Kiss Me

by Joseph James Hunt

  “You can’t get protein from wine.”

  “I know where I can get protein.” Blake dug a hand under the duvet, grabbing Chris’ muscular inner thigh.

  Chris pulled his leg away, a knee-jerk reaction. “Eggs have more.”

  ELEVEN

  Blacked out

  After a weekend of uncertainty mixed with the melancholy of life, Blake spent his time with Chris. He occupied himself, trying not to acknowledge the inevitable, one of their pages was going to be cut, and he was waiting for the news to hit like a gut punch.

  It was easy to let the frustration in, negative thoughts like a virus. Worse than any Monday morning or blue balls.

  Distracted, Blake stood with a coffee warming his hands. He stared out of his office window into the dull sky. “I hate waiting.” He spoke to Ava as she paced his office behind him.

  “What time did they say?”

  “One.”

  Ava rolled her watch around on her wrist. “It’s—”

  “I know. I have another hour left.” He drank his coffee through the plastic hole. “I know Chris will keep his page, and I’ll be reduced to the website and a pay cut.”

  “It’s not all bad.”

  Blake turned and raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s very bad.”

  She chuckled. “It’s not the end of the world.”

  “No, but it’s—”

  “It’s?” She shrugged. “Dannika told me you get overwhelmed. Why is it so important to you?”

  He pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes. “I was supposed to be getting more and more, that’s what I was promised. They said, with a reputation I’d have a two-page spread each week, and then featured articles.”

  Ava sighed. “I’m sorry, but Dannika—”

  “Ugh. I don’t care.”

  “But—”

  Blake rapped his knuckles on his desk. “If you’re not gonna help, leave.”

  “Fine.” She nodded her head at him.

  Ava was immediate in telling Chris, approaching his office where he sat, typing away. She let out the deep breath she’d been holding in since standing in Blake’s office.

  “How is he?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll take it well.”

  “I know he won’t.”

  “I’ve been speaking to his best friend, and we think we’ll take him out tonight.”

  “Alcohol?” Chris closed his eyes slightly and grit his teeth. “It’s the last thing someone with bad news needs.”

  “It is?”

  “It’s a depressant, he needs a stimulant.”

  Ava laughed. “Like, sex?”

  Chris had toyed with the idea, replacing the bad news in Blake’s life with sex, instead of alcohol, getting him high on the natural bodily orgasm. “I can take care of that.”

  Like clockwork, the meeting took place at 1 P.M. In the smaller, more intimate meeting room. Vanessa sat at the head of the table. Franco sat at her side with Nicole and Monica beside him.

  Chris sat close to Blake, arriving after him, while Blake didn’t look or say a word, Chris tried his best to grab his attention, to grab something, even if it was his hand. Blake pulled it away, placing his hands on his lap.

  Vanessa stood, her freshly blown out blonde hair bouncing with movement. “We’ve all heard, you two are an item now.”

  Blake and Chris took once glance at each other, but there was a dead behind the eyes glare from Blake, much like the original look Chris gave in the same room over a month ago.

  “I think it’s better than the alternative, being at each other’s throats.” She chuckled. “Anyway, what we’re all here for this afternoon. We’ve made a decision, and we’ve based this on the polls online, through reader feedback, accessibility, etc. a bunch of things you don’t need to concern yourself over.”

  “So?” Blake asked, raising his voice. “We all know, it’s no secret.”

  She shrugged. “Congratulations, Christian, you’ll be keeping your page, and I’m sorry Blake, but your page is being cut. We have other advice columnists, and yours is particularly a niche we think is better suited for web-based viewing.”

  The final blow, a defeat sank in Blake’s chest, knocking the wind straight through him. He reached around and grabbed Chris’ hand, clenching it, he squeezed rapidly.

  “You okay?” Nicole asked, giving him her sympathy smile.

  Blake stood, his face red, his eyes puffy. He looked around the room. “Whatever.” He stormed out and jumped into the elevator as it opened.

  Chris stayed in the meeting room, afraid to smile or express gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, before chasing Blake. He took the stairs to meet him as the elevator door sprung, but he wasn’t there.

  The indistinct sound of sobbing came from the wheelchair-friendly bathroom. Inside it, Blake ran the taps, drowning out any sound he made.

  Chris leaned against the door. “Blake?”

  “Go away.” Blake leaned on the inside of the door. He pulled a long roll of toilet tissue from the dispenser. “I knew you’d get it.”

  “I know.” He sucked back a deep breath. “Let me inside.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Please.”

  Blake sobbed harder. “I feel like I’ve failed.”

  Chris tried the handle of the door again. “You haven’t.”

  “Or that I’m being dramatic.”

  A smile broke out on Chris’ lips. “You are, a little bit.”

  “I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine because you got to keep your job.”

  Chris knocked on the door. “You have a job still.”

  “Don’t make me sound ungrateful.”

  “Right. I’m leaving.”

  Chris left and returned to his office. It wasn’t like he was celebrating an achievement. He didn’t have the tingle in his stomach like he’d won anything, the exact opposite, there was something in his stomach, he felt loss or on the verge of losing.

  Two hours passed since Blake learned the future of his printed page in the magazine. He found Nicole and sat in her office, laid on her chaise lounge.

  She tried reasoning with him, inspiring him out of her office instead of staring at the ceiling. “You’ll be fine, we can submit new ideas for pages. You can still submit features.”

  “But the pay cut.”

  “I understand, I really do.”

  He scoffed, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “I’m going to be making eight-thousand pounds less a year.”

  “I get that, but you’ve had weeks.”

  He sat upright. “It wasn’t right putting me up against someone who doesn’t write what I do. If anything, put me against Ruby. We know she’ll be on maternity soon anyway.”

  Nicole hummed. “Ruby’s actually going to be featured prominently, once she’d had the baby, she’ll have a whole spread each week. The readers are already very engaged with her.”

  “Ugh. Whatever.”

  “I’m doing everything I can, Blake. You’re a talented writer, you’ll think of something.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll write a book about how you lied to me and told me I’m an integral part of the magazine, then you all but fire me.” He tugged at his collar from constricting his Adam’s apple. “Why don’t you fire me?”

  Nicole pressed a finger to her lips. “Nobody wants to fire anyone.”

  He pushed himself from the chaise and stood. “How can I respond to letters? I don’t even want to do this.”

  “Take the afternoon off, take a mental health day tomorrow. Get yourself back to one-hundred percent. We have plenty of material submitted to go live, we can hold back a few pieces for print.”

  He rolled his eyes. “My last print? When will that be?”

  “Next week.”

  The pit expanded, prodding his stomach and punching in his throat. He left her office, shaking his head at her.

  Chris had been waiting in Blake’s office since being
told he’d left the bathroom. He sat, waiting with a doughnut in a paper bag.

  Blake almost turned on his heel as he saw Chris.

  “Don’t.” Chris stood. “Let me cook for you tonight.” He reached out and pulled Blake into his arms. He kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry, about this. Let me make you whatever you like, we can watch your favourite film, and do whatever you want.”

  Blake broke his shaky breath. “If you really felt sorry, you’d give it up.”

  “Give it up?” Chris pulled away to see Blake’s face, gaging whether it was poor comedic timing. It wasn’t. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You’re better at clickbait and getting hits, I’m someone who writes generic life advice.” Blake tried to go back in for a hug, but Chris pulled away.

  “No, you really want me to give the page away to you.” He shook his head and dropped the doughnut on his desk. “If you liked me, just a tiny bit, you wouldn’t even ask.”

  He huffed. “Yeah, well.”

  “No, Blake. Grow up.” Chris left, his heart swollen in his chest, thudding faster the longer he thought about what had happened. He headed straight for his office, light on his toes.

  He sank into his seat and waited for the fizzling in his nerves to dissipate.

  “You okay?” Danny asked, meeting Chris in his office. “How else did you think he’d react?”

  “I thought, you know, after everything, he’d at least be happy for me.”

  “I’m sure he is, you know how people are, when shit happens, they don’t know how to process it.”

  “I thought, for someone who gives advice, their emotional intelligence would be higher, but, I guess. Ugh. I was wrong.”

  Blake had a supply of emergency wine in the bottom drawer of his desk. He drank directly from the neck of the bottle. He dressed in the blazer he kept on a hook in his office and waited on Dannika and Ava to collect him.

  Weekdays at Manhattan were the best way to get rid of feeling shit, and they were best served with an Annie Are You Okay cocktail, Monday’s drink of the day. Blake, Ava, and Dannika sat on the second floor at a table, sharing a pitcher of the mixed cocktail with several straws around the sugar rim.

  “You can always find another job,” Dannika suggested, sipping on the cocktail. “I mean, how tough would it be?”

  Ava gasped. “No, you can’t leave me.”

  “I thought about it. I realty have. Maybe somewhere where I’m not a token.”

  Dannika rolled her eyes. “Okay, that’s a lie, you love being the token gay.”

  A smile touched Blake’s face. “Fine. I like it, I like the attention.” He sighed. “But, if I’m going to be used, I want to be paid for it.” He pulled a straw to his lips and sucked hard.

  “You’re not going to go broke though,” Dannika said.

  “Might as well.”

  “We split the apartment, all the bills, how haven’t you saved up?”

  Ava listened in. “Is it expensive?”

  “I’m on twenty-nine thousand a year, and I’m being cut to twenty-one, the starting salary. I have credit card debt, I have student loans, and once you start paying back so much a month, you can’t go back and say hi, can I pay less, because their system is messed up, and I’m earning over the cap.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Ava said, nodding.

  “I thought you paid those cards off?”

  Blake’s jaw clenched. “I did, then I started spending.”

  “On what?”

  He looked at either side of himself, with nothing to show. “I went away a few times.”

  “You said that was work.”

  He took another sip. “I lied. I knew I could submit to my editor from anywhere, so I took a couple trips, and put them all on the card. Oh, then remember when I went to LA with Stefan, we spent a fortune.”

  “Shit, Blake.” Dannika grabbed his hand from across the table. “You’re paying the monthly minimums? Right? You’ll be fine.”

  “That’s the real reason, it’s not because of seeing my work in print, but just affording to live.”

  Ava grabbed his other hand. “Shit.”

  They continued to drink, going further up the alcohol food chain, drinking harder liquors. A tall figure, towering over both Ava and Dannika. He stood in the direct light, obscuring their vision as he appeared a black mass.

  “Chris?” Blake guarded his eyes and sat upright. “Yeah?”

  “Can I talk to you?”

  He’d dressed up for the occasion, as was the rule for entering the bar.

  “Sure.” He stood.

  Chris let Blake go first, letting him go lead the way. He turned to the girls. “I’m sending him home.”

  “He’s just having fun,” Dannika said.

  Chris shook his head. “It’s not good to be drinking like this.”

  Ava hummed. “Okay, but make sure he gets home safe.”

  Chris nodded before following Blake.

  “What do you want?” Blake asked, reaching the bottom step.

  Chris sighed. “I want you to stop being crazy.”

  “Crazy?”

  Chris ushered Blake out of the front door. “Yeah. You can’t drink this away.”

  He shrugged. “I can try.”

  Chris hollered a taxi, pulling Blake into his arms. “You’ll regret it.”

  Blake kissed Chris’ neck, falling short of his lips. “Are you taking me home?”

  “Hmm.” Chris opened the taxi door, and gestured for Blake to get in. “No, sleep off the alcohol. Call me in the morning.”

  “No.” He groaned. “Come with me.” He pouted his bottom lip out.

  “Go home, Blake.” Chris shut the taxi door and stepped back.

  He waited a moment until the taxi had driven away. He sighed, sucking back on the breath he’d been holding in his throat. He looked around at the wet pavements and girls in high heels, queuing up with the men, resting their arms around them. It stuck in his throat, to see couples everywhere.

  TWELVE

  A rocky road

  The headache of a hangover always sits heavy the morning after, like a depression in the air, a thick heavy grey cloud behind your eyelids. Blake laid in bed, groaning and tossing from either side, kicking up his duvet and hugging a pillow between his legs.

  “Blakey.” Dannika knocked on his bedroom door.

  Living with someone had its perks, but for each perk, there was a downside, and right now, the downside was not being completely alone. Blake knew it was a matter of time before he’d be pulled from his duvet and sweatpants.

  “I’m sleeping.”

  “It’s the afternoon.”

  Blake hadn’t checked his phone or opened his curtains. He didn’t want to be reminded of the world continuing around him. “And?”

  “I think you should talk to Chris.”

  He flailed his limbs around, throwing them against the mattress. “And say what?”

  She huffed. “I don’t know, maybe apologise.”

  The unholy bit of despair ravaged him from the middle. He knew what he’d done wasn’t the best, but he was always the act first, think later guy, he never calculated his moves, he went with the flow, and the slightest motion of the flow going the opposite direction was enough to panic him, pushing his head under, gasping and inhaling water.

  Blake apprehensively pulled his phone from his trouser pocket on the floor. Several missed calls and messages, his heart thudded, but as he looked, they were all from Ava and Dannika, not a single call or text from Chris, not even one to ask if he’d got home safe.

  He gulped at the water on his bedside table and sat upright against the headboard. He punched in Chris’ name, and before pressing the green call button, he pushed the phone against his chest. “I can’t.” He opened a message.

  Hi. Listen. Can we go for coffee? I’m sorry. I overreacted. I do that sometimes. Hopefully we can put this behind us, because you’re super nice, and I was being a dick x

  A reply
came automatically.

  I can’t today. Maybe some other time.

  He froze. His heart. His chest. His vision turned fuzzy, staring at the text blur on the screen. It sat in his hands. He weighed his options of throwing it against the wall, but his limbs were weak and sore.

  Fifteen minutes later, Blake left his bedroom wrapped in a blanket, he was already dressed in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. He stared at Dannika as she sat drinking coffee and eating toast at the dining table.

  She chuckled. “Nice of you to show your face.” She stood and gave him a hug. “Want me to make you some toast, maybe sober you up.”

  He grunted. “Maybe one of those vitamin tablets.”

  “The dissolvable?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, you can’t have one of those without some toast.”

  He trudged through to the adjoining lounge and threw himself on the sofa. “Why don’t they put crap daytime telly on in the afternoon.”

  “I’m sure Bargain Hunt is recorded.”

  Blake grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels. They had Sky, a satellite TV company with features to record TV shows and even download TV. There was never anything on he wanted to watch, it was too time consuming.

  “I want something like Jeremy Kyle.” He sighed. “I want to listen to someone else’s problems, like my sister is having an affair with my pet hamster.”

  Dannika grimaced, pulling her face at the topic. “Careful or I’ll get us tickets to his live show. If you think it’s a cringe fest watching on TV, try being in the audience.”

  He shuddered.

  Dannika worked on several programmes while at university, getting internships as research assistants for talent shows and reality TV; interesting things her non-disclosure agreement won’t let her talk about.

  “So, what advice would you give if someone wrote into you and told you they thought their sister was having an affair with their pet?”

  Blake shrugged and continued flicking through channels. “I wouldn’t even write back, clearly someone’s taking the piss.”

  Dannika sat a plate of toast and a tall glass vitamin water on the coffee table. She budged Blake’s legs and sat on the sofa, letting him rest his feet across her lap.