I’ve been standing in front of the heavy metal door leading to the loft for almost five minutes. I haven’t knocked, or made my presence known in any way. I briefly consider turning and going back to the hotel, but before I can chicken out I hear footsteps coming from inside the loft.

The door suddenly begins to slide open, and I’m so fucking relieved that it’s Gus. He looks at me, surprised, and then turns to look back into the loft before quickly shutting the door behind him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demands, his eyes flashing with anger.

I almost tell him to watch his mouth before I realize it’s not my place. And, to be honest, I wouldn’t have expected this visit if I was him either. It was a last minute, probably stupid, decision that I made on a whim, but there’s no turning back now.

I try to think of what I could say to make myself not seem like an inconsiderate asshole that drops in uninvited at his ex-boyfriend’s house after ten years expecting – I don’t know what I was expecting. “I just – you didn’t call me,” is my lame reply.

He hesitates and his eyes soften slightly. “Yeah, well Dad had a bad night. I haven’t talked to him yet,” he tells me. I nod and I’m about to ask if I should come back later when he begins again. “Listen, maybe this isn’t a good idea.  Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know you’re here.”

My eyebrows furrow and I shake my head. “What do you mean? I thought you were going to try to get him to see me.”

Gus puts his hands up. “Woah, I never said that. I’m not on your side here. I said I’d tell him you were in town and maybe he’d want to see you,” he sighs, looking slightly annoyed at my persistence. “I think this is a bad idea. He doesn’t need any added stress right now.”

I shake my head again, confused. “Stress? I’m not going to stress him out. I just want to talk to him,” I almost plead.

His eyes narrow. “It’s been, what, ten years? Why now? Tell me this, Sunshine.” My old nickname nearly knocks the breath out of me. No one’s called me Sunshine in years. I wonder how he remembered that. “If I hadn’t told you he’s sick, would you have still come to see him?” he asks.

I feel like I’m in a corner. I don’t know how to respond to that. “I – I don’t know,” I tell him, resigned.

He shakes his head and he almost looks disappointed – disappointed in me? I don’t know. Just disappointed. “I didn’t think so,” he states. “Look, just go home. He’s already had to deal with you leaving once, don’t make him do it again. He’s not strong enough to handle it right now. He needs to focus on himself. This isn’t about you, it’s about him.” His voice doesn’t have that same edge it had a minute ago. I realize that he really just wants me to leave and never come back.

My head drops. “I know. I know that.” If Gus only knew how much I cared about Brian – hell, care about him still. I just want him to be okay. But then again, I can’t help him. There’s nothing I can do if what Gus told me is the truth.  Maybe I would stress him out. I wouldn’t want to hurt him by leaving again. Maybe Gus is right, he’s not strong enough to take this. Maybe I’d be doing more harm than good. Maybe –

“Gus, who the fuck are you talking to out here?” I jump at the sound of his voice and as the loft door begins to open I almost make a run for it, but I can’t seem to move. My heart starts beating rapidly and I grab a quick look at Gus and see the same panic I probably have in my eyes mirrored in his. But there’s nothing either of us can do because, before we know it, Brian is standing in the doorway in front of us.

My breath catches in my throat. Oh God, I didn’t prepare myself for this. As I look at the man I called my lover for the better part of six years, I can barely recognize him. He must’ve lost a good twenty pounds. His skin is pale and the dark circles under his eyes make me wonder if he’s been sleeping at all lately. His hair is a bit longer than it was the last time I saw him, but it isn’t styled to perfection like it always used to be. It’s unruly and lies against his forehead as if he’s been sweating. Gus mentioned he had a bad night, but I never imagined I’d see Brian like this. He looks so sick – so fucking miserable. My chest tightens and I fight to keep myself from becoming an emotional wreck in front of him.

His eyes cut from Gus to me, lingers there, than back to Gus again. “What the fuck is going on?” he asks. He isn’t speaking as loud as I would’ve imagined, and his voice is gravely and rough. Maybe from vomiting all night, I’m not sure, but it barely sounds like him. He sounds tired and weak, and maybe even a little out of breath.

“Nothing, Dad,” Gus begins. “Justin just –“ he stops. He doesn’t know what to say, how to explain my being here. And it doesn’t matter anyways, because Brian begins again.

“Gus, go to school. You’re already late as fuck.” He’s not even looking at Gus anymore, though. He’s staring at me with an expression on his face that I’ve never seen on him before. Confused, shocked, hurt, and maybe a little embarrassed all at once.

I shouldn’t have come. Gus is right; Brian doesn’t need this bullshit right now. He’s too weak to deal with it. Hell, it doesn’t look like he could deal with much of anything right now. I can’t leave now, though. He already knows I’m here, that I’ve been talking to his son. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

“But Dad –“ Gus begins. I know he wants to stay and referee, or maybe just make sure I get the fuck out of his and his dad’s life. I’m not sure, but I know he doesn’t want to leave me alone with Brian. He doesn’t trust me.

Brian cuts him off, “Go. Now.” His demeanor enters dad-mode, and I think Gus knows there’s nothing else he can say. He sighs and glances back at me with a look that could kill. He’s beyond pissed at me and I sense the silent warning he’s sending my way.

The close connection between Gus and his dad is palpable, and I know that if I upset Brian, it’s Gus I’ll have to deal with. I want to tell him that I’m not going to say anything to hurt Brian, that I’d never do that, but before I can say or do anything, he turns and leaves down the stairs without another word.

All of a sudden, Brian and I are alone, and my panic rises. I don’t know what he’s going to say – if he’s going to yell, or ask me to leave; if he’ll invite me in, as if I never left, and tell me everything I’m dying to know. We just stand there, looking at each other for a long moment before I decide to speak. “Hi Brian,” I try. Real articulate, I know, but I honestly don’t think I could’ve said anything else at this moment.

He blinks. “What are you doing here?” he asks softly. I can’t tell if he’s mad, or hurt, or maybe even relieved. His face is a mask – a mask I’m very familiar with, but a mask that’s impossible for anyone to read.

Ok Justin, time to form a complete sentence. I take a deep breath and begin to explain myself. “I, uh – my mom told me what happened to Debbie. I came to – say goodbye, I guess. You know, pay my respects?”

He nods slightly. “I meant what are you doing here?” I know what he was asking now. He wants to know why I’m at his loft, standing in front of him right now.

I decide to just tell him the truth. What’s the worst that could happen? He could kick me out, sure, but I’ve been there done that a couple times before. “I went to visit her grave and ran into Gus. I knew it was him automatically. He looks just like you, Brian,” I tell him and attempt a small smile. He just stares, waiting for me to continue. “I asked him how you were, and he told me –“ I’m stuck. I don’t know what to say, or maybe I do and I just can’t say it. So I don’t. “I just – I wanted to see you again.”

He breaks eye contact with me and he glances down at himself. He looks uncomfortable, embarrassed. I’ve never seen Brian experience either of those emotions before. I wonder how much he’s changed since I left. I wonder if he’s the same Brian I knew and loved for so many years.

He clears his throat and looks back up at me and spreads his arms slightly. “Well, you’ve seen me,” he says quietly.

“Brian,” I breathe out. “Are you – I mean, is everything –“I struggle to find the right words to say. I sigh, unable to think of anything.

“You want to come in?” he asks me, gesturing toward the inside of the loft.

Did he just invite me in? I look at him and see no sarcasm or anger present in his expression. He really means it. I can’t believe it, but all I can do is smile and nod, relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”