Life.

There had been a time when Vincent Chase had been a rising star in Hollywood, the guy with the supermodels on his arm that all the girls wanted to be with and all the guys wanted to be like. He had been comfortable being idolized because he was still just a guy from Queens at the end of the day, and whenever his head got too big, he had his boys to put him back in his place. He had come to California to make movies and meet girls; the rest of it had just come along once someone decided he was famous enough to be called a bonafide star. It was only after the money stopped rolling in and Hollywood forgot his name that he remembered that none of it really meant a thing.

His career had tried to recover after the mess that was Medellin, but when Gatsby failed to garner critical or box office success, he was written off as another flash in the pan. He still had his paycheck from the Scorsese flick tucked away, so it wasn't like he was going to struggle any time soon. He had plenty of money to wait it out until the next script came along or while he decided whether he should go back to New York for a few weeks on stage. He was starting to miss public transportation, real bagels and cold weather – just a few of the genuine things he had never been able to find in California.

"E, maybe I should go back to New York for a few months," he suggested one night while they were sprawled out in the living room. Turtle was staying with Drama now that the boys had to downsize to a smaller house. It's just three bedrooms but still spacious and near the beach. "I'm not doing anything out here, and that producer is still after me to do his play. It'd be good to act again."

Eric looked up from his end of the sofa and shrugged nonchalantly. Whatever Vince wanted at this point, Eric would support. He just wanted to get him out of this house and back to work. It wasn't good for Vince's confidence to be cooped up all day, getting high and hooking up with whatever girl he happened to find on his way to the mailbox. "Yeah, sure, we could get back to the city for awhile if that's what you want."

Vince appreciated that Eric didn't even hesitate to agree to come with him. It was just assumed that he would pack up and head back to the East Coast if Vince left. They both knew that Vince had never been good at being alone, and the truth was that Eric didn't really know what to do with himself if he wasn't taking care of Vince. "What about the agency? We're kind of living off your salary, righ? I mean, I could get a draw from my savings to support us out there until I start making money."

"They have an office in New York, Vin, don't worry," Eric shook his head before changing the channel from some History Channel documentary to ESPN for a Mets game. "I promised you that I would take care of us until you figure it all out. I'm not in any hurry. I can do my job in New York just as well as I can do it here. That's why they have planes, right? Besides, you'd want to come back to see Johnny and Turtle, so you could come with."

Eric had done a great job of keeping Vince above water these past few months while he tried to figure out what he wanted to do with his career. When he had thought about doing that low-budget indie movie last month, Eric had been at every audition, practicing lines in whatever dingy little space the production company had managed to secure that day. When he had considered picking up a few foreign commercials, Eric had helped him narrow down the list of products and companies he was willing to promote. When he had been offered a few hundred grand to be on that reality competition show, Eric had been the one to agree that it was a bad idea, no matter what Ari tried to convince him. He wasn't sure of many things right now, but Eric Murphy was always going to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

"Do you ever miss the city, E?" Vince asked, hoping that Eric would confirm that he missed it terribly. It was the only way he could justify asking him for this, to give up the life he had so carefully built just for him. The thing that Vince didn't seem to get, the thing that Eric couldn't quite put into words, was that this life had been built around Vince. He was the center of everything for Eric. When he was off balance, they were both off balance.

"Sure, Vince, I miss it all the time," Eric lied. The truth was that he didn't really miss living in Queens because it wasn't home anymore. Home was wherever Vince was because other than his mother, Vince was the only thing Eric had ever really counted on. "Maybe if we go back, I could actually see some decent sports other than basketball."

Vince's eyes darted to the screen where the Mets were up by four in the bottom of the seventh. When Eric had started to cut corners, their satellite package was one of the few places where he stood his ground. Eric had to have his full sports package, complete with all the Madison Square Garden and New York channels that showed his hometown teams. It had quickly become one of their largest sources of entertainment.

"Come here," Vince demanded as David Wright hit a ball deep into the left field for a triple. Eric muted the screen as he sat up and leaned over the couch to meet Vince's lips. His pale fingers tangled in Vince's dark curls, humming contently. This was the other source of entertainment since they'd been enjoying in the new house. It was kind of Vince's favorite. "I want to go home."

"So we'll go home," Eric promised before kissing Vince again. "My boy will be a big hit on Broadway."

They leaned back again, only this time with Eric folded comfortably against Vince's lanky frame. Eric unmuted the television just in time for Barajas to take his turn at the plate. His other hand was entwined with Vince's against his abs, the whole thing so completely domestic that sometimes he still waited for Vince to freak out. But then he dropped a kiss on top of Eric's head and told him to turn it up and groaned at the 2-0 count. It was then that Eric was sure that everything was going to be just fine.