"Rhys?" The tank was full, "Calvin, c'mon!"
"Did you see that guy? Oh my god!" said Calvin as he came over, "and he's going to the QueerPaloza, too. I can already see it," he started outing his daydream as he dramatically draped himself over the hood of the car, "the work out he's gonna give these legs, these thighs, these cheeks! ahh," he squealed then switched positions, "why are you looking at me like that? All I'm saying is that gas station man is gonna fu-"
"I got it! Stop! Also... eww, I don't wanna know about all that, dude."
"The one time I talk about getting stretched out like a runner band you turn into a fucking prude," he said as he got off the car, "where the fuck is Rhys? Rhys, some of us are trying to get to the resort and get fu-" he looked at me, "funky...? with strangers they just met! So hurry up, bitch!"
I walked over to the restroom, the door was ajar. "Rhys?" I waited for a response. Nothing. "Rhys, babe, you okay?" I stepped in, the light just above the entrance flickering uncontrollably, I walked over and pushed on the door of each stall. He wasn't here.
"Cal! Did Rhys go into the mini-mart?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know?"
"You were-" I sighed, "nevermind, I'll go check."
I smiled and nodded my head to the guy behind the register, the same one Calvin was talking to, as I entered the mini-mart.
"Rhys?" I called.
"Unless Rhys is some ghost and you're one of those witch type people, you aren't gonna get a response," answered the guy in the place of what should have been my boyfriend, "place is empty."
"You sure?" I asked as I continued walking, looking down all the aisles.
"Pretty sure. So, who's Rhys?"
"My-" I hesitated, the words still have a hard time coming out to strangers, "boyfriend," I finally said.
"Well bro, your boyfriend ain't in here. Maybe I'll see you guys at the party tonight at QueerPaloza?"
"Yeah sure," I answered without thinking as I made my way out the mart. "Calvin, I can't find Rhys!"
"Did that fucking asshole ditch us too?" Calvin said as he was getting out of the car, "wasn't he in the fucking bathroom? This is why you shit before you leave the house. Use one strange bathroom and next thing you know you're selling ass on the corner of Marcelo Avenue."
"I already checked, he's not in the store either. RHYS?! RHYS?!" I shouted. "Maybe he's round back," I thought out loud.
"Oh yeah, the back of gas stations are a good place for catching straying meats," Calvin said laughing, "but, you should go check that out. I don't wanna be having flashbacks."
I jogged to the side of the restroom, the passage to the back was tight as a chainlink fence, that was covered in vines and spider webs only left a two feet space to slip through. It could have been an Olympic sport trying to squeeze thought the almost suffocating space all while avoiding spiders and the flaking paint coming off the restroom's back from falling out and getting into my clothes. After about three minutes I finally made it to the back. It was a small space, stacked with heaps of used gas canisters, old, worn-out rubber mats, rusted rims and oil stains canvassing the whole ground like a modern painting and a faint, yet, distinct smell of gas lingered. "Rhys? You back here?" I stood for a while, waiting. "Rhys, where are you?!" I raised my voice a bit higher, still, all that came back were the distance sounds of car tires kissing the cooling afternoon asphalt and the ticking of the AC from the mini-mart.
