much everyone’s. And Jeff is stunned by the intensity of my performance. I couldn’t care less. I’m not

doing this for him. I’m doing this because I need to. Hamlet, man, he’s perfect. Being on stage is the

only time I can relax. I can pour everything I feel into the role. Everything. Everything that I can’t show

in my own life. Because I’m Rizzo, right? And Rizzo doesn’t get his heart broken.

I’ve been leading a saint’s life of chastity since the day James walked out of my life. That’s basically

what he did, no matter how pathetic it may sound. This is a first, so cut me some slack. For some

completely messed-up reason, even the thought of anyone touching me now fills me with disgust. I bear

it on stage, or when I’m with the crew, and if I weren’t so gifted at pretending, I’d be screaming out

loud with anger and frustration every time it happens.

I quit smoking. Yeah, well. I didn’t want to need that damn nicotine. I didn’t want to need anything

or anyone anymore. I’ve had enough of any of that needing shit. I’m finally past the point where I

would kill for a smoke. It gets a little easier every day. Most days anyway.

I dug out some of Grazzo’s old records, and I listen to them sometimes. There’s no one that plays the

sax quite like he does. I thought about giving him a call, but hell if I know what joint in which city he’s

playing tonight. He might not even be in the country. Sometimes I try to recall what it felt like when he

was still around, when we were still a happy family. But the memory has faded to a strange mosaic of

fractured bits and pieces.

Man, I loved being on the road, waking up in a different city every day. The circus of jazz, roaming

from town to town. Constantly being on tour with his buddies. I was just a tiny little fart, but those were

good times. The best. And then that bastard went and never even tried to get shared custody.

“You’re so much like your father,” Lilah always says. And that’s no compliment, coming from her.

* * *

I could’ve asked why, but I didn’t. Neither did anyone else. Jeff never made a big announcement. We

have a new Marcellus, and nobody seems to notice. Or maybe it’s that nobody cares. I gotta admit, it

really doesn’t make much of a difference who says the lines in the end.

“What happened to Keller?” I ask Trey quietly when we’re leaving.

He gives me a completely blank look, kind of scared he might have missed something important.

“To who?”

Is it important? Damn man, the kid was just one of the leads last year. But anyway. I can’t be

bothered to explain, so I just shrug. “Forget it.”

It’s just after five in the afternoon and it’s dark already. The long, empty corridor echoes from our

steps and low voices. The chill of winter hits us harshly as we step outside, and when I draw in a sharp

breath, the icy air stings like needles in my lungs.

“Foggy again,” Andrea mutters, winding her scarf around her neck twice before embracing her own

shivering body. “God, I hate November!”

I don’t know, I kind of like the dark months, but I don’t say that aloud. Steph takes my arm and

presses her freezing body against mine. I resist the urge to push her away.

“Where to?” Dave looks over for guidance as we step onto the misty path and start to leave the

brighter area close to the building behind.

Andrea snorts. “Smart. Because today we clearly won’t be going to where we’ve been going to for

years after rehearsal!”

“To the cafe then?”

“Oh please.”

I can’t hide a small, quick grin. She walks on faster and rolls her eyes as she passes me by. Andie

and I have known each other pretty much all our lives. I don’t think Jeff had any clue on her practically

being my sister when he gave her the role of Ophelia. He seems to believe that she’s the yin to my yang.

If there were anyone I’d be able to talk to about James, it’d probably be her. But I don’t. Actually, if

there were anyone I’d be able to talk to about James, it’d be James.

Were we ever really close, or was it something I imagined because I wanted it? Did he ever really

trust me? Did I trust him? Were we pals? Friends, for Christ’s sake?

I suddenly think of Nick the other day, of him shouting at me, desperately. “Listen to me! Pay

attention to me for one goddamn minute!”

Pay attention. I wanted, I needed to have James’ attention. I had to have all of him. I can still feel

him now, pressed up against me. I can feel his breath trembling on my face, his hands on my back,

pulling me close. The scent of his skin in my nostrils, his taste on my lips. It’s that craving that’s driving

me insane.

Abruptly my feet seem to stop on their own account.

“Danny?” Steph looks at me with mild surprise. I can just make out Cafe Plato in the distance, like a

beehive oozing light in this misty darkness. I don’t answer when I free my arm from her tight grip and

step away.

“Danny?” she repeats, sounding worried. Everyone else has stopped as well and stares. Attention. I

have everyone’s attention. Always.

Call it a gut feeling, but this uneasiness gnawing at my stomach is as bad as it gets. Something about

Keller. Something about the other day. Something about that look on his face, in his eyes. Something

about when I wouldn’t, couldn’t respond. Something alarming. All he asked for was… what the hell did

he ask for anyway? Why was he there? Why did he come to me?

I turn around. Screw this. I’m heading for his dorm. Right now.

* * *

I sit down on the dorm’s freezing front steps and watch as the ambulance pulls out of the driveway. It’s

completely dark now. Fog mysteriously wavers above the grounds. I can hear when the car leaves

campus, that’s when the siren starts to wail. It sounds more and more distorted until it eventually dies

away in the distance. They’re really moving fast.

The few people who’ve crowded at the entrance are staying on for a bit to gossip. Big scandal, right?

Nobody asks me if I know anything about it, and no wonder. What would I have to do with some drugaddicted

punk who got himself a ticket for a one way trip? Yeah, what would I?

Nick looked completely dead. And beautiful, in a bizarre way. White as snow. Perfect like a doll.

Delicate skin in sharp contrast to the raven hair.

As the mad adrenaline rush starts to fade, I’m beginning to feel more and more exhausted. Like all

energy is slowly draining from my body. And the thought crosses my mind that if I hadn’t stopped by

his room tonight, no one else might have. Maybe not for days. Come to think of it, I’ve never really

seen Keller with anyone. He’s got to have some friends, right? He’s got to have somebody.

More and more people are crowding on the front steps now, the news is spreading fast. And from

what I overhear, none of them seem to know Nick. Some vaguely remember “that guy who always wore

black, you know, the one with all the piercings.” “That jerk who always swore a lot?” Yeah, man, that’s

him alright. And apparently everybody knew that he’d had it coming. Assholes.

Thank god the door wasn’t locked. Thank god he was still breathing, however shallowly. Thank

god… thank god for what? It’s not like things couldn’t have been that much worse, is it? Because how

much worse could things get?

I can’t bear to be here and listen to these idiots talking and joking around me anymore. I rise to my

feet to walk away.

In that same moment, James arrives, probably from a late class, and pushes through the crowd to get

through to the entrance. He’s wearing that ugly old coat, and he looks pale, but handsome as ever.