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Adrian holds his arm out, turning it slowly in the clinical bright of the hospital hallway. It's mostly shaven, the remaining fur a mere layer of stubble scattered with a plethora of stitches where the cuts have been sealed. It's a tough sight to stomach.

Compared to his right arm, with it's partially shaven underside and only a pawful of stitches, it's a shocking sight in its newly-unbandaged state. The memories of him bleeding out that come along with it don't make this any easier for me either.

"Not a great look, huh?"

I shake my head slowly, unable to tear my eyes away from it.

He did that to himself. He made every single cut.

"How does it feel?"

"It feels, uh, breezy." He runs his right paw slowly and gently along his exposed arm. "But otherwise pretty normal."

"That's good, at least."

"Yeah. I look like a wreck though," he mutters. I keep staring. "You know, when I used to cut I would always wear a bunch of colorful wristbands when I went out, mostly pride stuff, so that people wouldn't notice."

"You'd need a hell of a lot of wristbands for that," I proclaim, nodding at his arm.

He laughs, somehow. It doesn't make sense to me.

"Yeah, that's true. It was never this bad before."

"Adrian..."

"Do you think I should stick to longsleeves? Or maybe I could get some of those faggy long gloves, rainbow patterned, naturally." He presents his paws in an exaggeratedly campy limp-wristed motion. "You know, like those fingerless ones, I could really go for that rainbow-goth look right now. Do you think it would suit?" He beams with nervous energy.

I want to match his enthusiasm so badly, but I can't bring myself to. In truth I feel numb.

"I'd stick with longsleeves." I say, deadpan.

He frowns and nods slowly.

"Hey, Kalie, do you want to know what the best part about having both arms free again is?"

"What's the best part?"

"This is."

He steps forwards and wraps me in his arms, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe. Warmth overwhelms me, and it comes from more than just his closeness. I wrap my arms around him in return, though I consciously tone down the tightness of my embrace, not wanting to hurt him any more than he's already been hurt.

He makes a cute, happy humming sound and I can't help but crack a smile.

*

Everything has felt off today.

As if time hasn't been obeying any laws.

We got up and got ready. I barely even registered what was happening until we were on our way to the hospital.

We caught a crowded morning bus and didn't chat much.

I think we were both nervous.

We arrived and had to wait a while longer for his appointment.

We stayed quiet. My thoughts were left to brew on past days and fret over the future.

So many questions and fears and uncertainties.

How little I knew mere weeks ago.

How much I have changed now.

Those twenty minutes dragged on for hours.

Adrian was shipped around for a check up, for formalities and talks. Then he got his bandages removed and finally, after some gawking and embracing, we left.

From our first four-armed embrace since the incident to arriving back at my apartment I'm fairly certain no time has passed at all.

Yet here I am now, and life keeps moving.

Job applications. No callbacks yet.

I text Ryan to confirm the time of his arrival, about three in the afternoon

I finally reply to Eve.

She sent me a text in the middle of the night, while I was soundly asleep, that read:

Date went well wolf boy. Seeing him again Friday! Call any time past 5 and I'll tell you all about it xx

I smile every time I read it, though I couldn't bring myself to reply to it until now. I don't know quite why. I guess all I wanted to do was be there, beside Adrian, from waking up beside him all the way until we got back from the hospital.

I tell Eve it's great news, and that I'll call her later when I'm free. I tell Adrian about the text too, he flashes a sly smile and says he already knows, she texted him something similar.

We make some lunch and eat together.

He's changed his outfit, wearing a plain black longsleeve top that neatly covers his stitches.

It's nice to be here with him, eating and talking, but a sort of vague malaise hangs over me. I quickly realize why.

I don't want to ask the question, but he hasn't bought it up and I don't feel like I can let it lie.

"So, have you decided when you'll head home?"

He makes a face.

"I suppose I should get out of here soon," he says. I don't exactly know how I feel about that or what I should say so my muzzle stays shut. He's probably right that he should get going, it only makes sense for him. The apartment will be quiet though. "I mean I've been here a few nights and my arm's better now, so, yeah. I don't want to get in your way. I'll start packing in a few minutes."

"No it's not like that. You don't have to feel rushed."

"I've relied on your generosity too long already Kale. I really should get going."

"But, I mean, are you going to be okay? Going back there I mean. You know there are still some... stains. And the memories... I don't want you to-"

"I'm feeling stronger. Really I am. I'm not going to lie to you, it won't be easy settling down again, but it's something I need to do at some point and I don't think leaving it in limbo will help me."

"I've enjoyed you being here."

He stops and smiles at me, but his ears droop and his eyes appear dulled, an obvious sadness being contained within him.

"I've enjoyed it too. But I need to move on, and so do you. You've got a lot going on in your life. You don't need me here making everything even more complicated."

"It's really not like that Adrian. Honestly, I think having you here has helped me stay grounded."

The corners of his muzzle twitch, but I can't read him. I don't know what's going on in his head.

"I should go." He says. "If not for you, then for me. I need to move on."

I want to argue, so damn badly, but there's nothing I can say. There's no untruth to refute, nothing I feel like I can add. If he says this is better for him then I should trust him.

I hope I'm not making a mistake when I say: "Okay. But remember, if you need me you can call me. If you think you can't take it, or that you'd be happier back here, just say the word and you can come back."

He nods a short brief nod, flashes a half smile and leaves the table without another word, heading toward the bedroom, doubtless to pack his things.

It all leaves me feeling a bit dazed.

It's not long until he's packed and leaving. I tell him that I'm meeting Ryan later, and he wishes me luck, not showing much emotion past vague goodwill. I tell him I'll answer his calls even if I'm busy, that I'll be there for him if he needs me. He thanks me blankly and assures me he'll be fine.

Then he's gone, and the apartment suddenly feels quiet, eerily so. More than that it feels empty.

I think about calling Eve but she'll still be at work. I apply for a couple more jobs then lose all interest and drive before getting distracted by the internet, soon enough listlessly scrolling through news and updates.

My phone goes off and I grab at it immediately, my heart already starting to beat fast. It's only Marty. He's texting asking if we're on for tomorrow or if we should reschedule. I confirm that tomorrow works but I need to double check if Adrian is free.

I stand up from my computer chair, walk over to the living room and stroll circles around my sofa before collapsing onto it with a sigh. I close my eyes and listen. I can hear nothing but my body and the ever-present soft electronic hum of modern living.

I hope Adrian's okay. I want to call him, but I know I should give him space and that he'll call if he needs me. The paranoid side of my brain is terrified that he's only going home to get out of sight so that he can finish himself off unnoticed. It's awful and stupid and illogical and I know it's not the case but it gnaws at me anyway.

I wonder what Ryan's going to say when he gets here. Nothing good, I'm certain of that. I just hope he really is over-blowing things, as he said might be the case. Of course I'll help if he needs help, but if something in my life would just be fucking easy for once I wouldn't mind that.

Here I am, complaining about my life when the people around me are...

Well, they have their own problems.

Adrian...

Eve.

I could barely believe it when she told me everything yesterday. I don't think it has fully sunk in even now. Eve depressed? Part of me still wants to believe it's some kind of sick joke.

When did my life turn into this?

I was happy. I had a future, not too bright but it seemed stable. I was having fun. I was ignorant.

Now I'm a constant mess of worry and doubt.

Ever since I met Ryan things have spun further and further out of my control. I shouldn't hold it against him, and I don't really, but I can't say I'm particularly looking forward to seeing him.

A cigarette would be perfect right now.

Fuck.

This has all felt like a waking dream, or perhaps a nightmare, ever since that night I first saw him. Everything has changed for me. I learned how blind I have been, found out a lot about those closest to me and got mixed up in a tangled web of emotion and actions. Somewhere along the way I lost track of my own feelings.

I don't know if I've had a single moment to truly stop and think in quiet, all by myself, since... since I found Adrian drenched in his own blood.

I thought he was dead.

I can feel the familiar chill of panic building and creeping through me, my heart rate increasing. I have to push that mental image out of my head.

Deep breath.

Exhale.

I'm okay.

Everything will be okay.

*

I open the door to Ryan's smiling face and for a moment his familiarity and charm help calm me.

I'd almost forgotten how hot he is, but seeing his curvaceous form now, silhouetted against the door frame, him dressed in well-fitting and high-quality clothing - notably an eye-catching pink polo that somehow leaves me desperately wanting to tear it off and get my paws working over the fur and soft belly beneath - reminds me why I was so attracted to him in the first place.

I invite him in after leering for only a moment longer than I probably should have. He steps inside and examines my apartment with with slow, sweeping motions of his head.

"Not as nice as yours," I declare. "And not as tidy either, but it does well enough for me."

"No," he says. "I like it."

Ushering him toward my dining table I sit myself opposite after fixing us both a coffee.

"So..." I begin.

"So." He echoes. His muted tone and lack of verbosity since his entrance remind me coldly of the context of this meeting.

We stare at one another in awkward quiet, but I decide to let the silence linger until the husky builds up the courage to say whatever he needs to say.

I use the time to admire his handsomeness and let my mind wander. That youthful face, those vibrant eyes, his shapely figure. It all suits my tastes to a tee. No wonder at all why I followed him through the club. No wonder at all why I went along with his advances, though it would be unfair to pin all that on his appearance. His demeanor, confidence and delivery all had something to do with it too. What I do wonder, however, is whether I would be better off if I had never met him in the first place.

There's no point thinking about it. He's here in my apartment, in front of me, right now. I can't change the past. I should at least try and take some control of my future.

"I feel a bit silly," he mutters finally, all the confidence, showiness and slick-tongued talk of our first few meetings apparently drained out of him.

My stomach sinks as an anxiety reaction builds in me once again, the phenomena fast becoming a familiar feeling. The Ryan in front of me, he looks the same as the Ryan I first met, but he's very different.

What the hell has caused this?

I consider my response to his befuddled opening, deciding to keep things simple and striving to keep the fear from my voice as I ask: "Why's that?"

He indicates the two of us with a wave of his paw.

"Me being here like this, making such a big deal over... I don't know. I just don't like the idea that I'm wasting your time, you know?"

"Sure. But you're not wasting my time Ryan. Even if we talk and end up deciding none of this was a big deal, there's nothing wrong with opening up about your worries." I manufacture a smile and force myself to wear it. "I'm here to help, or just listen, but I'm not gonna judge you for getting worked up over nothing. That doesn't matter, what matters is making you feel better."

He finds his own, brief, smile and seems to calm, his body visibly losing tension as he exhales.

Regardless of my fears it feels good to be able to help him, better to be able to see the effect I'm having so clearly. I push aside intrusive thoughts and lingering concerns and focus on the here and now. I'm determined to do my very best for him as I wish I had done for Adrian.

"Thanks Kale, it means a lot to know you feel that way. We haven't known one another for so long, and maybe I should have turned to somebody else for a kind ear and advice, but I feel close to you, I really do." He closes his muzzle tight and grimaces. "And..." He stretches out the word and I notice his paws shaking before he clasps them tight against his mug to disguise the motion. "On top of that, parts of this directly concern you, so I thought it would only be right to get your thoughts on it."

The fluttering anxiety inside me flares up and I have to give my all to simply stay silent and still. This is about me? At least, partially. I exhale slowly and then deliberately take a long sip of my coffee.

"Well, I appreciate that greatly. And if I've caused you any distress than I'd like to apologize for it right aw-"

"No, that's no it, it's..." He makes a dissatisfied sound and shakes his head. "I'll explain in time. I've got, well, I guess I've got a lot I want to say." I nod once in response and wait to see wheat he's got to say. There's a long pause. "I'm sorry, this is difficult for me."

"It's not easy opening up about what's worrying us. I think that's only normal."

"It's more than that for me. I'm so used to parading around and acting confident, even arrogant. I'm used to being in control of whatever situation I'm in. I'm giving all of that up for this. And then, what's more is, is-" His voice catches, a sudden emotional rush hitting him. He presses his fingertips against his eyes and rubs in small circles around them before continuing. "What's worse is you're going to hate me after this. You'll see me for the spiteful, messed-up lowlife I really am."

I try and fail to find the words to respond. My heart thumps loudly, drowning out all background noise. All I'm really conscious of is myself and him. He looks utterly weary, depleted and dejected. The frenetic worry present in him from our last meeting gone and replaced with a sort of resigned dread and pervasive sense of uncertainty.

I can't let him wallow in his own doubts like this. No matter what he's about to tell me, no matter how this conversation goes, I said I would be here to support him and that's what I intend to do. I fight back my own bubbling anxiety and tell him I'm certain I won't hate him for telling the truth. He doesn't respond immediately and instead leans back in his chair, frowning darkly.

"Maybe," he says, his emotionless tone telling me he doesn't believe it at all. "But, anyway..." he leans forward again, his fingers mingling erratically with one another on the table, giving away his nerves plainly. His veil of stability dropped, he no longer attempts to mask his emotional state. "You know, I'm so used to standing behind a maze of smoke and mirrors and theatrics that peeling all that away is a struggle for me. Not that I'm complaining, if I wasn't awash in such pretense in the first place I wouldn't be having this problem. But, I guess I'll just start talking then."

"Okay." I say plainly, a whole mess of doubts and a cyclone of confusion occupying my mind. "Go ahead."

There's one final, lingering moment of hesitation, and then he begins.

"Marty and I... Things haven't been going so well between us."

I nod slowly.

"I've noticed." I say, speaking methodically, doing my best to tread lightly around the issue. He nods. "You've each warned me against fully trusting the other. Honestly it has left me a little wary. I haven't been sure what to believe or what the hell has been going on with the two of-" I catch myself and change the course of my speech. "Regardless, I'm here for you now and I'll listen, and in spite of what Marty has said I'll take you at your word."

For now.

That's what part of me wants to add, but there's no point in saying it. Until the dust settles on all of this I won't know for sure who or what to trust.

He nods once and then his eyes flicker back and forth, the husky apparently deep in thought. "I can't blame you for being unsure and I wouldn't blame you for not trusting me, even now." He draws a sharp breath. "I want to be frank with you Kale. I have kept a lot of things from you. Both of us have."

"Well, I knew that already. You've each surprised me several times with revelations about your life or your actions that I wasn't told upfront. Like you telling me that the argument with Marty on our first night was fake, or Marty telling me that he's a Konroy and has access to the kind of connections and money I could barely imagine."

"He took a while to tell me that too."

"I don't really blame him for that, he has his reasons. But, yeah, I suppose I'm used to your secretive ways by now."

"There's still a lot you don't know."

I suppose it shouldn't affect me so deeply to hear something like that at this point, but it still sends a shiver down my spine and I feel my tail flick involuntarily. Adrian, Eve, now Ryan.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

He lets out a short, harsh, almost mean-spirited laugh targeted squarely at himself.

"I'm sorry Kale - I really am - about all of this. I found you, a guy I genuinely like and then I drag you into all the bullshit and drama that surrounds my life." His muzzle contorts into a sneer and he shakes his head slowly. "By now you've likely already realized I'm a fuck-up, if not you will by the time I leave. God, part of me still hopes you'll want to keep dating me after all this, that's how fucking pathetic I am."

I hear the same kind of self-resentment and lack of worth in his words as I've heard in Adrian's and it scares me. He goes quiet and rests his head in his paws, defeated. I reach out and softly stroke the side of his arm.

"Hey, Ryan. You're beautiful, you're a great actor, you're charismatic and exciting." My gaze shifts down for a moment, then back up to catch his eyes. "Plus you've got a ten out of ten tail and butt." He lets out a sound that's two thirds laugh, one third sob and it's both sad and adorable at the same time. "My life has been pretty crazy these last few days, and right now I don't know what I want to do with my love life, but don't just assume I won't want to date you. Opening up can't be the wrong thing to do. Even if we don't work out I know you won't have trouble finding someone else to dote on you, and whoever you end up with will be lucky to have you. I would be lucky to have you."

He lifts his head up and does his best to restore his composure, mostly recovered from his moment of dejection, though his ears are still flattened.

"That's if I can minimize the drama," he corrects.

I laugh and grin. He takes my paw in his, I give him a squeeze and he visibly cheers a little.

"That might help," I admit with a grin. Our paws part ways after a few seconds of warm closeness as Ryan prepares himself to continue talking.

"I want to admit something about that first night we met. When Marty interrupted us after sex. I told you it was all an act, that he wasn't meant to barge in so we improvised the whole thing for fun."

"Yeah, but you might not need to say more. Marty, well, he gave me his own perspective on the night at least."

Ryan tilts his head, ears suddenly at attention, leaning slightly forward.

"He did? What did he say?"

"Well, I'm paraphrasing, but what he told me was that you took his walking in on us as an affront. Like, you thought he did it on purpose or something. He claimed you might have pursued me, at least in some part, to get back at him for that."

"To get back at him?" He repeats the words as a whisper, then looks into my eyes and continues at normal volume. "So he told you then?"

"Told me what?"

"Wait. What do you think he meant by 'get back at him'?"

"Well, I mean, he was into you right? So I guess he was saying by going out with me when you might not have been interested otherwise, you were sort of shoving it in his face that you didn't want him, that you had something better."

"He said all that?"

"Not specifically, no. But that's what I got from it. He also told me rather vaguely that there had been difficulties between the two of you before, that you have a history, though he didn't go into it."

Another harsh laugh emits from the husky, though this time it appears to be directed at Marty. The bitter sound seems so wrong coming from him.

"He wasn't wrong about that." His gaze dips and he frowns.

"Fuck, Kale, I don't know what to think anymore."

I'm not following.

"Let's take this slow Ryan, I'm losing track of things. I've got all day to talk to you if you need it, so take your time."

"Yeah, okay." He scrunches his eyes shut and fiddles with his ears. "I guess the best place to start is with this: it's not just that Marty has, or had, feelings for me. We were a couple."

It takes a few seconds for the information to properly register, but the revelation doesn't exactly shock me. I had my suspicions. Finally, some newly acquired knowledge that doesn't totally shatter my mind.

"So Marty wasn't chasing after you, per se, he wanted to get back together. That's why he took your actions as a sort of attack, as though you were using me to spite him. When did you break up with him?"

"Well," he smiles wryly. "That's where this gets a little more complicated."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We hadn't broken up yet when you fucked me."

Okay, there goes the possibility of keeping my mind in one piece.

"Are you serious?"

"The argument I had with Marty after our sex, that was performance, as I said, but there were elements of truth to it. I suspected he might have come home early just to mess with me in case I had brought anyone back - things were already going pretty badly between us by then - that thought helped fuel my theatrics at least. Our relationship had been disintegrating over the last few months so when I told him it was over that night, as part of the act, I knew inside that I meant it. He may have suspected as much too. But really, to be more precise, I ended it with him on the Monday."

"Fuck me. He mentioned that you argued after the performance of your play that day, the showing me and Adrian caught, was that...?"

He nods, a pained expression distorting his features.

"Yep, that was it. That's when we officially broke up."

My mind is racing. A barrage of questions assault my thoughts all at once.

"We fucked while you were still with him?"

"Yeah, though it's not quite as bad as it sounds. The two of us weren't sexually exclusive."

A follow up question catches my attention and though it's less immediately important than some of my other thoughts I can't help but ask it.

"If you did end up with me would you still want to be open like that?"

"I, uh, I might like to, but I don't know. It really didn't work out for the two of us, so," he shrugs. "I'm open to changing my thinking."

I nod, and cast that thread of conversation aside for the moment.

"You both came out for drinks with me and Adrian straight after you broke up?"

"Fucked up right?"

"I- that's not really an answer Ryan. Why did you even invite Marty?"

"He wasn't totally wrong about me, Kale. I was being petty, I wanted to make it clear that I was done with him and show him the proof I guess. Why he agreed to it I'm not entirely certain. I want to assure you though, I was genuinely interested in you from the start, and that feeling has only grown since."

"The two of you seemed to get along well enough that night, even with the foursome and everything."

"When I invited him I hinted things might devolve into sex and I half-invited him to join if that's how things broke down. What can I say? We're messed up people I guess, and good actors, and past that even with the tension and drama between us we still care about one another. Or we did, or, well, I have a lot to think about..."

"Okay, but why didn't either of you tell me that you were a couple until now?"

"I thought knowing that, knowing the circumstances of our relationship, might have pushed you away. It was foolish, I had to tell you some time and you were inevitably going to see how completely fucked up I am for acting the way I did, so I suppose I shouldn't have hidden it after all. As for Marty I invited him along on the proviso that he wouldn't mention it. I kind of assumed he might have told you after that, since he ended up asking you out himself, but it seems he didn't. He must have his own reasons, I could guess but I don't know them for sure."

"Okay, well, what about that phone call then, before I came back to yours. Were you actually talking to Marty?"

"Well, no. I wasn't talking to anyone actually," he shrugs sheepishly. "It was some performative bullshit to pique your interest, perhaps even make you approach me. Marty wasn't involved at all, though I thought having the call imply a rocky relationship might help contextualize a meeting with him if that did happen to occur."

"So you were thinking ahead on the night? Slotting pieces into place to help make things go your way."

"I guess, yeah. The call was mostly pure, self-indulgent theatrics but there was some of that to it. I know, I'm fucking crazy, right?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you thought it."

"Honestly Ryan, I don't know what to think."

He sniffs, then stands up suddenly, grimaces, then sits down with a muttered apology.

"I'm making a fool out of myself."

"You're emotional. There's a lot going on. Lets just take this slow, like I said, okay?"

"Okay." He takes a deep breath, eyes shut, then exhales slowly. "Okay."

"I'm here to listen, Ryan, not to judge you. You have more to say - I know you didn't come here exclusively to warn me away from you - so say it." I catch myself shaking, wracked with anxiety and tension at this whole situation, yet somehow my words remain calm and logical and I feel a sense of pride in my maintained manner as I speak. Maybe I'm not such a total fuck-up after all.

"Yeah, you're right." Another slow, deep breath. He taps his forehead rhythmically, thinking. "So Marty and I, we were together for quite a while. I fell for him quickly when he was up visiting Canada. He fell for me even faster, and harder. I was sick of my life up there, I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a dead-end, life draining job, my dreams flying further from my reach with each passing day. He offered to bring me to the States, he wanted to pay for my life and let me live out my passions without fear of monetary collapse. What an incredible opportunity right? It scared the fuck out of me. We'd only been dating a few months and he was already willing to do all that for me. To him it wasn't as big a deal. For Marty Konroy the abnormal has always been normal - I guess that's part of his appeal - but even though his offer terrified me, I accepted it. Of course I did. How couldn't I?"

He trails off into quiet and hunches over, retracting into himself.

I nudge him on. "Then you got here, and at some point things started going sour between you."

"Yeah. Marty was so in love with me and for a while I loved him too, but he was always more invested in me than I was in him. He regarded me so highly, expected so much of me. I felt like there was so much pressure on me to be exactly who he thought I was. Ultimately, I think that hurt us.

"City life gave me a freedom I had never experienced. I was busier than ever, I found new interests and was bombarded with ways I could spend my time. I guess that's part of how it started. I embraced that freedom. I realized life was so much more than I ever thought. I wanted to experience more and more.

"That's when I asked if we could make our relationship sexually open. We decided to try it out as a temporary thing, I thought he was fine with it - he'd been a bit of a player in the past, I was half surprised he wasn't the one bringing it up in the first place - but it didn't go how I thought. It became clear after a while that it was affecting him negatively, and through him, our relationship." His voice thins out as he finishes his sentence, becoming quieter and softer and less present. His eyes glaze over and he becomes quickly lost in thought.

"So you realized it was harming your relationship and yet you stuck with it? You let me fuck you while you two were still together after all."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just a cunt. I'll let you be the judge of that, but there's more to the story first."

"I'm not about to call you a cu-" I shake my head dismissively. "Keep going. I'm listening."

"Just, one more thing before I continue: if you were wondering about the timeline of this, we decided to try an open relationship only, I don't know, three months ago."

"Okay, and it's all only deteriorated from there?"

"Yeah. That's about right." Suddenly he scrunches his eyes shut and sniffs. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I'm so sorry. I feel like my life is slowly spiraling out of control and has been since the day I met Marty. Maybe even before. Fuck, I don't know. At the same time as I have my doubts and problems with the guy, it feels so unfair to pin the blame on him. He's given me so much, and for the most part been good to me. I really do care for him I just... I can't..."

"Ryan, you need to stay calm. Let's go step by step. It's a lot to take in but I'm following you so far. I want to help."

He takes a deep breath, then nods quickly.

The anxiety that was pounding within me has somehow acceded to at least some extent, in spite of all the revelations and information I finally feel like I understand what is going on. A messy break up with bad blood on both sides, the consequences of which have started to affect Ryan more heavily in recent days. This is something I can understand and deal with, which helps take some of the weight off my shoulders, though I'll admit this has it's own complications.

"I'm sorry, you're right. And, thank you Kale, this means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it, just..."

"Yeah, I know. Keep talking. That's the only way I can make sense of this." He takes another deep breath, this time with his eyes closed, his features settling into a state of calm. "We started going clubbing, I was enjoying mingling and having the option to go and have fun with others, I thought Marty was enjoying it too. Hell, he bedded more people than I did. He's good looking, intelligent, confident and charismatic, it's no small wonder. It's not like I didn't get my fair share too, but he was like a fucking hookup machine.

"Anyway, things started going wrong pretty quickly. Marty's been well acquainted with drugs since his teenage years, but since he got with me he had cut them from his life for the most part, other than alcohol and the occasional joint. That is, until recently. With all the clubbing he got back into some of the harder party drugs, and after a while that leaked into his personal life. Tensions built up between us, I didn't know what the hell was going on with him.

"We started arguing. He stopped going out to clubs with me but he would still get high and go drinking, or hook up on apps like Liftr regardless. Then he had the audacity to tell me our openness was causing a rift in our relationship, that he wasn't comfortable with it, that he wanted me and only me. The hypocrisy of it was astounding. At the same time he was becoming more sullen, more withdrawn and less fun to be around and I wasn't sure what to do about it, he wasn't acting like the Marty I fell for.

"I asked him for some time. I wanted some space. It might have been a mistake, and an awful one at that, but I kept going out, kept hooking up and he did too.

"It came from him, finally, that he was only taking so many people home or going back with them as some kind of petty competition, one that I wasn't even playing. His way of coping with something he didn't like wasn't talking to me, it was showing me up. So I guess when I did that with you, shoving you in his face like that, it was my own petty comeuppance for that kind of behavior on his part. I'm not saying it should be forgiven, I was acting childishly, but I hope you can at least understand.

"As for his descent back into drugs, I don't know precisely, but I guess he withdrew back into his old self. I guess the drugs were, are, some kind of escape for him. He had doubts that our relationship wouldn't last, that I didn't love him, so he fell into a downward spiral and chose the wrong rope to try and climb back up with. If cocaine, acid and molly are a life-rope they're one made of wet paper.

"He was drifting further and further from the person I fell in love with, we grew more emotionally distant, tensions mounted between us. We argued more. He was paranoid it was all going to end. I told him the only thing pushing me away from him was him." Ryan shakes his head violently and scrunches his eyes shut, his tail curled under his chair. "Maybe that was unfair of me to say, but it was how I felt."

It's so obviously hurting him to relive these memories. I would feel more sorry for him, but all the lying, obfuscation and smokescreens he and Marty have thrown my way until now have left a sour taste on my tongue. I believe what he's told me so far, but at this point I almost expect there to be more to it. I feel like Marty would relay to me a completely different perspective with a new twist on things. The truth probably lies somewhere in between, but...

It hurts to think. Why does everybody have to be so complicated and flawed and why does everyone's life have to be a whole mess of actions and reactions and chance events layered on top of one another on and on and on and on and...

I've been so fucking blind. I really was one of those thick headed idiots who thought life was simple. I had my job, I had my friends, I had my weekends, I had sex and cigarettes and company and that was all I wanted or needed. I didn't think too hard about other people. Maybe I'm being harsh on myself, I wasn't totally naive, but I was naive nonetheless.

Life can be a fucking mess and when things start getting difficult, concepts like good, bad, right and wrong start blurring together until they're impossible to tell apart. Listening to Ryan I don't really know how to feel. I have empathy for him, and for Marty. They've both acted selfishly, but so have I, so have my best friends. As trite as it is to state this: nobody is perfect.

I'm scared that things may have blurred for me so much at this point that I have no chance of making sense out of the noise. I'm here on the pretext of supporting Ryan, helping him but something about that seems wrong. It's not like I'm even on top of my own life. This is like the blind leading the blind, but maybe that's all this world really is. A chain of blind fools ambling around, procreating, and walking off cliffs until they land wrong and snap their necks.

A sob emanating from Ryan lifts me from the depths of my reverie.

I reach out an open paw. He soon takes it and holds me, faintly. I grip his paw with more strength, careful not to hurt him. It seems to help him calm down. He sniffs and looks up.

Maybe the blind can lead the blind well enough sometimes. Maybe I should stop pretending I'm a philosopher. Maybe I need a cigarette. Maybe I just a need break.

No time for that though.

"One night after arguing he left the apartment in a huff, I didn't know what to do so I left too. We both ended up getting fucked hard and when we met back up that evening... he sort of broke down. He was saying how he needed me, that he was helpless without me. That us growing more distant is what set him off like that.

"That conversation struck me. It all felt so wrong. He shouldn't be so dependent on me, it wasn't fair on either of us. I don't know if it was intentional but it felt like he was guilt tripping me. I started wondering if I was being manipulated. I mean my mind was clouded, it still is, I could have been reading too far into it but...

"It didn't get any better. I tried to take him sincerely and see if I could fix what had been wrought in spite of my doubts. I still cared so deeply about him. I spent more time with him, and that was great, but whenever I went out he would get so clingy and make all these comments about it. We still ended up arguing. He stopped taking others to bed though, cut down on the drugs, said he was cleaning up for me and that he wanted to prove it would work out between us.

"The honest truth is that, while part of me wanted to believe him, part of me wanted out." He looks up with a tired half-smile and shakes his head slowly. "I kept going out, hooking up. He would go out drinking when he didn't want to stay in alone and he told me he was almost fully weaned off the party drugs and that he wasn't sleeping around anymore. Still, I wasn't happy. I wasn't sure why right away, but I think seeing that other side of him and having those doubts about his intentions and his dependency had tainted what we had together, at least for me. Truth is I think I was done with him for weeks before I actually ended it, I just wasn't being honest with myself at the time. It's funny the way the mind can hide your own emotions from you like that."

I can't help but agree. I've dealt with that many times over the past few days and I know I'm not done with it yet. There are so many unresolved thoughts and feelings swirling around my head it's almost inevitable.

"I think meeting you was the final straw. I liked you, and it was pretty obvious you liked me. You're hot, you were a good lay and then there was that thing with Marty. It had been a while since one of my conquests had bumped into him. He had gone drinking that night and usually he would stay out until very late, that's why I felt so confident about bringing you home. But he turned up - on purpose or not I don't know - and we had that performative argument.

"Marty wasn't completely wrong when he accused me of having ulterior motives. Part of the reason I carried on seeing you is because I could use that to break up with him, tell him I was sick of his shit and that I'd met someone better suited. I was lashing out at him - I won't lie about that - but I do care about you Kale. I really do think you're a great guy and that's only become clearer to me the more I've got to know you. I want to try this with you, but after all of this..." He lets out another harsh, self-directed laugh. "I don't think it's so likely any more." I open my muzzle to object, or comfort him, or something, but he waves my words away and says: "I know, I know, but there's still more to it.

"I should have told you all of this days ago, at the restaurant, or something. I'm so used to hiding things it has become second nature to me when really I should let the people I care about in. I know that, but bad habits and pointless fears are hard to overcome. Anyway, that's the story up until I met you, but things haven't exactly slowed down. Meeting you - dating you - ended up changing everything for me."

"I could say the same thing to you Ryan," I admit plainly. He stammers for a moment and tilts his head before recovering his composure.

"I just hope it hasn't all been for the worse."

I lean back in my chair and consider.

"It hasn't. I guess I could say it started a chain reaction of events in my personal life, and they weren't all good, but overall I think things are in a better place now. I'm trying to quit smoking for one," though the itch to buy a pack of cigarettes peaks as I mention them. "Going from following a husky's bobbing tail to quitting smoking might not seem to add up, but life has its strange ways."

He nods emphatically, in clear agreement with that sentiment.

"That it does." He loses his gaze to the humble scenery of my apartment for a while, and I do nothing to bring him back to attention. In the quiet moment I feel as little more than a viewer, out of useful words or actions. I've felt like that on-and-off for a while, discovering more about Adrian and Eve and now Ryan, all that time seeing how blind I've been. I've started feeling like the extra in somebody else's life story, but, no, that chain of thinking leads only to apathy or depression. I need to remain present, and to remember I'm just as real and relevant as anyone else, though I can't deny that the pits of self-doubt have their own attractive qualities.

Finally he speaks up. "I've been starting to doubt a lot of things about Marty."

"As I relayed earlier, I already got that impression. You've each warned me against trusting the other too easily."

"That's part of it, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's a lot of things but that is part of it. The way he's been acting recently, compared to how he was before, so many things seem to me like they don't add up. I'm not sure he's being genuine, I'm starting to suspect he's been acting this way on purpose, perhaps even in attempt to manipulate me, and you. And with that I look back even further and find even more doubts. I start to wonder whether he's had me around his finger since the day I met him.

"I know I probably sound deluded right now, paranoid even. Maybe I am, I don't know. I'm so uncertain because this is all based on a bunch of little things he has said or done. I've begun to doubt him as I've connected the dots, trying to make a clearer picture for myself, but maybe it's all in my head. Maybe I'm trying to make something out of nothing.

"That's why I needed so badly to talk to you. I wanted somebody to give me a second opinion. Like, am I losing my fucking mind, or is something really going on here?"

The anxiety I had almost rid myself of returns with force. This isn't as simple as I had thought. Of course it isn't. I really should have guessed.

"Okay," I say, biting back an exasperated sigh. "So you think he's being disingenuous. Talk me through it, I'm listening."

"Marty loved me and, more than that, he was devoted to me. Fuck, he was borderline obsessed with me. I know that sounds vain, but it's the truth, he told me as much himself. That he would drop all of that so quickly upon meeting you, and to pursue you when I was pursuing you... It makes me wonder about his intentions.

"He maintained to me, when we talked privately, that he really had fallen for you. Maybe he has, I wouldn't blame him, but his words didn't dissolve my doubts. It seems like such a one-eighty for him, I find it almost unbelievable.

"Then there's him telling you not to trust me. I'm not saying he has no reason at all to say that, given his own reasonable doubts about my intentions, but it doesn't sit right with me regardless. We've been arguing, sure, but even now we've remained close. We still enjoy each others company for the most part, and for him to be so disparaging of me to the guy I'm dating is... I didn't think he'd do something like that. I know, I'm a hypocrite, I said the same about him, but still. I didn't think that was in his character.

"As I said, this is all based on small hints. None of these things on their own would be enough to prove anything, but together? Maybe. Look, I'll just keep throwing these things out there. Maybe you'll see my point. Maybe I'll just look crazy.

"So, there was the other night, when I walked in on you two fucking. It was awfully convenient timing considering I told him when I would be getting home. He told me you would be gone by then but instead you were full of cock.

"Of course there was the first night we met too, like I already said, he came home earlier than usual, perhaps in attempt to interrupt me. Plus, when we started our little performance he was being quite pushy about me opening the door and talking to him, maybe that was just where his ad lib took him, but it felt a little forced to me, like he was really trying to fuck with me.

"And then there's our personal conversations. Our private time since I met you has had its tensions, but overall we've been decent to one another. We've shared the bed but haven't fucked for a little while. We talk, we get along for the most part, but there's a definite distance between us now. We argue sometimes, mostly about you. He doesn't even talk about his feelings for me anymore, as though they vanished overnight.

"I aired my doubts over his desire to date you. He threw the same argument back at me. We explain ourselves and end up sounding very similar, but still... More recently he's made a few comments that stuck out to me. We were talking about you again, though more cordially this time, sort of going through the qualities we liked about you. Then he started saying some things in a way that, well, I'll just relay them.

"He was saying how you aren't so artistically inclined as the two of us. He was saying how he thought he needed to be with someone passionate about acting, but that he's realized somebody like you, with pretty much no relation to the world of theater, might be even better for him. Then he gave me this sort of look and said something about how he knows that might not suit me. I said it's not a problem and he just nodded.

"It's all these little things. Like he would mention how you're a top and that he felt lucky to get the chance to top you even once, that he wasn't sure you'd want to do it again. Bragging, or trying to imply that just because I'm a switch, dating a top would be some kind of problem for me.

"He would mention how fun it was sharing weed and trying coke with you, knowing those are things I'm rarely if ever interested in doing. Making me feel ostracized in some small way.

"He mentioned too how if you decide to try it with him he hopes it isn't just for his money and connections. He framed it like he's worried, but it left me wondering whether he was really just flexing about how much he has to offer and how little I do in comparison.

"Then yesterday he makes a comment about how you've lost your job, that he hopes you'll get along okay, that he'll try and hook you up with something if you have trouble finding somewhere new. I'm sorry to hear about the job loss by the way. He made the comments on separate days, but of course I'm going to link them up and, oh look, it seems like I'm even more of a burden now. A part time worker and somebody between jobs, a great combination right?

"He even said some things about your friend Adrian. Like, and I don't know the truth of any of this, but he said that Adrian has a crush on you too, that there's a lot of competition for you. That all these guys vying for your attention might be too much pressure for you right now. It's all these off-hand remarks that seem like nothing on their own but when I think about them all together it leaves me wondering whether he's been trying to push me away from you deliberately.

"That hit home with me when I was genuinely wondering whether I should be pursuing you or not just a couple of days ago, and a lot of the things he had brought up were on my mind as part of that self-doubt.

"I know it might just look like regular competitive bitchiness, and, well, maybe, but I never thought it was in his character to be so deceitful and hide his intentions and then intentionally take actions to upset me like this, if my fears are right.

"That isn't the Marty I knew. Either I'm seeing him more clearly now, or he's a thoroughly changed man. It's more than just those anecdotes too. It's in the way he talks to me, the way he is with you. I don't know how to explain it other than to say: it isn't Marty. I know Marty more than I know anyone. Whatever the otter is now, it's convincing, but I don't think it's the real him. It's like something snapped within him, or like he's putting on a character in his day-to-day life and it's been making me feel more and more uncomfortable with every passing minute I spend around him.

"I know it's not solid proof, it's just words from an upset ex, but this is what I think I see and I feel like I have to tell you. The more I think about it, the more I convince myself. I really think he's using us."

He seems to run out of words. He stares into his empty mug, blank faced. I offer a supportive smile but he can't manage to assemble one in return. Instead I offer him another drink which he accepts.

The apartment descends into contemplative quiet as I make us both a coffee, but my mind is too busy trying to sort through what I've heard to really make much of any of it. I pass him his drink and he thanks me. I place a paw on his shoulder and squeeze softly before taking my seat and he manages at least to half-assemble a smile in return.

I ponder some more and find the question that feels most pressing to me in the moment: "so, if your worst fears are true, what is his goal? Why is he bothering to manipulate you in the first place?"

He shrugs and sighs.

"I couldn't say precisely, it's all only so much conjecture. Maybe he wants to hurt me as I hurt him. Maybe he really wants to be with you and is doing what he can to push us apart. Maybe he wants to be with me and his first step towards that is making you unavailable whether that be by having you to himself or pushing you away from the both of us. Maybe it really is all in my head. I don't know."

I take a few deep, slow breaths, steadying myself once again.

"Well, it's not much, but I can confirm at least that I don't think you're a total and complete nutcase."

He laughs, for once the sound contains a real sense of humor.

"That's good at least."

My brain is buzzing with static, an infinity of judgments and thoughts swirling around, doing battle for my attention. I do my best to stay rational and think logically. I know there is more to consider than I've had time for, but I have to make do with where I'm at now.

"I can see where your fears come from, but you're right that it's all very circumstantial. I mean, I wouldn't immediately rule out your theories but I wouldn't say you've entirely convinced me of them either. The truth is Marty has always seemed genuine around me."

He nods in agreement.

"And he might be. But at the same time, he's a wonderful actor."

"And so are you."

He goes still at that.

"Yeah."

"I'm not accusing you of anything Ryan, but in the same vein I don't want to accuse Marty. And you've both been through a lot of interpersonal drama. Maybe all these fears have simply sprouted from there."

He frowns.

"Maybe."

I look into his eyes, they appear almost lifeless. His manner seems almost a perfect opposite to the Ryan I first met. The one who was so exuberant and confident and characterful. Things really are weighing on him, I'm sure of that, I'm just not sure of much else.

Part of me wonders whether I'm just some puzzle piece in their squabbles. A helpless pawn there only to prove a point between the two of them, or even some treasure to be fought over. Do they really even care about me, or is this all - and has it always been - about them?

I want to give into the sense of worthlessness that thought stirs within me so badly, but I fight it. I think about Eve, I think about Adrian. I have to fight it.

My phone rings out, violently piercing the silence.

I pull it from my pocket and see that Adrian's calling. Even in the middle of this conversation with Ryan I can't imagine ignoring the call. Last time I did that Adrian almost killed himself.

"It's Adrian," I inform Ryan. "I'll try and make this quick."

He nods and signals for me to go ahead.

I stand up and answer the call as I wander through to the next room, desiring some degree of privacy but not wanting to move too far away from Ryan either.

"Hey Kalie," he greets me, his tone positive, if a little meek.

"Hi Adrian. Ryan's still here."

"Ah, I was about to ask. Sorry. I can call back later it's nothing too im-"

"No, well, yeah. We can talk more later but, are you holding up okay?"

"Yeah I'm doing alright. I got rid of those, uh, bloodstained things. Plus I put a little rug over the more stubborn stains on the bedroom carpet."

"Good. Good."

"Yeah I'm feeling like a real adult right now."

"That's a first, surely."

He laughs and the warmth of the sound travels through the phone and through me, leaving me feeling a little better all on its own.

"Definitely."

"Think you'll get to sleep in there okay?"

There's a pause.

"I hope so."

"Call me if you can't Adrian. Even if it's an ungodly hour. You're welcome here."

Another pause.

"Thank you, and I'll keep it in mind. Still, I need to move on, in more ways than one, and staying over there doesn't help."

My turn to pause. My throat feels dry. I swallow.

"I understand."

"Thanks."

I pause again.

"Was there anything else you wanted to bring up?"

"Just one thing, but my main reason for calling was for that quick update so that's already covered. No need to call me later. The only other thing is that I've thought a bit more about it, but I'd rather turn down that meetup with Marty tomorrow, if that's okay."

"I, uh," My throat feels even drier than before somehow. He's trying to distance himself from me, at least to some extent. That's what's happening here. He wants to get over me and this is the first step of his solution. I get it. It fucking hurts, but I get it. "Of course, it's up to you."

"Thanks Kale. Well, make sure to give me a call and tell me all about it tomorrow anyway. I won't keep you any longer though, go have a good time with Ryan."

My brain finally catches up with the conversation.

"Actually, uh, about tomorrow with Marty."

"Yeah?"

"I've found out there's bad blood between him and Ryan. Ryan thinks Marty may be acting with bad intentions toward him and perhaps even toward me too. I'll fill you in on everything later but I would really appreciate you coming with me. I know it's selfish of me to ask, but you being there might make it easier for me to make sense out of all this. I need to see if Ryan is over-blowing things or if Marty's really trying to play us."

He makes a humming sound and thinks for a few seconds. I sense an ounce of resistance in the sound, but no matter what else goes on between us I know he'll always be there for me when I need him.

"You really do attract drama don't you Kalie?"

"I'm a fucking magnet for the stuff, apparently."

I'm rewarded with another laugh, and when he speaks again his voice is soft and airy.

"Okay hon I'll be there, you know how to appeal to my interests. How could I possibly avoid such gripping drama? Just make sure to give me the lowdown on the Ryan and Marty gossip before I get there. Isuppose I'm technically well enough for work again at this point but I'm sure I can wiggle my way out of another day."

I thank him, tell him I need to work out the time with Marty, that I'll call him again later and then our the call is over all too soon. I make my way back to Ryan, feeling a little guilty about leaving the husky hanging for several minutes like that.

"Sorry about that," I say, sitting opposite him once again.

"Don't apologize Kale, you have your own life outside of my drama. Plus it reminded me of another thing."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Your phone."

"What about my phone?"

"When you ended up leaving it at our place, do you remember where you left it?"

I think back, trying to visualize the moment.

"I turned it off when I was getting called and I, I handed it to Marty."

"Where did he put it?"

"He put it on the bedside table, why?"

"On top, or in the drawer?"

"On top."

"The bedside table is kept pretty clear, how did you miss it on your way out?"

"I, uh, I don't know. I was a bit high, and rushing."

He nods.

"Yeah, that's probably it. Though, I did find it tucked away in the drawer that evening."

I hesitate and tilt my head.

"Well, he mentioned that he kept it in the drawer after he found it."

He shrugs.

"Okay, makes sense. It was just a stray thought."

"If it was on purpose, why would he even bother doing something like that?"

"Honestly I'm not sure. Maybe just so you would come back around to pick it up, I don't know. Did your lack of phone for a couple days end up having any real impact on you?"

My tail curls up beneath me and a chill runs down my spine.

"Yes. It did."

He leans in a little, then pulls back.

"Anyway, it looks like it wasn't on purpose regardless." His voice sort of trails off and I realize how tense this conversation had left me. I do my best to relax into the chair.

"Yeah."

He leaves a few seconds space as he drains the last of his drink.

"I wanted to ask you something." For the first time in a while he holds steady eye contact with me.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I think it would help me to know. Has Marty made any other disparaging comments about me, other than that you shouldn't trust me? Or, for that matter, has he said anything else you thought was odd or that might help confirm or deny my fears?"

I close my eyes and think back, pouring over all of my interactions with the otter since the night I first heard his voice through the bedroom door. Parts are blurred, I know I'm not remembering everything, but...

" Yeah, I suppose, there have been a few things. I don't know if I remember them all but I'll tell you what I can." I wrap my tail around me and stroke it with both paws, grounding myself. "After you walked in on us fucking he told me you had a vindictive streak." His eye contact breaks away at that and his face contorts into a dark, unreadable expression. "And actually, earlier that day he did make some slightly pushy, negative comments about Adrian."

"Did you think they were warranted?"

"I mean, I can see how he might have come to those opinions, but it seems somewhat mean-spirited to air them like that in retrospect."

"This might sound like a stretch, but for the sake of argument can we hypothesize for a moment that Marty really is doing all of this on purpose to provoke us in some way?"

"Sure."

"Then him making understandable, justifiable, and yet provocative comments, as he has done to the both of us, would be the safest way for him to provoke us without ruining his facade."

"You're right, it's a stretch for sure, but given the assumption that he is messing with us I suppose there's some logic to that."

His tail sways behind him rhythmically and he taps the side of his muzzle as he thinks.

"Bear with me a bit longer. Driving a wedge between you and Adrian, since Adrian's been after you too, aligns with his potential goals. And why would he bring it up otherwise? It seems uncalled for to me to call out your friends when we've only known you for such a short time."

"But me and Adrian, that's- It's not happening. I told Marty as much at the time. So what's the point?"

"To drive the wedge even deeper, make sure it never happens. Or perhaps even to cause a rift between the two of you that could negatively affect you on a personal level. It could make you more distant to the point you'd seem unappealing to me, or perhaps even make you lose interest in both of us if you feel like you have to focus on your personal life. I admit it's a lot of conjecture, but it's just one of many possibilities."

Another chill runs through me.

"It's an awful lot of conjecture. And the way you present it, he's got such a vague plan and methodology it's almost impossible to pin down whether he's actually doing anything purposefully manipulative at all. Does he want me, or to hurt you, or to win you back? How can we know?"

"You're right, there's no way to pin anything down right now and that's exactly what would make this such a perfect way for him to act if my worst fears are true. You can't possibly call him out on it, because if you do," he points a finger at himself theatrically. "You look crazy."

This is getting ridiculous. What kind of vipers' nest have I walked into here. The more I hear out of Ryan, the more I doubt everything about both him and the otter. I'm getting sick of all of this and I would rush him out of the house and do my best to never talk to either of them again if only...

If only that weren't exactly what Marty would want if what Ryan theorizes is actually true. I feel like my brain is melting. Am I really considering this paranoid conspiracy theory?

One more of Marty's comments comes back to me.

"I talked to Marty over the phone a couple days ago actually, he asked me how it seemed to me you were holding up when you gave me my mobile back. I told him you seemed troubled and he warned me that you could be paranoid as all hell sometimes."

"He said that? He called me paranoid?"

I hold my paws up.

"As much as I can see a thread of logic among these theories, you're kind of playing into that description, right?"

His expression darkens even further, he shakes his head slowly then stops. He looks straight at me, his muzzle morphs into a wild smile and he laughs uproariously.

"Um, what did I miss?" I ask, clutching my tail tightly, feeling a little disturbed by the husky's odd show of emotion.

"He's a smart bastard isn't he?"

"What do you mean?"

"Imagine this: I have never shown signs of acting with any degree of paranoia around Marty and he has no reason whatsoever to describe me in that way to another person. Assuming that is true, how the hell am I supposed to respond to that allegation? Think about it."

I do my best to follow that order.

"I guess you can't really, not profitably. From my perspective you could easily be making that anecdote up and denying any paranoia after airing all of your fears like you have today only looks worse for you. So you're kind of caught out. Even saying what you just said right now, and having me think about it like this makes you seem kind of paranoid."

He laughs again, though this time the sound is different again. It's sad and lifeless.

"At least it helps me to know he said that." He searches the ceiling for answers. "I think that's enough to convince me. I really think he's manipulating us. He heard about my emotional state when he last talked to you, realized then that I was having my doubts about him and pre-empted them with that paranoia comment. And of course there's no fucking way you're going to take me at my word. Frankly, you shouldn't. Kale, I know I might sound out of my mind, but I am telling you right now I don't trust Marty a damn bit anymore. In fact I'm starting to genuinely worry about his intentions. If he's really been orchestrating a web of manipulation like this that is totally fucking sociopathic behavior." He's breathing faster now, almost to the level of panicked hyperventilation. He seems to realize it too as he catches himself and forces his breathing to slow until he's reached a state of relative calm. "Yet, at the same time, I recognize I might be taking all of this way too far. I might be lost in doubt, seeing ghosts and finding traitors where there are only friends. The truth is I need your help."

Why are all the people I get close to so fucked up?

It's an awful thing to think, but I've thought it now.

I look at Ryan and take in the sight of him. The husky is tense and emotionally drained, tired and scared. His expression and posture make him look like a sad, meager, inconsequential wreck of a person. Where is that suave, sexy, confident and completely alluring man I met not two full weeks ago?

Trying to cover every angle, I suppose the very opposite of what he's told me could be true. He could be every bit the manipulator he claims Marty is, acting brilliantly to throw me off the scent.

He could simply be completely deluded.

Or, I could take a chance and trust the signs that he is in real emotional distress, scared and confused and looking for a lifeline.

A couple weeks ago I might genuinely have pushed him away, rid him from my life and left him to be somebody else's problem. Now though, that's unthinkable. Even if he's truly losing his mind, or bullshitting me completely, I will not and cannot refuse his request. Even if there's only a tiny chance that he genuinely needs me, that his theories are true, then I will be there for him regardless. It's the right thing to do.

"Then I'll help you. I have a lot of doubts about all of this Ryan, but I'm not going to abandon you when you're in need. I'm going to take you at your word and trust in you, so don't make me regret this."

"Thank you so fucking much, and I promise I won't. I promise. I either need saving from this self-made delusion or saving from Marty. Either way I need your help." He wipes a paw across his eyes, alleviating and building dampness. "When are you seeing him next?"

"Tomorrow," I confirm.

We discuss what he wants me to do, and how he thinks I can help him, what he thinks I should look out for or what I could say if nothing comes up naturally. It's far from an air-tight plan but it's something. If I can't get to the bottom of this tomorrow we'll talk again and decide on the next move, but until then I know what I have to do.

I agree to everything, though not without confirming I have my doubts about his own veracity, which he fully accepts. Then we're done talking. He hesitantly excuses himself, thanking me and saying he's used up too much of my time already. I ask him if it will be weird sleeping in the same bed as somebody he doesn't trust and he says he'll be fine. He'll sleep on the sofa if it comes to that. Soon enough he's gone and I'm left wondering what the fuck any of that was.

I sit back in the same chair I'd been in for the majority of his visit and relive it all.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

One other memory of Marty sticks out to me.

He told me that he thinks he loves me. He hasn't known me long, at the time he didn't even know me all that well, and he dropped that on me like it was nothing.

Weird behavior right? Especially if what Ryan said was true about him being so utterly in love with the husky just a matter of days prior.

Maybe I should have mentioned it to Ryan but it would only have fueled his fears.

It's not a matter of which one I want to date anymore, it's more a matter of which one is mentally stable, if either.

I think forward to the meeting with Marty and I'm immediately filled with a sense of dread. I reach for my phone and text him.

Me and Adrian are both up for tomorrow, some nice chill time chatting at yours, we don't need to do anything special. We're free all day so whenever is good for you.

Text sent, I think again over everything Ryan told me, from beginning to end.

In my empty apartment, all alone, I ask myself a simple question:

"What the fuck?"