Vagabonds [Ravioli's Version] - RavioliHailstorm (2024)

Sometimes Sapnap’s neighbors ask if he lives alone because they never see anyone else entering or exiting his apartment unit. Whenever someone asks, Sapnap usually tells them that his roommate George Navy is “a little shy”. That explanation is satisfactory enough for Sapnap’s neighbors… but ironically, not for him.

Unlike the other student residents of the university’s apartment complex, Sapnap was required to sign an extra waiver when he moved in two months ago. The document’s purpose was to inform him that his roommate George Navy suffered from some sort of medical condition, but this did not bother Sapnap. Convinced that he had better things to do with his time than to read pages of legal jargon, he flipped swiftly through the document before signing his name at the bottom of the last page. Both he and George were adults in their last year of university, so Sapnap assumed that both of them were mature enough to discuss the medical condition further if necessary.

However, Sapnap and George did not discuss anything. On the first day, the roommates met in the main living area of their two-bedroom apartment to exchange phone numbers. After brief introductions of their names and majors, Sapnap began unpacking and George returned to his bedroom.

Since that first day two months ago, the roommates have never spoken to each other for more than five minutes. Usually George secludes himself in his bedroom whenever Sapnap is present. No hangouts, no lengthy conversations, and definitely no physical contact.

This afternoon, Sapnap’s smartphone buzzes with a notification. Glancing away from the laptop on his desk, he lifts the device to see a message from his roommate.

George: Groceries please
George: 3 bags
George: Thank you

Saving the work on his laptop, Sapnap stands and stretches. Simultaneously his smartphone buzzes a second time, notifying him that his bank account just received a deposit of $5.

Sapnap and George’s entire friendship as roommates depends upon favors and paid requests like this. Sapnap fetches his roommate’s mail, groceries, and other deliveries from the apartment complex’s postage room, and George pays him in return.

Exiting his bedroom, Sapnap puts on his athletic shoes and grabs his key ring before approaching the apartment’s front door. He does not bother to check George’s bedroom door because it is always closed.

Outside, Sapnap performs his usual journey along the hallway, down the stairs, and across the central courtyard to the postage room.

“Hello again, Sapnap!” The receptionist greets him warmly when he steps through the door.

“Hi, Dream,” Sapnap responds. “I’m here for groceries?”

“Oh, yeah, the delivery person put them there.” Without standing from his swiveling office chair behind the reception desk, Dream points across the room. Just like Sapnap’s roommate described, three bulging plastic bags wait on a table.

“Great, thanks.” Gathering the bags into his arms, Sapnap approaches the door to leave the postage room.

“Have a good day!” The receptionist waves. “I love your denim jacket!”

“You, too, and thanks!” Appreciating the compliment, Sapnap exits the postage room and carries George’s groceries back to their apartment.

Upon entering the unit’s front door, he removes everything from the bags and onto the kitchen countertop. By now, none of the groceries surprise him; they are the exact same items that George buys every week. Rolled oats, decaffeinated tea, eggs, citrus fruits, and lots of vegetables. No soy, no nuts, no dairy, no shellfish, and no meat. For a while, Sapnap suspected that his roommate suffered from allergies, but that explanation does not account for the vitamins. As he reaches the bottoms of the plastic bags, he removes several jars of vitamins that supplement the nutrients and amino acids which are missing from George’s diet.

Once all of the groceries are on the kitchen countertop, Sapnap washes his hands, returns to his bedroom, and closes the door behind himself.

Within seconds of the resident’s disappearance from the apartment’s main living area, George emerges from his bedroom.

Instead of submerging himself in his work again, Sapnap lingers beside his door and listens. He hears the opening and closing of the refrigerator, freezer, and cabinet doors as George organizes all of his groceries. Seconds later, he hears shuffling footsteps and clattering pans which indicate that George is cooking.

Sapnap has many questions for his roommate. How was George’s day? Why does he eat the same foods all the time? Why does he only take online courses? Why is Sapnap not allowed to speak to him after 10pm at night? However, if Sapnap emerged from his bedroom to ask these questions, George would pause his cooking - even if he is not done yet - and retreat back into hiding.

Deserting his spot beside the bedroom door, Sapnap sits down at his desk and opens his laptop again. He fails to suppress his jealousy for the neighbors in other units, for they are probably more social and less mysterious than his roommate.

The next day, Sapnap’s last class ends early, allowing him to leave 10 minutes ahead of schedule. At 1:40pm, he departs from the lecture hall and scrolls through notifications on his smartphone. As he steps into the sunlight and returns to the rack where his bicycle waits, he discovers new messages.

George: Hi Sapnap
George: When you come back, can you please pick up my medications?
George: Thank you

Below these messages, Sapnap sees the next notification, which shows that his roommate has deposited another $5 into his bank account. He sends a brief response: “sure”.

During Sapnap’s bicycle ride back to the apartment complex, he visits the postage room again.

“Sap!” The receptionist greets the returning visitor with bright teal eyes and a beaming smile. “It’s good to see you again! I love how you did your hair today.”

“Thanks, Dream, and it’s good to see you, too,” Sapnap returns the greeting.

“The delivery is over there.” Dream points at the table.

“Cool.” Acknowledging him with a polite nod, Sapnap lifts a plastic bag off the table. When he checks the contents, he sees eleven bottles which contain George’s medications.

“Is everything in there?” Dream asks from behind his desk. Sapnap suspects that he is often bored at work, leading him to express interest in practically any distraction.

“Yeah, they’re my roommate’s prescriptions,” Sapnap shrugs. Lifting the unnervingly heavy bag with one hand, he adds, “He has a lot of them.”

“Oh.” Dream nods. He still appears curious, but he does not say anything else.

After an awkwardly long moment of silence, Sapnap excuses himself. “Well, I guess I better go -”

“Right, yes!” Instantly Dream takes his cue to return to the work on his desk computer. Looking between the screen and his visitor, he says goodbye. “Have a good day, Sapnap!”

“You too!” Smiling to himself at the other man’s cheerful attitude, Sapnap leaves the postage room. While he crosses the courtyard, climbs the stairs, and walks along the hallway back to his unit, he considers his current social life. I’m about to graduate, get my degree, and start a whole new chapter of my life, yet I’m so lonely that my closest friend is just a guy who works in the postage room!

Finishing the journey back to the apartment, Sapnap unlocks the front door and pushes it open. Absently he expects to see an empty kitchen… but that is not what he discovers.

George is out of his bedroom. He wears his everyday outfit: long jeans, a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, elbow-length rubber gloves, and a specialized gas mask that covers his entire face. He stands in the kitchen beside his electric tea kettle as it prepares his daily cup of tea: a remedy which alleviates the nausea that he frequently feels.

Holding his breath, Sapnap closes the front door softly behind himself to avoid alarming his roommate. Fortunately George’s attention is intensely focused on the tea kettle while he waits impatiently for the water to boil. Drumming the fingers of his rubber gloves upon the kitchen countertop, he does not even notice Sapnap’s arrival.

Then Sapnap adjusts his grip on the plastic bag in his hand. A faint crinkle interrupts the gentle hiss of steaming water.

Noticing the tiny sound, George turns around sharply. His deep umber eyes widen behind his gas mask’s clear barrier.

“Sapnap!” Surprised, he sputters, “I didn’t think you would come home so early.”

“Hi, George,” Sapnap greets, equally startled. To avoid spooking his roommate further, he approaches slowly. In one outstretched hand, he offers the plastic bag of medications. “Here, I brought your things.”

Emerging from his bewilderment, George steps backward away from his roommate. Putting space between the pair, he points at the kitchen countertop with a gloved finger. “Perfect, thank you. Just put them there, please. I’ll grab the bag later.” Then, without waiting for a response, he turns around and retreats to his bedroom.

“Wait, you don’t need to leave!” Unwilling to lose this chance so easily, Sapnap steps forward to follow George, but the other man does not acknowledge his protest… or maybe he does not care.

Huffing with frustration, Sapnap accepts defeat and places the plastic bag of medications on the countertop like George requested. Even when the electric tea kettle beeps, signaling that its hot water is ready, George does not come back out to fill the empty ceramic mug that he left behind. Is there something wrong with me? Sapnap wonders. Why does he never want to communicate?

Then the bedroom door opens again. This time, Sapnap is the man to step backward as George emerges. He still wears all of his protective gear, but now he carries a disinfecting wipe. Barely even glancing at Sapnap, he strides into the kitchen.

“Did you touch anything?” George asks cautiously.

“No.” Sapnap shakes his head.

“Good.” George proceeds to wipe down objects in the kitchen: cabinet handles, sink handles, countertop surfaces, and even the refrigerator door. This is one of his strictest rules: Sapnap must not touch anything that George has touched until it has been washed or disinfected.

Once George is satisfied, he tosses the used disinfectant wipe into the waste bin and returns to the electric tea kettle. He pours steaming water into the ceramic mug, sending aromas of lemon and ginger through the apartment air. Next he places the kettle onto its holder, grabs the ceramic mug, and carries the plastic bag of medications to his bedroom. “Alright, you should be safe now!”

“Okay, thanks,” Sapnap responds flatly.

This is not the first time when George has implied that he is somehow dangerous. The roommates sleep in separate bedrooms, but they share a restroom. When the pair moved in together, George asked what time Sapnap prefers to shower; when Sapnap answered that he usually showers at night, the other man volunteered to shower during the daytime. George even wipes down the toilet, sink, and the restroom’s door handle after each use, but when Sapnap asked if he should do the same, George reassured him that there was no need. Even when Sapnap tries to convince George that he is not afraid of germs, the roommate’s behaviors do not change.

“Hey, George?” Deciding that he wants answers - some sort of explanation - Sapnap remains outside his roommate’s bedroom door. He waits until he hears socked footsteps thumping against the floor before he asks, “Are you busy?”

“Not really.” Gently opening the door, George slips gloved fingers between the wood and the door frame, then he peeks out to view Sapnap with a single eye through the gap. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious about something.” Sapnap waits to see if his roommate will open the door any further, but George only listens with a questioning expression. “Forgive me if this sounds a little rude, but what do you do?”

“What do I do?” George echoes, frowning with confusion.

“I mean, like, what are you always doing in your room? Why do you never leave or talk to people outside?”

“Ah.” George tilts his head with understanding. Subconsciously adjusting the straps of his specialized gas mask, he replies, “I do lots of things. I message friends through online group chats, I attend my online courses, I do homework, I watch videos and movies online, I play online chess, and…” Slowing down, he trails off. After a brief consideration, he confesses sheepishly, “And I suppose that’s it. Maybe I don’t actually do much after all, or at least, everything that I do is online.”

“Oh.” Nodding, Sapnap feels a hint of sympathy for his roommate. “Don’t you feel lonely, though?”

“Sometimes,” George admits nonchalantly. “But I don’t need to see people in person, except for maybe my doctors, so I’m used to living online. That’s just the way I operate.”

“I understand.” Accepting his roommate’s explanation, Sapnap shrugs. Deciding that now is probably the best opportunity that he will find, he asks, “You said that you play online chess, right?”

“Yeah. I play solo matches, dual matches, and chess tournaments.”

“When was your last online chess tournament?”

“Three weeks ago.” Sensing where this conversation is leading, George asks suspiciously, “Are you implying that I’ve spent too long without social interaction?”

“I’m implying that I want to make sure you don’t miss the best years of your life,” Sapnap corrects firmly. “The sports club is going to host a party tonight at the Spruce Grove apartment complex, about a 15-minute walk from here. I’m a club member. We’re planning to hang out and chill, so it won’t be overwhelming or anything.”

“The party sounds like fun,” George acknowledges. “I hope that you have a good time!”

“Actually, I wanted you to come with me.” Sapnap promises hopefully, “I can pay for your food, too. You must be tired of eating the same things all the time.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“We’ve never hung out before,” Sapnap reasons. Suspecting that his roommate will decline the invitation anyway, he finishes, “But if you’re busy or something, then you don’t have to come.”

Seeing the chance to escape that Sapnap provided, George apologizes, “Sorry, Sapnap. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I can come.”

“Oh, okay.” Sapnap’s shoulders sink with disappointment.

“That was very nice of you, though.” George’s shy compliment catches him off-guard. The peculiar man may be introverted, but he is not aloof. “I haven’t been to a party in a long time.”

“Of course, no problem.” Sudden intrigue surfaces in Sapnap’s mind: an awareness. What if George actually does want to accompany him?

With a soft smile in his eyes, George closes his bedroom door again, then he sighs.

If you want to come along, then why not say so? Puzzled, Sapnap turns around and leaves the bedroom behind. He attempts to shove his curiosity out of his mind, but the mystery lingers.

It would be easy for Sapnap to assume that his roommate does not pay attention to him, but in the evening, the other man proves him wrong. Despite George’s claim that he had an important obligation online, he emerges from his bedroom only two minutes before Sapnap leaves to attend the party.

“Are you going out now?” Holding the door slightly open, George peeks out of his bedroom. The mouthpiece of his gas mask pokes out.

“Yeah. The party is going to be outside, in the Spruce Grove courtyard, but luckily the weather is supposed to be good.” Sapnap hums as he puts on his athletic shoes, then he looks up curiously. “Didn’t you say that your online chess tournament starts now?”

“It does,” George admits. “But I’m always on time. The other players won’t mind waiting for me once.” Rubbing one arm awkwardly, he scans his roommate’s appearance.

Sapnap adjusts the sleeves of his old American football jacket and the hem of his gray jeans. His hair is neatly combed, he wears rings on his thick fingers, and a silver chain dangles from his neck. He hopes that his handsome appearance will make him a prime target of romantic interest at the party. I probably look like I could get someone pregnant. Sapnap smirks with amusem*nt when George’s eyebrows lift.

Meeting Sapnap’s confident gaze again, the smaller man asks, “Are you going to meet with someone special?”

“I hope so,” Sapnap confirms. “The sports club is huge and everyone has a lot of friends, so if there are any cute girls at the party, then I want to be attractive.”

“Hm.” George acknowledges curtly. As Sapnap moves toward the front door, he blurts, “Wait.”

“Yeah?” Propping open the front door with one broad shoulder, Sapnap glances back.

Conflicted, George hesitates and stares down at the hardwood floor before he lifts his eyes again. Sapnap sees loneliness and, for the first time, longing. Hastily he requests, “When you attend the party, can you take pictures for me? Like, pictures of the location and the other attendees and all of that, please? I might know some of the people there.”

“I can send you pictures,” Sapnap agrees. Sympathetically he offers, “You can still come with me. I don’t mind waiting for another few minutes if you want to get ready, and if you’re scared of people, then we can just stick together in the crowd or something.”

“I’m not scared. It’s just…” George sighs again, then he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. Donning a new expression of determination, he changes the subject. “Whatever. Anyway, like I said, just send me pictures, okay?”

“I will,” Sapnap promises.

“And if you arrive back at the apartment after 10pm, then you know what to do.”

“I won’t bother you,” Sapnap recites.

“Great. Thank you.” Slipping back into his bedroom, George ends the conversation to resume his online chess tournament. The walls muffle his voice as he calls, “Have a good time!”

“I’ll try!” Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Sapnap closes the front door behind himself. He strides through the apartment complex’s hallway and descends down the stairs. As he passes the postage room, he glances into its clear glass windows to see Dream sitting at his desk. The receptionist’s expression is neutral - terribly bored - until he sees Sapnap out the window. Dream’s expression brightens immediately and he waves. The other man waves back with a smile, then he keeps walking.

Inhaling fresh air, Sapnap crosses his apartment complex’s courtyard and continues his journey to Spruce Grove. He expects that the party will only yield new friends, not a romantic partner, but he is still determined to hope for the best.

The sports club’s party is as crowded as Sapnap expected. Large groups of university students - many wearing sports clothing and merchandise - congregate at the Spruce Grove apartment complex. Along the outskirts of the party, tents host party games and sell hot food. Across the lush courtyard, dozens of students sit at four different picnic tables beneath a slowly darkening sky.

Before Sapnap enters the party’s official zone, he stops walking and lifts his smartphone to take a picture of the large venue. He sends the picture to George, who responds with a thumbs-up emoji. Next Sapnap meanders around the courtyard, assessing the food, the party games, and the crowds of people. He sends pictures of the evening sky, the dart board, and the DJ booth to George, who receives them and gratefully sends heart-eyes emojis in return.

When Sapnap buys three chicken tamales from a tent for dinner, he balances the paper plate on one hand while he lifts his smartphone for another picture. His concentration breaks when someone calls to him from nearby.

“Hey, dude!”

Flinching, Sapnap lowers his smartphone and looks up, searching the courtyard for the voice’s source until several people wave from where they sit at a nearby picnic table. Self-consciously he turns off his smartphone and slips into his pocket. I’ll take more pictures later, he decides before approaching the picnic table with his plate of food.

“Are you, like, a photographer?” Fortunately none of the students appear hostile. Instead their expressions are curious, even awestruck.

“Oh no, I’m just taking pictures for my roommate,” Sapnap explains. “He couldn’t attend.”

“Aw, that’s a shame.” One woman tilts her head sympathetically. Her sequin jacket sparkles beneath the glowing lamps that tower above the courtyard. “I’m sure your roommate appreciates that you’re sharing the experience, though.”

“Yeah, I think so.” Seeing an opportunity to make friends, Sapnap asks, “Can I sit with you guys?”

“Of course! Take a seat.” Another person at the picnic table shifts sideways, allowing the newcomer to seat himself and place his paper plate on the table’s surface.

“Are you guys from the sports club?” Sapnap asks. “I don’t think I’ve met any of you before.”

“We’re not from the sports club, no.” Someone shakes their head. “But we’ve definitely dated people who are from the sports club. Anyway, what’s your name?”

“Uh… Sapnap?”

None of the other university students react to their companion’s unusual statement. Instead they greet the newcomer with warm smiles.

“Nice to meet you, Sapnap!”

“I like that name.”

“You can hang out with us if you want.”

“Sure, thanks.” Slightly flustered to meet so many new, apparently friendly people, Sapnap drops his gaze to the picnic table, which is bare except for sun-bleached wooden planks and the paper plate of Sapnap’s chicken tamales. “Have you guys eaten? I don’t want to make anyone feel hungry by eating in front of you.” He begins to stand again before one of the students interrupts him.

“Don’t worry about that! One of the other Hoppers is bringing food. Xe said that xe is on xyr way right now!”

“One of the… Hoppers?” Sapnap questions the unfamiliar term, but no one explains it to him before a new stranger hurries into the courtyard from a side entrance that leads to the Spruce Grove parking lot. Carrying bulging paper bags in both hands, xe rushes toward the table with flushed cheeks and panting breaths.

“Alright, I got the whole variety,” xe announces proudly. Placing the paper bags upon the picnic table’s surface, xe describes, “Korean barbecue chicken, kimchi, chicken katsu, fried rice -” As xe recites each dish, xe removes deli containers and takeout containers from the bags so the other people can reach to grab them. Once xe empties the paper bags, xe folds them close to xyr chest and glances up. Witnessing Sapnap for the first time, xe asks with interest, “Who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Sapnap,” another person introduces. “I think he’s from the sports club?”

They look at Sapnap for confirmation until the newcomer nods. "Hello."

Practically salivating, the friend group and Sapnap begin eating their food. Their conversations fall silent for several minutes until one person covers their mouth to ask a muffled question.

“Sapnap, are you the one here who’s wearing cologne?” Before waiting for an answer, they send a teasing glance toward the woman who wears the sequin jacket. “Unless Anathi accidentally strayed into the men’s perfume section again.”

“It definitely isn’t me this time,” Anathi answers dryly before she returns her gaze to Sapnap and raises her eyebrows purposefully.

“Yeah, I’m wearing cologne,” Sapnap admits. Fanning the orange collar of the shirt under his American football jacket, he scoffs light-heartedly. “Do you have a problem with me stealing your girlfriends?”

“That sounds like something a single guy would say.” Narrowing her eyes, Anathi sees through the newcomer’s confident-sounding bluff. She confronts him immediately. “I guess you’ve been having some troubles with romance, huh?”

Caught off-guard by the group’s perceptiveness, Sapnap avoids the question. “That’s not why I came to this party.” Feigning disinterest in the prospect of finding a potential romantic partner, he adds, “I’m here just to have fun, not to find a soulmate.”

“Oh, please don’t lie. There’s no need for shame!” Another person at the table dismisses Sapnap’s excuse with a wave. “Trust us, Sapnap. We don’t judge you. Honestly, we can’t.” Referring to the rest of the sports party’s blissfully ignorant attendees with a sweeping gesture, they continue, “I’m sure that half of the people here are lonely. If all of us were still Hoppers, then we could even help you find a match!”

Recognizing the same unfamiliar term from fifteen minutes ago, Sapnap asks, “What’s a Hopper?”

Instead of answering the question, Anathi frowns. “How many years have you been at this university?”

“It’s my fourth year: hopefully my last before I get my Bachelor’s Degree.”

“You’re in your fourth year and you’ve never heard of the Hoppers before?” All around Sapnap, dozens of eyes widen with disbelief.

“I guess I haven’t.” Slightly uncomfortable to admit that he does not know who these people are, Sapnap squeezes a crumpled paper napkin in both hands.

The group exchanges stunned glances, but no one mocks Sapnap for not recognizing them. Bundling her jacket closer to herself as the dusk turns into night above their heads, Anathi offers, “If no one else wants to explain, then I’ll tell you about us.”

“Alright, I’ll listen.” Gradually relaxing, Sapnap releases his tight grip on the paper napkin.

Everyone else at the table knows this information already, but they fall quiet to listen, too.

“Let me start by saying that the Hoppers weren’t a complicated group. We were more like a collection of buddies rather than an organization or even a club. I was a member for a few months until we disbanded.”

“What did the Hoppers do?” Sapnap asks.

“We dated people.” Anathi ignores Sapnap’s disbelieving stare as she continues, “If other people at the university were lonely or whatever, they contacted the Hoppers for a quick date: just a partner for the day.”

Struggling to process the information, Sapnap feels ashamed of how jealous he feels and he wishes that he knew about the group while it existed. Even if he only had a partner for one day like the Hoppers described, finding a temporary match would still fulfill his desire for a connection. Containing these thoughts without releasing them, Sapnap asks his next question, “How did the Hoppers become a group if you guys weren’t even a club?”

“We owe all of it to our founder.”

“Your founder?”

“‘The Founder’ was his official title, but no one called him that, of course.” Wistful nostalgia enters Anathi’s voice as she describes, “When I first joined the Hoppers, I had just gone through a nasty breakup. I thought for sure that if I joined, everyone would just pawn me off - like a trophy or something - but our founder was the sweetest guy. He was so reassuring, always promising that we could turn down anyone, for any reason, at any time.”

“So the Hoppers dated other people just for fun?” Sapnap cannot believe that he never heard of these people! Warily he asks, “The founder didn’t, like, force you to join, did he?”

“Not at all!” Anathi and the other people shake their heads in unison. “I asked them if I could stay, and they supported me right away. I had to get tested for STDs first, of course, and it wasn’t fun, but I did it for safety. Then I met the other Hoppers -” She gestures to the rest of the group. “- who, ironically, are some of the only people who don’t judge me for being a woman who likes sex.”

“Then why did the Hoppers disband, if everyone was so happy with each other?”

Anathi’s expression darkens with sadness. “Well, when our founder left, the rest of the Hoppers only remained in the group for a while. Now we live our separate lives, except for when we meet up at club parties like this. Our group just wasn’t the same without George.”

“George who?” Bewildered, Sapnap stammers, “That’s my roommate’s name, too.”

When one of the Hoppers opens their mouth to recite the founder’s last name, Sapnap expects to hear something unfamiliar. Surely “The Founder” cannot be the same person as -

“George Navy. He’s in his fourth year, too.”

“Wait.” Sapnap freezes. He recognizes that last name. “What?”

Unaware of why their founder’s name is shocking to the table’s guest, one of the Hoppers confirms, “We haven’t seen him in over a year, but we still keep in contact with him!”

“No, that’s impossible.” Sapnap shakes his head, refusing to accept this information. “Listen, I don’t doubt that the Hoppers existed, but unless there are multiple George Navys, there is literally no way that we’re thinking about the same person. My roommate is George Navy, and he only takes online courses. He doesn’t even leave our apartment! I’m practically his delivery guy!”

“Well, like we said, George isn’t a member of the Hoppers anymore,” Anathi explains calmly. Her dark brown eyes brighten as she changes the subject. “But anyway, you said that he’s your roommate? How is he? Is he still… sick?” With an uncharacteristic hastiness, the woman explains, “That was why George left: he said that he was sick with something.”

“Uh, I think that George is okay?” Sapnap guesses with a frustrating amount of uncertainty. “We don’t interact much.”

“Does he seem lonely?” One Hopper’s eyes shine with concern for their friend.

“Sometimes, I guess.” After a brief consideration, Sapnap adds, “He seemed disappointed that he couldn’t attend the party tonight.”

“Aw, but aren’t you taking pictures for him?” Anathi suggests, “Here, how about you take a picture of us at the table and send it to George?”

“I can do that.” Standing from his seat, Sapnap smiles self-consciously as he glances at the rest of the group for permission. “Does anyone care if I -?”

“No, go ahead!” The other Hoppers lean in, all smiling and flashing thumbs-up at his smartphone’s camera as he takes a group selfie. When Sapnap sends the picture to George, his roommate reacts immediately.

George: !!!!!
George: MY FRIENDS
George: Say hi for me please!!!!!

Unable to suppress a glimmer of amusem*nt, Sapnap responds, “We’re hanging out :)”. He decides that he will discuss all of this with George later since the other man has practically confirmed the truth about his past with only a few texts.

“I’m glad that George has someone like you with him,” the woman with the sequin jacket remarks solemnly. “You seem cool.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. No problem.” The unexpected compliment flatters Sapnap, who sits down at the picnic table again and drums his fingers upon its rough surface. Am I really that great?

Despite Sapnap’s gratitude for the Hoppers’ acceptance and support, he cannot resist wondering about what caused George’s departure. None of the Hoppers seem to dislike him, so why did he leave?

By now, the sky is fully dark. Shadows stretch long across the courtyard’s grassy lawn and mossy sidewalks. After another twenty minutes of conversation, Sapnap thanks the Hoppers for allowing him to sit and eat with them, then he stands from the picnic table. He stretches his arms and legs, tosses his dirty plate in a waste bin, and leaves the group of friends behind.

“Take care of yourself, Sapnap!” Anathi and the others wave goodbye.

“You guys stay safe, too!” He responds politely.

As Sapnap crosses the courtyard toward an ice cream tent, he is unaware that someone else has been watching him.

Faintly Sapnap hears whispers coming from a group of university students who stand near the tents. As he passes, the group falls silent, then they giggle once he departs from hearing range. One woman’s friend nudges her encouragingly.

“Now is your chance, Kylie! He won’t know that you think he’s hot unless you tell him!”

Although Kylie wants to protest, her friend is right; she noticed the attractive man earlier tonight and could barely stop glancing in his direction while he sat at the picnic table. She heard his courteous demeanor when he spoke to the other people around him. She saw his broad shoulders, his neatly combed hair, his bulky arms, the sweat on his neck, and the tufts of delicious chest hair peeking out from under his shirt collar. He looks like he could get someone pregnant.

From where he stands in a line for ice cream, Sapnap sees movement from his peripheral vision. As he reaches the front of the line, a fellow student approaches with a hopeful, yet nervous expression. Sapnap’s eyebrows raise with curiosity as Kylie slows down to stand near him.

“Hi, would you mind if I paid for your ice cream?”

“Not at all,” he accepts the offer gladly.

After buying desserts, the pair moves to sit on a wooden bench beneath an overhang on the party’s outskirts. Sapnap and Kylie introduce themselves and soon discover that they are both attracted to each other. In between licks of his ice cream cone, Sapnap asks if his zodiac sign makes them compatible, and he smirks when Kylie blushes in response. Although Kylie says that she has assignments due tonight, she asks to meet Sapnap again next weekend. Exhilarated, Sapnap agrees; this is practically his dream scenario, an experience that he has hoped for since he enrolled at the university!

At the end of the party, Sapnap leaves with Kylie’s phone number, a plan for their first date, and a new air of triumph.

When Sapnap arrives back at his apartment unit around 11pm, he is so distracted by his upcoming date - and so determined to question his roommate - that he breaks his promise to George. Crossing the empty kitchen and silent living area, he turns on the lights and strides toward his roommate’s bedroom.

“George?” He knocks on the other man’s door. “You have some explaining to do! You need to tell me about what happened to you!”

No response.

“Oh, come on, there’s no way that you’re asleep already!” Impatient and eager to receive answers to his questions about George’s past, Sapnap grabs the door handle, turns it, and enters.

Upon walking into George’s bedroom for the first time, Sapnap realizes two things simultaneously: first, he has never been in here before, and second, he has just broken one of his roommate’s strictest rules.

Initially the band posters, a hung guitar, chess-related memorabilia, and even sports trophies mesmerize Sapnap before his eyes trail to the bedroom’s only light source: a small lamp beside a twin-sized bed, where George lays beneath an open window.

Realizing his mistake, Sapnap apologizes, “Hey, George, I know that it’s past 10pm, so I’m sorry if I woke you up, but -” Then his words taper off. His heart drops.

George was not asleep. He is not wearing any of his protective gear, either. His eyes are open, but his gaze is blank. With parted lips and a vacant expression, he lays completely still. His hands rest limply by his sides on top of the blanket. He looks dead.

Panicked, Sapnap rushes across the bedroom to his roommate’s side. On the small table near George’s head, eleven bottles of medication stand in a row, organized alphabetically. Terrified that his roommate has overdosed, Sapnap reaches to grab the bottles.

“Don’t touch anything.”

“What?” Sapnap freezes. His head snaps down to view George, who is actually both conscious and aware. Despite the drool which dribbles past his lips, the smaller man glares up at Sapnap with a stern expression.

“No touching.” George’s words are slurred, barely coherent, but still clear.

“Okay, I won't.” Relieved that his roommate’s life is not in danger, Sapnap relaxes and retracts his hand from the bottles of medication. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry.” George points a weak, trembling finger at the bottles. Hoarsely he reassures, “It’s normal. I take them every night.”

“You mean that you’re incapacitated like this every night?”

“Yeah. I take them at 9:45pm and they take effect at 10pm.” Unnervingly calm, George nods. “They’re all prescriptions.”

“So you take all of the medications at the same time, instead of throughout the day? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It can’t be more dangerous than the bacteria,” George shrugs.

“The bacteria?” Sapnap echoes, utterly confused.

Instead of explaining immediately, George reaches with a quaking arm to grab his specialized gas mask, which lays on his bedside table. With all of the strength that he can manage, he lifts his head off his pillow and fastens the mask’s straps behind his head. With a sigh of relief, he allows his head to fall back onto the pillow. After inhaling another few deep breaths, he turns his head to check the digital clock beside his bed, which reads 11:13pm.

“Ugh,” George mutters under his breath. “Another thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes until what?”

“Until I can f*cking focus.”

Sapnap blinks with surprise. He has never heard his roommate curse before. Clearing his throat, he asks awkwardly, “So then, uh, should I come back later?”

“Whatever, we both know that you’re an impatient guy.” Dryly George dismisses the offer. “And I’m already wearing my mask. We might as well talk now.”

Feeling slightly ashamed of his eagerness to learn the truth now instead of later, Sapnap only nods. “Okay.”

After another deep breath to recuperate his energy, George glances out his open window. Wistfully he watches the night sky before returning his gaze to Sapnap.

“During my first two years of university, I wasn’t like this.”

Sapnap listens intently as his roommate blinks up at the ceiling and dives into the story.

“I went to parties, I had friends, I played sports, I attended chess club meetings… I did everything. I also noticed that there were some problems. Lots of people talked to me about their bad experiences with relationships and all of that, so I had an idea.”

“You founded a group,” Sapnap guesses. He wonders about how much of this speech is impromptu, and about how much of it is practically memorized.

“Right, and those people from the picture tonight were all of my friends. We wanted to create a safe environment for people to just… be carefree and have fun. No judgment. No confusion. I called us, ‘the Hoppers’. Sometimes single people heard rumors about us, so they found us and asked us to give them a good time even though they didn’t want a relationship. We didn’t mind. Our group was flattered.”

“How many people did you date during that - how long was the time? Two years?”

“Uh…” Squinting, George considers, then he recalls, “718 people.”

“What?” Sapnap’s shock echoes off the bedroom walls. “How are you not, like, full of STDs by now?”

“I used protection,” George responds. Behind his gas mask, his deep umber eyes glitter with amusem*nt. “All of the Hoppers got tested for STDs every month, too, don’t worry. That was one of our rules.”

“Wait.” Suddenly remembering further details from his conversation with Anathi and the other former Hoppers, Sapnap frowns. “People said that you were sick, though. They told me that was why you left.”

“Yeah, that is why I left,” George affirms. Unbothered by the invasive questions, he adds, “But that shouldn’t be a surprise to you.”

“What do you mean? Are you, like, a contagious type of sick?”

“My doctors aren’t sure if I’m contagious,” George reveals reluctantly. “I could be, so I send them updates on my condition - and updates on your condition - every week.”

“You send them updates about me?” Caught off-guard when the conversation’s focus switches to him, Sapnap gestures to his own chest.

“Yes. Remember the waiver that you signed when you moved in with me?” When his roommate’s blank expression becomes vaguely guilty, George scoffs. “Ugh, you didn’t read it, did you?”

“Maybe I didn’t,” Sapnap huffs.

“Alright, well, then I guess I’ve got to tell you about that, too,” George rolls his eyes. He glances at his digital clock again, which reads 11:25pm. Gradually he is regaining his coherence and attentiveness as more time passes since he took his medication almost two hours ago.

“Before my third year at the university, I had to leave the Hoppers - temporarily, not permanently. I’m a microbiology major, so I was going to study new diseases in bat populations for three months over the summer. I was excited for the trip. It was supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I promised my friends that I would do it, then come back.” George sniffs once, then his eyelids flutter closed. “One night during the trip, a bat bit me. It crawled into my tent and I didn’t notice. Bats can carry lots of diseases, you know, so I went to the hospital as soon as I could.”

“Is that how you got sick?” Sapnap asks quietly. While George spoke, he subconsciously backed away, unable to forget George’s warning that his disease might be contagious.

“Yeah, and I got so sick that I couldn’t go back.” George’s voice is now rough from speaking. His tone is melancholy as he continues to stare up at the ceiling. “After the bite, I thought I would just heal and recover, but I had never felt that sick before. I had practically every kind of symptom: sweating, body aches, chills, fevers, coughing, even hallucinations and seizures sometimes. The doctors said that I would need monitoring, quarantines, and some sort of aggressive treatment plan, or else I would…” Suddenly he trails off with a heavy sigh. Before Sapnap can ask what he means, George finishes with a whisper, “Or else I would probably die, and maybe infect other people, too.”

Tense silence suffocates the bedroom as George and Sapnap realize how exhausted they both feel. Even as the side effects of George’s medication ebb, he does not become energetic. Instead his breathing slows, as if he wishes to fall asleep and forget about everything that has happened to him.

“Sometimes I miss my old life,” George admits. “Founding the Hoppers was a great way to find comfort and give comfort to other people: it was a distraction from everything bad about life. People loved me and that just felt… great. Fulfilling.” For the third time, he glances over to view the clock. 11:37pm. “When the doctors told me about this bacterial infection, and that it was something they had never seen before, I was really scared. I thought, what if I spread it to other people? As far as I know, I haven’t spread it to anyone else, so I want to keep it that way.”

Throughout George’s story, Sapnap felt mostly sympathy for his sick friend, but now he feels a hint of anger surging within him. He has known George for two months already, yet the information that his roommate might carry an incurable, contagious disease is new to him. What if he infects me?

“George, listen.” Sapnap speaks curtly. He waits until the other man’s deep umber gaze focuses on him through his gas mask. “I’m sorry to hear that you’ve got this disease because I’m sure that it’s super frustrating. I understand that you were scared, but we’ve been roommates for two months! Why is this the first time that you’re telling me the details about this? You have a contagious disease!”

“First of all, we’re not entirely sure if it’s contagious,” George defends. “As far as I know, I’ve never infected anyone else, but I don’t want to find out if I can!”

“If you’re so scared of infecting people, then you should live alone!” Sapnap’s voice pitches with disbelief. When George does not argue, he concedes, “Sure, I should’ve read that waiver before signing it. That was my mistake, but George, you can’t just keep a secret like this!”

“You’re right.” Instead of raising his voice to snap at his roommate, George only shrugs nonchalantly. He appears neither offended nor surprised. Without any sort of aggression in his tone, he accepts the blame: “We should have discussed this earlier.”

The fire in Sapnap’s gut reduces to a simmer. The worst of his anger ebbs, and he feels slightly guilty for shouting at his roommate so late at night, when the other man is clearly weak from his prescription medication. However, Sapnap is not willing to apologize yet.

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” he grumbles instead. Purposely he wraps his hand in the hem of his shirt to pull the bedroom door closed behind himself, leaving George to lay in bed alone.

While Sapnap spends the next day avoiding interactions with George, his relationship with Kylie continues to develop. Whether Sapnap is cooking in the apartment’s kitchen, sitting at his desk in his bedroom, or even biking between classes on the university campus, he is constantly monitoring his smartphone. Whenever it vibrates with a notification, he pulls it from his pocket to check if the message is from Kylie.

Rapidly the couple’s relationship blooms. Less than two days after their first meeting at the sports club’s party, their physical attraction to each other becomes less subtle. Exchanging hundreds of texts, Kylie and Sapnap allow nearly every conversation to spiral into flirtation.

Witnessing the first opportunity for a romantic relationship that he has experienced since starting university, Sapnap does not want to make any mistakes. He waits until the three-day-mark since meeting Kylie to ask about their first date this upcoming Friday.

She answers his call immediately.

“Hey, handsome,” Kylie greets smoothly. “What’s the plan for Friday?”

Thrilled to learn that his potential girlfriend is still receptive to a date, Sapnap considers the best way to proceed. “How about I pick you up at your apartment complex in the parking lot, then we’ll drive to a restaurant?”

“I like that idea,” Kylie agrees. “What are you into?” Although her question refers to Sapnap’s food preferences, its vagueness carries a sexual connotation, too.

“I’m into a lot of things,” he answers boldly, participating in the naughty game. “How about we decide where to eat once we meet on Friday?”

“Alright,” Kylie agrees. Then she becomes bold, too. “What is the plan for after dinner? If you’re interested, I think I want to do something fun.”

“I’m definitely interested.” With exaggerated curiosity, Sapnap pretends to be innocent. “What kind of ‘fun’ do you mean? Like, taking a walk to the mall?”

“Hm, I was thinking we could spend time together somewhere that’s more private, like my apartment, maybe? My roommates won’t be there.”

“That sounds good.” Sapnap can barely contain his enthusiasm. “I’ll text you about that later, then?”

“Alright. See you later, handsome.” Then Kylie hangs up.

With any luck, this suggestive conversation is only the first tantalizing hint of how Friday will end. Once Sapnap places his smartphone back onto his desk, he heaves a deep breath to calm himself while he rubs his face with his palms. He feels like Friday cannot happen soon enough. Sure, he and Kylie do not know each other well yet, but surely they will have plenty of time to become closer after they share such an intimate experience.

Full of adrenaline, Sapnap checks the time and realizes that he did not eat lunch. As if to remind him, his stomach twists with protest. I had better bulk up before meeting Kylie, Sapnap muses to himself. He stands from his chair, stretches, and tries to remember what foods are rich in protein. Pushing open his bedroom door, he expects to see an empty kitchen, but again, that is not what he discovers.

George is standing near the stove. His gloved hands rest on his hips as he watches a pot of lentil soup bubbling on the stovetop. After a few seconds, he uses a finger to wipe away steam as it fogs the clear shield of his gas mask.

This time, George notices Sapnap’s presence within moments. Turning his head, he faces his roommate with a guarded expression. He wants to say something.

Approaching a cabinet, Sapnap points at its handle with a glance at George, who shakes his head.

“I didn’t touch it. It’s clean.”

Sapnap hums curtly, then he grabs the handle and opens the cabinet. He assesses the wooden shelves before selecting a can of beef-and-bean chili. While he moves around in the kitchen, opening the can and pouring its contents into a microwave-safe bowl, he expects that George will recede into his bedroom. However, the other man remains in the kitchen, reluctant to leave even as he steps aside for his larger roommate.

Unfazed by the silent treatment, George waits until Sapnap removes a heated bowl of chili from the microwave and places it on the kitchen countertop before he asks, “Sapnap?” He waits until the other man looks up at him warily. “I was in the kitchen making soup, so I heard some parts of your phone call. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, I know, but you sounded like you were talking to someone new.”

First Sapnap stares with surprise and even with mild embarrassment. He imagines George making lentil soup in the kitchen, unable to escape from overhearing his roommate flirting with a stranger. Then Sapnap regains his wits. Proudly he shrugs, “It was a girl: a hot one. It’s too early to predict the future, of course, but we’re going out for a date next Friday, so maybe she’ll become my girlfriend.”

“That’s awesome,” George acknowledges the news with a small nod of congratulations. “Do you think you’ll -?” Abruptly he trails off, losing his confidence to finish the question.

“What?”

Hesitantly adjusting the strap of his gas mask, George asks a different question: “You’ve had trouble with finding dates before, right?”

“I guess so.” Although Sapnap doubts that George is trying to shame him, he is still sensitive about admitting his lack of relationship experience. “I’ve always been single.” Struggling to interpret George’s expression, Sapnap adds defensively, “But like I said, I hope that’s going to change soon. I want it to change soon.”

“Does that mean you -?” Again George pauses with an uncertain wince, but this time he finishes the question. “- that you want to do things with this girl, if she wants that, too?”

Sapnap stares with bewilderment. Only one week ago, his roommate barely spoke to him, and now George is asking about his sex life?

“Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?” Sapnap hopes that his challenging tone will warn George to mind his own business.

“Not at all,” the other man shakes his head quickly. “It’s a decision for you and your partner, not for me, but…”

“But?” Sapnap narrows his eyes.

“But do you know if there might be any… complications? Like, have you ever been tested for STDs?”

“No, I just told you that I’ve never been with someone before,” Sapnap points out. “I should be totally clean.”

“Regardless, you should get tested. Sometimes accidents happen.”

Sapnap scoffs with annoyance. I don’t want a closer relationship with my roommate if he’s just going to poke his face into my personal business and tell me how to live my life!

“George, you were right,” he states passive-aggressively. “It’s not your decision. It’s my decision. I’ll do whatever I want, and I won’t let you discourage me from my first real chance of making a connection with someone.”

“I’m not discouraging you from anything,” George insists. Without apology, he explains, “I’m telling you to be careful.” When Sapnap scowls stubbornly, he adds, “You can be mad at me. I don’t care if you hate me. I will tell you to get tested every single day if I have to do that. It could save lives.”

“Alright, fine,” Sapnap agrees. The sharpness does not fade from his tone as he promises, “I’ll get tested tomorrow. How about that?”

“Excellent.” George narrows his eyes. “That’s exactly what you should do.”

Neither of the roommates discuss the situation further. George serves himself a bowl of lentil soup while Sapnap brings his bowl of chili back to his bedroom.

Resolving that he will not speak to George again until he can flaunt a negative test in the other man’s face, Sapnap schedules a hospital appointment for the next day despite his skepticism. With a sick excitement, he imagines his roommate’s defeat when he receives the blame for attempting to ruin Sapnap’s sex life.

Four boys struggle to balance on the summit of a dirt hill as they overlook the gorge. Last week, the children followed a creek through the forested marshland near their homes until they discovered this gorge and the dirt hill above it. Enamored, they decided to come back today with their bicycles.

Three of the boys stand beside their bicycles, gripping handlebars as they squint in the sunlight from above. The fourth boy, an eleven-year-old Sapnap, sits on his bicycle seat; he is the only person in the group who wears a protective helmet.

“Come on, Sapnap, it’ll be easy!” One of the boys urges impatiently. “All you have to do is ride down the hill and fly over the gorge!”

“What if I fall into the creek?” Sapnap protests as he listens to the gentle trickling of water from down the slope.

“You won’t fall into the creek,” another boy assures. “And you’re the only one wearing a helmet, so you’ve got to do it!”

Sapnap’s sweaty palms grip his bicycle’s handlebars. Riding down the dirt hill seems dangerous, but the other boys have already mocked him for wearing a helmet. He does not want them to call him a coward, too! Deciding that he must preserve the rest of his dignity and impress his friends, he announces, “Alright, I’m gonna do it!”

The three other boys cheer with approval as Sapnap squints at the hill’s slope, then at the gorge where the creek lays at the bottom. He leans forward, allowing his bicycle to tilt and roll down the dirt hill.

The first few seconds are exhilarating. A gentle breeze whistles past Sapnap’s cheeks, through the tufts of soft hair that poke from beneath his helmet. The wind carries his giggles as he rides down the dirt hill, aiming for a small mound near the base so he can fly over the creek.

Sapnap never reaches that mound.

His bicycle’s front wheel strikes an unexpected dip in the dirt hill. The collision sends an ominous shiver through its metal frame. Abruptly the bicycle stops and spins sideways, tossing its rider off his seat.

Instinctively Sapnap thrusts his hands below himself to break his fall, but his palms touch nothing. A ragged gasp fills his lungs and a jagged rock slices into his side as he tumbles head-first into the gorge.

Sapnap closes his eyes, wishing that he had never come to this wretched place as the same jagged rock slices into his thigh, too. For one terrifying moment, his body touches only air while he falls. His scream echoes off the gorge’s towering walls.

The top half of Sapnap’s body lands in the shallow creek with a splash. His lower half lands upon the creek’s shore with a thud. Laying on his front, he feels cold water gushing around his top half and warm blood pooling below his lower half.

Unable to think or see clearly, Sapnap opens his mouth to call in a hoarse voice, “Help! Mom! Dad! Help me!” His cries are faint, inaudible from beyond the gorge.

Downstream, the creek water turns red. Sapnap hears the distant screams of children above him as three boys peer into the gorge. Panicking, his supposed friends ride away on their bicycles. After their departure, Sapnap hears only the bubbling water around him and the rustling leaves of trees.

Sapnap has never felt so helpless: so hopeless. He swallows his cries for help. Feeling incredibly alone, he drifts into unconsciousness.

Sapnap nearly dies from blood loss. Ironically, his helmet - the target of the other boys’ mockery - protects his brain from any permanent damage. The helmet’s bulk even keeps his head elevated enough so he does not drown in the creek.

The eleven-year-old boy wakes up without any idea of how much time has passed. He is no longer near the dirt hill or the gorge. He lays on a cot with an IV in one arm, with his parents by his side. His mother and father cry with relief when their son opens his eyes for the first time since the accident.

To avoid traumatizing the boy any further, Sapnap’s parents tell him only part of the story.

Only twenty minutes after Sapnap’s accident, a forest ranger found his body in the gorge and the abandoned bicycle on the dirt hill. The ranger brought him to the closest medical facility: not a hospital, but rather a tiny emergency station located on the outskirts of the forested marshland. Until Sapnap grows older, this is the only information that he knows about the accident.

After Sapnap’s brief time at the emergency station, he spends two weeks at home while he recovers. On the first day back at school, Sapnap is suspended for another week for starting a physical fight with the boys who left him in the gorge. When he returns, the school’s academic advisor places him in a different classroom to avoid any more fights.

For several years, Sapnap will be afraid to ride a bicycle again. He will also refuse to make any more friends until his teenage years. By the time he reaches adulthood, fear has festered inside of him: the fear of being rejected, outcast, and abandoned again.

Sometimes Sapnap’s fear manifests as anxiety, but usually it manifests as anger. He would rather feel enraged than afraid.

Just like he promised, Sapnap visits the hospital for STD tests. First a nurse measures his weight and blood pressure; xe finds nothing unordinary. Next Sapnap meets with his doctor. Although he feels awkward telling a stranger about his sex life - or rather, his lack of a sex life - he answers every question honestly.

“Have you ever engaged in sexual activity?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been screened for sexually transmitted diseases before?”

“I haven’t.”

After the doctor draws blood samples for testing, they send Sapnap home and tell him that the tests will require a few days to produce results. Sapnap thanks them for their time, slightly disappointed that he cannot receive the results immediately.

As Sapnap drives back to his apartment complex, he feels strange: he feels anxious. Why am I nervous? There’s nothing wrong with me. Despite these attempts to reassure himself, his anxiety grows.

Is Sapnap afraid of what will George say when he returns? Is he afraid that George will smirk with pride that he influenced his roommate’s behavior? Neither of these possibilities seem accurate. Then what? Am I afraid of being like him? When this new question enters Sapnap’s mind, he realizes that this is why he resisted getting tested so stubbornly. He did not want to receive a diagnosis which might force him to live an isolated life like George. Self-conscious - haunted by an insecurity he does not understand yet - Sapnap tries not to think about it.

Sapnap spends every day of the week preparing for his first date with Kylie. He exercises at the university’s fitness center until he is sore and sweaty. He adds protein powder to his water for muscle growth. He even researches “what do girls like to talk about” on the Internet so he will not seem as clueless as he is.

On Friday morning, Sapnap attends his morning classes before biking back to his apartment. Chest tight with anticipation for tonight, he plans to shower at midday, which will give him plenty of time to brush his hair, dress nicely, plan his route to Kylie’s apartment, and -

Suddenly Sapnap’s smartphone rings in his pocket, interrupting his concentration. He places his backpack on the floor of his bedroom, then he pulls out his vibrating phone. When he checks the caller ID, he recognizes the number of the hospital that he visited last week. His belly twists with discomfort, but he inhales a deep breath and answers the device anyway: “Hello?”

“Good morning, this is Dr. Jovie from the Sunny Valley Regional Hospital. Is this Sapnap Houston?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Recognizing his doctor’s voice, Sapnap asks, “Are you calling about my, uh -” He lowers his voice self-consciously. “- results?”

“Yes, we received them today. Are you somewhere that is both safe and private?”

“I am.” Dread pools at the bottom of Sapnap’s gut as he wonders why they asked that question.

“Good.” First the doctor describes how patients’ blood samples are processed in the hospital’s laboratory, but Sapnap struggles to pay attention until they finish, “- therefore, we can assume that your results are accurate with less than a 0.1-percent chance of error.”

“Okay.”

“After collecting blood samples during your visit, our laboratory screened them for chlamydia, Human Immunodeficiency Virus - that’s HIV - gonorrhea, hepatitis, Human Papillomavirus - that’s HPV, different from HIV - herpes, and syphilis.”

Sapnap’s head spins as he hears the unnervingly long list of sexually transmitted diseases. Feeling dizzy, he sits down in his desk chair.

“You tested negative for chlamydia, HIV, gonorrhea, HPV, hepatitis, and syphilis.”

Counting each STD in his head, Sapnap realizes that this second list is one entry too short. His palms sweat and feet tap against the floor.

“However, you did test positive for herpes.”

Sapnap’s breath hitches. Herpes. He feels like he is crumpling within himself, curling inwards like a decaying leaf.

No matter what the doctor claims about the accuracy of the hospital’s machinery, this result must be an error. His voice wavers when he questions, “How is that possible?” The doctor does not respond, so he presses frantically, “I’ve never been together with anyone. I’ve never even kissed anyone! The result must be wrong.”

From the other end of the line, Sapnap hears fingers typing on a keyboard as the doctor checks his medical record. There is a painfully long pause: a minute that feels like an hour.

“Sapnap, have you ever visited a medical facility that wasn’t associated with our hospital network?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Sapnap answers instinctively, still not thinking clearly… then he reconsiders. “Oh, wait, actually… I think I have. Yeah, I went to a different medical place one time. I had a bicycle accident when I was 11 years old.” After years of remaining deep in his subconscious mind, memories resurface. Sapnap remembers a breeze rushing past his face, a searing pain in his side, a ripple of water over his body, and a chilling fear that he would die alone. “I got hurt, so I needed a blood transfusion and stitches and stuff.”

“You received a blood transfusion?” The doctor asks levelly.

“Yeah, I did.” Carefully Sapnap lifts the lower hem of his t-shirt, allowing him to view the jagged, pinkish scar on his side from where the gorge’s jagged rocks sliced him open ten years ago. Tracing fingertips along the side of his jeans, he feels the other huge scar on his thigh through the fabric.

“Do you know if the other medical facility verified exactly who or where the donated blood came from?”

“No, but it was an emergency, so I don’t think they had time. My blood type is pretty rare - AB-negative - so I’m sure that they just gave me whatever donation they could find. Honestly I don’t really think that the doctors were professionals, either.” As Sapnap stares at his desk’s wooden surface, recalling what probably happened, the truth hits him.

The tiny medical facility on the outskirts of the marshland probably did not possess the time or the necessary equipment to screen donated blood for pathogens. Even if they did, the “doctors” were inexperienced, and maybe the person who donated their blood did not know that they carried an STD either. Everyone was distracted: desperate to save an injured eleven-year-old boy before he could die in front of them. No one considered that the donated blood which saved him would also curse him.

“How does herpes spread?” Sapnap’s voice rasps. “What if I just, like, had sex with someone anyway? What would happen?”

“Well, since herpes can travel through blood, sexual fluids, and saliva, you would need to warn your partners about potential transmission. If you are aware that you carry the herpes virus and you withhold that information from your partner, then you can be held liable in a civil court. Plus, I’m sure that you wouldn’t want your partner to receive the virus from you, anyway.”

“Is herpes curable, or will I have it… forever?”

“Unfortunately, there is currently no cure for herpes,” the doctor apologizes. “Currently it’s a lifelong condition. It’s possible that a cure will be developed in the future, but for now, all we can do is prescribe a treatment for your symptoms.”

“Oh,” Sapnap croaks. He wishes that he could spend the rest of eternity in his past: a time full of hope, when his own body did not feel like a prison.

“I’m sorry, Sapnap. This kind of news can feel overwhelming.” To reassure their devastated patient, the doctor continues gently, “But if you feel comfortable, we can discuss a few treatment options for you.”

For the first time since he arranged it, Sapnap forgets about his date tonight. More memories from the day in the marshland flood his mind, rendering him unable to concentrate on anything else. He never wants to feel alone or abandoned like that again.

When only one hour remains until Sapnap must leave to pick up Kylie from her apartment, he cannot distract himself anymore. After his call with the doctor Dr. Jovie, he performed frantic research into herpes. Distress nearly overwhelmed him when he learned that the herpes virus is not only incurable; it is also extremely contagious. If Sapnap kisses Kylie tonight, even his saliva might infect her.

Stuck in a daze, Sapnap showers and dresses himself in a soft yellow button-up shirt. Even as he brushes his damp hair in the mirror of the main living area, he feels like he cannot get enough oxygen from the apartment’s stuffy air.

Apparently George can sense the anxiety hovering nearby because he peeks out through a gap in his bedroom door. Sapnap sees the protruding mouthpiece of a specialized gas mask in his peripheral vision.

“What’s going on, Sapnap? You’re making more noise than usual.”

“Sorry,” Sapnap huffs, not feeling sorry at all. While spraying cologne upon his shirt collar, he admits reluctantly, “I just had a phone call earlier. I received my test results from the hospital.”

The bedroom door swings open. George emerges, pulling rubber gloves onto his hands and adjusting the straps of his gas mask. First he steps into the apartment’s main living area, then he opens a window for fresh air and approaches Sapnap’s side of the unit. Cautiously he interprets his roommate’s tense shoulders and strained expression, then he asks, “Did you test positive for something?”

He knows. How does he know?

“Herpes.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Sapnap stares at his roommate through the mirror. He expects the other man to wallow in triumph and to call Sapnap a fool for doubting him.

However, George does not do either of these things. Instead he just observes Sapnap’s frayed expression, then he asks, “What are you going to do tonight, then?”

Is the question only curious, or is it a challenge? Sapnap does not want to lose his dignity by appearing weak, so he turns to confront his roommate directly. “Hopefully this won’t change anything. I’ll just make sure that Kylie and I don’t kiss.”

“So you aren’t going to say anything about it?”

“It’s our first date, George,” Sapnap disputes. “I can’t just mention, like, ‘oh, I found out that I have an STD today’! Talking about herpes isn’t romantic! She’ll think that I’m weird if I say something about it. Plus, except for that waiver that I signed two months ago when we moved in, you didn’t tell me about your infection, either!”

“That’s different,” George defends. Deep umber eyes narrow behind his gas mask’s clear shield. “My infection is unique. No one knows how it works, but herpes? You know exactly what herpes does and how it spreads.”

“Yeah, but I still shouldn’t have to tell my girlfriend about it yet,” Sapnap resists stubbornly.

“Yes, you should have to tell her if you’re planning to have sex on the first date.” The roommate’s tone is dry with irritated exasperation.

Scowling with annoyance, Sapnap slings his bag over one shoulder and grabs his key ring off the kitchen countertop. He saunters past his roommate, then he slows and turns around when he nears the front door.

“This is the first chance in all of university that I’ve had to be spontaneous. Kylie and I connected immediately. That kind of connection might not happen to me again! I don’t want to miss my chance by telling Kylie about this whole ‘herpes’ issue on our first date. She barely knows me and this would just scare her away!”

“If you barely know each other, then why are you risking her entire f*cking health for your own dumb pride?” George finally snaps. Anger lights his eyes as he accuses, “You’re not even scared of infecting your girlfriend. You’re scared that your girlfriend won’t want to date you when she finds out that you’re an idiot!”

“Don’t call me that!” Sapnap opens the front door, steps out into the hallway, and slams the door closed behind himself. He vows to prove George wrong, not realizing that his roommate has perceived him more accurately than he perceives himself.

Sapnap does not want to believe that his first date with Kylie is doomed to fail, but when he sits in the driver’s seat of his car outside Kylie’s apartment complex, his thumb taps the steering wheel with an ominous sense of foreboding. When his smartphone vibrates on the empty passenger seat beside him, he flinches. What if that notification is from George? Planning a passive-aggressive response, Sapnap lifts the smartphone to check the notification.

Kylie: on my way!
Kylie: i hope u brought supplies for us ;)

Simultaneously, movement flickers in Sapnap’s peripheral vision. He looks up from the smartphone to see a woman wearing short white jeans and a flowery blouse. Although tonight’s temperature will be cold, she wore an outfit which exposes wide expanses of her skin.

“Nice shirt,” Kylie compliments Sapnap’s outfit as he unlocks the passenger-side door. She climbs into the car, and the scent of vanilla perfume wafts into Sapnap’s nostrils.

“Thanks. I like your makeup.” Sapnap glances down at her glossy red lipstick and wonders recklessly about how it tastes.

As the pair ride in Sapnap’s car away from Kylie’s apartment complex, they decide to eat dinner at a restaurant in the city. While Sapnap drives, watching the road before him, Kylie reaches sideways to pluck one of his hands off the steering wheel. She intertwines her manicured fingers with his, then she places his hand upon her thigh. A burning desire joins the nervous butterflies in the driver's gut. She wants him just as much as he wants her.

As the night continues, Sapnap and Kylie allow their lust to distract them from the warning signs that they may be incompatible as partners.

Sapnap wants to sit at a booth indoors so the pair can watch their food emerge from the kitchen. Kylie wants to sit at a shaded table outside to breathe fresh air.

Sapnap wants to split a deluxe meat pizza. Kylie confesses that she does not eat gluten.

Sapnap mentions that his dream home would be a spacious penthouse in the city. Kylie says that her dream home would be a rural farm with a horse stable.

Sapnap would like to raise children in the future, but Kylie despises children.

The first thing that Sapnap and Kylie agree to do is split the bill for their meal after they finish their food. Neither of them are interested in discussing money when such enticing tension hovers in the air.

A shiver of anticipation races down Sapnap’s spine when Kylie grabs his hand and whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”

Leaving tips behind for the restaurant’s wait staff, the pair stride out the front doors and into the fresh evening air. However, when cool relief saturates Sapnap’s lungs, it also brings a sense of clarity. In the distance, he sees his car waiting, parked beneath a glowing lamp in the parking lot. Simultaneously he realizes that he cannot stall any longer. His roommate George may be back at their apartment, yet he feels like the other man is watching him, waiting for him to do the right thing.

The right thing. Suddenly Sapnap’s fury weakens from its earlier strength. Yes, George invaded his private business, but the roommate was only worried about him. If Sapnap had not received a herpes diagnosis, then he might have become sick in the future without knowing the cause. George might have saved his life, but Sapnap dismissed him ungratefully. For the first time, Sapnap wonders if he should stop blaming his roommate and apologize to him instead.

Suddenly, before Kylie and Sapnap reach the parking lot, she tightens her grip on his hand and pauses in the middle of a sidewalk under a terrace. In the soft evening light, she seems to glow like an angel.

Tell her. Sapnap does not know if that inner voice belongs to George or to himself. He feels alarm, not excitement, when Kylie glances down at his lips. Wordlessly she reaches to hold both of his hands, and smiles with amusem*nt when he blushes.

Glancing between Kylie’s shining eyes, glossy hair, and her soft lips, Sapnap wants to kiss her… but he pulls away when she leans in.

Sapnap’s heart drops with dread when Kylie’s expression morphs into confusion.

“What’s wrong, Sapnap?” Removing one hand from his, she places a delicate hand on his bulky bicep and squeezes gently. “Don’t you want to -?”

“No, Kylie, I do want to,” he reassures hastily. The warnings from his doctor and from George cause him to recoil in a panic. “I really do. It’s just that… well, I need to tell you something first.” Long before he is ready, Sapnap forces himself to admit his secret. I could be held liable if I don’t tell her, he recalls.

“What is it?” Kylie’s expression shifts from confusion to suspicion. Her hand tenses upon his arm. The sparks that flew between the new couple promptly die, leaving only distrust to fill the dark void they left behind. “If I’m ugly, then you can just tell me.”

“No, you’re not ugly. You’re pretty, but I can’t do the whole kissing thing yet.”

“Why not?” Kylie’s hand slips off Sapnap’s bicep. She crosses her arms, looking slightly offended. “I thought that was the plan for tonight.”

“After we talked at the party, I assumed - well, I thought that maybe we would… do stuff tonight.” Barely able to maintain eye contact and hold still, Sapnap shifts upon his feet as his fingers twitch. “But I need to tell you something first.”

"Okay?" Kylie raises a wary eyebrow.

“I have herpes.”

Silence. The young woman’s eyes widen. She does not say anything.

To avoid frightening his new girlfriend, Sapnap explains quickly, “Technically herpes is contagious, but I’m going to start medication soon! I just got a prescription and my doctor said that it should only take a couple of weeks to make me less, you know…” He trails off, not wanting to utter the terrifying word “infectious”.

“Oh.” Kylie tries - and fails - to hide her revulsion. Her hands fall to her sides. She glances away, blinking as she processes the information, then she faces Sapnap again. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I only got the results recently,” he defends.

“Hm.” Kylie hums, but she does not provide a further clue about what she is thinking. First she glances toward the car, then returns her gaze to Sapnap. “Let’s keep walking, then.”

“Are we going back to your place?” Sapnap’s heart soars.

“Yeah.”

"Great!" Relieved, Sapnap walks with his girlfriend back to his car, where they climb into the front seats.

Beneath a gentle evening sky, Sapnap and Kylie drive across the city back to her apartment complex near their university. When they arrive, they see dozens of lights glowing along the sides of the buildings as students study, gather, and eat dinner. Everyone is living their own lives. Sapnap wonders if he will become friends with Kylie’s neighbors as their relationship continues… until Kylie breaks the silence.

“You can just drop me off at the curb here.” She points at the edge of the street that runs along the apartment complex’s front.

Puzzled, Sapnap shakes his head. “No, I should park instead. I don’t want to leave my car beside the curb.” For a compromise, he parks in an open spot close to the curb, hoping that he will not receive a ticket for not owning a parking pass.

Powering off his car’s engine, he hops out of the car as Kylie exits the passenger-side door. As his girlfriend walks back to the apartment complex, she does not wait for Sapnap to catch up. She does not even look back.

Sapnap hurries to follow Kylie as she hops onto the concrete curb and continues walking alone. Anxiously he calls, “Wait, Kylie!”

She grabs her bag and whirls around. “What are you trying to do?”

“What do you mean?” Sapnap freezes when he hears her confrontational tone. Realizing that their earlier conversation may be bothering her, he apologizes, “If you’re mad that I have herpes, I’m sorry. I was just kind of scared to tell you.” Despite the dread that haunts him, Sapnap finishes hopefully, “But like I said, after I start my medication, everything should be okay.”

“You know what, Sapnap?” Kylie's tone is oddly flat. “I’m glad that we met tonight. I had a lot of fun with you, but I don’t think that you’re really my type. It’s nothing personal, of course, but I don’t think a relationship would work between us.”

“You don’t want to meet up again?” Stuck in disbelief, Sapnap stares. I’m not her ‘type’? Rushing through his memories of the night, Sapnap wonders what caused Kylie to transform from flirtatious to cold. Hurt, he realizes exactly what changed her mind.

“No thanks,” Kylie shakes her head as she backs away. “I’m not interested.” Her gaze becomes a stern glare, warning the man that he should not argue.

Something snaps, and Sapnap’s dismay ebbs. Kylie’s rejection has ignited a spark within his core. Fire rises in his belly, heart, and lungs. Invisible smoke clouds his thoughts. A bitter taste touches his tongue.

“Let me clarify something, then.” Sapnap’s tone is low and dangerous. “You approached me at a party. We’ve been flirting for a whole week. You were totally into me until I was honest with you about something I can’t change, and now you don’t want me anymore?”

“That’s not true,” Kylie defends, crossing her arms.

“Then what’s your problem, huh? Do you think that I’m gross?” Hoping that he is blameless and that his reaction is perfectly understandable, Sapnap allows his fury to grow.

“I shouldn’t have to explain why I’m not interested anymore.” Avoiding both him and the question, Kylie continues backing away toward her apartment complex. She clutches her purse more tightly.

“You know what, Kylie?” The simmering fury overflows. Sapnap is enraged. “You’re a f*cking snake for using me like that: for tossing me aside like that.” Now it is his turn to back away. Pointing at his former girlfriend while he retreats to the concrete curb, he snarls, “You know what else? I should have had higher standards.”

“Are you serious?” The final sentence lights a spark within Kylie, too. Her lips part with shock, then they curl with disgust. “If this is how you act when a girl doesn’t want to sleep with you, then I guess I dodged a bullet! How dare you shame someone like that?” As Sapnap crosses the parking lot’s asphalt toward his car, she follows him and stops at the edge of the curb. “And do you know what, Sapnap? You probably deserved to catch that HIV or whatever it was. I’ll tell all of my friends about you so that none of them make the mistake of thinking that an asshole like you is attractive.”

“Go ahead. If your bitch friends are like you, then I wouldn’t want to date them anyway!”

Hostility poisons the fresh evening air as Sapnap and Kylie turn away from each other for the last time. Both exes storm away from each other with thoughts which are still dangerously hazy.

During Sapnap’s journey back to his apartment complex, tight fists clench around a steering wheel. Practically on autopilot, he drives more recklessly than he should. Rage lingers in his gritted teeth, hiding the misery which chokes his throat.

That was my first date in, like, forever, and it was a disaster. He feels like he was about to pass through an open door only for the door to slam closed in his face.

George is cooking dinner for himself when Sapnap unlocks the front door of their unit. Wearing his usual protective gear, the smaller man flinches with surprise and prepares to apologize for occupying the kitchen. However, before he can flee into his bedroom, the larger man confronts him.

“You said that the girl would be glad that I told her!”

This accusation requires no explanation. George knows immediately what he means.

“You told her?”

“Uh, yeah!” Secretly relishing the way that George stares at him, Sapnap allows his anger to fester again. “But when I told her, she didn’t want me anymore. We weren’t even officially together before we broke up!”

“Ah, okay. Sorry about that.” Unfazed, George glances down at a skillet of frying sweet potatoes on the stovetop. “I probably should have emphasized the ‘she’ll be glad if she cares about you’ part, but also, Sapnap, you literally said that you didn’t know her well. In that case, she didn’t know you well, either.”

“George, you don’t understand. I had a chance with that girl - the first chance at a relationship that I’ve had in a long time - but because I took your advice, that chance is gone!” Seeking revenge, Sapnap adds, “When you were a Hopper, you probably had sex with plenty of people who you didn’t know! Some of them probably had STDs without telling you, too!”

“If that’s true, then shame on them.” George shrugs nonchalantly. After adding seasoning to the frying sweet potatoes and stirring them, he places a lid on the skillet and faces Sapnap again. Even from behind the gas mask, his curt expression reveals that he is not finished. “However, the Hoppers got tested for STDs every month. We didn’t do it because we thought that people were trying to infect us. We got tested because we cared about other people.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Unwilling to continue a fight that he will not win, Sapnap rolls his eyes and exits the kitchen, leaving George to continue cooking. Still fuming, the angry man storms into his bedroom, closes the door behind himself, grabs his pillow off his bed, and slams it against the wall. Next he topples his desk chair to the floor, grunting when the clatter of wood against wood echoes sharply in his ears. This was not how tonight was supposed to unfold!

Kylie flirted with Sapnap and he flirted in return, but when she learned that a physical relationship could not happen immediately, she did not want him anymore… and he was angry that she was not attracted to him anymore. What a slu*t, Sapnap thinks to himself before he realizes how hollow those words sound within him. Guilt twists in his belly for thinking something so disrespectful. No matter the reason, Sapnap had shamed a woman for rejecting him.

Slowly the anger fades. Sapnap flops flat upon his twin-size bed. He waits for the next powerful emotion to grip him - another wave of rage or a hunger for revenge - yet he feels only numb… and frightened. A storm has brewed inside him for years, but tonight that storm has finally invaded his conscious mind.

When the eleven-year-old Sapnap experienced his accident back at the gorge, he lost consciousness with a belief that he would die alone. His trusted friends abandoned him, and he did not make any new friends for a long time afterwards. Maybe I didn’t recover like I thought I did. He survived because of pure luck, so it seems fitting that his miracle was a trickster.

Kylie’s words echo in the back of Sapnap’s mind: “You probably deserved to catch that HIV or whatever it was.” Was she speaking out of indignance, or was that the truth? Sapnap is not sure if he wants to know the answer… if an answer exists at all.

Flipping onto his back, Sapnap stares up at his ceiling. His bedroom is darker now, but it is also warmer. He inhales a shaky breath, frustrated when stuffy air fills his lungs. How long has he laid here, stuck in a daze as he recalls memories that he intended to forget?

A knock on the bedroom door causes him to flinch. Gasping, Sapnap lifts his head off his bed. His neck aches, for his pillow still lays on the bedroom floor.

“Sapnap, are you awake?” George’s question is soft.

First Sapnap remains quiet, wishing for his roommate to leave him alone. He is still unsure about how to treat George. Craning his neck, he observes a shadow that splits the golden light seeping under the door. His roommate has never knocked on his bedroom door like this, Sapnap admits begrudgingly. The issue must be important. Eventually he answers, “Yeah, I’m awake.” His response is breathy, sounding as if he really did just wake up.

“Have you eaten?”

Sapnap opens his mouth to say yes before his stomach roils with hunger. Surprised, he reaches to check his smartphone, which lays on the blanket near his knee. Its clock reads 10:37pm. With a truth that feels like a lie, he responds, “No, I haven’t eaten recently.”

“Then come and open the door. I have sweet potatoes for you.”

Sapnap frowns. When George was frying sweet potatoes on the stovetop, he was only preparing a single serving. Intrigued, Sapnap hauls himself off his bed. When he stands, his head spins and he sighs. Cautiously he opens the bedroom door.

George wears an additional pair of latex gloves on top of his regular rubber gloves. On one palm, he presents a small plate with chunks of fried sweet potato scattered upon it. Olive oil glistens in the light from the kitchen behind him.

“Are you sure that you want me to eat that?” Sapnap does not like the idea of George being hungry after sharing half of his food with a grumpy, ungrateful roommate.

“Yeah, take it.” George speaks with calm certainty. The storm within his companion does not intimidate him. He waits until Sapnap accepts the plate to offer a fork.

Despite the awkward situation of his roommate crossing his arms and watching him, Sapnap does not protest as he eats the sweet potatoes. Once he finishes, George plucks the used fork and plate from his hands and carries them to the kitchen sink.

“Hey, uh, thanks for the food, but can I ask why you brought it?”

Removing the pair of latex gloves, George reveals, “It was just an excuse to check on you.”

“Why?” Sapnap stares. He did not expect that his roommate would be so honest about his motives. “I yelled at you.”

“Whatever.” Leaning against the kitchen countertop, George maintains eye contact as Sapnap steps toward him, even as the larger man’s footsteps send vibrations through the hardwood floor. Sapnap feels a tightness around his joints before he remembers that has not even changed out of his button-up shirt yet.

Tense silence suffocates the apartment despite the open windows across the main living area. Only the refrigerator’s low hum occupies the uncomfortable wordlessness between the roommates… until a muffled buzz distracts Sapnap’s attention. Instinctively he turns his head to face the source: his bedroom. My phone, he realizes, noticing the absence of the device in his pocket.

Without even thinking, Sapnap leaves the kitchen and strides into his bedroom. Bright light from the smartphone’s screen slices through the darkness. However, when Sapnap approaches curiously, tilts his head to read the notifications, and reaches to grab the device, he freezes.

Several text messages from an unknown sender appear on the smartphone’s screen.

Throat dry, Sapnap unlocks his phone to read the text messages… and immediately he wishes that he had ignored them instead.

Unknown sender: hey asshole, it’s Kylie’s friend
Unknown sender: what is wrong with u??? girls dont owe u anything, u know
Unknown sender: i dont blame Kylie for wanting to avoid a guy with both an std AND a sh*tty attitude
Unknown sender: u r a garbage human being and i hope u know that. goodbye

Below those messages, a notification reads, “You have been blocked from messaging this number.”

First Sapnap is stunned, then he is unsettled. This is what Kylie said that she would do, he reminds himself. He cannot be surprised that she told her friends about their date, yet this stranger’s cold dismissal hurts him.

Stumbling out of his bedroom again with the smartphone in his pocket, Sapnap finds George in the kitchen, cleaning the cabinets and sink handles with disinfecting wipes. When the roommate hears heavy footsteps, he pauses and turns around. He says nothing, but he senses the shift in the other man’s mood.

Before George can ask about what happened during the date, Sapnap hisses, “That girl liked me, George. She liked me until I gave her this ridiculous plot twist that - oh no - I’ve got an incurable STD!”

George crosses his arms. “Well, if you met a girl and she told you that she had an incurable STD, would you still be attracted to her? Would you still be reckless like you are?”

“I mean, I would want to be careful,” Sapnap reasons. “I would stop and think, but then -”

“No, Sapnap,” George interrupts. “You’re not a careful guy. You never ‘stop and think’. You would feel differently about her, and you know that. Avoiding an STD isn’t selfish. It’s a rational decision.”

He’s right. Sapnap’s lungs tighten. His heart pounds with stress. Despite the apartment’s open windows, he feels like he cannot get enough oxygen. Against his own will to remain quiet, he blurts, “George, do you think you’ll be alone for the rest of your life?”

George blinks, then he shrugs. “No.” Tossing the used wipes into the waste bin, he explains, “I have lots of friends and I keep in contact with my family, so -”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sapnap interrupts sternly. “You have friends and family, but do you think that anyone will ever kiss you again? Will anyone call you - I don’t know - the ‘love of their life’?”

This time, George does not respond.

“No, no one will do that because you can’t go outside anymore." Sapnap answers the question for him. "You can’t touch or kiss anyone. You’re so nice, George. You brought me food that you cooked for yourself even though I was mean to you. You wouldn’t want anyone to suffer by feeling - by falling in love with you. You’re such a good person that you know it’s for the best if you don’t fall in love, either. If you do, then you’ll just be disappointed because that relationship won’t become physical.” Sapnap talks fast, and he feels like he is indirectly describing his own experiences… or rather the experiences that he will probably have.

George listens to the rant, but he does not appear offended. Perhaps he has considered all of this before, so none of this information is new to him.

Suddenly sick of his roommate’s silence, Sapnap urges, “George, respond to that. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

“I won’t tell you that you’re wrong.” George does not offer the blind reassurance that Sapnap feels desperate to receive. “Some of what you said might be true.”

“So you’re not mad?” Sapnap presses, yearning to hear that there is hope for George… and for himself. “You dated over 700 people, but now you can’t anymore, and you’re not going to defend yourself?”

“I don’t need to defend myself because I’m stronger than you, Sapnap. You’ll need to be stronger, too. When I got diagnosed with this bacterial infection - Toxobacillus - my life changed. I was angry because that bat could have bitten anyone, but I didn’t know why it happened to me. I just wanted to live my old life again, but as you can see, I had to become stronger instead. Maybe someday I won’t have to live like this anymore, but if I kept denying that I was sick, then I would be dead today.”

“I don’t know how you did that,” Sapnap confesses. His shoulders sag with exhaustion, and his lungs ache. “You lost your whole life.”

“Yeah, but as you know, I had my fun already,” George acknowledges. Briefly he wears an amused smirk before he returns to seriousness.

“I never had that,” Sapnap laments. “I never even had a relationship or a first kiss or anything! I mean, I’ve just been waiting for someone to want something like that with me. I thought that I might - I was waiting to find out who would keep me from being alone for - for the rest of my -” Suddenly he loses his composure. His voice cracks, and he slumps down. His knees thump against the floor as he hides his face in his palms. Warm tears seep between his fingers. “I never had a chance.”

First George retrieves another pair of latex gloves from a cabinet, then he slides them on to his hands and returns to Sapnap’s side. He leans down before gingerly rubbing the crying man’s shoulder: it is the first time that the roommates have ever exchanged physical contact.

Struggling to regain control over his emotions, Sapnap fails to suppress a sob.

“George, have you ever been a terrible person?” His hands muffle his already-weak voice. Uselessly he uncovers his face and wipes tears off his aching cheeks.

“I’ve been terrible plenty of times,” George answers levelly. He crouches beside Sapnap and continues to rub his shoulder. “People have to be villains sometimes.”

“You… you were right.” Sapnap’s vision blurs as he stares across the kitchen from the floor. “I might’ve been terrible to that girl, George. I blamed her, but maybe - I don’t know. Would I have made the same decision?” Remorse and self-hatred fuse in Sapnap’s heart. Bitterly he continues, “She won’t be the only person who will change their mind about dating me once they find out - once I tell them that I have herpes. It’s not even fair. I was just supposed to get a blood transfusion so I wouldn’t die, but now I’ve got this sh*t, and no one is going to want me because of it.” Sapnap wants to believe that he would not judge someone for having an STD, but he knows that it would be a lie. He judges himself for having one. He feels gross.

George guides Sapnap to sit on the couch and spare his knees, but Sapnap does not say anything else. He feels everything yet nothing at the same time. Is this what the rest of my life will be like?

For most of Sapnap’s time at the university, he wanted to be like the person who George was: a Hopper, someone elusive and desirable. Sapnap imagined walking across his university’s campus, inspiring shivers in the guts of people who were attracted to him. People would have whispered to each other with nudges and winks as he passed. Sapnap wanted that: he wanted to be a stud, a rogue, a wild stallion. He wanted previous partners to retain the memories of him being with them long after he left them… but of course, those were only fantasies.

Sapnap will never be like the man who George was, yet he is not like the man who George currently is, either. George might be alone, but he is strong. Sapnap is alone, too, but he is weak… and jealous.

Sapnap visits the hospital again. This time, he receives the first installment of a new prescription that will help him fight his herpes infection. Barely able to focus, he listens to warnings from the pharmacist about the potential side effects of the medication.

“Patients usually report that most of the side effects - like nausea, rashes, or headaches - fade within the first week. However, it is also completely normal for some side effects to last longer.”

“How long can the side effects last?”

“In some cases, one or more side effects - like fatigue or weight gain - can impact the patient for several months, but the extension of other side effects is uncommon.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem. Have a good day, Sir!”

Sapnap feels like a part of himself has died inside while he drives away from the hospital with a bottle of his new prescription. And I haven’t even started the medication yet, he thinks sourly.

When Sapnap parks his car back in his apartment complex’s parking lot, he discovers a new notification on his smartphone. His breath hitches as he anticipates a rude message from another one of Kylie’s friends, then he sighs with relief when he sees that the texts are only from George.

George: Hi Sapnap
George: Sorry to bother you but could you please pick up my groceries on your way back?
George: Thank you :]

Below those messages, Sapnap sees that his bank account has received its usual deposit of $5. He responds to George, “sure”.

As Sapnap walks, he squints in the bright daylight. All he wants to do right now is collapse into bed, fall asleep, and forget about everything, but he must pick up George’s groceries first.

Upon Sapnap’s arrival at the postage room, he peeks into the window before approaching the front door. Yes, the postage room is open, but as usual, it is empty except for the receptionist.

When the door opens, Dream glances up from his notepad with a bored frown, but when he recognizes Sapnap, his lips part with surprise and his teal eyes widen with astonishment. “Sapnap! Hello!”

“Hey, Dream.” Sapnap struggles to force a smile.

Dream notices the customer’s sour mood immediately. Sitting up, he adjusts his uniform and grips the armrests of his chair. “Are you alright? What’s wrong? Can I help?”

“I just had a bad day,” Sapnap lies. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, okay.” Dream’s concern does not fade, but he does not press the issue either. Nervously he tilts his head toward the opposite side of the room. “You have another delivery.”

“Thanks.” Sapnap prepares to let this be the end of their interaction, but when he turns around to view the delivery, his chest tightens with irritation.

George ordered a lot of stuff: large items, too. A 24-pack of toilet paper, a 12-pack of paper towels, tubes of disinfecting wipes, and a liter of hand sanitizer.

Sighing to himself, Sapnap mutters, “Well, this won’t be fun.”

“It is a lot of stuff,” Dream admits. After a hesitant pause, he asks hopefully, “Will you need any help with carrying them?”

“Ugh, probably.” Usually Sapnap would decline the assistance and simply make multiple trips, but a busy weekend of hating himself has left him oddly frail.

“Alright!” Dream does not need any further encouragement. Bounding up from his swiveling chair, he hurries around the reception desk to help the customer. “Let’s do this.”

“Don’t you need to stay at the desk, though?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s rarely busy until the afternoons,” Dream explains. “I have plenty of time.” Enthusiastically he stacks the 12-pack of paper towels upon the 24-pack of toilet paper, then he gathers the stack into both arms.

“Cool, thanks.” Lifting the wipes and hand sanitizer into his arms, Sapnap leads Dream out of the postage room and across the apartment complex. Every few seconds, he glances back to ensure the other man is still following him up the stairs and along the hallway that leads to his unit. As they walk, Dream asks him a plethora of curious questions about his classes, his major, his favorite color, his favorite foods, and his music preferences. While Sapnap answers the questions, he wonders why Dream is so interested in learning the details of his life until they reach their destination.

“Here’s my apartment.” Sapnap slows his pace when they reach a particular door of the hallway. He stops and places the grocery bags upon the carpeted floor so he can unlock the door. “Thanks for your help with bringing everything here.”

“Of course!” Dream nods with a friendly smile. “Do you need help with putting stuff away, too?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I can handle it,” Sapnap declines politely. “I don’t want to keep you away from the postage room for any longer.”

“Oh, it’s really not a big deal,” Dream assures. However, he leans down to place the packages upon the floor anyway. “But that’s totally fine. I’ll wait here.”

“Cool.” Sapnap transfers the groceries into the apartment unit and emerges one more time. He intends to thank the receptionist for his help and say a final goodbye, but Dream does not back away to leave.

“How was your weekend?”

“It was stressful,” Sapnap admits. “I had a first date on Friday, but it didn’t go well, so there won't be a second date.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about that!” Dream tilts his head sympathetically. “But you shouldn’t blame yourself too much. That date could have been doomed to fail from the beginning.” When Sapnap only listens without responding, the receptionist adds shyly, “And I hope you don’t let one bad date convince you that you’re unattractive or something.”

“No, but I think I just… have some problems.” Sapnap shrugs, then he acknowledges, “But thanks for the self-confidence boost, Dream. After this, I guess I’ll just… go back to my solo life.”

“Does that mean you’re still -?” Dream begins to ask a question, then he trails off. Freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment, and he glances away. “Nothing.”

“No, what was it?” Sapnap encourages, rubbing one eye as he leans back against the door frame.

“Well, I was going to ask if you were, um - you know…” Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Dream finishes hastily, “Still single?”

“Ah.” Usually Sapnap would interpret the question “are you single?” as a challenge, but he is too tired and Dream seems genuinely nice, so he just nods. “Yeah, I’m still single.”

Silence. The receptionist searches the customer's gaze with a fervent intensity. Noticing the awkward pause, Sapnap changes the subject as he steps into his apartment unit.

“Alright, well, I hope that you have a good day, Dream. Thanks for your help. It means a lot. You’re pretty awesome.”

Practically glowing from the compliment, Dream opens his mouth, but no words emerge before his jaw snaps shut again.

Amused to see that such a small comment meant so much to the receptionist, Sapnap smiles genuinely this time. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” Regaining his wits, Dream flashes a thumbs-up. “And, I mean, of course, if you ever need anything - a favor or a hug or whatever - you know where to find me.”

“Sounds good,” Sapnap agrees.

Somehow Dream still appears overwhelmed when the pair say their final goodbyes and Sapnap closes the front door of his apartment unit.

After a moment, soft footsteps echo as the receptionist hurries down the hallway back to the postage room.

With a heavy sigh, Sapnap carries the paper bag with his new prescription into his bedroom and places it on his work desk, then he calls to his roommate, “George, the groceries are here!”

“Okay!” A muffled response comes from behind the other man’s door.

In his bedroom, Sapnap spends the rest of the day lost in a gloomy haze. He misses that short, refreshing moment of happiness that he felt while talking with the postage room’s receptionist. Ultimately, after many hours of procrastination, he takes the first dose of his new herpes medication.

This is the second time that a life-saving treatment has brought a curse with it. By now, Sapnap has taken a dose of his new herpes medication every day for one week, and he has never felt so perpetually exhausted.

When Sapnap’s alarm rings on Monday morning, warning him to get out of bed and leave for class, he fights the urge to scream into his pillow.

After waking up extremely sick last Tuesday, Sapnap has only left his bed for two purposes: eating and using the restroom. No showers, no exercise, and no social interaction. Even today, he has performed only two activities: sleeping, and wishing that he were asleep instead of staring blankly at a wall.

From Tuesday to Friday last week, Sapnap missed every single class. Fortunately he received a week-long break from assignments after emailing a doctor’s note to his professors, but the protection from his medical excuse will not last. If he misses classes today, too, then he will fall behind on assignments and lose points.

Reaching to turn off his alarm, Sapnap rubs his eyes and groans, then he hauls himself out of bed. He squints in the pale light that seeps through the window blinds. Like a walking corpse, Sapnap staggers across the apartment unit and grits his teeth as another wave of nausea rushes through his gut. It’s just a side effect. It’s just temporary. He repeats these reassurances to himself.

Despite Sapnap’s dizziness and his drowsiness, he slips his feet into his athletic shoes and slings his backpack onto his shoulders. He does not feel hungry for breakfast, so he just walks out the front door and pleads silently for strength.

Biking across the university campus requires nearly all of Sapnap’s physical energy, and paying attention to his lectures requires nearly all of his mental energy, too. After his first class concludes, he resists the temptation to fall asleep in the lecture hall before he reminds himself that he has another class today.

Thankfully the second lecture is located in a nearby building, but when Sapnap finishes this one, too, he is dismayed to learn that has not recovered any of his physical energy. He did not bother to write notes in class nor did he pay attention to the second half of the lecture.

Feeling even weaker than earlier, Sapnap decides to walk his bicycle back to the apartment complex instead of riding it. He stares at the concrete pathway directly ahead while he crosses the campus. Shivering in the chilly November weather, he glances up every few minutes until he sees the apartment complex looming into view. Then, with the most inconvenient timing, another wave of nausea slams into him. Gritting his teeth, Sapnap changes directions and steers his bicycle toward an unoccupied bench. Leaning his bicycle against the bench, he seats himself and sighs with frustration. The world seems to spin slowly around him.

With agonizing slowness, the wave of nausea passes. Sapnap’s hands grip his kneecaps as he catches his breath. A few students glance at him while they pass, but no one stops to speak to him. He does not mind; he does not want anyone to recognize him or wonder why he looks so weak.

After fifteen minutes, Sapnap notices absently that the traffic of students passing has thinned. Most students have either arrived at their classes or they have left the campus, so the concrete pathway is almost deserted in both directions.

In the distance, a tall man approaches alone from the direction of the apartment complex. Wearing a dark green button-up shirt and a backpack slung over one shoulder, he passes under leafless winter trees.

Self-consciously Sapnap straightens his shoulders when he recognizes the postage room’s receptionist. “Dream?” Despite his annoyance at the interruption of his rest, he feels relieved to have company.

“Sapnap!” Instantly Dream’s expression morphs from indifferent to excited, and his pace quickens from casual to lively. When he reaches the bench, he skids to a halt. “Can I sit with you?”

“Sure,” Sapnap shrugs. Hoping that he does not smell like he has not showered in a week, he scoots aside so the receptionist can sit with him. He avoids eye contact, but he cannot hide his fatigue from Dream’s perception.

“What’s wrong?”

“Honestly, I’m not doing great,” Sapnap mutters. “I got a new prescription and I’m having side effects.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry about that.” Dream’s smile softens with sympathy. “What was the prescription for?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sapnap shakes his head. His limbs ache, and he wishes to return to his bed again.

“Oh. Okay.” Dream appears slightly hurt that his friend does not want to discuss his illness, but he does not press the issue. Clearing his throat, he asks awkwardly, “Is there, um, any way that I can help?”

Sapnap opens his mouth to say no, but he does not receive an opportunity to speak before the receptionist blurts,

“Wait! Have you eaten?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then you should eat.” Removing his backpack from his shoulder, Dream unzips its main compartment and rummages through its contents. He mutters under his breath, “Hold on, it’s in here somewhere -” Reaching deep into the backpack, he grabs something and announces triumphantly, “Ah, here it is!” The receptionist pulls a sealed plastic bag full of shredded cabbage from his backpack.

“What is that?”

“It’s a salad. I stole it.”

“You stole… a salad?”

“Yes, I did! I snuck in when no one was looking, I grabbed a cabbage, and then I ran.” Without any further explanation, Dream reaches into a different compartment of his backpack and pulls out a compostable fork. He shoves the bag of cabbage and the fork into Sapnap’s hands. When the other man only stares, baffled, the receptionist assures, “Oh, don’t worry, it’s vegan. There’s some spinach in there, too. I call it my Vitamin A Power Bag.”

Under other circ*mstances, Sapnap would definitely refuse the offer, but he cannot remember the last time when he ate a fresh vegetable. Anyway this feels like something that a friend like George would offer. Therefore he accepts the free meal. “Wow, uh, thanks, Dream. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Dream watches as Sapnap opens the plastic bag and dips the fork into the huge wad of cabbage and spinach.

After eating a few crunchy bites, Sapnap asks, “How did you find me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, this campus is huge. Were you looking for me?”

“Actually I was walking to the library.” Smiling shyly, Dream points in the direction of the library, which is hidden behind the university buildings. “But I wasn’t in a rush, so now I’m here with you!”

Sapnap hums his acknowledgment and eats another bite of dry cabbage, which seems to stick to his throat as he swallows it. “Do you ever eat the whole bag?”

“Usually I do, yeah,” Dream nods. “But cabbage and spinach require more energy to digest than they provide to the body, so I don’t eat salads all the time.”

“Interesting.” Sapnap’s nose twitches when a single shred of cabbage becomes stuck to the facial hair that has grown on his upper lip. He sticks out his tongue to pull it off. When he glances at Dream again, he notices that the receptionist is staring.

“Sorry, I should’ve looked away before I did that,” Sapnap apologizes.

“Oh no, it’s totally fine!” Hastily Dream dismisses the apology. “I just - I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with facial hair that long.”

“You like it?” Sapnap strokes the scruff on his jaw with one thumb. He offers a genuine smile: his first expression of positivity in a week.

“I do,” Dream nods honestly. “It makes you look very rugged.”

“Thanks.” Deciding that he should probably donate a compliment in return, Sapnap glances down, away from Dream’s face, then he responds, “I really like your shirt today, too.”

“This one?” Dream’s eyes widen. Looking down at himself, he puffs his chest and pulls down on the fabric’s lower hem. “The shirt that I’m wearing now?”

“Yeah, you look fancy,” Sapnap confirms, glad that such a simple compliment caused such a flattered reaction. “I think green is a good color for you.”

“Wow, thank you!”

“Of course.” Satisfied, Sapnap seals the plastic bag of shredded cabbage again.

“You should keep the rest of the Vitamin A Power Bag, especially if you’re recovering from being sick or whatever.” Dream stands from the bench, zips up his backpack, and slings it over his shoulder again. “I’ll buy something else from the campus restaurant later.”

“Okay,” Sapnap nods gratefully. Standing from the bench, he grabs the handlebars of his bicycle. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“I’ll see you later,” Dream agrees. Backing away, he sends a warm smile and waves. “I hope you feel better soon!” He turns away and continues his journey to the library.

“Thanks!” Sapnap’s response is flat: forced. Bitterly he muses that he cannot recover from the main cause of his grief - herpes - but he does not want to end the conversation negatively. Turning away from Dream, he walks with his bicycle in the direction of the apartment complex.

When Sapnap arrives at the building, he returns his bicycle to its rack and takes the elevator instead of the stairs to the third floor. Sweating despite the chilly November weather, he travels along the hallway and unlocks the unit’s front door.

That afternoon, Sapnap showers for the first time in one week. Inhaling steam, he runs tingling fingers through oily hair. After twenty minutes, he emerges and wraps a fluffy white towel around himself. Leaving wet footprints behind, he walks to his bedroom and dresses himself in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants.

Like Dream predicted, Sapnap feels hungry relatively soon after eating the salad. It burns more energy to digest than it provides, he recalls.

Appreciating the dim light in the apartment unit, Sapnap enters the kitchen and heats a frozen burrito in the microwave. He watches the food spin slowly, allowing the machine's low hum to embrace him… before someone clears their throat.

Flinching with surprise, Sapnap turns around to see his roommate sitting on the floor.

“George?”

“Sapnap.” Wrapping gloved hands around his knees, George blinks expectantly up at his roommate. Before him, he has set up a chess board with every piece in its starting position.

“Why are you there?”

“I’m waiting for you.” Adjusting his gas mask, George encourages, “When your food is done, come sit here.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to play chess.”

“I’ve never played chess.”

“Well, then, you’ll learn today.” George switches to a cross-legged position as Sapnap places his heated burrito onto a plate and seats himself on the couch. Fresh air from the apartment’s open window drifts into the main living area. “Have you really never played chess before?”

“I know how to play it,” Sapnap admits grudgingly. “But I’ve never played it with someone.”

“Great, then you’ll learn fast.” Gesturing to the side of the board that is closer to Sapnap’s bare feet, the other roommate instructs, “Tell me which piece and where you want me to move it, so you don’t have to touch the pieces.”

“Why can’t I touch the pieces?”

“Because I touched them.” Stretching his wrists, George beckons, “I’ll move first.” He places a white pawn forward. “Your turn.”

“Uh… move that pawn over there.”

George moves the black pawn for him, then he moves one of his own pieces.

Even though George suggests certain moves for Sapnap, he still beats his opponent in about three minutes. He announces, “Checkmate!”

“What? How?” Sapnap frowns at the board.

“My queen is here, my pawn is here, my rook is here, and your king is there.” Pointing at each of the pieces as he states their names, George explains calmly, “I’ve cut off every way that your king can escape. It’s checkmate.”

“That wasn’t very fun,” Sapnap scoffs.

“I wasn’t trying to make it fun.” Undeterred, George prompts, “Sapnap, what are you thinking about right now?”

“I’m thinking about how much of an asshole you are.” The response is dry, but not entirely serious.

“That’s better than thinking about how miserable you are,” George approves curtly. “Want to play again?”

Realizing that George is trying to help him, Sapnap allows himself to relax. Although he is not excited to lose another game, he agrees, “Sure.”

The roommates play several rounds of chess. Each time, Sapnap convinces himself that this will be his final attempt, but gradually he becomes determined to win at least once.

George is patient with the inexperienced player and provides an uncharacteristic amount of encouragement. Only he knows from experience how much strength Sapnap will need for the months ahead.

The three-week-long break in December was supposed to be relaxing. Sapnap should be returning to his apartment unit with a fresh air of rejuvenation. Instead he returns with a weary scowl, one that he has worn since boarding an airplane this morning and flying out of his hometown.

Thanking the driver of his rideshare, Sapnap drags his bulging duffel bag off the backseat and closes the car door behind himself. Tires crunch upon greasy asphalt as the rideshare leaves its customer behind on the concrete curb of his apartment complex.

For the first time in three weeks, Sapnap approaches the elevator that will take him to the third floor. He has not used the stairs in over a month.

The duffel bag weighs heavy on the man’s broad shoulder, but it was not the cause of his exhaustion. Sapnap’s eyes used to be sharp with wit, but now they are bleary. As his body adjusted to the herpes medication, most of the side effects disappeared… except for the one that haunts him now.

During holiday dinners, no family members commented about Sapnap’s weight gain, but everyone noticed. In his peripheral vision, he saw his uncles staring at him, but they looked away when he lifted his eyes. When he confessed that he had not found a girlfriend yet, his aunts glanced nervously at each other. When Sapnap enjoyed his mother’s pot roast and requested another serving, his grandmother cleared her throat before his cousin sent her a warning glare.

Sapnap almost wished that someone had insulted his new, larger body size so he could react with justifiable outrage… but no one said anything.

Now he enters the hallway of his apartment unit, painfully aware of how his loose t-shirt has become tight-fitting.

When he reaches his unit, he discovers a note taped to the front door.

NOTICE: There is currently 1 package waiting for Sapnap Houston at the postage room. Please pick up your mail as soon as possible. Thank you.

I’ll pick up the mail later, Sapnap decides, pulling the note off the door. Gripping his duffel bag with one hand, he unlocks and pushes open the door to his unit. The window in the main living area is already open. George must have returned already, or maybe he never left at all.

Muted gray sunlight streams through the window in Sapnap’s bedroom. Particles of dust waft into the stuffy air when he tosses his duffel bag onto the twin-size bed.

Sighing, Sapnap appreciates the silence around himself, then he leaves the bedroom to wash his hands. While he stands at the sink, he hears his smartphone vibrate with a notification. After he dries his wet hands with a towel and picks up the phone, he sees a text from his roommate.

George: Hi Sapnap, welcome back
George: Sorry to bother you so soon, but I need you to pick up a bag of groceries for me, please

The apologetic roommate has sent a $10 deposit to Sapnap’s bank account, too.

Rubbing his temples with irritation, Sapnap responds, sure no problem.

George: thank youuuu

Until now, George has been empathetic to Sapnap’s struggles, but he also relies on him for groceries. I guess that he couldn’t wait for much longer, Sapnap realizes. His annoyance dissipates, leaving only sympathy behind. He was gone for three weeks during December, so his roommate must have rationed his food until the other man’s return.

Glancing at his duffel bag, Sapnap changes his decision. He can unpack later.

Gathering his smartphone and keys, Sapnap leaves the apartment only minutes after his arrival. His throat feels dry with thirst, and he still feels exhausted after his long flight back from his hometown. His stomach roils with hunger as he waits for the elevator to arrive; maybe he can order a pizza delivery to avoid being seen in public.

When the elevator takes Sapnap from the third floor back to the ground, he uses the sidewalk around the courtyard’s perimeter. As he approaches the postage room, he wonders if the receptionist Dream has returned from his three-week-long break, too.

An unexpected hint of anxiety causes Sapnap’s heart to beat faster. What will the receptionist think? Surely he will notice his customer’s weight gain, but will he say anything about it? Suddenly Sapnap wishes that he had not agreed so readily to fetch George’s groceries, but it is too late now. Arriving at the postage room, he inhales a deep breath and pulls open the door.

Dream sits in a swiveling chair behind the reception desk. One of his hands holds the mouse of a computer; he scrolls lazily as his teal eyes scan the screen. His other elbow rests upon the desk surface with its palm propping up his jaw. Wearing an absent expression and a dark green shirt, he appears completely bored. When Dream notices the customer in his peripheral vision, he scowls at the computer screen and points across the postage room. Impatiently he growls, “Nope. No talking. Deliveries are over there. Just get your stuff and go.”

Blinking with surprise, Sapnap apologizes, “Oh, uh, sorry for interrupting -”

Before the customer can finish his apology, Dream recognizes Sapnap’s voice. For the first time, he looks away from the computer screen to view the visitor. His eyes widen and his jaw drops.

Unsure of how to interpret the reaction, Sapnap gives a small wave. “Hi, Dream.”

“Sap!” Instantly the receptionist brightens, voice pitching with enthusiasm. His knees slam into the underside of his desk with an audible thump as he scrambles out of his chair. Skirting around the reception desk, he greets the visitor. “You’re back! Welcome back!” Without waiting for a response, Dream looks up and down at the customer. “Wow, you look so handsome today, but you look a little tired, too! You must’ve had an early flight. How was the trip home? Have you eaten yet?”

The flood of excited questions nearly overwhelms Sapnap until he answers, “Uh, yeah, my flight was this morning. I am a little tired, too, so I think I’ll just order a pizza or something.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes total sense!” Listening intently, the receptionist nods as he fetches the bag of George’s groceries for his customer. “Here, these are yours.”

“Thanks.” Sapnap accepts the plastic bag from the receptionist’s hands. He prepares to turn away and leave Dream behind before the other man blurts,

“Wait, Sapnap, did you get a note on your door, too?”

Remembering the piece of paper, Sapnap confirms, “Yeah, I think it said that I have a package.”

“You do!” Turning away, Dream hurries to the row of lockers that line the postage room’s storage area. Unlocking one of the lockers, he reaches inside, then he hesitates and looks back over one shoulder. “Actually, can you close your eyes, please? The package is from me.”

“From you?” Surprised, Sapnap closes his eyes. He shoves both hands into his pockets before he apologizes awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think that you might get something for me. If I had known, I would’ve brought something for you, too.” Feeling guilty that he never considered buying a gift for the receptionist in return, Sapnap prepares to refuse the gift, but he does not receive a chance to respond.

“Oh no, don’t say sorry!” Hastily Dream dismisses the apology. “It’s just a small thing.” Sounding oddly nervous, the receptionist asks, “Sapnap, do you remember when we sat on the bench together?”

“Yeah, I do.” Sapnap is unwilling to admit that he has not thought about that moment at all since it happened, so he lets the receptionist speak.

“Well, I noticed that you seemed kind of - I don’t know - sad, so I thought about what helps me feel less upset whenever I’m sad.”

Sapnap’s lungs tense with disbelief when he hears rustling.

Pulling the item out from behind his back, Dream inhales a deep breath and permits, “Okay, you can look now.”

Opening his eyes, Sapnap looks.

In both hands, Dream presents a gift basket full of small, colorful objects. The receptionist’s freckled cheeks are flushed with anticipation. “I collect soap sculptures, and I wanted to share some with you.” Reaching into the gift basket, he points at each miniature sculpture. “Look, this vanilla-scented one is shaped like a cow! Even better, this mint-scented one is shaped like a dolphin, this lavender-scented one is shaped like a spider, this barbecue-scented one is shaped like an elephant, and there are more, too! The only scents that I don’t own are coffee and pumpkin spice, since I hate those.”

“Wow, Dream, I, uh -” Sapnap’s head spins as he struggles to respond. Dream must know so little about him, yet this man saw enough in him to deem him worthy of a gift. The act restores a small piece of Sapnap’s shattered self-confidence. When he finally regains his wits, he stammers, “I really appreciate all of this. You didn’t have to bring me anything, but I mean, I would love to take the basket.”

“Really? Great!” Overjoyed, Dream shoves the gift basket into his hands.

“Thanks.” Feeling guilty that he cannot offer a more energetic reaction, Sapnap smiles and responds with soft honesty, “You’re a really cool guy, Dream.” Backing away from the reception desk with the gift basket in his hands, he prepares to turn and leave.

“Oh, wait, don’t go yet!” Frantically opening and closing desk drawers, Dream searches for something. “There’s something else. Hold on, let me just - here it is!” Gleaming with triumph, he lifts another small object as he sits back down in his chair. “Take this, too. It’s a chocolate bar with hazelnuts. It was an impulse purchase from yesterday, but it was vegan, so I knew I had to buy it.”

“A chocolate bar?” Sapnap wants to accept the gift, but he hesitates. Suddenly self-conscious about his size again, he shakes his head and tries to think of an excuse. “It looks delicious, but Dream, you already gave me an entire gift basket! I think I’ll just take the soap sculptures.”

“No, really, you can take it!” Dream is undeterred, but he is also curious. “Unless you don’t like chocolate? If there’s something else that you like, then I would be happy to bring something else and you can pick it up tomorrow -”

Before the receptionist can offer another solution, Sapnap interrupts him gently, “No, I do like chocolate, but it probably wouldn’t be good for me because I’m - you know -” Glancing down, he gestures sheepishly down at his body. “- like this now.”

Dream glances down at his body, then he returns his gaze to the customer's face. He guesses, “You… have allergies?”

“No, it’s - ugh.” Exasperated, Sapnap clarifies, “I’m big now.”

“Do you not want the chocolate, then?” Worried about offending his friend, Dream backtracks quickly. “I’m sorry. I never checked the back of the label to see how much sugar it has. I would be happy to split it with you so that you only get half of however much sugar is in it -”

“Whatever. It’s fine.” Sapnap sighs, too guilty to allow his inward-facing resentment to hurt the receptionist’s feelings. “I’ll take the bar.” Offering a smile that is tired but genuine, Sapnap takes the chocolate bar, tosses it onto the soap sculptures, and steps into the postage room’s doorway. “Thanks for the gift basket, Dream.”

“No problem.” Relieved but still concerned about his troubled friend, Dream nods, “Have a good day, Sapnap!”

“You, too!” Once he ends the social interaction, Sapnap allows himself to relax. Adjusting his grip on the handles of the gift basket and the plastic bag of groceries, he strolls away from the postage room and across the courtyard that leads to the elevator. As he walks, a tingling sensation in his gut causes him to slow down and glance back over one shoulder.

Through the clear glass window of the postage room, piercing teal and bright hazel meet again.

Swiftly Dream looks back down at his computer screen in a failed attempt to hide that he was staring. Sapnap despises attention now, yet the receptionist’s embarrassment is kind of… endearing. Being a receptionist must be really boring if talking to some grumpy dude about soap and chocolate is the highlight of Dream’s shift.

Subconsciously smiling to himself, Sapnap returns to his apartment unit. Placing the gift basket and plastic bag onto the hallway’s floor, he unlocks the door and enters again.

“Hey, George, I’m back!”

“Welcome home!” A polite response echoes from beyond the bedroom's closed door. As Sapnap walks away to put the gift basket on his work desk and George’s plastic bag on the kitchen countertop, the other man emerges. Long jeans, a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, elbow-length rubber gloves, and a specialized gas mask that covers his entire face: the same outfit as always. Cautiously he joins Sapnap in the kitchen. “How was your break? Did you have a good time with your family?”

“I did.” Choosing not to elaborate, Sapnap returns the question, “What about you?”

“I celebrated the holidays with my family remotely,” George shrugs. “I turned on my camera, they made my face full-screen on a laptop, and they put me in the center of the flat so I could say hello to everyone.”

“So you stayed here?”

“Obviously.” With the same exasperated tone that Sapnap used toward Dream, George reminds him, “I didn’t want to infect anyone.”

“Oh.” Unable to hide his pity, Sapnap concedes awkwardly, “Right. That makes sense.” Changing the subject, he proposes, “Anyway, I’m too tired to cook tonight, and I haven’t gone shopping for myself yet anyway. Would you like me to order something?”

“For us?” George’s eyebrows lift. Passing Sapnap, he sifts through the plastic bag of groceries, puts each item in its spot, and disinfects every handle with a wipe after he touches it. Sapnap suspects that he is stalling for time to consider the offer until the other man pauses to lean against the kitchen countertop. “Alright. I like that idea.”

That evening, Sapnap wants to order an extra-large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, bacon, salami, and extra cheese: a pizza that good people see when they enter the afterlife, and a pizza that could probably send people to the afterlife.

Then his shame resurfaces. It wins the fight.

Forcing himself to take inspiration from George - who cannot eat soy, nuts, dairy, shellfish, or meat due to his illness - Sapnap orders the delivery of two large salads. Both salads are huge piles of lettuce and spinach topped with chickpeas, dried cranberries, sunflower seeds, tomatoes, and olive oil dressing. Sapnap hates it, but his shame does not allow him to stop eating and order a pizza like he wanted instead.

George eats his dinner while locked away in his bedroom, but he and Sapnap carry a conversation through the closed door. Sapnap describes his trips on the airplane to and from his hometown while George describes his family’s holiday celebration that he attended through video call. The conversation, devoid of eye contact, is strangely domestic. Sapnap missed George while he was gone.

After dinner, the reunited roommates play a few rounds of chess together at the table in the unit’s main living area. George wins every round except for their last. He probably let the inexperienced player win that time, but Sapnap celebrated with a fist pump of victory anyway. Then the roommates say their goodnights and retire to their bedrooms for the rest of the evening.

The gift basket of soap sculptures still sits on the work desk in Sapnap’s bedroom. He never anticipated that soap would be a desirable gift, but the little scented animals are delightful.

The chocolate bar is still in the basket, too. Smooth chocolate with chopped hazelnuts? It looks delicious.

Eagerly grabbing the package, Sapnap prepares to tear it open before his shame rises from the depths again. Pinching the foil wrapper in his fingers, he purses his lips as the internal conflict decides for him. I shouldn’t eat it.

After a long consideration, Sapnap tosses the unopened chocolate bar under his bed frame and tries to forget about it.

The slow spiral into depression and self-loathing becomes a plummeting fall. Every morning, Sapnap hauls himself out of bed, dresses himself, and fails to ignore the growing piles of clothes on his bedroom floor. No matter how many times he reminds himself that his weight gain is only a side effect of his herpes medication, he feels sick whenever he discovers that another shirt no longer fits.

Ironically copying his roommate’s behavior, Sapnap rarely leaves the apartment unit anymore except to attend his lectures. Therefore, when a new notification appears on his smartphone, he dreads the message that the screen will read.

George: Groceries please
George: 2 bags
George: Thank you

Saving the work on his laptop, Sapnap stands and stretches. Simultaneously his smartphone buzzes a second time, notifying him that his bank account just received a deposit of $5.

Exiting his bedroom, Sapnap puts on his athletic shoes and grabs his key ring before approaching the apartment’s front door. Outside he performs his usual journey along the hallway, down the elevator, and across the central courtyard to the postage room.

Placing a hand upon the door handle, Sapnap inhales a deep breath. Self-conscious, he decides to enter as subtly as possible, so when he slips into the room, the receptionist nearly does not notice him.

Dream sits in his swiveling chair behind his desk. He wears a familiar, dark green button-up shirt: the same one that Sapnap complimented when they sat on the bench together in November.

Dark circles lay beneath bored teal eyes. Dream looks tired today, and when he notices the customer in his peripheral vision, his temper reaches its end.

“Deliveries are on the table,” he growls dismissively. “Just take your sh*t and go.” When his customer does not move, Dream looks away from the computer screen with visible agitation. However, when he recognizes the other man, his demeanor shifts from cold to excited. “Sap, hello!” Instantly his posture straightens and his teal eyes brighten. “You haven’t come in a while. It’s so good to see you! I love that shirt you’re wearing. How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine,” Sapnap lies. “Busy.” Before the receptionist can ask what is wrong, he explains, “I’m just here for groceries.” Looking away, he walks to the folding table where two plastic bags wait for pickup.

“Oh, okay.” Sensing his friend’s discomfort, Dream remains quiet, but when Sapnap is about to step through the doorway again, the receptionist blurts, “Wait!”

“Yeah?” Dreading another interaction where he might receive an unintentionally judgmental question about his health, Sapnap clenches his jaw.

“I know that I gave you those soap sculptures only two months ago, but I visited a bookstore last weekend and I saw something that - well, I hoped that it might help you, so I bought it.” Leaning down, Dream ducks his head under the reception desk. When he sits back up, he holds a book in his hands, tilting it upright so Sapnap can only see the back cover. “I remember you said you were big, and that seemed to bother you, so I thought this book might be good.”

Assuming that it is a weight loss guide or a diet book, Sapnap prepares to accept the gift with a fake smile of gratitude that will hide how much he hurts inside.

Then Dream flips the book around so its title is visible: “The Foundations of Body Confidence: How to Love Yourself Just the Way You Are”.

Sapnap stares with disbelief. His jaw slackens.

“To be fair, the chapters are kind of long.” Dream places the book upon his desk surface and slides it forward apprehensively. “So if you don’t like long chapters, I understand. I have the receipt, too, just in case you don’t want -”

“Dream.”

“What?” Afraid of rejection, Dream places a hand on the book as if to take it back. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Can I hug you?”

Dream’s shoulders tremble as he exhales with relief. His voice emerges as a soft, breathless whisper, “Yes, please.” Hurrying up from his chair, he skirts around the reception desk.

Placing the plastic bags of groceries upon the floor, Sapnap shoves himself forward. Dream meets him halfway. Sharp, warm breaths billow down shirt collars as they unite in an embrace. As two rib cages swell against each other, Sapnap’s head fills with white noise, and he notices that Dream’s heart beat is strangely fast, too.

When the men pull away from the hug, the receptionist smiles shyly. “Sapnap, you might not believe this, but trust me, you’re one of the most amazing guys in the world. Whenever you visit me here, you light up the whole room. You’re, like, ethereal, and I hope that someday you’ll love yourself as much as I -” Suddenly he falters, then he finishes hastily, “I mean, as much as you should.”

“Oh, wow, uh… thank you, Dream.” Shocked by the honesty of Dream’s confession, Sapnap blinks fast. “You’re a really sweet guy, too. It’s always cool to see you here, and I really appreciate that you care.” Stooping down, he hooks his fingers into the handles of the plastic bags and announces, “But anyway, there are some cold things in these bags, so I might need to bring them back to the apartment. I’ll take the book, too.”

“Alright.” Dream lifts the book off the reception desk and drops it into one of the plastic bags. Still beaming and flustered, he scurries back to his chair and sits down again. “Bye, Sapnap! Come back soon!”

“Thanks, Dream! I will!” Acknowledging the receptionist’s wave with a nod of appreciation, Sapnap exits the postage room and enters the courtyard. I should visit him more often.

Once he returns to the apartment unit, feeling much better than when he left, he places George’s groceries on the kitchen countertop and brings the book back to his bedroom. Closing the door behind himself, he pauses in the center of the room and runs his thumbs over the shiny cover. There’s so much crap everywhere already. He cannot believe how messy his room has become, but he still lacks the energy to organize it. Eventually he decides to simply store the book under his bed frame. However, when he lifts the edge of the bed sheet, he discovers something else: the chocolate bar. He forgot that he hid it down there two months ago.

Sapnap places the book upon the floor, but he does not stand again immediately. Instead he crouches and reaches for the chocolate bar… then he hesitates.

Shame bubbles up in his heart, sending toxic fumes traveling up his spine and into his thoughts. Tendrils of bitterness weave around his mind like invisible ivy, taunting him. This is so unfair, he wants to wail. It’s not even my fault!

This thought echoes in Sapnap’s head, causing him to freeze. Suddenly the swirling storm dissipates, leaving only that thought behind.

Crashing his bicycle. Contracting herpes. Gaining weight due to a prescription. None of those things were my fault.

Kneeling upon his bedroom floor, Sapnap turns his head to stare at the bottle of medication that lingers ominously upon his bedside table. Scrutinizing it, he can barely read the tiny letters on the label that lists the medication’s ingredients and side effects. Those pills were what stimulated Sapnap’s appetite and affected his metabolism. His weight does not indicate the quality of his character. He was not the only person to receive this prescription, either. There are probably thousands of people who are suffering silently from this same situation, just like him!

f*ck it. Abruptly cutting off his own thought process, Sapnap returns his gaze to the chocolate bar and snatches it off the floor. He wants it.

Shame does not win this time.

Tearing open the package, Sapnap unwraps the chocolate bar with hazelnuts. As he eats, he stares absently down at the floor, and at the cover of the book that Dream bought for him.

The Foundations of Body Confidence: How to Love Yourself Just the Way You Are

Sapnap does not love himself yet… but at least this chocolate bar is delicious.

One week later, Sapnap visits the postage room again in the early afternoon. For the first time, he is not here to retrieve a delivery for George. This time, he is only here to visit Dream. Surely the other man will be thrilled to receive a visitor during an otherwise uneventful shift.

Crossing the courtyard, Sapnap strides toward the postage room with potential conversation topics in mind. When he opens the door, he enters and prepares to greet his friend… until he sees a stranger sitting behind the reception desk.

Dream is not here.

The stranger is older than a university student. With a focused expression, they type on the keyboard, occasionally glancing up to check the computer screen. The ID card that dangles from their lanyard reads “supervisor”. When they notice the customer, they pause their typing and look up with raised eyebrows.

“Hello! Do you need something?”

“Uh, hi.” Sapnap shoves his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I don’t need to pick up anything.”

“Oh?” The supervisor tilts their head curiously. The postage room’s overhead light shines upon their gray hair. “Are you here to apply for a job? If so, you came at a perfect time. I’m trying to hire a new receptionist.”

“What happened to Dream?” Disappointment weighs heavy in Sapnap’s chest. Until this moment, he did not realize how excited he was to see his friend. “When did he leave?”

“Dream didn’t leave,” the supervisor clarifies. “I fired him four days ago.”

“What?”

“It was a necessary loss,” the supervisor states curtly, as if this solution were obvious. “If you visit the postage room often, then you must already know that Dream was completely unprofessional.”

Bewildered, Sapnap echoes, “Unprofessional?”

“He always seemed bored, he swore relentlessly, and he never cared about his work,” the supervisor explains. “Whenever I told him to be nicer to customers, he would just scoff and roll his eyes. On the day when I fired him, a customer scolded Dream for his disrespectful attitude - justifiably, in my opinion - and do you know what Dream said? Forgive my profanity, but he said, ‘Give me one good reason why I should care that you have a f*cking problem with me.’ Can you believe it?”

Actually, I can’t believe it. Sapnap doubts that he and the supervisor could possibly be referring to the same person. Sure, Dream was irritable when someone interrupted him, but otherwise he was a stellar employee!

“I didn’t think Dream was that bad,” Sapnap disagrees weakly. “One time he helped me to carry groceries to my apartment.”

“Uh huh, sure,” the supervisor scoffs sarcastically. “No offense, but even if you showed me video evidence of it, then I would say the video must be scripted and staged. I worked with Dream regularly, and there’s no way he would do anything like that. That man was like a bull in a pen, just waiting to trample on someone.”

This metaphor reminds Sapnap of tense holiday dinners with his family. The comparison reminds him of himself. Perhaps he and Dream were more similar than he realized… but that still does not explain why his mental image of the receptionist does not match the supervisor’s description. Nervously he suggests, “Maybe Dream was just - I don’t know - misunderstood?”

First the supervisor raises a dubious eyebrow, then they admit with a mildly amused smile, “Well, you caught me in a bit of a lie. To be honest, I’ve heard Dream being nice to one customer, but that’s only because he had a huge crush on them!”

“He had a -?” Baffled, Sapnap chokes, “Dream liked someone?”

“Yes, it was difficult for me to believe, too,” the supervisor chuckles. “Someone visited a week ago and Dream couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of his shift after they left!”

“Do you know who they were?” Heart pounding with mingled alarm and hope, Sapnap wonders if he wants to know the answer.

“It was some resident named ‘Snap’ or something.” Not caring enough to recall more details, the supervisor shrugs, “I don’t remember.”

Dazed, Sapnap sways upon his feet before he catches himself. The world seems to spin around him. Wracking his memories, he cannot remember a time when he visited and Dream appeared as indifferent as the supervisor described. Every time he entered the postage room, the lively receptionist always found a way to compliment him.

Sapnap never considered Dream in a romantic way - at least, not consciously - but now he recognizes his own admiration of his friend. His feelings were more subtle, but perhaps he felt the same way.

“Why didn’t Dream confess?” We could’ve become more than friends.

“I don’t know. I’m sure that he was just worried about rejection or something, but whatever. I don’t care about drama like that. Relationships are overrated.”

Still breathless with shock and regret, Sapnap thanks the supervisor for their time and explanation. Empty-handed and empty-hearted, he travels back to his apartment unit. When he reaches his bedroom, he flops onto the bed and plunges his face into the pillow before he flips over to stare at the ceiling.

Those little gifts, the supportive compliments, and the eagerness to please: all of those were signs that Dream loved him… but now he is gone. Sapnap learned the truth too late. I can’t stop making mistakes. He resents his own obliviousness. I can’t stop being wrong about everything!

Surrendering to his devastation, Sapnap curls up on his side. He squeezes the blanket with his fists. His vision swims as tears prickle in his eyes. Sniffling pathetically, he weeps. If the receptionist saw him now, he would comfort him, hold him, and reassure him that everything will be okay. Sapnap misses him.

I missed my chance again. He took Dream’s presence at the postage room for granted. He could have visited the vibrant, lovestruck receptionist anytime!

Where is Dream now? Sapnap does not know. Maybe it would be unhealthy for him to wonder. Both of them are supposed to graduate from university this summer. Dream will probably move on, find someone new, fall in love with them, and forget about his seemingly unrequited crush. Sapnap will probably remember this for a long time, and he will wish that he had known the truth sooner… but perhaps this ending was inevitable.

Next Sapnap imagines what will happen beyond this summer. It feels like staring into a gloomy, abyssal void. The world will keep trudging onwards, life will keep changing without mercy, and he will keep missing his chances.

With less than one month remaining until graduation, George moves out early.

At sunset, while pink and orange hues paint the sky, Sapnap returns from his final lecture of the day. Absently unlocking the front door and pushing it open, he expects to see an empty kitchen or a chess board… but that is not what he discovers.

George is out of his bedroom. He sits in a chair beside the table in the unit’s main living area with his legs crossed and fingers intertwined. The table surface is empty except for a lukewarm cup of tea. He must have been waiting for his roommate to arrive because his head lifts when the other man enters.

Sapnap opens his mouth to greet him, but then he falters. The word “hello” sticks to his throat.

George wears his regular clothes… but his elbow-length rubber gloves and specialized gas mask are gone. The roommate’s entire face is unobstructed by a clear shield, an airtight tube, or a protective filter.

Gasping, Sapnap lifts his shirt collar to cover his nose and mouth, but George shakes his head.

“No, you don’t need to do that.” His voice is hoarse and raspy. Sipping from his cup of tea, he watches as Sapnap gazes around the unit. The space is messier than it was this morning when he left. Several cardboard boxes are stacked in the main living area between the couch and coffee table. George’s electric tea kettle has vanished from the kitchen, too. Witnessing Sapnap’s astonished gaze, he explains, “My doctors sent me some test results this morning. My infection isn’t as contagious as they thought, so you should be safe breathing the same air as me.”

“That’s good,” Sapnap stammers. Warily he lowers his shirt collar and approaches to sit in a chair across from his roommate. From this angle, he can see into George’s bedroom. Now its walls are blank, the bedsheets are gone, and the furniture has been re-arranged. “Why did you pack all of your stuff?”

George tugs on his jacket sleeves as he considers how to answer the question. His forearms are more slender than Sapnap anticipated; this observation unnerves him. Finally he begins, “Well, you might’ve noticed that I’ve lost a lot of weight in the last few months.”

“What do you mean?” Sapnap blinks. He did not notice that at all!

Unexpectedly George shuffles off his chair. His knees wobble as he stands and lifts the front of his shirt, revealing his bare torso.

Sapnap’s jaw drops.

The outlines of George’s rib cage and pelvis are clearly visible, and his belly is concave even when he inhales. Dropping his shirt to conceal himself again, he admits, “Yeah, I know. It looks bad, and unfortunately it is bad.” He sits down with an exhausted sigh. “As you know, I take lots of medications for my bacterial infection, the one that I’ve had for over two years.” After this sentence, George pauses to catch his breath before he continues, “Those test results showed that I’m not contagious, but they also showed that my immune system is - well, it isn’t winning the fight.”

“Oh.” Sapnap’s heart lurches. George looks more gaunt than he remembers. His dark brown hair has lost its sheen, his lips are cracked and lathered with lip balm, and his entire frame seems to quake whenever he moves. Sapnap wonders how he did not notice his roommate’s gradual spiral. Frightened, he whispers, “When you say you’re losing, what does that mean?”

“The bacteria mutated,” George reveals. “Now it’s resistant to all of my antibiotics. I’ve been getting weaker for a long time, so the results didn’t surprise me. Anyway, I’ll leave in a few minutes. Tonight a van will come to pick up my stuff - I gave them an extra key to this unit. Also, I emailed the university administration. They’ll send my degree and diploma to my parents’ house back in the UK so I won’t need to attend the graduation ceremony in June.”

“You won’t attend your own graduation?”

“My doctors said that I need to start a more aggressive treatment plan. I can’t keep quarantining myself and taking medication that doesn’t even work anymore.”

“How long will the treatment take?”

“I don’t know.” George’s expression darkens with uncertainty. “But I wanted to tell you about it before I left because my doctors aren’t sure if the new treatment plan will work, even if I stay at the hospital.”

“What will happen if the treatment doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll die and be cremated.” George resolves, alarmingly nonchalant. “Whether I live or not, I’ll be a university graduate.” Strangely amused by his roommate’s horrified reaction, he reasons, “Listen, Sapnap, if I didn’t get the treatment, then I would definitely die. At least if I start it now, I’ll have a chance!”

He’ll have a chance. Sapnap does not want his roommate to miss this chance.

Standing from his chair again, George clears his throat. Sapnap stands with him. He steps toward George, unsure if requesting a hug would be appropriate.

“No hugs,” the other man shakes his head, answering the unspoken question. “I still can’t do physical contact.” Despite his fragility, George’s deep umber eyes sparkle with warmth. “But you were a good friend to me, Sapnap.”

Hearing his roommate’s gratitude, Sapnap suddenly crumples like a fallen leaf. Flooded with guilt, he begins to shake. More tears prickle in his eyes. “No, I wasn’t.” His throat feels dry. His lungs constrict. “I yelled at you and ignored you and thought you were annoying. I wasn’t a good friend.”

George does not contradict him, but the light in his eyes does not dull. “Yeah, but you didn’t move out after I told you about my infection. You were mad, but you didn’t leave. I appreciated that. I was afraid that I would be stuck here alone for the entire year!”

Despite Sapnap’s immense relief at this reassurance, he begins to cry harder until sobs shake his body and tears stream down his cheeks. “Why do bad things happen to good people? Are we even good people at all?”

“We’re good people,” George promises solemnly. “And I promise that if this treatment works, I’ll find you again after it’s done. I want you to promise something, too.”

“What?” Sapnap sniffles.

“You’re strong now, but you need to promise that you’ll become stronger. If I find you again and you still hate yourself, then I’ll be mad.”

“Okay.” Still trembling, Sapnap nods. “I promise I’ll try to become stronger.”

“Great.” Patiently George waits for his roommate to wipe tears off his face, and he encourages him to drink water from the sink before they reunite near the front door. Glowing with empathy even though it is his own life in danger, George suggests, “Let’s just say ‘see you later’. ‘Later’ can mean any time: it could be in a few months, it could be next year, or it could be in the afterlife. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even be reincarnated into a cat, like a lynx! Lynxes are pretty cool.”

“Alright.” Sapnap swallows thickly, touched by how much his roommate cares. “I’ll see you later, George.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Grabbing the door handle with one bare hand, George rubs the cool metal with his fingers before he turns it. He raises his other hand for a light-hearted salute, then he steps through the front doorway. Looking in both directions down the hallway, George slips out and looks back. “Good luck, Sapnap.”

“You don’t want me to walk you to the van?” Sapnap searches for an excuse to spend another precious few minutes with his friend.

“Listen, Sapnap, I don’t have time for this ridiculousness,” George teases playfully. “So I’ll make the goodbye easy by saying no. You stay here.”

“Right. Yeah.” Sapnap laughs despite the tears in his eyes. “The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back, right?”

“Exactly.” With a wry smirk, George boasts, “And like I said, if I survive the treatment, then I’ll come back and tell you. I’ll make out with your Mum and Dad first, though.”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Remaining in the front doorway, Sapnap rolls his eyes. He reflects on how much courage George must possess to make jokes even as his existence might be nearing its end. Waving to his former roommate as the other man turns away, he calls, “Goodbye, George!”

“Goodbye, Sapnap!” At his unsteady pace, George reaches the end of the hallway almost one minute after leaving his former roommate’s side. It is both the shortest and longest minute that either man can remember. Then George pushes open the door, he steps into the fresh air outside, and he disappears from view.

Please don’t let this be the last time that I see him. After Sapnap recedes into the apartment, he walks to the window and peers out to see if George is visible in the parking lot. He does not see him.

“It’s okay,” Sapnap whispers to himself. “He’ll be okay. We’re okay.” He hopes that he said everything that he needed to say. Even if he forgot something, he is sure that George would understand.

Experiencing a wave of nostalgia for their experiences as roommates, from playing chess to fetching groceries, Sapnap wonders how he will continue onward. Eventually everything will be okay… right? Dream would forgive him for not visiting more often. George would forgive him for his attitude. Maybe Sapnap will forgive himself someday, too. Someday life will be better… but how far away is that someday?

Weeks pass. Sapnap loses track of time until the day of his graduation in June. Accompanying the rest of his classmates, he participates in the ceremony. He claps for students who he recognizes. Dream does not walk onstage, so the former receptionist must be scheduled to graduate on a different day.

Once the ceremony ends, Sapnap tosses his mortarboard hat into the air, he forces smiles for pictures, he shows his framed diploma to his family, he describes post-graduation plans until his throat hurts from talking, and he tries to feel proud of himself. However, even when his family and friends surround him, congratulating him and telling him how bright his future will be, he fails to believe them. Sapnap is unwilling to confess that he has never felt more alone.

Biking on icy streets is unsafe, so Sapnap sells his bicycle only one week after starting classes at his new graduate school in Maine. Whereas October is a hot month in Florida, it is a snowy month here in the northeastern United States. To protect himself from the relentless cold, Sapnap uses the money from his bicycle to buy a thicker coat than the pathetic one that he brought with him.

Besides a switch in location, another change accompanied Sapnap’s ascendance into graduate school. On his first day, he joined three new roommates who are all studying business like him. Together they share a living area, a kitchen, a restroom, and a bedroom with two bunk beds and four desks. When Sapnap moved in, he took the only unclaimed desk in the bedroom: the one closest to the door. To his dismay, his three roommates have lived here for one year already, so they were already friends before he arrived. During the first week of graduate school, Sapnap invites them to attend university-hosted parties and events for the new students, but they decline.

“Thanks, but we went to that party last year.”

“The university parties suck. Local gigs are way more fun.”

“Yeah. If there’s no free tequila, then I’m not going.”

All three roommates generate excuses for why accompanying Sapnap would waste their time.

Finally, on Friday of Sapnap’s first week, he learns that he is also the only roommate who is single.

“Hey, Sapnap?” Approaching Sapnap’s work desk in their bedroom, one roommate shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah?” Closing his laptop, Sapnap straightens his spine and looks back over his shoulder.

“The other guys and I wanted to talk with you,” the other man explains. His tone is hesitant, as if he expects that this discussion will offend the newcomer.

“Uh, okay. That’s fine.” Standing from his work desk, Sapnap follows his older roommate from their shared bedroom and into the main living area.

Outside, falling snow allows only a gray, muted light to seep into the apartment through its glass windows. Beside the front door, several more coats than usual hang upon the rack. Below them, seven pairs of boots, not four, line the floor.

Sapnap’s two other roommates sit casually upon a large cough with gruff expressions and crossed arms. Two women sit between them with impassive anticipation. One other woman sits apart from the others, upon a bean bag in the corner of the room.

“Oh, hello!” Sapnap greets the strangers.

“These are our girlfriends: Camila, Ivy, and Katherine.” The first roommate introduces each woman. As he gestures to them with an upturned palm, the girlfriends offer small waves and polite smiles that are definitely exaggerated.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Sapnap responds with an equally polite nod. Before he can ask why everyone seems so uncomfortable, his roommate asks,

“Sapnap, are you together with someone, too?”

“Me?” Surprised, he answers honestly, “No, I’m single, but I mean, if I meet someone cool, then maybe I’ll get together with them.” His response is less confident than the one that he gave to George when his former roommate confronted him about the same topic. Sapnap barely recognizes who he is now… or maybe his past self is the one who is unrecognizable.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that you’re still solo,” the roommate apologizes. “But if you find someone, then we can have this same discussion again when that happens.”

“What discussion are we having?” Still puzzled, Sapnap assesses the clustered group again. None of the girlfriends maintain eye contact with him for longer than a moment when he looks at them. His other two roommates appear haughty and withdrawn rather than sympathetic.

“Since all of our relationships are kind of serious already, sometimes we would like the chance to have some private time here in the apartment.”

“Oh.” Suddenly Sapnap understands. They want to know if he will surrender his claim to the bedroom whenever one or more couples want to have sex. Bitter jealousy taints his mood, yet he is unwilling to cause a conflict so soon after moving in, so he shrugs with forced nonchalance instead. “That’s fine. If someone wants to use the bedroom, then I can probably just go to the library or the gym or something.”

“Awesome.” The first roommate relaxes with relief. “Thanks, Sapnap. I knew we could rely on you.”

Predictably, once Sapnap promises that he will tolerate sexual activities in their shared bedroom, the roommates request for him to give them some “private time” for the next three hours… starting now.

Unsurprised, Sapnap agrees to shove his belongings into his backpack and spend some time outside. Three hours, he muses to himself as he dumps his smartphone and wallet into his pockets. As if these guys can even last longer than 30 seconds in bed. Donning his new, thick coat, Sapnap slings his backpack over his shoulder and surrenders the apartment to his roommates and their girlfriends. Of course I’m the only guy who’s not invited to the six-person orgy or whatever they’re doing. Sapnap decides that someday he will get the hottest girlfriend ever just to dunk on them.

Exiting the apartment complex, he narrows his eyes when a gust of frosty air blasts his face. He hugs the fabric of his coat closer to himself, grumbling irritably when he nearly slips upon the thin layer of ice that covers the sidewalk.

Sapnap’s breaths billow into the air before him. His nose numbs. Powdery snow blankets the ground between the sidewalks. Around him, other students wander and chat, seeming unbothered by the chilly weather.

Deciding that he can use this opportunity to explore the graduate school’s campus, Sapnap shifts his direction to approach the clusters of brick buildings in the distance. Like Florida, Maine’s terrain is covered with trees. Unlike Florida, the horizon is mountainous and shrouded with fog. Everything about his new home is unfamiliar, but Sapnap hopes that this change was exactly what he needed.

Then a soft voice distracts his attention. “Excuse me?”

Sapnap pauses. He looks back over one shoulder.

A fellow graduate student, a young woman, hurries toward him across the slippery sidewalk with a timid expression. “Do you know the campus layout?” Reaching into one of her jacket pockets, she pulls out a paper map with wrinkled edges. “I have a meeting in an hour, but I don’t know where the right building is!”

“I wish I could help, but I’m new here, too,” Sapnap admits apologetically. “Right now I’m just exploring.”

Undeterred, the woman suggests, “Then maybe we can look around together? You can explore and I can find my building.”

“Sure.” Sapnap shrugs. “Why not?”

Together the newly-introduced pair begins their search. By the end of the three hours that Sapnap agreed to be away from the apartment, he explored the campus and received a piece of paper from his new friend. On that piece of paper is the woman’s name, Cindy, along with her phone number and a small drawing of a heart.

For two weeks after their first interaction, Sapnap and Cindy meet often. They sit side-by-side at their shared business lecture, typing notes on their laptops as their sleeves brush. Occasionally they pass paper notes, sending jokes and flirty comments to each other. Then Cindy asks Sapnap if he would like to meet outside class again. He agrees without hesitation.

Before their first date, Sapnap adjusts his appearance in the mirror. Dressed in a button-up shirt and his thick coat, he sprays cologne upon his neck and under his arms. It will be better this time, he promises to himself. Regardless his tension grows alongside his hope. A poisonous sludge seems to stew in his gut, taunting him. It whispers that he will be undesirable whether he reveals his STD or not.

Sapnap’s first date with Cindy begins similarly to his first date with Kylie almost one year ago. He drives to her apartment complex, he parks his car beside the concrete curb, and he waits for her arrival. Cindy dashes out several minutes later, wearing a fluffy jacket, makeup, and perfume. Once the pair exchange flustered compliments about how attractive each other looks, Sapnap drives them to the city. Together he and Cindy eat at a local restaurant, they explore a shopping mall, then he drives her back to her apartment complex and drops her off.

Throughout the next few dates, both Sapnap and Cindy are full of buzzing anticipation… but the exciting chemistry does not last for long. After two weeks of near-daily meetups, Cindy confronts him. Before he can drop her off at her apartment complex again, she turns her head to face the driver. “Sapnap, how long will this take?”

“What?” Sapnap turns off his engine. Fortunately there are no other cars beside the curb, so no impatient drivers will rush them.

“I mean, what’s going on here?” Without the car’s heater, Cindy’s breaths billow in the cold air. “We’re friends now, but there are more than just-friends feelings under the surface… I think. Am I reading this right? If I’m wrong, then you can tell me.”

Simultaneously flattered and overwhelmed with dread, Sapnap stalls by drumming his fingers upon the steering wheel. His shirt collar feels too tight. Unsure whether he is lying or telling the truth, he responds, “Cindy, I’m glad we’re having this conversation.” He swallows, intertwining his fingers to hide how they tremble. “I guess I was wondering about that, too. I mean, I would love to go beyond friendship and do more, but before that, I guess there’s just -” Suddenly he falters. A storm cloud seems to hover inside the car, invisible and intangible, yet distinctly present, engulfing his thoughts.

Sensing her friend’s hesitation, Cindy nods encouragingly. Her hopeful smile hurts Sapnap’s heart, so he looks away.

“Listen, Cindy, I think that everyone has parts of themselves that they can’t change, if that makes sense. We all have parts that we don’t like, but they’re parts that we need to accept anyway because they’re parts of us.”

“Parts like what?” Her innocent question sounds shrill, echoing harshly in his ears. Then, before Sapnap can clarify what he means, Cindy blurts, “Wait, hold on. Is this about your -?” With an upturned palm, she gestures down toward his body. Without completing her question, she assures, “Because if it’s about size, I don’t mind. Size doesn’t affect anyone’s worth!”

Cindy’s supportive attitude does not diminish the storm cloud. Instead it expands, heaving against Sapnap like a rolling wave, dragging him into its depths.

“Cindy, I appreciate that,” he stammers. “But I’m not talking about size. I’m talking about something else. I have herpes.”

Visible only in his peripheral vision, Cindy’s eyes widen. She says nothing.

“I take an antiviral medication, but technically I’m still contagious.” When Sapnap forces himself to look at her again, his lungs tighten with resignation. “So I can’t kiss or have sex or anything like that.”

“Oh.” Cindy’s response is breathy: wavering. She searches his gaze, and finds only blunt honesty. “I’m sorry to hear about that.”

“Thanks.” Sapnap searches her gaze in return, and he finds discomfort.

“Sapnap, I’m glad that you told me about this. Your honesty means a lot.” Cindy’s fingers play with her purse’s zipper. She offers a polite smile to hide her revulsion. It reveals their relationship’s fate. “But maybe being more than friends wouldn’t work out. I don’t have herpes - there’s nothing wrong with having herpes, of course - but I hope you’ll understand why I don’t really want to risk -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sapnap spares her from the agonizing apology. “That’s fine. I wouldn’t want to cause problems for you.”

“Thank you,” Cindy sighs with relief. She unbuckles her seat belt and slings her purse over her shoulder. Sorrow dwells in her eyes as she looks away. “You’re a cool guy, and I wish you luck.” Opening the car’s passenger door, she hops onto the curb and closes the door behind herself. Still avoiding Sapnap’s gaze, she thanks him for taking her on their date.

Silently but mutually, the pair agrees that this date will be their last.

Sapnap waits for Cindy to leave before he slams his fist against the center of his steering wheel. The horn’s deafening honk shatters the quiet winter sky. Once its echoes fade, the driver feels weak again.

The next business lecture is awkward. Sapnap and Cindy sit side-by-side again, but this time they neither interact nor exchange paper notes. They type upon their laptops, sitting in solemn silence. During every lecture afterward, they sit on opposite sides of the room.

When Kylie rejected Sapnap because of his herpes, he was enraged, but Cindy’s gentle reaction hurt far more. Cindy was kind, polite, and sympathetic even when they discussed his size and his herpes, yet she did not want him. Is Sapnap doomed to repeat this fate? Will he only ever find people who tolerate all of his flaws and imperfections except for the one that he cannot change?

Alone and sullen, Sapnap drives back to his own apartment complex. Beneath glowing lamp posts, he parks his car in its usual spot and trudges across the lot toward the building. His boots crunch upon fallen snow. Exhaustion weighs heavy upon his shoulders. Resentment and self-hatred still stew within him, haunting his thoughts.

He wishes that he could have accused Cindy of prejudice… yet he would have made the same decision that she did. Why would he want to date someone who has an STD when he could probably find someone else who did not have one? Despite his disappointment, he must accept his losses and move on. There must be someone out there for me, he yearns to believe. Even if it takes time, I will find someone.

Unbeknownst to Sapnap, he has fulfilled his promise to George. Slowly he is becoming stronger.

Abruptly Sapnap notices that he is running out of his herpes medication. He will need a doctor’s permission to receive more, so he schedules an appointment. However, when he arrives at the nearby hospital and explains his reason for visiting, the doctor is reluctant to write the prescription.

“Are you sure that you want another set of refills for this medication in particular?” Adjusting their glasses, they glance between him and the bottle’s label.

“I’ve taken that medication since last year, so I guess so? Most of the side effects are gone.”

The doctor hums their acknowledgement, then they carry the nearly-empty prescription bottle to their workstation on the other side of the white-painted room.

Leaning back to rest his spine against the wall, Sapnap stares absently at the hospital room’s cabinets, human anatomy posters, and shiny metal sink. He waits for several minutes, listening to a clicking computer mouse before the doctor turns to look at him again.

“Alright, Mr. Houston, I know you said that you’ve taken this antiviral medication for a year, but our pharmacy might have an alternate prescription available for you. Would you be willing to try it?”

“Sure,” Sapnap shrugs. “What are the side effects of the new medication?”

“Well, I’m sure the pharmacist can explain them better than I can, but in our database, it looks like the most common side effects are dizziness, stomach pains, loss of appetite -”

“Wait,” Sapnap interrupts. Sitting up, he asks, “Is weight gain a side effect, too?”

“Let me see.” Scrolling down on their computer screen, the doctor searches briefly, then they read, “Weight gain isn’t listed here, but since this medication is rather new, it’s still possible that you might experience some changes in body size. Of course, if you notice anything unusual or dangerous, then definitely contact us again.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Nodding eagerly, Sapnap agrees, “I’ll switch to the new medication. I want to try it.”

When Sapnap leaves the hospital’s pharmacy, he carries a paper bag containing the last pills of his old medication and a full bottle of the new one.

Twelve days later, Sapnap consumes the last pill from his old prescription before he sleeps. For the first time, he feels triumphant when he gulps water and the medication reaches his stomach. Giddy with triumph, he peels the label off the old bottle, tears it into pieces, and recycles the unmarked orange plastic.

Unlike the first herpes medication that Sapnap tried, this new medication causes only one side effect. Far more subtle than the nausea, headaches, and fatigue, this medication causes a near-complete loss of appetite. Sapnap still eats whenever he feels hungry, but he just does not feel hungry. Each morning before classes, he eats a yogurt cup, a spoonful of granola with nuts, and a banana. Lunch - if he does not forget it - is either a protein bar or a strip of jerky. Dinners are bowls of cereal, cans of soup, or small plates of pasta. Sapnap eats only because he knows that he should, not because he feels hungry. Eventually he stops forgetting meals, yet even once the side effect ebbs, he still feels less hungry in general. His loss of appetite leads to a lack of energy, too, but that is not a problem when the weather outside is too cold and snowy to exercise outside anyway.

One night, Sapnap notices another change: the bunk bed frame does not creak anymore. Now its springs only squeak when his roommate slides onto the twin-size mattress above him.

Next, Sapnap discovers that his shirts are no longer skin-tight; they feel looser.

Less than two weeks before Sapnap is scheduled to fly back to his hometown for the holiday break, he visits the small gym on his graduate school’s campus. At the entrance, he shakes frost off his coat and scans his ID card. Stepping inside, he walks directly to the locker room and finds a scale waiting against a wall. Sapnap’s apprehension rises until he steps onto the platform.

Then the machine beeps. Its screen reveals his weight. Sapnap’s jaw drops with disbelief. He lost 10 kilograms.

“Holy sh*t.” Shocked, he steps off the scale, resets it, and weighs himself again. When the machine gives him the same number, he feels light-headed. I shouldn’t be surprised, he reasons to himself. He stopped taking a medication that caused weight gain, then he began a new medication that reduced his appetite, so he lost weight. It makes sense, but I still can’t believe it.

In late December, Sapnap joins his family for their first holiday dinner, and his relatives cannot believe the change, either. Between the moment when he weighed himself and the day when he flew back to his hometown, he visited the gym almost every day. He added whey protein powder to his diet and bought a yoga mat to exercise in his apartment. Now, as he greets his family in Florida again, he has lost a total of 18 kilograms. Initially he beams with pride in his leaner, more muscular appearance… yet his insecurities did not shrink along with his size.

Sapnap’s grandmother praises his weight loss: “Oh my goodness, Sapnap! You look amazing now!”

His aunts compliment him, too: “You look so much better! Healthier!”

His uncles add, “All of the ladies at your business school must be drooling over you!”

Even when Sapnap admits that he still has not found a girlfriend yet, someone teases that he is just acting humble because - supposedly - a handsome man like him probably attracts countless women. By the end of the dinner, Sapnap has received every conceivable compliment about his new, thinner build… or at least, they are supposed to be compliments. They sound like insults against his past self instead.

After Sapnap and his parents thank his relatives for visiting, each of them congratulate him for his weight loss one more time before they leave. Once Sapnap is alone with his parents, he feels sick. No one called him amazing or handsome last year, when he was 18 kilograms heavier. Those same people judged him and pitied him.

That night, Sapnap lays upon his back in bed, appreciating the warm air and the lack of snow outside. Unexpectedly he regrets switching to the new medication. At least when he was heavier, he knew instantly when someone perceived his size as unattractive. Now how am I supposed to know how people really feel about me?

Staring up at the ceiling, Sapnap remembers George. His former roommate was the only person who knew the entire truth. He pulls out his smartphone, squinting when white light pours over his face. He reviews the text messages that he and George exchanged in the months before the other man left. Lots of requests to pick up groceries, mail, and other deliveries. A few short conversations. Not much else. Sapnap misses him.

Then Dream appears in Sapnap’s thoughts. Like Sapnap’s family, the postage room’s vibrant receptionist called him amazing and handsome, too. Unlike Sapnap’s family, however, Dream showered compliments upon him regardless of how heavy, exhausted, or grumpy he looked. Sapnap misses him, too.

Back in Maine, Sapnap stops looking for a girlfriend without even realizing it. He receives more smiles and friendly remarks from strangers now, but the gestures feel empty. Loneliness joins his frustration; he wishes that he had a close confidante, someone reliable and trustworthy.

This time, Sapnap will find who he is searching for.

Sometimes reunions are planned. Other times, they occur due to random circ*mstances.

Two days after Sapnap’s roommates request another session of “private time” with their girlfriends, one of the girlfriends visits by herself. While Sapnap is alone in the apartment, she brings a batch of cookies specifically for him as a thank-you for his flexibility.

“Wow, thanks, Camila.” Standing in the front doorway, Sapnap is astonished.

“Of course,” she nods. Shifting upon her feet in the hallway, Camila explains, “Ivy, Katherine, and I live in apartments that don’t allow guests, so we really appreciate that you’re willing to give us time together with our boyfriends.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Sapnap shrugs casually. Glancing down at the plate of desserts in her hands, he asks, “What type of cookies are those?”

“Peanut butter. They’re vegan, too.” She looks up hopefully. “Are you vegan?”

“I’m not, but I had a close friend who was.”

“That’s cool,” Camila nods with understanding. “I became vegan for sustainability reasons, and at first it was difficult, but I found some blogs online that helped me. Do you read blogs?” When Sapnap shakes his head no, she continues, “Well, my favorite vegan blog is called ‘Living Our Dream Life’. You can read it, too, even if you aren’t vegan. It’s where I found the recipe for these cookies!”

“That sounds awesome.” Sapnap is not interested in this backstory, but he is unwilling to be rude since Camila baked cookies for him, so he lies, “I’ll definitely check it out.”

“Great!” Passing the plate of vegan peanut butter cookies to him, she leaves with a wave and a pleased smile. “Have a good day, Sapnap!”

“You, too, Camila!” Bringing the desserts inside, he closes the front door and places the plate of cookies upon the countertop. Begrudgingly Sapnap pinches one between his fingers and bites it. To his surprise, it is delicious… really delicious. He was never a fan of peanut butter cookies, but this is superior to almost any other dessert that he has tasted, vegan or not!

Maybe he actually did not lie to Camila. Eating a second cookie as soon as he finishes the first one, he decides that he must find the recipe so he can recreate the experience. Trying to remember the vegan blog that his visitor named, he finishes the second cookie and strides to his bedroom. Sitting down at his desk, he opens his laptop, types “Living Our Dream Life” into the search bar, and clicks on the top result.

First the website loads, then it appears on-screen. The header reads, “Living Our Dream Life: vegan recipes, crafts, and more! :)” Below that, several drop-down menus display links to recipes and sculpting tutorials. In the upper corner, there is a picture of the blog’s author standing in his kitchen, smiling and holding a cat against his chest.

At first, Sapnap does not process the image. He simply stares at it, blinks, and wonders why that person looks familiar.

Pale, freckled cheeks. Fluffy brown hair. Broad, bulky shoulders. A witty, earnest smile.

Dream.

I found him. Sapnap’s stomach flips. A sensation of falling overwhelms him. I found you.

Reeling with shock, Sapnap launches up from his chair. His knees slam the underside of his desk with an audible thud. “No way.” Muttering to himself, he rubs his face with his palms. “There’s no f*cking way.” Ears ringing, he waits for a moment before looking back at his laptop’s screen. The picture is still there; its bright teal eyes seem to gaze directly at him, challenging him to take a chance.

Sapnap did not even know that he wanted a second chance.

Racing back to his chair, he sits down and eagerly scours the website. Opening every drop-down menu, he finds more vegan recipes, more crafting guides… and an “About the Author” section. He opens it; his heart lurches when more pictures flood his screen. Hungrily he absorbs every image of Dream cooking, holding his cat, sculpting, wood-carving, and standing beside a woman -

Wait. Sapnap tenses.

He reaches a picture from the beach. Dream and a woman wear hats and sunglasses while the sun soaks their backs. They smile with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders.

No, no, no, please - Desperate without understanding why, Sapnap leans closer to his screen to scrutinize the picture. f*ck, Dream looks so happy with her. Dryness itches his throat. His heart races with an inexplicable fear until he reads the caption below the picture.

“Meet Gia: my best friend and practically my sister! <3”

Dream and the woman are not partners. They’re just friends. Releasing his breath in a hot exhale, Sapnap struggles to contain his adrenaline rush. They’re not dating. They’re just hanging out. With agonizing slowness, his panic eases. His shoulders and lungs relax. Feeling warmer than usual, he wonders if he will need the rest of the night to process that frightening five seconds of emotional turmoil.

After gulping cold water from the sink, Sapnap returns to his chair and scrolls down further on the “About the Author” web page. At the bottom, he discovers an empty text box with the header, “Have feedback or a business inquiry? Contact me here! :)”

For the third time in only ten minutes, Sapnap is floored. His underarms are damp. Staring at the empty text box, he clicks on it. A blinking line appears in its upper left corner, beckoning him to confess his thoughts.

“I’m okay,” Sapnap reminds himself. His fingers twitch restlessly as they hover above the keyboard. “It’s just Dream. He’s nice.” Once he types the first word, the rest follows easily.

“Hello Dream, this is Sapnap from last year! I just tried your peanut butter cookies and they’re super great! If you ever want to get in contact again, my phone number is (555) 8008135.” His fingers skitter over the keyboard, barely able to keep up with his thoughts. Swiftly he proofreads the message for any spelling or grammatical errors before he clicks “submit”.

“Oh my god.” Sapnap deflates immediately after sending the message. “I can’t believe I just -” Scrambling up from his chair, he closes his laptop and leaves his smartphone upon his work desk. I just need a minute. Walking away, he paces for several laps around the apartment unit. Insecurities weave through his thoughts, unwelcome yet seemingly impossible to defeat. Leaning forward, he grips the sink’s edge and sighs. Tendrils of doubt compromise his courage. Dream might be single, but that doesn’t mean he still has feelings for me. Maybe the former receptionist has already forgotten him?

Interrupting its owner’s spiral, a smartphone pings from the bedroom.

Instinctively Sapnap stops and turns to follow the noise. Upon his work desk, his smartphone is illuminated. Three notifications hover in the center of the screen.

Missed call from [unknown number]
Missed call from [unknown number]
Missed call from [unknown number]

“sh*t.”

Before today, Sapnap never answered calls from unfamiliar numbers. This time, however, he dives for the smartphone, unlocks it, and calls the number back without hesitation. Breathlessly he waits, shivering with anticipation before the recipient answers.

“Hello?”

Sapnap recognizes that voice. His knees weaken until he collapses into his chair. “Dream?”

“Sapnap!” An awestruck gasp, then a gushing flood. “How are you? Have you been alright? I hope you’ve been doing well. I missed you so much! Did you like the soap sculptures?”

“I’m doing great, thanks.” With a gentle smile of amusem*nt, Sapnap answers, “I’ve used a few of your soap sculptures already. Right now I’m halfway through the one shaped like a shark.” He sniffs one wrist, inhaling the scent of tea. “How about you, Dream?”

“That’s awesome. I’m doing so, so awesome, Sapnap. You have no idea.” Dream’s voice is warm with sincerity. “My blog has almost 100,000 monthly visitors. It became popular much faster than I expected, and I’ve received so much positive feedback from my readers!”

“Dream, that’s super cool and I’m really proud of you, but I was actually curious about that. I sent that message, like, three minutes ago! Do you just spend hours refreshing your inbox or something?”

“I have my notifications on,” Dream defends. “So my phone vibrated to let me know that someone sent a message.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” While he saves Dream’s number as a new contact in his smartphone, Sapnap muses, “You know, I’m happy that you’re responding to me, but I’m a little surprised, too. I don’t think I was exactly cuddly when I visited you at the postage room.”

“Whatever,” Dream dismisses nonchalantly. “I’ve seen plenty of sh*t in my life. I mean, I think it’s kind of funny that you were just barely containing your angst with me. Maybe I’m just a - what’s that word for it?” He snaps his fingers, trying to think of the term until he blurts, “A misogynist!”

“You mean a masoch*st?”

Ignoring Sapnap’s dry tone, Dream affirms with bright excitement, “Yes, that’s it! Maybe I’m just a masoch*st, but all of your attitude and crap didn’t bother me at all. No need to apologize.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to hear that.” Relieved by the receptionist’s reassurance, Sapnap sighs quietly to himself. His skin tingles, and he feels like he cannot get enough oxygen as he stares across the bedroom.

For almost thirty seconds, neither man speaks until the former receptionist asks curiously, “What’s that sound?”

“Huh?”

“There’s a humming in the background,” Dream clarifies. “Is it a fan?”

Listening, Sapnap realizes what he means. “No, it’s the heater.”

“A heater? In Florida?”

“I’m not in Florida anymore,” Sapnap explains. “I’m in Maine for graduate school.”

“Maine?” Dream’s voice pitches with astonishment.

“Yeah, in Caribou. Do you know where that city is?”

“Uh…” There is a pause, then a series of clicks and taps of keys on a keyboard as Dream searches for the city on a digital map. “Here it is! Wow, that’s so far north! Why are you there?”

“I’m studying for a master’s degree in business.”

“Wow, really? That’s incredible!” Dream glows with pride in his friend. “To be fair, I run a blog, so I’m pretty busy, but I can’t imagine how busy you must be!”

“I mean, I’m not too busy,” Sapnap admits sheepishly. Glancing out the bedroom window into the snowy night outside, he adds, “Plus, the weather is freezing up here. Classes are online for half of the time anyway. No one wants to go outside anymore after the first two weeks of snow.”

“Does that mean you won’t be busy this weekend?”

“No, I’ll be free.” Assuming this is Dream’s way of scheduling another conversation, Sapnap decides, “We can talk more then, if you want.”

“Really? That would be great!” Another series of tapping keys and a clicking mouse accompany Dream’s enthusiastic agreement.

Sapnap sinks back into his chair, closing his eyes and listening to the comforting sounds. After another twenty seconds, Dream discovers that the call has fallen silent again. Hesitantly he asks, “Sapnap, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“I just wanted to say, I’m happy that you messaged me. You know, whenever you visited, you always made me feel so -” Abruptly Dream falters. He trails off. “I mean, sorry. I’m just -”

“It’s alright,” Sapnap coaxes. He is curious to learn how he makes the other man feel. Words from the reception desk’s supervisor echo in his mind: “Someone visited a week ago and Dream couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of his shift after they left!” Hoping that they will have another chance to discuss it, he suggests, “You know what? This conversation was kind of a surprise to both of us, so how about we take some time to think and talk again this weekend?”

“Sure.” Dream sounds distracted when he confirms, “I’ll call you this weekend.”

“Awesome. Take care, Dream!”

“Goodbye, Sapnap.”

Thirty seconds after Sapnap’s final roommate leaves for work on Saturday, he calls Dream. Ironically, even after a full day, both men are still too shy to turn on their facecams. This does not bother them, however; instead they appreciate the lack of pressure to hold their phones near their faces while they talk. Sapnap is glad that he can listen to Dream’s stories while cleaning and cooking. He can simply relax without worrying about Dream seeing him, analyzing him, or judging him.

A lack of eye contact emboldens Sapnap, too. Unlike his visits to the postage room, during which he avoided excessive conversation with the receptionist, he feels more comfortable sharing information about himself and his past. Dream listens avidly, offering occasional comments as Sapnap tells stories from his childhood, his university experience, and his daily life at the graduate school.

Hours pass like minutes. Sapnap flinches with surprise when one of his roommates returns from his work shift. For the first time since he began his call with Dream, Sapnap checks the clock. Shocked, he discovers that almost five hours have passed. When his roommate enters the main living area, they make startled eye contact right as Dream is in the middle of a story.

“- and my mom’s friend was like, ‘wow, Dream, are you really eating another slice of pie?’ And she was having some marriage problems at the time, so I said, ‘wow, are you really getting another divorce?’ And oh man, let me tell you, my mom and her friend did not appreciate that -”

“Hey, uh, Dream?” Scrambling off the couch to hide in his bedroom, Sapnap interrupts him. “Sorry to cut you off, but one of my roommates just came home. Can I call you back later?”

“Oh yeah, of course!” Unbothered, Dream affirms, “You can call me anytime!”

“Good to know, thanks.” Swiftly hanging up and hooking his smartphone to its charger cord, Sapnap concludes the conversation before his roommate enters the bedroom to change out of his work uniform. His smartphone’s screen displays their call’s total time: 5 hours, 34 minutes, 27 seconds. How did time pass so quickly? Astonished, Sapnap realizes that if his roommate had not come home, he would have been fine with the call continuing for even longer than it already did.

Without even discussing it, Sapnap and Dream reach a mutual agreement that they will call at least once per week. No matter how busy they are with running a blog or attending business lectures, Sapnap and Dream always find free time to hang out over the phone. By the end of January, the pair have fully regrown the friendship that they created over one year ago.

Now, however, there is tension. A storm cloud gathers in Sapnap’s chest again, even more noxious and overwhelming than ever. Even after over 24 hours total of talking with Dream, he has conveniently avoided mentioning the medical condition that haunts him.

Whenever Sapnap speaks with Dream, his heart flutters. He imagines the other man’s bright teal eyes, curly brown hair, and towering height.

Last year, Dream wanted to be more than friends. Now Sapnap fears it may be too late for him to want that, too.

As a child, Sapnap enjoyed Valentine’s Day. Every February 14th, his parents allowed him to stay home alone, watch whatever movies he wanted, and eat whatever he wanted for dinner so they could attend a romantic date at a fancy restaurant.

As a teenager, Sapnap detested Valentine’s Day. According to his cynical opinion, no one is truly happy on February 14th. People are disappointed by lackluster gifts, by their partners forgetting the holiday, or by their lack of any partner at all.

As an adult, Sapnap ignores Valentine’s Day because it reminds him that he is single on a holiday meant to celebrate undying love.

This year, Sapnap is unsure how he feels. On February 7th, he drafts a message on his smartphone. First it is a sentence, then it expands to a paragraph, then it shrinks to a sentence again: “Hey Dream, would you like to visit me in Maine for Valentine’s Day?”

He selects the text, copies it, then pastes it in his chat with Dream. His thumb hovers above the “send” button, but it never presses. Before he can muster the courage to invite his friend to transcend the boundary from friends to more-than-friends, he considers every reason that he should not send this message. Maybe Sapnap will be busy on February 14th, or maybe Dream will be busy. Maybe Dream, a Florida man, would be too cold in Maine. Maybe bringing a visitor would annoy Sapnap’s roommates. Maybe traveling on that weekend would be too expensive, or even too dangerous if a blizzard strikes.

There are so many reasons why inviting Dream would lead to trouble, and there is only one reason to invite him. Despite not seeing Dream in almost one year, Sapnap has developed feelings for him. What should he fear? Dream may be single, but that does not necessarily indicate that he still harbors feelings for Sapnap!

Spending Valentine’s Day alone is the safest decision. Dream is the close confidante who Sapnap needs, and he cannot risk losing him this time.

With a thick, choking sensation in his throat, Sapnap deletes the message.

A massive blizzard struck the northeastern United States on February 12th, scheduled to last until the 15th. Flying from Florida to Maine would be perilous in this terrible weather, so Sapnap’s decision to remain alone on Valentine’s Day is justified. Regardless, he is disappointed and resentful, especially since Dream has not responded to any of his text messages in almost 40 hours.

Even worse, Sapnap is the only roommate who will be alone for the holiday. On Valentine’s Day afternoon, Sapnap resides upon the couch in the apartment’s main living area. He scrolls through social media on his smartphone, but when the bedroom door opens out of his view, he raises his eyes.

“Alright, boys, let’s move out!” The three roommates exit their bedroom, dressed in identical black suits with white collared shirts underneath. Beanies conceal their hair as they file toward the front door to don their coats. “We don’t want to keep the girls waiting.”

Although Sapnap has the distinct sense that the roommates did not intend to include him, he turns off his smartphone and stands from the couch anyway. “Where are we going?”

The three men pause, turning to stare at Sapnap with surprise as if they did not realize he was there.

“Oh, hey, Sapnap.” The lead roommate, the one who usually handles the talking in uncomfortable situations, addresses him with a forced smile. “Sorry, we didn’t know you were still here.”

“Where else would I be?” Sapnap shrugs. Deciding to feign ignorance, he continues, “And I didn’t realize we would need fancy clothes, but wait here. I have a nice button-up shirt that I can wear.” Slipping past the three men to approach the bedroom, he repeats, “Where are we going?”

“Well, actually…” Embarrassed, the lead roommate scratches the back of his neck. The other two roommates look away, pretending to be unaware of the tension. “You won’t need to change your clothes.”

“Why not?” Now standing in the bedroom doorway, Sapnap tilts his head, unwilling to accept defeat. His ship might be sinking, but it still has plenty of cannonballs onboard, ready to be fired. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the atmosphere by wearing the wrong outfit.”

“That’s not the problem,” his roommate explains, playing with his cufflinks. “It’s because we’re taking our girlfriends to a restaurant for Valentine’s Day.”

“So you have reservations already?” Sapnap guesses.

“Yeah, we reserved a table for our girlfriends and us. It was one of those deals where couples eat for free. If we buy drinks, we still have to pay for those, but our reservations are for six people only, not seven.” Hastily the roommate adds, “We don’t mean to exclude you, of course, but like I said, we made reservations already, and you wouldn’t qualify as a couple by yourself -”

Wow, thanks for reminding me about all of the sex that I’m not having, Sapnap thinks sarcastically. He replies, “Oh. Okay.” He wonders if the roommates know that he actually has no interest in accompanying them and their girlfriends. He just wants them to feel a shame that will ruin their evening. “I guess I can just stay here to guard the apartment, then?” Sapnap raises expectant eyebrows.

“Yeah, that would be great.” Deflating with relief, his roommate nods. “Thanks, Sapnap. We appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Hiding his smugness behind a falsely innocent expression, Sapnap waves, “Have fun!”

After the suited roommates’ departure, the unit falls silent. Sapnap sighs. Attempting to ruin his roommates’ evening was immature and unnecessary, but he is too miserable to care. Sullen and lonely, he lingers in the middle of his unit, glowering at the floor. The silence around him is suffocating.

Sapnap wishes that Dream were here. His cheerful, vibrant friend would reassure him that everything will be okay. If Sapnap could go anywhere in the world, he would want to be by Dream’s side. Dream would wrap bulky arms around his shoulders, hold him close, and promise to never let go. His gentle, encouraging whispers would calm the storm within Sapnap until he could finally forget about his regrets, his fears, his herpes -

Without even thinking, Sapnap pulls his smartphone from his pocket and texts Dream: hey are you there?

Seconds pass like hours while he waits for a response. The last time that Dream answered a message was over 39 hours ago. Of course, Dream is not obligated to spend every moment of the day staring at his inbox, but this lack of responsiveness is unusual.

Stressed, Sapnap turns off his smartphone. Leaving the device on his work desk, he steps into the restroom, closes the door behind himself, and turns on the shower. The overhead fan shudders to life when he flicks the lightswitch; chilly hair blasts bare skin as Sapnap removes his clothing and waits impatiently for the water to heat. Once hot steam billows from the shower head, he tries to relax.

“Okay. It’s okay.” Entering the shower, Sapnap hides behind a cheap white curtain. Warm water rinses sweat from his skin, soaks his hair, and eases the aches in his muscles. However, Sapnap showers for less time than usual. Still hopeful that Dream is safe, he does not want to take too long in case the other man responds to his message.

After only five minutes, Sapnap turns off the shower water. He steps onto the bath mat and dries himself with a fluffy white towel. Wrapping it around himself, he unlocks the restroom door and carries his dirty clothes to his half-full laundry basket. When he enters the bedroom, he discovers that his smartphone’s screen is illuminated.

Almost 20 minutes after Sapnap sent his message, three dots appear at the bottom of the text conversation with Dream. Suddenly full of adrenaline, he sits down in his chair and awaits the response.

Dream: CALL ME

Ignoring the water that drips from his hair down his back, Sapnap obeys. Eagerly he calls Dream’s number, presses his smartphone against his ear, hunches forward in his chair, and squeezes his eyes closed to listen as the line picks up. A tense shiver travels up his spine. Still unsure about why Dream took so much longer than usual to respond, he rasps, “Hello?”

What if he’s upset? What if he stopped texting back because he moved on? What if he thinks I’m clingy and annoying and -?

“Hi, Sapnap!” Contrasting sharply against the caller’s expectations, Dream’s greeting is breathless with excitement. “Sorry I haven’t replied to you in a while. My cell service has been sh*tty for the whole day, so I just got all of your messages right now.”

“Oh.” The worry melts from Sapnap’s mind. Dream is not mad. He sounds happy! Suddenly feeling like he is floating, Sapnap dismisses, “That’s okay. No problem.”

“Do you wanna know where I am?”

“Uh, sure.” Dream does not answer, so Sapnap takes his cue to prompt, “Where are you?”

“No, you need to guess. Here’s a clue: I’m wearing the thickest turtleneck sweater from my closet right now, and it’s still not enough. I started shivering as soon as I went outside. Holy sh*t, it’s so cold here! How the hell do you live like this?”

“Wait.” Glancing at the blizzard beyond his bedroom window, Sapnap tightens his grip on his smartphone. “Dream, are you -? No, there’s no way. That’s not possible. You’re not here, are you?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Dream teases. “Where is ‘here’?”

“Maine. You’re in Maine.” Sapnap’s tone is flat with disbelief. Are his thoughts frozen, or are they traveling too fast for him to process?

Hearing Sapnap’s astonishment, Dream affirms, “You bet I’m in Maine! Caribou, Maine, to be exact!”

“How? There haven’t been flights available for days!”

“But there are trains!” Dream reveals, “I flew from Florida to Virginia yesterday, then I took a train overnight from Virginia to Maine! Trains can handle snow much better than airplanes, you know. I just arrived, like, 30 minutes ago.”

Sapnap’s jaw slackens. A train would take much longer to cross the same distance as an airplane. Dream must’ve traveled for almost 24 hours… to see me. Sapnap never expected to encounter someone more impulsive than himself, but this discovery is like a breath of fresh air after months of drowning.

“Why?” His next question is faint. “Why did you come?”

“To surprise you for Valentine’s Day,” Dream answers plaintively, as if the explanation were obvious. “So… surprise! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Then, without waiting for a response, he admits sheepishly, “Also, I probably should’ve asked earlier if you have a car because I might need a ride from the train station.”

“You need a ride?” Immediately springing up from his chair, Sapnap launches into action. “Sure, yeah! Hold on, I’ll come get you.” Hurrying to prepare, he tosses his used towel onto the curtain rod in the restroom, he dresses in his warmest clothing, and he dumps his wallet into his pocket. “Which train station?”

“The one on Lilyollie Avenue.”

“Got it. I know where that is.” Heart pounding, Sapnap sets the call on speakerphone. After quickly brushing his hair, he dons his coat before he pauses to ask, “Didn’t you say that your turtleneck wasn’t warm enough?”

“Yeah, but I can buy a new one -”

“No, I have a spare coat. I’ll bring it for you.” Grabbing a second coat from his closet, Sapnap drapes the thick fabric over his forearm and jogs to the front door. He barely remembers to turn off the lights in the unit before he pulls open the door and dashes into the hallway.

Dream listens with quiet amusem*nt as he hears sprinting footsteps and heavy breathing through the call, but Sapnap is too distracted to realize it. He feels light-headed, full of energy while he runs outside to the parking lot where his car waits. Barely avoiding frozen puddles and crunchy snow upon the sidewalks, he reaches his vehicle and unlocks it. Hoping that the upholstery does not smell like mildew and that his spare coat does not smell like sweat, he pops a mint into his mouth and tosses the extra coat into the backseat.

“Dream, I’m gonna start driving, but I’ll meet you at the train station, okay?”

“No problem!”

After Sapnap hangs up, Dream’s presence seems to linger in the air beside him. He cannot believe this is happening. I’m going to see him, he realizes, both thrilled and terrified. Ironically, even after one year apart from the former receptionist, he still does not feel ready.

Retrieving an ice scraper, Sapnap leans across the windshield and wipes frost off the glass. Warm breaths billow in the freezing air. Under other circ*mstances, Sapnap would wait for the blizzard to end before he attempted to leave the apartment at all, but this situation is different. Dream traveled for hundreds of kilometers to see him, so he must repay the favor.

Despite the dashboard clock reading only 3:49pm, the overcast sky is so dark that Sapnap must turn on his headlights and fog lights to see while he drives. When his car exits the parking lot, its wheels leave deep tracks in the snow.

Few other people are driving in this weather, so most stop lights are green as Sapnap crosses the city. Down one nearly abandoned street, only half-visible through the haze of fluttering snowflakes, a winter service vehicle clears snow off the asphalt.

Navigating from memory, Sapnap reaches the train station on Mikollie Avenue along the outskirts of Caribou. Its parking lot is surprisingly full. Some cars are covered with ice, but others have not been here for long enough to accumulate more than a thin layer of snow on their roofs. Choosing an empty space, Sapnap parks and turns off his car. Once the engine falls silent, all he hears is the distant rumble of a train and his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Ironically he feels frozen, unable to leave the safety of his car to find his friend. Dream is an average guy, not a famous celebrity, yet Sapnap feels overwhelmed. Trembling with anticipation, he stares directly ahead through the windshield, into the unoccupied car parked across from him. Just calm down. He inhales a slow breath, but it shakes when he releases it. Hoping to gather enough courage to complete his mission, Sapnap whispers to himself, “I’ll just go inside, find him, say hi, and bring him back. That’s it. Nothing wild.”

Reaching backward, he grabs the spare coat from the backseat and slings it over one forearm. When he opens the driver-side door, his boots crunch upon hard ice. The time is barely past 4pm, but the blizzard has transformed an afternoon into nighttime. Within a few hours, the temperature will plunge dangerously low.

Crossing the parking lot to the train station, Sapnap texts Dream: where are you

Dream: inside

Sapnap: ok

Sapnap drops his smartphone back into his coat pocket as he climbs a ramp leading to the building’s ornately carved double doors. Glowing orange lamps illuminate abandoned sidewalks, reflecting off the snowy ground.

Inside, however, the building is remarkably crowded.

“Holy sh*t, it’s like the whole city’s here,” Sapnap mutters under his breath. When he slips through the main double doors, a gust of hot, stuffy air slams his face. The train station’s heaters must be on full blast. Not very energy-efficient. Allowing the door to close behind himself, he assesses the building’s interior.

A large main lobby, ticket booths along one wall, ATM machines, a row of benches along another wall, fake plants in vases, and several narrow hallways branching off from the main lobby. Soft conversations send a gentle hum through the room. Every bench is occupied as people wait, either for their own trains or for trains that will deliver their loved ones.

Lifting his smartphone, Sapnap texts, i’m standing near the main entrance

Almost immediately the response comes: on my way!

Shoving the device into his pocket again, Sapnap swallows apprehensively. Dream is somewhere in this building, coming to find him.

Folding the extra coat, he moves to stand beside a wall near the ticket booths, close to the main entrance. Gently he places the coat upon the floor so he can pull his own coat off to cool down. Slinging both coats over his forearm, he runs the fingers of his free hand through his hair to tidy it. Self-consciously he smooths wrinkles from his shirt and black fleece sweatpants before searching the lobby again.

Sapnap’s gaze darts between the hallways, wondering from which direction Dream will come. How can I feel so scared like this when I haven’t seen him in a year? Swallowing with anticipation, Sapnap tries to focus only upon watching the hallways, scanning the faces of every new person who enters the lobby -

A man, underdressed compared to the other passengers, steps into view from the building’s opposite side. Emerging from a hallway with a backpack slung over one shoulder, he walks with a determined stride across the tiled floor.

Even from across a crowded room, even after so many months of only hearing this man’s voice, Sapnap recognizes him.

Except for slightly longer hair, Dream looks exactly the same. Sharp eyes, a lithe build, freckled cheeks, light stubble, and soft lips. He wears a dark green turtleneck sweater, long black jeans, and a pair of tattered rain boots.

Sapnap’s breath hitches in his throat. Still standing relatively close to the main entrance, he fears that he will look creepy if he keeps staring, so he glances between the floor and Dream, waiting for the other man to spot him.

Approaching the same ornately-carved double doors that Sapnap walked through only minutes ago, Dream assesses the crowd. His intense gaze scans every face, clearly searching for someone.

Sapnap’s apprehension skyrockets as Dream crosses the lobby's halfway point. At exactly the right moment, their eyes meet. Piercing teal collides with bright hazel.

Then, just as quickly, Dream looks away… and continues past him. Without any second glance, shift of expression, or change of pace, Dream passes within two meters of Sapnap, then he pushes open the double doors and leaves.

While Dream slips outside into the evening, Sapnap stares at the doors with disbelief, gaping at nothing. What happened? He looked right at me and kept walking! Was that some sort of prank? Shocked and hurt, Sapnap approaches the carved doors and pushes one open to look outside.

Beyond the double doors, Dream steps cautiously down the ramp that leads to the parking lot. Wrapping arms around himself, he shivers and hunches his shoulders before pausing beside the curb. His head turns to the left, then forward, then to the right. Unaware of the man watching him from the doorway, Dream lingers beside the parking lot with an equally confused expression. His smartphone glints in the lamp light as Dream pulls it out, taps the screen a few times, then presses the device against one ear.

Sapnap’s smartphone begins to vibrate in this pocket, but he does not attempt to answer it. Clinging to the edge of the door, his fingers feel numb. From this short distance, only a few meters, he hears the call reach his voicemail.

“Hey, Sapnap?” Dream speaks into the microphone, leaving a message for his absent friend. “I know you said you were standing near the main entrance, but could you please be more specific? I didn't see you anywhere as I left, and there’s no one outside the train station. Can you please call me back? Thanks.” Then he hangs up, hugging himself tighter as his shivering worsens.

Sapnap steps outside, puts his own coat back on, and closes the door softly behind himself. Words seem to stick in his throat. Why didn’t he recognize me? I’m right here, exactly the same guy who he used to know -

Then he realizes the truth: Dream’s appearance has not changed much in one year, but Sapnap has lost over 20 kilograms since then. The former receptionist probably expected to see the same grumpy, exhausted, heavy man who visited him at the postage room. Dream complimented the visitor regardless of his size because he never cared about Sapnap’s appearance more than he cared about Sapnap’s well-being. Dream never gave Sapnap a book about dieting or weight loss; instead he gave him a book about body confidence and self-acceptance.

Dream's love for him was unconditional... and finally, Sapnap is ready to accept that he is in love, too.

Overcoming his fear, he steps down the slippery ramp to follow his friend. Skirting Dream’s side, Sapnap reaches to grab his elbow.

Startled, the other man flinches and spins around. Instinctively he jerks his arm away. Scowling at the unfamiliar man, Dream snarls with annoyance, “What the f*ck?” Then his jaw snaps shut. His eyes widen with recognition, disbelief, and joy. “Sapnap!”

“Hey, Dream,” Sapnap chuckles with amusem*nt. “How are you?”

“I’m… oh my god, I’m so good.” Dream stammers. “I didn’t even see you! Where were you?”

“I was -” Sapnap chooses not to reveal that the former receptionist actually passed him, so he answers, “I was looking for you.” Lifting the spare coat off his forearm, he offers, “Here, I brought this for you.”

“Thanks!” Eagerly grabbing the coat with one hand, Dream uses his other hand to pull his backpack off his shoulders.

“I’ll hold that for you,” Sapnap offers, extending his arms.

Flustered, Dream passes the backpack to him so he can wear the coat. Adjusting the collar of the coat around his neck and tugging on its sleeves, he spreads his arms. “How does it look?” Nervousness trembles in his voice.

“I love it.” Deciding that it is his turn to compliment Dream, Sapnap approves, “You look super handsome!”

Dream might as well have just heard that he won a million-dollar lottery. His lips part with shock. Freckled cheeks flush. Sapnap was not lying; he does look incredibly handsome.

“Really?” Dream’s response is breathless. His gaze darts down to view himself. Sweaty palms flatten the fabric of his coat. When his eyes snap up again, he plucks his backpack from Sapnap’s arms, slings its straps over both shoulders, and lunges forward for a tight hug.

Surprised, Sapnap gasps, but he wraps his arms around Dream’s broad shoulders to return the gesture with equal fervor. Two rib cages swell against each other, pressing together tightly. For several seconds, the men share this warm embrace, inhaling each other’s scents of sweat and upholstery. Sapnap would not trade it for anything else. When they pull away, their hands fall back down to their sides, but their heart beats continue to pound within their chests. Around them, life in the crowded train station progresses like normal, unaware of this moment’s significance.

“Dream, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” Dream’s eyes soften, then they brighten again with excitement. “Oh, and also!” Stepping back, he reaches behind himself to pull something out of his backpack’s compartment. Blindly he zips up the luggage, then he pulls his hands out to present a plastic bag.

Sapnap half-expects that there will be another stolen salad inside, but instead the gift is a small object: a soap sculpture shaped like a flower.

“I made this for you and brought it with me,” Dream explains, passing the plastic bag into Sapnap’s fingers. While his friend scrutinizes the sculpture, he elaborates, “It’s marshmallow-scented. There’s no marshmallow, of course, because marshmallows aren’t vegan. It just smells like a marshmallow, if that makes sense.”

Wordlessly Sapnap accepts the tiny gift. This new territory is treacherous, but it beckons him forward. I won't miss my chance this time. When his gaze lifts from the sculpture, his voice is surprisingly steady: “Follow me.” Slipping the flower into his pocket, he leads Dream off the curb into the parking lot.

Along the way to the car, Sapnap hears rustling behind himself, barely audible above the wind. He does not turn to look, but he guesses that Dream must be tidying his hair, adjusting his outfit, and popping a stick of gum into his mouth.

Pulling his car keys from his pocket, Sapnap unlocks the vehicle and skirts around the trunk while Dream approaches the passenger door. Only when the driver’s fingers hook under the door handle does he realize that he has not planned for what might follow this. Until one hour ago, he was convinced that he would spend Valentine’s Day alone. Today’s visit caught him completely off-guard.

Slumping into the front seats, both men buckle their seat belts.

“sh*t, it’s so f*cking cold,” Dream curses. Then, as if he worries that this comment might offend Sapnap, he apologizes, “Sorry.”

“No worries,” Sapnap smirks. “That was exactly what I said when I first moved here.” Then, changing the subject, he admits more seriously, “I should say sorry, too, because honestly there really isn’t much to do here right now. There won’t be any fun places open in this weather.”

“That’s fine,” Dream shrugs casually. “I can’t say that I’m disappointed because I didn’t have a plan for today, either… besides coming here, of course.”

“Good to know.” Relieved that Dream did not expect for them to visit some sort of fancy event for the holiday, Sapnap reverses the car out of its parking spot. “Are you hungry, then? There should be at least a few restaurants open. I’ll buy dinner for you.”

“That sounds great!”

Smiling to himself, Sapnap steers the car from the parking lot onto the street. A winter service vehicle must have driven along the road recently; the asphalt is smooth, clear of snow. Except for a rumbling engine, the car ride is silent. Headlights slice through fog and snowflakes as the pair cross the gloomy city.

“Where do you want to eat?” Sapnap keeps his voice low. Dream does not reply, so he glances sideways to see the passenger facing away from him. The side window’s reflection reveals tense shoulders and a distracted expression, so the driver prompts, “Dream?”

“Huh?” Dragged from his thoughts, Dream straightens his back and turns his head to face forward.

“Is there a particular food you want?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t care. Anything.”

Sapnap expected that when his friend arrived, he would gush with stories about his day of traveling and about his blog’s progress. However, as the drive continues, Dream remains uncharacteristically quiet. Initially the driver assumes that his passenger is merely enjoying the snow and cold weather, but when they reach a stop light, Sapnap notices that Dream’s knee is bouncing below the glove compartment. Wondering if something is stressing his friend, he asks, “Dream, do you need to, you know -?” He trails off, then he finishes awkwardly, “- use a restroom?”

“No, I’m fine,” Dream shakes his head. His knee stops bouncing. “There were toilets at the train station, but thanks for asking.”

Once the stop light turns green, Sapnap presses his foot upon the accelerator. A restaurant’s outline looms in the distance, so he decides that if he cannot solve Dream’s problem, then he can at least encourage the other man to ignore it. “Hey, Dream?”

“Yeah?” The passenger rubs his thumbs together slowly.

“I don’t know if you’re, like, stressed about something or whatever, but, like, you don’t need to worry. I can pay for your stuff while you’re here and I can drive you to places if you need a ride. If money is the problem, then you can chill out.”

“That’s so generous of you, Sapnap.” Dream’s response is soft with gratitude. “Thank you.” The driver’s reassurance seems to help; the passenger relaxes.

Relieved, Sapnap slows the car so they can park in an unoccupied spot directly in front of the restaurant. It is a takeout location, offering plenty of vegetarian and vegan options.

Hopping out of the car, Dream and Sapnap approach the restaurant. When they enter, they discover a vacant dining area. Seeing no other customers, the pair stride past empty booths and clean tables before they reach the cashier: a lonely employee who perks up upon their arrival.

“Good evening, gentlemen!”

“Hello.” Dream greets shyly. After a moment of browsing the menu displayed high upon the wall, he remarks, “Those vegetable samosas look good. Are they vegan?”

“Yes, they’re vegan,” the cashier confirms.

“Perfect. I’ll get one order of samosas, please.” Stepping aside, Dream waits expectantly as Sapnap pulls out his wallet.

“Hello. Could I get the chicken tikka masala, please?”

“Of course.”

“Wait, what?” While the employee taps buttons on the cash register, Dream’s head snaps around to view Sapnap with a stunned expression. “Sapnap, you’re not even a vegetarian?”

“Uh, no?”

“f*ck, I thought -” Dream curses to himself, then he shrugs with a defeated sigh. “Okay, well, whatever. I’m flexible.”

Sapnap bursts into an unexpected fit of laughter, giggling beside his friend as he pays for their meals. Once they leave the cash register to sit at a table and wait for their food, he questions, “Was that really a surprise?”

“I don’t know!” Dream defends. “I guess I just - ugh, alright, fine. I shouldn’t have assumed!”

“So you’re still fine with hanging out in Maine with me?” Sapnap teases. “You won’t catch the next train back to Florida now that you know I’m a carnivore sometimes?”

“I won’t,” Dream promises. Humor glints in his eyes, but when he speaks again, his next admission is solemn: “I didn’t think I would see you again after I had to leave my job at the postage room.”

“I thought you were gone, too,” Sapnap agrees. “But I’m really glad that I won’t need to spend Valentine’s Day alone again.” Too late, he realizes the words that just exited his lips.

Dream heard it. He echoes curiously, “‘Again’?”

“Uh, yeah.” Embarrassed, Sapnap diverts his gaze to watch the restaurant’s chefs cooking in the kitchen behind the cash register. “The whole dating thing has been kind of stressful for me.”

“Why?” Tilting his head, Dream rests his elbows upon the table’s wooden surface. One upturned palm supports his jaw, demonstrating that he is listening.

Sapnap is not ready for this conversation yet. This is supposed to be a fun night with his friend, not the day when the adoration in Dream’s eyes transforms into pity and revulsion.

“Well, I do want to date,” Sapnap begins carefully. “But sometimes I’m afraid to discuss serious stuff. If we talk about serious stuff too soon, then the relationships end, you know?” His explanation is vague and messy, but the visitor is sympathetic.

“That makes sense,” Dream nods with understanding. “Sometimes things go wrong and you can’t avoid them.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Dream does not press the issue further. Sapnap appreciates it. They have not yet discussed whether this meeting is a date, but maybe tonight is too soon.

“Excuse me?” Shattering the quiet atmosphere, the restaurant’s cashier raises a hand to catch the men’s attention.

Both Dream and Sapnap turn to look. When they see the employee’s expectant expression and a plastic bag of food upon the countertop, they scurry up from their chairs. Thanking the cashier, they grab the bag of food and jog to the exit, suddenly discovering the hunger in their stomachs.

Biting winds outside steal the warmth from the men’s faces as they return to the car. Settling into the front seats, Dream and Sapnap buckle their seat belts while savory aromas of tikka masala and samosas waft into their nostrils.

“I’ll take you back to my apartment,” Sapnap decides, shivering as he turns on the heater. “My roommates are out with their girlfriends and they’ll probably be gone for another few hours, so we can eat and talk without bothering anyone.”

“Sounds good.”

Driving his passenger across the city to his apartment complex, Sapnap remembers how feverishly he prepared to fulfill this mission. Besides dressing in warm clothes and bringing a spare coat for Dream, he did not pay attention to anything else. Sapnap does not consider himself to be messy, but when he recognizes that Dream might witness and judge his living space, he feels nervous. For the first time, he also hopes that his roommates are having a good time with their girlfriends. Please don’t come home yet, he pleads silently, hoping they will not request a session of “private time” while Dream is here.

Beneath murky skies, the apartment complex looms into view. Sapnap drives back to his usual parking spot, turns off the car, and leads Dream toward his building. Carrying the plastic bag of food, they walk together beneath leafless trees with spindly branches. Icicles dangle low enough for the men to reach up and touch them. At one point, Dream briefly ignores the cold weather; he removes his hand from his coat and taps one bare finger against an icicle’s pointed tip. Sapnap’s heart flutters when he witnesses his friend’s delighted fascination.

Noticing that the host has paused, patiently waiting for him to catch up, the visitor shoves his hand back into his pocket. Leaving the icicle behind, Dream asks, “Sapnap, do you think I could make a sword from one of those?”

“Wouldn’t it shatter if you hit someone with it?”

“I wouldn’t need to hit anyone with it,” Dream reasons. “I think an ice sword would be intimidating enough that no one would try to fight me.”

“Well, good luck with making an ice sword back in Florida,” Sapnap scoffs sarcastically. “I bet it would be a puddle in two minutes.” Reaching the door of his hallway, he unlocks it with his key card and holds it open. “Anyway, here. Get inside.”

“Is it warmer?” Eagerly hurrying into the hallway, Dream heaves a sigh of relief when a gust of heated air blasts his face. “Ugh, that feels great.”

“It does.” Grinning with amusem*nt, Sapnap follows, then he resumes his position in front. “Let’s go.” He leads the visitor to his unit, expecting that their lively banter will continue, but as they walk, Dream falls quiet again. When they reach the unit, Sapnap glances back and notices that the other man’s expression has become oddly wary. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It sounds like a lie.

Maybe he’s worried that I’m not supposed to bring visitors? Sapnap wonders. His roommates’ girlfriends seem to have that problem, but that is why they visit their boyfriends’ apartment instead. Fortunately the unit is still empty when they enter.

“Here’s my place.” Unlocking the front door, Sapnap opens it so Dream can pass him and place the plastic bag of food onto the table in the main living area. “Thanks for carrying that.”

“Sure.” Dream surveys the darkened apartment. Sapnap worries that the unit might smell bad, but after a few moments, his friend nods with approval. “It looks clean.”

“Usually it isn’t,” Sapnap jokes, trying to lighten the mood. After locking the front door behind himself, he gestures to the coat racks. “You can hang your coat here, you can put your boots down there so they can dry, and you can put your backpack beside the table.”

“Okay.” Following his host’s instructions, Dream removes the donated coat, rain boots, and his backpack.

“You can start eating before me,” Sapnap encourages. “I don’t mind.” He walks to the kitchen, flicks on the lightswitch, turns on the heater, and returns to the table with paper napkins and metal utensils. A golden glow fills the main living area while warm air wafts from the vents into the apartment unit. The atmosphere feels surreal. I can’t believe he’s literally right here. Seating himself across from his visitor, the host unloads their boxes of food. “How was your flight yesterday?”

“It was surprisingly fun,” Dream replies as Sapnap slides a container of samosas toward him. “I don’t like heights, so I sat in an aisle seat and tried not to look out the window.”

“Good idea.” Sapnap stirs his chicken tikka masala, then he pours it over a plate of rice. “How about your train ride? You said it was overnight, right?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t awake for the whole trip. I booked a sleeping car, and my bed was too small for me, but I was really tired, so I just curled up and tried not to think about anything.”

Sapnap hums his acknowledgement. Perhaps if he remains quiet, then the visitor will not sense his guilt. Dream has done so much for me and he acts like it’s no big deal… but what have I done for him?

Allowing the conversation to taper off, Sapnap and Dream start their dinner. The host has never seen his visitor eat before, but soon Sapnap gains a distinct feeling that Dream’s behavior is unusual. He expected that his visitor would be ravenous after his traveling; instead, the visitor cuts each samosa into bite-sized pieces, then he eats them slowly as if he fears making a mess.

Although Dream ordered significantly less food than Sapnap, the two men finish their meals around the same time, at 5pm. By now, the glass windows reveal complete darkness outside, so Sapnap closes the curtains in the main living area and in the bedroom. Returning to the table, he jokes, “Well, I would offer to take you for a nice, romantic walking tour of my graduate school to celebrate the holiday, but we’ve got some weather problems outside.”

Dream does not react to the attempt at humor. Instead his eyes glitter with anxiety.

Sapnap’s smile fades. Something is wrong.

“Dream, when are you supposed to go back to Florida? Have you bought your train and plane tickets yet?”

Hesitantly Dream shakes his head. “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh, well, that’s great!” Sapnap is pleasantly surprised. “Then maybe you’ll still be here when the blizzard ends, and I can actually show you around after all! Can you work on your blog remotely? You can use my kitchen if you need to cook anything, and there’s an arts-and-crafts store in the city. I can buy you groceries and art supplies!”

“You’re willing to do all of that?” Dream’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Wow, that’s, um - I appreciate that, Sapnap. Thank you.”

“Of course!” Maybe he just needs reassurance every once in a while, Sapnap assumes. Hoping that the problem is solved, he changes the subject. “But what do you wanna do tonight? The storm hasn’t affected the Internet yet, so we can watch a movie or television show if you want!”

“Is that what you want to do?” Dream’s tone is not argumentative, but he appears so conflicted that Sapnap doubts watching a movie is what his visitor wants.

Where did Dream’s usual enthusiasm go? The former receptionist almost seems like a different person now. Troubled, Sapnap brings his laptop from his work desk back to the main living area, where he joins Dream upon the couch.

“Are you cold?” Balancing his laptop upon one splayed palm, Sapnap offers, “I can turn up the heater.”

“You don’t need to,” Dream assures. “I’m not cold.”

“Oh, okay. Is there any movie in particular that you want to see?”

“No, you can choose.”

Unease brews in Sapnap’s gut as he turns on his laptop and navigates to its streaming application. He scrolls past movie titles and images, waiting for a reaction from Dream that might indicate what he wants to watch.

“Have you ever seen ‘I Am Going to Be Switzerland’?” Sapnap suggests. “It’s about a guy who shapeshifts into the maps of different countries.”

“I’ve heard about that.” Dream’s tone is distracted: uninterested.

Briefly Sapnap attempts to find another movie until he realizes that it probably will not solve the problem. Without speaking, he closes the streaming application, shuts off his laptop, and places the device upon the coffee table near the pair’s feet.

“What’s wrong, Sapnap?”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you the same question.” Facing his apprehensive visitor, the host makes eye contact. “Why are you acting like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, but you’re kind of scaring me. We’re friends, Dream. If something is wrong, you can talk to me about it.”

Alarm flashes in Dream’s eyes, glinting in the soft lamp light. “Really, I’m okay. It’s just -” Too late, he falters.

Instantly catching onto the last two words, Sapnap prompts, “It’s just what?”

“It’s just that I didn’t reserve a hotel room for tonight.”

“That’s fine. I said I’ve got you covered while you’re here, and that includes letting you sleep on my couch if you need a place to stay. My roommates won’t care. They invite their girlfriends all the time! Plus, I doubt you would’ve found a hotel room anyway because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Unconvinced, Dream looks away.

Besides money and sleeping arrangements, what could possibly be the problem? Sapnap wants Dream to be happy while he is here, not drowning in anxiety because of an easily fixable issue! There must be something I’m missing. The lack of a hotel room might be only the tip of an iceberg. Maybe the real problem dwells out of sight, far below the surface of these metaphorical waters. If Sapnap wants to learn the true cause of his friend’s insecurity, then he must ignore the tip of the iceberg and examine the rough waves around it instead. Carefully he asks, “Dream, why did you decide to surprise me here?”

“I don’t know.” Dream’s reply is weak: helpless. Shame casts a shadow over his eyes. Staring at the floor, he murmurs, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. This was such a selfish decision. I probably made you think that this would be some sort of -” Bowing his head, he curls into himself, crumpling like a leaf before he can finish the sentence.

Unable to believe what he is hearing, Sapnap places a comforting hand upon Dream’s arm. Rubbing his shoulder blade with slow circles, he questions, “You traveled for an entire f*cking day just to spend time with me, and you think that’s selfish? Shut up.” Fearing the regret that Dream might feel, Sapnap decides that he must be brave. Inhaling a deep breath, he dives, plunging into frigid waters. “Dream, the first half of today was sh*t for me. I was mad at my roommates just because they had girlfriends for Valentine’s Day. I thought I didn’t have anyone, but then you texted me, and you know what?”

Hearing the raw sincerity in Sapnap’s confession, Dream lifts his head to meet his friend’s eyes. Piercing teal collides with bright hazel again, but the visitor does not look away this time. Sapnap’s recklessly hopeful courage urges him to continue.

“Dream, I wasn’t lying when I said I was glad you visited. I know that you had feelings for me back at the university. If you’re scared that I don’t feel the same way, then you should know that I want to be more than friends, too. I love you, Dream.” Abruptly realizing where this path has led, Sapnap removes his hand from Dream’s shoulder to touch his friend’s wrist instead.

Dream’s expression softens. His eyes glisten with unshed tears. Two hearts pound fast until he asks hoarsely, “Sapnap, do you really feel like that? You feel the same way?”

“Yeah, I do,” Sapnap promises solemnly, fingers gliding along Dream’s wrist. Warm, calloused palms slide together… until Dream pulls his hand away.

“Sapnap, that’s -” His smile is both joyful and sad. With a cynical chuckle to himself, he looks away again. “That’s not good.”

“What? Why?” Bewildered, Sapnap retracts his hand. “Dream, if I still have a chance with you, then I don’t want to miss it.” Churning tides threaten to rip him away from the iceberg. “Are you worried that people will judge us or something? Is that the problem? If so, then I don’t care if we’re both guys! If any hom*ophobes try to -”

“No, that’s not the problem,” Dream interrupts, shaking his head. He squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his jaw with frustration. “Listen, you mean everything to me. I would love to have a relationship with you, but we shouldn’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have, like, a problem.”

“A problem?” Sapnap is baffled. “Everyone has problems. I have lots of them! How can I hate you for having problems, too?”

“This is a different kind of problem,” Dream argues, exasperated. “There’s something wrong with me, and it would be irresponsible to keep leading you on.” Without giving his friend another chance to protest, the visitor stands from the couch and mutters, “I think I should go.”

“Go?” Internally panicking, Sapnap leaps up from the couch to follow his friend. No, no, no, he can’t leave now! If Dream goes, he will not return. “Wait!”

Despite the guilt wreathing around him, Dream hurries timidly toward the front door. The iceberg attempts to escape: to drift away with the tide so the man who dives beside it will never discover the secret haunting its bottom.

Dream is near his breaking point, so close to revealing what has destroyed his self-esteem. Mind racing, the host moves slowly to avoid spooking his visitor. Sapnap forces himself to remain calm even as fear frays the edges of his voice. “Dream?”

Leaning down, the visitor pauses halfway through pulling drenched rain boots onto his feet. His freckled cheeks are flushed when he looks up to view his host. Even if he leaves, we need peace. Sapnap does not want to lose him.

“If you want to leave, that’s okay.” Raising his hands in a placating gesture, Sapnap maintains serious eye contact. Speaking slowly, he continues. “I won’t try to stop you, but I want to make you a deal. We don’t need to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to. I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night. Tomorrow morning, I’ll help you pack for your trip home. I’ll take you to the train station, or to the airport if there are flights available. I’ll pay for your tickets and food: whatever you need. All I want you to do is sleep here - on the couch, or at least on the floor - so you won’t need to sleep on the train back to Florida on a bed that’s too small for you. Would you be willing to do that for me?”

As Sapnap speaks, Dream’s boiling anxiety reduces to a simmering unease. Swallowing, he agrees hesitantly, “Alright, that sounds fair. I guess I can stay for tonight, then I’ll go in the morning… and we’ll still be friends?”

“Yes, we’ll still be friends.” Numb with relief, Sapnap pats Dream’s shoulder for reassurance, then he steps back and gestures toward the restroom. “You can take a shower here, too, if you want. I have extra clothes that you can wear.”

“Okay.” The visitor’s expression is unreadable as he follows Sapnap to the large bedroom, where the host rummages through his clothes for a long-sleeved shirt, flannel sweatpants, boxer briefs, and a pair of thick, knee-length socks.

“These should be enough.”

“Thanks.” Dream carries the stack of warm clothing to the restroom. Turning on the lightswitch and fan, he closes the door behind himself, probably grateful for the hiding place.

Listening from the bedroom’s doorway, Sapnap hears a shower curtain, then water upon a tiled floor. He heaves a heavy sigh, unsure whether to feel thankful or defeated. I think I failed, he laments. Whatever secret Dream keeps must be too painful for him to reveal. Maybe after his friend returns to Florida, then they can discuss it without the added pressure of eye contact and physical closeness.

Still tense, Sapnap searches his closet for an extra pillow, an extra blanket, extra sheets, and a pillow case so Dream can sleep comfortably upon the couch. I wish it were my bed instead, he muses, but of course, Sapnap has his own dark secret which makes that a terrible idea.

After tossing empty food containers into the waste bin and shoving the plastic bag from dinner into a kitchen drawer, Sapnap cleans the table with a disinfecting wipe. He hums to himself while he cleans… until he hears something strange.

Muffled noises emanate from behind the restroom door, barely audible above the sound of running water. There is heavy breathing, but when the host pauses to listen, he realizes it sounds more like sniffling.

Discarding the wipe, Sapnap washes his hands and dries them on a paper towel before approaching the restroom and pressing his ear against the wood. Much closer than before, he hears soft, pitiful weeping.

Dream is crying.

Instinctively Sapnap raises his fist to knock upon the door, then he hesitates. Should he interrupt to ask if his friend is okay? I promised I would leave him alone, but he sounds so miserable. He imagines the vibrant, cheerful receptionist who always found the good amongst the evil. Now this wonderful man is crying in a shower, probably covering his mouth to conceal his own sobs. This image disturbs Sapnap too much for him to keep his promise. Summoning his courage, he knocks. “Dream, are you okay?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” The door muffles Dream’s strained voice. Before the host can wonder how to proceed, the visitor apologizes fervently, “I’m sorry I’m leaving early tomorrow. I know you were really excited for me to stay longer, but I just - you need to understand -”

“It’s alright, Dream,” Sapnap assures, dismissing the other man’s worries. “I know it’s not personal.” Deciding that he will regret it if he does not try one more time to help, the host clears his throat to ask, “Can I ask why you’re crying?”

Instead of answering the question, Dream says something unexpected: “You can come in if you want.”

“Are you sure?” Startled, Sapnap leans away from the door. His heart rate spikes with both apprehension and anticipation. His fingers tingle as they touch the door knob.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Inhaling a deep breath to calm his nerves, Sapnap twists the door knob and pulls it open, blinking in the harsh white light that spills out. Steam seeps through the doorway, but when it clears, Dream is not visible; he is still hiding behind the closed shower curtain. Unsure whether he should avert his gaze anyway, Sapnap whispers, “Okay, I’m here.”

The cheap white shower curtain is a flimsy barrier between the two men, but the lack of eye contact seems to encourage Dream, who turns off the shower water. Voice thick with emotion, he confesses, “I love you, too, Sapnap. I love you so much, and I know that people say if you love someone, then you should let them go, but I don’t wanna let you go, and I’m just - I’m so sorry.”

“Dream, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mystified, Sapnap asks, “Why would you need to let me go at all?”

“Even if we both feel the same way, we can’t have a relationship.”

“You said that already, but why not?”

“If you heard the truth, you wouldn’t want to be with me.”

“Why not?” Sapnap repeats, frustration growing.

“Because I have problems.”

“I know! You said that already, too, but you aren’t telling me what the problems are!” Abruptly realizing that he is yelling, voice echoing off the white-painted walls, Sapnap falls quiet. He catches his breath for a few seconds, but before he can apologize, Dream rasps,

“Do you have a towel?”

“Yeah, I do.” Resenting his temper, Sapnap leaves the restroom to fetch a towel and brings it back. Stretching his hand toward the edge of the curtain, he mutters, “Here it is.”

Nimble fingers dart from behind the curtain, grabbing the towel and plucking it from his grasp. “Thanks.” Then, after drying his skin, Dream requests with a hint of embarrassment, “Also, could you look away for a minute, please?”

“Of course.” Averting his gaze and squeezing his eyes shut, Sapnap waits patiently as the curtain slides open. Sighing softly, Dream steps out of the shower. A few water droplets drip from his body onto the tiled floor while the towel and a bath mat absorb the rest.

Neither man speaks while Dream dons the fresh clothes that Sapnap allowed him to borrow. He does not sniffle anymore, but his distress is still present.

“Alright,” the visitor mumbles. “You can look again.” Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Dream monitors the host’s reaction.

Sapnap opens his eyes and turns to face his friend. His breath hitches with amazement when he witnesses his clothes on Dream’s body. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, flannel sweatpants, and knee-length socks, the other man is alarmingly attractive. However, he is also visibly distraught with flushed cheeks, pinkened eyes, and a runny nose. Struggling to maintain eye contact, he hiccups once.

“Oh no,” Sapnap breathes. Grabbing a box of facial tissue from beside the sink, he offers, “Here, take these for your nose.”

Wordlessly Dream reaches for a facial tissue, then he blows his nose and tosses the used tissue into the restroom’s small waste bin.

“Do you wanna hang out on the couch?” Remembering the extra bedding that he gathered, Sapnap beckons, “Follow me. I’ll show you where you can sleep.” He steps out of the restroom, crossing the apartment with a silent Dream behind him, and gestures to the couch. “Check it out: I set it up for you.”

Dream remains quiet, but gratitude joins the sadness in his eyes. Nodding at Sapnap with appreciation, he passes the host to feel the blanket’s fabric. Wet locks of hair dampen the back of his shirt collar.

Assuming that Dream would prefer privacy, Sapnap turns around to leave him alone just like they agreed. However, he stops when a hand suddenly grabs his wrist.

“Wait.” Breaking the tense silence, Dream requests, “Stay with me.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sapnap’s hope soars. Together the pair sit on the edge of the couch. Uncertain about whether to speak, Sapnap stares ahead at the opposite wall. He gasps with astonishment when an unexpected head touches his shoulder, resting gently upon it. Relaxing slightly, he wraps an arm around Dream’s torso and presses his cheek against the top of Dream’s head. Soggy clumps of hair cool his skin while the scent of shampoo wafts into his nostrils.

For several minutes, the men simply exist together. Sapnap always imagined that he would be the one to break down in front of Dream, but ironically, he ended up being the source of comfort instead.

Unbeknownst to Sapnap, he was never a diver destined to reveal this iceberg’s bottom. Instead Sapnap was the sun, gradually warming a frozen ocean until the iceberg began to thaw, melt, and expose its secrets to the light above.

“You asked why I decided to come and surprise you,” Dream murmurs. “Do you still wanna hear about that?”

“Only if you’re okay with telling me.”

“I knew that if I came here on Valentine’s Day, it would seem like a date, as if we were a long-distance couple meeting for the holiday, you know? I really liked that. I wanted that. I wanted to feel like I was surprising my - like I was surprising a boyfriend, but I didn’t want that to lead to nothing. When I bought my plane and train tickets, I told myself we would hang out and have fun. I convinced myself that it wouldn’t be a date, so I wouldn’t need to think about how scared I was that you wouldn’t -” Shaking, Dream swallows to suppress another sob as it threatens to emerge from his throat. “I was really scared that you would think I was weird or gross, and that you might make me leave.”

“Why would I do that?” Bewildered, Sapnap protests, “You traveled, like, forever just to spend time with me! How could I make you leave?”

Dream neither contradicts him nor answers his question. Instead he warns, “Sapnap, I promise that I wanted to confess. I wanted to tell you how I felt when you visited me at the postage room. I wanted to tell you when you messaged my blog, too. I wanted to tell you during every single one of our calls… but even if you promise that your feelings won’t change, you would see me differently if I told you - wait, where are you going?”

“Stay there.” Leaving his friend’s side, Sapnap bounds off the couch. He runs to his bedroom and rummages through the drawer beneath his work desk until he finds a familiar book. Grabbing it, he hurries back to the main living area, where his perplexed visitor waits for him. Shoving the book into Dream’s hands, he plops onto the couch again and instructs, “Read the title.”

“‘The Foundations of Body Confidence: How to Love Yourse’ -” Dream’s jaw slackens with disbelief. “Oh my god, you kept this?”

“I finished it, too,” the host confirms proudly. “It was a good book, and maybe now you need it more than I do. I would rate it a 10 out of 10.”

Dream gapes, searching Sapnap’s gaze for dishonesty and finding none. Awestruck, he runs his fingers along the book’s spine, briefly distant as he remembers the day when he gave this gift to his crush. Then, before the host can wonder about his visitor’s thoughts, Dream places the book on the coffee table and faces him on the couch.

“Sometimes I felt like there was some sort of poison inside me, telling me that no one would ever want me or love me back, but you…” Suddenly he wraps both arms around Sapnap’s shoulders, pulling him closer to his side so they can exchange another, much tighter hug. “Somehow you do.”

This time, it is Sapnap’s turn to gape with shock. Dream’s description of his inner turmoil is eerily similar to the storm of insecurity that has haunted him for so long. He’s just like me… and revealing the poison’s existence is also what destroys it.

Pulling away from the hug, Dream wipes his runny nose with his sleeve, tears glistening in his eyes again before he concedes, “I think I’m ready to talk now. At least, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay,” Sapnap encourages gently. He feels like he is floating again, weightless and free.

“I should probably add that if you think I’m gross or weird, then I can leave even earlier than tomorrow morning -”

“Stop.” The host interrupts his visitor before he can spiral again. “I’m not judging. Go ahead.”

“Well, uh, since I wanted to be your boyfriend, you might guess that I wanted to do boyfriend things with you, too. You know, like, holding hands and dating and whatever?” Dream drums nervous fingers upon his thighs until Sapnap nods for him to continue. “But if we did something more than that, then it wouldn’t be my first time ever doing that kind of stuff… but you probably know already that if people don’t use protection, then there can be unintended consequences.”

“Oh my god, do you have a kid?”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant!” Hastily the visitor clarifies, “I don’t have a kid. I have hepatitis B.”

“You have -?” Sapnap can barely process the words.

“Hepatitis B,” Dream repeats. “It’s an STD. I take medication to control it, but technically it’s incurable… and it’s also kind of contagious.”

Oh.

Sapnap does not know how to respond… yet he falls deeper in love than he has ever been. Unexpectedly he starts to laugh: as some sort of coping response or stress relief, he is not sure, but this sudden fit of giggles catches Dream off-guard.

Blinking with surprise and uncertainty, the visitor asks, “Sapnap?”

“Holy sh*t.” The host aches in his sides as he struggles to stop the loud, hearty cackling that erupts from his lungs. “That’s what the problem was?”

“Uh, yeah?” Dream is still conflicted about how to interpret his friend’s inexplicable reaction. “Why were you laughing?”

Wiping his eyes, Sapnap calms down, but his broad grin and sparkling eyes remain as he promises, “Dream, I don’t care.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t care that you have hepatitis.” Sapnap stumbles into the inevitable confession with a strange exhilaration. “Guess what? I have herpes.”

“Herpes?” Dream echoes. Slowly the realization dawns upon him, too. “Isn’t that also a -?”

“Yeah, it is,” Sapnap nods, trembling slightly. For the first time, he feels no shame when he reveals, “I have an STD, too.” I’m just like you. He wishes he learned the truth sooner until he discovers how close he came to never learning the truth at all.

The corners of Dream’s lips curl upwards in an elated smile, full of hope and relief and joy. After more than one year of separation, tension, and unspoken thoughts, they finally see themselves in each other. Within their hearts, the poisonous sludge evaporates, the tendrils of doubt recede, and the rest of their fears ebb.

“In case you need to hear it again,” Sapnap reminds his more-than-a-friend, voice soft with sincerity. “I love you, Dream, and no STD can change that.”

Overwhelmed, Dream loses his composure first. Shoulders hunching, ribs heaving, he descends into sobs of happiness. When the host wraps arms around him again, the visitor returns the embrace with equal fervor, laughing and crying simultaneously as warm tears drip upon his borrowed sweatpants.

“There you go, buddy,” Sapnap encourages, voice gruff with amusem*nt as he rubs the other man’s back. “Let it all out.”

Pressing the side of his face against the host’s neck, Dream whispers, “I was so scared that I would be alone for the rest of -” Too shy to finish the sentence, he falls quiet. Whether he meant the rest of the year or the rest of his life is uncertain.

“I know.” Tenderly the host reaches to hold his visitor’s hand again. “But you won’t be alone anymore after this.”

Two palms slide together. Thick and nimble fingers intertwine. Neither man pulls their hand away this time. Sapnap squeezes lightly; when his hand relaxes, Dream squeezes it, too. Gradually the visitor’s sobs cease, his shoulders stop quaking, and his breathing returns to normal. With the sun’s devoted encouragement, the iceberg has melted, leaving smoother waters behind.

“What if I change my mind about leaving early?”

“You want to stay for longer?” Sapnap’s heart soars with jubilation.

“I don’t want to leave in the morning.” Dream snuggles closer until the sides of their torsos and thighs press together, sharing body heat. “But I mean, how long can I stay? Technically I still don’t have any train or plane tickets to go back to Florida.”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Sapnap reassures. “For tonight, I’m just glad that you’re staying at all.”

Dream hums his acknowledgement. Then, bolder than before, he murmurs, “Your heart is beating so fast. I can hear it.”

Sapnap’s breath hitches. He becomes aware of how close they sit, of how Dream’s skin presses against his own, and of how they are still holding hands.

“Sapnap?”

“Hm?”

Despite the low light, Dream’s eyes still gleam with gratitude, “I’m so glad it was you. I love you.”

White noise floods Sapnap’s thoughts as these words etch themselves permanently into his memory. Even if this paradise is only temporary, he is sure he will remember it for the rest of his life. Dream feels this way… for me. He wants to be together with me.

A sliver of night sky is visible between the window’s closed curtains. A crescent moon reveals that the blizzard has cleared, leaving a blanket of snow glistening upon the ground.

Below the pair, Sapnap’s bed sheets and blankets drape over the couch. Soft fabric anchors them to this moment, tempting them with promises of safety.

Sensing Sapnap’s uncertainty about whether this is love or lust, Dream reassures, “If you don’t want to do anything physical - like literally ever - that’s fine.” Without waiting for the host’s reassurance, the visitor continues sheepishly, “I mean, I don’t want to give you hepatitis, and I bet you don’t want to give me herpes, either.”

Acknowledging the hasty warning with a curt nod, Sapnap agrees, “Dream, even if it’s just for tonight, I want you. Please stay with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Both excitement and anxiety flood Sapnap’s thoughts. Oh my god, this is real. This is actually happening. Feeling like he might faint, he inhales a deep breath and scoots off the couch. The boyfriends sneak sly glances at each other as Dream swings his legs off the cushions, too. Once both men wear clothes again, Sapnap checks the clock. 6:37pm. He must take his daily herpes medication around this time. Maybe I’m not alone, either. “Hey, Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“You take pills for your hepatitis B, right?”

“I do!” With a burst of fresh energy, Dream jogs to his backpack, which still rests on the floor beside the table. “Thanks for reminding me.” Unzipping a compartment, he rummages through it.

“No problem. I’ll get mine, too.” Sapnap copies his boyfriend. He strides to his bedroom, swipes the bottle of herpes medication from his work desk, and carries the orange plastic back to the main living area. Standing beside the table already, Dream places a single pill upon the wooden surface before he returns the rest of the medication to his backpack.

From the kitchen sink, Sapnap fills two plastic cups with water and offers one to his boyfriend. Simultaneously popping the pills into their mouths, they tilt their heads back and wash them down with water. Neither man has ever taken his medication in front of someone else before. Their bond strengthens further. When both cups are empty, Sapnap places them into the sink before his gaze returns to his boyfriend. However, the visitor’s demeanor has changed; his freckled cheeks are flushed while fresh tears collect in his eyes.

“Dream?” Alarmed, the host worries that regret is what haunts his boyfriend. Gesturing toward the couch, he wraps an arm around Dream’s shoulders to coax, “Here, let’s sit.”

The two men seat themselves upon the couch, whose cushions dip below their weight. Dream hugs Sapnap from the side. Before the host can ask what is wrong, his visitor anticipates the question.

“Don’t worry, Sapnap, I’m happy.” Resting his cheek upon Sapnap’s broad shoulder, Dream admits, “I just can’t believe all of this happened, but things are better now than they were. I found you again, and you don’t treat me like I’m inferior or something. You don’t judge me. I could never thank you enough for that.” Dream sighs, enjoying the comfortable closeness.

Soft silence wreaths around the couple, warm with trust and mutual gratitude. Listening patiently, Sapnap expects that this will be the end of Dream’s thoughts. He believes that the final confrontation with their insecurities has passed. He is sure they have fully reckoned with the poisonous sludge which convinced them that the world was their enemy.

Sapnap is wrong. One last opponent remains, lurking in his subconscious mind: himself… or rather, his past self. Sapnap forgot that man existed.

Dream begins his last confession. “I wasn’t born with hepatitis B. I got it from someone else. It was a guy from a different university. You wouldn’t have known him.” He sniffles, then he wipes his runny nose with a finger. “I trusted him. I shouldn’t have trusted him. It was my fault.”

Even if Sapnap reassured that the infection was not Dream’s fault, he doubts his boyfriend would believe him. “Were you in a relationship with this guy?”

Dream’s shoulder tenses. After a long hesitation, he admits, “Not yet.”

Sapnap experiences a sinking sensation in his gut. He guesses the truth. “Was it, like, sex on the first date?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Both men stare across the dimly-lit room at the wall, where their shadows meld into one. The lack of eye contact is not enough to conceal Dream’s contempt.

“He said I was the most beautiful person he had ever met,” Dream stammers, voice wavering. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a serious relationship, but he complimented everything about me: my hair, my clothes, my eyes. Even when I found out he infected me, I didn’t break up with him for weeks. I f*cking forgave him. I wish I could take it back. I don’t forgive him anymore.” His voice is a quiet mumble, laced with the last remnants of his shame. “After I broke up with him and blocked his number, I thought about it, and I realized… he knew. He knew he had hepatitis B. He knew that he might give it to me, but he didn’t warn me until it was too late.” Like a growing fire, Dream’s anger swells, spreading through his body until its heat reaches the man beside him. “I didn’t even like the guy that much. I was just so sick of being lonely. I thought that I wouldn’t find anyone else who loved me, so I settled. I was such an idiot. I was so easy -” Abruptly Dream falters. He swallows hard. His rage ebbs as quickly as it formed, then he sighs, releasing his tension with a heavy exhale until only hollow resentment remains. “Sapnap, what do you think?”

“About your ex?”

“No. About me.”

“About you?” Blinking, Sapnap stares at the wall. Careful to avoid saying something that might blame Dream for the infection, he speaks slowly. “I don’t think it’s wrong to be ‘easy’. I mean, if you’re easy, then I’m easy, too.” With the hand that is not wrapped around Dream’s shoulders, he gestures to the pair sitting on the couch. “Look. We only met again a few hours ago, but we’re both here now. We got together on the first date, too.”

“Whatever.” Apparently this is not the answer Dream hoped to receive. Tightening his grip around Sapnap’s torso, he presses the bridge of his nose against his boyfriend’s neck. “All of that is over now. It’s done. That guy is gone, and I know you’re better than him. You wouldn’t do the same thing. You wouldn’t get together with someone without telling them about your herpes, would you?” Without waiting for an answer, Dream shakes his head. Despite his thick, choked voice, his tone is stern with certainty. “No, I know you wouldn’t. You don’t even need to promise you wouldn’t do the same thing because I know you’re too kind to hurt someone like that, Sapnap. You would never keep a secret that might hurt someone.”

Speechless, Sapnap cannot respond. He feels like he is falling, tumbling into an abyss. Guilt nearly overwhelms him when he remembers an afternoon over one year ago. He remembers flirting with a random girl, exchanging numbers, arranging a first date, and hoping to have sex on that first date. He remembers a phone call from his doctor and the revelation that changed his life. Finally Sapnap remembers a fight with his roommate George, who insisted that Sapnap needed to tell his date about his STD. Recklessly Sapnap argued that he shouldn’t need to mention his herpes. He nearly kept his STD a secret. If George had not interfered, Sapnap would have kept the secret… and he might have become the villain who Dream described with such vicious loathing.

In Sapnap’s imagination, his past self stares into a mirror, but he does not see himself in the reflection. Instead he sees Dream’s ex-boyfriend. Recognizing the eerie similarity, he tries to drag himself back into the present. Dream does not know that Sapnap resembled the man who haunts his memories. I don’t want him to know.

Sapnap was not the selfless, virtuous man who Dream believes he is… but he can become that man.

Beside him, Dream hums softly to himself. His rage has dissipated by now. Sapnap feels a rush of empathy; both men fear abandonment and loneliness. Their fear rendered them irrational… but it doesn’t need to be that way.

After several minutes, Sapnap breaks the silence. “How do you feel now, Dream?”

“Better,” his lover shrugs. “Kind of tired. I think my hepatitis medication just hit me.”

“No problem. My medication will probably hit me soon, too.” Sapnap sighs to himself, determined to help Dream forget about the past that haunted him for so long. Gently rubbing his boyfriend’s arm, he asks, “Do you wanna sleep together?”

“On the couch?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” Dream lifts his head off his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I brought stuff with me to brush my teeth, too.”

“Alright.” Standing from the couch, Sapnap removes his hand from Dream’s arm to hold his hand instead. Intertwining their fingers together, he offers a comforting squeeze.

“Thanks.”

Briefly the men separate so Dream can unpack supplies from his backpack. Thirty seconds later, the boyfriends gather before the sink in the restroom, squirting toothpaste onto toothbrushes. Squinting in the harsh yellow light from above, they brush their teeth together, enjoying the minty-fresh smell and domesticity despite their exhaustion from a long day of travel and tears. Taking turns, Dream and Sapnap spit into the sink, then they rinse their faces and dry them with a towel. Along the way back to the couch, Sapnap turns off the lights in the apartment unit.

Tossing the blanket over themselves, the lovers snuggle together, laying side-by-side on their backs. The narrow couch presses them close while darkness smothers them. Best Valentine’s Day ever.

Within minutes, Dream and Sapnap overheat. The apartment’s heater is still on, so the entangled partners become sweaty fast.

Pushing the blanket down, Dream mutters, “Holy sh*t, I’m so f*cking hot.”

“I know that already.” Sapnap’s tone is joking, but as they cool down, it becomes serious again. “You know what, Dream? I know you’re not leaving tomorrow, but if you did need to leave, that would be okay.” When his boyfriend hums with curiosity, he continues, “I don’t really know if you found me or if I found you, but -”

“We found each other,” Dream corrects.

“Right, exactly.” Sapnap smiles to himself. “I’m glad you came here.”

Dream responds by clinging to his boyfriend even tighter.

The lovers cannot end the night with a kiss, but that is okay. Instead they press the sides of their faces into each other, cheeks smushing together. Then they stop moving, still cuddling, until the only movement is the rise and fall of their rib cages.

Except for the heater’s low rumble and the lovers’ steady breathing, the apartment unit is silent: so quiet that Sapnap forgot he does not live alone.

Muffled footsteps and voices - both male and female - echo from the hallway. Dream and Sapnap pay no attention until the sound of rattling metal startles them. A key unlocks the front door before light from the hallway spills into the unit.

“It’s dark,” a female voice remarks: Ivy.

“Yeah,” a male voice responds. “He must be in the bedroom. Hopefully he’ll let us kick him out again so we can f*ck around a little bit -” Before he can finish his sentence, another roommate turns on the light switch. It reveals that their fourth companion is actually not in the bedroom like they anticipated.

Dream blinks fast while Sapnap squints, realizing that the three roommates and their girlfriends have stumbled upon their cuddling session. Ignoring his girlfriend Katherine, who politely averts her gaze, one of the roommates demands, “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, hello!” Completely unfazed, Dream sits up from the couch. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”

“Wait, hold on.” One of the girlfriends, Camila, steps forward. Her wariness transforms into astonishment when she recognizes the man on the couch. “Are you Dream Adell?”

Nudging his boyfriend, Dream gapes with disbelief. “Goddammit, Sapnap. You didn’t say that they would recognize me!”

“Uh…” Remembering that Camila is the person who recommended Dream’s blog in January, Sapnap grits his teeth and hides his face in his palms. “I didn’t think anyone would recognize you.”

“Oh my god, this is so cool!” Approaching her favorite vegan blogger, Camila opens her purse and rummages through it until she pulls out a pen and piece of paper. “I’m a huge fan.”

“You’re a fan?” Instantly Dream relaxes, then his face brightens with glee. “Holy sh*t, it’s great to meet you!” Pointing at the pen and paper, he asks, “Would you like an autograph?”

“Yes, please.” Eagerly Camila passes the pen and paper into Dream’s hands.

“Woah, what?” Jealous of the attention that his girlfriend is giving to another man, Camila’s boyfriend intercepts the exchange. “Why do you want an autograph? You don’t know this guy!” Facing Sapnap, he accuses, “Also, you told us you were single.”

“Well…” Losing his shyness, Sapnap sits up, too. “I might not be single anymore.” Addressing the six newcomers, he introduces, “Guys, this is my boyfriend. He’s nice, I promise.”

“Yes, I can confirm I don’t bite… hard.” Thoroughly enjoying his audience’s intimidated reactions, Dream assures, “Anyway, dude, you can chill. I stole your roommate's heart, not your girlfriend's.” Facing Camila again, he returns the pen and signed paper to her hands. “Thanks for being a fan!”

“Of course!” Still giddy from meeting her favorite vegan blogger, Camila nods, “Your new eggplant casserole recipe was amazing. I tried it last week! There’s no way it was as good as yours, but I’m planning to try it again.”

“That’s great to hear!” Beaming from the compliment, the blogger advises, “Make sure you add plenty of salt to the eggplants when you drain them. It prevents the casserole from becoming too watery.”

Sapnap marvels at the enthusiasm which gleams in Dream’s teal eyes as he offers advice despite the judgmental eyes upon him. Once the blogger and his fan finish their interaction, he addresses everyone else: “Well, guys, if you want to use the bedroom, it’s free… but I’m not leaving the apartment for you to have an orgy this time, so please keep the volume down.” Sapnap can barely suppress a triumphant laugh when he witnesses the annoyance on his roommates’ faces. His request inconveniences them, yet revenge is too tempting to resist when they have made similar requests so many times.

After the roommates lead their girlfriends to the bedroom and turn off the light switch for the main living area, Dream and Sapnap lay down fully again. This time, they cover themselves with the blanket and return to their peaceful cuddling. Ignoring the Valentine’s Day sex happening in the bedroom nearby, they relax together. Gradually their breathing rates slow until they succumb to a gentle slumber, rich with the comforting knowledge that tonight may be the beginning of a much better future.

Snow covers the ground outside, but the blizzard has ended. For the first time in two days, sunlight peeks through an overcast sky to shower warmth upon the landscape. Through the closed curtains of a particular apartment, a single ray of sunshine banishes the muted dawn that fills the unit. Light falls upon a couch, illuminating the men who sleep together upon its cushions. Two chests rise and fall beneath a blanket as the boyfriends breathe in unison.

Dream’s leg hooks over Sapnap’s waist while Sapnap’s arm drapes over Dream’s shoulders. Neither man has slept so peacefully in months. When they finally return to consciousness, they cannot remember feeling this happy.

Drowsy from his slumber, Sapnap sighs and blinks up at the ceiling with blurry vision. Still half-asleep, he makes eye contact with the man who clings to him. Their heads rest close together, only centimeters apart upon the same pillow. The golden glow from outside shines upon their eyelashes.

Dream intends to greet his boyfriend with a loving “good morning”, but all that emerges is a gentle, “Hm.”

Sapnap responds with a groggy smile. His brain has not rebooted yet, so his only thought is about how gorgeous Dream looks beside him. I love you. Without thinking, he slides his head across the pillow. Dream’s eyelids flutter closed with bliss as Sapnap’s face closes the gap between them. They share an earnest kiss, noses tickling each other’s cheeks. Adoring the soft lips against his own, Sapnap tastes his boyfriend for the first time, kissing and sucking. Why haven’t we done this before?

Then, as Dream’s hand touches his cheek with tender care, Sapnap remembers. Herpes spreads through saliva. Jolting alert, the host panics. Disconnecting his lips from Dream’s, he pulls his face away and mumbles, “Wait, stop. Wake up.”

“Why?” The visitor whines and squeezes his eyes shut, removing his hand from his lover’s cheek to pull their blanket over himself. He isn’t fully awake yet. He doesn’t know!

Sitting up from the couch, Sapnap grabs his boyfriend’s shoulder and shakes it. In a frantic whisper, he insists, “We can’t do that! We can’t kiss!”

Eyes still bleary with confusion, Dream squints up at Sapnap. Then, sensing the other man’s urgency, he blinks and looks around. Finally awake, Dream remembers, too. “Oh sh*t!” Sharing his lover’s panic, he touches his lips, which still glisten with Sapnap’s saliva.

“Come on.” The blanket collapses to the hardwood floor as Sapnap grabs Dream’s hand and drags him off the couch. The pair hurry across the unit past a closed bedroom door, where Sapnap’s roommates are still asleep. Full of adrenaline, the host escorts his visitor to the restroom sink, where he urges, “Wash off your mouth.”

Dream obeys without argument. Bending over the sink, he turns on the faucet and splashes cold water onto his mouth, then he rubs hand soap over his lips. His movements are swift: frightened.

Please don’t let him get it, Sapnap pleads silently, rubbing his boyfriend’s back while he watches. Not him. If Dream gets herpes from me, I will never forgive myself. His mind races, attempting to remind himself that viruses are not magical. Even the herpes virus requires several minutes to hijack the cells of a new host and infect them. My pills prevent cold sores, too, so I’m less contagious than I would be without medication.

Next Dream switches to using his toothbrush. Thoroughly he scrubs his teeth, gums, and the inside of his lips with toothpaste to disinfect his mouth.

“Okay, good. That’s good.” With shaking hands, Sapnap suggests, “I have some mouthwash, too. You can use it.” Turning on the light switch, he leaves the restroom to grab a shot glass from the kitchen, then he returns and opens a cabinet below the countertop. He pours mouthwash into the shot glass as Dream spits foamy toothpaste into the sink. “Here. Swish it around.”

“Thanks.” The visitor rinses his mouth with the mouthwash next, then he spits that into the sink, too. Once finished with the emergency cleaning, he grips the edge of the countertop to prop himself up. The scent of mint fills the restroom. “Ugh.”

“I’m so sorry, Dream.” Overwhelmed with guilt, Sapnap apologizes, “I can’t believe - I mean, I forgot. I don’t know how I forgot. I just wasn’t thinking at all -”

“Sapnap, stop,” Dream interrupts. He runs fingers through his messy hair. Witnessing the horror on Sapnap’s face, he offers a cynical laugh. “To be fair, if we were gonna date long-term, then I would’ve caught herpes at some point, anyway.”

“Don’t assume that,” Sapnap disagrees sharply. He refuses to believe it. “Herpes takes two weeks to appear on a test. After you go back to Florida, you should get tested, then we’ll know. If we’re careful like we were last night, then you won’t get it.”

The visitor’s expression remains skeptical before he shrugs, “Alright, fine. We’ll wait until we can know for sure, but for now, stop thinking about it. It’s done.”

Despite his unease, the host acknowledges, “Okay, we’ll wait until then.” Just calm down. Like he said, stop thinking about it. It’s done. Turning around to leave the restroom, he decides, “I’ll just - I don’t know - start breakfast, I guess.”

While Dream takes the opportunity to relieve himself in the toilet, Sapnap begins preparing a meal. Thankful for the distraction, he places a skillet on the kitchen stove and opens the refrigerator. First he reaches for the stick of butter and the carton of eggs before reminding himself that Dream is vegan. No omelets. Instead he opens the freezer, where he finds a half-full bag of frozen hashbrowns: perfect.

Pouring canola oil and the potatoes into the skillet, he seasons the food with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika until sizzling sounds and savory aromas waft into the air.

When Dream emerges from the restroom with freshly-washed hands, he approaches Sapnap’s side and dries his dripping fingers on the hand towel that hangs from the oven handle. He offers, “I’ll handle this. Go pee.”

“Cool, thanks.” Leaving his boyfriend to continue making breakfast, Sapnap slips into the restroom and closes the door. Less than a minute later, he emerges to discover that every kitchen cabinet in the apartment is now open.

Slowly stirring the frying hashbrowns with a spatula in one hand, Dream holds a box of granola in his other hand. After reading its ingredients, he purses his lips and returns the box to the cabinet.

“What are you making?” Passing his boyfriend, Sapnap peels sheets and blankets off the couch in the main living area.

“Well, I found a can of coconut milk, so I thought about making parfaits, but you don’t have a blender… or vegan granola.” Disappointed, Dream closes the cabinets.

“We could just eat the potatoes for now and go out for more food later,” Sapnap suggests as Dream wraps an arm around his waist. Standing together, they watch the potatoes for another minute before Sapnap pulls away to grab two small plates.

Sitting upon the couch, the new couple eats breakfast together. Only the soft sounds of chewing and forks scraping against ceramic interrupt the apartment’s gentle silence.

Dream finishes his food first, then he leans forward to place his dirty plate and fork onto the coffee table. Lowering his voice, he asks, “Do you want to tell your parents?”

“About what?”

“About us.”

“Us?” Startled, Sapnap states, “Dream, it’s been less than a day.”

“No, it hasn’t! We’ve known each other for more than a year.”

“Yeah, but we weren’t even talking for, like, half of that time.” Sapnap is reluctant to publicize his relationship so soon, yet he understands Dream’s reasoning. With a sigh, he relents, “But you’re right. If this is gonna be a long-term thing - which I hope it is - then I guess my parents will find out eventually.” Stacking his and Dream’s plates, he carries the dishes to the sink. “Sure. Let’s call them sometime.”

“Today?”

Sapnap’s hesitance surprises himself. He thought that he would be eager to share news of a relationship with the world, but months of insecurity have made him wary. This is too new. I’m not ready yet. “How about later? Let’s keep it private for now.”

“Okay.” Dream accepts the answer. Solemnly he nods, “We’ll keep it between us.”

Stepping lightly upon the floorboards, Sapnap sneaks into the bedroom. The curtains are still closed while sleeping forms occupy three out of four twin-sized mattresses. His roommates’ girlfriends are gone; they must have left after Dream and Sapnap fell asleep. Careful to avoid waking the other men, the host places his visitor’s backpack upon his work desk. Next he dumps their used bed sheets, blanket, and pillowcase into the laundry basket. Finally he slinks back out so the new couple can leave the apartment, slip into the hallway, and close the unit’s front door behind themselves.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Layered with scarves and thick coats, Dream and Sapnap take a tour around the graduate school campus. Walking along a frozen path, their boots crunch upon powdery ice crystals while hair pokes out from under their beanies. After a blizzard that lasted for several days, the sky is finally blue again. This morning, both men wear sunglasses to protect their eyes from the glare reflecting off the snowy ground. While they walk, the pair tell endless stories to compensate for the years they lived without a close confidante.

Dream’s warm breaths billow into the chilly air while he talks: “- so I looked at him, and this loser said to me, ‘Dream, I’m gonna slice open your throat’, so of course I was like, ‘Okay, well, good luck with that. Even if you stood on your toes, you wouldn’t be able to reach it!’ And oh man, let me tell you, he did not appreciate that -”

Chuckling to himself while he listens, Sapnap watches their stretching shadows meld together. He waits patiently for Dream to finish his story before he points up at a nearby building.

“There’s the business hall where I study.” With one thick mitten, he taps his boyfriend’s hand. “Let’s go this way. There’s a cafe just ten minutes from here.”

“Okay.” Dream’s teeth chatter. After living in Florida for his entire life, he is completely unaccustomed to Maine’s biting cold. For the dozenth time, he wipes his nose on his sleeve.

Despite the freezing temperature, Sapnap is full of energy and a determination to impress his boyfriend. The world has never seemed so full of hope before. Valentine’s Day may be over, but neither man can remember feeling this happy before.

Time passes swiftly. Dream and Sapnap spend all of February 15th together. The host guides his visitor through the city of Caribou, introducing his boyfriend to his favorite cafe, an art museum, and the local park. Dream nearly slips on melting ice a few times, but Sapnap always catches his arm to steady him. Even when the new couple does not talk, they are keenly aware of how special this moment is. Time is running out.

Neither Dream nor Sapnap are willing to discuss the dreaded topic of separation, but eventually the visitor mentions it.

“Sapnap?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to bother your roommates tonight.”

“You didn’t bother them last night.”

“I know, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“That’s impossible, Dream. You’re always welcome here.”

A pause. The visitor tries again.

“Sapnap, I need to go back to Florida soon: maybe even tonight.”

“Tonight?” Immediately the host tries to conjure a way to extend his visitor’s stay. “What if we just stayed in a hotel or something? It’s already 2pm. There might not be any flights from Maine to Florida until tomorrow.”

“The trains are always running, though,” Dream points out. Slightly frustrated, he stops walking and waits for Sapnap to stop, too, before he insists, “Sapnap, I know it’s only been one day, but you can’t act like if I leave, then this relationship will end. It won’t end. I’ll still be your boyfriend even if I’m in Florida.”

Another pause. Finally Sapnap breaks free from his denial: his refusal to accept that his lover cannot stay here. Dream’s expression is sympathetic but firm. He’s right. Swallowing his pride, he accepts defeat and stammers, “Okay.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, Dream allows his shoulders to slouch. “You mentioned there was a library in the city that has WiFi, right?”

Confused, Sapnap nods.

“Well, then, we’ll use the Wi-Fi there to buy a plane ticket. How about you drop me off at the train station tonight so I can fly back tomorrow? Once I’m back in Florida, I’ll text or call you. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing, except it’ll be long-distance.”

Despite his disappointment, Sapnap shrugs, “Yeah, we can do this long-distance.” He averts his gaze to watch a flock of pigeons that waddle along the city’s icy sidewalk. “Or at least, we’ll be long-distance until we break up or until one of us moves.” As these words exit his mouth, his heart sinks. “Except… I can’t move. I’m enrolled at the graduate school, and I can’t take classes remotely.”

Falling quiet again, Dream surveys the city’s warmly-dressed pedestrians, skidding cars, and the icicles that hang from street lamps. His expression is thoughtful as he assesses Caribou’s quaint atmosphere and the forested mountains in the distance. Sapnap assumes that his boyfriend is simply observing their surroundings until Dream’s gaze returns to him. With new determination, the visitor resolves, “Then I’ll move.”

“What?” Sapnap’s thoughts freeze, then they burst through his head in a flurry. Dream wasn’t just looking around at the city. He was wondering if this could be his new home! Blinking fast, the host stammers, “You would… do that?” He does not know what to say. He feels like the door to a new world just opened in front of him… and this one will not slam closed in his face.

“I mean, yeah?” Raising a nonchalant eyebrow, Dream reminds him, “I can run a blog from anywhere. As long as I have a kitchen and a computer, I can work and publish from Florida or from Maine. We could live in an apartment near the graduate school, just the two of us.”

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Sapnap processes the idea. Hoping his boyfriend will not regret this generous offer, he asks, “Dream, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I mean, Maine is kind of boring.”

“Okay.”

“There isn’t much interesting stuff here.”

“Right.”

“You would be pretty far from your family, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Also, it’s a completely different climate from Florida.”

“Very true.”

“And we have opposite diets, so we would never agree on what to make for dinner.”

“That makes sense.”

“Plus, we’ve only been together for, like, a day.”

“We were already friends before, though.”

“Dream.”

“Sapnap.”

“You literally don’t need to move in with me.”

“I know, but I want to be with you.” Calm but insistent, Dream assures, “I know you’re worried, but I don’t want to miss this chance.”

These words echo in Sapnap’s head, reminding him of the months he spent wallowing in regret. He remembers missed chances. Conflicted, he considers every reason that he should argue further. Maybe Dream’s parents would be upset if their son moved away. Maybe there will not be any vacant apartments in the area. Maybe rent will be too expensive. Maybe Sapnap’s parents will disapprove of his impulsive decision to move in with a man who he barely knows. Maybe Dream and Sapnap will break up soon after they move in together. There are so many reasons why living with Dream would lead to trouble, and there is only one reason to live with him. Sapnap loves him. Declining Dream’s offer would be the safest decision… but I don’t want to miss chances anymore.

Without any more protests, Sapnap falls quiet. Searching his boyfriend’s warm teal gaze, he relents. “Well, Dream, if you’re okay with everything that comes with it…”

“I am.”

“I would love for you to live with me.” Sapnap deflates, finally releasing his insecurities in a long exhale.

“Then I’ll live with you.” Happiness radiates from the visitor until he wraps his arms around his host for a tight hug. This embrace will compensate for all of the time they will spend apart until they can finally reunite.

“I love you so much, Dream.” Sapnap’s throat chokes. Tears of gratitude fill his eyes.

Ignoring the curious glances from other pedestrians, Dream presses his cheek close to whisper, “I love you, too, Sapnap.”

Even when Sapnap reminds himself that his separation from Dream will be only temporary, an empty void still opens in his chest when he drops off his boyfriend at the train station. Tonight Dream will ride the train only until Massachusetts, where he will transfer to an airport for a late-night flight back to Florida.

Beneath a darkened sky and glowing street lamps, the new couple enters the same building that they left one day ago. After Valentine’s Day, the train station is much less crowded, so there is little background chatter to prevent Dream and Sapnap from hearing each other as they walk to the correct track. An automated message on the loudspeaker announces that the train en route to Massachusetts will arrive on-time in 23 minutes.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot.” Sapnap shoves both hands into his pockets, standing beside his boyfriend on a cement platform, overlooking the train tracks.

“Me, too, but I’ll be back soon,” Dream promises. He lifts his hands to remove his beanie, mittens, and coat before his boyfriend stops him.

“No, keep those with you.” Pulling the beanie back down onto Dream’s head, Sapnap explains, “You’ll be cold if you don’t take them, and you’ll bring them back when you move, anyway!”

“Alright, alright, thanks.” With a light-hearted eye roll, Dream slips his mittens back onto his hands. Then, as the sign above reaches 20 minutes remaining, his smile fades. Clearing his throat, he murmurs, “Sapnap, I know you were worried about us, but honestly, even if this doesn’t work out in the end -” He waits until Sapnap looks away from the countdown above their heads to continue, “Even if we break up at some point and we move on to other people or something, I won’t regret this time with you.”

Touched, Sapnap agrees, “Right, yeah. No matter what, I’m glad that you - that we -” Unsure of how to finish the sentence, he trails off.

Dream understands anyway. He completes, “That we both found someone for us.”

19 minutes pass too quickly. Harsh lights flash in the distance, slicing through the soft nighttime air. The cement platform begins to rumble, quaking under the pedestrians’ booted feet. Brakes screech and a horn blares as the train arrives. Instinctively everyone steps back, allowing the massive machine plenty of space before it squeals to a halt. The countdown disappears from the sign above the track; the words “now boarding” replace it. Sliding doors open; most passengers remain on the train, so the people waiting on the platform climb onboard.

“Well, I guess that’s all.” Dream’s tone is pleasant, but his smile is forced.

“I hope you have a safe ride.” Sapnap’s response is flat: unenthusiastic. He appreciated every moment that Dream was here with him in Maine, yet still he feels nostalgic for the past 24 hours.

Sensing the displeasure that taints their mood, Dream touches Sapnap’s shoulder. The contact is small yet significant; he does not need to speak to communicate his feelings.

He’ll come back. “Goodbye, Dream.” Please come back.

“Good night, Sapnap.” Removing his hand from his boyfriend’s elbow, Dream adjusts the straps of his backpack and steps away. After meeting Sapnap’s gaze over his shoulder for one last time, he climbs through the train’s sliding doors and ascends the steps.

Hungrily Sapnap searches the train’s dusty glass windows. Several seconds after his lover disappears from view, he sees the figure of a man creeping through the train car, barely visible in the low light. Forcing a smile, Sapnap waves. Faintly he sees a hand waving back.

Then the train doors close with a loud hiss. Machine gears begin to pump, turning the huge wheels below them. The horn blares again, sending a shiver through the lone man who lingers upon the cement platform.

Feeling cold for the first time since yesterday, Sapnap watches as the train’s speed increases. Seconds later, the last car departs, blasting him with a hot gust of acrid air before darkness shrouds the machine and the platform stops rumbling under his feet. Focused upon the slowly-shrinking red lights in the distance, Sapnap sends a silent message: I miss you already.

Then he turns away. Barely aware of his surroundings, he crosses the train station and returns to the parking lot. By the time he unlocks his car and slumps into the driver’s seat, exhaustion has overwhelmed him.

“Alright, I - it’s fine,” he whispers, trying to reassure himself. “Everything is okay. We’ve just got to, uh, get home. Yeah, we’ve gotta go home. That’s it.”

Powering on his engine, Sapnap grips the steering wheel. The stench of old, tattered upholstery makes him nauseous, so once he drives out of the parking spot and onto the city street, he rolls down the windows.

This is far from the first time that Sapnap has been alone, but he has never felt so lonely before. Like Dream said, just don’t think about it. Recalling his visitor's empathetic advice, he attempts to calm himself. I just need to wait. We just need time to make sure this will work. He doesn’t care about my herpes. He loves me.

Ultimately Sapnap’s efforts are successful. When his car reaches the parking lot at his apartment complex, his hands do not tremble anymore. No tears cloud his vision. The storm will not win this fight. Buzzing with triumph rather than fear, Sapnap parks his car in its usual spot and releases a long exhale. “Okay, we’re good. We’re here. It’s okay.” Powering off the engine, he slumps back against the driver’s seat. Finally calm again, he stares ahead for a few moments… before his smartphone vibrates with a notification.

Assuming that Dream must have texted him, he slips his hand into his coat pocket. However, when Sapnap unlocks the screen, he discovers that the notification did not come from his boyfriend.

1 new message from George Navy

Sapnap’s heart drops. Breath hitches in his throat as memories flood his mind. He remembers his former roommate, his first close confidante, his friend. Almost one year has passed since their final interaction, when George moved out of their university apartment to start intensive treatment at the hospital. He was so sick that he could not even attend his own graduation.

Sapnap’s thumb hovers over the notification, debating whether or not to tap it. Dizzy with terror, he prepares for the worst. Will this message be from George’s family, informing him that his friend lost the battle against his bacterial infection? Will it be an invitation to attend George’s funeral?

Holding his breath, Sapnap taps the notification. Eyes fixed upon the screen, he watches his messaging application load before it displays his conversation with George. Seconds feel like hours as the message loads. Why is it taking so long?

Desperate to learn his friend’s fate, Sapnap is startled when he discovers the message was not a text, but rather an image. He taps the attachment to expand it.

Beneath cold white hospital lights, George lays on a stretcher in the center of the image. A blue hospital gown, wristbands, IVs, an oxygen mask, and other machinery hide most of his body from the camera’s view. He looks horribly gaunt and sickly, barely recognizable with skinny arms, grayish skin, and sunken eyes… but his eyes are open. Glazed and glassy, a deep umber gaze stares into the camera. The corners of George’s eyes are wrinkled, betraying his faint smile behind the oxygen mask. Beside his waist, his bony fingers form a weak thumbs-up. He is alive!

Numb with astonishment, Sapnap minimizes the picture and returns to his text conversation with George. Now more messages wait at the bottom, sent only seconds ago.

George: hi you idiot
George: treatment was a success

These messages finally drag Sapnap from his stupor. For the first time, he can recall memories of his friend without the uncertainty of death overshadowing them. Fingers skittering over the smartphone’s keyboard, Sapnap responds with the only question his brain can conjure.

Sapnap: GEORGE???
Sapnap: HOW ARE YOU

Amazingly his former roommate’s sense of humor is still intact, too.

George: i feel like i got hit by multiple high-speed trains, but i did not die, so i think i’m the real winner here

Just like Dream and Sapnap promised, the new couple chats daily even with hundreds of kilometers separating them. Every afternoon, Sapnap describes his classes and assignments while Dream relays the progress of his blog and recipes. Sharing voice calls and video chats does not compare to seeing each other in person, but both men are thankful for the comforting familiarity whenever they talk.

Despite their happiness, however, not all of Sapnap’s thoughts have been happy. Worry haunts him. His kiss with Dream on the couch was accidental, but he still regrets it. Once the other man returned to Florida, Sapnap advised him to schedule an appointment for a test.

Three weeks after Dream’s departure from Maine, Sapnap finishes one of his business lectures and checks his smartphone while exiting the classroom. Usually he reads notifications while walking, but this time he pauses in the middle of the hallway. Reading the message at the top of his smartphone’s screen, he scoots quickly to one side of the hallway so other graduate students can pass him.

Dream: i got my herpes test result back

Sapnap’s breath hitches in his throat. Apprehensive, he types a question.

Sapnap: what was the result?

Three dots appear at the bottom of their conversation. Seconds feel like hours as he watches, unblinking. Then the answer comes.

Dream: negative!
Dream: i dont have it

Weak with relief, Sapnap slumps. His back slides down against the yellow-painted wall before he catches himself. No words could possibly convey his joy, but he tries to express it anyway.

Sapnap: i’m so glad <3

Slipping his smartphone into his coat pocket, he walks with a bounce in his step along the rest of the hallway. Even when he steps outside and freezing March winds blast his face, they cannot steal the warmth in his heart.

Today it is Sapnap’s turn to move out early. His three roommates are surprised, but definitely not upset, when they discover cardboard boxes stacked beside the apartment’s front door. Ironically their three girlfriends are the ones who are disappointed; Camila, Ivy, and Katherine take turns giving Sapnap warm hugs and wishes of good luck when they learn that he will leave soon. Camila makes Sapnap promise to say hello to Dream for her; he promises he will tell him that she said hi.

After Sapnap shoves all of his luggage into the trunk of his car, he returns his key to the landlord and leaves the apartment complex for the last time. Driving across a city of thawing snow and dripping icicles, he smiles until his cheeks ache.

Actually Sapnap is not moving far away. He is still enrolled at his graduate school, so he must stay in Caribou, Maine, relatively close to the campus. Rather than living with multiple strangers, he plans to live with one very special man.

Across the country, Dream undertook an even more daunting task. Yesterday he rented a small trailer, attached it to his car, and began a roadtrip of 2800 kilometers from Florida to Maine. He will arrive tomorrow; glancing down at the clock on his car’s dashboard, Sapnap estimates that his boyfriend must be in North Carolina by now.

Move-in day is busy, but that does not bother Sapnap. After meeting with his new landlord and receiving his keys, he spends several hours transferring his belongings from his car to his future home. The unit is a studio apartment with a small kitchen, a tiny restroom, and a single closet. There is no furniture, but that does not bother Sapnap, either. Shoving cardboard boxes against white-painted walls, he clears the hardwood floor so he can drag his twin-size mattress across the unit and drop it in the corner. Unpacking kitchen supplies, toiletries, a folding chair, and a small wooden desk, Sapnap decorates the apartment. Sweat soaks his neck and underarms as he drapes bed sheets, a blanket, and a pillow over his mattress.

By the time when Sapnap finishes removing items from boxes, the sun has already drifted below the horizon. Turning on the heater, the resident cooks his first meal in the new home; it will be one of only two meals that he will eat alone. At night, he stares at the ceiling, buzzing with anticipation even while laying in bed until he finally calms down enough to sleep.

The next morning, Sapnap wakes up early, before his alarm is supposed to ring. He is tempted to skip today’s business lecture so he can be here to greet his boyfriend, but since Dream has not texted yet today, he decides reluctantly to attend.

After class, with a new parking pass on his car’s dashboard, Sapnap drives home to discover an update from his boyfriend on his smartphone.

Dream: IN AUGUSTA

Augusta is Maine’s capital city. He’s close. Eagerly Sapnap parks his car in the residents’ lot underground, then he sprints up three flights of stairs to drop off his backpack at the unit. Panting from the exercise, he washes his hands in the sink, dries them on a paper towel, and sips from his water bottle before rushing from the apartment with his keys again.

Sapnap does not stop until he reaches the cement curb on the edge of the street. Standing before the apartment complex, he dons a pair of sunglasses and runs fingers through his hair to tidy it. His underarms sweat and his heart pounds as he waits for Dream’s arrival. Barely able to stand still, he shifts his weight from foot to foot and squints in the sunlight.

For twenty minutes, Sapnap scans the horizon hungrily, searching the street for a car with a trailer behind it. A gentle breeze ruffles his hair. Stark mountain ranges outline the horizon. Spruce needles rustle above, absorbing the spring sunlight and filling the air with clean oxygen. Maine’s rocky terrain sharply contrasts Florida’s humid marshlands, but Sapnap hopes that Dream will love it.

Swerving around a street corner in the distance, a vehicle appears with a trailer rental behind it. Instantly Sapnap perks up, waving his arms in the air so his boyfriend will not miss him.

Obscure behind his tinted windshield and sunglasses, Dream smiles. He lifts one hand from the steering wheel to return Sapnap’s wave.

Bouncing with energy, Sapnap leads his boyfriend on foot through the parking lot toward the staircase that leads to their apartment unit.

Finally the vehicle slows to a stop. Pale green paint glistens harshly in the sunlight while heat radiates from its reflective side windows. Dream turns off the engine, opens the driver-side door, and steps out.

“Hey, Sapnap!” Despite his scrunched expression, the newcomer’s greeting is cheerful.

“Dream!” Thrilled, Sapnap dashes forward. The force of his hug thrusts Dream against the side of his car, forcing the air from his lungs. Equally touch-starved, the newcomer wraps arms around his boyfriend to return the embrace.

“Holy sh*t, it’s so good to see you.”

“I’m glad to be here. Thanks for leading me.” Pulling away to catch his breath, Dream glances between his trailer of stuff and the staircase. Placing both hands upon his hips, he announces, “Alright, let’s move this sh*t.”

Together the new couple moves in. In the afternoon, Dream returns the emptied trailer rental to the moving company while Sapnap carries his boyfriend’s belongings into the apartment unit. Soon he discovers that Dream brought a plethora of cooking supplies to their new home: a blender, a toaster, a microwave, an air fryer, a deep fryer, cutting boards, and many other useful items. Upon Dream’s return, the newcomer remarks that the unit is “actually not too bad”, and that he imagined their living situation could be much worse.

After recycling used boxes and visiting a local restaurant for dinner, the new couple prepares for their first night as roommates. Like Sapnap, Dream brought his own twin-size mattress; he placed it beside the opposite wall. Mutually the men agree to sleep apart to prevent another accidental kiss like the one they shared in Sapnap’s old apartment. Physical distance is sensible, but when the pair change into their night clothes and settle into their separate beds, Sapnap wishes for more.

When Dream turns off the lamp, darkness floods the apartment. Fulfilled promises linger beside unspoken thoughts. The air is soft like velvet, yet it is electric with longing.

Dream and Sapnap spend several minutes laying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling above their heads. They do not need to discuss leaving or loneliness, so they do not talk at all. Sapnap recognizes that it is okay if he cannot sleep directly beside his lover; his dissatisfaction fades. I’m just glad I have him. Flipping onto his side, he faces the wall, content to listen to his boyfriend’s slow breaths… until the other man sits up in bed and throws off his blanket.

“Ugh, this is f*cking ridiculous.” Dream’s scoff is so quiet that Sapnap assumes he was not supposed to hear it. He continues to lay still in bed even as footsteps stagger across the floor. “Hey, Sapnap? Are you still awake?”

Realizing that Dream actually was talking to him, Sapnap turns his head to look up. His boyfriend’s outline is barely visible against the ceiling. “Yeah, why?”

“Can I sleep in your bed?”

“You mean, like, you want to trade?”

“No, I want to be with you.”

“Oh.” Sapnap’s heart flutters at Dream’s blunt honesty. “Um, yeah, sure.” Rolling down his blankets, he shifts aside to make space.

“Thanks.” Crouching, Dream crawls onto the twin-size bed to join Sapnap beneath the blanket.

Questions rush through Sapnap’s mind. Did Dream forget that Sapnap almost infected him with a kiss? Does Dream believe he will inevitably get infected anyway? Is this an impulsive, reckless request that Dream will regret in the morning? Sapnap remembers the panic they felt, standing at the kitchen sink and wondering if Dream had just received an incurable disease… or at least, he remembers the panic he felt. Dream did not panic; he could have reeled with disgust, yet he coaxed Sapnap to calm down instead.

I don’t need to act like I’m a biohazard anymore.

“Sapnap?” Dream’s whisper breaks the silence. His breath ruffles Sapnap’s hair. “We can turn up the heat if you’re cold.”

“What?” Only when Sapnap processes the offer does he realize he is shivering. Trying to regain control over his body, he mutters, “No thanks, I’m warm enough.”

“Okay.” Unaware of his boyfriend’s internal conflict, Dream hums with satisfaction. Wrapping one arm around his lover’s waist, he pulls Sapnap closer. Together the couple spoons, cuddling comfortably together. Dream is exhausted from his long drive; he succumbs to slumber first.

Sapnap lays awake for several minutes longer, disbelieving the realization he has reached. Last year, he wished for things to be better someday… but now that someday has arrived. Today is the first of those better days that he yearned to see. With two heads on his pillow and an arm draped over his waist, Sapnap would not want to be anywhere else.

Before moving to Maine, Dream created content for his blog alone. Now he will host livestreams and record videos while Sapnap is attending his business lectures on weekdays. Today is Sunday - a day without classes - so instead of filming, Dream plans new recipes that he can prepare on-camera later.

Now the vegan blogger stands in the kitchen, pulling two objects from the refrigerator and placing them on the kitchen countertop. Across the unit, the graduate student sits on his twin-size mattress with his back leaning against the wall; he balances a laptop upon his thighs.

“Hey, Sapnap?”

“Yeah?” Usually the student would scowl with annoyance at an interruption, but he cannot muster any anger toward Dream.

“Would you like to try something?” Dream lifts a small ceramic plate, beckoning his boyfriend to approach.

“Sure.” Saving the progress on his research essay and closing his laptop, Sapnap stands from the mattress and stretches, relishing the energy that returns to his muscles after sitting for so long. Strolling to the kitchen, he asks, “Whatcha got this time?”

“Well, these have been chilling in the refrigerator for a few hours. They don’t jiggle anymore, so I think they’re ready.” When Sapnap skirts around the kitchen countertop, Dream gestures to two pie-like desserts in aluminum foil pans. “Here, I’ll cut you a small piece of each and you can tell me what you think.”

“Alright.” Sapnap enjoys the idea that he has unintentionally become the blogger’s test audience. Pointing a fork at the ceramic plate, which presents a narrow slice of each dessert, he questions, “What’s this first one here?”

“It’s vegan cheesecake. Try it!”

Skeptical, Sapnap cuts a bite, sniffs it, then eats it. Immediately he hates everything about it; his face scrunches with distaste. Forcing himself to swallow, he admits, “Dream, I’m gonna be honest. That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

Dream tries a bite next. The abomination does not offend him as much; he acknowledges simply, “Hm, yeah, it’s not the best dessert I’ve made. Maybe I just added too much silken tofu.”

“You put tofu in this sh*t?”

“Well, the cheesecake texture needs to come from something!” Dream defends. “But fine. Here, try this other one, too.”

“What’s in this one?”

“It’s a cashew-cake.” Expectantly Dream nudges the ceramic plate closer to Sapnap. “Forget about the first vegan cheesecake. Try this one instead.”

Reluctantly Sapnap tries a spoonful of the second dessert slice… and discovers it is the exact same cheesecake, but with cashew cheese instead of silken tofu. “Ugh, that’s nasty.”

“But you didn’t make a gross face this time,” Dream notices. “Is it better?”

“It’s, like, 1 percent better,” Sapnap admits grudgingly.

“So technically, it’s an improvement,” Dream concludes, satisfied. He covers both of the abominations with plastic wrap before returning them to the refrigerator. “Thanks for testing these out! I really appreciate your honest opinions, even if they’re negative. I trust your judgment, so I’ll adjust both of the recipes next time to see if I can improve them.” Clapping his hands once, he faces his boyfriend again. “Alright, that was all!”

The blogger has released him, yet Sapnap’s feet feel stuck to the floor. He searches Dream’s gaze, unflinching despite the horrible aftertaste in his throat. Dream spoke without much thought, but his words “I trust your judgment” still echo in Sapnap’s mind.

“Sap?” Concerned, Dream tilts his head. Uncertain about how to interpret his boyfriend’s gaping expression, he guesses, “Were the desserts really that bad?”

Sapnap opens his mouth, but no words emerge. He spent hours making those cheesecakes only for me to call them gross after two bites… but Dream is self-confident and modest enough to trust his judgment. He accepted Sapnap’s criticism not as an attack, but as an encouragement to improve. I wish I could do that, too.

Sapnap does not answer Dream’s question. Without thinking, he blurts, “I want to tell my parents.”

Startled, Dream blinks. “About what?”

“About us.”

“Oh.” The blogger’s gaze brightens with understanding.

“Can we tell them?”

“Sure!” Shoving both hands into his pockets, Dream follows Sapnap, who leads him to the twin-size bed where he left his laptop. “How much do they know?”

“All they know is that I moved to a new apartment with a roommate,” Sapnap explains. Powering on his laptop, he sinks down onto his mattress. “Would you mind staying off-camera until I tell them?”

“That’s fine,” Dream shrugs nonchalantly. Observing Sapnap’s determination, he wonders, “Are you worried about what they’ll think?”

“No.”

The blogger senses the lie, but he remains quiet. Unlike Dream, Sapnap cares deeply about others’ perceptions of him.

The graduate student sends a message to his parents. Within minutes, they confirm their availability for a video call. While the chatting application loads, he runs self-conscious fingers through his hair before intertwining them in his lap. His heart pounds inexplicably fast when the video call loads and his parents’ faces appear on the screen.

“Nick!” Sapnap’s mother greets him first while his father waves shyly from the back. The older couple sits beside the dining room table in their house, where Sapnap joined his family for holiday dinners back in December. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! You look lovely today!”

“Hi, thanks, Mom and Dad,” Sapnap greets, forcing a smile as his throat dries. Why am I so nervous? “How are you?”

“We’re both wonderful,” his mother purrs happily from the foreground. Eagerly skipping the rest of the pleasantries, she switches the subject back to her son. “You texted and said that you had some big news for us.” Squeezing her husband’s arm beside his wristwatch, she adds, “Your father and I can’t wait to hear it!”

“This isn’t some sort of scam to ask us for money, is it?” His father asks, lifting a suspicious eyebrow in the background.

“It isn’t,” Sapnap shakes his head. “I just wanted to introduce you to my roommate.” The word ‘roommate’ tastes bitter on his tongue. Glancing away from the laptop screen, which pours glowing light over his lap, Sapnap makes eye contact with Dream. His boyfriend offers a supportive nod.

“Who’s your roommate?” His mother asks curiously. “I hope you get along well together, considering you don’t have your own bedrooms. Were Maine’s rent prices really that expensive?”

“No, rent prices weren’t the problem. Actually, we chose to live in a studio apartment, with no separate bedrooms.”

“Why the hell would you choose that?” Sapnap’s father gawks with disbelief. “Didn’t you pay attention to all of the horror stories I told you about my roommates when I was in university?”

“I did, but this case is a little different.” Sapnap’s smile falters as he reaches the revelation. “I just wanted to tell you… I found someone.”

“Oh?” His mother’s expression brightens further with elation. “A special someone?”

“Yeah.” Sapnap’s foot twitches with anxiety. Dream places a hand upon it to steady him. “And, uh, I wanted to tell you about it just to - just so you know because I really like… this person.” Hearing the sentence’s clumsy end, he winces.

“Nick, you look kind of worried,” his mother notices. Sympathetic, she asks, “Do you feel sick?”

“I would tell you to lay down, but I see your pillow behind your back,” his father comments in agreement. “You must be in bed already.”

“I’m alright,” Sapnap lies. “It’s just that the person who I found - well, they might not be someone you’re expecting.”

Both wary and innocent, his father prompts, “Who would we expect?”

“I don’t know, like…” Sapnap’s ankle trembles again; Dream strokes it comfortingly. “I should warn you that this person is - well, he’s a guy.” Once the truth exits his lips, the rest pours out, too. “He’s a dude like me, from the university in Florida. His name is Dream. He has a job, too: he’s a vegan blogger online, so he makes vegan recipes and stuff -”

Abruptly his father interrupts, “Nick. Stop.”

“Yeah?” Sapnap’s adrenaline spikes. Dream’s hand stops stroking his ankle.

“Just… no. Absolutely not.” The older man scowls with disapproval. “Please tell me you didn’t just say those words.” Beside him, Sapnap’s mother listens quietly, uncertain about what her husband will say. Her smile becomes tight-lipped: forced.

“Which words?” Sapnap’s chest tightens, leaving his breaths shallow and weak. He promised Dream that he would not allow hom*ophobes to bother him, but he was sure that his parents would not be part of that group! Was I wrong again?

“You’re telling me that my son - my boy - is dating a f*cking vegan? You’re telling me that my little carnivore adored omelets on Saturday mornings, hot dogs in the summer, and barbecue ribs during basketball games… yet he got together with a PETA-pusher?” Without waiting for his son to respond, Sapnap’s father continues, “You could have dated literally anyone else! If this blogger guy tries to convince you to leave all of that behind and change your diet - no matter how handsome he is - I’ll f*cking end his life!”

“Uh…” Nevermind.

Relieved to learn that Sapnap’s parents are not hom*ophobic, but rather simply anti-vegan, Dream flops onto the mattress. Crawling until he enters the camera’s view, he greets his boyfriend’s parents. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Houston, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

While Sapnap’s father scoffs with defeat and rolls his eyes, grumbling about how disappointed he will be if Sapnap becomes a vegan, his wife leans in to wave enthusiastically. “Anyway, ignoring dietary choices, it’s so nice to meet you, too, Dream! I never thought I would see Nick so nervous to introduce someone to us. If you’re not aware, I’m fairly certain this is his first serious relationship.” She raises her eyebrows at Sapnap for confirmation. Embarrassed, he nods. While his mother smirks with amusem*nt at his flushed cheeks, her tone is soft and sentimental. “I suppose he must’ve been scared of missing his chance with you, so he procrastinated telling us until he was certain about everything.” Perceiving her son more accurately than he perceives himself, she rests her elbow on the dining room table and her jaw in her palm. She concludes approvingly, “If that’s true, then Nick must really love you, Dream.”

“Yes, he does.” Touched by the acceptance of Sapnap’s mother, Dream reaches to hold his boyfriend’s elbow. Squeezing it gently, he clarifies, “We love each other.”

Next Sapnap’s mother gestures toward his father, whose irritated scowl has transformed into a neutral tolerance. “Don’t worry about grumpy old Mr. Houston here, either, Dream. He and I are incredibly thankful that our son found exactly who he needed.” Her eyes flash with mischief; she teases, “Especially after he spent so many years worrying that no one at his schools would ever have a crush on him.”

“Aw, why?” Dream nudges his boyfriend light-heartedly.

“Oh, there were a few reasons.” Drumming her manicured nails upon the tabletop, Sapnap’s mother recalls memories from her son’s childhood. “Nick had trouble making friends sometimes, especially after a bicycle accident when he was younger, but he was also so scared that people would call him ugly.”

“Ugly?” Dream echoes, baffled.

“Oh, yes. Sometimes he even refused to go outside, even to school or the grocery store!” The older woman’s fondness transforms into remorse. “My poor Nick used to get acne on his lips every month or so. It looked painful, and I felt terrible for him, especially since neither his father nor I ever got acne on our lips when we were teenagers.” Without waiting for either man to respond, she continues with an air of distraction, “I don’t have many pictures of Nick from that time because he was really quite camera-shy, but let me see if I have anything to show you.”

Sapnap cringes to himself when his smartphone vibrates. He does not need to check the notification to know that his mother must have found a picture of his teenage self with lip acne. Ugh, I almost forgot I had that.

“Anyway, boys, it was such a pleasure to hear from you both.” Ignoring her son’s mild embarrassment, Sapnap’s mother says her goodbyes. “Nick, we’re so glad that you’re happy, and Dream, we look forward to seeing you again!” Sending a sly glance to her husband, she finishes, “No matter what you like to eat.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Houston,” Dream beams. Waving goodbye in return, he salutes, “Have a good night!”

“You, too!” Then Sapnap’s mother hangs up the call, leaving the couple to bask in a comfortable silence… or at least, Dream is comfortable.

Closing the laptop screen, he announces, “Well, that went great! To be fair, your dad did seem annoyed about me being vegan - I’ve never heard the term ‘PETA-pusher’ before - but holy crap, I’m so glad he wasn’t hom*ophobi-” Abruptly the blogger trails off. “Sapnap?”

The graduate student is frozen beside him, staring silently at the image from his mother. Gripping his smartphone, he does not hear his name come from Dream’s mouth. He feels like he is suffocating.

This picture is old, from when Sapnap was fourteen years old. He was supposed to attend a fancy event with his family, so his father bought a small suit for him from a clothing store. That was the first time Sapnap wore something from the men’s department rather than the children’s section. The suit’s fabric was beige, rough against the bare skin of his neck and wrists. Wearing a suit made the fourteen-year-old Sapnap wish that adulthood - and control over his own life - would come sooner. In the picture, he stood before the pastel-colored wall of his old house. When his mother held the camera at his eye level and beckoned for him to look, she remarked that he resembled “such a polite, handsome gentleman.” This compliment was ironic, considering the bitter scowl upon her son’s face. When Sapnap sees his past self, he recognizes the looming storm in those hostile eyes. He senses the insecurities that haunted this boy who no longer exists. However, it is the angle of his face in this picture that made him freeze. His head is turned slightly sideways in a futile attempt to hide the hideous scab on his lower lip. This boy convinced himself that girls did not like him because of ugly scabs like these. Conveniently he ignored the fact that his sulking, argumentative personality was what actually made him unappealing.

Looking over Sapnap’s shoulder at the smartphone’s screen, Dream fails to understand why this picture is so disturbing. He attempts to joke, “Oh, you look so angsty there! With some eyeliner and stilts, you might look like an emo rockstar.” When Sapnap still does not respond, Dream wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Murmured close to Sapnap’s ear, the concerned question drags him from the abyss. “Dream, do you see that weird mark on my lip there?” Finger trembling, he points.

“I do. Is that the ‘lip acne’ your mom was talking about?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t acne.”

“It wasn’t?” Blinking with confusion, Dream leans forward to view the image more closely. “I mean, that makes sense. It doesn’t look like acne to me. If I had to guess, it looks more like -”

“A cold sore,” Sapnap completes flatly. A strange melancholy dazes him. “They were cold sores. People with herpes get them.”

“Oh.” Sheepishly Dream rubs Sapnap’s back, guilty that he reminded his boyfriend about his disease. Clearing his throat self-consciously, he apologizes, “I’m sorry. I thought you only got herpes recently. I didn’t realize you were born with it.”

“I wasn’t born with it. It was from an accident.” Unwilling to dwell upon the darkness in his past for any longer, Sapnap powers off his smartphone and leans his head upon his boyfriend’s shoulder. Unintentionally he quotes Dream’s own words about his hepatitis B when he mutters, “But whatever. All of that is over now. It’s done.”

Everything will be okay. This time, both Dream and Sapnap finally believe it.

Eleven months of confinement to a hospital room created a powerful wanderlust within George’s heart. Once he completed the physical therapy required to stand and walk again, he requested to visit Sapnap in Maine. Initially the graduate student hesitated, offering to visit Florida instead so George would not need to spend money on an airplane ticket. However, his former roommate insisted he was eager to travel, so the pair scheduled a meetup in the city of Caribou.

Lush greenery has replaced the winter snow, covering the landscape with new wildflowers. Aster, honeysuckle, and milkweed paint the ground with bright bursts of color. Honeybees and birds swoop through blue skies above the city.

Finally able to be outside without thick coats, beanies, and mittens, Dream and Sapnap left their apartment wearing button-up shirts, dress slacks, and sunglasses. Now they stand upon a concrete curb, overlooking the parking lot of a shopping center. Beyond rows of parked cars, shoppers stroll into the main mall to explore its overpriced perfume and fashion stores.

Near the shopping center’s outer boundary, Dream and Sapnap survey the pedestrians who travel from the parking lot to the row of restaurants that reside along the outskirts. In fifteen minutes, George’s rideshare is supposed to drop him off somewhere nearby. What will he think about me now?

“Dream, how does my hair look?”

“Oh, come on, Sapnap,” Dream scolds playfully. “He won’t care what your hair looks like.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna look like trash… or smell like trash!” Self-conscious, Sapnap lifts the shirt fabric near his underarms and sniffs it, hoping he does not smell like sweat. “I haven’t seen this dude in years! I want to make a good impression.”

“Okay, but if you seriously believe George will judge you just because you smell like sh*t, then that means he isn’t your friend… but he is your friend, so like I said, he won’t care!”

Sapnap is dubious, but he does not argue further. Instead he continues to search the parking lot for his friend.

“Hey.” Dream nudges his elbow. Subtly he points toward a man using a crosswalk in the distance. “Is that him?”

“Who?” Sapnap follows his finger, then his shoulders slump with disappointment. “Oh. That’s not George.”

“Oh.” Seconds later, Dream points at a different man, who rummages through his car’s trunk. “What about him?”

“No, that’s not George, either.”

“How about the guy walking on that sidewalk?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then, he’s gotta be that dude over there -”

“Dream.” Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Sapnap sighs, “I’m really stressed about this, so can you just - I don’t know - wait, please? It’s been a while, but I’ll know him when I see him.”

“Alright, whatever.”

More time passes. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Sapnap checks the clock on his smartphone. 10:28am. Only two minutes remain until the scheduled meetup time, so he slips the device back into his pocket. Beside him, Dream opens his mouth to say something, presumably to point out another random guy: a small man with narrow shoulders, a blue polo shirt, and a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Barely paying attention, Sapnap scans the man’s face and looks away. That can’t be him, either.

Then the stranger shifts his trajectory.

Advancing toward Dream and Sapnap, the stranger steps off the parking lot’s asphalt and onto the concrete curb. Sunlight from above and behind outlines his dark brown hair with a glowing halo, glinting off his gold-rimmed sunglasses. Sapnap stares with bewilderment, wondering why this random guy just approached him and Dream… until the stranger lifts his sunglasses.

“What, you’re not even saying hi?” He grins with mingled amusem*nt and disbelief. “You just looked directly at me - looked deep into my eyes - and then you just looked away!”

Sapnap’s jaw drops. This is not a stranger at all! He is -

“George?” Shocked, he staggers backward.

Smirking with triumph, Dream teases, “Sapnap, I saw him literally, like, a minute ago! I would’ve warned you, too, if you had let me.”

Speechless, Sapnap faces his former roommate. No gas mask, no rubber gloves, and no dark marks under his eyes. I didn’t even recognize him!

“Well, hello there.” Witnessing Sapnap’s amazement is the most entertaining thing George has witnessed all day. Spreading his arms, he offers, “I can do physical contact now if you want a -”

Before George can finish his sentence, Sapnap rushes forward, nearly tackling his former roommate to the ground in a tight, desperate hug: their first-ever embrace.

“I was so worried about you, George.”

“I know. I missed you, too, Sapnap.” When they separate and Sapnap pulls away, George fans himself with the collar of his polo shirt. “Ah, well, that was refreshing. I haven’t been crushed by a trash compactor in a while, so I appreciate your help with reliving that experience.” Next George greets his other host: “And you must be Dream! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Accepting the newcomer’s handshake, Dream responds, “It’s amazing to meet you, too, George.” When the handshake ends, he jerks his thumb toward the restaurant behind the group. “If you’re ready, I’m super hungry, so let’s go inside to eat.”

“Sounds good,” Sapnap agrees. Following his boyfriend toward the restaurant’s tall spruce double doors, he addresses their guest, “How was your flight?”

“Long, but fun,” George shrugs. “It’s been years since I rode an airplane. Actually, it’s been years since I’ve ridden anything... or anyone.”

“I thought you said you were gonna make out with my parents after you got out of the hospital,” Sapnap scoffs, following his boyfriend and leading his guest into the restaurant.

“Oh, right!” George laughs. “I guess I forgot to do that.”

“Sure you forgot.” Clicking his tongue, Sapnap leads the group toward the hostess, who stands behind a podium inside the entrance. Switching his tone from humorous to polite, he greets, “Hello. Could we get a table for three, please?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

The group receives a quiet table outside, beneath a maroon overhang that shades the restaurant’s patio from the sun. Promising to bring cups of water, the hostess places menus into the men’s hands and leaves. Next a wait staff member visits the group to take their orders. Sapnap requests a chicken skewer plate, Dream requests falafel with a side salad, and George requests two gyros. When the wait staff member leaves the table alone again, the guest speaks again.

“I thought Maine would be a lot colder than it is.” George glances at the row of flowering hedges that form the shopping center’s boundary line.

“Usually it is colder than this.” Sapnap sips from his cup of water. “The snow lasts until April here.”

“Well, even if it snowed, there’s no way it was colder here than it was in the hospital,” George argues. “Either that, or hospital blankets suck even harder than I do.” Then, after a pause, he admits, “Actually, the blankets weren’t even too bad, but the hospital room itself? Ugh, if I ever see such a hideous ceiling again in my life, then my treatment will be for nothing because I’ll end my own life right there!”

Sapnap is not surprised that his former roommate can joke so freely about his near-death experience; he struggles to suppress his resignation. George was always stronger than me.

“Sapnap told me you moved out last May,” Dream recalls. “Have you been in the hospital for the whole time since then?”

“Yes, I was,” George nods. Drumming neatly-trimmed fingernails upon the circular tabletop, he muses, “Luckily I wasn’t there alone, though. The nurses were amazing - very friendly - and my family visited me sometimes. When I wasn’t getting absolutely steamrolled by whatever antibiotics my doctors wanted to try, I watched a lot of movies and television shows, too. My favorite show was about a group of male models who became marine researchers, called ‘Heavily Mussel-ed’. You should watch it sometime if you like science stuff.”

As the guest finishes his story, the group’s wait staff member returns with a large platter. Xe serves plates of food to each man and asks if they need anything else, then xe leaves the group behind to eat.

Plunging his fork into a chunk of chicken, Sapnap glances at the two gyros on George’s plate. Remembering his roommate’s extremely limited diet while they lived together, he asks, “What did you eat at the hospital?”

“A lot of yogurt, miso, sourdough bread: all probiotic foods that helped my healthy bacteria to recover from the antibiotics,” George explains. “I started drinking kombucha, too. I hated it at first, but now it’s practically like water to me.”

“I love kombucha!” Dream perks up. “It’s an excellent source of probiotics, and it contains lots of antioxidants, too.”

“Yes, it does.” George nods. Sending a bemused glance toward Sapnap, he and Dream lower their heads to begin eating their meals.

Beneath the shady overhang, sequestered away from the rest of the restaurant, the reunited group eats lunch together. Only the soft sounds of chewing and forks scraping against ceramic interrupt the rustling of leaves from a grove of nearby spruce trees. Dream finishes his food first; George follows. While Sapnap is still eating his chicken skewers, pita, and hummus, the host addresses their guest.

“I guess I’m still kind of a stranger, so I wanted to say thanks for meeting both Sapnap and me.”

“Of course!” Stacking his used utensils, George crumples a paper napkin and tosses it onto his dirty plate. “Sapnap told me a lot about you, and I can see why.”

“Oh, really?” Dream lifts an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

“Hm,” George pretends to consider. Then, with a sly smirk, he reveals, “I remember he told me you have the most perfect tit* that he’s ever seen in his life.”

Stunned, Sapnap nearly chokes on his food. Before he can defend himself, Dream nudges his bicep playfully.

“Wow, Sap, you can say that to George but not to my face?”

Forcing himself to swallow, Sapnap clarifies purposefully, “Okay, listen. I didn’t use those exact words -”

“Don’t you dare try that sh*t, Sapnap,” Dream accuses light-heartedly. “You grab my tit* every time you’re the big spoon.” With a smug smirk, he crosses his arms. “And I bet my tit* were the first you ever saw, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sapnap accepts the challenge. “Well, I bet my tit* were the first you ever sucked, but you would never admit it because these milk-jugs definitely aren’t vegan!”

“That doesn’t count, though,” Dream argues. “I didn’t actually eat or swallow anything, therefore sucking tit* shouldn’t qualify as violating vegan protocols -”

George’s cackling laughter interrupts the pair. Witnessing the outrageous argument, he claps a hand over his mouth as the corners of his eyes crinkle with wild entertainment. Blushing, the hosts fall quiet, remembering that they are technically in public. Once George’s hiccups cease, he slaps his hand upon the tabletop.

“Now I can really see why Sapnap likes you, Dream.” His voice is warm with approval, becoming more serious as he speaks. “I think he’ll make you very happy, too.”

“Oh wow, um, thank you.” Flattered, Dream dips his head gratefully. “And yeah, I am very happy with him.”

The mood shift from light-hearted to serious gives Sapnap a sensation of whiplash. Witnessing the fondness in Dream’s teal eyes, he wonders if they may have unintentionally turned George into a third wheel. Returning his gaze to the guest, he remembers a tense conversation from over one year ago. Despite the casual silence that falls over the table, dreadful words seem to echo in the back of his head.

“George, do you think you’ll be alone for the rest of your life?” This question came from Sapnap’s own mouth… but George never answered it. Ashamed, Sapnap hopes that this new question will not offend the guest: “George, do you think you’ll find someone, too?”

“Hm?” George blinks with surprise.

At this moment, the group’s wait staff member returns, gathering dirty plates and leaving the bill behind. The guest reaches toward it, but Sapnap’s hand is faster; he slaps his palm upon the bill and drags it toward himself. “Nope, I’ve got this one.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Appreciating the hospitable gesture, George nods, then he returns to the conversation. “When you say I’ll ‘find someone’, what do you mean?”

“I mean, like, I’m happy here with Dream. Do you think there might be someone for you out there, too, now that you’re able to go outside and meet people and stuff?”

George senses the caution in Sapnap’s tone. He remembers the same conversation, in which Sapnap accused him of being too nice to let someone fall in love with him when his disease might prevent him from loving them in return. I was such an idiot. The guest also senses Sapnap’s shame, but his expression does not twist with triumph or smugness.

“Actually, that’s an interesting subject.” For the first time that his former roommate can remember, George blushes. Unobscured by a gas mask or oxygen tubes, a small smile spreads across his face until the hosts do not even need to wonder what his flustered expression means.

“Aw, tell us, Georgie.” Finally smiling again, Sapnap teases, “Don’t be shy. We can see you’ve got a little crush.”

“Alright, fine,” the guest relents, lifting his hands in mock defeat. “I’ll tell you the story.” After sipping from his cup of water, George begins, “I checked into the hospital on the same day when I moved out. Since no one else in the hospital had Toxobacillus, I got an entire room all to myself. For, like, two months, the bed beside me was empty… until someone new moved in. It was a guy with a different infection: Cryptoplasmosis. He was the only patient in the hospital who had it, so naturally, he got the bed beside mine. No one knew how to treat either of our diseases, so the doctors tried the same antibiotics on both of us to see what worked. If treatments were painful - and, unfortunately, they usually were - then the guy and I held hands. When we weren’t getting treatment, he and I talked. I taught him how to play chess, too.” George winks wryly at his former roommate before his tone becomes serious again. “We acted like we were just hanging out, but starting sometime in October, the guy started feeling worse. I didn’t find out until then that even though Cryptoplasmosis was rare, it’s almost always fatal.” Then George trails off. His voice breaks slightly upon the last word.

Dream and Sapnap worry about where this story may lead. Exchanging a glance, they prepare to offer condolences for George’s loss. However, before their mouths can open, the guest inhales a deep breath to continue.

“The other guy’s doctors began putting him in medically-induced comas for the more experimental treatments. Sometimes I would look over and he would be there, looking asleep even though I knew he was unconscious. One of his comas lasted for a month. During that time, I realized I had never missed talking to someone so much. That was how I knew I loved him.” Swallowing hard, George runs a finger along the edge of his water cup, observing the condensation that clouds the glass. “I think that was how he knew, too. When the doctors brought him out of the month-long coma, the first thing he did was ask if he was alive. The second thing he did was look sideways to see if I was still there with him.”

Quietly Dream murmurs, “Aw.” His and Sapnap’s shoulders slump with relief when they notice George’s shining eyes and growing half-smile.

“Yes, I know it’s so romantic,” the guest rolls his eyes. “But the exact moment that I knew he would be perfect for me was when it was my turn for a medically-induced coma. See, I was still getting worse during that whole time because my treatments weren’t working, either. The other guy promised that if I survived the coma, he would give me the best ‘super sloppy spitjob’ I ever had in my life. I didn’t even know what that was, but hearing that it would be the best super sloppy spitjob I ever had was really too tempting of an offer for me to die during the procedure.” Chuckling to himself at the memory, George finishes, “And guess what? He was right there when I woke up, too. He asked if I still had all of my ‘male parts’, and when I said ‘I think so’, he said that was all he needed to know.”

“Is the guy still at the hospital now?” Dream asks curiously.

“Yeah, he’s in another coma.” George checks the date on his smartphone. “Before I left this morning, the doctors estimated he’ll need up to 12 more days in this one.”

That answer startles Sapnap. When he learned that George’s partner was still alive, he relaxed and assumed the stress about his companion’s fate was simply part of the love story… but his lover’s future is still uncertain.

The two patients laid beside each other in a hospital for months, bonding over their experience of being the only people to fight completely unfamiliar diseases. George escaped their shared hell first; now he laughs with old friends even though his lover might not join him on the other side. Today’s meeting is a testament to George’s strength and emotional maturity. Sapnap doubts he could be so compartmentalized and outwardly calm if Dream were sick in the hospital.

Leaving $10 as a tip for their wait staff member, the group stands from the table. Full of lunch, the three men stretch. George slings his duffel bag over his shoulder again, Sapnap places more bills onto the table as payment, and the group exits the restaurant. Ignoring the background noise of other patrons chatting at the indoor tables, they emerge from the tall spruce double doors.

“My car is this way.” Beneath a bright blue sky, Sapnap points across the parking lot. As the group leaves, they pass a long line of people waiting to dine at the restaurant for lunch. Once the hosts and their guest step off the concrete curb onto greasy asphalt, he mutters, “I’m glad we missed the lunch rush.”

“Earlier is better,” Dream agrees.

They wait for George to make a comment as well, but the guest does not respond. Instead he is distracted, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his smartphone.

“It’s this one right here,” Sapnap indicates, unlocking his vehicle’s doors. “George, you can sit in the front with me.”

“Should we do something else, too?” Dream opens the side door and climbs into the back seat.

“We could take George moose-hunting,” Sapnap jokes, ducking into the driver’s seat. Neither he nor Dream have ever hunted animals - or wanted to hunt animals - but he supposes that the guest would assume it is a common hobby in Maine.

However, George remains silent. He remains standing outside the vehicle, slowly scrolling up as he reads a series of text messages on his smartphone. Unblinking, he stares at the screen, soft lips parted with intense focus. Only when he senses two pairs of eyes watching him with concern does his concentration break.

“Oh, sorry, guys,” George apologizes, hastily hopping into the passenger seat and buckling his seat belt. “I’m just reading some messages.”

“No problem, it’s fine.” Sapnap dismisses his apology. He powers on the engine, then he reverses out of his parking spot. “I’ll just drive toward the city, and we can decide where to go when you’re ready.”

George hums his acknowledgement, returning his attention to the series of text messages on his phone. Politely Dream averts his gaze, looking directly ahead to avoid invading the guest’s privacy.

While Sapnap steers the car out of the parking lot and onto the main street, merging with midday traffic, George hunches forward slightly. Then his body tenses, frozen in the passenger seat. From the back seat, Dream places a comforting hand upon the guest’s shoulder.

After several minutes of traveling along sunlit roads, Sapnap reaches an intersection and slows down. The stop light is red; other cars drive on the street that is perpendicular to the vehicle. As he waits to proceed, Sapnap removes one hand from the steering wheel to drum his fingernails upon it. Would it be inappropriate to ask what George is reading? When the stop light switches from red to green, Sapnap returns his hand to the steering wheel and accelerates. The hum of his engine seems to amplify the car’s silence rather than break it. Eventually the driver decides to take a risk: “Is everything okay?”

As these words exit his mouth, George’s tension unravels. Suddenly weak, he leans forward further in the passenger seat to rest his elbow upon his knee. Dropping the smartphone into his lap, slender fingers run through feathery hair. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“The guy texted me.”

“You mean, the guy from your story?” Dream is surprised. “I thought you said he wouldn’t wake up for 12 days or something!”

“Yeah, but he was in a coma for, like, a month already.” Sitting up again, George makes eye contact with Dream through the side mirror to explain, “I got discharged from the hospital after he went unconscious, so the last time he saw me, I was in a bed beside him. The doctors were trying a new treatment, lowering his metabolism to stop his bacteria from multiplying or whatever. Then they flooded him with antibiotics - new ones - and they worked.” As George speaks, he reaches a new realization. His breath rattles in his lungs. “Oh my god, I was supposed to be with him. I promised I would be there when he woke up, but he woke up and saw I was gone -” Gasping, George trails off and grabs his smartphone again. Fingers skittering over the keyboard, he types a response. Sapnap has never seen his friend like this before, so he is not offended when George sends the message, lowers his smartphone, and confesses, “I’m sorry, Sapnap, I know I promised to stay with you in Maine for a few days. You even bought an air mattress for me, but I think I might need to -”

“Dude, stop.” Sapnap interrupts with an amused smile. “Don’t worry, I get it: you need to go.” Slowing the car, he parks on the side of the street and turns off the engine. “Your boyfriend is waiting for you. He probably needs you more than we do.”

“Thank you, Sapnap.” Eyes gleaming with gratitude, George heaved a relieved sigh. Glad to hear that his abrupt departure will not cause contempt, he stares ahead to think. “Actually, I might need to stay with you tonight anyway. I bet there won’t be a flight from here to Florida until tomorrow -”

“Wait!” Dream blurts. Since the car is parked, he whips off his seat belt to poke his head between the men in the front seats. “Before I moved, I visited Maine from Florida, and I thought the same thing, but there’s a train that goes from Maine to Massachusetts at 5:30pm. After the train, you can take a midnight flight from Massachusetts to Florida. You’ll arrive at the hospital by 3am, or 4am at the latest!”

“Alright,” George acknowledges, trying to memorize the information. “Let’s do that.”

“And you can get your ‘super sloppy spitjob’ when you arrive, too.”

At 5:20pm, the train station’s lamps glow in the early evening. Pink and orange hues paint the sky above three men’s heads as they sprint across a parking lot to the building’s main doors.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here, Sapnap,” Dream pants, holding open the door for everyone to slip inside.

“I don’t miss it,” Sapnap coughs. Pointing toward an overhanging sign, he reads, “Track 404 is that way.”

“Finally.” Despite his hatred of cardio, George springs forward. He leads the group to a concrete platform that overlooks the train tracks. Full of adrenaline, he places his duffel bag upon the ground and offers a goodbye hug to Dream. When Sapnap observes the embrace, he notices a blush in Dream’s freckled cheeks. Ironically, it took him until now to recognize that his former roommate is incredibly handsome. Before his bacterial infection forced him into quarantine, George dated 718 people at their university; he was the all-time record-holder among his now-extinct group, the Hoppers. Now, seeing the founder the way he was before his infection - lively, energetic, and overflowing with infernal lust - that number does not seem unrealistic anymore.

George grins at Sapnap with enjoyment. He hums, “Your turn.”

Flustered, Sapnap accepts the embrace. However, when he wraps his arms around George, the guest holds him close. Pressing the side of his face into his friend’s warm neck, he whispers quietly, “Sapnap?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about yourself?”

Not expecting the question, Sapnap hesitates. What is that supposed to mean? When he searches his brain for an explanation, he remembers a conversation from last year. He remembers wondering if he would ever see his friend again. George’s body was sick, yet his soul was far from weak when he requested, “You’re strong now, but you need to promise that you’ll become stronger. If I find you again and you still hate yourself, then I’ll be mad.”

Resurfacing from the memory, Sapnap realizes he kept his promise. Honesty warms his chest when he murmurs, “I think I feel better: stronger.”

“Good,” George purrs with approval. “I can tell. I’m proud of you.” Then he pulls away, breaking physical contact with his friends for the last time.

Harsh lights flash in the distance, slicing through the soft nighttime air. The cement platform begins to rumble, quaking under the pedestrians’ feet. Brakes screech and a horn blares as the train arrives. Instinctively everyone steps back, allowing the massive machine plenty of space before it squeals to a halt. The countdown disappears from the sign above the track; the words “now boarding” replace it. Some passengers hop off while others climb onboard.

Just like when Dream visited in February, Sapnap has appreciated every moment of his time with George. I hope he comes back soon. This time, he does not need to wonder if George will return.

Lifting his duffel bag off the platform, George slings the strap over his shoulder with a grunt. Returning Dream and Sapnap’s solemn waves, he promises, “I’ll see you again soon! Keep that air mattress in storage for me, please!”

“We will!”

After meeting Dream and Sapnap’s eyes over his shoulder for one last time, George climbs through the train’s sliding doors and ascends the steps. His outline is barely visible through dusty glass windows as he finds a seat.

Then the train doors close with a loud hiss. Machine gears begin to pump, turning the huge wheels below them. The horn blares again, almost deafening the two lovers who linger upon the cement platform.

Dream and Sapnap watch as the train’s speed increases. Seconds later, the last car departs, blasting them with a hot gust of acrid air before darkness shrouds the machine and the platform stops rumbling under their feet. Red lights shrink slowly into the distance.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Dream sighs pleasantly. Facing Sapnap, he asks, “What did George say to you?”

“He asked if I was okay.” That is close enough to the truth.

“And are you okay?” Dream prompts.

“Yeah, I think so.” That is true, too.

“I’m glad.” Dream claps a hand upon his boyfriend’s shoulder blade. “Now let’s go home.”

Turning around, the boyfriends cross the train station toward the parking lot. Inhaling fresh air when they step outside, they begin the short journey back to Sapnap’s car.

Sapnap should feel disappointed because his guest’s abrupt departure was unplanned, yet he feels thankful instead. Hopefully George will join his lover’s side soon, and he will find the same happiness that Sapnap found with Dream.

Despite the distance that separates the three friends, their bond only strengthens. Even while George reaches the airport in Massachusetts and while Dream and Sapnap cook dinner in the kitchen, the men remain aware of each other’s presence. Inevitably more storms lay ahead, looming ominously on the horizon… yet misery and fear will no longer accompany those wicked winds, biting chills, and frigid waters. Finally reunited, the vagabonds will face those storms and move on together.