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The moment they saw the aluminum walking aids—no matter how posh he dressed them up—they felt obligated to getinvolved. They started trying to be helpful, which, if he was honest, was never actually helpful. The last time he’d gone to a museum, a security officer tried to wrench his cane out of his hand and shove him into one of the facility wheelchairs.
There had been a scene, and Victor was too embarrassed to ever go back again. And while he wasn’t sure he was going to be visiting Sol Azur again, he wanted to at least have the opportunity to leave with decent memories.
Patting his pocket for his phone, he locked his door, then made his way to the side exit and stepped out onto the street. It was chilly as it slipped into late autumn, and there were fewer people on the streets now that it wasn’t beach season. There was also a collection of low-hanging clouds above him that didn’t promise rain, but they offered the sort of mood he was craving that evening.
He took a deep breath before he glanced around and eventually spotted the café next to the 7-Eleven on the corner. He wasn’t in the mood to eat anything, so he hovered near the bus bench in between both businesses, feeling antsy and restless.
A sleek car, not as nice as he was expecting but also not terrible, pulled up a second before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He gave it a cursory glance.
Your current ride…
Good enough for him. If he was in a snobbier mood, he might have demanded the company send over a better car, but it was hard to say no to the little Honda when all he’d wanted was to blend in for a while. The guy behind the wheel was nothing like he expected though—young with a shock of platinum-silver hair dyed in the way the young people did these days, making him look sort of ethereal and eternal. He looked at Victor through the window with his pretty face, but he made no move to get out and open the passenger door.
Which was just his luck. A driver with an attitude problem. Whatever, he’d dealt with worse.
Victor grabbed the door handle and pulled, and just when the door swung open, his legs decided to spasm. It was the first spasm he’d had all week, and he was unprepared for it, so he hit the pavement with a loud thud of his orthotics, only just managing to brace himself on the side of the car.
“Fuck,” he growled.
The guy was out of the car and at his side in half a second, but Victor had managed to pull himself halfway up, and he turned, throwing himself on the seat.
“It’s fine,” he snapped. “I’ve got it. Get back in the car.”
“But…”
“I said it’s fine,” Victor said. He reminded himself it wasn’t this man’s fault. Up close, the guy was obviously a little older than Victor had first assumed, not that it made a difference. Victor cleared his throat as he used his hands to press his thighs down, making the spasms less obvious. “Please just ignore this so we can go.”
The guy’s brow furrowed, and Victor had a wild thought: he was absolutely beautiful. He looked like he could have been carved from marble if it wasn’t for the slight, pale five-o’clock shadow that came from lazy neglect.
“Okay. You’re not, like, dying, right?”
Victor laughed, unable to help it. He’d never been asked that before. “I’m not dying, no. This just happens sometimes.”
“Cool, cool. Um. Cool.” The guy ran his fingers through his hair. “So. Do you need help or something?”
Victor frowned at him. “I just said no.”
“Okay. Great. You wanna get out of my car, then, or…?”
Victor blinked. “Don’t be ridiculous. I need to find somewhere to eat before we go to the arena, but I really don’t want to walk half a mile for mediocre downtown food.”
“The aren—okay. Wait.” He pulled out his phone, and Victor watched him scroll through his messages. “Can you confirm our meeting time?”
“The service said to be here at six fifteen,” Victor said, his chest a little tight. He hadn’t wanted to explain himself. “When I confirmed, I didn’t bother mentioning that there was a change of plans, but unfortunately, my…partner…isn’t coming.”
“Uh, yeah. We definitely didn’t negotiate a partner. And to tell you the truth, bud, I don’t usually take clients in my car.”
Well. Victor could see why. His car smelled like the inside of a Taco Bell, and there were fast-food cups on the floor. But what the hell was he supposed to do. “Using my car wasn’t in the contract.”
The guy laughed, sounding stunned. “I didn’t think it needed to be? Look, we can—”
“I literally can’t let you drive mine. It uses hand controls, and people who aren’t used to them tend to crash, and I don’t feel like having my insurance rates go up. I was also informed that the service came with a luxury vehicle, so I feel like there’s been some miscommunication.” His voice cracked on the last word.
“Uh,” the guy said with a frown. “Are you okay?”
Victor’s chest started to hurt suddenly, and he rubbed at his sternum. What the hell was that feeling? His eyes went a little blurry and hot and…oh my God, was he about to cry? “Excuse me,” he said, turning his face away.
The man was quiet, but when Victor heard a strange noise, he turned to find him crouched beside the door. This wasn’t the first time Victor had found a grown adult kneeling beside him like that, but for the first time in his life, it didn’t feel infantilizing.
