That fear in his eyes… I’d seen it again when we were supposed to meet at the gym a week ago. I’d wanted to follow him and make sure he was all right, but his angry gaze had stopped me. I’d thought we’d talk it out the next day or the day after that, but he never showed up at the gym while I was there.

I had to find out where he worked. I couldn’t just leave it at that, so I made an excuse to bring him the DVD and leave him a note. I hoped he’d contact me. He didn’t. At least he was still coming to work, so… I mean… I’d lost too many people to suicide…

And I could tell Randall wasn’t doing well at all.

If it wasn’t clear enough, seeing him standing outside my bar, crying silently, looking so lost and scared and helpless, confirmed it. I immediately knew I couldn’t let him leave. I would’ve followed him no matter where he went, but thankfully, he was the one who followed.

I couldn’t stop feeling like he needed my help, but didn’t know how to ask. He stayed in my bar without getting up even once, just staring into nothingness. His eyes were so wide… His body was completely stiff… I wanted to know what he was so afraid of. Someone? Or something?

When he finally started calming down, little by little, I was able to breathe again. I’d feared he would suddenly leave when I wasn’t watching, but maybe he felt safe enough to stay. That was the whole reason I opened my bar. So we could have a safe place to hang out.

By the end of the night, I was still reluctant to leave him alone, so I offered to walk him home. I wanted to make sure he was feeling better, and it seemed like it. And… I knew how wrong it sounded, but I wanted to see where he lived. In case… Just in case.

And he promised to meet me at the gym the next day.

I… may have stayed outside, watching the building to see which floor he lived on. Just in case. I just… I had a really bad feeling… If he suddenly stopped coming to the gym or going to work, I’d know where to come looking for him.

I saw the lights getting turned on in an apartment on the second floor. No curtains. I backed away in hopes of seeing Randal walking past the window, but I was not in such luck. It had to be his place, though. It didn’t even matter. I hoped it didn’t matter.

After a while, I had to admit I was being creepy, so I started heading back home. I still couldn’t shake the bad feeling, but I hoped Randall was now calm and would go straight to bed.

Once I got home, I made a snack for myself and sat down in front of the TV, but I never turned it on. I was still thinking about Randall, and his fearful eyes.

What was going on? What had happened to him? What had brought him to my bar?

I had so many more questions, but I had the feeling it would take a while before I’d get a single answer. But I was going to try. Randall came to me today, and I wasn’t going to turn my back on him.

I had the nightmare again.

I stumbled forward, and Gilbert jumped out of the way, still screaming at me. Waving the knife. I saw the bright sunshine behind the windows. I could still smell the dusty air in the hallway. I held my side when I collapsed, still not understanding what was going on. All I knew was the pain spreading in my side.

I lifted my hand and saw red.

“FAGGOT!! DIE ALREADY!!”

I heard several doors opening somewhere below us. I heard voices. I heard footsteps.

They hated me.

They hated me for who I loved.

But at least one of them didn’t want to see me dead…

“So… Who was that guy from last night?”

I nearly jumped when I heard the familiar voice next to me. I turned to glance at my bartender, Gina, who had scared me out of my memories. I turned my attention back to the inventory list in my hand before answering to her.

“Someone who’s going through a rough time,” I said quietly.

“You’ve never mentioned him,” Gina continued, curious as ever.

“I… He’s not been around for long. But please, if he ever comes here, just… give him a beer on the house and let him be alone. He’s… He needs it.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “He doesn’t look too good, that’s why I asked…”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Let the others know, too. He’s a special guest now. Give him space. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I feel like he could use a safe place to stay.”

“Don’t we all?” she smirked, grabbing a box from the shelf.

I let out an amused snort. Yeah, we all often needed a safe place, which was why it wasn’t actually funny. Just… Sad. This city was better, though, but that really didn’t mean the bad things weren’t happening around here as well.

Randall was a good example of that.

I still couldn’t stop thinking about him. I still couldn’t stop trying to guess why he’d been standing outside my bar, crying. I hoped he was doing better now, that he knew he could come back anytime he wanted, and he’d be safe here.

The wait until five o’clock was tormenting. I couldn’t focus on work, and after pouring the third wrong drink for customers, Gina ushered me away from the counter. I was back being stuck doing inventory, and I was doing a lousy job with it as well. I had to count the same boxes three times before I got the right number.

I was just so nervous. I feared Randall wouldn’t show up today. I feared he would never show up again. I couldn’t shake that feeling. Why was I so sure he’d… do something he would never be able to take back? Why did I have this feeling that his entire life was hanging in the balance?

I could only hope he’d show up today…

I stopped to take a break and went to get my sandwiches from the fridge in the backroom. I sat down on the couch and absentmindedly started eating, staring at the wall in front of me.

Years ago, my life was hanging in the balance. First, I’d fought for my life at the hospital with a stab wound between my ribs. But even after the wound was fully healed, the battle to stay alive didn’t stop.

I’d been too scared to leave my apartment in months, not without someone accompanying me. I went for days without sleeping because I was too scared to close my eyes – until I was prescribed heavy medication. I’d lost half of my weight because I was too anxious to eat.

I’d seen a lot of myself in Randall’s fearful eyes.

I moved three times, but the fear still lingered until I landed here, in this city, and met my current psychologist, another gay man with an abusive past who knew exactly how to help me. I honestly wouldn’t be there, sitting in the backroom of my very own bar without his aid. Hell, sometimes I wondered if I’d be alive at all.

I had been so tired of living in constant fear. So tired of the evil in this world.

So tired of being hated for who I loved.

Not anymore. Apart from the nightmares and my mildly compulsive need to check my surroundings before opening any kind of door, I was in quite a good balance with myself. I was enjoying my life again. I was happy to be alive.

I just… really hoped Randall would show up today. I wanted to help him, no matter what he was going through. He hadn’t asked for it, but the way he told me he wasn’t doing well, forcing every single word out of his mouth… It had sounded a lot like he was asking for my help.

Finally, it was four o’clock, and I left work. I hurried home to get ready for gym, even though I still had almost an hour to spare. I just wanted to be there when he’d arrive. If he’d arrive…

So I ended up being almost thirty minutes too early, but there was a bench under the trees close by, so I went to sit down and started my long wait, staring at the front door of the gym.