My entire staff and I spent the first few months running around like headless chickens, trying to figure out how to actually run a bar. Everything we’d learned before opening our doors had still not prepared us for the madness that owning one would be. Thankfully, the people I’d hired were capable professionals who knew what they were doing, so it wasn’t a disaster. But boy, was there a lot to do.

Eventually, we got the hang of it. And I loved my job as the owner. I loved my staff. I loved the bar. I even loved the paperwork because it was my own paperwork, not someone else’s.

And I really loved this new city. I didn’t feel so insecure as an openly gay man, and I came to understand the community we had here was much larger than what I’d even dared to expect. It was so easy to make new friends, and meet new people, and even though this place wasn’t completely void of homophobia, the attitude was still much, much nicer.

I had a few dates as well, but nothing too serious came out of them. My bar had most of my interest – and time – so I didn’t really have the energy to start anything serious. And I guess I still wasn’t quite over with being stabbed, so going out on dates did make me nervous at times. Even after all these years, I still feared I’d get attacked again if someone saw me holding hands with another guy. So, while I still was working through my past trauma and trying to own a bar, I was more than happy to take my time and ease my way back into dating life.

Although… There was a hot guy at my gym.

He had to be straight because that would be just my luck, but still, I never could stop myself from stealing glances at him.

And man, he was really nice to look at. He had dark, messy hair with natural highlights, sharp features, and such a smoking hot body I couldn’t help feeling jealous. He always worked alone and always had the same routine. I knew because no matter how hard I tried not to, I still watched him. Quite a lot.

One day, I dared to exchange a few words with him when I ran into him in the dressing room.

“Nice day for sweating, am I right?” I asked.

“…Sure,” he replied, giving me a side-eyed glance.

“It’s supposed to rain again, I guess,” I continued, suddenly feeling nervous as hell.

“Hmmh…”

“Yeah,” I managed to mutter in my awkwardness. “Well, have fun out there,” I said and fled the scene, my heart pumping.

He clearly wasn’t interested in speaking to me, so I was kind of surprised when I noticed him watching me and my friends. A few weeks later, I understood why. He kept giving us annoyed glances whenever we were being too loud or started goofing around. So he was the serious type, which was kind of a bummer. I mean, obviously he still was straight, and even if he wasn’t, I’d never find the guts to ask him out, so it didn’t actually matter.

But then…

One night, I was hanging out in the bar after my shift, drinking beer and chatting with my staff and those who were willing to listen to me long enough. It was raining outside, and I had nothing better to do. The bar was my second home, after all, and I much rather hung out there than stayed in my silent apartment.

The door opened behind me, and I heard someone entering the bar, but I didn’t turn to look. Not until someone took a seat a few stools away from me.

It was him. In my bar. In my gay bar.

Did this mean…? No, him being in a gay bar did not automatically mean he was into guys. But maybe he was? The chances sure were a hell of a lot higher than what I’d thought. But was he single?

Oh, please, let him be gay and single…

I had to get a grip on myself. Fast. I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and the only times the guy had acknowledged my existence was when he got annoyed with us. The situation was already doomed.

He ordered his beer while I tried so hard not to stare at him, but of course I failed. And he noticed it. I didn’t have time to look away when he suddenly glanced at me. It was a pure miracle I didn’t freeze on the spot, especially with his dark eyes on me…

“I do know you,” I said, acting like I hadn’t been drooling all over his wet appearance. “I see you almost every day at the gym.”

“Oh. Yes… Hi,” he said, taking the beer from my bartender, Shawn, then turned back to me.

“Never seen you here, though,” I said tentatively, encouraged to keep talking since he showed a little bit of interest in me.

“I just wanted to grab a beer before heading home,” he said.

“You live around here too?”

“A few blocks away.”

Oh man, that was awesome to hear. Now I had to know if he was into guys, especially since he didn’t seem so annoyed by me this time. It probably was just wishful thinking, but maybe he really was interested.

He was drinking his beer fast, though… I had to make a move. I just had to, or I’d regret letting this opportunity go for the rest of my life.

“You… in a hurry?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“Not really.”

Good, good…

“You want to drink alone, or…?”

He shrugged. I took that as a sign he was willing to hang out with me.

“Great!” I said, gesturing for him to follow me with a wave of my hand. I wanted a bit of privacy, and not have Shawn right there, smirking at me as I tried to make my move.

“I’m Cole, by the way. Cole Smith.”

“Randall.”

Hmm… He didn’t look like Randall to me. A weird thought.

But there was something new in his eyes the next time I looked at him. His expression was more… tense now. I hoped it wasn’t because of me.

“You look spooked,” I said and tried to give him a friendly smile while we sat down. I knew some people found me too straightforward. And boy, I knew just how much I could talk, so I felt like I should warn him. “Don’t mind me. I’ve been here for over an hour already, and I get a bit chatty after a few beers.”

He didn’t seem any less spooked. This was going great already…

“You’re… alone?” he asked, looking around the bar with only mild interest in his eyes.

“I already talked everyone’s ears off, so they bailed.”

“And I’m the next victim.”

“You seem like the quiet type, so I get to do all the talking,” I joked, hoping it would break the ice.

“I… see…”

“So you’ve never been here before?” I asked, trying to figure out the best way to find out if he was straight, like I feared.

“…No.”

“What do you think?”

“…About what?”

“The bar,” I said.

He glanced around and shrugged. “It’s cool.”

“Just cool?”

“…yes?”

He really didn’t want to say much…

“Cool. I own it,” I said, still feeling proud to say that.

“The… bar?” he asked, retreating a little for some reason.

“Yes,” I said, looking around. “I always wanted to open a bar and here it is. It might not be much, but the area is perfect for a gay bar.”

“So you’re… gay?” he suddenly asked, and I nearly choked on air.

This was it!

“Yes. And you…?” I asked carefully, praying silently…

He didn’t reply to me. The timid look in his eyes grew worse, and now he definitely was turning distant. I suddenly realized this man carried scars of his own, and I felt so incredibly bad for not realizing it sooner. I, of all people, should know just how hard it was to be openly gay.

“How long have you been working out?” I asked, hurrying to change the subject.

“Um… Ever since I was sixteen,” he told me, still avoiding me, but he seemed glad about the change of subject.

“Oh! Maybe you can teach me then. I only started when I moved here,” I said, glad I hadn’t messed things up already.

“I guess. But I don’t really think you need my help. You’re doing great already.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” I asked before I could shut my damn pie hole.

And I regretted it immediately. This guy was trying. He probably was way out of his safe zone, maybe still only figuring things out, and I kept making things worse for him.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Again. For the third time, actually…” I muttered.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, not looking at me. “I’m… not very good at this, so…”

“Fair enough. You can just tell me to piss off if you want.”

I was actually sure he would tell me to piss off. When he looked at me, I saw fear. I saw pure, honest fear in his eyes. His scars were so big I could almost see them.

But he surprised me and leaned closer.

“Well… There are a few techniques I could show you. You’ll destroy your back if you continue doing them wrong.”

“Really?”

I chuckled before I could stop myself – again. I was just so glad I hadn’t ruined anything. And as we continued chatting about working out, he became less timid. The fear still stayed, but as long as the conversation stayed in safe waters, he continued talking quite freely.

In the end, I wasn’t sure where I had gotten myself into, but I was by no means any less interested in him. I was dying to know more about him. At least as a friend. He seemed like he didn’t have many people to talk to. I could tell that by how his voice grew hoarse only after a little bit of talking.

“I loved Vanishing Point! You know that movie, right? The one with the Dodge Challenger and the guy with a pregnant wife?”

“I… No?”

“You have to watch it! It’s the best movie ever made! It’s the reason I fell in love with old cars in the first place!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have it on DVD. You can borrow it,” I said, hoping he would take my offer so I’d get an excuse to meet him again.

“Sure, sure,” he said.

Yes…!

“Good. And you better watch it,” I said and smirked. “I’ll bring it to the gym tomorrow. You’ll be there, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded.

He left pretty soon after that. I wanted to walk him home, but I didn’t even dare to ask. I had the feeling that being in my bar, talking to me, had been a huge step for him. That fear in his eyes… I couldn’t forget it. The guy had been through hell, but he was trying.

And I already felt the need to be there for him.