Harold takes a deep breath and pockets the key. "So... How do you like your new place?"

I shrug. Haven't stayed there yet; my bed was the first thing I took over this morning. "It's a place."

He nods. We head outside and lock the door. Every step of the way, I fight back the blistering panic, the thrum of my pulse and my heart in my throat, begging me to get back inside. This is home. Somehow, some way...things need to go back to how they were. I am not strong enough to do this.

But I stand there and watch Harold lock it all away, and I do nothing.

When he turns to me, I think he might be a little misty-eyed himself. "Vincent, look. I know this is all really... Just really shitty. Everything you've been through." He places his hands on my shoulders and leans down, leaving me with little choice but to look him in the eye. "It isn't fair. None of it is, and you sure don't deserve getting tossed out there on your own. I want you to keep my number and call me if there's anything I can do, anything I can help you with. All right?"

My stomach coils with embarrassment at his pity. I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me. But I assure him, "I'll keep your number." I tell myself I'll make sure to delete it if I die, so whoever finds me doesn't call him thinking he's family. So he never has to know what happened to me. He can go on with life thinking I moved on, grew up into some nice, upstanding, and well-balanced guy.

Harold offers to treat me to dinner, but I politely decline with an easy maybe some other time. I'm tired and sore, and I still have boxes to haul from the van to my apartment.

My apartment.

That sounds so weird.

With the table, bed, and television in place, the studio doesn't really look all that small. There's still plenty of floor space. I sold my computer desk, figuring I didn't need one when I had a laptop. The only other piece of furniture I own is a shelf with a meager helping of books and some video games. It looks more empty and lonely than it used to, but I don't know what to fill it with. I'm an avid music downloader and CDs are a waste of time. I'm not big on reading.

I set my laptop on the floor beside my bed and leave it on so I can listen to Paul McCartney and Wings sing me to sleep. Thinking about how to fill that emptiness in my life. That stupid empty shelf.

September

CHAPTER 9

Casper: I was beginning to think you'd ditched me.

I apologize again when I email back. I didn't think about having to get internet hooked up.

She asks what my new place is like. I tell her it's small and dark and I should probably buy another lamp. But I confess to RoxWell the bare walls make me feel lonely.