As I wait for my Uber on the South Perth street below Hammer’s apartment building, I have the fleeting fear this will go the same way it did years ago. That Hammer said all the right things while I was in front of him, but now I’ve left, I’ll never hear from him for another seven years.Fuckbuddies who like each otheris a nice idea, but what if he’s wrong about it leading to a second time?
I fight the urge to message him for needy reassurance, but while I’m still struggling with that, my phone vibrates.
Hammer messaged me first.
Oi, Baker only got 12 disposals last night. I told ya. I’m always right.
29
WE USED TO BE FRIENDS
CHARLIE
For a few days and nights, our house is cloaked in grief.
Ahmed’s a homebound and mostly bedridden wreck. His Fremantle-based sister, Fatima, and her husband, Joel, move in temporarily to support him, crashing on a mattress in the lounge room. Tenille and Kayla also come around regularly. The house has never been more overcrowded and simultaneously felt so empty.
Me and Zeke offer to find somewhere else to stay, but Ahmed won’t have a bar of us leaving. So we spend nights in the courtyard, comfort-eating Shining Dragon and Fatima’s delicious homecooked meals and drinking and sharing stories about Curtis.
After a few nights, Ahmed has a big meltdown, shrieking before sobbing in Fatima’s arms. I don’t even know what sparked it, but it feels wrong to be in the house, so the rest of us clear out and leave him with his family.
I suggest unlocking the Tool Shed for cheeky drinks, but the idea of us sitting in a shuttered bar without Curtis feels too morose. We head to Connections instead.
Tenille secures us a table on the rooftop terrace, and Kayla orders drinks and shots for everyone who’s joined us. We made it an impromptu memorial drinks to Curtis. Me, Zeke and Rex, Mason and Brayden, Noah and Vince from the bar, Reyna, Kayla and Tenille.
Ten shots of whiskey are raised to the starry sky above us, to Curtis, and downed.
When we’ve been there for about half an hour, Vince glances across the terrace and scowls, ‘Ew! No! No fucking way!’
We all follow his line of sight.
At the entrance to the terrace, near the bar, is a similar-sized group of people, the most recognisable among them being Xander Sullivan.
Xander narrowly survived his self-cancellation. He deleted his post three hours after he made it, but the damage was already widespread, and the attacking comments kept coming from people who were reading the news headlines and didn’t know he’d already deleted it. He posted a video of himself sobbing, explaining the misunderstanding with the edited post, claiming he’d received death threats and making himself the victim of the entire situation yet again – which, frankly, was probably his only way out of it.
‘I’m gonna say something to him,’ Rex fumes, standing up. ‘Bet he’d shit his dacks if I told him I’d videoed our hookup. That’d ruin his Disney prince image, wouldn’t it?’
‘Don’t,’ Kayla cautions. ‘That’s blackmail, and revenge porn. You’ll make this worse. And I think he’s already copped enough of what he deserved.’
Xander’s noticed us, and crosses the terrace towards us.
Automatically, I’m on my feet to head him off, Tenille striding beside me, her leather boots clopping on the floor.
Xander is wearing a black T-shirt withNO HATEemblazoned on it in rainbow letters, hands clasped demurely in front of him.
‘Look, I want to offer my condol—’ Xander begins.
‘Don’t you fucking dare,’ I snap.
‘Have some goddamn respect,’ Tenille barks, flexing her tattoo-sleeved arm. ‘You put Curtis through hell.’
Xander makes an offended face, as if we’re making a mountain out of a molehill. ‘Just trying to be kind,’ he says, making the namaste hands at us.
‘Being kind would’ve been not harassing Curtis,’ I parry. ‘Being kind would’ve been not getting the bigots piling on him, too. Being kind would’ve been not pressuring me to side with you against Curtis. Fuck you, Xander. I stand by the Tool Shed all the way.’
‘Look, I was just trying to get through to you, but I guess you’re committed to being a Pick Me Gay,’ Xander says.
‘A what?’ I splutter. I’ve never heard the term.
