a half. On top of all of that, the slight paunch that used to push up against his Jos. A. Bank blazers was gone. He wasn't exactly sporting a six-pack but at least he no longer hesitated to remove his shirt at the pool.

Dave was proud of his dad. When Paul was his age, he'd already lost his father. That coupled with Burt Hummel's cancer diagnosis a few years back was enough for his dad to reconsider his own health. The man whose diet once consisted of steak and potatoes and nary a green vegetable and who played the occasional game of squash at the Y was now a pescatarian who hit the gym three, four times a week.

"Enough shop talk." Paul settled into his favorite living room chair. "How are things on your end?"

Dave swatted at a fly that had landed on his knee. He looked down at his dad's face on the iPad screen and gave a slight shrug. "Classes are going okay. Work's good. Feel like I'm finally adjusting to my new meds."

"Dr. Thompson said it could take two to three weeks for you to level out."

"I'm just happy to be getting a full night's sleep again," Dave sighed. "Depression's a bitch."

"Well, son, I'm proud of you for getting help. Hopefully your new script will give you some … normalcy."

Dave lifted his beer and said, "From your lips to God's ears."

"And everything else?"

Dave lifted his beer to his lips and smirked. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Dad," he said before taking a swig.

Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Fine. How's your, um, dating life going? You seeing anyone special?"

"Well, yes. Yes I have. I've been seeing George now for about -." Dave stroked his chin with his thumb and index finger. "Two years now? I wouldn't exactly call him special. I mean we only see each other - twice, maybe three times a month. And we always end up at his place where I end up talking about myself until he finally kicks me out. The fact that I have to pay him every time we see each other sorta cheapens things but hey - the things we do for love … and a never-ending supply of happy pills."

"David," Paul sighed.

"I'm kidding, Dad," Dave said through gritted teeth. "I'm not dating my therapist. That would be … unethical, on both our parts. Not to mention, he's a cat person."

"Son, I'm not trying to pry. I think you and I can both agree that I've done a pretty good job of staying out of your romantic life."

"Ugh, Dad - no one says that."

"Sex life," Paul offered. "I try to stay out of your personal life as much as possible. Even before you came out, I wanted you to feel like you had the freedom to do whatever you wanted. And if you messed up, you could always come to me."

"I appreciate that, Dad. Really, I do."

"Your happiness has always been the endgame, David."

"I am happy," Dave blurted. "I mean - I'm not happy all the time. I reckon no one is. But, as far as dating is concerned - I'm just not interested at the moment. And no, it has nothing to do with that. It has everything to do with me trying to balance school and work. I barely have time for a social life, let alone a … romantic one."

Paul leaned back in his seat and folded his hands together. "Just answer me this, and then we'll drop the whole dating conversation."

"Shoot."

Paul's face became like stone as his dark eyes seemed to bore into Dave's soul. He cleared his throat and asked, "Are you lonely?"

"Lonely," Dave repeated trying the word out on his tongue. "I mean -." He swallowed and looked over at the Ficus plant a few feet away. "Yeah - sometimes I do get lonely. But doesn't everybody? It's not like I can be around someone 24/7. That would be exhausting. And as much as I love hanging out with Joe, at some point we have to go to our separate corners and get away from each other for a bit." Dave jerked when he heard something behind him slam. He took a quick glimpse over his shoulder and saw Joe on the other side of the glass door. "Speak of the devil." Dave turned his attention back to his father. "Joe's here and I promised we'd hang out tonight." He grinned and said, "So, you won't have to worry about me being lonely this evening."

Paul sighed and shook his head. Eventually a wry smile filled the lower half of his face. "Impossible. You'll be fifty and I'll be in my eighties living in some retirement community in Florida still worrying about you, kid. I've been worrying about you since the moment your mother told me she was pregnant."

"Okay," Dave said. "Enough of that. There will be no waterworks tonight."

Paul slowly nodded his head. "Will I be seeing you in a few weeks?"

The Fourth was fast approaching and his dad had been hinting at wanting him to come home for the long weekend. While Dave was itching to see his dad and his stepmom and Alex and Olivia, he dreaded the idea of returning to Lima. That place was just filled with too many memories, a lot of them good - most of them not so. As long as he stayed put in Chicago, he could avoid having to deal with all of the ghosts he'd left behind.

"I'll have to check my work schedule," Dave said knowing fully well that the bookstore would be closed that weekend. "I'll get back to you on that."

"That's fine," Paul said. He bit down on his bottom lip and sighed. "I guess I better let you go. Tell Joe I said hello."

"Will do. I'll check on you in a couple of days. Give Kathleen my love, okay."

"Of course." Paul leaned forward so that his entire face filled the iPad screen. "I love you, son. Talk to you soon."

"Love you, too, Dad." Dave's thumb pressed the red "End" button and the image of his dad faded from the screen. He leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. A warm breeze blew overhead, tickling the short hairs on the back of his neck. He opened his eyes to the blue sky above him and let go of the air in his lungs. He tilted his head towards the sound of the glass door sliding open behind him.

Joe Galecki stepped out onto the small balcony and dropped into the other canvas chair. He crossed one pale, hairless leg over the other and popped the cap off the beer bottle he had clutched in his right hand. Dave glanced over in his direction and saw that he was still wearing his work uniform which consisted of an emerald polo shirt with the Brookfield Zoo logo on the front and a pair of khaki shorts. A dark green ball cap was pulled down over his damp curls which were plastered to his forehead.

Dave cleared his throat and asked, "How was work?"

Joe took a swig of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "A little girl got into the giraffe enclosure this afternoon."

"How does that even happen?"

"Well, apparently she was all, 'Mommy I wanna see a giraffe, Mommy I wanna see a giraffe'. Well, guess what - she got to see two of them, up close and personal. I was walking to the restroom, and I just happened to look up and I was like - is that a kid … in the giraffe enclosure? I called security and they ended up getting her out. Her parents were mortified."

"I bet they were," Dave said. "If that was my kid, they wouldn't be allowed out of my sight until they turned eighteen."

"That's the thing. Kids are like magnets when it comes to dangerous shit," Joe said. "Honestly, I don't think there's really anything a parent can do. Kids will always find a way to do something stupid. My sister once swallowed a bunch of Pine Sol because she was convinced it would make her insides smell just as good as our bathroom did."

"I think I'm just gonna skip out on the whole 'having kids' thing. I don't know if I'd be able to handle them drinking household cleaning products or sneaking into an animal enclosure."

"You and me both. My parents were saints to put up with half the shit me and my sisters used to get into." Joe yanked the cap from his head and started fanning himself with it. He glanced down at the iPad balanced on Dave's knee and asked, "Were you talking to your dad just now?"

"Yup," Dave said popping the P at the end of the word. He kept his gaze trained straight ahead.

"How'd that go?"

Dave gulped down the rest of his beer and then sat the empty bottle down next to Joe's. He looked over at his roommate and frowned. "He asked me if I was lonely."

"Lonely?" Dave gave an affirmative head nod. "What did you tell him?"

"Well, I told him yes. Sometimes I do get lonely but it's not the end of the world, you know? I spend most of my day surrounded by people and then I come home and it's you and me until one of us decides to crash. I mean it would be nice to have someone next to me as I fall asleep each night but -."

"You know, Dave, if you want me to come spoon you until you fall asleep, all you have to do is ask." Joe punctuated his statement with a coy wink that sent Dave into a fit of laughter. Joe joined in and when the two of them finally stopped and caught their breath he said, "In all seriousness, I get where you're coming from." He tapped his finger against the cold bottle in his hand. "In the words of the great bard: My loneliness is killing me."

"What about the girl you just met?" Dave asked. "Piper?"

Joe furrowed his brow and asked, "Who?"

"Phoebe?" Dave offered. Joe responded by tilting his head. Dave shot him an exasperated look and asked, "The girl from the bar? Remember she wrote her phone number down on a napkin and asked the bartender to hand it to you?"

Realization finally dawned on his roommate's face. Joe slid to the edge of his seat and angled his body towards Dave. "You mean Paige?" Dave gave a slight shrug coupled with a look that said "I guess". Joe shot him a shit-eating grin and wiggled his thick brows. "Oh yeah," he said dreamily. "Blondes aren't usually my thing but she was … gorgeous. I texted her the moment we got back to the apartment."

"And?"

The grin evaporated from Joe's face. He bit down on the tip of his thumb as he appeared to recall the events of that night at the Celtic Knot. He slowly lifted his head and looked over at Dave. "She texted back saying she was hella wasted and asked me to send her a face pic to jog her memory. So, I did and like ten minutes later she sent me back a text saying oh, I asked him - meaning the bartender - to give my number to the guy you were sitting with. She meant you."

Dave winced but didn't say anything. After a few moments, he could no longer bear the look of devastation on Joe's face, so he looked down at his lap. The screen was lit and there was a notification saying he had a message from Finn Hudson. He couldn't see a preview of the message because he had that feature turned off.

Joe let out a groan and slumped back against his chair. He reached for his beer and took another swig. "Can't say that I blame her," he said. "I mean if I had the choice of the two of us, I'd choose you over me." He lifted his arm and scratched the back of his neck. "I don't want to sound like a whiny teenager but getting rejected, over and over and over again, sucks. Seriously, why can't I find someone my age who is reasonably attractive, who shares a few of the interests I have, and who won't just up and ghost me after a few weeks?"

"Maybe you're just looking in the wrong places," Dave offered. "I highly doubt you're gonna find the person you just described in a bar or some frat party." He cleared his throat and asked, "What about the apps?"

Joe rolled his eyes and grinned. "You gays and your apps. I'll have you know that I have tried Tinder and Bumble. Even Hinge?"

"What the hell is Hinge?"

"It's like the anti-hookup app. The chicks on there are more relationship oriented."

"Any luck?"

"Not really. No one wants a 22-year-old guy still in undergrad who works part-time at the zoo. They all want investment bankers and lawyers and cardiologists."

"Well, it's their loss," Dave said. "You know, maybe apps aren't the way to go. I finally deleted the ones on my phone a few days ago."

"Why? Too many unsolicited dick pics?"

"That's Grindr. I gave that one up a while ago."

"Why?"

Dave laughed and said, "The hookups were fun at first, don't get me wrong. But - this is so fucking embarrassing - I met this guy at the bookstore three weeks ago. He was getting books for the summer class he's taking so I spent like an hour walking around helping him find them. When I handed him his receipt after I checked him out, he signed his name and wrote his phone number underneath and told me to call him."

"Dave Karofsky, you sly dog."

"So, I call him. We make plans to grab coffee one afternoon and then we end up heading back to his place. As we're walking up the stairs to his apartment, I start getting this feeling like maybe I'd been there before. Anyway, we finally reach his apartment, and my Spidey senses are pinging hardcore. He opens the door and right there, main room, his roommates are playing video games." Dave lowered his head and felt the sides of his face start to burn. "Long story short, turns out I'd already hooked up with all three of his roommates. I'd been in that apartment on three separate occasions, and I'd never noticed until that moment."

Joe's jaw hit the floor. "Dude … that is …"

"Embarrassing? I know. I was mortified."

"What did bookstore guy say?"

Dave palmed his face and shook his head. "That part is actually funny. Once he figured out that I'd hooked up with his roommates, he turns to me and asks if I wanted to make it a 4 out of 4."

"Oh my god," Joe whispered. "First of all, this would never in a million years happen to a straight dude. That shit only happens in porn."

"Well, it happened to me in real life and just in case you're wondering, no - I didn't hookup with bookstore guy. I was too embarrassed. It was the first time I felt like …"

"Sebastian?" Joe offered.

"I think Sebastian would argue that he's a hell of a lot more selective when it comes to the guys he bones," Dave said. "Me - I was just … chasing ghosts. It wasn't until my therapist pointed it out that I realized all of the guys I was hooking up with had a real specific look. Tall, pale-skinned, thin … brown hair."

"Kurt."

"Bingo," Dave said.

"So basically, every time you go out, every time you log into one of your apps, you're looking for your ex," Joe said.

"Looks that way. As far as I'm concerned, that's where everything peaked for me. I was never happier than when I was with him. My dad seems to think that I'm missing out on something because I'm not dating, not going out, but I'm like what's the point? Especially since no one is ever going to make me feel the way that he did."

"You both decided to mutually part ways and a part of me gets why you did it," Joe spoke. "But, the other part of me is like, you both got what you said you wanted. You got to stay here and finish your degree. He moved to New York to follow his dreams and from the sounds of it, he did just that. Not many people our age get to brag about working for one of the biggest publications in the world. I just don't get why you insist on being here when you could be with him now."

"Don't you think that's what I want?" Dave snapped. Joe visibly recoiled at his words. "Sorry - I …" He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He then exhaled and slowly opened his eyes. "If I had any inkling that Kurt wanted to get back together, I would've booked the earliest flight to New York months ago."

"He doesn't want you back?" Joe's voice sounded so small, like it was trapped in a hole.

"He's seeing someone now," Dave answered with his head lowered. "A really nice guy who treats him like gold so I can't even hate the bastard properly."

"Oh man, I'm so sorry." Joe leaned over so he could place his hand on Dave's shoulder. "I hate that you've been keeping all of this … bottled up. I hope that you know you can talk to me. About anything."

"It hurts to talk about it," Dave said quietly. "It hurts to think about it."

Joe opened his mouth to say something but decided nothing he could offer would remotely pacify how Dave was feeling. Instead, he hopped up from his chair and turned towards the door. "I'm gonna make dinner. You find us a movie to watch. Preferably one where things are getting blown up."

Before Dave had a chance to protest, Joe pulled back the glass door and slipped inside. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the moisture that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. He swallowed down the emotions lodged in his throat and stood to his feet. He collected their empty beer bottles and his iPad and made his way inside the apartment. He could hear Joe in the kitchen, opening and shutting cabinet doors, as he moved towards his bedroom. The moment he heard the door click close behind him, he walked over to his bed and fell face first onto the mattress.

As he quietly blubbered into his nana's quilt, he remembered the text from Finn sitting unanswered in his iMessages. He slowly rolled over onto his back and reached for his phone wedged between his pillows. He punched in his passcode and then opened the messaging app. He saw the new text from Finn and clicked on it.

Finn: "Hey bro! Got a ? for u! Got any plans for 4th weekend?"

In the entirety of their friendship, Finn Hudson had yet to grasp the concept of sending texts. At first, it would take Dave minutes at a time to decipher what exactly he was saying. Now Dave spoke Finn Hudson with fluency.

Dave sat up and propped his back against the bed's headboard. He held up his phone and pecked out a quick response.

Dave: "What are we doing and when do we leave?"