When You Know You Know

12

Tuesday's football practice had been extra tough and he was sweating like a pig when he came rushing into his apartment. That didn't mean that he would miss his favorite radio show. The shower could wait. He ran to get a towel at least and stripped out of his clothes, taking a seat in his boxers after he turned on the radio. He had missed the first two minutes but Haz Star was still talking.
"...another great weekend. But let's continue with Waiting for Godot."

Let's. He had been looking forward to this.

"Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo is blind. Lucky burdened as before. Rope as before, but much shorter, so that Pozzo may follow more easily. Lucky wearing a different hat. At the sight of Vladimir and Estragon he stops short. Pozzo, continuing on his way, bumps into him." Haz explained with that deep, raspy voice.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows. Why did that voice make him think of Harry? Weird. And why the fuck was Pozzo blind all of a sudden? What happened? He knew he wouldn't get an answer to that. This play was brilliant. Strange, but brilliant.

Vladimir: Gogo!

Pozzo: (clutching onto Lucky who staggers). What is it? Who is it? Lucky falls, drops everything and brings down Pozzo with him. They lie helpless among the scattered baggage.

Estragon: Is it Godot?

Vladimir: At last! (He goes towards the heap.) Reinforcements at last!

Pozzo: Help!

Estragon: Is it Godot?

Vladimir: We were beginning to weaken. Now we're sure to see the evening out.

Pozzo: Help!

Estragon: Do you hear him?

Vladimir: We are no longer alone, waiting for the night, waiting for Godot, waiting for . . . waiting. All evening we have struggled, unassisted. Now it's over. It's already tomorrow.

Pozzo: Help!

Vladimir: Time flows again already. The sun will set, the moon rise, and we away . . . from here.

Pozzo: Pity!

Vladimir: Poor Pozzo!

Estragon: I knew it was him.

Vladimir: Who?

Estragon: Godot.

Vladimir: But it's not Godot.

Estragon: It's not Godot?

Vladimir: It's not Godot.

Estragon: Then who is it?

Vladimir: It's Pozzo. POZZO.

The radio actor jumped between characters and their different voices but Louis had no problem comprehending, at least who was talking, the dialogue itself was weird, but that was just the play. Before he knew it the show was over for this time.
"And that's all we had time for this evening. The play is soon coming to an end. Next week we're starting on a new one, one that I'm really excited about. It's a modern play by Tony Kushner called Angels in America. It's a whirlwind trip through stories ranging from a man's battle with AIDS to über-Republican Roy Cohn's homophobia and his own realization that he also has the disease, and from the Rosenbergs' legacy to a Mormon couple's struggle with his gayness and her drug addiction." Haz Star said.

Louis's mouth dropped. That was a very bold move. He wasn't sure that everyone would approve of such a controversial story. He, for one, loved it.
"So, until tomorrow, have a lovely evening and remember to treat people with kindness."

He dragged himself to the shower and went to the kitchen afterward to make himself something to eat. His phone rang and he smiled when he saw that it was Harry calling.
"Hi, Harry." He answered.

"Hi, sorry for calling so late. I hope you weren't asleep?" Harry replied.

"It's not that late. No, I'm making myself some food. I'm glad you called." Louis said while he tried to cut a tomato for his grilled sandwich.

"So how was your day?" Harry asked.

"Fine. I closed a deal with a lovely couple. How was yours?" Louis asked.

"Good. I've been thinking about you." Harry said, sounding a little shy.

Louis smiled.
"I just happen to have been thinking about you too."

Harry giggled. He was adorable when he giggled.
"Good. When do you get off work tomorrow?"

"At five." Louis answered.

"Okay, I have to be at work by seven but do you wanna grab some food when you get off work?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely. Where?" Louis replied.

"There's this little place on first street that I hang out a lot called Fransceska's. They have great coffee and great salads." Harry suggested.

Salad? That was Harry's idea of a dinner? He was lucky he liked him.
"Sure. Half-past five?" Louis asked.

"Yeah, I'll probably already be there. You'll find me." Harry answered.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then." Louis smiled.

"Can't wait. Sweet dreams Lou." Harry said softly and hung up.

Lou? If that didn't make the butterflies in his stomach grow to fucking dragons, he didn't know what would. He ate his sandwich and when he brushed his teeth it occurred to him that they never really talked about Harry's job. Like, he didn't actually know what he did for a living. An actor of some sort. Where? What kind of actor? Was he ashamed of his line of work? Oh, God. He wasn't a porn actor, was he? He didn't want to be the judgemental type but the thought of Harry fucking for a living didn't feel right. He decided to ask him about it the next day. He would try to keep an open mind. Maybe Harry loved making pornos, and if that made him happy it shouldn't matter. He was the one who had to work on his jealousy in that case.

He was probably overthinking this. They had only been on two dates for crying out loud. They hadn't even had sex yet and it was way too early to establish if this was turning into something serious, with feelings involved. But he had a good feeling about Harry. He had never met someone like him before, one that he had an instant connection with. It had the potential to turn into something great. He wouldn't blow it over something as silly as a profession. Who you were and what you did for a living were two different things. Satisfied with his decision he fell into a dreamless sleep.