Do I Know You

Brian’s eyes were sore—formulas and numbers swirled in a galaxy through his head. He could already spot a few stars in the night sky when he shut the door of the accounting firm but instead of the usual numbing out to junk food and Netflix, he decided to stop by Tarts, for a burger and a beer.

While he dipped hot chips in sauce, a few men chatted him up but despite feeling lonely of late, tonight he felt tired and was looking forward to his bed. He popped a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth and headed out into the cool drizzle, the streetlights glimmering in the damp street.

'Spare some change?' A slender man in jeans and a sweatshirt sat with his back against the brick building.

'Sorry, no change, just plastic' Brian muttered without looking over.

'Right, I should probably get a QR code eh?' the man chuckled.

Brian paused. A very distinct laugh. It had a familiarity to it he couldn’t quite place.

'Do I know you?' Brian asked.

The man glanced up, lifting one pencil thin eyebrow, then the other—like elevators.

'Browsta!' Brian exclaimed. Beyond a few wrinkles and stubble, Brian recognised the boy he had known long ago. ‘We were at Mayhole’s together! I can’t remember your real name. Tom is it?'

'Close, it’s Tim. Fuck, is that you Brian? I would’ve never recognised you. In a suit and briefcase now? You’re the kind of guy I make my living off of.' Again the lilting laugh that lifted Brian’s spirit.

'You need a place to stay?' The words spilled out of Brian’s mouth before he could think.

'You don’t want my stinkin’ butt at your place, mate,' Tim was apologetic.

Brian shrugged. 'You’re welcome to crash on the couch. Nobody else there but me.'

Although his memory of the foster care home had faded over the years, he remembered clearly how the two of them had got through it together with banter and mischief.

'You have any smokes?' Tim asked.

'Sorry mate, just quit,' Brian replied. 'Nicotine gum?'

Tim shook his head.

The two men wordlessly walked over to Brian’s place, a townhouse, one of many in a row with tidy flower garden beds and well swept paths.

Inside the house, Tim stood with hands on hips scanning the sleek looking lounge room like a real estate agent.

'You’ve done alright for yourself, eh?' His eyebrows did the seesaw thing again.

'Depends how you look at it,’ Brian shot him a sideways look. ‘Drink?’

‘Sure.’

Brian went to the modular bar and came back with 2 glasses of single malt scotch.

He handed one to Tim. ‘So, what’s your story? You’re out on the streets?’

‘Just for the moment,’ Tim replied. ‘I got myself into a little bit of trouble. A drunken brawl. Drug possession. You know, the usual stuff.’

‘Sounds familiar,’ Brian’s mind shuffled through a slideshow of memories—the two of them boozing, smoking, a bit of petty theft now and then.

‘Got out of the slammer today,’ Tim continued. ‘Heading to my sister’s place tomorrow, once I get enough cash together for a bus ticket. Thought I might score a few coins and maybe a one nighter if I hung outside Tarts. Otherwise, I would have headed to the Catholic shelter downtown.’ Tim paused. ‘Enough about me. What’s your story? How did you get so straight?’

‘Well not exactly straight,’ Brian sniggered. ‘Although I did try that out for a while. A wife for 10 years soon after I left Mayhole’s. We had a child together, who I’ve been estranged from. My wife and I made pretty good friends but when I told her I was gay, she didn’t take too kindly. Then she moved away with Lori, my daughter.’

‘And you became an accountant along the way?’

‘Yeh, I always liked numbers. And coming from the streets, putting on a suit and tie appealed to me in a perverse way. Even now, I don’t mind it. Makes me feel like I fit in a bit. Then I go to Tarts or get on Grindr and find someone for a bit of fun. Never anything more than a few nights. How about you Browsa, any relationships…when you’re not in gaol, that is?’

‘Actually, yeh, I’ve been with a few guys here and there. Nothing too, too serious. We even had a dog in my last relationship, the cheekiest little chihuahua. Never really settled down long-term though. Did a bit of training as an actor and planning to try my hand at some theatre.’

‘Coffee or tea?’ Brian asked.

‘Tea.’ Tim was sprawled casually on the lounge by now and Brian was feeling more awake than he had in weeks.

While the water boiled, he wondered if maybe something was not quite right about Tim’s story. The way he spoke was a bit polished perhaps? He shrugged it off and his mind drifted to how cute Tim looked in his jeans and sweatshirt.

Brian returned with a couple of steaming mugs.

‘You remember when that dickhead, Mayhole, made us all sit on a cold concrete floor for hours, demanding that we fess up about who had slashed his tyres?’ Tim asked.

‘Yeh, I remember that, even though I was high most of the time—a lot of it is a blur.’ said Brian, ruefully. ‘I ended up taking the rap just so we could get out of there. I wonder who actually slashed the tyres?’

Browsa smiled widely. ‘Guess who?!’

‘No way, it was you? You kept that one under wraps! You didn’t even tell me.’

‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Bri-Bri.’ Tim grinned.

Brian felt himself getting hard. He surprised himself as he blurted out, ‘You wanna come to the bedroom?’ He looked Tim briefly in the eyes, then looked away. ‘Or maybe, you’d rather just sleep on the couch. Sorry, I don’t mean to be too forward.’ Brian wasn’t sure himself what he was looking for—intimacy, distraction…both?

Tim stepped towards Brian and took his hand. Brian noticed the smoothness of the skin, the manicured fingernails.

‘Coming?’ Browsa gave Brian’s butt a squeeze.

And with that, the two men moved from catching up to moving forwards.

Lips on lips.

Shirts over the head and bare chests.

Pants discarded.

Laughter and moans.

Sweat and semen.

Falling asleep with arms and legs pretzelled around each other, breath intermingling.

Brian’s alarm went off at 6AM as usual. He was lying on his side and turned towards where Tim had lain, but only the imprint remained.

‘Tim?’ he called out. There was no answer and he padded through the apartment to check. No Tim nor any sign of him.

Brian showered and got himself ready for work. As headed into the vestibule, he saw a small piece of paper folded up with his name on it. He unfolded the paper and saw that it was a flyer for a theatre performance uptown called Unknown Man.

The synopsis read: This gritty drama features Des, a young gay man who, grew up in foster care, a life of booze, drugs and petty theft. This play follows Des’ healing journey to becoming an actor and settling down in a long-term relationship with a man he originally met in foster care. This story will have you laughing and crying, sometimes at the same time.

Brian scanned down to see that the play featured Tim Brows in the lead role.

He quickly took his mobile out and plugged Tim’s name into his search engine.

Tim Brows is an up-and-coming actor who has starred in successful hit theatre productions and movies …

Brian skipped down further.

Tim Brows lives with his partner, Louise Eldich, well-known fashion designer, along with their two children, Molly and Ben and their Maltese, Daisy.

Brian scratched his chin, wrinkled his brow, studying the flyer. He turned it over and discovered more writing scribbled on the back side.

Sorry Bri, method acting gone too far? Hope you can come to the show. Browsta.

It was all an act? Brian wondered. He shook his head. Maybe Tim was always acting. They had shared a lot of laughs when they were younger but other than that, he wasn’t sure he knew Browsa at all.

Brian put on his rain jacket and picked up his keys. He caught his reflection in the mirror on the way out. A slight smile lit up his face.

Do I know you? he wondered. Does anybody? Sometimes he felt like he clung to his own identity as much as he did his suit and briefcase.

He straightened his tie and stepped into the rain.