TW: brief mentions of alcoholism and eating disorders
*
Café Latte is a book about thriving, a book about finding a happy and fulfilling life after difficult periods.
It looks at Tom's life once it started getting really good. So there will be mentions of his struggles, and other people's struggles. But it won't be graphic.
I personally have PTSD, I'm in a wheelchair due to autoimmune disorders, I'm in recovery from an eating disorder, the list is long. I know what it's like to struggle. But I also know what it's like to find happiness in a world that seems so very dark.
I won't sit here and pretend it's all glorious. Some days, I feel like hell. But I can honestly say that it does get easier, and better, and happiness will come to you.
Remember: recovery is not a linear process. All stages of recovery are valid.
And if anyone ever needs someone to talk to, please know my inbox is always open. Please don't suffer alone. I am here for you.
Love, Cam.
Caramel Latte
The day of the benefit arrived swiftly, and I accepted Owen's offer of driving us there so we didn't have to rely on public transport. "So," he said, as I got into the car. "Your boss is going to be there tonight, right?"
I sat in the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt. "What, no kissing? No inappropriate groping before we set off?"
Owen grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "Thought I'd do that just before we went into the hall so you'd have to awkwardly hide that you're hard."
"Impossible to hide in a suit, I'm afraid," I grinned, leaning over to kiss him. "You look hot."
"You, too," he kissed me enthusiastically, biting down on my lower lip, making me shiver. "Ha, I win," he said, nodding at where my dick was waking up. "Seriously though, your boss is going to be there, right?"
"Yes, he is," I replied. "And Cinzia - I think you'll like her." He started up the car and I said, "Are you sure about driving? If you want to drink I'm fine to get the bus."
"Oh, I don't drink," he said, pulling out into the road. "I don't mind if other people do, but I went teetotal a few years ago."
I was surprised; it wasn't often I met someone who never drank alcohol. "Well, I know for a fact they've got some fun mocktails tonight. I think there's a watermelon flavoured one."
Owen beamed. "Awesome. I'm pretty open about not drinking, but I know it raises questions." He carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing it to me. I opened it, looking at the coin with 'three years' etched onto it. "I'm a recovering alcoholic," he told me. "Three years sober."
"Oh, that's awesome," I told him. "Seriously, well done. Three years is loads."
"Thanks," he smiled. "Like I said, I don't mind if other people drink, so don't feel like you have to hold back. I'm pretty secure in my sobriety now that it doesn't affect me."
"Well, I'm good without alcohol," I smiled. "I like it when I'm out, but I wasn't going to drink tonight anyway, as it's my first big work event. I really don't want to embarrass myself by drunk-dancing."
Owen grinned. "Pity, I bet that's very fun to watch."
"Plus, I like being sober for our after-work activities," I teased him, my hand dancing up his thigh. He laughed, shifting in his seat so my hand didn't reach anywhere else. I teased him right up until when we reached the hall, and he laughed. "Now you're going to witness my horrifically bad parallel parking."
"I'll park, if you want," I offered. "I'm good at fitting things in tight spaces."
He looked at me in exasperation. "Tom, I swear, I'll take you to the bathrooms right now if you don't quit it. But yes, please park for me."
Owen got out of the car and I scooted to the driver's seat, neatly parking the car in the spot. I was not good at much when it came to driving, but I was absolutely the person people relied on to park their cars in tiny spaces. He bowed to me as I got out, saying, "I am not worthy of your skills."
"Thank you," I threw the keys at him for him to lock up, and gestured to the door. "Shall we?"
I had seen the venue a few hours ago, when helping to set it up, but I had left before Ian had finalised everything and switched the lighting on. It looked incredible, a rustic-looking venue with a cosy warm glow running throughout it. The fairy lights that were shaped like little lanterns hung from the ceiling and walls, showering the hall in a delicate glow. I could see the marquee outside was full of people, admiring the music being played by the orchestra. The weather had, fortunately, held out for us.
"This is so nice," Owen commented in surprise. "I honestly thought it was going to be stuffy and boring, but this is really pretty!"
Ian popped up from nowhere and said, "Thank you!", making me flinch and exclaim, "IAN!"
Of course, Ian was too busy examining Owen to comment on my frustration, and said, "You must be Owen! I'm Ian, I work with Tom. How are you?"
Owen smiled easily, shaking Ian's hand. "I've heard a lot about you, Ian. Nice to meet you."
"You too!" Ian said, and looked directly at me. "You know, you didn't say he was that pretty."
I looked at him flatly. "I was hoping it would stop the teasing."
Ian spied Barbie and waved her over. I did a double-take; I now truly understood why her nickname was Barbie. Her hair, usually pulled back in a tight ponytail, was loose and perfectly straightened, reaching her elbows. The smoky-eye look she had opted for made her eyes look huge, and she was dressed in a short olive coloured dress and stilettos.
"Whoa," I managed to say. "Barbie, you look phenomenal."
Surprised, Barbie smiled. "Thanks, Tom, you don't clean up so bad yourself. Is that Owen?" she pointed at him with her lengthy acrylic nails.
"It is," Owen grinned. "I may be as gay as they come, but I have to agree with Tom, you look fabulous."
Barbie snorted. "Well, Ken turned out to be very dull, so I'm alone tonight. Can you use your gaydar skills to source me out the men that aren't gay?"
"Was his name actually Ken?" I asked persistently.
"In the meantime," Ian offered his hand, as they both ignored the question. "Dance?"
Barbie took his hand, to my surprise, and they whirled off towards the dance floor together. I was startled by how easily they twirled together; clearly this was not the first time that either of them had danced. I was more impressed by Barbie dancing in her heels, though.
Owen extended his hand to me. "You ready to have your mind blown?"
"I can deal with some mind-blowing," I nodded, and took his hand. He spun me onto the dance floor and began to dance me around expertly. I was surprised at my own skill; I was not a good dancer when it came to ballroom-style dance. Having grown up around a lot of gay people, I was good dancer in general, but ballroom took more skill than grinding on some half-naked dude at Fruits. Owen seemed pretty good though, so I followed his lead.
"I spy your boss," he said, spinning me around so I could see Angelo stood with Cinzia. I smiled and waved, and Angelo nodded back at me, averting his eyes. Cinzia smiled and waved back. I only really caught a glimpse of their outfits, but they both looked outstanding, as I expected them too. "He looks damn good," Owen smirked.
I looked away from Angelo and teased my date. "Got a thing for my boss, have you?"
"Who wouldn't have a thing for that man?" Owen chuckled. "But honestly, I've got more of a thing for you right now. And I think your boss might, too."
I rolled my eyes. "Why do people keep saying that? I know when a guy has a thing for me - case and point, you. Angelo does not have a thing for me."
Owen laughed. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Tom." He looked over my shoulder and frowned. "Uh, I think someone is trying to get your attention."
I looked over my shoulder to see Jasper waving at me enthusiastically. "That's Jasper," I laughed, and spotted Ross behind him, looking oddly irritated. "That's Ross, just behind him."
"You have an exceptionally attractive group of friends, you know," Owen laughed as we swayed together on the dance floor. "Did you say you knew Jasper from uni?"
"School," I replied. "We were both living in London for uni, but different places. Different courses and all."
"I thought you said you'd been living in Brighton for a couple years?" Owen frowned, trying to put the dates together.
I winced; this was not my favourite subject. I hadn't kept the story secret; I hadn't been able to. It certainly wasn't something I shared lightly, however. But Owen had shared his alcoholism so openly, so confidently, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't judge me for anything. "I dropped out," I explained, and then sighed. "It was complicated."
"I get complicated," Owen smiled kindly, and as the song stopped we slowed down and applauded the orchestra. He gestured towards the bar, and we walked over to it. "Start from the beginning," he suggested. "It usually helps with the complicated stories to just lay it out from start to finish."
I ordered two of the watermelon mocktails and reluctantly started. "I... well, my school life wasn't perfect. I had two mothers and the gayest group of people in my life, ever. When I realised I was also gay, I came out, figuring it would be fine. It wasn't. All my friends just kind of... stopped talking to me. It wasn't violent, no one said anything about me, it was just that no one said anything to me either."
Owen frowned. "That sounds horrible."
"It was," I replied. "If it hadn't been for my friends outside of school I would have been miserable. My life turned around when Jasper became my friend, though. He came out, he stuck up for me at school. Even though it suddenly became way harder to just exist at school, I felt better. But I wasn't sure about uni. I went to study art history, because I do really like art, I paint."
Smiling, Owen said, "I'd like to see your paintings sometime."
"It's more on a graphics tablet now," I told him, but felt pleased anyway. "Uni just... it didn't work for me. It was great, being around people that were way more tolerant than people had been at sixth form, but... I had no interest in my classes, and I wasn't good at them, either. I guess I was just not suited for academic stuff. I couldn't wrap my head around the work."
Owen considered what I was saying and said, "I mean, academic stuff really isn't for everyone, but schools force you to think only of that path. I'm glad I never went to uni, because I knew I wouldn't enjoy it the way that others would."
I nodded. "Well, I felt a lot of pressure. Not from my parents, or my friends; if I said I was unhappy at uni, they'd tell me to just quit. But I felt a lot of pressure from myself to do well, to succeed. My friends are all successful people, that seem to have found the thing that truly makes them happy. I thought uni was my path to that."
"So, what happened?" Owen prompted me as the bartender set down two of the most ridiculously elaborate mocktails I had ever seen. "Wow that's bright."
I laughed at the neon liquid in front of me. "Maybe this is how we achieve bioluminescence."
"If I start glowing..." Owen suspiciously took a sip, and made a noise of happiness. "Okay, well it tastes good, even if it does look like a drag queen straight-up exploded into a glass."
I grinned; if Edward was going to be a drink that wasn't a Cosmo, it was this. Owen nodded at me to continue, and it felt easier to talk now that I had started. It wasn't something that I liked to share, but it didn't feel too bad talking about it with Owen. There was such an air of openness around him, it was easy to talk about difficult things.
"My mental health plummeted," I explained. "At first it was things like feeling tired all the time, or sluggish, but I ended up gaining some weight. And... ugh, honestly, the queer scene is shitty when it comes to guys that aren't thin. It wasn't like I gained a ton, but my mind distorted it. I ended up with some bad eating behaviours."
"Ah," Owen nodded, and said, "I can relate to that. When you're an alcoholic, food takes such a backseat in terms of your priorities."
I nodded. "I just remember being in the grocery store, looking at food, and looking up the sugar content of a single nectarine... and I just thought 'what the hell am I doing?'. It was like a wake-up call. I walked right out, gathered the things I needed from my apartment, and went to Jasper's. He helped me speak to a doctor, and get some help."
Owen smiled and said, "Asking for help can be so hard. I'm really glad you had a friend you could go to in that situation. Jasper must mean a lot to you."
"He does," I said, and it felt like a weight lifted from my chest. I felt like I had been holding my breath, not realising I could exhale. "So, yeah. I dropped out, I moved back to my mothers' house, and I just kind of... stayed there. I got stuck. When Harper suggested this job, I thought it was ridiculous, just upping and leaving... but I'm really happy I did it."
When I looked at Owen, he was beaming with pride. He said, "As someone in recovery, I just want to say that you weren't stuck, Tom. You were staying in a place where you could be safe, where you could survive without slipping back into an eating disorder. You did the right thing."
I was really, genuinely surprised. No one had ever told me that I did the right thing to just sit around at home for two years. "I guess I never looked at it that way," I said, and then looked at him in wonder. "You know, you're a very cool person, Owen."
"Thank you," he sounded pleased. "You're a very cool person too, Tom. You should give yourself more credit."
I felt really happy. Owen was so much fun, and he made me feel fun. I had been a down in the last six months before I had moved here, restless and needing to move on. Now, I felt like I was moving on, and he was recognising that struggle as someone who had been through it himself. It felt like I was speaking to someone who really understood. I knew he would only be around for a few more weeks, but I really appreciated that for those weeks, he was choosing to spend some of his time with me. It felt refreshing.
*****
The next morning, at some ungodly hour, my phone rang loudly in my ear. My clothes were strewn everywhere. Momentarily, I forgot where I was and wondered if I had been drinking the night before, but then Owen stirred in the bed next to me and I grinned to myself. Damn, that had been one great night.
My phone persisted. I groaned, answering it in the hope that I could get them to go away. "Who are you and what the hell do you want?"
"Charming," Jasper replied. "Someone not get much sleep last night?"
Jasper's amused voice sounded far too loud in my ears. I glanced across to the other side of the bed where Owen was lying naked, and whispered, "Give me a minute, Owen's asleep, I don't want to wake him up."
"Oh, definitely didn't get much sleep last night, then," Jasper said, and his tone was downright evil levels of smug. "Who tops? Ross and I placed a bet on it. He said Owen but I said he gave off secret bottom vibes."
"Calm down, Edward," I hissed at him, pulling my underwear on and stumbling out into the living room. I knew Raven had already left to meet Harper for breakfast and then go to the aquarium.
"Mean," Jasper replied. "I'm not Edward. I did not even ask for a graphic description of his penis."
"I was so happy sleeping," I groaned, switching the coffee machine on.
Jasper snorted. "Listen, I'm only calling because I have important information about last night. You were super wrapped up in eye-fucking all night, so I decided that I would start to collect the office gossip."
I groaned again. "Jasper, I swear, if you have called me to tell me you dug up some personal shit on my colleagues, I will hurl this phone at the wall."
I put the phone on speaker as Jasper continued to speak, filling a jug with milk so I could make a mocha. "No, I wouldn't do that, that's evil. It's more some observations that I made. So just after we arrived, you and Owen were at the bar drinking that mocktail that looked like it came from Ed's make-up case."
I remembered the conversation we had shared and smiled contentedly. I didn't feel anxious about having shared it; instead, I felt oddly pleased with myself for having shared it. "Yes, and?"
"Well, you looked super into the conversation," Jasper told me, and I blushed, glad he couldn't see it. "But at that point, Ross was saying hi to Angelo, so I went over to meet him. He's very good-looking, I was like 'dayum' in my head. His sister is freaking beautiful too, what the hell is in the water in Italy?"
"Get to the point, Jasper," I yawned, heating up the milk.
"Well, Angelo could not tear his freaking eyes away from you," he replied gleefully. "Like, kept spacing out of the conversation. Anyway, Ross saw someone he knew, so he excused himself, and Angelo mentioned that you'd said that you'd known me for ages. So I told him about school and how much you helped me and stuff."
"Lordy," I interjected. "That story makes me sound a lot cooler than I am."
"Shh, we're getting to the good bit," Jasper complained, and I stopped my commentary. "So Angelo was like 'yeah that sounds exactly like Tom', except it's with that accent, I don't even know what that accent is but damn is it sexy - and I'm all 'yeah, Tom's the best, isn't he?', cause you are. And Angelo goes 'yeah, he is'."
I rolled my eyes. "Is that it?"
"No," Jasper sounded as though he was pouting. "Then his sister comes over and introduces herself, and I'm like 'hey, we're just talking about how awesome Tom is', and she sort of laughs and says 'not again, I'm so sick of hearing about how awesome Tom is'. And Angelo goes like, bright red, and tells her to please shut up."
I was flattered at the thought of Angelo praising me to his sister, but I didn't see what Jasper thought was so fascinating about it. "Angelo talks about all of us to Cinzia," I said patiently to Jasper. "We are kind of his entire life at the moment, he never seems to stop working."
Jasper sounded irritated. "Why are you being so dense about this? You're usually super aware of when a guy likes you, why have you got a blind spot when it comes to Angelo?"
"Jasper," I stretched out, pouring the steamed milk into two cups with some coffee and caramel syrup. "Angelo is very kind to say such nice things about me, but you have all got to stop reading into everything. He's my boss, and even if he wasn't, he is not into me."
I heard a voice call over my shoulder, "He's totally into him!"
"Thank you, Owen!" Jasper replied triumphantly. "See, even the guy who's balls deep in you knows Angelo has a thing for you."
Owen took the caramel latte from me and said, "He's balls deep in me, Jasper, you've got things the wrong way round."
"HA," Jasper cheered, and I heard him shout, "Pay up, bitch!" to Ross.
There was a rustling sound, and Ross' irritated voice said, "Tom, I swear to Lucifer, I'm going to kill you."
*****