The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) (22 page)

Those stories were wilder than any fiction, and Pierce wasn’t sure what to do with them. He scribbled some of them down, some he didn’t have to. He was sure they’d haunt him for a lifetime. But even with that, he was annoyed he couldn’t help. He was disturbed that all he could tell them was to hang on and to keep fighting. His only sage advice to the young ones was to clean up and try and get a job in Manhattan, but even that felt ironic when himself had only managed to do so after forty or so places, and had got a job with a crazy guy because Vance
was
crazy. Good, but certainly not your normal boss. Knowing him now it didn’t surprise him he had hired Pierce after confronting him. But not every homeless was Pierce and not every boss was Vance.

He didn’t promise them anything. He promised himself, leaving each and every one to their fate, that he’d find a way to help, if not them, the ones that would come after them because he knew there would be more. Who said the world was getting more accepting? Just because the Supreme Court had legalized gay marriage across the nation didn’t mean the brains, thoughts, morals, and workings of its people changed with it. If anything, those people who spewed their intolerance left and right were getting more vocal, more infectious, even.
 

After noon had passed, he received a message from Rafe telling him a good morning and another I love you, but when Pierce replied his phone remained silent. He was probably busy talking to Wang about whatever it was he wanted to talk about. He was staring at his black and white phone screen, about two blocks from the flat, when his ear caught the leftovers of a conversation.

“I’m telling you man. Facebook is da shit these days. You wanna make money? You Facebook it. You wanna start a business? You Facebook it. You wanna say your penny of a thought? You Facebook it. Everyone’s on fucking Facebook nowadays,” the guy was saying to his friend, a couple walking in front of Pierce.

The other guy started to dispute the validity of his friend’s words, but Pierce’s brain had already lit up. He used to have a Facebook page, but when no one had been there for him when he needed a bed, a couch, a chair to sleep on, when no one had got back to him, he deactivated it. But now he thought it was time to turn it back on again. Perhaps talking to his ‘friends’ about the situation in the streets, he’d change their minds. Make them more generous. More open. More helpful. And why lie to himself? Maybe actually get someone to see his pictures and make some money. Perhaps a newspaper would want to write an article about homelessness in America and want to use his picture to publish it with. The possibilities were endless. He had to try.

He found an internet cafe inside a convenience store and logged into his account. He was welcomed back on the website and was hit by the pompous newsfeed of his ‘buddies’’s self-indulgence. He connected the SD card to the computer and loaded up his favorite photos from today on his wall with a few words about some of the people on the pictures. Not long before he posted an album of ten pictures he got two likes and a comment.

“Those are incredible and heart-wrenching. Make a Page and put them up. That way more people will see them,” a girl named Tanya Kosowski said.
 

He didn’t know her. She was one of those people you added when you first created an account and found random people you have next to zero mutual friends to boost your friendship count. He might not have known her, but he followed her suggestion almost instantly.

A half hour later, his phone buzzed, but he ignored it, his mind too occupied by his current activity to be distracted.

He finished uploading the same pictures he’d posted on his own wall, only he’d made a separate post for each of them with the stories of the people attached to them. He wrote them like eulogies, as if they’d already died, not because he wished it upon the subjects of the photographs, but because he felt that they were all doomed, and perhaps if people saw how doomed they really were they’d help more profoundly.

Only when he hit ‘post’ to the last upload, did he check his phone. He got a text from Rafe.
 

‘What time are you coming?’ the message read.

‘On my way now. Did you talk with Wang?’ Pierce messaged back.

Pierce paid for his time on the computer and left the store. The reply came in a single word that almost gave Pierce a heart attack.

‘Yes.’

Pierce was back at the apartment in less than ten minutes, and Rafe was thankful; he wanted to get the problem out of the way as soon as possible and move on. He was still trying to calm his nerves when Pierce returned and seeing him helped. Wang had locked himself in his bedroom as if nothing had happened, and Rafe pulled Pierce into his to talk to him. Pierce seemed agitated. Perhaps he could see the frustration in Rafe’s face.

“What’s going on, baby?” he asked, and Rafe’s heart skipped a bit.
 

He still couldn’t get over the fact that they were finally together, what a great night they’d had last night. He also couldn’t believe that the magic of their first time had to be overshadowed by yet another problem in their happy ever after, but he guessed they might as well get that out of their way before moving forward with their lives once and for all.

“I spoke with Wang,” Rafe started, “and he wasn’t happy that I invited you over for the holidays. And I explained that you were in an accident and all, but now he’s saying that if you don’t leave then
I
can’t stay here anymore either,” he tried to say as slowly as he could to soften the blow, but it still hit Pierce hard. He took a seat, clutching his stomach and stared at the floor rather than his boyfriend.

“God! I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and there it was. The guilt pouring out of him as it had before. The sulking and the blame all mixed into his voice and his body language. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I thought you’d told him and…anyway it doesn’t matter. I’ll take my stuff and go. I wouldn’t wanna—,” he continued, but Rafe couldn’t let him finish that sentence.
 

That guy. That fucking guy. Pierce would do everything for him and he knew all he needed from the sentence he didn’t let Pierce finish. He would sacrifice his own health and safety to keep Rafe out of harm’s way. He would return to the streets rather than have Rafe homeless and unmedicated. That’s was one of the thousand reasons why he loved him. Yet, he was failing to realize that they were a couple now. And they would face their problems together.

“Pierce,” he knelt next to him, “don’t blame yourself. That guy is a douchebag. A heartless douchebag. I mean, who does that? Who kicks two sick guys out of his house? Don’t take this on your shoulders,” he told him, massaging his knee, trying to find Pierce’s eyes, which were lost somewhere in the empty space.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Moments later he got up with a look of strain and pain in his face and got a couple books from the shelf above the bed, then zipped up the wardrobe and started to stuff his countless shirts in a small bag.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rafe asked.

Pierce didn’t stop.
 
He didn’t look at Rafe either. “I’m gonna go. Like I said, I’m sorry for ruining your life,” he mumbled.

“Ruin—,” Rafe tried to say the word but choked on its hardness. He grabbed Pierce’s arm and stopped him. He got in front of him and put both his hands on Pierce’s cheeks, then looked him straight into the abyss of his eyes. “You. Gave. Me. My. Life. Back. Never say that you ruined it ever again. Okay?”

Pierce’s eyes turned red and the tears started falling, wetting Rafe’s palms. “What do you even want with me? I destroy everything I touch. I’m a nobody,” he sobbed.

Rafe couldn’t help feeling like wrapping him around his arms and smacking him in the head, both at the same time. That guy. He was fucking clueless. “You are my world,” he said, making sure every word made an impact on him.

“No. I make this world cruel with my presence. That’s why nobody wants me around. That’s why my parents kicked me out. That’s why Vance sent me away—,” he kept muttering to himself.

Rafe shook Pierce’s head to bring his attention back to him. “Listen to me you
idiota
, anyone who wants you out of their life, doesn’t deserve you in it. Because you make this world a sweeter, more beautiful place. You make my life better. You make my life worth living. Crappy life has given us each other, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we make a fucking good team. So stop beating yourself, put your things back where they were, and sit down. Because you are going nowhere. Okay? If someone has to leave this place it will both of us. Together. Okay?” He shouted at him and his own eyes stung, but he didn’t care now. All he wanted was to get Pierce to stop.

And he did. He stopped crying and kissed Rafe. It was a salty kiss, but it was their strongest yet.

The both sat on the bed and Rafe wiped both their eyes before continuing. “So since the dickhead wants us out, I thought maybe it was time we went with our initial plan and found a place together.”

“That sounds good,” Pierce whispered, and chuckled when Rafe rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a drama queen,” he apologized.

“Oh,
cariño
, you’re the biggest one of all.”

They kissed again and this time they both felt calm.

“How are we going to afford it, though? Last time you didn’t have a job and it was a pain in the butt. Now I don’t have a job and I doubt things in the market have changed in the last couple of months,” Pierce asked, seemingly ready to deal with reality.

Rafe shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Okay? We still have some time. He gave us to the end of the month. So we’ll figure something out,” he added.

Pierce nodded but didn’t seem so sure. Rafe wasn’t sure himself how they were gonna deal with the paperwork, and all the crap that came with looking for a room, but he wouldn’t stress about it right at this moment. He preferred to spend some quality time with his boyfriend than worry about tomorrow. Stress would solve nothing. Plus he was working the next day; he could ask for the sage advice of Vance. He might have a solution. The important thing was that he and Pierce stuck together. They could conquer the world if they were. And that was what he wanted Pierce to see. That they were better together than apart.

Rafe sliced the orange peel and squeezed it over the glass, then dropped the twist into the Cosmopolitan. He put the glass on the tray with the others and started the next ticket. It was Friday night at Les Fourches and the place was packed with people dining or wining. He was on bar duty today. Vance had told him he was thinking of promoting Rafe to supervisor now that the old one was leaving, and he was working so many more hours a week he’d had no time to look for an apartment with Pierce, who was still resting at home and doing his morning photographic sessions routine.
 

He was good. He was getting better and grungier day by day and he loved what he was doing. He spent the afternoons uploading pictures on Facebook and his evenings reading books or viewing apartments. It had been two weeks, however, and they’d had no luck with their search.

It was being November all over again, only this time they didn’t have the funds to actually move into any apartment, despite having a guarantor in Vance. One would think with Rafe’s overtime he’d have a small fortune saved by now, but they’d had no such luck. They still had to pay Wang and their bills. Uncle Sam was being a pain in the butt the more hours Rafe worked, and dealing partially with Pierce’s hospital bills, it was all in their way of finding a new house. He was basically working for two people and the money wasn’t enough. Even the tips didn’t help. With the Christmas spirit more empty than ever people went back to their stingy selves and business had dropped during the week, so anything Rafe managed to make was during the coveted weekend. Vance had to drop three staff members — who had only been hired for the season anyway — so that meant Rafe had longer, but less-rewarding work days. Hopefully, he’d get the supervisor position soon enough, because it came with a pay rise, and he sure could do with that.

Not that he was complaining. Three months ago he had nothing. He had no job, no house, no friends, no family. Now, he had all. So what if it came with a few road blocks? They were part of life, right? Whenever he’d dream before he had anything, having everything had meant waving goodbye to unnecessary drama and problems. But that wasn’t realistic and he was only beginning to realize now — he didn’t care. As long as he had Pierce, everything was manageable. As long as they had each other they would brave the storms.