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Chapter six: The Joke

Author: Jewella
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-01 15:10:31

Alex~

After I lay in bed eavesdropping, I kind of have a fade to black experience where I fall asleep and I woke up at 11am on Saturday morning.

From where I lay, I can see Seth’s empty bed that looks untouched, like he hadn’t lay in it last night. I brush the thought of him aside because somehow, these days he seems to be occupying so much space in my head.

I go to the bathroom and brush the morning breath out of my mouth before I lean against the sink and take a good look at my face.

I look like I’ve been dragged through the gates of hell for a week nonstop. I guess that’s what having a bi roommate that makes you question your sexuality while you’re actively dating would do to a person.

Before I leave the bathroom, I listen to know if he is in the room and do the same when I’m about to leave the room.

Just as I tiptoe into the kitchen hoping he is gone for the day, I hear his voice, deepened my his sleep.

“You doing alright?”

Seth’s voice pulls me out of my own head. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, fresh from a shower, damp curls pushed back from his face, gym shorts riding low like gravity’s doing him a favor.

I blink, trying to process the question. “Yes?”

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d like to show you some place.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. You know, humans occasionally go out and do things that aren’t drowning in coursework or pretending to enjoy their girlfriend’s Snapchat streaks.”

I frown. “I have a paper due Monday.”

He tilts his head, unimpressed. “And what better way to brainstorm than in a room full of questionable lighting and overpriced cocktails?”

I squint at him. “What kind of place are we talking about?”

He grins, all teeth. “Chill spot. Music, drinks, decent energy.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is it a bar?”

Seth shrugs too casually. “More or less.”

My stomach does a small, traitorous flip. “What does ‘more or less’ mean?”

He tries to suppress a smirk and fails. “It’s a gay bar.”

I stare at him. “You’re joking.”

His grin widens. “Not even a little.”

My first instinct is to laugh not because it’s funny, but because I’m nervous and unsure what else to do. “Why would I… why the hell would I go to a gay bar with you?” After our conversation last night, he had huge guts to even suggest the thing.

“Because it’ll be fun,” he says, like it’s that simple. “And maybe, just maybe, you’ll stop acting like the world’s going to end every time someone mentions the word ‘gay’ in your general direction.”

I cross my arms. “I’m not—” I want to say homophobic but that’s be me lying, I’ve acted it at every turn.

He cuts me off, stepping closer. “Don’t overthink it. No pressure. You don’t have to label yourself. Just… come. Have a drink. Watch people who actually know how to enjoy being themselves.”

There’s a beat and I fucking hate that he’s making sense.

“I don’t belong there.”

“Sure you do. It’s not like there’s a bouncer checking Kinsey scores at the door.”

I huff, unsure if I want to punch him or thank him. Probably both. “I’ll think about it.”

He flashes a smug, lazy grin. “Not a no. I’ll take it.”

I tell myself I’m not going. I even change into regular stay at home clothes, then I change out of them. Then I pace.

When nine pm rolls around, Seth’s knocking at the door, dressed in black jeans and a snug navy tee that should be illegal. He looks like he belongs somewhere loud, lit, and dangerous.

“You ready?”

I want to say no, but my feet move anyway. Towards him and to the bar.

The bar is nothing like I expected.

From the outside, it’s almost unassuming low brick, tucked between a laundromat and a vape shop. But inside, it’s alive. Neon lights pulse low and steady, music thumps from invisible speakers, bass crawls up through the soles of my sneakers. There’s laughter, clinking glasses, flirtation that doesn’t even try to be subtle.

And guys. Lots and lots of guys.

Holding hands, kissing in corners and laughing with their heads thrown back. They look so free.

I swallow hard.

“This was a mistake,” I mutter, standing frozen just inside the door.

Seth’s hand brushes my back lightly. “You’re fine. No one’s looking at you.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

He gives me a look. “We’ll hang by the bar. You don’t even have to talk to anyone.”

True to his word, he leads us over and orders a drink. I ask for a soda not alcohol because I need every ounce of clarity I can scrape together.

A tall guy in a crop top nods at Seth and they exchange a quick hello, my nerves do what they do best, spike.

“You know people here?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Seth shrugs. “Some. I’ve been here a few times.”

“Of course you have,” I mutter, then regret it instantly. I sound like a jealous boyfriend.

He raises a brow. “Problem?”

“No. Just… surprised.”

There’s a long pause. The music shifts to something with a faster beat.

I turn to look at the crowd, doing my best to seem unfazed. I catch sight guys are dancing inches apart, hands tangled in each other’s clothes.

I wonder what that’s like.

Seth nudges me. “Relax your shoulders. You look like you’re waiting to get hit.”

“I feel like I am.”

He chuckles. “No one’s going to jump you.”

“I can only hope.”

We sip in silence for a few moments. I catch a guy across the bar staring at me not in a creepy way, just… curious. I immediately look away.

“You’re allowed to look back, you know,” Seth murmurs, his voice just loud enough to cut through the music.

“I wasn’t.”

He says nothing, but I feel him smirking beside me.

It happens maybe forty minutes in. We’re still parked at the bar when I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Alex?”

I turn.

Shit.

It’s Jordan, he is wide-eyed and grinning like he’s just caught me shoplifting. “Didn’t know you swung this way.”

My mouth opens and closes. “I—I don’t.”

Marcus glances at Seth, then back at me. “Sure, man. Just… didn’t expect to see you here.”

He claps my shoulder and walks off, still smiling like he knows something I don’t.

I freeze.

Seth notices. “You good?”

“No. No, I am not good. I’m just wondering who else from class is here and is going to tell everyone.”

Seth sighs. “So what?”

“So what?” I whirl on him. “I have a girlfriend. A life. I can’t have people… people thinking…”

“Thinking what?” Seth’s tone sharpens. “That you’re gay? Bi? Confused? Human?”

I shut my mouth and look down at my trembling hands.

He softens a little. “Look, it’s not a crime to be seen here.”

“To you, maybe,” I whisper. “But people already talk. I can’t give them a reason to talk more.”

Seth looks at me for a long time. Then nods once, like he understands even if he doesn’t agree.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The walk back is quiet.

I keep my head down, heart still racing.

Jordan’s voice echoes in my head. Didn’t know you swung this way.

I don’t. Do I?

Seth doesn’t push. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just walks beside me, hands stuffed in his pockets, footsteps slow and steady and my pace.

When we get inside the apartment, I head straight to the kitchen and grab a glass of water. My throat is tight, my stomach still twisting.

“I shouldn’t have gone,” I mutter.

“No one forced you.”

“I know.”

Seth leans against the doorway. “You okay?”

“No.”

He nods. “Want me to go?”

I glance at him. “No.”

There’s a pause. Then: “I didn’t take you there to mess with you.”

“I know that too.”

He takes a slow step forward. “You looked… kind of sad. Watching everyone.”

“They didn’t seem scared.”

“You don’t have to be either.”

I laugh, bitter. “Easy for you to say. Besides im a straight dude, remember.”

Silence.

I glance up.

Seth meets my eyes, but he doesn’t say more.

I set my glass down, suddenly exhausted.

“Thanks,” I say quietly. “For dragging me there. I guess.”

He smiles a little. “Anytime.”

I head to my room, heart still heavy, but a little less alone.

Behind me, I hear him turn off the kitchen light.

And even though nothing’s really changed, somehow, everything feels different.

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