Of course he’d known exactly where he was headed without even opening the map to see where his phantom boyfriend was. Gotham, their preferred meeting spot for Friday night after-work drinks that most often would turn into late-night dinners. How many Friday evenings had they spent here? Countless hours of laughter and conversation over dry martinis. Even after six years together, James always felt he’d fall a little more in love with his partner after an evening at Gotham. It was just something special that they shared. No matter where the conversation started, it would always end in a familiar battleground. The ongoing debate over who was the superior superhero: Batman or Superman. James always vouched for Batman; after all, he was a human who had used his own intelligence, strength, and perseverance to seek justice. In his mind, this made Batman the most worthy of the title. He wasn’t born on an alien planet with extraordinary abilities but had found the superhero within himself. Robbie would tirelessly inventory Superman’s heroic exploits and get that look in his eye. It turned him on, and James knew it. Once the superhero debate began, it was never long before they were asking for the check and stumbling out into the street. It was a short walk home to Yaletown from Gotham, and if they were lucky, on a winter night, it might even snow.

The bartender took James’s empty glass and snapped him back to the present. “You want another?”

James shook his head and glanced around the room that had filled up considerably. The buzz of conversation surrounded them as the bartender looked down the bar and back to James. “You know how sand in an hourglass seems to flow slower when you first turn it over? That’s what my life feels like sometimes, working here.”

James looked at the handsome young guy as he picked up his phone and shoved it in his pocket. “Then get a new job. Don’t wish your life away.”

JAMES HURRIED down Water Street in Gastown. The gas lamp streetlights were already ablaze, casting a romantic glow across the cobblestone road and creating fleeting silhouettes of passersby against the brick buildings. Spring had sprung, and with it the flower boxes along the sidewalk. He studied the Grindr map once again on his iPhone, somewhat puzzled. Up until now Robbie had selected places where’d they shared special memories, but Gastown was not an area of town that they’d frequented. The GPS flag appeared to be at #6 Powell Street. James crossed the six-point intersection at Carrall, Water, and Powell and approached a black door with a brass plate that read The Diamond.

James tentatively pushed open the door and followed a steep staircase up. Reaching the second floor, the stairwell opened into the foyer of a stylish loft restaurant. He approached the hostess and asked for a table for one.