Timmy stared into his glass of beer, focusing intently on the suds and how the light played on the liquid. There was an obnoxious thud to the music in this place and it was hurting his head. He never got this drunk. He felt his phone vibrate for about the tenth time, and he ignored it again. He already knew who it was, and he didn't want to deal with it. He couldn't deal with it.

"Hey, this seat taken?"

"What?"

He looked up to see a petite blonde girl looking him over as she sat next to him at the bar. "I haven't seen you here before. You look sad."

"Oh, uh...no, just...one of those days, you know?"

"Yeah. Well, one of those days for me, too, I guess. I can pick 'em. Just thought I'd come talk to a fellow lonely hearts club member, ya know?"

They exchanged a friendly, tipsy laugh.

"Say, uh..." offered Timmy. "Would you...would you like to go someplace a little less...horrendously loud?"

The woman brushed the hair from her face with a sly smile. "Yes. Yes, I would. But I can't promise not to get loud."

Russell texted Timmy a twelfth time.

"Maybe he lost his phone." He chuckled softly. "That's so Timmy!"

Denial. The texts had been desperate and angry, in total opposition to his present false demeanor. He changed the channel on the TV as he ate the last of the cold Chinese food. This sucked. He kicked the table.

How could Timmy do this to him? Russell had been having what was probably the happiest time of his life, and Timmy had just up and left. He'd been gone for nearly six hours now, and not a word. He had lied to him, straight to his face, and abandoned him. Timmy wasn't any different from anyone else in his life. He had left. They all leave, eventually. Fuck him.

God damn it, why wasn't he texting back?

Maybe something had happened to him. Russell felt a sharp pain in his chest, a moment of worry, and then he settled back on a weird mixture of disappointment and anger. No, Timmy was fine. Just a jerk.

Russell hated feeling this way. Vulnerable, needy. He worked so hard to keep himself together and on top of things, a cool cat, casual and slick. Somehow, he was turning into a forlorn lover, and he felt pathetic. He wanted Timmy to come back; he wanted him so much it hurt. He wanted to feel him, to hear him say his name, for him to will a touch and not be repulsed by the idea. Maybe Timmy hadn't meant any of it, maybe it had all been a huge mistake.

That's it. He had left because he was so sick he had gone to throw up and he would never ever talk to Russell again as long as both of them were alive.

"I should text him again."

No, no, don't do it, no.

He got a text; in desperation he flicked the screen, only to read a message from a random woman with a proposition for sex. Normally this would have been an instant win. A rare score, a bizarre roll of the dice in his favor. So why wasn't he jumping on it?

He thought about it for a minute. He texted back finally, "Sorry baby, busy tonight," and went back to waiting for Timmy. Immediately after doing this he sneered at himself sickly, eyes wide. "Wait wait wait, what am I, insane?!" And rushed to type back: "Just kidding, where do you wanna meet?"

A message back: "Sorry pal, you snooze, you lose."

"You snooze, you-jeez, it was like point two seconds ago." Then shaking his phone in aggravation: "Where the hell is he!" Then, softly, painfully, "Where the hell is he...?"

They'd had sex. She was asleep on the bed. Timmy hadn't wanted to take her home so he had sprung for a cheap motel downtown, and now he felt dirty and a little sick. This was completely out of character for him. Somehow he felt that he was becoming more and more like the company he kept, and running away from said company was only making it worse.

Timmy looked to his watch. 5am. He'd somehow spent the whole latter of yesterday at this; bar hopping, bedding this strange woman, and he couldn't really remember any of it.

He looked to the figure laying beside him. He'd used her to get back at Russell, he knew he had, and he had never been more ashamed of himself. She was a nice enough girl, drunkenly sarcastic with him as they had gone about their business. She hadn't seemed interested in him really for anything other than quick sex. He watched her now as she slept, smelling the alcohol on her. Her hair soft, in short cut blonde layers. Petite in stature-

Wait. Wait a minute. He was starting to realize something, now.

He stared very intently at the woman beside him; at subtle little hints about her, until something snapped in his brain and he realized what he had done. "Oh. Oh, my." She had reminded him of Russell. In some weird center of his brain, her personality, the hair, the stature, some part of this girl had triggered his Russell-neurons...and he'd taken her to a sleazy little out of the way place. He stood slowly to his feet, rubbed his temple firmly. "I've pulled a Radha." He set about getting dressed, not sure where he was going or what he was doing. He'd hit rock bottom. He needed a large, black coffee. He needed to get this straight in his head once and for all, before his brain exploded into a million pieces right there on the spot and they were forced to commemorate this rundown little fleapit in his name.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked to his notifications. 14 new messages. He hesitated briefly and took the plunge. All from Russell. He took a deep breath and began reading.

Timmy where are you?

What the hell happened?

Scrolling.

How the fuck could you do this to me?

Scrolling.

I don't even like Chinese anyway we could have ordered Mexican. Or Indian you like Indian right?

Fine don't answer me I don't want to talk to you anyway.

Scrolling.

Gandhi wasn't even that great of a guy.

Timmy rolled his eyes. "Ouch."

I didn't mean to do whatever I did please come back I need you.

I'm sorry I lied I do have your sweater. I just needed to have something. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. I guess I still need it.

A soft breath. "Well, then."

Scrolling.

Fine ignore me. Fuck you.

Last message: I'm sorry please don't hate me. I won't message you anymore.

Timmy sighed deeply, reaching to place the phone back into his pocket, when another text came in. He looked to the screen.

I love you.

Brow furrowed, Timmy bit a lip. He looked to the girl on the bed with a heavy sigh, then back to the phone. His fingers moved deftly over the letters, spelling out the words I love you, too - and then promptly erasing the message and sliding the phone back into his pocket.

He finished getting himself put back together, and headed for the door. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he couldn't stay there.

He would find some excuse to call into work, something he hated doing, and wander the city for as long as he could until around noon, when he would find somebody to talk to...

"Mrs. Bingham. Hello." Timmy grinned widely as Audrey opened the door, and she returned the jovial welcome.

"Oh, Timmy, I haven't seen you since the hospital, come here." She gave him a warm hug. "To what do I owe the visit? Shh, baby's sleeping."

He followed Audrey inside her apartment, closing the door behind him. "Oh, just checking in on the happy home. And I'll be quiet so as not to wake her, then. How is little Shea?"

"Oh, she's doing just great. Settling into apartment life. Can't say the same for mommy and daddy though, I'm starting to really regret all those times I said I was tired on nine hours of sleep."

Timmy smiled with a light laugh.

"Yes, I don't suppose one gets much sleep with a newborn."

"Well, Jeff has yet to take diaper duty. Or bottle duty. Or...well, you get the idea."

"Yes, indeed."

"Photo shoot on Saturday, you and Russell are coming, right?"

"Oh, yes, right, Mr. Dunbar mentioned that. Lovely idea, wouldn't miss it."

"So, how's married life?" Audrey asked with more than a touch of sarcasm.

"Strange." There was a sincerity to Timmy's voice that made Audrey pause.

"...Yeah? How's Russell handling it?"

"About that, I...Mrs. Bingham, might I be open with you? On the condition that Mr. Bingham not be privy to our conversation, because I believe that could be rather disastrous. You see, it took quite a bit of courage on my part coming here and I'd hate to think it misplaced, so..."

"Of course, Timmy. I mean, I consider us good friends, I'd like for you to feel that you can trust me."

"Very well, then. Uhm...well, I suppose there's no easy way to say this, so..." Timmy waited a moment and then began to spit out words. "I believe that something may be developing between Russell and I. To put it more than a little mildly."

Audrey stared silently for a moment. "Oh." A beat. "You mean..." Timmy nodded. "You mean, like..." Another nod. Her voice went deeper. "Ohhhhh..."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"No no no, you should have, it's okay, uh, uhm...what...what makes you think this...exactly?"

"Well, you see, uhm...that night after we left the hospital he sort of...he...maybe I should leave."

Timmy turned to walk away and Audrey went after him, regaining herself.

"No, Timmy, I'm sorry, please, if you need to talk you can trust me, I'm all ears and I swear, I won't tell Jeff." She gave him an open smile and a soft, caring voice. "You seem really worried about this, are you okay?"

Timmy furrowed his brow. "May I sit down?"

"Of course."

They joined one another on the sofa, and Timmy placed his face in his hands, groaning.

"Mrs. Bingham, I think I'm going insane." He looked to her. "I think...I believe that...Russell is genuinely in love with me."

Audrey resisted pulling a face or reacting in any way, this time. "What...makes you think this, Timmy?"

"Well, for one thing...he told me so. Quite unequivocally, in both words and actions, let's say."

Audrey sighed out a long sigh. "Hoo boy. Well, that'd do it." She watched as his face turned down, his legs shaking nervously. "And uh, are you...hmm?"

"I...don't...know."

"Well, uhm, Timmy...what you're telling me is...insane, though not as shocking as it probably should be, given what I've witnessed between the two of you. Listen, let me tell you what I know about Russell. In the time I've known him, I've seen him do some pretty terrible, despicable things. What I saw him do in that hospital was one of the least awful things I've ever seen him do."

"That doesn't seem to be saying much."

"Well. His face lit up. I think he meant it."

"What do you mean?"

"He wanted to marry you."

"...Did he?"

"Yeah. Something really strange has happened to that man in a short period of time, and you did it to him."

Timmy found himself smiling thoughtfully. "Did I? What on god's green earth did I do, because I for one haven't been able to figure it out."

"I think you just accepted him. You put up with him. He's hard to put up with, you know that better than anybody."

"Yes, I certainly do." He nodded. "It's just that...well, we aren't...neither of us are..."

Audrey wove a hand gently, urging Timmy to complete his words.

"We're straight, Mrs. Bingham, I'm straight, I like women, I love women, and Russell is renowned for loving women, my god, he's a straight up slut for women."

Audrey's eyes widened as she nodded in agreement. "Well, yeah."

Timmy was starting to lose his cool. "But certain...things...have happened, and I mean, this isn't something that just happens, this isn't a switch that just gets flipped one day!"

Audrey scootched away ever so gently. Timmy was forgetting where he was, building up to a tangent.

"I mean how does such a man as Russell Dunbar suddenly start making homosexual advances towards another man? I mean how in the ever loving hell does this happen, and why have I willingly conceded to these advances, damn it Audrey, what's happening?!"

Timmy, realizing he had lost his cool, looked at Audrey with wide eyes, face blank, jaw gaped. He spoke softly: "Oh, I'm ever so sorry. Perhaps I should be going after all, I shouldn't burden you with this."

"Uh, Timmy, would you like my advice?"

He looked to her, dejected.

"Talk to him. Like I said, I've known Russell for a long time. He's not the greatest guy in the world, but then who is? He's just...well, he's Russell. We all love him for who he is. And I've never known him to care about anything as much as he seems to care about you. I can't claim to be an expert on human sexuality or even human relationships, I mean hell, I married Jeff Bingham. But I do know that we've been married for long enough and been through enough crap, and we've stuck it out and gotten through it. And you and Russell have been hanging around each other for how long now?"

"...Five years, more or less."

"You coulda left, you had every reason to. Found another job. Plenty of opportunities, I'm sure. You're a smart cookie, you could have owned the company by now."

Timmy nodded. He exchanged a small, knowing smile with Audrey.

"Talk to him."

"Yes. Thank you very much, Mrs. Bingham."

Russell had forced himself to go to work. A weird feeling, something reminiscent of responsibility, had kicked in. He blamed the company he had been keeping. Even if that company presently was being a crummy little dirt bag who hadn't answered his phone for a whole day.

He had been doing little else aside from swiveling in his office chair for the past couple of hours. He might have had a stack of papers a mile high on his desk by now, he wasn't sure; he knew his assistant kept coming in, mumbling things he didn't care about, adding to the pile, and creating new piles. Once in awhile he would say something to the guy to the effect of, "Yeah, take care of that," to appear as if he was still in charge and micro-managing.

"Hey, Russell?"

"Yeah, take care of that."

"Take care of what?"

"Huh?"

"Russell, it's me, it's Adam."

"What?"

"Aaadam Rhoooodes."

A hand stopped Russell's chair from moving, and Adam waved his other hand in front of Russell's face.

"Oh, God, dizzy. Adam?"

Adam chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I said. What have you been doing in here? There's like a million papers on your desk."

Russell looked around. "What the hell? That guy out front keeps giving me work to do, he's the worst! Timmy would have had all of this crap taken care of for me by now."

"Yeah, well, Timmy doesn't work here anymore, so you might want to think about actually doing your job again."

Russell sneered. "Blech. Do I have to?"

"Up to you. Anyway, I'm on break, you wanna go do something, grab something to eat? It's kind of quiet around here now, without...well, you know. I guess we kind of both lost our break buddy, didn't we? I've been hanging out with the new guy in accounting, but it's not the same, he kind of smells like Cheetos."

Russell stared through Adam. "...What?"

Adam continued, unphased.

"Yeah, Timmy and I used to do all kinds of stuff, like when we had the ping pong table, oh or the foosball the one time, we kicked so much ass. We'd get donuts in the break room, he used to do...stuff to yours, forget I said that. Anyway, kind of miss him around here."

Russell wasn't really listening, but he'd picked up on the crucial bits and couldn't handle this line of dialogue. "Yeah, I can't...I have to...work."

Adam laughed, leaning over and hitting Russell in the shoulder. "Ha! Good one, buddy, let's get out of here."

"Yeah," said Russell softly, "I don't...I just don't feel like it, okay. Maybe later."

Adam's smile dropped, replaced by a look of concern. "Hey, you need to talk? Newlywed to newlywed?"

Russell's voice grew louder as he put back on his air of mild annoyance. "Oh, c'mon, don't get gay on me."

"Says the guy married to a dude."

Trying not to scream a little too loudly: "Drop it!"

Adam changed his tone, putting up his hands in surrender. "Whoa, hey. Listen, I'm just kidding. Is there...is there something you need to talk about, Russell? Seriously, you seem tense."

Russell stood slowly, tapping the desk awkwardly. "No. No, there's nothing, uh...lunch. You...you wanted lunch? Let's go get Timmy."

"What?"

"Lunch, let's go get lunch."

"You...said let's go get Timmy."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, Russell, you...you kinda did."

Russell whined, despite his better efforts. "I kinda didn't! You can't prove I did! Shut up already, I thought you were hungry!"

"But...you did."

"But I didn't!"

Adam narrowed his eyes. "Is this like the time we were at the arcade and you lost like twenty times in a row and you kept telling me the knob was stuck but it clearly wasn't stuck? You're, like, the worst liar ever sometimes, Russell, and you're lying to me about something right now. Remember, we used to hang out way too much, I kind of know you a little bit."

Russell growled through his teeth, then sighed. "Listen, dude, I don't want to talk about this. Drop it, as a personal favor, okay?"

Adam nodded, turning to walk away, but turned back sharply. "Let me ask you something, and then I'll drop it."

Russell nodded.

"Is there, like...is there seriously something going on, here? Between you and Timmy?"

Russell shifted his eyes, feigning innocence. "Wwwhat do you mean?"

Adam hesitated. "Well, it's just...listen, Jen and I were talking. The other day things were kind of weird in the diner. And whenever Timmy's name comes up these last couple days you get super defensive. I'm not gonna say anything, dude, I swear. It's not a big deal. I've had my suspicions. I mean, Timmy has that accent."

"Uhm...he's British."

"Well, he's South African."

"Whatever."

"I mean, you guys do hang out together an awful lot, though. And not necessarily in a buddy-buddy kind of way."

"...What are you trying to say?"

Adam cleared his throat.

"It's just that you guys are married now, and if there were something going on between the two of you, me and Jen would totally understand. I mean, at first it was pretty weird, but we've gotten used to the idea. It's kind of gradually led up to it over time, and-"

Russell's reaction was a tad over-dramatic. "We're not gay for each other, dude! I'm totally straight! I love women, you know how much I love women! I LOVE boning hot chicks! Totally the opposite of gay!"

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't care if you were! Gay, bi, flexible, we're all just human!"

Russell turned from Adam in aggravation. "Uggggh, you and that hippie mom of yours..."

"You're my bro, I wouldn't care! Just think about that, okay? Just let that sink in. Let...that...sink...in." Adam smiled and turned to walk away. He looked back hesitantly. "I didn't mean for that to sound...like, super gay...or anything. I should probably just go, now."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Adam left, and Russell rushed back to his desk, collapsing into his chair and allowing his head to fall back hard before letting out a long moan. If Adam had somehow managed to figure it out, then everybody knew. Every. Body. Knew. Here he thought he was so slick, and everybody knew exactly what was going on.

And he still had no idea where Timmy was.

"Uggggh, this sucks."

He gently picked up his head and reached for Timmy's sweater under the desk, hesitated, and left it where it was. Where was he...?

He looked to the stacks of papers on his desk, began to reach for them...and set back instead to staring at the wall, swiveling in his chair.