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Dear Journal—

Dear Diary?—

Dear Whoever Breaks Into My Room And Reads This While I’m Sleeping?—

We have a fucking problem.

Remember how I said I feel like I’m in a made-for-TV movie? Yeah, I might’ve been right about that, except I didn’t realize it’s the kind where I end up all alone. I think I might be the person Nicholas dates/fucks/screws/whatever before he ends up with the person he’s actually going to be with. I’m the name that gets mentioned in passing while Nicholas moves on with his life.

I’m just a bunch of memories. Just some guy in the fucking shadows.

You know how I know? Because I’m having to put on a fake fucking smile while things only get better for him. That’s not main character behavior. That’s not even BFF character behavior.

But maybe it’s better this way. It’s not like anything’s changed since last time. I’m still in vacation mode and Nicholas still wants to keep things practical. Why mess with the formula when everything’s been working out so far?

I don’t know. It just… hurts.

Anyway, gotta go. Nicholas is sorting through beers as we speak. Tonight is going to be a disgusting experience but the things we do for love, like really cute guys we meet in small towns.

“Oh, my God. This smells like an oil rig,” I whined as I sniffed the beer Nicholas had just handed to me in the kitchen. “Why does it smell like pure chemicals?”

We were on our third different kind of beer, splitting the bottles between us as we made our way through Nicholas’ taste test. We were going through them one right after the other, Nicholas saying something about not wanting to give me time to think too hard about their flavors, only relying on first impressions to decide whether I enjoyed the drink or not. Honestly, I hadn’t been impressed by any of them, so far, but at least I hadn’t been traumatized, either.

That was until we got to this bottle.

I had a bad feeling about it even from its label, a man pulling apart his shirt with his bare hands and what looked like an explosion going on right behind him. It reminded me of the kind of label I would’ve seen on an insanely spicy bottle of hot sauce, serving more as a warning than an invitation to put it on any actual food.

“Taste it! You’ve gotta taste it!” Nicholas egged me on, a warm smile on his face. “And if you don’t like it, just hand it over. I’ll finish the bottle.”

“I don’t know. You sure you can handle it? I don’t want you blowing past your limit.”

“My limit? You’ve had as much to drink as me, Parker.”

“Sure, but I’ve got a crazy high tolerance for the stuff,” I replied. “Most people can’t keep up with me and those who try? Usually end up passed out on the floor.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Less of a challenge and more like good advice?” I chuckled. “Seriously. It’s been that way since high school.”

“You were drinking like this when you were in Ohio?”

“You remembered that I moved here from Ohio in high school?” I was genuinely stunned by his recollection.

“You think I don’t remember things you tell me about yourself?” Nicholas chuckled now, too. “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“I guess I just didn’t think it was that interesting of a fact to remember.”

“Hmm.” Nicholas quietly nodded before he slightly tilted his head to the side.

“Something on your mind over there?” I asked, stalling my way out of drinking the beer in my grip.

“I was just wondering what it was like. Moving around like that when you were younger. I’ve pretty much been in the same place for my whole life, the idea of moving is as foreign to me as… literally any foreign country.”

“Good one.” I let out a light laugh as I thoughtfully pondered the question. “And moving around is fine. I mean, it sucks, don’t get me wrong. But you can find things to like about new places. And then, eventually, you find your people. Hopefully. After that, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

“So, it’s not super terrifying? Starting over?”

“That’s the thing. You’re never fully starting over. You’re still you. People tend to leave that part out but it really helps to have something to work with. Now, starting over with a whole new identity? I’ve heard that’s a whole different ballgame?—”

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