11Callum
It turned out that Dylan lived in a studio flat about a ten-minute bus ride from the city centre. It was so small, that the lounge area was contained beneath a loft bed. Luckily, it also had a really high ceiling. In fact, it was almost certainly taller than it was wide or long.
“Home sweet home,” Dylan said, using his hand to show Callum the flat in one go.
Almost everything was contained within a single open plan room—the minuscule kitchen area, a small, round table and two chairs, and the bed and living room against the far wall. There were two huge arched windows, that started at floor level and stopped just above the height of the bed. They had Venetian blinds over them, but as they were on the fourth floor of the building, they were only needed to block out light rather than to stop anyone looking in.
“Bathroom, airing cupboard, and walk-in-wardrobe,” Dylan said, pointing at three doors.
Callum raised his eyebrows. “You have a walk-in-wardrobe?” It seemed like an odd use of space.
Dylan laughed. “Well, I guess that depends on your definition. I can just about squeeze in there. Do you want a drink?”
Callum shook his head.
“You want to get straight to business then?” Dylan asked with a slightly suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows.
Callum felt his cheeks pink up, so he looked away to study the flooring intently. It looked like wood, but was probably some kind of thick, posh laminate.
“Dancing, obviously,” Dylan said.
“Obviously.”
Not that Callum wanted to learn how to dance, but he hadn’t wanted to turn Dylan’s offer down. Spending time with him was fun.
“Or we could just hang out?” Callum suggested.
Dylan folded his arms. “Don’t go trying to get out of it. I’m going to teach you how to dance, and that’s the end of it.”
Callum couldn’t help but laugh, even though his body was awash with confusing sensations. The mock-stern tone Dylan had adopted sent a shiver skipping down Callum’s spine.
“Why?” he asked.
Dylan pursed his lips and stared at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, presumably thinking about what to say. Was he making sure that he didn’t say anything suggestive? Theyhadagreed to be friends, though Callum doubted that Dylan’s attraction to him had gone away. He wasn’t even sure hewantedit to have gone. He kind of missed the flirting.
“You’ll have more fun at the Vibe if you’re on the dance floor,” Dylan said eventually.
He walked under the loft bed and pulled open a long drawer in the TV unit. He took a black headset and some strange looking controllers out of it, before closing it again. There was a computer tower nestled beside the TV unit, next to the window with a very small monitor balanced on top of it. Dylan turned them both on.
“Virtual reality,” he said. “I have an awesome game that’ll loosen you up so much, you won’t be able to stop your body moving to the beat.”
Callum doubted that, but he was intrigued by Dylan’s set-up. He’d never done VR before. “Are you going to show me how it’s done?”
“Nope.” Dylan grinned. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate you.”
Callum approached. It felt a little closed in under the loft bed, even though there were a few inches between the top of his head and the underside of the bed. Like Dylan, he was a little shorter than average.
“You’re not going to play under here,” Dylan told him. “You’ll be whacking your hands into the bed constantly.”
Gently, he nudged Callum back out into the tiny amount of open space the flat had, then he helped Callum put the headset on and settled the controllers into his hands, with the safety straps around his wrists.
“Wow,” Callum breathed.
He was in a grid environment, but even though it was simple, he felt like he was actually standing in there. It was disorientating as well as cool.
Dylan chuckled. “Let me start the game up for you.”
A few moments later, the controllers looked like light sabres in Callum’s hand.
