At Night in the Floating World by Penny Doyle Douglas

Author:Penny Doyle Douglas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, literary, gay, lgbt, contemporary, mm, geisha, dystopian
Publisher: Penny Doyle Douglas

TXT from [unknown]: Hope you’re well. Please be in touch if you can. Wondering why I haven’t heard from you.

Brighton’s thumbs hovered over the tiny keyboard and he was aware of his distraction, of staring at nothing. Eventually he tapped:

I’m sorry

And immediately backspaced to delete it.

You mustn’t try to contact me anym

He deleted that, too. In an attempt to stop himself obsessing about it, Brighton dropped his mobile into the make-up drawer and slid it shut, then opened a different drawer in search of nail varnish to complement the evening’s attire, which was a hanfu gown of deep, emerald green accented with burnished gold embroidery and a long sash of silk shot through with threads of real gold. The party was to be a small one, comprising elderly women, early for tea and cakes. Some kind of reunion. School chums or former work colleagues. It was just as well; Brighton felt weighted down, heavy and exhausted by emotions he refused to name but which were almost certainly close kin to disappointment, and regret.

He fished out the phone once more.

Will you come

He deleted and tried one last time.

I can’t see you anymore because it’s all too dangerous and my entire life will be ruined.

He pressed hard and held down the backspace key until all that remained in the display was the blinking cursor.

I don’t want this anymore.

He deleted it.

Stop.

His finger rested on the backspace key, twitching, itchy. He hated himself indecisive, hated his emotions in a tangle he couldn’t pick apart, sort out, and compartmentalise properly, when he’d worked hard his whole life at keeping them in strict order.

Delete? Send? He knew which he should do, which he should want, but then he couldn’t help but envision what he shouldn’t want. Nick Barber. Again. More. Nick Barber beneath the solid crush of his own clothes-rack body. Nick Barber open-mouthed, groaning out loud, gratefully—easily—taking all Brighton put on offer and then silently requesting even more. Brighton couldn’t bring himself to do what he really should, really must if he was to survive it. He believed Nick when he said he would keep up his pursuit unless and until Brighton told him to stop. And certainly Nick Barber—the liar—was a man of his word.

Brighton deleted his text.

The phone buzzed alive in his hand, the sudden shock of reality so startling he nearly dropped it.

TXT from [unknown]: Brighton. Please. I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re waiting for me to say.

Brighton tucked the phone back into the drawer, shut it a bit harder than was strictly necessary, and the metallic bang soothed his nerves. Once he got his feet under him, he fled the dressing room.

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