Strangers.

“A great while ago the world begun, 

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 

But that’s all one, our play is done, 

And we’ll strive to please you every day.” 

The applause was thunderous, the globe theatre echoing with the words that had lasted for 400 years. Twelfth Night. Callum grinned, his hands aching as he continued to clap for the now bowing actors. Lila had been brilliant as Olivia tonight. He wolf whistled loudly, the sound cutting through the clapping, and Lila gave him a wink. Callum jerked his head towards the doors and Lila nodded briefly, then returned her attention to the crowd. As Callum joined the surge of groundlings leaving the theatre a familiar laugh reached his ears and his breath caught, thorns of memory threading through his throat at the sound. Surely not. It could not be, not when he had just finished watching Twelfth Night of all things. Almost unwillingly he turned, his heart sinking as he spotted the source of the laughter. It was him. Jamie. The first man he’d ever loved. The one from before. 

It had been years since he had thought about Jamie Finn. Callum couldn’t look away. He felt like he’d fallen back through time. Jamie had certainly grown more beautiful over the years. Magnetic pale eyes as striking as ever, half obscured by the curling blond hair Callum had never been able to convince him to grow out while they were at school. It was jaw length now, tumbling around a face more sharply angled than he remembered, but it was recognisably still Jaime. A silver chain glinted below his shirt, and Callum felt his pulse begin to race. He found himself pushed towards the doors by the crowd, Jamie blinking in and out of his peripheral vision as the people between them thinned. They were within touching distance now, Callum’s shoulder brushing against his back as they were jostled towards the doors. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and closed the distance between them.

“Jamie?” It came out as a question and Callum immediately regretted having spoken, his hand falling away from Jamie’s arm. Callum would be a stranger to him now. After a long moment of silence, Jamie shook his head sheepishly. 

“Sorry, this is going to sound awful but where do we know each other from?” Callum breathed a sigh of relief. He had not been recognised. Jamie’s voice was smoother now, the cracks of adolescence missing. The quizzical expression that had been so endearing when they were young grew on Jamie’s face, and Callum realised that he hadn’t offered an answer.

He opened his mouth to reply and realised that he was shaking. He felt sick. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bare to explain that he had been Jamie’s first girlfriend. To explain how he had transitioned. To dig up the grave of who he used to be for someone who would probably hate him for it. 

“We don’t. It was a mistake.” he said roughly, looking down and noticing Jamie’s trainers. They were nice, interesting trainers, he thought, that he was definitely not using to distract himself from the man wearing them. Lifting his gaze he smiled tightly, not quite meeting Jamie’s eye. “Well, guess it was nice to meet you?” he offered, trying to ease his smile into something more relaxed. 

“No wait, I’m sure we’ve met. You seem familiar.” It was the last thing Callum wanted to hear. He taken testosterone injections for almost six years now, had had surgery to change his appearance to match who he was. He looked nothing like the sad little girl he had been when Jamie knew him. At least, he hoped not. 

“Forget it dude,” He brushed past the other man without looking back, the words leaving a bitter flavour in his mouth. “I thought you were someone else.” 

“How’d you know my name then?” Callum closed his eyes, his jaw clenched as Jamie matched the step he had taken with one of his own. 

I see what you are, you are too proud.

But, if you were the devil, you are fair. 

“Look, Jamie,” he began, but his throat closed with fear before he could say another word. Not the truth then, but perhaps something close enough to it would suffice. “We did go to the same school, Branksome Park. My name is Callum, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me.”

“I am.” That stopped Callum in his tracks, taking his turn to be confused. 

“What makes you say that?” he asked warily. Jamie smiled, and Callum found himself growing warm. He remembered that smile. It was why he had noticed Jamie in the first place, half a lifetime ago when they were hardly more than children. 

“Because you’re beautiful.” It was so like Jamie, to say something like that. He had hardly changed at all. Callum’s lips twitched, something like hysterical laughter threatening to erupt.

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the guys.” he managed instead. What was he doing, entertaining this flirtation when it could go nowhere? He didn’t have time to decide on an answer. 

“Callum,” Lila’s voice came as a shock, and a grateful one. As soon as his conversation with Jamie had begun, it was ending, Callum resolutely ignoring how much he did not want it to as he turned his attention to his friend. 

“Hey Lil, great show.” he said, and pulled away from Jamie. This time, he let him go. 

The next morning Callum woke, his head pounding as his heartbeat roared in his ears. Wincing at the bright light of the morning, he blindly felt for his phone on the bedside table and squinted at the screen. He gingerly put a hand to his head and lowered the brightness, before actually reading through the notifications he had. Three snapchats from Lila, two texts from his mother and one from Billy, the guy he’d been hooking up with recently. An Instagram request. He opened the request first, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and then almost dropped his phone. It was from Jamie. 

A line from the play. Callum would have laughed if it didn’t hurt his head to move, and he clicked accept. Maybe, he thought as he reread the message with a smile, Jamie wouldn’t mind him as he was. 

Ay me detested, how am I beguiled!