by Jay Bell
“I’m not leaving you!” Kelly said. “And don’t tell me what I need or how I feel. I wasn’t happier before I met you. I was okay, but since that first day we spent together, when we ran around Austin trying to figure out how to plan something spontaneous—” His voice cracked. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”
“Fine,” Nathaniel said, setting his jaw. “Then I’m doing this for me. I can’t handle going through this again.”
“Through what?” Kelly shouted. He felt like crying from exasperation alone. He didn’t understand what was happening.
“People change,” Nathaniel said. “It can’t be helped. We love each other now, but you’re just starting out and you don’t realize how much heartbreak is around the corner. And I admit it. I’m scared of losing you or hurting you or a million other scenarios that keep me up at night. I’m a coward or maybe I’m just crazy. All I know is that I can’t handle this anymore.”
“You can,” Kelly said. “You’re so fucking strong. I know you can handle this!”
“You can’t tell me what I feel either,” Nathaniel said softly. “And you’re wrong. I’m not strong. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, and I won’t.”
Kelly argued with him. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, wouldn’t let things end this way. The night wore on. The food congealed in pots and pans, midnight came and went, and Kelly kept talking until his throat was raw and his eyes were sore from crying. But it didn’t matter. Nathaniel really was strong. So strong that regardless of how hard Kelly tried to break him down, to climb that wall and reach him, he couldn’t. Eventually Nathaniel stopped responding. He just crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. Kelly kept fighting, but when your opponent can’t be budged and won’t even strike back...
He stood up from the table, hunger gnawing at his stomach, his head aching, but these discomforts were nothing compared to the pain in his chest. Kelly felt like his heart had been cut open, the love flooding out as if to extinguish the hellish flames that threatened to burn them both to ash. He never knew he could feel so much, that it could pour from him, causing anguish in the process but never diminishing, never running out. Infinite. And so damn painful. Nathaniel was right. This hurt. More than Kelly had ever feared, and the fucked up thing was that the person he normally ran to for comfort, for protection, was sitting right in front of him. Untouchable. Unwilling. For once those hazel eyes weren’t shining. The strong brow had lost its pride. Instead Nathaniel looked drained, and Kelly was forced to wonder if he too had been cut, only to find his feelings weren’t infinite. Maybe his love had trickled to a stop and dried out, leaving him looking so pale and shaken. Kelly tried once more. A final plea. One that would sting too, just to see if maybe there wasn’t something left inside of Nathaniel after all.
“This is going to hurt,” Kelly said. “Way more than it does right now, way more than you imagined, because I know how much I love you, and I’ve felt how much you love me. Your worst nightmare comes true, starting right now, unless you risk the future with me.”
When Nathaniel still didn’t respond, Kelly forced himself to calm down. With a shuddering breath, he willed his pulse to steady. It didn’t, but his hands stopped trembling. Kelly used them, bending over to stroke Zero’s fur. Then he walked to the kitchen counter, grabbed his phone, and headed for the apartment door. He waited in front of it, one last thread of hope fraying before it snapped completely. Then he turned his back, opened the door, and walked outside. As he went, he felt he was leaving a piece of himself behind, but this time, there would be no artificial substitutes. What Kelly had lost tonight couldn’t be replaced.
“I want him back.”
“I know you do,” Allison said. She sat not across from him but beside him on the couch, her legs angled toward him, her hand on top of his. She gave a little squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
Kelly looked over at her hopefully. “You know what to do, right? You understand people.”
“Yes,” she said, almost reluctantly. “But I can’t help someone who isn’t willing to be helped. I don’t know any more about what Nathaniel is going through than you do.”
“You could talk to him.”
“If he’s open to the idea, I would be happy to. Feel free to give him my number.”
Kelly looked down at the carpet. “I’ve been over there twice since that night.”
“How did that go?”
“He wouldn’t answer the door. I know he was there because his car was in the parking lot. He’s shut me out completely, but maybe if I text him your number... Or better yet, you could call or stop by. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. If you could get through to him, then I thought maybe—”
Allison patted his hand and stood. She moved back to her usual spot, and Kelly could tell she meant business.
“Okay,” he said. “I can’t expect you to fix all my problems. I’m sorry. But please, tell me what to do.”
Allison considered him. “I want you to listen,” she said. “I want you to hear what I have to say, and this time I want you to think about it. Don’t dismiss and don’t argue. Understood?”
He nodded.
“You need to walk away,” she said. “Put as much distance between yourself and Nathaniel as possible. Give yourself the space needed to build up your strength and keep your heart open along the way, because it’s only a matter of time before you meet some beautiful boy who is willing to love you back.”
“I don’t want that other boy,” Kelly said, shaking his head.
“You haven’t met him yet,” Allison said. “And I thought you promised to at least think about what I’m saying. What’s the alternative? Even if you coax Nathaniel back into a relationship, it’s only a matter of time before one of you ends up hurt again. That’s perfectly normal, but for whatever reason, he can’t cope. We can’t change who he is, and we can’t control the outside world, so you need to move on.”
Kelly perked up. “You’re saying that I should act like I’ve moved on. That way he won’t feel so pressured.”
Allison cocked her head. “Legally, I can’t slap you. But I can call your mother and ask her to do it for me.”
Kelly slumped into the couch. “I don’t want to move on.”
“You do,” Allison said, “because right now isn’t a happy place to be. You might wish you could turn back the clock and be with him again, but you don’t want to remain stuck in this rut forever, do you?”
“No,” he admitted.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Allison said. “Think about how far you’ve come, how much you’ve survived.”
Jared, William, the accident, the whole mess with Jason, a modeling career, and Nathaniel... All of it seemed to happen so quickly, without much time to breathe in between.
“Maybe it’s time to focus on yourself,” Allison said. “Just for a little while. Find your bearings, learn to be free again. Everything else can wait. Trust me.”
He looked at her, feeling apprehensive about the suggestion. And also a little intrigued. Kelly had once envied William for doing the same, for leaving behind everything he loved. Now Kelly wished they had stayed in touch. How had life worked out for him? Did William regret his decision? Probably not, or he would have come slinking back to Austin. Instead he was out there living a new adventure every day.
And yet, how could William not regret leaving Jason behind, even just occasionally? Having someone who loved you so completely and then consciously choosing to separate yourself from them. Just the thought of saying goodbye to Nathaniel, turning his back to all the memories they made together and all the potential Kelly still felt they had, was enough to make his throat painfully tight. But what choice did he have? To show up at Nathaniel’s apartment night after night, eyes burning with tears as he pounded on a door that wouldn’t open? Kelly was going to hurt anyway. He could do so while sitting in the same bedroom where he’d longed for Jared, where he regretted all that happened with William, and where he now agoniz
ed over Nathaniel. Or he could leave, venture out into the world and see what else it had to offer.
“Perhaps a short break from modeling,” Allison was saying, “A little time off at home or a weekend road trip to the Gulf of Mexico.”
“Farther,” Kelly said.
“Sorry?”
Kelly swallowed against the emotion rising in him. He thought about it carefully and nodded. “I’m going way farther than the borders of Texas. The world is a big place. Why not lose myself in it while I’m trying to find myself? Is that crazy?”
Allison considered him a moment and smiled. “It’s worked for other people I know.”
In romantic movies, people often stand in front of an airport gate, waiting to board their flight, just as Kelly was doing now. Elsewhere, their estranged lover would rush through traffic to the airport. Once there they would practically jump over crowds to reach the gate in time to deliver an all-important message or last minute declaration of love. A shame then, that such things didn’t happen anymore, if they ever had.
Kelly had parted with his family just before the security check. Worry had never left his parents’ faces. Royal had cried. Few things were more heartbreaking than a sixteen-year-old boy struggling with his tears. Bonnie wasn’t so passive with her emotions, pleading with him to reconsider and coming up with a million different schemes to keep him from leaving. But Kelly was determined, and after a round of hugs and kisses, he had left them there. He had glanced back as the security personnel puzzled over his leg. His family hadn’t budged. They were probably still standing there now, just in case he changed his mind.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin boarding flight 245 with service to—”
Kelly stepped forward. Technically he was still disabled, and on days like today, he took advantage of that. He wanted to be on the plane as soon as possible. He supposed he could wait around, just in case Nathaniel tried to emulate one of those old movies. If so, he was probably writhing on the ground right now, surrounded by TSA agents as they shot him with their Tasers.
If he even knew about Kelly leaving. He probably did. Kelly had told Marcello, who hoped he would continue to model on occasion. Kelly hadn’t completely shot down the idea but already knew he never would. Mostly because Marcello would inevitably send Nathaniel on an assignment, intending they patch things up. That would be sweet but misguided, since it wasn’t their relationship that needed repairing. Nathaniel did. And maybe Kelly did too. He handed his ticket to the flight attendant manning the gate and lifted up a pant leg to show why he was boarding early. When he reached the jet bridge, he did glance back once, just in case Nathaniel was lurching his way toward him, TSA agents clinging to his legs. But of course he wasn’t there.
As soon as he was seated on the plane and buckled in, Kelly closed his eyes and kept them that way until the flight landed again. Once at the airport, he splurged on a taxi, the last money he would spend so carelessly. He instructed the driver to take him downtown, asking him to stop when Kelly saw enough crowds and life. While the driver fumbled his luggage out of the trunk, Kelly stepped onto the sidewalk, allowing people to swarm around him. Nobody knew who he was here. Nobody cared. Somehow that felt right, because he would be relying only on himself from now on. After paying the driver and watching the taxi speed away, Kelly looked skyward. He thought of all the people he loved and all they had provided him. He imagined each of their faces, ending with Nathaniel’s.
“Goodbye,” Kelly whispered.
Then he picked up his belongings and disappeared into the crowd.
Epilogue New York, 2013
Kelly picked up the electronic image of a woman’s face and leaned it against a pasta jar left by the previous tenant. When it started to slip, he grabbed two cans of peaches and used them to pin it in place. While he was doing all of this, the woman’s eyes moved around the room, her voice commenting on everything she saw.
“Oh, look at those cabinets!” his mother was saying. “Aren’t they retro! And how fun it is to see them! Isn’t this the most wonderful way to communicate?”
Kelly peered at the tablet’s screen and tried to shake the feeling that his mother’s head was sitting on the kitchen counter. Or that he owned a magical painting from Hogwarts. His parents had mailed the tablet to him as a surprise present, its true purpose soon revealed when they started video conferencing with alarming frequency. At least his mother understood that she needed to stay on camera. Last time his father had called, Kelly had spent most of the conversation staring at a distant sofa. “Kelly, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” he said. “Just a little lag, that’s all.”
“How are things in the Big Apple? Is my baby a famous artist yet?” “Not quite,” Kelly said, glancing down the counter where a stack of photos gathered dust. “The thing about this city is that I’m one of a million other guys who think they know how to take a photo.”
“Then why don’t you head back to Florida?” his mother asked. “You liked it there so much. And you weren’t so far.”
“Because it’s filled with tourists taking photos.”
“Why did you leave Montana again? You always sent such beautiful pictures of the landscape.”
“Because mountains don’t buy photos from struggling artists, and there wasn’t much else there. And before you mention Seattle or Minneapolis or any of the other places I’ve been, I think it’s time to admit that location isn’t the problem. My photos simply aren’t good enough.”
Laisha pursed her lips and shook her head, as if he was being silly. “I love your photos.”
“Because you love me. That doesn’t mean my photos are any good.” “You know they are.”
“Maybe, but I think they would need to be exceptional. Everyone is taking photos today. Every single phone has a camera, and people carry them around everywhere. I still love photography as an art form, but it’s become too commonplace to make a living from.”
“You just need to put together a book,” his mother said. “Something nice and big for the coffee table. That’s what sells.”
Kelly managed a cheerful tone for her. “Great idea. I’ll look into it.” “So,” she said, smiling broadly at him. “I have a birthday coming up next week.”
Kelly already felt guilty about it. He would barely be able to make rent this month. He didn’t have enough money to send her a worthwhile present, and he definitely couldn’t afford what she really wanted.
“Is my baby coming to see me?” she asked, eyes shining.
At times like these, Kelly missed an old-fashioned telephone, because seeing his mother’s hopeful expression wasn’t easy. Maybe if he squeezed his food budget, he could manage a bus ticket. “Of course,” he said. “You know I’ll be there.”
Laisha read him like a book. “Is money tight, honey? We can send you a plane ticket.”
“Money is fine,” he lied. The pasta jar the tablet was propped against had been empty since he moved in. Then again, he’d managed to stretch his modeling savings for three years, which was an achievement in itself. Only recently was he beginning to run dry. “I’m not letting you give me a present on your birthday.”
“Okay,” she said, still not satisfied. “Have you sold anything from your big exhibition?”
“No,” he admitted. “And it’s just a record store that allowed me to hang a few things on the wall. Considering how many people listen to vinyl these days, it’s quite possible no one has seen them yet.”
“Maybe this will help.” His mother leaned over, treating him to a close-up of her cleavage as she rustled through papers on the kitchen table. Kelly poked at the screen, searching for an option to disable the video feed. “Your father cut this out of the paper last month, but I’m sure it’s still good. Here it is!” She leaned back, returning to focus and holding a scrap of newspaper that she read from. “The Eric Conroy Foundation supports artistic voices struggling to be heard, exhibiting new talent at our gallery in downtown Austin or awarding gran
ts and scholarships to budding individuals. For more information, please visit —then it has the website address right here. What do you think?”
Kelly smirked. “I don’t really see myself as a ‘budding individual.’” “No, but maybe they’d like to exhibit some of your photos. You’re a local artist who travels the world. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”
Kelly shrugged. “Maybe I’ll check it out while I’m there.”
“So you’re coming?” she asked.
“Yes,” Kelly said. “I’ll figure it all out and let you know my times tomorrow.”
“You sure you don’t need money?”
“I’m sure.”
The view on the screen went crazy for a moment, zooming around the kitchen. When it settled, it was pointed at his father’s man-boobs. Cleavage. Again. “Kelly,” he said. “I have bad news. Your Aunt Myrtle passed away. I’m so sorry. The good news is that she left you five hundred dollars.”
Kelly shook his head. “I don’t have an Aunt Myrtle.”
“You don’t anymore,” his father said with a chuckle.
“Really? Your sister just died and you’re joking about it? Or is it mom’s sister you’re laughing over, which seems even colder.”
“Uh... She was more of a family friend who we pretended was an aunt.”
“Nice try,” Kelly said. “Tell my little brother I love him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do than talk to two crazy old people.”
“We love you!” his parents said simultaneously.
“I love you too.”
Kelly tapped the icon to hang up. Then he turned around to face the cramped kitchen. He had some beans to count. Half he would eat, the rest would go toward bus fare.
The Eric Conroy Gallery was just on the edge of the Second Street District in downtown Austin. After parking, Kelly had to wander up and down side streets to find the location, almost missing it behind the overgrown trees. As he crossed the street and saw the art displayed in the window, his gut filled with dread. Once he had approached galleries with interest, curious about what other photographers were doing, or checking out the art on display despite not understanding the medium. Then of course the owner would approach him, eager to make a sale, and be disappointed when learning he was yet another artist hoping to put bread on the table.