Page 52 of Pieces of Me

Scott toasted him with his beer, his eyebrows raised. “Wow, good job on the degree. Always knew you were a smart fucker.”

“Thanks. But as I’m learning the hard way, brilliant ideas don’t always translate into results. I moved clear across the country because I thought Phoenix was the best fit for my project.” He heaved a sigh. “I’ve been here for three months, basically gotten nowhere, and my savings are gone. In a nutshell, I’m broke as fuck. Which is why I took the Cock Sucker gig, and why I was dressed like that when you saw me.”

Scott looked startled. “Cock…sucker?” he asked faintly. “Jesus, what have you gotten yourself into, Rylan?”

Rylan choked on his beer. “No, no, no, it’s not what you think! Oh my God. I needed cash fast, so I was working for a vendor at Pride, hawking these awful dick-shaped lollipops. Cock Suckers.” He shuddered, licking his lips in remembered horror, as if the sticky residue still remained on them.

Scott’s brow cleared and he seemed vastly relieved. “Oh, the lollipop thing? Really? We were in the booth across the way from you!”

“The gay club promo?” It was Rylan’s turn to be surprised. “That was you? I didn’t want to go over there and suffer by comparison!” He laughed, and Scott gave a slight smile in response. “I stayed far away from the hotties in thongs.” He shook his head in bemusement. “Shit, I can’t believe I was so close to you all day long. What are the odds, that after all these years we’d run into each other on some random street in Phoenix, Arizona?”

He gave Scott an enquiring glance, hoping he’d take up the story, but Scott drank his beer and stayed silent, avoiding Rylan’s gaze. “So what kinds of photos are you trying to take?”

Rylan chewed on his thumbnail, accepting the change of subject for now. “Something I think would be a very powerful human interest story, if I can pull it off. That’s why I’m here.”

Scott snorted. “But why Phoenix, for fuck’s sake? Why not LA, or San Diego?”

“I have a couple of angles I’m trying to work here in particular, a project I’m excited about.” He sighed. “But like I said, it’s not going so well. I’m going to have to think of something else to get by on, and quick.”

Scott didn’t say anything, and Rylan asked, probing gently, “Why are you in Phoenix? Of all places.” Scott shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face.

“It’s where I ended up, Ry,” he replied, his tone distant. “The heat sucks, but I’ve made a life for myself here. A good life, about as far away from Pace, Florida, as I can possibly get.”

“I cried after you left, you know.” Rylan didn’t mean to say that; it just slipped out, and he wished he could take it back when he saw Scott’s eyes grow haunted.

“Believe me, you were the only thing I ever missed about that place.” He looked away again. “I never meant to hurt you. In fact, I kind of thought I’d send for you, once I got settled in California. It―well―” He gave a helpless gesture. “It didn’t happen.”

“Life happened, I imagine,” Rylan said softly. “And if you want to tell me about it someday, I’d love to listen.”

Scott closed his eyes briefly and then snapped them open again, sitting up in one smooth, abrupt motion. “Hey, I might have an idea. Can I see some of your work?”

Rylan nodded and stood, leading the way to the second bedroom of the apartment and pushing open the door. “I have it all on my hard drive in here.”

Scott entered the room, his mouth falling open in apparent amazement. “Shit, Ry!” he exclaimed. “What the fuck?”

He gaped at the high-end camera and editing equipment, including a state-of-the-art computer and two flat-screen monitors set up on a large, battered metal desk. Scott turned in a slow circle, taking everything in. “This stuff has to have cost a fortune! How?”

Rylan bit his lip. “My dad―uh, well, he died about two years ago. Had around fifteen grand in life insurance through his job, so I used it to buy top-of-the-line equipment. If I’m going to have any hope of being competitive in this field, a fifty-dollar Walmart camera isn’t going to cut it.”

Scott glanced at him, sorrow on his face. “Oh, Rylan. Dude. I’m so sorry about your dad.” He raised his hand as if to put it on Rylan’s shoulder, at the last moment reaching down to pick up a camera lens instead. “He was always nice to me.”

“He was a good guy. I miss him.” Rylan cleared his throat. “He had a heart attack one night. Just―went to sleep and never woke up.”

Scott stared at him in horror, putting the camera lens down carefully. “Oh, shit. That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it was rough.” Understatement of the century. Rylan shuddered, remembering the panicked phone call from his dad’s driving partner right as Rylan was walking into class… He jumped in surprise when Scott put his hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Rylan.”

Rylan nodded, grateful for the sympathy. “Me, too. I think the worst part was―realizing I was alone in the world, you know? Both parents gone…”

“What about―” Scott bit off the words, and Rylan saw that he’d made his face carefully blank.

“I know it won’t come as a shock to you, but they divorced about a year or so after you, uh, left.”

Scott shrugged. “The only thing that surprises me is that it lasted that long. What happened?”

Before Rylan could answer, Scott held up his hand to forestall his words. “Never mind. I don’t give a shit. Look, this stroll down memory lane has been awesome, but I gotta get going, so do you―”