James caught himself looking around, still not sure if he should believe this. Was it all just an elaborate and cruel hoax? “What’s the worst that can happen?” he thought to himself as he kicked off his shoes and stepped off the grass and onto the beach. The sand was cool and dry and slipped between his toes. It felt like childhood. He walked toward the ocean and his feet began to leave prints in the firm, wet sand. It didn’t matter what Jess or anyone else thought. What mattered was that he was here and Robbie was here and they were finally together again, even if for a few brief moments. He could feel Robbie’s presence all around him, pulsing through the energy of the earth beneath his feet, the wind through his hair, and the waves crashing against the shore. He fell to his knees, laughing and crying, and began writing in the sand. He remembered. This was where they’d first shared those special words, not spoken but etched in the earth, in their first year together. Peace engulfed him. It no longer mattered if he’d said it on that particular morning. Robbie knew. And he knew. And the artist sitting under the blazing red tree sketched it in his book. A man on the beach writing I love you in the sand.

JAMES SAT at the bar in Gotham Steakhouse and slowly sipped a Diet Coke. He’d finally admitted that there was an ongoing battle with alcohol and he wasn’t winning. Autumn had turned to winter, and he was glad to be soaking in the warmth of his favorite Vancouver restaurant. The ceiling soared above him and grandiose gilt mirrors and art deco adorned the walls. The pianist’s jacket and tie were reflections of the black and white keys he teased effortlessly with impromptu jazz.

He smiled to himself as he looked down at his iPhone sitting on the bar. Robbie smiled back at him from his Grindr profile. He’d received the message as he’d been locking up the office. It was direct and to the point. Just like Robbie.

Superhero Drinks?