“No, you’re not, but that’s okay. How are you really doing?” Sammie asked gently.
Josiah sighed and wiped his forehead, surprised when his hand became sweaty. Cold sweat, great.
“I don’t know. It’s… he doesn’t know. I’d never tell him, you know that, right?”
Sammie chuckled quietly, the sound fond more than amused. “Oh, my sweet Bunnyman,” she sighed. “I’m going to only say this once; you deserve happiness. I would never tell him how you feel, just… don’t lose all hope yet. But at the same time, don’t stop living.”
He knew what she was trying to say, even though he didn’t really agree with her assessment. There was no way Denny would ever be more than his best friend. Even if Denny hadn’t been straight, Josiah would’ve never stepped over that line. Denny was the only person in his life he couldn’t fathom losing, and the mere idea freaked him out more than anything. He’d never do anything to jeopardize their friendship.
“Funny you should say that,” Josiah murmured. “Gunner left.”
Sammie huffed. “How the fuck do you keep finding these idiots, Jo?”
Josiah rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “I don’t know.” He got to his feet. “I believe their lies when they say I’m enough right up until I’m not?”
“Jo—”
“I got to go, they’re opening.”
“Okay. Call me if anything changes? I’ll be back home in a month and some change. I’ll come sing at your bar, even.”
Josiah chuckled. “It’s a deal. Sleep well, darling.”
“Will try!”
Josiah left his office and went to the staff bathroom. He splashed his face with some water and stared at his image in the mirror. He was getting close to forty, and outside of the Hoppy Hare he had very little to show for it.
Gunner, his latest boyfriend, had moved to California after six months of them living in each other’s pockets. For brief moments during those months, Josiah had thought that this might’ve been it. That Gunner might have been the man who would finally flip a switch in his brain and he’d never, ever think of Denny like that.
The funny thing was that Gunner was the first boyfriend in years who hadn’t actually told Josiah he’d beenemotionally unavailableor whatever other words some of the others had used to say the same simple thing: Josiah was in love with someone else. Gunner had been jealous of the Hare, of how much the bar took over Josiah’s life. He just hadn’t understood.
Josiah didn’t blame them, the failed boyfriends. He wished he could stop trying. But the romantic side of him thought that one day, someone would change him. The perfect man would come and not try to change anything else about him, but they’d flip that switch and there it would be, Josiah’s happily ever after.
He dried his hands and tried his best to get his professional face on. He was going to have to go on the stage to say a few words to kickstart the open mic night, and the way he was feeling wouldn’t do.
Josiah turned to leave the bathroom but somehow managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked younger than he was, especially with his profession of choice. He didn’t have a problem with alcohol—when he’d started to slide that direction a handful of years ago Josiah’s then boyfriend Ben, and Denny had made sure his slide had come to an abrupt stop.
He pushed his sleeves up. It had been Ben’s idea at first. Every time he wanted a drink, he’d gone and gotten a tattoo instead. Now, he sported full sleeves and had part of his chest tattooed as well. All of those images on his skin were love letters. He still drank a beer or two with Denny occasionally, but he didn’t touch hard liquor at all, just to stay on the safe side.
“Boss?” Drea called out in the corridor.
“Yeah, I’m coming!” Josiah straightened his button-down as he walked to the front. It was showtime.
“Good evening, everyone! It’s time for the weekly open mic night here at the Hoppy Hare!” Josiah smiled at the crowd made up of regulars and even a few new faces. “If you want to perform, you can go to the bar and sign up with Drea. Wave to the people, Drea!” he called out, and she waved theatrically from where she was sitting on top of the bar with her notepad at the ready. “As always, we have until eleven, standard sets are fifteen minutes and if you need more, you let us know!”
A nervous-looking young woman with a guitar approached the stage, and Josiah smiled at her. He jumped down and tried not to hover as she stepped awkwardly over the old ship rope that lined the edge. Once she was up there, he spoke into the microphone.
“This is Miss Sylvie, and as a reminder to everyone, Sylvie has anxiety and she might need to turn around to face the wall as she performs, so be kind.” He handed over the mic and watched as she put it on the stand with shaking hands. He winked at her before walking to the bar.
“H-hi everyone. Like Josiah said, I’m Sylvie. I’d l-like to sing you a couple of covers, and one original song. I might have to bail at some point, but that hasn’t really happened in a few weeks since I got my new anxiety medication, so… wish me luck, I guess?” She gave the audience a brief smile, blushed when some of the people clapped and called out supportive things. With a deep breath, she adjusted her guitar and started to strum.
The crowd flowed in and out like it always did. Some performers left right after their set, whether they’d sang, done standup comedy, or performed button poetry. There was a new guy, a twenty-something geeky-looking kid who read his childhood diary and made people laugh with his crush on Tori Spelling. A young foreign couple juggled on the small stage, awkwardly but with incredible precision. They bowed at the end to huge applause, gathered their backpacks and moved on. Part of Josiah envied them.
Like almost every Wednesday, the door opened at ten-thirty and Gray slipped in. Some of the regulars knew to expect him, because Gray had been coming here for a long time.
His name was on the list each week, he’d once tipped Drea a hundred bucks for a standing reservation for the last half an hour, to her amusement.
Josiah took a sip from his mojito and watched as Gray made his way onto the stage. He looked like a hipster lumberjack, all plaid and a beanie, trimmed beard and a tall frame that seemed too large for the stage, even though he wasn’t overweight.
