Sorry for the delay. Thanks for your patience :)

Suggested Listening: "Michigan Left" - Arkells

Take Your Time

~Mirror~

On a windy fall day about halfway through November, Matt and I set out to visit Near at his apartment in the city. Since the parking in the neighbourhood where Near lived was abysmal, Matt left his car in a parking garage, and we got on the LRT. It turned out that the train car we were in was fairly full, and we ended up standing.

The only notable event that occurred during our ride had to do with a pair of girls about the age of my sister, Miranda. They were talking loudly about their shopping plans for that day, and taking up much more room than they needed by placing their bulky bags in an empty seat beside them. Matt was spending too much time looking at the map on the wall to make sure he knew which stop we needed to get off on (and nervously tapping his foot) to even pay attention to the girls, but I found their laughter grating. Then – finally – they each took a breath of air and stopped talking for at least a few seconds.

So, instead, they chose to fixate on us, the two guys standing opposite them.

Once again, they started giggling, but this time I couldn't hear what they were saying because they were whispering to each other behind their hands – but I still had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about by the coquettish glint in their eyes. Giving them a frosty smile that showed a bit of teeth, I let go of the strap I'd been holding and placed my hand over Matt's in his strap, twining our fingers. Matt gave me a quick smile and moved closer to me before turning his attention back to the map. Across from us, the girls had turned bright red and were now giggling more than ever. I gave them a smirk before turning my attention to the scenery outside the window.

Matt didn't notice a thing.

When we got off at our stop, I was already feeling quite pleased with myself and like the morning was off to a great start.

Still feeling a bit proprietorial, I kept a hold of Matt's hand as we walked down the street. Matt wasn't complaining. Besides the few desperate actions I took during the summer (and a few regrettable times I was drunk during my high-school years), I'm not really one for public displays of affection – nor do I actually enjoy people looking at me as much as one would be led to believe. Putting on an act for kicks is fine, but wearing my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see isn't. Matt, on the other hand, just can't help but show how he feels. That's why, if I'm able, I try to meet him halfway once in a while; just because I hate showing weakness doesn't mean that he should get the cold shoulder from me.

"What time do you need to be home?" Matt asked as we walked along the sidewalk.

I kicked at some leaves on the ground, scattering them across the pavement. Autumn always made me feel edgy for whatever reason. Summer was, and will always be, my favourite season.

"Doesn't matter," I replied. "The store's closed today, anyway, but Dad's at home with a cold. He told me to just take the day off; I guess he doesn't want me to tackle the paperwork without his supervision. Maybe he thinks he won't be able to read my writing or something."

He chuckled. "What? Your obsessive-compulsively perfect handwriting?" he teased. "It's more likely he thinks you work too hard – which I would have to agree with."

"Perfection takes effort, you know." My comment earned an eyebrow raise from Matt, which I countered with a sly grin.

He couldn't help but smile. "You're so full of it."

"Good things? I know."

Matt rolled his eyes, and I settled into a satisfied silence, enjoying my win.

We walked for a few more blocks like that, companionably bumping shoulders, until we reached the intersection where we would have to turn onto Near's street. I was entirely unprepared for who I saw across the street. Without explanation, I dropped Matt's hand as if it burned me. Matt gave me a look as he stepped forward to press the button to turn on the crosswalk lamps. I just pointed.

His gaze followed the direction I was pointing. "The guy busking outside of that coffee shop? So?"

"He goes to church with me," I said as if that explained everything – which it really did.

Matt and I both glanced towards the guy – Isaac Newell – again. A small crowd was gathered around him, tossing coins in his guitar case as he crooned and finger-picked a complicated melody. He was pretty good; I'd give him that. That doesn't mean I was any less appalled to see him there, though. Of all the places he could be today, why did he have to be here at this exact moment? Sure – this neighbourhood is adjacent to the university, and Isaac is a Music major; I couldn't care less. At that moment, logical reasoning could go fuck itself.

I wished that the crosswalk lamp would just turn already.

Turning back to me, Matt gave me the look again: the one that said, "Mells, you're being crazy. The world is not designed to inconvenience you." What actually came out of his mouth was: "He hasn't even noticed us. What's the big deal?"

Thankfully, the light turned just then.

"Exactly. Let's not give him the chance." I grabbed Matt's hand again and proceeded to drag him across the street. I heard sputtering and the sound of shoes slapping the pavement, but I didn't slow down to give Matt a chance to regain his bearings until we reached the other side.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?"

I snuck a peek over my shoulder one last time before leaning over and giving Matt a quick kiss that only hit the corner of his mouth. "Today's supposed to be fun. I just didn't want to have to deal with the hassle of meeting someone that's not exactly approving of us."

Matt's eyes suddenly softened in understanding. He gave my hand a squeeze. "We can't just avoid everyone, you know."

I smirked and quirked an eyebrow teasingly. "We could try."

Matt chuckled and shook his head. Putting the encounter behind us, we started walking again. After a few minutes I looked over at him and asked, "Since when have you become so brave?"

He smiled, and colour rose in his cheeks as he puffed his chest out proudly. "I guess I found the right reason to be."

I may have rolled my eyes and nudged him in the ribs afterwards, but on the inside, I was beaming.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Just woke up from a strange dream and it keeps repeating in my head. Maybe if I write it out here, it will leave me the fuck alone.

Tomorrow, I'm going with Matt to see Near's brother for the first time in years. Back when we were kids, Far was just a common fixture in my life like the other satellites that surrounded my friends: their other friends, their parents, their siblings… Now, he's an unknown quantity. I know that Near has some pretty mixed up feelings about his brother, so I have no idea how the meeting's going to go down tomorrow.

That's what my dream was about. We went to Near's place, and everything was normal at first. Then, I started to notice things that no-one else saw.

Near was strung up like a marionette, but he was the master of his own movements. All of his actions were slow and deliberate, but uncharacteristically clumsy. He didn't seem used to his own limbs. His expression was painted on; sad eyes, determined set to his mouth.

Meanwhile, Matt was stretched like rubber between Near and I. Whenever anyone said anything, he would bounce between the two of us, trying to gauge our reaction. He was being stretched so thin, however, that it was ripping a hole in the center of him. But he was smiling, and as soon as we left, he mended.

Then, there was Far and this new husband of his. Their faces were out of focus, as if viewed through peripheral vision, and no matter how hard I tried to look directly at them, I failed. That's easy to understand; they're both pretty much strangers to me – even Far, since it's been forever since I last spoke to him.

But what scared me most was how I looked. When I caught sight of myself in the hall mirror, my face was a constantly shifting blur, flashes of bright, aggressive colours swirling in tight spirals like a tornado. Then, I realized I could still see my eyes peeking through, and it was just a mask, like the ones they used in Ancient Greek Drama. But when I tried to remove it, it was like ripping off my own skin. The mask was already a part of me.

Why is my heart still racing?

Fuck.

I guess I'll just try to go back to sleep.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Before we even had a chance to buzz Near's apartment we heard a voice call to us from up above, "Well, the two of you still look just as short as ever – though that could be because I am ten feet above you right now."

Shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun against the windows, I looked up and spotted Far leaning on the railing of a balcony above us. "I see your ego is just as large as ever," I said. "I bet you've been waiting there for hours just so you could make that comment."

Far yawned. "Actually, I'd say that if anyone is egotistical, it's you. Why would I waste time waiting around just so that I could claim the dishonour of being the first to spot your two ugly mugs?"

"Are you going to let us in?" Matt asked pointedly, eyebrow raised.

"Now that pleasantries have been exchanged, I guess I must." Far disappeared from view, and in a few short moments, the lock on the door beeped, and the red light changed to green.

By the time that we had climbed the two, long flights of stairs, Near was waiting for us at the top, his blank visage practically oozing the excitement that had been caused by our arrival. In other words, none at all.

"Please, Near, contain yourself," I said upon receiving his inspired impression of a statue.

Of course, being the wet rag that he was, Near ignored me. "Hello, Matthew, Mello. Thank you for your punctuality."

Matt gave him an exaggerated bow and a grin. "May we be escorted to your abode? It was a most tiring journey, and I much desire to retire to your drawing-room."

"Absolutely, dear sir." Near actually cracked a small smile at him.

Keeping in the same vein, Matt replied. "Thank you. You, sir, are a gentleman and a scholar."

I sighed. "Well, this is going to be fun." With that, I sidestepped around the two dorks and started towards the open door of Near's apartment –

Where I then nearly planted my face in Far's chest.

"Holy Jesus, you're tall!" I exclaimed, quickly scrambling backwards, all hopes of maintaining a modicum of dignity forgotten.

"And you're so short!" Far laughed, mussing my hair with one of his big hands.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure that you and Near are related?"

Far smiled. "If you think I'm tall, you should meet some of the ladies I model with: tall as a giraffe, fierce as a lioness, the lot of them." His expression suddenly turned startlingly lascivious, his stylishly messy black hair shadowing the fiendish sparkle in his dark-blue eyes. "Speaking of ladies, when I first saw Matt walking up with you, wearing that tight leather number, on his arm, I thought, 'Damn. Since when did that geeky ginger kid grow up to have such good game?' Then, I remembered what Nate told me about you two boning; realized that hot blond walking up the street was not a woman and was, in fact, you; and the rest is history."

"I don't know if you expect me to take that as a compliment; regardless…" – I smiled coldly – "go fuck yourself."

Far pouted.

"Woah, what are you two talking about?" Just at that moment, Matt walked up with Near.

I pursed my lips. "I was just instructing Farley here on a more productive use of his time than handing out back-handed compliments to those that won't swoon over his shit like he's handed them gold."

Far seemed to be finding this whole thing hilarious. "Actually, I was just complimenting Mello's good looks and your good taste." He gave Matt a commiserating look. "Feisty blonds, am I right?"

Bless the boy's good sense; Matt schooled his expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Behave yourself, Farley," Near chastised in a deadpan. Far grinned and made show of looking shamefaced. His act was cut short when someone cleared their throat behind his back.

"Oh! Sorry, Alfster!" Far exclaimed, moving out of the way. "Remind me the next time we go on a date to the circus to buy you a pair of stilts."

"I love it when you think you're being funny," said the short brunet (maybe only an inch taller than Near) that had been revealed to be standing in the entranceway. "Speaking of which, stop sexually harassing people. One of these days, you're going to get charged."

Far leered at Alfie. "But if I hadn't harassed you once upon a time, we wouldn't be married now." Then to Matt and I's horror, he goosed him right in front of us, causing Alfie to turn a red to rival Matt at his most flushed and emit a squeak that sounded like what I imagine a dying mouse would make in the moment of being crushed in Jazz' jaws.

Matt looked over at me. "Shall we see ourselves in?"

"Let's."

We walked straight past them, leaving Near to follow us with a sigh.

I tossed my boots into the closet while Matt took his time carefully undoing the laces on his sneakers, before placing each sneaker individually out of the way. Raising an eyebrow, I chose not to comment on his obsessive-compulsive behaviour (which, considering that he had just teased me about my obsessive-compulsive tendencies this morning, was pretty nice of me).

Instead, I said, "Nice socks."

Matt made a show of wiggling his toes, showing off his mismatched white and black socks. "I'm bi-sock-sual."

I shook my head. "You break my heart."

"What's wrong with a little fluidity of identity?" Far jumped in, obviously finished harassing his husband.

"I've picked up enough of Matt's sweaty socks off the floor to tell you that fluid and Matt's feet together is never a good thing," I quipped.

Near cleared his throat quite loudly. "Would anyone like tea?"

"Hey! I resent that." Matt glared at me. Then, to Near: "Sure. Are we going to wear frilly dresses and eat lemon loaf off of pretty doilies, too?"

Near deadpanned. "Absolutely not."

Matt grinned. "Now that breaks my heart."

"Thanks, Nate," Alfie said as he tried to squeeze through the group of us clogging the entrance. "That would be very nice."

And so, it was with general stupidity and many instances of torment to Near that we finally settled down on the sofa, each with a cup of tea in hand (or, in my case, hot chocolate – of course).

For the first few minutes, no-one said anything. Very quickly, I began to itch to break the silence. Matt was no help; he grabbed a copy of Popular Mechanics off the coffee table, put his head together with Near's, and the two of them began whispering over the contents like two prepubescent boys that had just scored a porn mag. Meanwhile, Far and I stared at each other, daring the other one to speak first. Alfie's eyes ping-ponged between the two of us while he nervously sipped his tea.

"So, what's the story—"

"How did you—"

Far and I shut our mouths like mousetraps.

Alfie cleared his throat.

Far glanced at him before repeating, "What's the story with you two? Near told me this was recent."

I took a drink of my hot chocolate and shrugged my shoulders, feigning nonchalance despite the fact that my hackles were up. "He put up a good fight, but I was impossible to resist."

Matt looked up and gave me a smile, but went back to reading without making a comment.

Far laughed, and thankfully, didn't press. "You know, I could say the same thing about the lengths I had to go to get Alfster here to give me the time of day."

I quirked an eyebrow and directed my question to Alfie: "Really? Having an international supermodel interested in you didn't rev your engine?"

Alfie surprised me by saying with confidence: "It would be the man I was dating, not his career."

"For some people, those lines are blurred. They become what they do."

"I'm not interested in those people."

For some reason, I felt a spark of shame that I swiftly snuffed out.

Near cleared his throat, not even looking up from the page he was perusing. "Perhaps Farley should entertain Matt and Mello with the full story, since he has only alluded to it in an admittedly lewd manner so far. If he does choose to share, I ask that he does so in a manner appropriate to general audiences."

"You mean like how what I heard you and Linda doing last night in your room was 'appropriate for general audiences'?" Far guffawed.

Gross… That's all I can say.

Near's face flushed with indignation. "We were playing dominoes!"

"Ah, I see… dominoes." Far nodded sagely before raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

I rolled my eyes. "The story, please? Anything but this."

Near glared daggers at me. "Hypocrite."

Before I could say anything particularly nasty, Matt shoved the magazine in my face, saying, "Hey, Mells – look! Someone is building a castle made of Styrofoam!"

"Very nice, Matt," I growled, though it was muffled by the paper shoved against my face.

Matt quickly took the magazine away and gave me a sheepish smile and an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. I shook my head, but I couldn't hold back my indulgent smile. If anyone else had tried to shut me up in that way…

Since Near and Far were still bickering, Alfie decided to take the initiative. Setting his cup down on the table, he cleared his throat. "It all started when a drunken man and woman stumbled into the ER, escorted by a police officer."

We all went quiet.

Alfie shyly leaned back into the sofa under our gazes, but he continued on. "At first, all of us nurses thought that it was the woman that had been injured, as she was making the most noise. It was New Years, the emergency room was pandemonium, but her pleas for our help were the loudest. When Rachel, another nurse, went over to take down her information, the woman demanded if we knew who he was. That's when we noticed the rusted piece of metal sticking through the man's foot. The police officer helped to quiet the woman down, and we took the man, who was totally incoherent from the pain and all the alcohol that he had imbibed, back to a room.

"After a surgeon had removed the metal and stitched the wound, we administered a tetanus post-exposure prophylaxis, and moved him to a different room to detox, as it was discovered that his blood-alcohol levels were dangerously high. Although he'd been moved to a different unit, he'd piqued my curiosity, so I went to check in on him the next morning. It was as I was reading his charts that he woke up, and the man I came to know as Far grabbed my ass for the first time."

Far grinned. "And Alfie punched me in the face for the first time! Good thing I'm so patient; he was one difficult boy to woo."

"To clarify, Alfred is referring to the night that Far nearly got arrested for public drunkenness, as reported by the tabloids," Near said.

"Yeah." Far laughed. "I'm either a lucky motherfucker or a total dumbass depending on which way you look at it: when the cop saw that I was making such a fuss because I was injured, he let me off the hook; on the other hand, me and Gaia took that shortcut through the alley, where I stepped on the metal that sliced through my foot. Oh, well… I got to meet my Alfster." Leaning over, Far gave Alfie a very loud kiss on the cheek.

I cleared my throat. "Why did you keep it secret for so long? Actually, better question: how?"

Far shrugged. "The rags only print what they think people want to hear, what they think will sell. But more than that, I'm good at living the way I want to live on my own time, and then playing it up when the cameras are around. Everyone thinking me and Gaia were a couple generated good publicity for the both of us. When it was time for me and Alfie to go public, the PR firm that I work with helped spin it in a way that made people sympathize with Gaia for being cheated on and me for having to hide my sexuality. In all actuality, Gaia's my fag hag, and I wouldn't have her any other way."

"'Sounds like a lot of lies to keep straight," Matt said, not unkindly.

Far's expression faltered for a second, but his grin returned and he shrugged, putting an arm around Alfie's shoulders. "Sometimes you have to lie to be able to be who you truly are."

I took a swig of my hot chocolate and kept my council.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

On the way back to the station, Matt and I walked in silence, both absorbed in our own thoughts. The smoke from Matt's cigarette irritated my nose, but I chose not to say anything.

We paused for a moment as Matt stubbed out his cigarette, crushing it beneath his shoe. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I wouldn't want to live like that. I mean, I spent too long living a lie, and it made me feel torn up inside." He gently grabbed my hands. "Thanks for helping me see that."

I ducked my head, suddenly finding the sidewalk very interesting to look at. "No, Matty – thank you."

All of a sudden, my discomfort was alleviated in the form of Matt shouting, "Hey, you! Get away from there!" He let go of my hand and ran a little ways down the sidewalk.

Bemused, I followed him over to where he was trying in vain to shoo away a magpie that had picked up his cigarette butt and was eating it.

"No, little man!" he cried. "You'll get cancer!"

I deadpanned. "You've got to be kidding me."

The magpie gave a strange gurgle that sounded eerily like laughter, swallowed the cigarette butt, and flew away.

Matt stared after it, looking as pathetic as a deflated party balloon.

"C'mon, Matty. Buck up." I patted him on the back. "Those things are as indestructible as roaches; it'll be fine."

Matt didn't seem convinced, but he continued walking with me, anyway.

"Why did you get cigarettes for me when we younger, even though you didn't like me smoking?" he asked after a while.

I surprised myself by flushing with embarrassment. "… It was stupid."

"C'mon, Mells… You never do anything without having a good reason for it."

"I can't say I remember it right now…" I coughed, knowing I wasn't fooling him in the slightest.

Matt frowned. "What does that make us when we do things that we know are wrong just to keep the people we love happy?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Human, I guess."