Reunion

Part I: Byron

"Look at it. Hasn't changed a bit," Byron Chandler said as he crossed the threshold into Von Hohenheim's assembly hall for the first time in ten years.

"I know. Ghastly, isn't it?" Charlie Miller laughed. "Still being leered at by portraits of 250-year-old dead guys. But this time it's different—this time, there's bunting."

Twelve sets of painted eyes bored down on the pair as they loitered by the table, searching for their name badges.

"Barry. Bart. Baxter. Bella. Ben. Ben. Ben. Ben. Briney. Bryan. Ah, there we go—Byron. You find yours?"

"Getting there. But do you remember how many Charlies we had in our year?"

"Six."

"Seven."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"No." He began counting them off on his fingers. "Fry, Hunter, Monsoon, Rodrigo, Wiggins... and you. That's six."

"You forgot Henderson."

"Oh shit, yeah. Henderson. You're right, that is seven."

"Told you."

"Hmm. So what time are the others getting here?"

"Well, Alan and his husband will be here at seven, and Ste is picking Vic up from the train station. They'll be here around quarter past, depending on traffic."

"This is so exciting. I can't wait to see everyone."

"Everyone? Or Vic?"

"Everyone, dick. But Vic in particular. It has been far too long."

*********

For Byron, mingling was quite possibly the hardest form of social interaction—save perhaps maintaining eye contact or following a conversation without veering into non-sequiturs and tangents. All were being tested tonight as he listened to the brusque boasts of Harry Duncan, former captain of the rugby team and now a semi-professional player for the Glasgow Swans. He'd been cornered at the refreshment table and didn't quite know how to tell his childhood bully—the one who'd made his life hell for six years, who'd mocked his love of D&D and sneered at his crush on Vic—that he couldn't care less about the emissions reading on Harry's brand-new Lexus.

He nodded politely as Harry launched into a story about his gym regimen, mentally counting the ceiling tiles and wondering how many it would take to concuss himself into an early exit. Not that Harry had noticed, he wasn't listening—he was too busy talking to himself.

"Sorry to interrupt, Harry. Could I possibly borrow Byron?"

"Oh, yeah, sure thing, Charles."

"Charlie," Charlie corrected him. He hated being called Charles. If he'd wanted to be called Charles, he would have asked for it to be put on his name tag.

"Of course. Nice seeing you again, Chandler."

"Yeah, you too."

"You looked like a man who needed rescuing—and a drink."

"That's why I was over here to begin with."

Charlie handed him a glass flute.

"Well, mission accomplished. Now drink before he comes back and starts explaining the carbon footprint of his protein powder."

*********

"All right, lads?"

"ALAN!"

Byron and Charlie excitedly embraced the lean, bespectacled man who approached them, beaming.

"Now, now, quite enough of that. You'll crease the suit," Alan joked, pushing them away. "You remember Dominic, yes?"

Alan gestured to the man beside him—slightly older, in his mid-thirties, with curly blond hair and a kilt.

"Evening."

"Hi. How've you been?"

"Amazing, thank you. Yourselves?"

"Aye, all right. Just... mingling." Byron shuddered. He hadn't meant to—even the word was enough to give him the creeps.

"Ah, yeah. School reunion foreplay."

"Never heard it described as that."

"Makes it sound better?"

"Actually worse."

"Whoops. Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"I'll just get us some drinks. Darling, white or red?"

"Think it's just prosecco. Or it could be washer fluid—hard to tell."

"Oh. Lovely. Well, perhaps we'll break open a bottle of the good stuff back at ours, over pizza. You are still coming, aren't you?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Marvellous."

*********

Byron glanced at his watch. 7:30. Still no word from Ste or Vic. They had to be here soon—the station wasn't far. If they weren't coming, they would have called. Or texted. Wouldn't they?

"You're worrying again," Charlie said, resting his head on Byron's shoulder.

"Should I not be?"

"No."

"It's been ten years, Charlie. What if Vic doesn't like me? We've only recently got back in touch."

"It's Vic," he said gently. "You'll get on great. You always did."

*********

It had just turned eight, and Byron had almost given up hope.

Still no word from either of them.

And they'd missed the speeches—lucky for them.

The headmaster, deputy, and form tutors had taken to the stage in full academic regalia—gowns, fur, the works—like a cloud of upper-class bats.

They'd welcomed the returning alumni with forced laughter, reminding them not to forget the school if they ever fancied becoming chairs of the education board. Or, more importantly, not to forget it when it came time to send their prospective children.

*********

And then, as the clock struck quarter past eight, Charlie's voice cut through Alan's excited catch-up with Melissa Inchkieth, his ex-girlfriend.

"At last. You two took your bloody time. Byron here was about to have an aneurysm."

"Sorry, traffic was murder. And somebody asked us to stop at the petrol station because he left his vape at home."

Ste Barnes grinned as he swooped over to join them, towering over the group and hugging each in turn.

Byron's heart pounded with excitement—then suddenly froze. Vic was nowhere to be seen.

Standing just behind Ste was a tall, fair-haired man dressed in black leather and chains. His nails were painted black, and a padlock hung from his neck.

"Hi, Byron," the man said quietly.

"Err... hi?" Byron couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. "Ste, can I have a word?"

"I mean, sure, I guess."

*********

Byron pulled Ste aside.

"Where's Vic?"

"What do you mean?" Ste furrowed his brow.

"I mean, where's Vic? She said she was coming. You said you were bringing her. So where is she?"

"She?" Ste began, then stopped, looking completely surprised. "Byron..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude to your boyfriend either, but I was just really excited to see her."

"Boyfriend? Byron... Vic..."

"Forget it, Ste. It's fine. Come on, I'll get you a drink."

"Byron, wait. That is ... Vic ...", but Byron was already walking away. "Shit."

*********

"Byron?"

Byron looked up from his custard cream. The man from before stood nearby, watching him. There was an odd, inscrutable look on his face.

"Huh? Oh, hey. You're Ste's boyfriend, right?" Byron said.

"I..."

"Sorry... about not speaking to you earlier. Must've come across like a total dick. I just... I just thought Ste was bringing someone else, and it took me by surprise."

"Right. You never did like surprises," the man mumbled.

"What?... We’ve me... Wait—were you in our year too?"

"Um... yes. Yes, I was."

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry! I didn't recognise you."

"Clearly." He chuckled, stepping a little closer. "Do you recognise me now?"

"Erm... no, sorry. I don't."

"Oh."

"I'm really sorry."

The man looked away, biting the inside of his cheek.

"It’s ... fine. You seem pretty distracted. Should I just... leave you to it?"

"No, no, it's fine. It's just—I'm kind of waiting for someone. But she hasn't messaged."

The man shifted uncomfortably, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I see."

"Which is fine. She doesn't owe me anything. It's just... I was really hoping to see her again. We haven't spoken since graduation."

Byron gave a small, helpless laugh.

"She dropped off the grid. But... we got back in touch recently—thanks to Ste and the gang."

He shook his head sheepishly.

"Sorry. You don't need to hear all this. I'm rambling."

"No. It's... It's fine."

Byron nodded, awkward in the silence.

"Which form were you in?"

"Er — Daniels. 7KYD."

Byron blinked.

"No way! Same as mine. Ha!" A pause, longer now. "Tell me—did you ever speak to Vic Landon? From 7UNO."

"Vic? ... What...?"

"Oh— Guess that's a no, then."

"Byron..."

"Sorry. I'm being really awkward, aren't I?"

"... Byron..."

"Oi! You two!" Charlie shouted from across the room. "We're heading back to Alan's now, if you're ready? And Landon—Ste says if you forget your vape this time, he ain't letting you get another!"

Byron turned, confused.

"You two? ... ... Landon?"

"BYRON."

He stared at the man, eyes widening.

"VIC?"

*********

"So, how long into the conversation did you realise it was Vic? Or did you not?" Charlie asked, munching through the family-size bag of Revels that Alan always kept in the glove compartment.

"I... I didn't... How did I not see him? I thought I was waiting for ... for ... him. But he was right there, and I—"

"Shit."

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

"No. No, you're not."

"Why didn't you tell me? Any of you could have told me."

"We all thought you already knew. You'd been calling him Vic in the chat for months. And the way you spoke to one another, geeked out with one another, it was just like old times," Alan chimed in.

"He looked so hurt... I'm such a fucking terrible person. I don't even want to go to this thing tonight."

"Oi. You're not pulling out now. Not while you have this thing with Vic to sort out... Listen, if you want to make things right, talk to him. It's clear there was a simple miscommunication. That’s all it was."

"he could have told me. instead of letting me ramble on like an idiot."

"Byron Jeremiah Chandler. That's not fair, and you know it. He had no idea you didn’t know. And he was mortified. He even tried to tell you himself after you pulled Ste aside."

"Yeah. Vic was scared, Byron. You could've seen it. You just didn't look."

"... scared? Fuck."

"So when we get back to ours, you will talk to Vic and sort this out, and we will order pizza. Got it? We are not letting this become some huge thing. Now, what are you doing when we get back to ours?"

"Speaking to Vic."

"Good. That was witnessed."

"What ... what do I say to him?"

"What do you mean, 'what do you say to him’? You talk to him like he's Vic. Like you do every day in the group chat."

"Or how you chat to him in DMs."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because... I... don't think he wants me, um, flirting with him at a time like this."

"Oh... ... ... yeah, save that for after any reconciliation."

========================

Part II: Vic

"You're late."

Ste Barnes grinned from ear to ear as he pulled Vic into the tightest hug.

"Clearly, nothing has changed that much. You're still tardy as always."

"A wizard is never late, Mr Barnes. Nor is he ever early. He arrives precisely when he means to. However, in this case, British Rail has its part to play in that."

"That doesn't work. You were never a wizard. You were always a paladin."

"Hey, I am wizard as fuck. I made my tits disappear two years ago. Best trick of my life."

"I stand corrected, Gandalf. Now come on. Our chariot awaits."

*****

"Okay, so looking at you, I feel massively underdressed for tonight."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Well, look at you. Then look at me."

Vic gestured to his leather jacket, black skinny jeans, chains, and shirt that was three-quarters done up.

"Hardly the picture of Von Hohenheim."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I feel like a prick dressed like some pompous Womble. You look comfortable and like you can breathe. So already you're on top. Besides, you look good in leather. Hah! No homo."

Vic smirked.

"Oh yeah, totally bro. No homo."

... ... ...

They both roared with glee.

"God. Almost threw up in my mouth saying that."

"Don't know how you said it with a straight face."

"Nothing straight about this face."

Ste's smile was electric.

"That's what made it more impressive. But hey, you never did answer my question."

"Yes, you're underdressed. But no, you don't need to change. You look perfect."

"But..."

"If you're going to ask me to borrow some clothes, the only leather I have is assless chaps from my days at the Meatmarket, and then you would be seriously underdressed, my young wee otter."

"Am I not a twink?"

"No, mate."

"Hmm."

*****

"So, what's Dominic like?"

"Dominic? Aye, he's nice. You'd like him. He's a feisty guy from your neck of the woods. Edinburgh."

"I'm from Glasgow."

"Same difference."

"Geographically, maybe. But we're light-years ahead.”

“HA!”

“So, what's he do?"

"He's in HR for an IT firm."

"Oh, nice. Did you go to the wedding?"

"No. It was during the pandemic. They did it over Zoom. They were in the same bubble."

Ste caught the question before it left Vic's mouth.

"Got it. Well, it'll be nice meeting him."

*****

"So, I've got to ask... You and Byron have been getting pretty ... close ... again."

"I don't hear a question. I hear a statement and an implication."

"My implication is the question. Spill it, Landon."

"Well, if you must know, it has actually been lovely. Really lovely. And — not going to lie, I was terrified at first... ... ... but it was like I'd never left."

"That's what we like to hear."

"You know, he sent me some really adorable flirty messages, too."

"I know. We read them. We all read them."

"Privately."

"Hmm."

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't need to. Shut up."

"Ha. See, I told you you were worrying for nothing."

"I know."

Vic smiled.

"I'm sensing something else."

"I think I like him. I mean, I always liked him. But I ... like him ... a lot."

"Aww. Wee Landon's in love."

"Shut up."

Vic chuckled, blushing.

"Called it back in fifth year."

"Yeah, well, fifth year was a long time ago."

"Oh, tell me about it. Gone are the days when I'm snorting Rainbow Dust for 50p and a Freddo."

"Oh, God, I remember that D of E trip."

"Good times."

"Hmm."

Ste's tone became more serious. "I know."

*****

"Shit! I forgot my vape."

"Oh, no. How dreadful. However, will you survive?"

"Come on, Ste. Please let me get one from the petrol station."

"No. We’re already late as it is with this traffic."

"Please, I don't want to have to face Von Hohenheim without something to take the edge off."

"Chew gum."

"I don’t have any. — Please? Please? Please? Please?"

"God, fine! You're worse than my cousin. And he's six."

"Six-year-olds shouldn't be vaping."

"Ha. Smart arse."

*****

"Wow. This place is worse than I remember."

Vic bit his lip.

"And I didn't think that was possible."

"You never know, inside could be perfectly charming."

"£20 says they haven't updated the biscuit selection since parents' evening?"

"No way. That's the easiest £20 you'll ever win."

"Listen... can you go in first?"

"You want me to?"

"Yes. Please."

"Then, of course. You can bask in my perfection. And you can check out my arse."

"That's clearly what's going on here. You got me."

*****

Ste led the way through the crowded room. There were around eighty people, all chatting, laughing, and drinking in the stuffy, airless hall. As he had suspected, Vic was the only one wearing leather, and the raised eyebrows from the former headmaster said it all.

"At last. You two took your bloody time. Byron here was about to have an aneurysm."

Charlie Miller loudly called out to them, beaming and beckoning them over. He was leaning casually on a pillar, reassuring the pale and nervous Byron, dressed in his three-piece suit. Vic recognised the suit immediately. It was what he had worn to their end-of-school dance.

"Sorry, traffic was murder. And somebody asked us to stop at the petrol station because he left his vape at home."

With great gusto, Ste hugged each friend in turn.

"Hi, Byron."

Vic smiled nervously. His voice was quiet.

"Err... hi?"

Byron wasn't looking at him. It was as if he was looking past him. What was more, his voice sounded off. There was something there that he couldn't quite place.

"Ste, can I have a word?"

"I mean, sure, I guess..." Ste began, but before he could finish, Byron pulled him aside.

"Okay..."

Charlie's eyes followed them for a moment and then returned to Vic.

"That was weird."

"Oh, thank God. I thought that was just me."

"No. It's probably just nerves. How've you been, mate?! Look at you! You look incredible!"

"Oh, thank you."

"You do hugs, yes?"

"Of course I do."

"Amazing. Bring it in then."

Charlie crushed Vic in his embrace.

"Is that Victor Landon? As I live and breathe."

"Alan Weeks! It's so good to see you!"

"You too! This is Dominic, by the way."

"Hi there."

"Alright. Nice to meet you, Alan has told me all about you."

"Not everything I hope. There are some things I never want people to know."

"The carrots in the glasses case?" Alan asked cheekily.

"Oh my God. Please don't tell me you shared that story?!"

Vic cringed.

"Black mould gate? Yep."

"Oh my God! In my defence, I was 11, and it was a complete accident! Alan!"

*****

"Erm, Vic... We have a problem."

Ste returned, looking flustered.

"What is it? Do you owe me £20?"

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I don't know how this happened. Genuinely, I don't."

"What is it?"

"... ... ... Byron... doesn't know."

Vic opened his mouth. But no words came out. Instinctively, he reached for his padlock, his chest heaving.

"Wait. What?!"

Charlie hissed. The realisation hit him.

"Oh... Shit."

"Fuck."

Alan just stared at his shoes.

"Okay, perhaps tone it down with the profanity. Fuck."

Ste turned to Vic.

"Mate, listen, let's go outside for a moment, yeah? Maybe take a drag on your vape. We're going to get to the bottom of this. Okay?”

“... ... ... okay. shit.”

*****

"Okay, so, hands up, who told Byron?"

The four friends stood in a small cluster beneath the poorly constructed marquee of the smoking area. Vic was a few meters away, furiously puffing out a cloud of cherry and vanilla cola.

No hands went up.

"I thought he already knew."

"Same."

"Yep."

"I thought it was fairly clear from the beginning when we added Vic to the group chat."

"Vic, mate, did you tell him?"

Vic looked up from his vape and shook his head. His eyes were dark and wet.

"I'm sorry."

"No. No. I'm sorry. I told you that I would handle it. And then didn't because Byron just started using the name Vic so casually. I didn't even consider the possibility of this happening. But I guess Victor isn't such a stretch from..."

Ste mouthed the last word.

"I mean, duh. The only person I've heard call you Victor is this one, earlier tonight."

Charlie pointed to Alan.

"Right, so this evening has gotten a lot more complicated than we thought it would."

"Biggest understatement there, pal," Ste muttered.

"Okay, so, do we talk to him?"

"We're going to have to. He thinks Vic's my boyfriend."

"What!?"

"Yeah."

"How did he leap to that conclusion? From that interaction?"

"I ... don't know."

"Well, it's a leap."

"I'll talk to him."

Vic's voice was set.

"Are... are you sure, Vic? You really don't have to."

"I do, though. Ste knows why. And it has to be me who does this... Fuck."

*****

It wasn't hard to spot Byron. He was on his own in the corner of the room, focused on a custard cream. With a deep breath, Vic approached.

"Byron?"

Byron looked up from his biscuit.

"Huh? Oh, hey. You're Ste's boyfriend, right?" Byron asked.

"I..."

Vic began, but before he could say another word, Byron continued.

"Sorry about not speaking to you earlier. Must've come across like a total dick. I just thought Ste was bringing someone else, and it took me by surprise."

"Right. You never did like surprises," Vic mumbled.

"What?... We’ve me... Wait—were you in our year too?"

"Um... yes. Yes, I was."

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry! I didn't recognise you."

"Clearly."

Vic chuckled hopefully, stepping a little closer.

"Do you recognise me now?"

"Erm... no, sorry. I don't."

"Oh..."

"I'm really sorry."

Vic turned away, biting the inside of his cheek. He winced, tasting blood on his tongue.

"It’s ... fine. You seem pretty distracted. Should I just... leave you to it?"

"No, no, it's fine. It's just—I'm kind of waiting for someone. But she hasn't messaged."

Vic shifted uncomfortably, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. His fingers found his fidget spinner, running the tips along the rounded edges.

"I see."

"Which is fine. She doesn't owe me anything. It's just... I was really hoping to see her again. We haven't spoken since graduation."

Byron gave a small laugh.

"She dropped off the grid. But... we got back in touch recently—thanks to Ste and the gang."

He shook his head sheepishly.

"Sorry. You don't need to hear all that. I'm rambling."

"No. It's... It's fine."

Byron nodded, awkward in the silence.

"Which form were you in?"

"Er — Daniels. 7KYD."

Byron blinked.

"No way! Same as mine. Ha!"

A pause, longer now.

"Tell me—did you ever speak to Vic Landon? From 7UNO."

"Vic? ... What...?"

Vic's mind was racing. That was not his name in school. It was always Victoria, or else Vickie. Vic was now.

"Oh— Guess that's a no, then."

"Byron..."

"Sorry. I'm being really awkward, aren't I?"

"... Byron..."

"Oi! You two!"

Charlie shouted from across the room.

"We're heading back to Alan's now, if you're ready? And Landon—Ste says if you forget your vape this time, he ain't letting you get another!"

Byron turned, staring at Vic, bewildered.

"You two? ... ... Landon?"

"BYRON." Vic's voice was firm.

"VIC?"

*********
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Vic smashed his head into his jacket.

"FUCK!"

"I'm sorry, Vic."

"Fuck. He didn't even hear it from me."

"He worked it out though... eventually"

"I was going to tell him. But there was no real break. And then he blindsided me by asking me if I knew Vic Landon."

"Oh, God."

"And then you saw what happened, right? He scarpered pretty fast after that."

"It was probably the shock."

"... Yeah."

Ste shook his head.

"I'm sorry."

"On a scale of one to ten, how fucked is our friendship? Ugh ... ... ... He didn't even want to get in the same car as me."

"Okay, so don't get mad, but I asked the lads for that to happen. I just thought, and I'm sorry for not running this by you, the drive might give you time to process everything clearly."

... ... ...

"I also thought the lads might be able to give Byron a proper talking to. Because he was... he was ..."

"Ugh. He was Byron."

"Yes. He was Byron."

"That's kind of what made this feel worse. It being Byron. Anyone else and I wouldn't have minded — as much. But... ... ... not him."

"I know."

"Well, the plaster is off now, I suppose. He knows."

"Yes. But at the expense of your night. The reunion—"

"Oh, please. We both know I was only there for you guys. I never wanted to set foot in that building again. Well, won't be going to the next one."

"Not even as 'my boyfriend?’ Ha! ... ... ... Too soon?"

"... ... ... Ste?"

"Yeah?"

"I did the right thing, didn't I? Going to tell him? Well... ... ... trying to anyway?"

"I ... honestly don't think there is a right or wrong in this situation. Not from you. There are plenty of things that we could have handled better, but you ... were just being you. And, despite what some people say, you don't owe anyone an explanation for who you are."

"Then why do I feel so bad?"

"Because you care. You like Byron. And you know the response this will have on him. But that is not your problem."

"... .... ... does... ... does he blame me for disappearing?"

Ste stopped. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white.

"... ... ..."

"oh."

Vic stared straight ahead. Tears began to form.

"Hey now," Ste said softly.

"That's not your fault either. You did what you had to do. And, even after all of that, you came home to us. And I could not be prouder of the man I see before me."

"Ste..."

"And I'm not alone in that sentiment. We all are."

"Thanks."

Vic sniffed.

"No problem, mate. Now, when we get to Alan's, what do you say about a nice pizza?"

"Sounds good."

"But take as long as you need."

"Can I have a vape first?"

"Sure."

==============

Part III:

Byron found Vic sitting cross-legged on the front porch, vaping. Every now and then, he would exhale sharply, releasing artificial clouds into the clear night.

The scent was sweet—raspberry, cherry, and vanilla, like a dessert factory—off-putting to Byron's already racing mind. The sweetness was cloying, weirdly intimate. He hated how much he noticed it—it should have been comforting, but instead, it made his stomach churn.

"Vic?"

His voice made Vic tense.

"Oh... hey... B...Byron."

"Hey."

... ... ...

Byron looked directly at him, as though seeing him—really seeing him—for the first time all evening.

"You... err... want a drag?"

"No, I don't... I don't smoke. Weak gag reflex."

"Oh, yeah... I remember now. You want me to stop?"

"No. You were here first... ... ... May I join you?"

"Sure."

Byron sat beside him, close enough that Vic could feel his knee bouncing.

"I'm... sorry. For ... that. For everything. For these last few months. That was awful. I didn't mean to put you in that position."

"Byron, it's fine. I should be the one apologising. I thought you knew—everyone seemed convinced you did. And... when you started calling me Vic, I just assumed you knew too."

"No, it's not fine, though. You did nothing wrong."

"Do you want to just ... start over from scratch?"

"No. Because that would mean not learning anything from this."

"Oh, I never said that. There's no way I'm letting you live this evening down," Vic chuckled, nudging him in the ribs.

"At least not anytime soon."

"Yeah. I deserve that... ... ... Listen, about some of the stuff I said to you in DMs—"

Vic's heart dropped.

"Forget it. You thought you were talking to the old me. It's fine."

"No... no. I meant it. What I said. How I felt about you back at school. How much you meant to me. How much you still do. How much I've enjoyed having you back in my life. You're still that same person, give or take... You know, gender presentation and ... all ... that..."

"Did that sound better in your head?"

"Yes."

Vic laughed.

"Well, I don't regret our chats either. And... despite earlier, it's so good to see you again in person."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... ... ... Hey. Can I get one of your infamous Chandler hugs?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Byron wrapped his arms around Vic, pulling him into the tightest bear hug.

"Just like old times."

"Yeah... like old times."

"Just promise me you won't disappear again. Not without telling us. P... please?"

"Oh, Byron... ... ... it wasn't like that."

Vic began, then stopped.

"But ... I'm not going anywhere. Besides, even when I left, you were all in my heart."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then I forgive you."

"Hmm. I wasn't asking for it."

"You're still getting it."

"Hmm ... Never change, Byron. Never change."

Byron pulled back from the hug slightly, still close enough that Vic could look into his eyes.

"Maybe a little change wouldn't hurt."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He took a deep breath.

"The idea terrifies me, though."

"I get that."

"I thought you might. Can I tell you a story?"

"Go on."

"When I was eleven, I met this guy. He was funny, charming, witty, and beautiful—inside and out. He treated me like I mattered. So I clung to him tightly, fearing that without him, no one else would ever truly see me again. Not realising this guy was struggling. That he wasn't happy. And then, when the time came, he was gone. But I never forgot him. I hoped I'd meet him again. To thank him. To tell him how happy he made me."

"That's a sweet story."

Vic smiled, rubbing his arm.

"That guy was you, Vic. I know I made an arse of myself tonight, and I have no right to say this, after everything that happened, but I really like you. A lot. I always have. That's... that’s... what I wanted to say to you ... ... ... earlier."

Vic removed the fidget spinner from his pocket and placed it on his lap.

"Byron... ... ... do you understand why I left?"

"I am starting to."

"Not a day went by that I didn't think of you all. But I needed to leave. Because if I hadn't... I wouldn't be where I am now."

"You seem so much... ... ... happier."

"I am happier. And I have my friends and family to thank for that—for never turning their backs on me. Even when I'd turned my back on myself."

"I... um... would like to retract my unnecessary forgiveness."

"Ha. Too late. You gave it now."

"Urgh. Fine."

Byron laughed softly.

"So... where do we go from here?"

"Inside. For pizza and an inevitable game of Cards Against Humanity that'll make me question why I ever came back to you, lovable nerds."

Vic laughed fondly, tousling Byron's hair. He hadn't done that since third year.

"No. I mean ... ... ... after that?"

"I don't know. But I know what I would like to do."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I want to keep talking."

"In the group chat?"

"In the group chat. DMs. In person. However you want. I have ten years to catch up on and so many stories I want to share with you."

"I would like that too."

"Come on," Vic said, standing and offering his hand.

"You and I are going to figure it out as we go. And I promise, no matter how scary or daunting it gets, we'll do it together. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, let's see how quickly this group of queers can besmirch the Von Hohenheim name and reputation."

"I give it two rounds."

"£20?"

"I'll take those odds."