Playlist - 1. Track 1) 800,000 - FEiN

March 2nd, 7:33PM

Sebastian Santos imploded.

He wrapped his comforter over him and rolled in his bed, burrito-ing himself in his blanket. On his side, facing away from the window, he stared through the blackness of his bedroom…

The last hints of sunlight had now fully dissipated and, given his inability to leave his bed for the last six hours, he hadn’t turned on his bedroom lights for the incoming night. Now that the dark had come upon the city, it intruded in the room and shrouded over Sebastian, cloyingly.

There wasn’t much he could do at this point; not anymore, he knew.

March 1st, 6:46PM

The evening air was still and at that perfect temperature where you couldn’t even feel it: not too hot, not too cold. It was unnerving.

Sebastian was seated for dinner outside on the restaurant patio. Which, given how pleasant the weather was, should have been a blessing. So why was he so… anxious?

Locked in his own worries, he hardly noticed the food had arrived for him and his boyfriend Emile, seated across from him.

The two men could hardly look any more different from each other. Sebastian often was told his appearance was much like his father's, what with his inky brown eyes, low eyebrows, and solid build to his body. Normally, his hair would grow into poofy black curls, but he preferred to keep it buzzed short. The wispy beard and mustache he grew made his mother often say he looked like a Latino Ezra Pound, though considering the man's tumultuous history, Sebastian wasn't sure to take that as a compliment... not that his mother ever meant to compliment him anyways. She also was more than happy to point out how the half-dozen piercings on his ears made him look "undignified" and would "never let him pass through an airport security checkpoint." You know, mom stuff.

Emile looked much like your typical WASP, with pleasant blue eyes and straight, blonde hair. Unlike Sebastian, he was a lithe, but physically fit man. One of his favorite things to do was go for a run, and fortunately for him, it showed on his body. Sebastian secretly envied Emile’s dedication to physical fitness since they started dating. The two had been officially dating, as of tonight, for three months, making this dinner an anniversary celebration of sorts.

Emile took a bite of his colorful, but indiscernible, vegetarian dish. The fork escaped his lips and immediately, his bushy blonde eyebrows perched. “Wow,” he chittered, “You were right about this place, good for vegetarians.”

Sebastian blinked and murmured, “Hm?”

Oh right. He suggested this place for tonight.

He cleared his throat and explained, “Well the credit goes to Kate. Apparently this is where her parents eat when they visit.”

“They’re vegetarian?”

“Vegan. Total hippies, man.”

Emile rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Eugh.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Aren’t you vegetarian for a similar ‘ethical reason’?” he asked.

On top of Emile’s great physique, he’d also happened to be a ten-year vegetarian. Something that while sometimes a cute quirk, mostly was an inconvenience to Sebastian when the two dined together. At the very least, it would on occasion prove to be a sore spot between them, as the health-conscious Emile never seemed to be amused when Sebastian would point out that french fries can be a part of a vegetarian diet.

Emile’s voice sharpened playfully and said, “Well yeah. But I mean, eggs are a great source of protein. And vegan egg substitute is--”. He made a gagging noise.

A couple behind Emile glanced at the two men after Emile fake-vomited loud enough for them to hear. Sebastian’s knee started to bounce.

“Speaking of Kate…” Emile began, “...Why haven’t I met her yet?”

Sebastian tensed his shoulders. “Um, you wanted to spend our three-month anniversary meeting Kate?” he asked.

“What? No. I’m just saying… well, actually bringing up the anniversary, you know three months in is like the ‘getting-serious’ checkpoint in a relationship, right?” Emile responded.

No. Sebastian did not know that.

And apparently the blank expression on Sebastian’s face gave away his cluelessness.

Emile rolled his eyes once more. “Oh come on, Seb,” he groaned

Sebastian then started to snicker and jested haphazardly, “That sounds like something made up on the CW.”

The snark in Emile’s face softened: out of curiosity or genuine tenderness, Sebastian wasn’t sure. Then, his boyfriend’s hand reached out over the table and brushed against his own. It was warm, warm enough to feel even for the brief moment it made contact with Sebastian… before Sebastian jerked his hand back.

Emile blinked a few times and straightened his shoulders. Then Sebastian blushed.

“This,” Emile firmly said, pointing from him to Sebastian then back to him again, “is serious.”

“Emile…?” Sebastian let out. His leg bounced faster. What was he getting at?

Emile pushed up his square glasses gently and sighed. “Look, Sebastian. I really like you. But I’m twenty-five. You’re twenty-five. We’re adults,” he stated.

Sebastian didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

Emile let out another long sigh. Under his breath, he muttered, “Jesus, okay…” then, at normal volume, he said, “I am too old to be doing this ‘sneaking around’ thing with you. I came out too long ago for that.”

Sebastian wrinkled his napkin.

“I don’t like pretending like we’re not together,” Emile admitted. He tried to meet Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian wouldn’t let him. Then Emile’s tone darkened a smidge as he said, “I don’t like feeling like you’re ashamed of me.”

A frightened heat flushed through Sebastian’s face. “No, Emile!” he stammered, “I-I’m sorry.” He shifted in his seat and racked his brain, trying to think of the right words to say. But it felt like the earth underneath Sebastian was already starting to give way -- like he was just seconds from being swallowed whole.

“Hey, wait. Clara knows about us. We’re cool around Clara, right?” Sebastian desperately offered.

Emile crossed his arms and scooted ever-so-slightly away from the table. “I’m cool with Clara. She’s not your friend. And she only knew because she guessed,” he corrected.

Sebastian scrunched up his napkin even harder. Now he was more-than-welcoming to the thought of falling through the earth and out of this mess.

“You haven’t even told Kate,” added Emile.

“What?” Sebastian choked, “Kate? She’s my co-worker, man.”

Emile pointed at Sebastian, squinted, then noted, “You’ve known her for five years.”

“But we’ve only collaborated for four,” Sebastian huffed.

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Emile replied, with a bit too much volume, as again, the couple behind him glanced at the two.

Sebastian’s posture melted. He was now praying for the ground to split in two beneath his feet.

“Does it not bother that your only friend doesn't know you’re dating a man? That she doesn’t know you’re even into men?” his boyfriend pressed.

Sebastian hadn’t considered even accessing those thoughts -- those thoughts on how he “felt” about being gay. Besides a handful of drunken make-out sessions in a shadowy corner at a party, his only real experience with men was with the guy sitting right in front of him. The guy who was clearly starting to lose his patience.

“Kate is my friend in the way those two old dudes from the Muppets were friends,” Sebastian floundered. Most people did not know that Sebastian did have a secret affinity for the Jim Henson company, Emile being one of the very few exceptions.

“Do you really think those two aren’t just old, gay bickering husbands?” Emile poked back.

Sebastian conceded with a squint in his eyes.

“Naveen is my friend,” he said indignantly, not-so-obviously trying to change the topic.

Like a chessmaster, Emile countered, “And Naveen doesn’t know either. Plus, he’s your roommate, not your friend.”

“Well, he thought of us friendly enough to introduce me to you,” Sebastian replied.

“As his ‘he-thinks-you’re-heterosexual-and-this-is-not-going-to-lead-to-anything-homoerotic’ roommate,” Emile spat.

God, why did Sebastian always fall for the smart ones.

A few seconds of silence settled between them, as if the two were now preparing new arguments to present each other with.

In a gravelly voice, Sebastian finally admitted, “I don’t see where this is going.”

Emile flopped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. Another second passed by, until he said, “Nowhere, Seb. This is going nowhere.”

Sebastian’s boyfriend, though it seemed not the case for much longer, stood from his chair and pulled out his wallet. He fished around for some cash before Sebastian blurted out, “Wait, what are you doing?”

A shaky breath exited Emile’s lips. “We’re done, Sebastian,” he stated.

Sebastian gulped. His mind fully turned on.

Before Sebastian could say another word, Emile planted two twenty dollar bills firmly on the table and then, almost-tenderly, told him, “I’m not going to out you, Sebastian. Not that there’s really anyone in your life to out you to.”

Fair.

“But you can’t love me and hide me away. Or anybody for that matter. You have to be real about yourself,” Emile said. He then looked out to the street alongside the patio. To the open air, he mused aloud, “There’s a whole lot more life to live once you start.”

And Emile left.

Sebastian’s body stiffened, and his mind detached itself from it

He analyzed the situation he was in:

Emile had just dumped him. This was not a difficult thought to process, nor a difficult fact to accept. Sebastian knew better than to fight against the current.

That left him with the choice of either letting this destroy him, or he could just live through it. He chose the latter.

After approaching this conclusion, his mind reeled a full 180.

Sebastian told himself that he was determined not to let this break-up plunge him into the darkest depths of the earth.

Because Emile left, and there was not much Sebastian could do about it at this point.

March 2nd, 7:45PM

Well so much for not plunging into the darkest depths of the earth.

THUD-THUD-THUD!

A knocking noise from his front door stirred Sebastian out of his misery-stew.

He groaned. He completely forgot that he ordered delivery. He was finally getting comfortable in his bed after spending all day in it “processing.”

Robotically, he pulled one leg off his bed. Then the other. The hardwood floor felt cool to his bare feet.

He remained wrapped in his comforter and shuffled along, following the only light in his bedroom: the beams slipping in under his door from his and Naveen’s shared living space.

Another groan exited his mouth once he approached his bedroom door.

Finally letting some light in, it burned his eyes for just a moment. When his sight adjusted, he could see that there, across their living room and by the front door, stood Naveen.

Naveen and Sebastian did not know each other very well. They’d been living together for over six months, but Sebastian had only moved in after one of his clients made an off-hand comment about moving to a new place. He had been crashing on Kate’s couch for far longer than any person should be, and, though he’d never admit it, his extended stay was mostly out of complacence rather than a lack of availability or affordability. Kate’s less-than-gentle encouragement to take advantage of the vacancy eventually found him living with Naveen.

Sebastian had been lying on Kate’s couch for so long one of the cushions had a permanent indentation through it, so at least he finally had his own bed to leave butt-prints in.

However, Naveen and Sebastian had a tacit understanding between them in the way most men do. The two hardly talked to each other. Emile’s curt description of them as “roommates,” and not “friends,” was begrudgingly accurate.

Naveen had just finished quietly thanking the delivery person and shut the door behind him as Sebastian took in the world outside his bedroom. Naveen seemed to be in the middle of a shower or something as he only had a towel wrapped around his waist and his deep copper skin glistened with moisture.

There was a sort of handsomeness to Naveen. His face was solid and relatively inexpressive except for a recurring furrow of his thin, long eyebrows. His hair was usually sturdy and shaped like a politician’s, though currently it was a wet mess. A cloudy, rugged darkness lay below his eyes and he had perfectly shaped stubble, of which Sebastian envied.

Naveen turned on heel and nearly dropped the white plastic bag of take out upon looking at Sebastian. “Whoa!” he yelped.

Sebastian didn’t say anything and just scooched forward. With one hand, he clutched the blanket tight around him, and with the other, he tried to swipe the bag from Naveen. But Naveen pulled it back.

“What the fuck is with you, Sebastian?” Naveen questioned with a sharp note of concern to his voice.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, give me my food.”

“Are you sick?” Naveen asked.

Sebastian didn’t have time for all these questions, he had sulking to do.

He reached forward and snatched his food from Naveen.

Naveen stood there, puzzled.

Then, Sebastian turned away from his roommate and began the slow shuffle back to his bedroom where he could mope in peace. However, a few steps in, over his shoulder he heard Naveen make a noise.

“Eh… is there… something you want to talk about?” Naveen said after awkwardly straightening his broad shoulders.

Sebastian turned his head halfway over and gave Naveen an exhausted look. Then he turned forward and slinked to the direction of his bedroom door

Naveen made another noise, this one more like a low groan.

Sebastian could hear Naveen head his own way back once he got to his bedroom door. He wrestled between balancing the take out bag around his wrist and trying to open the bedroom door with the same hand.

However, something gnawed at Sebastian just then.

Curiosity got the better of him. Well, it was the only emotion Sebastian had been feeling all day besides “like shit,” so he figured his brain was starving for literally any other sensation. “Did… Did you know that Emile is bi, Naveen?” he asked without turning.

“What?” he heard Naveen cough, “Did you not know this? Aren’t you two sort-of friends now?”

Sebastian didn’t say anything. But he did turn to look back at Naveen, who had now approached Sebastian ever-so-slightly. He was peering at Sebastian with a judgemental eye.

“Well, yes, Sebastian. I do know Emile is bisexual,” Naveen said. Then, in a pointed tone, he asked, “Is him being bisexual a problem to you?”

Sebastian nearly dropped his food as he jumped out of his skin. “What? No! Literally, no, not at all!” he shouted, just like a cool person who is in total control of his emotions would do.

Naveen raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Sebastian leaned against his door and slowly slunk down. The blue-and-white comforter he was wrapped in bunched along his back as he slid. He placed the bag of take-out beside him and stared at it; he couldn’t look at his roommate. Earnestly, he asked, “That night… you know, like… I got to ask, were you trying to set me up with Emile?”

Though the majority of Sebastian and Naveen’s roommate relationship had been just that: roommates, just about a month into Sebastian’s new residence, Naveen called him to “hang out.” Sebastian agreed to “hang out,” and went out to a bar to meet him, where he’d later find out what actually happened.

It turned out that Naveen, who worked for a huge radio station, had a recent guest come in for an on-air interview during one of the many shows Naveen helped produce: the guest being the up-and-coming actress Clara Ducasse. Apparently, Clara had taken a liking to Naveen’s flat personality and invited him to join her and her agent for drinks after the show.

Naveen, Sebastian surmised, felt a bit uncomfortable being with not just one, but two strangers, and yet also felt obliged to remain amicable with the actress. So he phoned up the one person he knew had little other friends to hang out with on a Friday night: Sebastian.

And so that night Sebastian tagged along to a bar with Naveen as confused-social support to meet Clara Ducasse and her young agent: a shrewd man named…

“Emile?” Naveen mused aloud. In the present day, Naveen was now fully confused as to where Sebastian was going with his questioning. He leaned against the futon in their living room, inches away from Sebastian’s door.

Sebastian rubbed at the back of his neck from under the comforter. “Yeah…” he breathed.

“Was I supposed to?” Naveen asked with genuine concern.

Sebastian stammered for a moment and said, “No. It’s just that--”

A loud creak came from the other side of the living room. Naveen’s bedroom door had opened slightly, and a head popped out.

A woman, a ridiculously glamorous woman, looked out. Her hair, though a bit wet in the moment, bounced around her head in beautiful, black curls. Her brown complexion had warmness in its undertones so that even in the middle of the night, she glowed. Along her shoulders, freckles lined her body, like they were tasteful accents to her beauty.

Sebastian had to pry his jaw off the floor.

She squinted her eyes like she couldn’t quite see right and then she pulled on a pair of round, thin-rimmed glasses. “...Naveen?” her rich voice quizzed, “Are you coming back to bed?”

Over his shoulder, Naveen called out to the supermodel, “In just a second.” Then to Sebastian, he said brusquely, “I am not entirely sure what you are saying Sebastian, but this might not be the best time.”

The woman must have not seen poor Sebastian thrown along the floor like a defeated animal, as she exited the room and danced her way to Naveen also wearing nothing but a towel.

Naveen leapt from his position against the couch. “Ah, Audrey! My roommate’s here!” Naveen quickly explained.

Her brilliant brown eyes met Sebastian’s for a moment, before she looked back up at Naveen. She tilted her head. “So? He’s gay, isn’t he?” she asked.

The young woman asked it so innocently, Sebastian was certain she was oblivious to the absolute bomb she’d ignited in their apartment.

He couldn’t help but make a strange coughing noise.

Naveen glanced between his “guest” and roommate, then stated, “Sebastian’s not gay.” Then another glance between them. A light turned on in his brain, and in a mildly hushed tone, he asked, “Wait… are you gay?”

Sebastian dropped his head. This was becoming too much for him. The nonsense before him playing out like a 2000’s “I didn’t know you were gay” sitcom episode had him completely removed from his post-break-up mourning period. After a long pause, he whipped his finger in a circle above his head and said, “Coh-rrect!” while maintaining eye contact with the floor.

“Did you not know?” the girl earnestly cried out.

Naveen stammered, “Do you know him, Audrey?”

“No. It’s just… Isn’t it obvious?” the girl, Audrey, replied. Her thick lips creased into an unsure smile.

Sebastian felt his cheeks go hot. His head bolted upwards. “What do you mean it’s ‘obvious’?” he gasped.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she pointed out.

Sebastian tightened his lips, then let out a deep, long breath through his nose.

No one moved. The room fell silent. At first it was awkward, then it became comfortable, and then it lasted far longer than it should have so it was back to awkward.

Audrey sat down next to Sebastian on the floor. She tightened her legs together and pulled up her towel just a tad. With the slightest hint of a quiver to her voice, she asked, “Does anyone else know?”

Sebastian actually chuckled and swiftly answered, “Not really. Just you two now. And…”

“Emile,” Naveen breathed out. It seemed to Sebastian that Naveen had just put two and two together.

His roommate squatted on the floor to the other side of Sebastian, pushing the plastic bag of now-slightly-cold Chinese food away. Naveen’s face was always a bit hard to read, but Sebastian could uncomfortably see that his roommate had genuine concern for him.

“You guys were dating,” Naveen concluded.

“He dumped me,” Sebastian explained. He pulled the styrofoam container into his lap and kicked the plastic bag away. It defeatedly crinkled as it swept under the futon.

Audrey cleared her throat. “I’m not intruding, am I?” she said.

Sebastian wanted to scream “YES!” This was his melodrama to play out. It didn’t make sense for a stranger to suddenly care about his “feelings” and his “problems” or whatever. And he didn’t want it, no matter how beautiful the stranger may be.

But he just offered a half-smile and said, “It’s cool.”

“You’re the roommate… Sebastian, right?” Audrey asked.

Sebastian nodded and returned, “And you’re Audrey, I heard? You’re Naveen’s…?”

Naveen and Audrey looked to each other, wordlessly daring the other to finish the sentence.

“...Okay then,” Sebastian said. He opened his chinese food and plunged into his now-lukewarm mei fun.

Again, the room was quiet.

Then Audrey scooted away and stood upright. “Well then,” she said, “We’re going to get dressed and then we’re going to get you better.”

Naveen knit his eyebrows. Audrey gave him a look which prompted Naveen to defeatedly murmur, “Sure.” She pulled Naveen up from the ground and the two went to Naveen’s bedroom.

Sebastian hardly looked up to watch them leave.