Third beer.

“I don’t know, why don’t you call and ask him?” Jon answered in frustration. He was sick of Wil complaining about the way that Henri had left their last conversation and his empathy was growing short. He could tell by the look on Wil’s face that this wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

What Wil wanted to hear, for the seemingly hundredth time, was that Henri was a jerk and that he was better off without him. But if that were true, as he had told Wil over and over, surely they wouldn’t even be discussing it anymore.

Wil and Henri had broken up three weeks ago at one of Li’s parties. Or maybe it was Alex’s, Jon couldn’t remember, all those desperate art parties were blurring together these days. They had had some huge argument over a photo project that Henri was starring in, nude of course, and it had come to light that the photographer in question was one of Henri’s exes. Jon understood of course, who wanted their boyfriend swanning around naked with an ex in their spare time? But at the same time, it wasn’t as if Wil was some paragon of virtue. He himself had been cheating on Henri with his boss to try and book a show, thinking they had some kind of artistic understanding. How was what Henri was doing any different?

“Don’t.” Wil started testily, finishing the rest of his cheap watered down beer and slamming the glass pointedly onto the bar. He didn’t need this kind of judgemental shit from Jon, who was supposed to be his best friend. He just wanted to have a Friday night drink and talk about how shitty the rest of the world was compared to them. Why did Jon always have to get so serious?


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