by Jerry Cole
Ordinarily, Bradley would have loved to have gone. One of the better parts of his new pursuit in acting was all the friends he was making. Before Europe, Bradley was a bit of a loner, truth be told. He always had a boyfriend, but that boyfriend was usually his only network. The idea of going to bars with groups of friends was completely alien to him.
Unfortunately, tonight was the one night he wasn’t going to be able to join them.
“Rain check?” he asked.
Isabelle frowned. “You better not be ditching me for a hot date,” she warned. “You know how jealous I get.”
Bradley laughed. “Does my mom count?” When Isabelle and the rest of the group raised their eyebrows at him, he hurried to explain. “I promised my mom I’d pack my room up tonight – which she took to mean that I wanted her help and now it’s a whole thing.”
“Cute,” Isabelle said. “A little mommy and son time.”
“If you don’t hear from me, assume I slit my wrists.”
Bradley said goodbye to the gang, promised he’d join them next time and then started to make his way home. As mentioned, he had a date with his mom and didn’t want to be late. Although to be fair, it wasn’t his mom that he worried about being late for. His concern was starting late, because if he did that, he would finish late which meant his phone call would be pushed back. And that simply would not do.
But yes, Bradley was packing his room up with his mother tonight and that’s because finally, he was moving out. That was the second great change to come out of Bradley’s trip to Europe; a desire for independence the likes of which he had never known before.
“I can’t believe my baby is moving out!” Bradley’s mother sat on the edge of his bed, surrounded by used tissues, and adding to the pile as the minutes wore on. So far, she hadn’t done anything even closely resembling ‘help,’ choosing to cry and carry on the entire time instead. “Is it true! Can it be!”
Bradley on the other hand was a man on a mission. Technically, he didn’t move out until the next weekend, but he had promised his mother that he’d have his room packed up long before that. He’d been planning on doing it mid-week, but his mother had insisted on today... only because she said she’d be helping.
“Nope,” Bradley said through gritted teeth as he hoisted a box full of heavy textbooks up from the floor and balanced it in his arms. “It’s all a big joke – surprise.”
“If only!” his mother wailed and then blew her nose so loudly into a tissue that the room seemed to shake. “Was it me?! Am I the reason!”
Bradley was quick out the door, adding the box to the pile that was slowly collecting in the living room. It was a process, this moving thing. First, he’d packed up everything he owned into boxes. Now, he was moving them from his room into the living room, by the front door. After that he’d have to put them in a car, take them to his new place, carry them inside and then unpack them... and all by himself.
“I’ll remind you that you wanted this.” Bradley was back in the room and headed for the next box. This one had random bits and pieces in it, so weighed close to nothing.
“I did not!”
“All right,” he rolled his eyes. “We can just pretend.” He lifted the box up, tucked it under his arm and headed for the door. As he did, his mother continued to weep like he was going off to war... and not moving literally two blocks away.
It had just kind of happened. With his trip to Europe being what it was, and his acting starting to take off, Bradley had one day been struck with the desire to move and live by himself. He was twenty-five after all and felt as if he needed his own space. Also, and this was a big one, his mother was constantly at him about getting his life on track, which was why her tears right now were more crocodile tears than anything.
The place he had lined up for himself was nothing special either. It was just a studio-apartment located above a convenience store. Three months ago, the idea of living there would have had Bradley curling his lip in disgust, kicking up stink and begging for a better option. Now though... well, now he could not wait.
“If you’re not going to help, can we do this tomorrow?” Bradley asked when he was back in the room.
“How about never!” his mother wailed.
“That too,” he sighed. He then checked the time, seeing that his phone call was less than fifteen minutes away. This stage of the packing should have been finished by now. “But seriously, I have something I need to do in —”
“Oh, I see. Already ditching your mother – you haven’t even moved out yet!”
“I told you I was busy later.”
“I thought you were... acting!”
“Mom...” Bradley put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to give you a time out?”
It took a little more cajoling, but eventually Bradley was able to kick his mother out of his room with the promise that they would finish the packing the next day and then go out for lunch; a little mother and son time, as she called it.
Once he was alone, Bradley whipped his phone out and fell onto his bed. He still had a minute or two left, so he went about using the reflection in his screen to make sure he looked as good as humanly possible.
This time it was Sherman’s turn to call. The two were on weekly calls by now, although often they called twice a week, and sometimes even three times! This was their second call of the week, which is why it wasn’t on a Friday night. Funny too that they had nothing new to talk about. Really, Bradley just wanted to hear his voice.
It was so odd, this little tryst he had going with Sherman. From their physical appearance, to where they lived, to their personalities in general, the two men were just so darn different. But none of that seemed to matter. It had been nearly two months since Bradley had arrived home and not once had he considered straying —
His phone suddenly vibrated, but not with a call. It was a text message from Jackson. Seeing his ex’s name pop up like that had Bradley laughing to himself, shaking his head and then deleting the text without reading it. That’s right, Bradley didn’t even care what Jackson said, let alone care to respond. This wasn’t the first time his ex had messaged in the last month, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Bradley was a changed man in every conceivable facet. From the new place to the new attitude when it came to work, to his dismissal of an ex he literally travelled halfway around the world for, there was nothing about Bradley that one would recognize from a month ago. And the reason for this? Well, just then his name popped up on Bradley’s phone screen and Bradley answered with a smile.
“Hey, hot stuff,” he said.
“Now, I know you don’t mean me,” Sherman said on the other end of the line.
“Oh — shit.” Bradley pretended to act panicked. “That was for the guy leaving my room – close the door on the way out!” he shouted off the phone, as if there was someone in the room.
“Funny,” Sherman drawled. “How was he?”
“A dud,” Bradley sighed. “I don’t know why I waste my time.”
“Especially when you’ve got a stud like me waiting for you.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself.”
It was all smiles as Bradley lay back on his bed, got himself comfortable, and chatted to Sherman. Realistically, he wouldn’t be moving from that spot for at least an hour... maybe two. Not that it mattered either, as there was nowhere in the world he would rather be right now... except maybe actually with the man he was speaking to. But that would come.
A lot had changed for Bradley in the past month, and he was undoubtedly a better person for it. But even with all the personal changes to his life, his growing relationship with Sherman was far and away the best change of the lot. On paper the two men might have been as different as stars and stripes, but together they were perfect for one another.
And even better? Or rather, what made this ridiculous long-distance situation bearable, and kept Bradley from tearing his own hair out with frustration? Their trip
to Bali together was just around the corner...
Chapter Ten
Sherman just wanted the meeting to end. That’s all. He wanted Dewi, the Indonesian Sales Representative, to suddenly clap his hands together, smile for the small group of people crammed into an even smaller meeting room, and tell them that he was all done and that they could leave. Was that really too much to ask?
Apparently, it was. As it currently stood, Dewi was in the middle of giving a very in-depth PowerPoint presentation – one that had already been going on for thirty-one whole minutes – and judging from the stack of accompanying notes he had balanced in his right hand as he spoke, it had at least another thirty or so to go... probably even more.
“I had some fun times with the numbers yesterday,” Dewi explained as he pulled up a table-chart, comprising eight columns of different colors, running at varying lengths. Each had a series of numbers running up their sides, with little asterixis beside the numbers that designated more notes at the bottom of the screen. On a good day, Sherman probably could have deciphered the graphs meaning. Today, it was gibberish. “What I have done here is project the saved cost per person if we switch from imported rice to local – and I know, I know we already agreed we would not. But I thought it would be fun to crunch the numbers anyway...”
Surely, Dewi was making his presentation extra dense and meaningless of purpose? Surely, he knew what it was doing to Sherman? That seemed the only logical explanation.
It was Sherman’s third day in a row, in a meeting just like this one. If it wasn’t Dewi, it was Carol, Head of Tourism. And if it wasn’t Carol, it was Marcus, their HR representative. And if not Marcus, it was Venka, or Johnny or any of the heads of departments that were at these meetings for the duration of the three days. They all had something to add, and they all made sure to do so in as long and drawn out a means as possible.
And as for Sherman? Technically, this entire process was for his benefit. He had come here specifically to hear them out so that he could sign off at the end of the three days. Although that time was drawing closer and closer, as it currently stood, he would have signed his name to just about anything if it meant getting the heck out of there.
“Mr. Haas?” Dewi had stopped speaking, his attention turned entirely on Sherman. He looked at him with wide, expectant eyes as if he’d just asked a question and was awaiting an answer.
Indeed, the rest of the room were doing the same, all eyes on him, all waiting patiently.
“Ah... yeah, for sure. Sounds good.” He had no idea what he was agreeing to.
Whatever it was, it seemed to be the right answer. The rest of the room sighed their relief collectively and Dewi went back to his presentation, looking mighty pleased with himself.
Sherman wasn’t usually like this at meetings. He hadn’t gotten to where he was at the rather youngish age of thirty-two because he couldn’t sit through a couple of extended meetings. No, no. The reason for Sherman’s current attitude, his desire to escape as if the world were about to end, was on account of... well, to be fair, there were several reasons for it.
First and foremost, he was in Bali. Having arrived a little over three days earlier, Sherman had so far spent 99% of his time in the tropical island paradise locked away in boardrooms, listening to men in suits drone on about numbers and averages and what-have-you, and stressing over paperwork. Having never been to Bali before either, Sherman had heard so many great things and was desperate to try all of them.
There was one window in the meeting room and although the curtain was pulled shut, the bright, warm sun from outside still managed to peak through the cracks and remind everyone of just how gorgeous the day outside was, and what they were missing. It was torture!
But there was no way that Sherman could skip these meetings either; that’s why he had come all the way to Bali after-all. DreamLine Travel were investing a lot of money in a series of different travel packages through several Balinese tour agencies and Sherman had to be here to ensure that a) the numbers checked out and b) to sign off on everything... literally, everything. He’d signed his name so many times over the past few days that the action itself had lost all meaning.
The second reason for Sherman’s intense struggles was... embarrassing to say the least, and not something he was willing to end the meeting early for, although it was also the hardest to ignore. Even now, Sherman could feel his leg bouncing, his eyes watering and his nose itching at the thought and desire... fuck, how he wanted it. Bad!
Cocaine. It was as simple as that. Since arriving home from Europe some four months ago, Sherman had developed a small drug problem that was quickly spiraling into a much larger one. As of the moment, cocaine was his poison and God damn how he loved destroying his body and mind with it.
It had started small, just a bump or two after work to get him through the night. But then he got Mad Dog Dan’s number, started buying in larger amounts, and started doing more as a result.
He told himself he could stop whenever he wanted, that this was just a phase. And he believed it too! But it was a frustratingly addictive phase that had him romanticizing about the bathroom and how much he’d love to be locked away in one of the cubicles, snorting a fat line off his phone screen rather than listening to Dewi carry on about literally nothing.
If it wasn’t for how important this meeting was, and the fact that it was also the last of the trip, Sherman might have called it early. But he didn’t. Instead, he remained in that chair, leg bouncing, forehead sweating, eyes glazing over as he watched the seconds hand on the clock slowly tick over, gradually, carefully, painfully dragging him closer and closer to the finish.
But there was also a light at the end of this tunnel, and it had nothing to do with drugs or even Bali. It was the third reason that Sherman couldn’t wait for this meeting to end and it was without the doubt the most resounding reason of all.
Bradley was arriving today, in two hours' time to be precise. And when he did, it was going to be just he and Sherman, alone, together for an entire week! There were no more meetings. There was no more travelling. There was no more lying, or exaggerating, or anything else that might threaten to ruin their time together. It was just going to be the two of them taking advantage in every way possible of their vacation and time together.
The last week had gone the slowest. Every day of that week, Sherman had woken up, looked at the calendar on his phone and sighed aloud that the day hadn’t come yet. He’d tried to fill in the time by planning activities for the two to do, booking nice places, reserving fancy restaurants and ensuring the week would be all it could be. And it helped... if only a little. Truly, Sherman knew he wouldn’t be happy until Bradley was by his side, in the flesh.
It spoke a lot to how Sherman felt too that he didn’t even care that they were in Bali. Honestly, if Bradley had just been visiting him in Sydney, or the two were meeting in the middle of nowhere, he wouldn’t have given a shit.
When the meeting did finally draw to a close, Sherman could hardly believe it. Surely, it was a dream? Some sort of optical illusion designed to trick him? But no. Dewi turned off the projector and began to pack his things up. The moment Sherman saw him do this, he was up and out of his chair, thanking everyone with a quick handshake, ensuring them that he’d email everyone soon and then, without further delay, he got the hell out of there.
The meeting room was attached to a middling hotel located about twenty-minutes north of Kuta, which put it about five minutes away from the airport. Bradley, in all his eagerness, rushed straight there, which had him arriving roughly twenty minutes before the plane was set to land.
Those twenty minutes dragged too. And even when the plane did touch down, there was another twenty minutes of waiting for it to dock, for the doors to open, for the crew to exit and then for the passengers to slowly trickle on out. By the time that Sherman spied Bradley strolling through the gate he could have cried.
“Finally.” Sherman did his best to act cool. As Bradley strolled
toward him, he hung back, even making sure to remain seated, legs crossed, until Bradley was well on the way to him. So cool.
“I actually made sure I was the last off on purpose.” Bradley wore a wry smile as he slowly walked toward Sherman. “I figured you probably wouldn’t be here yet.”
Sherman rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I was going to send a guy to pick you up. Honestly, I’d rather be laying by the pool right about now.”
“Thought so. Sorry to ruin your day.”
The two men stopped about two feet away from one another, as if there was an invisible barrier separating them. Bradley looked Sherman up and down in that same cool, collected manner that he always did. He was so fucking confident that Sherman could hardly stand it.
As for Sherman? He tried to act as if it wasn’t taking all his willpower to throw himself at Bradley right here and now. But he also strongly suspected it wasn’t coming off that way.
Fuck, he had forgotten how good Bradley looked. Like... seriously, how was it possible? His dark hair was shaven down to his skin, but that only served to make his face look squarer and more cut than usual. His skin was somehow tanned, despite it being Autumn in Australia and his body looked as if he’d spent the last four months living in the gym. He looked divine.
Even the way he was dressed was kind of charming. He wore short bright yellow boardshorts, a white singlet and a pair of old flips flops. It was probably the most dressed down that Sherman had ever seen him... except for when he was dressed down entirely.
“Come here!” Sherman couldn’t take it anymore. He rolled his eyes at himself, licked his lips and threw himself at Bradley with the enthusiasm of a man who hadn’t seen his friend and lover for four months.
Bradley returned the hug with equal enthusiasm and as their bodies met, as they wrapped their arms around one another and then kissed full on the lips in the middle of the airport, Sherman wondered if he could even make it back to the hotel without having him.