A Peculiar Solace {Hardzello Love Story}

Eight

Being back on Long Island wasn't the absolute torture Joe thought it would be. His brother made room for him at his home, with his wife and kids. Joe hated it at first, not wanting to be a bother or a burden. He didn't want to be babysat, but he knew how it had to be.

He went along with it, wanting it to be as easy as possible for his family. He didn't have much anymore so moving in the spare bedroom was easy enough. He had some clothes and a few DVDs. Books and small collectibles. He had given the rest away, leaving him with just two boxes.

His brother helped him find a job, which was just a starting off point. He had worked in Hollywood and knew some people, but it wasn't worth branching out. He didn't have anything to offer them, not yet at least.

Maybe Carrie Fisher was onto something when she said that whole thing about broken hearts and art. Joe was writing again. This time was different. He didn't know if what he had was a masterpiece but it was at least something people could relate to.

On top of his script, he had begun working on a blog. It killed in a strange way, having a fucking blog. Who the fuck blogged anymore? Maybe he would vlog over time. Video himself in the car, talking about his way. How he was feeling.

It had an impressive following, he had to admit. Who knew so many people felt the same way he did. Not wanting so much to die but just to stop existing for a few moments. Let the world forget they were even there so you could just embrace their own personal peculiar solace.

Writing about his depression made it better. Joe knew there was no magical way to make himself feel better. He wasn't going to wake up one day and forget about everything, go back to being the happy-go-lucky man he once way. But he was getting better. Piece by piece.

It took a lot of hard work and Joe wasn't too sure if it would ever truly pay off but he was good for now. He wasn't surviving but living. Day by day, each day at a time.

He thought of visiting Ben. Of heading back to the facility and visiting him as a person, not a patient but he decided against it. He didn't know where he stood with the man. He had given him the lighter — which sat on his nightstand as a constant reminder to live and keep on living.

He thought about him endlessly and wrote about him in the blog, never by name but rather the person that inspired him to keep on giving even with the pain in his chest and hurting in his head. Ben might not have wanted to be a guardian angel but he was, in one way or another.

Joe had been out for a little over two months when things began picking up. He was invited to do a podcast, to talk about his time at the ward and how living with what he was didn't always have to end the way he originally planned it.

Joe wasn't going to be some spokesman for the pain but bringing up suicidal awareness and the reasoning behind people wanting to do it was something he could get behind. If he could help destroy the stigma around it, then he'd eventually die a happy man.

His family relaxed a little around him, though he was sure the fear would always linger in the back of their mind. The worry that one day he'd just have enough and end it all. And maybe he would. Nobody knew. Joe was fighting and that was all that mattered.

It was on a warm day when his family was out and he was alone for one of the first times since he arrived back home. He had finished another page of his script, a small film he was hoping to send to a friend back in California. Joe still dreamt of directing, but he knew he couldn't do it on his own. He was almost finished. Just a few more things he had to tweak and decide on what he wanted the outcome to be.

Realistic or hopeful.

Or maybe, just maybe, it could be both.

Joe was staring at his typewriter, watching a classic on the tv when he heard the door knock. He hadn't ordered food just yet, so he went to answer it curiously.

Standing before him was the beautiful blond man he had left behind. He wasn't in white, but denim and blue. It made his eyes pop in the most fantastic of ways.

"Oh," Joe muttered, taken back by the sight of him. "Hi."

"You are one hard man to find, Joseph Mazzello. Nassau, New York. Long Island. Seriously?"

Joe shrugged. Long Island wasn't too terrible. It wasn't the city or the valley but it was good enough for now.

"When did you get out?" Joe asked, leaning against the doorway.

"Earlier this week," Ben answered. "Met up with some old friends. Got my things together and what not."

"Oh yeah? That's . . . that's amazing, Ben. I'm happy for you."

The two stood there silently, just feet apart. Ben shifted from one leg to another. "Did I come at a bad time?" He asked, peering into the home.

Joe realized the poor man probably thought he was with somebody. Had someone else in the home that he didn't want Ben to see.

"I'm alone," Joe told him. "For the first time in a long time."

"Ah. Progress."

"Do you want to come in?"

Ben shrugged lazily. "Came all this way," He confessed.

Joe laughed softly, moving to step aside so Ben could enter. He kept it casual until he was inside the home and the door was closed behind him. After that, he pressed the blond against the door and kissed him deeply, holding onto him as if he was going to disappear in a matter of moments.

"Took you long enough," He breathed when they pulled apart.

Kissing him was like coming up for air after diving into a deep pool. Refreshing and relieving. Joe had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

"Oh shut the fuck up," Ben muttered, kissing him again. And then again and again. "Does your brother have any coconut oil by chance?"

"Oh my god, I think I actually hate you," Joe muttered, shoving Ben down the hallway towards his bedroom.

"Oy! Is that Singin in the Rain?" Ben called out, turning his head towards the tv in the living room. Joe just kept on pushing him until they were in the privacy of his bedroom, musical forgotten and left playing in the background.

It was nice to have him home, especially when it finally felt like home.