DeeJay's
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Payton stifled a yawn. He pressed his keycard against the pad that would unlock the stairwell door. It was around 11:30 on a Friday, and he was only now leaving the Soleil campus. He rubbed an eye behind his glasses as he tromped down the flights to the lobby, his shoes echoing on the steps.
He would still be working tomorrow, but at least he could put aside the items that required other people, as nobody else would be in the office until Monday. He mentally sifted through the tasks he was responsible for this weekend as he tugged on his coat and followed the carpet pattern of the first floor to the entrance.
The security guard let him into the night. It was lightly drizzling outside. Payton yawned again. The wet parking lot asphalt glimmered in the dim light as Payton made his way across to his solitary car.
His pocket began to vibrate.
Dahlia. He ignored it for the moment.
After sliding behind the wheel, he tossed his bag onto the passenger side and started up the heat. He yawned for the third time and pulled out his phone to glance at while the car warmed up.
No, it wasn't Dahlia. Some unknown number. Probably spam.
Before he was able to return it to his pocket, the number called again. He frowned, curious. He didn't recognize it, but it was a local area code. He answered it.
"Payton."
"Hi, yeah, this is DeeJay's," explained a slightly gruff voice on the other end over sounds of chatter and loud music. "Is this Payton?"
"Um…" Payton rubbed his eyes. "Yes?"
"Yeah, we got someone here who needs a pick up. Amrey? Ahm-or-ee? Blake?"
"Oh," Payton connected the dots. "Is he alright?"
"Yeah, just needs a ride home. He gave us your number. Can you come pick him up?"
"Sure. I'll uh…I'll be there soon."
"Great, thanks."
Payton hung up and sighed. At least Amory was enjoying his Friday. Well, somewhat. It was more than likely that his date had stood him up if he was reaching out for Payton's help.
Payton put the car in gear and headed towards DeeJay's.
His phone vibrated again. He glanced down. This time it was Dahlia. He clenched his teeth and decided to let it go to voicemail. She was generally okay with gaps of his time totaling twenty minutes or so. Besides, he was driving, and a law-abiding citizen such as himself wouldn't take a call while driving.
He pulled into the lot of DeeJay's Bar and Grille ten minutes later, ignoring a second phone call from his mother while he pressed his weight on the door and swung it open.
He maneuvered through gaggles of the cheerful clientele engaged in their Friday revelry - gossiping, guffawing, slugging down beers. He arrived at the bar in the back and squeezed himself between a rowdy group to flag down a worker.
"What can I get you?" asked a blonde woman behind the bar with heavy eye make-up.
"No, I…I'm here for Amory."
"What?" She leaned in closer.
"Someone called me to pick up…someone," Payton said a little louder, hoping what he said made any sense.
"Oh, right...over there," the woman pointed around to a corner on the opposite side.
Payton made his way around, finally arriving at Amory, who had his head tilted into his his palm, watching the overhead television dreamily. Payton slid into the seat beside him.
"Hey."
Amory slowly rotated his head around to regard him, realized who it was, and smiled. "Hey, you."
"You ready to go h–"
"You wanna know somethin' funny?" Amory interrupted him. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and fumbled with it a moment, then produced a dog-eared piece of cardstock and handed it to Payton. "Look what I have."
Payton looked. It was his business card, but from a year or so ago. They had since updated the design. "Wow. An antique."
"No, listen." Amory pressed his finger onto the card. "That's how they called you, cuz my phone died. And I don't remember anyone's number."
Unsurprising. Amory remembered to charge his phone maybe once every couple of days. Payton had figured this was how they reached him. He handed it back to Amory.
"Should probably hang onto that, then. Did you close your tab?"
"Hey, you know, you should get a drink or somethin," Amory suggested. "It's on me, okay?"
It was tempting, but Payton shook his head. "Come on, let's pay and get you home."
"That might be a good idea, actually. I was watching, like. Football." Amory gestured to the screen above.
"You looked invested."
"God. Yeah, I gotta get out of here."
He tried to get the card back into his wallet, dropped it. Payton picked it up.
"Sorry," said Amory. "I have nooo idea about this stuff. No idea."
Payton decided not to answer that, given that it didn't make much sense. He waved down another bartender and handed over Amory's card. They returned a receipt to him and he handed the pen to Amory.
Amory handed it back to him. "Can you…uh. Do the tip math?"
"Sure."
"You can sign it too."
Payton printed 'AMORY.'
Amory examined it closely, nodded his approval. "You make a good me."
"I'm honored. Did you bring a coat?"
Amory tipped himself off the stool, surprisingly steadily. "It's not cold out."
Payton should have known. Amory didn't wear a coat until it was below freezing. He pointed towards the exit. "Okay, let's go."
"BYYYEE, THANK YOOOUUU," Amory leaned over the counter and called to the bartenders. A few waved back, with some 'take cares' and 'get home safes', but most ignored him. He twisted back around to Payton, grinning.
"This place is really great. I love it. They have awesome drinks. We should come back here."
"Yes, but to do that, we have to leave. Come on."
Amory finally started moving, and Payton watched him briefly to try to determine if he was going to have to involve himself in the process. Luckily, Amory's balance wasn't too bad. Maybe overcorrecting a little, but managing himself well enough that Payton could look down at his phone as they walked.
12 missed calls.
Fuck.
"Dahlia, I just had to…Listen, please. I had to go take care of someo--something," Payton stammered into the reciever when they were in the silence of his car. "Yes, I'm on my way home. Yes. I…I understand."
Amory clumsily fiddled with a pack of gum he had discovered in Payton's glovebox.
"Yes…I…" Payton waited as his mother chewed him out. "I know, but I was–"
She hung up.
Payton lowered the phone. Closed his eyes for a moment. Counted to ten.
"You good?" Amory checked in.
"Fine," Payton mumbled. "Just missed a few things today that were…apparently priority. It's not a problem. I'm gonna drop you off at home, okay?"
In the few moments between Dahlia hanging up her call and Payton starting the engine, his phone started to buzz and light up with ping after ping.
Emails.
His mother often ended the week by forwarding all of the action items from her inbox to him, so he would be able to see everything she was currently working on. She did this probably to show him how many urgent matters she had on her plate, making a point that he should be taking initiative by relieving her of some of them.
It also meant she was going to bed. And expecting that he would not be.
Soliel's senior management kept churning, twenty-four hours a day.
After another minute of constant pings, Payton watched as Amory picked up Payton's phone from the center console, carefully, with two fingers, as if he was handling something disgusting, and then flung it into the dark behind them.
Payton pretended to be annoyed. "I'm making you fish that out if it slides under the seats."
"Mmm, I think…it can stay there," said Amory thickly.
Payton smiled.
While on the road, Amory turned on the radio, scanned a few channels, settled on one, and leaned back.
"You know," Amory began, his voice a little loud for just the two of them. "I was thinking."
"Mm?"
"If I had my own language, like, if I could make up my own language entirely, right? I would not have any letters that repeat. Every sound would have its own letter. And then we wouldn't be like. Is it Aaah, or is it Aaay?"
"Maybe you should put an umlaut on your name," Payton suggested.
"Like those little dots?
"Yeah."
"No, I couldn't do that," Amory said, very solemnly.
"Why not?"
"They'd get lost," he whispered.
Payton opened his mouth, and then closed it. You know what, he was just gonna leave this one be.
He pulled over to get some gas. Amory squinted out at the illuminated station.
"Where are we?"
"Mars."
"Ahh," said Amory, satisfied.
Payton filled up the tank, and for a half-second, considered using Dahlia's corporate card to pay for it. He had been at work since 6am and it still wasn't enough. Not for her. Never. Maybe she could pay for his gas once in a while.
He decided against it. She would grill him about the expense and he would have to explain he was just feeling really fucking petty.
While inside the station, he grabbed a couple of bottles of Gatorade for Amory, and a packet of Alka-Seltzer.
It wasn't until he was standing in line that it dawned on him he hadn't yet discovered why Amory was stranded at DeeJay's, alone and completely blotto. It wasn't his style. He was always in some kind of group, unless he was ditched by a date. But he hadn't mentioned waiting on anyone.
And he certainly would have by now.
As much as Payton enjoyed Amory's company, he was always going on about his dating woes. So-and-so didn't show up, what's-her-face didn't text back, and on and on. And Amory, bless his heart, was always eager to dump these useless tidbits of information on Payton. A few weeks later the cycle would repeat, but with different people.
After he cashed out, he turned towards the door, just as Amory walked in. The door gave a welcome beep as he stepped through.
Payton handed him a Gatorade. "I was just coming back out."
"I know, but I missed you," Amory joked.
Payton herded him back outside, and, for a moment, considered putting him in the back seat with the safety lock on. Eventually, after some trouble with the seatbelt, they were back on the road.
"So, what was going on at DeeJay's tonight?" Payton started, carefully. "Did they have trivia or something?"
"Hm? No. Why, you wanna play sometime?" Amory leaned in closer, brightening.
"Absolutely not."
"Come on! I'll bet we would win. You know a lot of smart stuff."
Payton tried again. "Did you have a date?"
"Nah, not today. Tonight."
"Just you?"
"Uh-huh." Amory leaned back again, turning to look out the window.
Payton tapped his finger on the steering wheel. "That's just kind of unusual, that's all," he ventured.
Amory shrugged. "It's okay. I mean. I had fun."
"That's good."
"Yeah."
Payton pulled into the garage of Amory's apartment complex. He circled around, chose a spot. Parked.
Amory hadn't said anything for a while. Payton decided he would nudge him one last time, and if he didn't get a response, he would let it go.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," said Amory. He pushed his hand up through his bangs and around to the back of his head. "Thanks for picking me up."
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing, nothing. I'm great," Amory said, and flashed an unconvincing smile.
Payton watched him for a moment.
Amory inhaled deeply, let his breath out slow. "It's just…I guess. I don't know."
"Mm?"
"I lost more hours this week," he finally relinquished. "They just. Disappeared. Gone."
Payton bit his lip. "When?"
"I don't know. Like on Tuesday or somewhere. I don't remember. I mean, it's nothing big. It's scary. But it's okay. I'm not like…I mean, I'm okay. I didn't go anywhere. I was just home the whole time. But it's scary."
Payton gave him a moment to continue, but Amory took a long swig of Gatorade and took his time twisting the cap on.
"So–" Payton started, but Amory spoke over him.
"I'm just tired. Really tired. I don't know what to do. All the time I'm me I just spend so much time…in my house. Overthinking. Cleaning. Over and over again. I'm so scared to go to work, sometimes. You know? I'm so scared I'm going to…to take all the crazy with me. And then this…this person comes out that's not me, but he might be doing better than me. Not cleaning and thinking and being weird. I don't know. Like, maybe I'm…"
He paused, sniffed.
"Like…maybe that's…the me I'm supposed to be. Maybe I'm not the person that's supposed to…be here. You know? I'm the one that's…that's crazy."
Payton let out a breath. "Amory, you're not crazy. Don't say that."
"You know what I mean."
"I know. Listen, life is stressful and we all have trouble managing stress. It manifests in different ways, that's all."
Amory pulled a hand up through his hair again, fidgeting. "It's not normal."
"Well…" Payton looked out at the parking garage for a moment. "I think it's normal to feel that you're not normal. But I don't think the you that's here is wrong, or weird, or crazy."
"A little crazy." Amory rubbed an eye.
"Okay. Yes. You're crazy for a many reasons. But not the reasons you're thinking of."
Amory smirked.
"I'm sorry you're going through all that. You know you can talk to me about it, right? You don't have to numb it out with mixed drinks."
"Psh." Amory waved the notion away.
"I'm serious," Payton asserted.
"You're too busy to have to care about this crap."
Payton unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat to face Amory. He held his gaze for a beat.
"I will always make time for this. For…for you. You know that."
The sincerity thoroughly embarrassed both of them. Amory giggled awkwardly and gave Payton a playful push on the shoulder.
"C'mon…you don't have to say mushy stuff like that. You're such a…a nerd."
"Yeah, well…" Payton cleared his throat.
"Also, you should talk. About numbing out stuff."
Payton quickly popped open the driver's side door and evacuated before Amory could continue. "Let's get you inside. I have to head out soon."
Amory rolled his eyes and spilled out onto the pavement, letting out a muffled curse as he landed.
"You alright?" Payton joined him.
Amory cackled at himself. "Man, I was keeping it together so well," he lamented, rolling over onto his hands and knees.
Payton took his hand and helped yank him onto his feet. "You've been very coherent."
"Thank you. I'm trying really hard." Amory dusted his jeans off.
"Should we take the elevator?"
"Which level are we on?"
"Uh," Payton looked around until he found a number. "Two."
"We'll take the stairs, its just one stair up." Amory pointed, and started zigzagging towards the door. "I mean set. Set of stairs."
Payton watched Amory confidently take four steps up, miss the fifth by half a sneaker, and just barely manage to catch himself from slamming his face on the next few. He processed this for a moment, then turned around back to Payton.
"Let's take the elevator."
"Good idea."
When they finally reached the apartment and stepped inside, it was immediately apparent that Amory had been really going through something.
Usually his rituals were hard to notice unless you really knew what you were looking for. But at some point this week Amory had moved all his kitchen appliances to the couch. The toaster, kettle, and microwave were all huddled together with the electrical cords pulled out onto the rug and lined up in straight parallel lines.
Amory gestured loosely at them. "That's just…don't worry about that."
"It's okay."
Payton toed off his shoes and followed Amory to the kitchen. The oven was pulled out from the wall, with its plug also dragged out into view. All of his dish, glassware, pots and pans had been pulled out of the cabinets and clustered together on the counter.
Amory casually picked up a cup. "D'you want water? I'm gonna get some water."
"I'm good."
"Sorry about. You know," Amory said quietly. "All the stuff."
While he drank it down, Payton opened the door of his fridge and peeked in. It was still plugged in, which was a relief.
"Do you wanna watch a movie?" Amory asked, leaning against the sink.
"No, I think you should head to bed. I have to get going."
"Aw…A short movie?"
"Look, if I watch anything, I'm gonna pass out," Payton zipped up his coat, willing himself to stick to the plan.
"Are you hungry? Do you want like…a snack or something?" Amory stumbled over to one of the cabinets and tugged it open.
"Um…" Payton thought about it. He knew he hadn't eaten dinner. Had he eaten lunch? He honestly couldn't remember. He dug around in his coat pocket and his fingers met the uneaten granola bar he had planned to consume at some point in the afternoon.
Amory struggled to twist the lid off a jar of pickles for a few moments, before losing grip and dropping it on the kitchen tile.
Luckily, it didn't break, but he groaned anyway.
"Shit."
Payton sighed, unzipped his coat. "Hey. Why don't you go lie down. I'll make something."
"No, I can do it, I got it–"
"Amory. Go."
Defeated, Amory shuffled off to the bedroom. Payton tossed his coat on one of the bar stools and dragged a hand down his face.
Exhaustion was setting in. This was dangerous. He had so much to do and every part of him was screaming for sleep.
He pulled out a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of whole wheat. Something easy, he thought. Something that didn't have to be heated. Since most heating options were currently banished to the couch.
The apartment was cozy and warm. Payton blinked heavily. He was starting to feel as uncoordinated as Amory. He mentally mapped which convenience stores nearby might be open. They had energy drinks there, right? He had ways of staying awake, right? So use them to stay awake, moron.
He was not staying. He could not stay.
Payton made himself a sandwich too, wrapped a paper towel sheet around both of them and brought them to the bedroom.
Except for his boxer shorts, Amory was fully undressed, rummaging around in his dresser drawer for a clean shirt. Payton felt a twinge of bashfulness, which was his typical reaction when Amory was partially naked. A result of his own modest nature he couldn't control.
Amory yanked a shirt on over his head. It was blue and read "Mattapan Bowling League 2003." Something Payton was one-thousand percent sure he had never participated in. He handed one of the sandwiches to him.
"What did you make?" Amory took it and settled down onto his bed.
"Peanut butter."
Amory looked up at him, his eyes shining. "You made me a peanut butter sandwich?"
Payton sat on the edge of the bed and lifted his own sandwich to his mouth. "That's the long and short of it, yes."
"Man, that's really adorable. You are so adorable," Amory grinned. "This is so sweet."
Payton felt his cheeks grow warm. He fixed his eyes on the floor as he chewed.
"Thank you for picking me up," Amory said, muffled by the bite he was working on. Then, unprompted, "I think Dahlia's such a bitch."
Payton snorted, but also remembered his phone was still in the back seat of the car. "Yeah, well. She's even moreso when I'm in trouble. I should still get going," he added weakly.
Amory gently patted the sheets next to him. "Sleep. It's late."
Sleep. Just the word nearly hypnotized him.
Payton was losing this battle. He felt a heavy pressure pushing down on his shoulders, a dullness that was drowning out the screaming of his better judgement.
God, fuck it. Just fuck it.
He finished his sandwich, brushed the crumbs off his work pants, and crawled back towards the pillow.
Amory gave Payton's hair a tousle. "Goodnight."
Payton was asleep before he could answer.
