Page 14 of Steam

* * *

The song was justas brilliant as Barrett remembered, and played just as beautifully as he’d come to expect from the neighbor upstairs. He clapped as loud as he could, and when he heard the pianist move towards a vent, he chanced shouting a little bit of praise.

He hadn’t expected an answer, but then he got one.

“Any more requests?”

The voice that shouted down the vent was muffled, but it was unmistakably young—and though Barrett knew he was being ridiculous, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that the mellow voice sounded handsome.

“Ballad number one in D flat?” he shouted without hesitation.

There was a pause.

“What?”

Shit. He couldn’t hear Barrett.

“Ballad one in D flat?” he tried again.

“… What?” his neighbor yelled. “Wait, no, hey—just come up!”

Barrett’s heart pounded. Come up? Oh God, he’d been invited up!

Barrett prepared for the fact that his illusion was probably about to be shattered. There was very little chance that the man upstairs would be what Barrett had imagined—and even if he was devastatingly handsome on top of talented, there was an even smaller chance that he’d be interested in Barrett.

He bid a fond farewell to the perfect pianist he’d had in his head for the first few weeks of condo life before making his way to the door.

* * *

It had just beenimpulse to invite his neighbor upstairs, but Josh realized as he waited for the stranger to arrive that he hadn’t interacted with anyone other than the asshole with the mail problem in several days. He’d been too preoccupied with the Wagner painting—and that was part of the danger of being single and working alone.

He looked around the messy condo, suddenly self-conscious. Would his neighbor even want to sit and have coffee with someone whose half-finished canvases were stacked against every surface, including his baby grand? He made a quick sweep, trying to pick up as many cups and half-finished tumblers of whiskey as he could.

There was a knock. Josh didn’t bother checking through the peep hole, throwing the door open with a smile.

The stranger looked at him, shocked and frowning.

Josh was confused for a moment. Did he know the man from somewhere? Surely he would’ve remembered someone who was so exactly his type: tall, clean-cut, goodlooking, his faded t-shirt hanging on his broad chest just so…

“Not you…”the man said. The voice kicked loose something in Josh’s head. That disapproving tone…

“Holy shit,” Josh said, sagging against the door. “I didn’t recognize you without the briefcase. You’re the one with the request, Princess?”

The man held up his hands and backed up, as if to leave.

“Wait, wait, no, come on, Barrett, right?”

The stranger eyed him cautiously and nodded.

“Listen, we got off on the wrong foot,” Josh said. “If you truly don’t mind listening to me bang around on that old thing, we’ve got more in common than I thought. Why don’t you come inside and have a cup of coffee?”

Barrett looked dubious but stepped forward.

* * *

Barrett feltlike an enormously stuck up asshole.

He’d assumed that Josh’s artist wannabe look was just that: a look. But faced with the inside of his condo, everything clicked into place. Josh had ripped up, stained clothes because he actually painted. And whatever he’d thought about Josh’s personality he was now doubting.

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