Authors: Lisa Wilde
H
ENRY hadn’t really talked to Ryan since the morning Annie showed up unexpectedly. They had texted back and forth a bit. After the talk with his mother Thursday night, he had wanted to talk to Ryan. Henry didn’t bother calling him though, just drove home. He wasn’t sure he could cry anymore and if he had to relay all that had happened with his mother, he would for sure.
Now it was Friday night and Henry was meeting him at some club. Ryan hadn’t given him the name of the place, just the address. Henry thought that was weird, maybe it was a gay bar? He thought about doing an Internet search, but then dismissed the idea. He didn’t give a shit, he just wanted to see Ryan, where didn’t matter.
Once Henry was inside, he realized it wasn’t a gay bar. After walking down a corridor lined with pictures of what looked like Vaudeville performers, vintage poster size advertisements for liquor and playbills he entered a large open room with several bars, one each corner. There were crimson drapes held open with gold cording surrounding different sections of the room. Leather banquettes were scattered in front of what appeared to be a main stage. The ceilings were very high and directly above the stage area there was rigging hanging down. The lighting was low and the music high. It felt like something out of Vegas or even Atlantic City.
In one corner of the room there was a man throwing knives, while a woman in an elaborate lamé cat suit splayed herself against a wall with a target painted on it and several knives sticking out of it all ready. Henry went and found a table near the main stage; it didn’t take long for a waitress to come over. Henry was captivated by the knife thrower and wasn’t paying attention; he was startled when the waitress put a hand on his shoulder.
“Shit, sorry.”
“No problem, Doll. What can I get for you?”
“Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, maybe I’ll wait.”
“Wait, is your name Henry?”
Henry looked at her quizzically, “Yeah.”
“Cool. Okay, I have a message for you from Ryan.”
“You do?”
“Yes, he said to sit tight and watch for him. Oh, and he told me to get you a drink, so what would you like?”
“A beer I guess, what do you have?”
“Well, can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure.”
“We have some amazing cocktails, you should try one. It’s on Ryan.” She winked at him.
“
Oh
, all right, what do you suggest?”
“For you…” she tapped her pen against her chin, “I know a Boulevardier cocktail. It’s like a Negroni, except instead of gin we use bourbon whiskey. Warning, it’s really strong, but delicious.”
Henry smiled at her, “That sounds good. I’ll try it, thanks.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back with it.”
Ten minutes later Henry was watching the lights dim above the knife thrower and his unscathed assistant. He had finished half of his drink and kept checking the time on his watch. Ryan should be here by now. He texted Ryan but got no response. The waitress had come back to check on him and now the tables were staring to fill up around him. They were so close together, to close.
The lights above him dimmed. A song came through the speakers,
Lana Del Rey: Million Dollar Man.
The people around Henry began to look up. As the lighting changed, it only took Henry a few seconds to understand what he was seeing. An aerialist was twirling from a hoop above him. It was Ryan. He didn’t need him to slow down his mad spinning to see his face; he’d know his body anywhere. Henry watched him, never looking away; Lana singing about being dangerous, tainted, and flawed as Ryan twisted and turned and stretched above him.
Henry was confused.
What was Ryan doing, and what did this mean?
When it was over, the lights grew dark again people clapped and Ryan was gone. Henry sat and waited, ordering another drink in the meantime. Only a few minutes later, Ryan emerged from a side door near the bar and walked directly over to Henry. He was drinking a bottle of water. When he sat down he had smile on his face, his hair was damp, most likely from sweating.
“Well, what did you think?”
“It was wonderful but I'm confused.”
“Yeah, well… we can talk here, but I'd rather have this conversation in private.”
“Okay, now?”
“Do you want to stay awhile?”
“Not really.” Just then the waitress appeared with Henry’s drink, he regretted ordering it because now he just wanted to leave with Ryan and found out what the hell was going on.
“You don't like it here?” Ryan looked concerned.
“No, I do, but if your giving me the option of being here or alone with you. There's no choice.”
Ryan smiled from ear to ear. “Drink your drink, I’ve got the drinks. I need a few minutes. Why don't you go ahead and I'll meet you.”
“Sure, just come to my place.”
“Unless you want to meet me at the loft.”
“The loft? But-”
“But what? I still have my loft, go there. I won’t be long.”
Henry looked at him uncertainly, but didn’t question it. He just got up and left without drinking the fresh cocktail. He looked back to see Ryan walk up to the bar, Ryan caught his eye and smiled reassuringly. Henry smiled back then turned and left the club.
Henry was waiting on the front step when Ryan arrived in a cab about twenty minutes after Henry’d left the club. They didn’t talk until they were inside and Ryan had locked the door behind them.
“I found the plaque,” he told Henry as he pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed on one of the bar stools.
Henry barely acknowledged the comment. He was looking over the loft, nothing looked out of place. It was as if Ryan had never left. Ryan must have understood what was going through his mind.
“Yeah, doesn’t look like I ever packed, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Henry retorted.
“Come sit down so we can talk. Want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good.” Henry walked over to the sofa and sat down; he watched as Ryan fished his cigarette pack out of his duffel bag.
“So, thank you for the plaque, it was beautiful.” Ryan sat next to him, kicking off his shoes and lighting a cigarette.
“Your welcome, but you need to tell me what the hell’s going on, like right now, Ryan.”
“All right, don’t freak out…but I never left Boston.”
Henry stared at him.
“Should I just tell you everything and then we can do the Q and A?”
“I think that would be a good idea.” Henry told him, unconsciously grinding his teeth.
“Well, after that morning with Rena, I did a lot of thinking. I also found the plaque, thank you for that. Then Shay came and well … I’m not sure how to lay this all out,” Ryan paused from his scattered ramblings to take a few drags of his butt. “So, I realized some things. Dreams change. I was happy there … in New York and on the road. But I'm happy here too. Things got out of control while I was there. I'm not old, but I'm getting too old for some of the shit I was doing. I understand why you were angry. I was angry at myself, too; I just hadn’t realized it yet. I needed to be sure I was doing the right thing, make sure I got myself together. Before I tried to contact you, I needed to make sure I was straight.” Ryan laughed, “Me, straight, that’s funny.”
Henry huffed a small laugh despite his best efforts to stay serious. He was stuck on the Ryan never left Boston bit.
“Here’s the thing, Henry. I did have some treatment for my drug use and while I'm not ‘sober’, I've learned to pace myself. I do have a counselor and I do go to the occasional meeting. When I first got here I went much more. I never went to rehab. I wanted to try it this way first. It’s been good. It helps keep my head in the right space, you know?” Ryan asked rhetorically before continuing. “Far as the club goes, Shay took me there while she was visiting. I kept thinking about it after she left. But it wasn't until after that day my sister was here that I considered it as a possible career move. The stars were aligned and they were hiring an aerial contortionist. I was able to get in there and then I officially made the move to Boston. I just started making a new life for myself. When I reached out to you I wanted to do it with a clear conscience.” Ryan turned to Henry tucking his legs underneath himself on the sofa. “I was ashamed of myself, for so many reasons. I wanted to show you a new, improved me. I'll understand if you aren't interested. If maybe you just wanted to be friends, or not, I get it. I know you have your own stuff to deal with. So…what do you think?”
Henry was trying to process it all. Ryan was here and he was staying and he wanted to be with Henry. Henry stared at him. Ryan looked nervous, biting his nail for a few seconds before reaching back over for his cigarettes. Henry put his hand out to stop him. Ryan let the pack go and slowly sat back.
“So you’ve been here this entire time?”
Ryan nodded.
“And you’re staying?”
Another nod.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about the rehab or whatever?”
“I told you, I was ashamed. I was embarrassed enough about how I acted around you. For you to know it was much more serious than that, I couldn’t take it. Henry, you have to know, I never said to myself, ‘Oh, I think I’ll risk everything and slowly waste my life.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? It’s funny, I never considered myself a weak person before this. So easily led into temptation,” Ryan chuckled, “sounds like I should be in church.”
“Umm, not sure about that one,” Henry told him, smiling.
“It wasn’t until the knee injury that my parents and Rena intervened. Even after that it took a while for me to ask myself how I’d gotten myself into this mess. It’s easy to blame others but the truth is it was all my doing. It was a downward spiral unlike any that I would perform.”
“You’re lucky you figured it out. Some people never do.”
“This is true. I heard someone say in a meeting one day they had ‘
all the time in the world syndrome
’. I think that’s what I was suffering from. I assumed that I was young and had all the time in the world to do what I wanted and I could make it better later. No one was really discouraging me, I had no foundation for truth; I was sinking as fast as if I was in quicksand.
“The longer it went on and the older I got, I lost the ability to cope with the choices I was making. My lapses in judgment compounded over time. I was so over confident, I believed for a very long time that I had the ability to cut it off, whenever. But the desire and thoughts were always there, I didn’t have to voice them but they were present.
I can give up whenever I want, but today is not that day.
If I can stop when I want, why does it have to be today? It doesn’t, I would rationalize, and as long as I didn’t run into any problems, it was all good. My confidence in what I was doing and the control that I thought had over my life was intact. Or, so I fooled myself into believing.”
Ryan was rambling but Henry didn’t care; he wasn’t going to cut him off. It seemed like a dam had broken. Ryan needed this time to purge and Henry was more than happy to give it to him.
“My father is, was, I don’t know, a functioning alcoholic. He was never abusive and always took care of us. He went to work every day. It was something that we all knew, something common in his family. With my mother’s support and his family’s, he was able to do what he needed to do. He took care of himself, now he doesn’t drink at all. I still drink, in moderation, I want to anyway. Alcohol was never my vice, though my counselor would disagree with that. I had to face the uncomfortable truth that I actually do have a problem. My denial was deep and I held steady to that view of my reality. No one could force me to see what was happening, I had to feel it and to own it. I had to want something better to get me to act. I’m all over the place, huh? Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Say whatever you need to. I’m here, I want to listen.”
“I learned that there was no easy way to dig myself out of the hole I’d dug. It took me a long time to fuck my life up. Now I know it’s going to take me a long time to put it back together.
“I didn’t need to be doing what I was doing and I know that no good would come of it. I wanted to be as strong as my father had been. I needed to man up and deal with my shit. I’m not the sum total of what you see, Henry.”
“I know.”
“There are steps that I guess I haven’t done. I definitely don't want to belittle the process. I’m not saying I’m better than anyone else but I didn’t hit rock bottom, thankfully, I caught myself … because of my family and you.”
Henry stared at him not sure what to say to that. He wanted to give him the spiel; you know, “you have to do this for yourself and no one else,” but the words wouldn’t come out.
Ryan continued, “I have to take inventory my life. I know I’m going to stumble.”
Henry opened his mouth to interject, but Ryan stopped him.
“I’m sure of it, just hear me out. I will stumble along the way, but as long as I admit it and own it, I’ll be able to get back up. Besides, I need to stay young and beautiful, and that shit shaves years of your life.” Ryan laughed, trying to hide the strain of nervousness in his voice.