Pure Chance

Chapter Eight: The Persistence of Emptiness

2006-08-29T20:20:00.000+10:00

Talan watched from the mezzanine level as Chance spun around and headed to the back of the crowd where the waiters and waitresses stood with champagne at hand. He grabbed one from a tray held out to him, drank it quickly and took another. Talan's heart twisted at the sight. His friend must be more confused than ever now. He was almost as confused himself; the announcement of his engagement to Cassandra was news to him too. He felt sick that his mother would arrange something like this without consulting him. It was just like her to think she could decide what was important for him. Something close to anger boiled inside him, yet he knew he couldn't take it out on anyone. If he asked his mother why she did this, she would tell him it was for his own good. He couldn't react badly in front of so many important people when his father's career was on the line. Collecting his thoughts he turned to his mother, smiling at her when she looked at him during a pause in her speech about making themselves more available to the media as the state election drew nearer. That was all it seemed to be about; his father's career. His own happiness didn't matter. They would continue to act their parts for the audience, plotting the best move to promote his father to the senate. Take a bow, life was a play, the world was a stage. He wanted to laugh.

When his mother finished speaking, it was almost time for his father to make his presentation. Cassandra took his arm in hers and they walked off to a private waiting room with his mother while his father prepared for the main event. She glanced at him occasionally as they walked in silence. Even his mother didn't speak. They seemed to sense he wasn't in complete agreement with the stunt they had just pulled.

In the waiting room, Talan poured himself a glass of water from a jug and sat down waiting for the explanations to begin. He didn't have to wait long. Cassandra knelt in front of him and looked up at him with pleading eyes. It occurred to him that he didn't know this woman as well as he thought. In fact, he didn't know her that well at all. For as long as he'd known her, she never shared with him her deepest fears, her most fervent wishes or her darkest secrets. God knows, everyone has to have at least one of those. But this woman before him had none that he knew of. He himself feared he would fail as a lawyer, wished to one day make a difference in this world and harboured a few secrets that were well known to his girlfriend. Cassandra knew all those things about him, he shared them with her as people who cared for each other do.

"Talan," she said softly, "There's nothing in this world that I want more than to be your wife."

"It would have been nice to have been part of the decision," Talan said evenly. He intended to stay calm despite his growing agitation.

"If the dear girl waited for you to pop the question, she would be waiting until she was old and grey," his mother said revealing her involvement. He shot her a scathing glare, causing her to look away. He'd put up with as much of her meddling as he could up until now, this latest fiasco was the last straw.

"I really thought this was what you wanted too," Cassandra told him.

"I can understand why my mother would do something like this, she has my best interests at heart. What I don't understand is why you would go along with it," Talan said, then paused for emphasis on his next words, "Whose interests do you have at heart?"

He must have stunned Cassandra because she fell silent all of a sudden. Her face flitted with an array of emotions, from guilt to shame then quickly to anger. Her nostrils flared and a determined expression formed. Hearing a door close, he looked towards it but saw no one there. Surveying the room he found he was alone with Cassandra. His mother must have left to give them privacy when she realised the conversation was getting serious.

With some heat in her voice, Cassandra raised her own question in return, "Is it so much to ask to want a bit of happiness?"

"It is if it's only your own," he said simply.

Hurt by his calm truthful logic she spoke with a rising tone, "I did this for us! I wanted us to be happy! I'm not being selfish so don't you dare insinuate that I am!"

Talan didn't want the situation to escalate out of control, but he felt that Cassandra was bent on a destructive outcome no matter what he said. He could only try and minimise the damage. He said carefully, "Getting married is a big deal, I only feel that if we are to do so, then we do it as a mutual decision, and preferably with a proposal first."

"A proposal?" she nearly screamed at him, "Did you think I was going to wait around for one?"

"Well, you could have proposed to me," he joked lightly. Big mistake. Humour was not going to go down well right now.

"I have needs too you know, even if you don't. I wanted to make love to you but I knew that would only happen once we were married," she said with a bit more self-possession. "Arranging this marriage was the only thing I could do to make you see how much I wanted to marry you, to be one with you."

"You've made your point then," he said. He was almost going to accuse her of making this argument about her lack of a sex life, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. He had his reasons for being sexually abstinent, and that reason was to stay a virgin until he fell in love. Not until after he was married as Cassandra wrongly believed.

"So what will your answer be?" she asked, "Will we get married?"

"You already know the answer to that," he said almost too quietly.

"Then I guess there's no reason to keep this relationship stagnant," Cassandra said with finality and a hint of resentment.

"No, I guess not," he said sadly.

Cassandra collected herself with an air of dignity, at the door she turned to him, she said, "I don't know what it is you're looking for but I know that you were never going to find it with me."

He gave her a quick smile. She didn't know him as well as she thought she did. He was loathe to tell her that she was wrong, that what he was looking for was a kindred spirit to share their innermost selves with each other - something Cassandra couldn't do, being the repressed person she was. Instead he said, "When you find the man who loves you as much as you do him, it won't be like us, it will be better, and you deserve that."

She bit her bottom lip, looked at him for a moment and then said before she left, "Goodbye Talan."

When she was gone, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Surprisingly, he didn't feel upset at all. What he did feel was a deep weariness in his bones, but mostly, he was just saddened by the break-up with Cassandra. He always knew it was likely that their relationship would end sooner or later. He never expected that it would be so soon. Perhaps he was deluding himself by clinging to the hope that something would change for the better.

There was still the matter with Chance. He'd just lost one person he cared about, he wasn't prepared to lose another. After seeing the shock on his friend's face earlier, he knew he'd done the wrong thing to keep his true identity from Chance. He was used to hiding any connection with his father's fame that it became second nature to him. How was he ever going to rectify the situation? At the moment nothing he could think of was going to fix his deceitfulness. Perhaps it was better for him not to think about it right now. No point in worrying over something he had no control over. But that wasn't entirely true. He had several choices. He could talk to Chance, but the memory of hurting his friend was still all too recent. The best choice he had was to give Chance some time and space.

The door opened and he heard his mother ask, "Are you alright son?"

Talan sighed, opened his eyes and looked at her. He said, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You certainly don't look it," she said concerned.

"I'm fine, really," he tried to reassure her. "Couldn't be better."

His mother didn't say anything for a moment, then, "I saw Cassandra as she left, she didn't look too happy."

"She'll be happier now that I'm out of her hair," he said.

"My boy, why on earth would you feel like you were a burden on her?" his mother asked in her cultured speech.

"Because we were two different people," Talan explained, as much to himself as to his mother, "Because I don't belong in her world, just like I never did in your's. You know I have never liked that fancy, pretentious, - and no offence to you mum -"

"None taken."

"- Lavish lifestyle that you enjoy, and I never will; I prefer the simpler things. They bring me more joy. But Cassandra prefers the finer things in life, she would think a picnic was an invitation for ant bites, I mean what would you think if Dad wanted to take you out for a picnic?"

"I would ask him why he couldn't book a reservation at any one of the lovely restaurants in Sydney," she said.

"You see, that's my point, that's exactly what she would think," Talan said. "We weren't right for each other, I just never wanted to see that."

"I never knew how hard it was for you," she said to him in a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. Not since over a decade ago when their luck had changed, before she had more money than she knew how to spend. In that gentle motherly voice, free from cultivated refinement, she continued, "The only thing I have ever wanted for you was to see you happy, and I guess I must have pushed you too much in order to make that happen. I don't know if there is anything more I can do to give you the kind of happiness your father and I have.

"I have all the money in the world, but there's nothing I can buy you, and now that I think about it, it would be better for me to let you find your own happiness, in your own time and in your own way."

Talan almost felt his eyes welling up with tears. A glimmer of his mother's old self had emerged. It meant a lot to hear his mother finally speak from the heart.

He said, "Thanks mum, that's all I've ever wanted from you, your blessing to choose my own path to happiness."

"I don't know how you put up with me, will you forgive your fool-headed mother for meddling in your life for so long?" she said, genuinely apologetic.

Smiling at her, he said, "You know I will."

"I'm so proud of the man you've become," she said. "I only wish I was there for you more often when you were growing up."

"The past is gone, water under the bridge," he said. "I don't resent you for anything."

She smiled at him then, as if something she thought of had given rise to it. She said, "I have a feeling that whoever you end up with, she's going to be one lucky girl."

"Until then how am I going to tell dad I won't be getting married anymore?" Talan asked.

"Don't worry about that," his mother said, "I'll handle it, but I do think he'll be disappointed that he won't be going to England anytime soon, he was really looking forward to a trip there."

They continued to chat for a while, speaking of inconsequential things, like two good friends rather than a distant mother and son. Talan couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a great conversation with his mother. He felt the distance between them bridging a gap that he never imagined could be crossed again.

When the end came, he was reluctant to give up their newly found kinship. He knew they would have many more opportunities to share these kinds of moments again, and so he let her continue her duties next to his father, her husband.

He had nothing else to do for the rest of the night, so he considered finding Chance to see where he stood with his friend. If they were still friends that was.

In the function room, things were winding down, but there were still a lot of people crowded into the area. He couldn't find Chance amongst the multitude of reporters and important people. It was likely that he'd already left. Feeling disheartened Talan decided to leave.

At the front of town hall he spied Chance ready to board a taxi. He called out to his friend. Chance looked around to see who had called his name. Talan registered the wounded look his friend gave him. Noted the uncertainty in those deep brown eyes. Then watched with misery as Chance hopped into the taxi without a second look back at him.

Talan deserved every moment of that agonising exchange. This desolation was his own making. If he lost this good man it was all his fault and he would have no one else to blame. He should simply accept the fact that there was no hope of conciliation.

Why then, did he feel cut-up about it? Why did he feel a fear greater than any he'd ever known at the prospect of losing Chance? Because, a voice in his head responded, he's the best friend you ever had and you messed that up like every other relationship you've ever had? He wasn't prone to internal monologues, but he wasn't going to disagree.

Yet he couldn't help thinking there was something more to his feelings of loss. The voice in his head was silent. He was on his own. Did he think there could be something more to their friendship when he kissed his friend? His cheeks burned with the memory, even so he forced himself to deal with it. Was he actually attracted to men? He knew he wasn't, he never was, it couldn't be so. The possibility that he could be gay was preposterous. Talan trusted his sound judgement and this was one area he was absolutely sure about; men did not turn him on. To test this theory, he surveyed the area for good looking men, of which there were several, and he tried to scrutinise them as he would with a female that had caught his attention. Nothing. He didn't feel the slightest bit of arousal.

He was actually relieved at this. If he'd felt even the smallest bit of attraction to another man, he would have seriously needed to reconsider what he knew about himself. If he was suffering from a sexual identity crisis, what else did he not know about what went on in his head?

One of the men he was looking at caught Talan eyeing him and the stranger winked at him provocatively. He quickly looked away and hurried off to where his motorbike was parked. Funnily enough, this wasn't the first time he'd been winked at by another guy.

Feeling hungry he decided to have dinner at his local café around the corner from his apartment. When he was too tired to cook for himself he would often go there and pay to feed himself rather than make something. Besides, more often than not he would lose his appetite after going through all the effort of putting a meal together. Cooking was only something he enjoyed when he could do it for other people as well. Now that he'd broken up with Cassandra, he had a feeling that his local café would be gaining a regular customer.

After dinner he was waiting by the elevators of his apartment building which would take him to the fifteenth floor where he lived when he sensed he was being watched. The uncanny feeling sent chills running down his spine. Looking around he already knew that he would be alone and he was right. The building's lobby was empty when he arrived and no one had entered during the time he waited for the elevator. Outside the darkness was cast away by the street-lamps and business signs, yet watching that scene through the glass doors he was aware of how many places someone could hide in the shadows. From what he could see anyway, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

The elevator arrived with a 'bing', the up arrow brightened yellow and the doors slid open. Shaking off the eerie sensation of eyes on his back, he stepped through into the lift. Pressing the button for the fifteenth floor he scolded himself for stupidly thinking he was being observed. He was twenty-seven and already he was going senile.

Glancing up to check what floors he'd progressed through he saw the number eight wink out with number nine illuminated straight after. Then abruptly the lights inside the elevator went out, and the lift came to a sudden jarring stop. Talan braced himself against the back wall to keep himself from falling.

He was in total darkness now. If there was a power failure or blackout the backup generators should be coming on soon. There was no need to worry, everything would be alright. Once the generators were up, the emergency lights should come on and he wouldn't be blind in the dark. Although he would still be stuck until either he was rescued or the power came back on.

In the dark he waited. He was a patient person, he knew he would get out eventually. As the minutes passed by, it seemed more and more likely that the backup generators weren't going to kick in. Worry crept up on him, it settled at the edge of his thoughts, biding it's time until it could turn into fully fledged panic.

Then he remembered that he had his mobile phone with him. He felt foolish for forgetting he had it in his pocket. Taking the phone out, Talan held it in his hands before flipping it open, hoping there would be at least one bar representing the strength of reception. He took a deep breath, opened the phone to reveal the screen and his heart sank at what he saw. All the reception bars were gone and 'No access' replaced the usual name of the network provider on the screen.

At least the luminescence from the screen provided some lighting in the small dark space. The batteries would probably go flat if he continued to use the mobile phone to light up the elevator. He didn't really care, at least it would serve some kind of function.

He started to pace back and forth, staring at the bright phone screen. Suddenly a reception bar appeared on the screen as he neared a corner of the elevator. Hope flared up inside him. As he went closer to the corner another bar appeared and the name of his network provider replaced the 'No access' message. Triumphant, he scrolled through his phone numbers until he found the one for his building's security, all the while keeping the phone in the same position so he wouldn't lose any reception.

"High Point Building security, Chris speaking, how can I help you?" a pleasant voice said.

"Chris, Hi, this is Talan Kedron from apartment fifteen-oh-seven," he said in a casual manner. Chris wouldn't have guessed there was anything wrong from the way he was speaking. "There seems to be a blackout in the building mate and I might need your help."

"Yeah, I just got a call from another resident about that, which is funny because the power is still on in every other building around High Point," Chris said amused. "So how can I help you?"

"I'm kind of stuck in the elevator," Talan said.

"Are you okay? What floor are you stuck at?" the security guard asked concerned.

"I'm stuck around the ninth floor and I'm alright, it's just dark in here that's all, can't see anything without the light coming from my mobile phone screen," he said.

"Count your lucky stars that it's working in there," Chris said, "But it shouldn't be dark, the backup lights should have come on with the generators."

"That's what I thought, but they're not on," he said.

"Hmm, how odd, if the backup lights aren't on, then something must be wrong with the generators," Chris mused. "Those things are checked and tested regularly, I don't know what could have happened to them."

"Yeah, that is weird," Talan said patiently.

"Sorry Mr Kedron, went on a tangent there for a moment," Chris said. "I'll get some other guys and we'll come and help you straight away, you just hang tight."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," he said.

Chris laughed, apologised to Talan again and hung up.

Moments afterwards he was pitched into darkness again as his mobile phone went into power-save mode. Thoughts of tragic outcomes came to him unbidden. The elevator could crash down nine levels through to the basement level for some reason, swiftly ending his life. Or something could go wrong during the rescue, or maybe . . . no, he refused to believe that he would die tonight. It was useless to allow such futile fears to overcome him. Still, they remained in the back of his mind, and although he couldn't see anything he began to feel slightly claustrophobic.

Loud noises above him roused his attention to the roof and he heard muffled voices. Then he heard Chris yell out to him. Talan could barely make out what he was saying. Chris was telling him that he was stuck between level nine and ten, that it would be too dangerous to try and get him out right now, and that they were getting someone in to fix the electric switchboard which may take a couple of hours. He shouted to them that he understood and would wait for them to fix the problem.

His night couldn't get any better; getting stuck in the elevator for an hour or two wasn't how he was expecting to spend the night. Life was full of surprises.

He sat down in the corner of the elevator where he could get reception in case someone decided to call him. In truth, no one probably would at this time of the night. He had few friends and those he did have rarely contacted him. Cassandra and his parents had taken up most of his time. Now she was gone and although he visited his parents several times a week, they were typically short visits. It occurred to him how empty his life really was. The silence within the empty black space around him accentuated his loneliness. Talan put his head in his hands and struggled to hold back the tears he felt coming, because he knew that if they did, all his bottled up feelings of isolation and remoteness would erupt like a geyser. But the tears did come, along with the sadness of his lonely life. He wept it all out, in great wracking sobs that burned his chest. The tears slid down his cheeks like a running tap. The hardest thing of all was the bitterness he felt. He knew he was better than that, he just couldn't help the despairing agony of having chosen to keep people at bay all his life.

When he recovered from his tearful session, he was left feeling physically, emotionally and mentally drained. He couldn't help thinking of Chance and how richer his life had been since they had met. A friendship like that was worth holding on to, no matter what happens between them. Talan was willing to do whatever it took to make it work.

An idea came to him all of a sudden. He checked the time on his phone. It was almost ten-thirty. Thinking about it his mood began to lift. If this worked he would be over the moon, and being stuck in the elevator would become completely tolerable. He had to be quick though.

Luckily he'd stored the number in his phone and he scrolled to it with anticipation. Placing the call he put the mobile phone against his ear listening to the sound of a ringing tone.

Not long after a female voice answered, "KPS FM, Jessica speaking, how can I help you?"

He expected Jessica would be taking the call. He said, "Yes, hi Jessica, I was wondering if Dr Day could help me with a problem."

"Is your problem serious?" Jessica asked. He figured there would be a screening process. "We have a lot of callers each night and generally we try to help those with more severe problems first."

"Yes, it is a serious problem, the fate of my friendship with someone may depend on it," he said gravely.

"Okay then, I'll have to fit you in last though," Jessica said. "I'll need you to give me some of your details."

Talan smiled. There was still hope yet.

Chapter Seven: Revelations

2006-07-01T18:53:00.000+10:00

It was Monday morning and Chance was up early as usual. Showered and dressed, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked the same as always; chocolate brown eyes, clean texturised short black hair, sideburns and goatee trimmed to the number six setting on his Wahl personal trimmer, while the remaining facial hair was trimmed at number two. Using a disposable Schick razor he usually shaved the excess growth that extended below his jaw and the area on his cheek. He was quite proud with how immaculate he kept his facial hair. On other men it was quite a turn on for him. Facial hair and hair in all the right places on a man was really sexy. Unless the man had an extreme case of body hair overgrowth and back hair. Personal grooming existed for a reason. There were limits to the sexiness of hairy men. He shuddered when an image of the typical Aussie labourer in a singlet - hair exposed on the back and shoulders - came to his mind. Not that all Aussie labourers looked like that, but he'd been across enough construction sites to learn to keep his eyes forward.

Exiting the en suite bathroom he glanced at the phone where it sat upon its dock on his desk across the room. Some time after receiving the alarming phone call the day before, Chance had felt a rage like never before in his life. Someone, a man, was in his house watching him. His privacy had been invaded. When Jon had come home Chance had asked whether he was sure he had placed the letter on the hallway table. Jon was certain. There was no denying that an intruder had been in his house. His fear had changed into anger when he thought about the sick twisted bastard walking through his home, defiling everything with their touch. If complete household sterilisation was possible, Chance would not have hesitated to perform it. The bastard so far had twice attempted to frighten him with promises of vengeance. What kind of freak leaves those kinds of messages without revealing their presence. A coward. That's what. The freak could at least tell him what he'd done to deserve those ambiguous threats.

He had considered going to the police, but there was no proof his house had been broken into. Even as recorded evidence, the phone call was too weird to be construed as menacing given the message about sleeping in and pokers. Only he knew the significance of that message. The meanings of the notes were also unclear, they wouldn't be taken seriously. It wasn't that he didn't have any faith in the police, he was just not able to see how they could help him short of placing his house under surveillance and providing him with a security detail twenty-four-seven. Hell would be snowing before that ever happened. How much help would the cops be able to provide when he couldn't even figure out the meaning of it all himself. He decided to wait a few more days before he went to the police. He didn't want to dismiss everything that had happened as mere pranks. They would wonder why he didn't report the incidents to them earlier. Although, if he received one more note he would immediately report it. Three notes should be enough evidence that he was being stalked at the very least.

Chance was about to head out of his room to get some breakfast when the ringing of the phone stopped him in his tracks. The tune signified it was from his workplace, Radio KPS FM. Jon wouldn't pick it up knowing Chance was up and about.

Answering the phone, he said, "Hello, Chance speaking."

"Chance, it's Jeff," his boss said. "How are you mate?"

"I'm doing really well thanks Jeff, and you?" Chance asked.

Jeff replied, "Can't complain. Listen, I hate to do this to you but I need you to fill in for a reporter later this afternoon. I've had staff going on leave left, right and centre and all my backups are tied up on other jobs, you're my last hope mate."

With a bit of sarcasm Chance said, "Wow, I'm really flattered I was the first one you could think of."

"Beggars can't be choosers when you're scraping the bottom of the barrel."

"I'm amazed you were able to put two cliché's in one sentence."

"Mate, I'm practically a walking cliché. So will you be able to do a bit of reporting for me tonight? You know you'll get paid for it anyway, but I'm hoping you'll say yes."

"It's times like these when I can say my Journalism degree isn't so useless." Chance took a deep breath, he said, "Yeah okay boss, I'll do it, but you know I've got to be back at the station early to get ready for my show?"

"Good man, I knew I could count on you," Jeff said, "And I would expect your show to be your top priority, no matter what I ask you to do."

"Too right, otherwise I would have flatly refused your expedient demand," Chance said.

"That's my boy, radio airtime comes first," Jeff said. "Oh, and I'll need you to come in before three this afternoon so I can brief you on the event to report."

"I'll be there at two," he promised.

"Bring a suit or a tux to wear for the occasion," his boss suggested.

"It's going to be a formal event?" Chance asked curiously.

"I'll tell you when you get here mate, but I'll see you then." They said goodbye and hung up.

The smell of eggs and toast pervaded the air inside the kitchen. It looked like Jon was making cheesy scrambled eggs.

Leaning over Jon's shoulder and peering down at the frying pan, Chance said, "Where's the bacon?"

"In the packaged meat section at the supermarket." Jon concentrated on the cooking like it was a complex task. He always put a lot of thought and effort into whatever he did.

"Careful not to overcook the eggs mate," Chance goaded.

His friend poked him in the ribs with an elbow. Jon joked, "Next time it'll be a knee in the balls. What did work call you for?"

"I have to go in early then report on some event this afternoon." He grabbed some bread and placed it in the four-slice toaster.

"Sounds exciting," Jon said preoccupied.

"It's something different."

"Butter those when you're done."

"Yes master, I wouldn't have thought to do that."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"What would I do without you."

"Still sucking on your thumb I believe, and you know what?"

"I can guess."

"You've graduated to sucking on bigger things now."

"You're so charming, do you want me to tell you about that?"

"Only if you want vomit with your eggs."

"Some other time then."

"How about never."

Chance chuckled. When breakfast was finished, Jon left for work and Chance was alone again. Loathe to be his own company, he decided to go into the city and shop for a suit to wear at the event he would be reporting.

When he arrived at work a little before two, he was feeling full of energy on account of the therapeutic shopping. In his office he hung the suit bag containing his new outfit on the coat rack by the door. Sitting at his desk, he was halfway through checking his emails when the boss poked his head through the door.

"There you are mate, good to see I can always depend on someone when I need it," Jeff said. "You're not busy are you?"

"Never too busy for you boss," Chance said without making it sound like he was ass-kissing.

"You always have the right response for everything," Jeff said as he came into the office and sat down on the couch.

Not exactly everything, he thought to himself, but dismissed it as quickly as it came to mind.

"So about this event tonight?" he asked.

Jeff bounced up and down the couch slightly, wiggled around a bit, while looking up at nothing and making a face as if trying to squeeze out a fart, then finally said, "This couch is pretty comfy, I should get one for my office."

"I can give you the details of where I bought it if you want," Chance offered.

"Maybe later," his boss said, "But first, about this event - It's going to be big; everyone who is anyone will be there, so will all of Sydney's known media, which is why it is imperative that we have it covered."

Chance nodded, leaning forward to provide his full attention.

Jeff continued, "It's a publicity event at the town hall organised by one of Australia's richest men, and he's got his eyes on a parliamentary seat. He only just went in the running for a position as an independent. You've probably heard of him . . . ?"

"Jacob, yeah, I've heard of him," he said, then sarcastically, "Just what we need - another right-wing independent senator."

"You can leave your disdain in this office, you'll be representing our station, and I won't have you tarnishing our good name," Jeff reprimanded.

"You know I'll be completely professional boss," he reassured.

"I know, I just want you to know how important this is, if Jacob is elected to the senate, he'll be more powerful than he is now, and we don't want to get on the bad side of someone like that," Jeff explained.

He agreed, "Definitely not. I understand the implications."

Jeff scrutinised him, searching for some sincerity in Chance's face, he must have found it because he said, "Good, I don't like to sound harsh on this matter but I do trust that you'll handle things expertly."

He gave his boss his best smile, he didn't want to imagine what Jeff would do to him if he stuffed everything up. While Jeff was a good man, he had no desire to be on the receiving end of the station manager's anger.

"Just one question though?" he asked.

"Shoot," Jeff said.

"These events are usually aimed at creating publicity and winning peoples votes," he began, "What angle is he going to be using to do this?"

"The one that tugs at people's heartstrings," Jeff said. "He has donated half a million dollars to the Sydney Children's Hospital and recently founded a charity organisation to raise funds for cancer research. Then again, it's all pocket change for Jacob."

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Sounds like he really wants a seat in the senate."

"You're telling me." Jeff raised a butt-cheek off the couch and actually did squeeze a fart out this time.

Chance tried to stifle a laugh and look disapproving, but a giggle escaped him anyway. He commented, "Charming."

"Better out than in, I always say. I've also told Jessica to arrange a taxi for you at four," Jeff rose from the couch and waved a hand back and forth across his nose to demonstrate the potency of the gas he'd recently expelled. At the door he said, "I'll just leave this door open for you mate."

Chance covered his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, even before he could get a whiff of the fart, and said nasally, "Please."

A vision of himself twitching comically as he suffocated from Jeff's noxious gases played in his head and he ran out of the room before it could come true. He skidded to a halt before he could crash into the office across from his own.

There was still a couple of hours before the event started. He decided to collect the recording equipment he would need to perform his duties from the store room and when that was done, a sufficient amount of time should have passed to make it safe for him to return to his office. No stench strong enough to kill any living creature greeted him in his office. Thankful, he sat down and made the necessary preparations, which mostly involved researching the people on the guest list and brainstorming questions for the inevitable questions and answers session.

When four o'clock neared he got up from his desk and locked his office door for some privacy while he changed into his newly acquired suit. Satisfied with his presentability he gathered the recording equipment and headed outside to the front of the building to wait for the taxi. On his way out he passed Jessica. She wished him luck, complimented him on his new suit and ogled him like a piece of eye candy.

The taxi arrived on time, which was fortunate, considering the amount of traffic at that time of day. Sydney's town hall wasn't too far, yet in the taxi it took close to half an hour to reach. He filled in the cab-charge chequebook, gave it to the driver and thanked him.

At the front doors, Chance registered his arrival. He was given a pre-prepared media pass with his details and photograph on it and which was attached to a lanyard. He set up his recording equipment on a large lectern that was placed on a stage. There were already a lot of microphones belonging to other media crammed in around the top edges so he squeezed his in where it would fit.

Standing up, he had a good view of the expansive function room of the town hall. Rows of seats were lined up in three sections in front of the stage split up by two aisles. He couldn't say for sure how many there were, but it looked close to a few hundred. Even then there was still plenty of space on the sides and around the back for any camera crew. The stage was set up with a couple of long trestle tables positioned a bit over a metre back and on both sides of the lectern. The backdrop of the stage featured a large screen for a projector, hung in front of a burgundy velvet curtain. Floral arrangements sat on cocktail tables along the walls of the room and white silk bunting hung down from the centre of the roof to the top edge of the halls perimeter. There was another room he had yet to see, where guests would mingle and which no doubt looked similarly decorated.

Walking off the stage and down the stairs he sighed heavily. He was not looking forward to the next few hours of trivial socialisation with the upper class.

"Oh my, are you Dr. Day?" A female voice called from the large wooden entry doors.

Chance groaned inwardly, but brought forth a broad smile as a woman in a flowing green gown made her way towards him with graceful flair. She appeared in her middle years but may have been older, it was hard to tell under all the make-up. It looked like she was no stranger to plastic surgery and face-lifts either.

"Yes, indeed," he said in a groomed voice, "And who may I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Please, you may call me Marlene," the woman said casually, "I feel like I know you so well after listening to so many of your shows."

"I'm flattered," he said, the blush that reddened his cheeks was genuine. "What I do isn't that special."

"Nonsense, don't be so modest," Marlene said, "You are a source of hope to all the people down on their luck and an inspiration and role-model for those who dream of becoming psychologists."

Chance's red cheeks deepened in colour and Marlene laughed in delight. He said, "Really, you do flatter me too much. But I thank you for your compliments."

Marlene rubbed the side of his arm in a friendly manner, she said, "You're welcome, pre-event cocktails will be served soon, I would like to have a drink with you before everything begins."

"I look forward to it," Chance said.

"Good, I'll speak with you again soon." With that, she hurried towards the back of the room and disappeared behind a well concealed door.

After the exchange, he was left wondering who the charismatic woman was, their conversation was too brief for him to ask many questions, but Marlene was obviously someone very important going by her confident manner, expensive attire and first name basis with the would-be-senator. He decided to ask her when they had a drink together.

Orchestral music flowed from the adjacent entertainment room, and as Chance entered, he was surprised at how many people there were. Hundreds of smartly dressed individuals filled the room, chatting, laughing, and drinking. Waiters and waitresses weaved through the crowd bearing champagne and cocktail glasses filled with their respective alcoholic beverages.

Chance wanted to fly under the radar, stay low and avoid any attention. Yet there seemed no likelihood of such a thing happening, which became apparent after no more than a few minutes of being in the room. A surprising number of people recognised him and those who didn't discovered who he was from the name printed on his media pass. For over half an hour he traded pleasantries and light humour with the rich, the famous and the powerful.

He noticed Marlene saunter towards him while speaking with the Mayor of Sydney. She carried two glasses of champagne and handed one to him. She raised her glass in preparation for a toast.

"This night may be reserved for my husband, Jacob, but I would like to toast Dr. Day for his invaluable contribution towards decent radio," she said.

So that was who she was; wife of the man running for an independent seat in the senate. He was glad he didn't make a fool of himself earlier.

"Here, here," the Lord Mayor said.

They toasted and he politely sipped his champagne.

"Your husband is a generous person to donate so much money for a great cause," Chance said to Marlene.

"He is, isn't he," she said proudly, "He even came up with the idea himself, usually I have to twist his arm to get him to do anything at all."

They laughed at that. Chance wished he was elsewhere. This wasn't his world, he was used to being around people who swore around him, or farted around him, people who were just themselves and not self conscious. He didn't dislike these people, they were decent enough, just not the kind he would associate with on a regular basis.

"I hear your husband wanted your son to become the new CEO of his company," the Lord Mayor said to Marlene.

"Oh, yes, but that depends on whether my son wants the position," Marlene said, "I know his heart lies elsewhere, but I think Talan would make a fine CEO."

Chance almost fell over when he heard Marlene say this. A wary apprehension fell over his shoulders and he was almost too afraid to ask. With a slight quiver in his voice he said, "Your son Talan?"

"Yes Dr. Day?" she said.

"Is he . . ." Chance swallowed a lump in his throat. "Is he a lawyer?"

"Yes, he is in fact," Marlene said smiling.

"For legal aid?" he pressed.

"Yes," she replied, then asked, "Do you know of him?"

"I, uhm," he stammered, "I've met him."

"Yes, that's right, there was the tragic incident with that bike of his, I hope you don't hold that against him, I completely forgot that had happened." She turned to the Mayer saying, "I have tried to get him to drive a car like everyone else but he . . ."

Her words drowned out as the news hit him. Talan. Talan Kedron. Son of one the richest men in Australia. He was shocked, but surprisingly not angry. It seemed to make sense now. He remembered the occasional mention of Talan in several newspaper articles done on Jacob, but he never put the two together. While Jacob didn't shy away from media attention, his family and private life was always that - private, therefore there wasn't much information about his wife and son. He couldn't understand why Talan would keep this knowledge from him. It was pretty big news anyway, even though he wouldn't have thought any different of the man.

"Dr. Day," Marlene said, "Are you alright? You don't look well."

Chance smiled. He said, "I'm fine, thank you."

"Well, I have to be off, my husband is about to make an announcement and I am supposed to be by his side when he does. It's been a pleasure." She left, seeming to glide as she walked across the room and up some grand stairs to a mezzanine level overlooking the room.

"Why don't we go see what this is all about," the Lord Mayor said to him.

He nodded and as they walked to the space directly below the overlook that reminded him of the balcony which the Pope would make his speeches to the masses, people would part to make way for them.

Jacob Kedron appeared with his wife in hand. Marlene looked like a queen up there, prim and proper.

The room quietened as Jacob surveyed the crowd. Had any camera equipment been allowed into the room, there would have been camera flashes to rival a lightning storm.

"I thank everyone for being here," Jacob began, "And although my presentation will soon begin, I would first like to mark this special occasion with the announcement of some good news."

He turned to his wife, giving her the lead. She said in a clear strong voice, "Our lives have been very private thus far, but that has changed ever since my husband has decided to run for a seat in the senate."

Jacob put a hand over his heart and said, "I apologise for that dear."

The crowd laughed at the joke.

"So it is with the great pleasure that I make this announcement," Marlene continued. She motioned to someone behind her. A beautiful young woman stepped out and stood next to her. Jacob also motioned to someone behind him, but whoever it was seemed reluctant to come into view. After a bit of persuasion, a man stepped out. A man Chance recognised all too well. Talan. Marlene went on, "My son Talan Kedron, will be marrying this lovely young woman, Cassandra Bates."

The crowd cheered and applauded. Chance felt like someone had hit him in the face. He wanted to sit down, but there was nowhere for it. Around him the room spun and the walls threatened to box him in. It took all his effort to stay upright. When the dizziness passed, he glanced up again and saw Talan looking directly at him. The shock on his face must have matched his own. Why would Talan be shocked? It may have been he didn't expect to see Chance standing there, next to the Mayor of Sydney. But that couldn't have been it. There was more written on his face, he appeared hurt as well, aggrieved.

Talan inched closer towards the railing while still looking at Chance, his countenance remorseful now. Chance broke their eye contact, turned and made his way to the back of the room. He'd had enough revelations for the day, what he needed was some more champagne.

Chapter Six: Strange Disturbances

2006-06-13T20:29:00.000+10:00

The sound of Talan's motorbike dwindled into the distance. Chance remained stock-still, staring at the wooden kitchen floor. He was torn up inside. The greatest of all his hopes had blossomed in Talan's embrace. In one short moment of pure bliss the flame within him he carried for Talan burnt into a ferocious blaze. All his longings and yearnings for his new friend were finally being realised. Then swiftly his hopes wilted. One minute he was the happiest guy on the planet and the next he only wanted to jump off a tall building. When Talan looked into his eyes and saw into him, he felt his friend was seeing into his soul. He thought Talan was understanding how special it was to explore intimate feelings with another man. He was mistaken. It was more than likely that Talan reacted to their deepening friendship in the wrong way. Chance knew he had no one else to blame but himself. He turned his charms up to the fullest around Talan, trying to be as friendly as he could. On some level he wanted Talan to see how great a guy he was, then maybe eventually take the plunge and consider a more personal relationship with him. Well it worked, and it backfired.

Chance fell to his knees. The solid wooden floor was jarring and painful but it barely registered in his mind. He brought his hands up to his face and cried into them even harder than he had before. He was really falling for Talan. Like a whirlwind, the man had come into his life and showed him that true goodness still existed in this world. Everything about Talan was a rare treasure to be cherished and appreciated. Now he would never know to what extent those treasures could be uncovered. He knew he shouldn't be feeling a great loss over something that was never his in the first place.

He couldn't be like this. He was not going to let this one thing take control of his emotions. Taking a deep breath he exhaled it out slowly. Shakily, he stood up and straightened his back. He was determined to get on with his life.

Making his way to the backdoor he peeked outside. Sky raised her head and looked up at him from her kennel. Her head tilted to the side with curiosity while her tail wagged furiously against the cushioned bedding. She was a Labrador-Border Collie cross. Her coat was short, predominant in Labradors and the colour was a black and white typical of Border Collie's. It shone in the moonlight.

"Come here, girl," he called to her.

She shot up and out of her kennel in an instant and stood by the open door. His dog was well trained and disciplined. From the moment he brought her home from the pet shop, he had dedicated a lot of time training her. She could do countless tricks on command. She was also very obedient. They had a lot of fun together too, he spent as much time playing with her and taking her out for walks as he did in her training.

He opened the door wide enough to let her through and said, "Come on girl."

She did so, waiting inside by his feet as he closed the door and locked it.

"We're going to have to be quiet because Jon is asleep," he said to his dog.

Chance walked into the lounge room with Sky following him. He dropped himself across the couch and patted the space in front of him for Sky to jump up on. Her ears flattened back. She looked at him as if he was an alien. He laughed softly. She wasn't used to being allowed inside the house.

"It's okay girl," he said patting the space again.

After sniffing the sofa, probably to ensure there was nothing nasty lying in wait - whatever that may be in the mind of a dog in doggy world, she gingerly jumped on the sofa to lay along the ample space in front of him. Sky rested her head below his, she looked at him contentedly, happy to be with him. He stroked the back of her head and softly scratched behind her ears. Many people may believe that dogs aren't capable of conveying facial expressions. He believed otherwise. Right now, as he gently scratched behind Sky's ears, she was smiling.

"How simple things are for you," he said to his dog.

His canine friend smiled in agreement.

Chance closed his eyes. He let his mind wander, careful not to let it slip to thoughts of Talan. As soon as he tried not to think of Talan, inevitably he did. He imagined the softness of those lips, felt those strong hands tenderly combing through his hair and caressing the back of his neck, pictured the look of guilt written on his friends face, remembered how hurt he felt when he realised it was all too good to be true. No. He'd be damned if he was going to keep dwelling on something that should never have happened. He would forget it ever did. Resolved to that decision his thoughts drifted off and slumber took him.

* * *

Chance awoke with a start. His heart was racing, beating at high-speed. Fear gripped him to the spot, paralysed. He couldn't move. The brilliant glare of daylight blinded his vision and he quickly blinked the brightness away. When his vision cleared he didn't immediately recognise where he was. Then he recalled that he'd fallen asleep on the sofa in the lounge room. The lingering feeling from his dream, of being pursued by something dangerous, dissipated with the slowing of his heart rate. He raised a hand to his forehead and felt a wetness. Bringing his hands in front of his face he saw clear fluid on his fingertips. He'd been sweating. He lifted his head up slightly to see his dog, Sky, with her head on his chest looking at him. She whined with concern.

Glancing at the clock on the wall he groaned at the time it displayed. It was almost nine-thirty. Sleeping in was not a usual practice for him. Even after a night on the drink he liked to wake up early.

"I know it's been a long time since you've had any action, but I didn't think you'd sink to that level of desperation." Jon stood at the archway shaking his head.

"What?" Chance asked slightly confused.

"I feel sorry for the dog," Jon said, "She's lost all her innocence now."

"You dirty bastard." Chance threw a cushion at Jon and he caught it putting it under his arm.

Jon knelt down on one knee and patted the other, he said, "Hey girl."

Sky hopped off the sofa and scampered towards him. She was an attention junkie. Doggy world must be heaven for her.

"See, she's trying to get away from you already," Jon went on, scratching Sky behind the ears. "But you know what this means then?"

"No, but you're going to tell me," Chance said sardonically.

"It means that you're turning straight," he said, "Although I'd advise that next time you try something a little closer to our species, maybe monkeys, then gorillas then ease your way to humans."

Chance threw another pillow at him, being careful not to hit his dog. This time it hit Jon on the shoulder, however, he caught it on the downfall. He said, "You're sick dude, your mind is filthier than all the toilet bowls in the public toilets of Sydney combined."

Jon grinned. "I guess you'd know about that wouldn't you? That is how you usually meet your men? In a toilet cubicle?"

Chance laughed, he'd walked into that one. He said, "I swear, you talk so much shit it's not funny."

After administering some more TLC to the back of Sky's head his friend looked at him. Pensively, Jon said, "Something's wrong isn't there?"

Being as close as they were, they usually knew when something was up. Their friendship and bond was that strong, they couldn't hide much from each other.

He didn't know whether he should tell his friend about Talan or the threatening note he received.

Jon guessed one of them anyway. He said, "You dig your lawyer friend don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chance said.

Sky turned her head at him and made a cute little doggy whine.

"Now who's full of shit," Jon said. "Even your dog thinks so."

"Hmmph, right."

"I know you like him, you were staring at him with lust all night."

Chance's jaw dropped, he looked at Jon incredulously. "I was not! I have no idea what you're going on about!"

"Come on! You know you wanna get into that blondish, blue eyed hunk's pants, or maybe get him in your pants, whatever floats your boat."

He had no more cushions to throw. Chance would have liked to give his friend a boot in the rear end. Instead he said, "In your dreams you closet queer."

"No, my friend, in your dreams!"

Attempting to keep himself from grinning Chance failed. He admitted finally, "Talan is pretty hot."

"Yes, he is a handsome man." Jon ruffled the fur on Sky's head. "And he's probably the nicest guy I've ever met. Genuine. You know what I mean? If I were gay I'd be into him too."

"Sometimes I think you're gayer than me, like how you spend more time on your hair than I ever would," Chance said.

"I'm just a bit metrosexual," Jon stated, "But Talan doesn't appear to be gay, and his fashion is kinda outback country style, but it suits him, being so big and all. So I'm getting the feeling that something happened and it went bad."

He couldn't hide anything from his friend. Staring at the ceiling, he tried not to think of what happened last night. Absently he said, "Talan kissed me."

"You're shittin' me!?" Jon exclaimed. "You sure you didn't kiss him first?"

"I think I know how to restrain myself dude."

"Well then, that's a bit of a twist," Jon said.

"Yeah, and I thought he liked it, but then he backed off, apologised and practically ran out," Chance recalled painfully.

"You have that effect sometimes," Jon joked.

Chance glared at his friend.

"Okay, I deserved that," Jon said, "But he's got a girlfriend doesn't he?"

"Yeah," he said.

"He's a nice guy and even if he was exploring his sexuality, kissing someone else, guy or girl, would probably be like cheating to him, or anyone with a bit of decency for that matter," Jon tried to explain.

"You're probably right," he agreed. "Hey, I'm the psychologist here, I should be better qualified to assess this situation."

"Matters of the heart can blind us sometimes," Jon said insightfully, "A hairdresser doesn't cut their own hair."

"Yes Dr. Phil," Chance said sarcastically, "Thank you so much for the advice."

Jon stood up and grinned. He said, "Anytime my gay little grasshopper."

Chance rolled his eyes, "Don't you have work today?"

"Indeed I do, Master Day, but unlike some people, I don't sleep in like a bum bludging on government welfare," Jon said pretending a didactic stance.

"Please, I was on government payments for a year, that doesn't make me a bum for life," he said sourly. As an afterthought he added, "Idiot."

"Some habits are difficult to kick, but I won't think any less of you," his friend said.

"Idiot," he repeated.

"Now, now, no need for name calling," Jon said as if chiding a little kid. "I'm off to work dude, don't forget to feed your dog or I'll have to call the RSPCA on you."

"Do me a favour mate," Chance asked.

"What?"

"When you're at work, think of me relaxing here watching some DVD's."

"Sure, I'll think of you lying there like a swine," Jon smiled with self-satisfaction at his witty comeback. Jon threw the two cushions that were under his arm at Chance, but Chance punched them away. Immediately after, he made a quick exit like he usually did before someone could get the last word in and he called out behind him, "Someone also left an envelope under the front door for you, I put it on the hallway table, it's probably from Mr. Blue Eyes, your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend you idiot!" Chance said loudly, but Jon was already out the door. Quietly to himself he said, "He probably never will be."

Sky ambled to the sofa and lay her head on the edge, staring at him, she looked like she was pitying him.

"I'm not a bum," he told her.

She whined at him in disagreement.

"If I feed you, promise me you won't look at me like that again," he said.

Sky wagged her tail and barked at him softly in acceptance of his offer.

"Alright then."

He got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. Sky followed, tail wagging.

He grabbed a can of healthy gourmet dog food and after washing Sky's food bowl in the laundry sink by the back door, he scooped half of the can in with a fork. Placing the bowl of dog chow by her kennel, he said, "Bon appétit."

He chuckled at the enthusiasm with which his dog consumed the food.

If only humans were more like good dogs, wanting more of the simple things, enjoying the company of others, rather than struggling for money and power. A vision of people greeting each other by sniffing each other's butts came to his mind. Shaking his head at his own lame thought he returned to the kitchen, covered the can of dog food with foil and placed it in the fridge.

Yawning loudly, Chance stretched his arms above his head to loosen the muscles in his arms and upper body. He still felt tired and groggy. There wasn't much else for him to do today. The chores were all done the previous day. He wasn't even the slightest bit hungry so he wouldn't bother with breakfast yet. There was nothing for him to do. He had his hobbies, like reading, playing video games and painting, but he just didn't feel like doing anything. There was an empty feeling inside him that made him demotivated. Trying to forget something meaningful had ever happened between himself and Talan was harder to do than he expected. If he wanted to continue their friendship he would have to. He couldn't let what happened destroy a relationship that could possibly gain him another best mate for life.

Tiredly, he made his way back to the lounge room and threw himself heavily on the sofa. Chance didn't want any complications in his life, he figured he'd give Talan some time before he called to see how the man was faring. He reminded himself not to bring up a certain sticky subject. At least he wouldn't mention it first.

Feeling happier, he closed his eyes and instantly dozed off.

* * *

Chance bolted upright and he stared wide-eyed at his surroundings. Sleep quickly left him as his ears twitched, seeking the source of some unknown disturbance. His heart was racing again. He forced himself to take deep breaths instead of the short rapid ones his body wanted to. He didn't need the excess oxygen in his brain at the moment. He needed to think clearly.

Maybe he was going crazy, because this irrational behaviour and thinking wasn't normal. For anyone. Waking up ready for the fight of his life was a first for him. Perhaps his body was responding to something in a dream, but he couldn't remember any dreams like he was able to earlier.

Then he heard it. Soft thumps like footsteps coming from the kitchen or one of the rooms where the flooring was wooden. He couldn't tell, the sounds were too quiet, barely audible. A chill crept up the back of his spine and settled on the nape of his neck. Rubbing that area to dispel the creepiness, he got off the sofa as quickly and as quietly as he could.

He delicately lifted the fire poker from its holder and crept towards the archway to the hall. Tip-toeing in his socks, he vaguely remembered kicking his shoes off sometime during his nap. He was grateful for that convenience which allowed him to take quiet steps.

Chance lifted the poker like a baseball bat ready to swing. Listening carefully for any other strange sounds was difficult over the heavy banging of his heart. The rushing blood to his head sounding like wind in his ears didn't help either. The house remained quiet. Carefully, ready to whip his head back, he looked around the corner into the hallway and towards the kitchen at the back of the house. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. No one waited to jump at him wielding a knife like a crazy lunatic pumped up on a bad LSD trip, red-veined eyeballs popping out with dark rings underneath.

Still wary, he decided to do a sweep of the house just in case. He wasn't going to be caught off guard if whoever was threatening him decided to attack.

The nearest room was his, across from the lounge room. The door was slightly ajar. Peering through the gap, he couldn't see anything amiss. Still, it wouldn't be a good idea to be hasty if there was an intruder. Silently, he waited. At least he hoped he was silent. The booming drum beat of his heart seemed loud enough to be heard by his next door neighbours. He was surprised he didn't have a heart attack yet. After what seemed an eternity but in reality was doubtlessly only a few minutes, he pushed the door open further and quickly but soundlessly sprang inside his room, his makeshift baseball bat ready to swing and knock someone's head for a homerun.

No LSD crazed psycho awaited here either. There weren't many hiding places in his room. The bed was an ensemble; someone would have to be anorexic to fit under there. He crept around the bed to make sure no one hid behind it. The door to his walk in closet was open, he couldn't see anyone among his clothes and shoes, but he took a closer look anyway. Holding the poker like a sword ready to stab a nasty bruise into someone, he quickly poked his head into the closet, glanced left, no one, glanced right, no one.

The adjoining en suite bathroom still remained unchecked. He tip-toed across to the door. With one hand hovering above the doorknob and the other hand raised, tightly clenching the poker, poised for a battering, he steeled himself. Throwing the door open he jumped inside appearing like the madman he imagined he was defending against. The instant he went through the bathroom doorway, his eyes did a quick survey even before his first step hit the ground. Nothing. The walls of the shower stall was made of clear glass. There was nowhere else in here anyone could hide.

Chance was beginning to feel really stupid. If an intruder was in the house, they would have revealed themselves when they cracked up laughing upon seeing his paranoid antics.

Paranoid or not, he felt justified acting this way. Someone had sent him a threatening note just a couple of days before. After first receiving it, he contemplated taking it to the police, but he realised that the note didn't contain any direct threat to his life, only a return promise of pain he'd allegedly caused them. He wasn't a violent person. He abhorred violence. His aversion to violence most definitely arose from the physical abuse he suffered at the hands of his father growing up. He could not have hurt anyone. He'd never hit anyone in his life, he would have remembered if he did. That could only leave psychological pain. But he'd never mentally abused anyone either, he believed he wasn't capable of it. Chance was always mindful of other people's feelings. He was at a loss at how he could have caused anyone pain, psychological or physical, at any point in his life. The note remained in the desk of his bedside table.

Nevertheless, just to be safe, he continued to check the rest of the house and every possible hiding place. Cautious still, yet not with the same leap-through-doorways gusto he exhibited previously. The house was empty. He really was crazy. Hearing things and reacting like a paranoid freak.

Shaking his head he went to return the poker he was ready to do physical harm with for the first time in his life. He was halfway down the hall when he heard it again. A scuffling sound. Like someone hurriedly walking across a wooden floor. This time he knew he wasn't imagining it. The sound clearly came from his room.

Heart racing again, hair on his arms standing on end from goosebumps, he raised the poker ready to swing it once more. He'd left the door to his room wide open and it was in the same position. Once more, Chance waited with his back against the wall beside the open doorway. It was impossible that someone could be in the house after searching it so carefully.

When he didn't hear anything, he charged into the room, fear and adrenalin pumping through his veins. Searching the room more swiftly this time, poker at the ready, he found no intruder. He was sure he'd heard someone in his room.

A slight breeze ruffled the curtains of the window facing the neighbours house. He swore he didn't remember the window being left open. Now they were raised up completely.

Something on the bed that wasn't there before drew his attention. It was an envelope. The same familiar small envelope. There was something different this time. His full name was printed in ink across the front. Apparently so no one could mistake who it was for. With trepidation he picked it up and opened it. Another small card awaited. With fear he read it.

Soon, Dr. Day, you will no longer cause any more pain.

Before he could react to the note, the phone rang. The envelope and note dropped to the floor as he became airborne. He jumped so high he was surprised he didn't hit the ceiling. There were four cordless phones in the house, one in the lounge, one in the kitchen and one in each his and Jon's room. The phone was capable of twenty-two different ring tones that worked concurrently with caller I.D. They each assigned ten different ring tones to delegate for work, family and friends. One ring tone played when the number calling showed up on caller I.D. but wasn't on the personalised ring tone list, and the other ring tone played when the number was private. It was the latter ring tone that played. They rarely ever received calls from private numbers.

Hand trembling, Chance picked up the phone and put it to his ear. He took a gulp before he said weakly, "Hello?"

Silence greeted him.

With more force he said, "Hello?"

There was still no reply, he'd made himself clear enough to be heard. He decided to play chicken, he'd be damned if he was going to let this freak intimidate him. His skin crawled as the minutes ticked by, then the sound of a deep breath being drawn, followed by words in a whisper that chilled him to the very core.

"Some words of wisdom; sleeping in makes you lazy, and playing with fire pokers can be dangerous."

The line suddenly cut off and then all he could hear was the busy tone. Terror seeped into every part of his body. The phone slipped from his hands, dropped to the floor and bounced several times. The fear he now felt was insurmountable.

Chapter Five: Confusions

2006-05-24T21:32:00.000+10:00

"I still find it hard to believe that it's legal now for same sex couples to marry in England," Nicholas said to Talan.

Cassandra and her brother Nicholas were seated at the dining table in his apartment. Cassandra had cooked a delicious meal for them even though Talan had offered to, but she insisted, explaining that she wanted to do this for her brother. He wasn't about to argue because she would know what her own brother liked best anyway. After they had finished eating and he'd cleared the table, they sat there chatting as they drank a moderately expensive bottle of red wine. He never kept cheap wine in the apartment, mostly because Cassandra wouldn't drink it if it cost less than a hundred dollars.

"I know what you mean, you would think England was so entrenched in its laws that it would be hard to change them," Talan said.

"It's good that they did change them," Nicholas said. Then in a confiding tone, "I don't know if Cass has told you this, but I'm gay myself."

He glanced at Cassandra with a questioning look, he said, "No, she never mentioned it."

"I didn't feel it was my place to tell," she explained.

Talan smiled reassuringly at her, he said, "I understand honey, I would've done the same thing."

"And that's what I love about you," she said fondly to him.

He didn't know how to respond to that, never before had she ever brought the word love into conversation, even in private. She didn't say she loved him, only that she loved something about him. He realised she was testing him, he'd known her long enough to see it was a ploy to ascertain his reaction. Without too much hesitation, he smiled at Cassandra warmly. He was not going to be caught out stunned or unresponsive. Neither was he going to be baited into saying something he didn't believe he felt.

"I hope this doesn't change how you think about me," Nicholas said.

"Not at all," Talan said, "I don't think any different of you, I actually have a friend that's gay."

Cassandra and Nicholas both leaned closer in their seats.

"Really? You've never said anything about this before," Cassandra said with an interest that veiled her true dismay.

"You do? Is he single? Is he good looking?" Nicholas asked at the same time.

"Yes, he is single and very good looking too," he replied to Nicholas and then to Cassandra, "We've only just met, I'm sorry if I failed to mention it before."

"I only want you to be happy, I know how many friends you have lost or who don't keep in touch anymore, so I can't see why you couldn't share this good news with me sooner," she said concerned, "Although it does explain why you've been really cheerful lately."

His girlfriend did have a point. Meeting a new friend he held in high esteem was good news he should have shared with her. Yet he'd never thought to tell her. It was never his intention to keep it from her, but subconsciously he did. He wasn't ashamed of having a gay friend so that couldn't be the reason. He'd been happier than he'd ever been in a long time and he knew it was because of his friendship with Chance. Every time he was with Chance he felt comfortable and at ease like he never could be with anyone else.

When he took Chance home on his motorbike the other night, his concentration was heavily focused on the road. Thinking about it more closely, he could suddenly remember fleeting emotions he must have repressed until now. He remembered how . . . appropriate - yes, appropriate - it felt to have Chance's arms around him, strange as it may sound. When he sensed the other man's erection against his back for a short time at some point during the ride, Talan felt a bit flattered, and slightly aroused himself. Impossible. How could he have not noticed these underlying feelings, did it mean he felt something more intimate for Chance Day?

"Darling?" Cassandra said bringing him out of his thoughts, "You've gone red as a turnip."

She was right, his face was burning somewhat, he said quickly, "It must be the wine."

"But you've barely touched your second glass," She pointed out.

"You know how I am with alcohol," he said as if it was explanation enough.

"Yes I do actually," Cassandra said. "You must let us meet your new friend soon. What's his name?"

"Yeah mate, you must introduce us," Nicholas agreed in his English accent.

"His name?" Talan asked unsure of whether he should say anything, "I... I think I've said too much, I really shouldn't have said he was gay without his permission, I feel really awful for letting that slip."

"Look what we've done now," Cassandra said amused, "We've put my boyfriend in a moral quandary."

"I think it's adorable," Nicholas said at Talan's flustered state.

He must have went bright red again because they laughed at seeing his face.

"I won't push you anymore darling," Cassandra said getting up, "I think I'll get you some iced water with a slice of lemon to cool you down."

"Thanks," Talan said appreciatively as Cassandra headed into the kitchen.

Nicholas was looking at him strangely, for a second it reminded Talan of the way Chance looked at him when the doctor thought he wasn't noticing.

"What?" he questioned.

"There's just something about you," Nicholas said. Silent alarms went off inside his head. Confused, he wondered why he would feel perturbed at that statement.

"What do you mean?" Talan asked for clarification.

"I don't know, It's like you've got this innocence about you, but at the same time it's not a naïve kind, and you have such high upstanding morals," Nicholas said perplexed.

"Thanks," Talan said, inwardly relieved. His relief was equally as confusing as the alarm he'd felt before. He said, "Your sentiments are much too kind, I only try to be as positive and just as I can be."

"See, why couldn't there be more men like you?" Nicholas said, "If you were gay I'd snatch you up for myself and never let you go."

Talan looked away and blushed with embarrassment at how direct Cassandra's brother was being with him.

"What are you doing to poor Talan," Cassandra said entering the dining room and handing him a glass of iced water with a slice of lemon floating at the top, "He's not going to take too much of this."

"Thank you," he said to Cassandra again.

She gave him a smile that said 'You're welcome'.

"I was just saying how I'd love to steal him away from you," Nicholas said to his sister.

Cassandra snorted indignantly, which was not quite how she usually reacted around other people. She must be more comfortable around her brother. She said, "Not likely, no one's taking my Talan away from me, nothing will ever get between us."

Talan smiled at Cassandra again. Inside, he wasn't as convinced at the certitude he was projecting. A small seed of doubt had sprouted within him. He wasn't so sure of his future with Cassandra anymore. He still held her in the highest of affections, but a small hope for something more profound than he could ever imagine was growing in him as well.

"I think it's time for me to get back to my hotel and freshen up for my night out," Nicholas said abruptly, "Thanks for your hospitality Talan and thanks for the delicious meal sis."

After shaking Talan's hand, Nicholas kissed Cassandra on the cheeks and left with a flourish.

"I should leave too," Cassandra told him.

"So early?" he said.

"Yes, I would love to stay but I've made arrangements with your mother," she said.

"What kind of arrangements?" Talan asked suspicious.

"If I told you I couldn't surprise you with it," Cassandra said evasively.

"If it involves my mother, I'm not going to ask," he conceded. "But I'll guess that it entails plans for my future."

Cassandra didn't respond to that. Which led him to believe he was right.

"I'll see you soon then darling," she said to him.

He kissed her lips gently and when their mouths parted she smiled at him wistfully. A regretful longing made her eyes glisten on the verge of tears.

"I do love you," she said and left without waiting for a response.

The words hit him like a blow to the chest. Had she waited there for him to respond she would have been waiting some time. It appeared she left without awaiting his response for the reason that she knew he couldn't reciprocate those feelings. She was a lot smarter than he gave her credit for. She wasn't stupid, but in matters of the heart he thought he did his best not to lead her on, to let her think he loved her. Love had to come naturally, and when it did he would express it to her. She must have realised this, but still decided to bare her feelings for him.

He was beginning to feel guilty about his relationship with Cassandra, though he knew he shouldn't. His emotions were everywhere tonight, he needed some clarity and only one thing could do that.

On his motorbike he cruised the streets, concentrating on the road and nothing else. He didn't need to worry about anything. All his troubles seemed to melt away as the urban terrain of his hometown Sydney blurred past.

He noticed he was on the motorway which led towards the suburb in which Chance lived. He decided to give his friend a visit.

Not long after, he was parked on the front driveway and was walking to the front porch when the door opened before he got there to knock.

Chance stepped out of the house, with a grin on his face he said, "Talan, what a surprise, I heard your bike, I'm glad you dropped by."

"I didn't know if you'd be home," Talan said.

"Sometimes I go out to the pub, but tonight I haven't because Jon has work tomorrow, so I thought I'd stay home and entertain him," Chance said. "Anyway, come in, we were just playing poker, you came right on time."

"Thanks," Talan said, stepping past Chance into his house.

Chance's home was sensibly decorated, there wasn't a lot of knick-knacks that he could see, but the careful placement of larger more interesting items in areas where white space would otherwise dominate made up for it. Talan stood just inside the house, by the door, awaiting Chance to show him in further. From where he was, he could see inside the living room, down the length of the hallway and part of the kitchen beyond. The living room had a large comfortable looking dark brown fabric couch some distance in front of a big wide-screen plasma television. On the wall behind the television hung a large round metal shield with two swords hanging in an 'x' close above it. A fireplace was situated on the far wall between the couch and the television. A fur rug, perhaps sheep wool, lay in the centre of the room. The hall Talan stood in was only furnished with a small wide table by the door. Along the walls of the hallway hung various photo frames in different shapes and sizes. The photos nearest to him contained a smiling Chance with people who looked close to him. There was a happy carefree attitude about the pictures he could see that was infectious and his mood lifted because of it.

"Oh, you've noticed the photos," Chance said after he locked the front door, "Some of them are embarrassing but I chose the best ones for this hall, pictures that showed happy times so I'd be reminded that there are plenty more to come."

"That's a really good method," Talan complimented.

"I think it is too," Chance said, "Come through to the kitchen, I'll introduce you to Jon."

"Okay," Talan said following Chance towards the back of the house. The kitchen was spacious and modern. It combined a dining room in an open plan and gave an overall relaxed feeling. A designer black table with matching low backed chairs was the centrepiece of the dining section. A good looking young man with blond hair sat at the table shuffling a deck of cards. He rose from the seat when they neared him.

"This is my flatmate and best friend Jon," Chance introduced, "Jon, this is Talan."

Jon shook his hand and said, "Good to meet you mate, so you're the guy who almost killed Chance?"

"Don't listen to him," Chance said, "Don't even take anything he says seriously either."

"How can you talk about me like that, Chance?" Jon asked hurt, though sounding like he was putting it on.

"Pretty easily dude," Chance said grinning, "Especially when it's the truth."

"Well it's not nice to introduce me that way to other people," Jon said, "You'll give them the wrong impression of me before they can make their own opinion."

"Cut the crap mate, everyone sees your true colours pretty quickly," Chance said light-heartedly.

"That's because what you see is what you get," Jon said, then to Talan he asked, "Can I get you a drink? We're on the scotch whiskey tonight, Johnny Walker Black Label."

"Uhm, I..." Talan began.

Jon cut him off, "Okay, a glass of scotch it is."

Talan looked at Chance confused at having the decision made for him. Chance just shrugged his shoulders and gave him a what-can-you-do-about-it look.

"Get me a refill while you're there," Chance told Jon.

"Lazy bastard," Jon said to Chance. He picked up the two glasses on the table and walked across to the kitchen.

"Hey! I poured the last round, it's your turn now and don't forget the ice for me," Chance called out to Jon across the room, he asked Talan, "Do you want ice, or coke with it?"

"No thanks," Talan said shaking his head at the same time.

"Make it straight for Talan," Chance said loudly to Jon.

"Yeah, got it, you don't have to friggin' shout you idiot, I'm not deaf," Jon said just as loudly across the room. "Why can't you keep it simple like Talan?"

"Shut up and pour our drinks already," Chance told Jon, he said this in a way that wasn't rude. Rather, their conversation reflected the closeness of their friendship and Talan was in awe and just slightly envious of it. He'd never had any friends close enough to speak so openly with. When his father came into his inheritance and their good fortune changed dramatically, people who before had never even given him a second glance would try to worm their way into his life. Saddened that so many people only cared about money he kept them all at arms length, never letting any one of them close enough to him.

"Take a seat mate," Chance said, seating himself, "I hope you're good at poker because I always end up winning when we play for money, but we're not playing for money tonight so I'll go easy on you."

Talan sat down at the table and chuckled at the confidence Chance displayed over his apparent poker skills.

"Yeah, I think he cheats," Jon said returning with the drinks.

"Thanks," Talan said when Jon handed him a glass.

"That's what losers always say," Chance said playfully smug.

"See," Jon said to Talan, "The only thing bigger than Chance's head is his mouth."

"Are you sure about that?" Chance asked in a friendly challenge, "I can think of something else that's bigger."

"I can't," Jon returned.

Talan bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. Chance glanced at him and suddenly turned red, then looked away before Talan could register the embarrassment. Talan stared at his glass. Chance must have remembered the state of arousal he was in the other night on his motorbike. That arousal did feel big pressed against his back. Surprised that the memory was giving him some pleasure, his own cheeks flushed with heat. The awkward moment was broken by an oblivious Jon dealing out the cards for a game of poker.

Chance was indeed as good at poker as he claimed. Winning the first few games he must have decided to show some mercy when he allowed Talan to win a few. Talan was delighted at spending time with such unpretentious friends. He was having more fun than he'd had for a long time and after a few more drinks he even became accustomed to Jon's vulgar language. The night progressed with Jon winning the fewest games and Chance making fun of him for it. He was feeling good, the alcohol was loosening him up and making him more talkative than he usually would be. When he discovered that Jon was a private investigator, he became extremely interested and asked quite a few questions about the profession, getting a good deal of eye rolling from Chance when Jon went into elaborate explanations.

"I would love to tell you more about my job, Talan," Jon said, "But it's close to midnight and I need to get some sleep so that I can work tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I kept you up," Talan apologised, "I really didn't mean to bother you with so many questions."

"You're a hoot!" Jon exclaimed, then to Chance he said, "Where did you find this guy!"

"On the streets apparently," Chance said.

They all laughed at the truth behind the joke.

"It was good to meet you mate," Jon said as he came around the table to shake his hand again, "You're always welcome to drop by anytime."

"Thanks," Talan said, "It was good to meet you too."

Jon put his glass away and said goodnight to the both of them. He was alone with Chance, who was putting the cards back into their pack.

"You didn't want to play another round did you?" Chance asked before he put the cards away entirely.

"No," Talan said, "I don't feel like being beaten again."

Chance said, laughing, "Wise decision."

Talan felt exhilarated being around Chance. The other man exuded something that was addictive and intoxicating. Chance made the time they spent together extremely enjoyable. For the first time in his life he felt alive and animated. Chance inspired in him a yearning for something more of his existence, or more precisely, a yearning to fill something he never knew he was missing.

"Are you going to be alright to ride your bike?" his friend asked him with concern, "If not you can always stay here, we have a guest bedroom, well, it's actually a mini gym set-up which happens to have a spare bed in there."

"Thanks for the offer," Talan said, "But I should be alright, I've been drinking water for the past hour and I didn't have too many drinks, so I should be under the legal limit to ride."

"Well, just making sure you are then," Chance explained, "I don't want something to happen to you."

"Thanks for your concern," Talan said, "It means a lot to me."

"It's nothing," Chance said, "Mates should always look out for each other."

"I'm grateful to have a mate like you," he said with genuine honesty.

"Same here mate," Chance said, "You're not like anyone I've ever known."

Talan's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment for the umpteenth time that night and he looked away. He checked his watch but he knew it was around midnight.

"I should get going, I don't want to keep you up too late," he said.

"It wouldn't be a bad thing if you did, it's only Sunday tomorrow," Chance said.

"Still, you should get some rest, you look tired," Talan said.

They rose from their seats at the same time and Chance bumped into him as they both tried to go towards the door at the same time. Chance wasn't at risk of falling but Talan grabbed his arm anyway to make sure he was steady. He looked into the other man's eyes, they were like deep pools of darkness that swirled hypnotically. His heart raced as he kept his hand on Chance's arm.

The space between their heads diminished and Chance's face began to fill his vision. He was very good looking with his thick black eyebrows and neatly trimmed facial hair. Before he knew it, his lips found Chance's and he parted them. He held the sides of Chance's head with his hands as his tongue darted inside his friend's warm and moist mouth to explore the other man's tongue. With his eyes closed the pleasurable sensations were heightened. At some point Chance must have taken some breath fresheners because he tasted minty. Talan was becoming aroused and he pressed himself against the other man. He could feel that Chance was aroused too. Their erections pressed against each other, further exciting him, driving him to kiss his friend with hunger. He could think of nothing else but how good it felt to have Chance in his arms, and the taste of him in his mouth. He was lost in the moment, he didn't care about anything else.

Suddenly a mental picture of his girlfriend Cassandra floated across his mind and his passion deflated like a punctured balloon. Talan pulled away from Chance abruptly, but gently. His friend looked at him with confusion - he had good reason to be confused. He hadn't intended for their friendship to steer in the wrong direction. What he'd just done was unforgivable.

"I'm so sorry Chance," Talan said deeply regretful, "I shouldn't have done that to you."

The confusion conveyed in Chance's face increased. How could he have been so stupid as to do something like that to such a good friend? How could he ruin their friendship?

He continued, "I - I don't know why I did that, but it won't happen again, I just don't know what came over me."

Chance still appeared confused, though now his eyes began to glisten with the onset of tears.

Talan went on, "Please don't be upset, don't be mad at me."

He was walking backwards towards the hallway, putting some distance between them. He hated himself for upsetting his friend and putting Chance in an awkward position. His vision was blurring as he felt his own eyes growing wet from the humiliation.

"Please, forgive me," he whispered. He turned and all but ran down the hallway to the front door as tears streaked down his face. He stopped at the front door for a moment before going through. Talan took one last look at Chance and his heart broke into pieces. Chance stood in the same spot, shoulders slumped, head hung low he was staring at the ground without moving. The man was a vision of devastation, crushed by Talan's stupidity.

He left quickly. He'd done enough damage. Not ever would he be able to forget the image of Chance standing there shattered and alone. He was never going to forgive himself for it, even if Chance ever did.

Chapter Four: Solemn Promises

2006-04-28T14:25:00.000+10:00

"Mic's on in three...two...one," Jim the technical operator said as the last radio advertisement finished playing.

The 'microphone on' light on the wall behind the operator's panel lit up and Chance said in his radio voice, "Welcome back, we've come to the end of tonight's Late Night Session, and I'm sad to say that I must leave you all again. But don't worry because tomorrow night I'll be back to talk about addictions and what we can do about them. Tune in every weeknight at ten o'clock. This is Dr. Day signing out for now and remember, life is a journey - live it."

The outro music played and Jim cued up more advertisements. Chance removed his headphones and glanced at the computer monitor, which relayed messages from the reception desk. The words 'Another great job Dr. Day' was displayed in large font across the screen. He looked through the large glass panels separating the live studio from the front reception and gave Jessica a thumbs up. She gave him a beaming smile.

"Excellent work again Jim," Chance complimented his work mate as they stepped out of the room to allow the next program presenters in. The hosts of the next show nodded to them as they left and they acknowledged the greeting with a return nod. There wasn't much time to exchange in even a short conversation between programs. Airtime was meticulously planned and every second accounted for. A good radio station knew that.

"Only doing my job, Chance," Jim said.

"And you do it very well," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow night then."

"Sure thing, see ya," Jim said as he left for the back of the station.

Chance was feeling on top of the world, he'd been in a great mood ever since he met Talan. When he came in to work that afternoon the Station Manager had come to see him straight away. He smiled as he recalled their conversation.

"Just the doctor I was looking for," Jeff had said.

"G'day boss, how are you today?" Chance asked.

"Doing very good Chance, and yourself? That bump isn't too serious is it?" Jeff asked in return.

"I'm fine, it was nothing bad, I didn't even have a concussion," he replied.

"Good, good," Jeff said, "Saw you on the news today and I want to tell you what an excellent job you did handling those reporters. You even managed to get a plug in for the show, I'm really happy you even thought to put a word in about that."

"Thank you," he said glowing with the praise.

"Your show has seen a phenomenal rise in listeners since the very beginning and pretty quickly overtook our highest ranking programs to become the most listened to show in this radio's history."

"Wow, I didn't know that," Chance said feeling humbled.

"Yes, and your listener base keeps growing everyday, advertisers are clamouring to have their ads aired during your show and I've had to raise the charges to allow only those who can afford it to do so, and let me tell you there's no shortage of those. That's why I think it is only fair to give you a thirty percent pay rise."

Chance was stunned, "Gee, I don't know what else to say but . . . thanks."

"Just keep up the good work," Jeff had said, "You're our most valuable asset now and we don't want to lose you."

"Thanks boss, you can count on me," Chance had said in elation.

"I know I can," his boss had said confidently.

He was already being paid a lot of money and thirty percent extra on top of what he was making was a staggering amount. He earned more than he needed, he thought about making regular donations to a charitable cause and perhaps making some investments for the sake of his mother's future in case she needed special care. Chance smiled as his awareness returned to the present. At the front reception, Jessica was finished with her duties and ready to leave. She wore a cream miniskirt and tight corporate shirt that was unbuttoned almost halfway to reveal her cleavage as usual. He never looked at her below the head, he knew that the moment he ever did, she would think she had a chance with him and become more aggressive in her pursuit of him. That didn't stop her from eyeing him like he was juicy piece of cooked meat ready to be devoured. Wow, she really would devour him, literally too. He grimaced, but quickly wiped the expression from his face. He wasn't prepared to explain why he'd just looked like someone had vomited right in front of him.

"You have a visitor Dr. Day," Jessica said, rolling out the word 'visitor' as if it was a detestable word, "He's in the waiting room out front."

Chance was about to raise an eyebrow but stopped himself in time, instead he asked, "Who is it?"

"It's that man from last night," Jessica answered pronouncing 'man' just as detestably but also using the word in a way that wasn't adequate a description of who she was referring to.

"Oh, Talan," he said happily, "I'll go see him now."

Jessica followed him to the waiting room, which led to the entrance of the station. As Chance walked through the door, Talan noticed him and rose from the couch he'd been occupying. The sight of Talan still managed to take his breath away and his knees threatened to go weak on him.

Chance held his hand out to shake and said, "Talan, it's good to see you again, what brings you here tonight?"

"I was actually on my way back to my apartment from my parents and I wanted to hear your show but I wouldn't have made it in time so I came here hoping the station would broadcast in it's waiting room, and it is," Talan said motioning to the speakers built into the roof which was airing the station's current program.

"Good thinking, but you I can always get you a recorded copy of any of my aired shows if you really like it," Chance told him.

"You can?" Talan said surprised, "Oh, but I think I prefer hearing you live."

"I won't hold it against you if you don't listen to my show, you're not obliged to," he said.

Talan looked abashed as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ground. He was really cute, like a little boy, well, a big boy. He said, "I just thought...I thought that's what a friend should do...you know, support each other's endeavours."

"I'm really flattered, thank you," Chance said slightly embarrassed himself.

"That's okay," Talan said looking at him with those alluring blue eyes, he felt like he could melt from that gaze.

Jessica cleared her throat loudly. He and Talan both turned their heads to look at her. He'd forgotten that she was still there.

"If there isn't anything else you need me to do, I'll be leaving then," she said, with a heavy suggestion that she was waiting to leave with him.

"Okay Jessica, there's still a few things I need to finish with here," Chance told her, "But I'll see you tomorrow."

Jessica was disappointed, she said a bit sulkily, "Okay Dr. Day, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"You put up with her really well," Talan said after she left.

"She has her moments," he said, "But anyway, would you like a tour of the station?"

"That would be nice," Talan said.

"Come on then," Chance said and led Talan into the station. "I'll have to give you a visitor's badge to wear though, for security reasons, there are camera's everywhere, except in the offices."

"That's fine, it'll be fun," Talan said.

Chance unlocked a cabinet with a key he kept on his key ring and scrounged around for a box with the badges in them. After he found it, he grabbed one and returned the cabinet to its locked state. Talan didn't have any pockets on his riding jacket so Chance pinned it along the zipper at his chest level. Chance's hands lingered there for a few seconds longer than he should have, but knowing that his hands were so close to Talan's muscular chest gave him a pleasant sensation so he pretended to make sure it was firmly set to mask the fact he was taking a bit too long. Chance looked up at Talan when he was done and the other man smiled at him. Talan was so handsome he wanted to reach his hand out and caress that exquisite face.

Smiling back he said, "Okay, let's start the tour."

He gave Talan a comprehensive tour of Radio Station KPS FM, from the digital studios to the off air studios, from the music library to the media room, until finally they made their last stop at his office. He invited Talan in and continued to talk while he filed some papers away.

"This is probably the best job in the world," he said as he finished, "Okay, well, apart from being a T.V. presenter for a holiday show, they get to travel all around the world."

"Your job is much more important than that," Talan disagreed, "I seriously doubt they're helping as many people as you do."

"I know, I wouldn't trade jobs with them for any reason," he said, "Helping others is one of the things I like about my work here."

"And it's one of the virtues I find honourable about you Chance," Talan said sincerely.

"I do my best, but my job pays me too well, which doesn't make it a great virtue," he said, "But you on the other hand, do entirely legal aid work, even though the pay isn't too good, which leads me to believe that you're giving a lot more of yourself than you need to."

Talan looked away embarrassed by the compliment. It was adorable how he could give a compliment yet not receive one so well. He said, "I just want to help people who aren't as fortunate as we are, we take so many things for granted that it's easy to forget there are so many people who don't have it as easy."

Chance wanted to run up to Talan and hug the man, but instead he went and stood in front of him. Talan gave him a lopsided grin that sent a hot surge throughout his body. Something told Chance that while the goodness in this man would never wane, his charity was something that had probably gone unacknowledged for a long time. The quiet strength in this beautiful man, forever enduring and steadfast almost brought tears to his eyes. Talan was as beautiful on the inside, heart and soul, as he was in appearance. It wasn't his intention to be discernibly flirtatious or to give the impression that he was making sexual advances as he raised his right hand and placed it against Talan's heart. He was making a connection, and wanted Talan to know he was being open and candid.

Chance said, "You are the most genuine, honest, and decent person I have ever met and ever will meet. Your kindness has no limits and you should know that there are too few people in this world like yourself. Even though I've only known you a day, I can say that I am truly thankful to be your friend, and even more honoured to know you."

Conflicting emotions seemed to cross Talan's face, from embarrassment to joy and contentment. Strangely, for reason's Chance couldn't fathom, the most prominent emotion he saw displayed across that handsome face was guilt. Chance could feel Talan's heart beating faster underneath his hand, even through the thick layer of the black leather. If he kept this up any longer it was going to get awkward so he dropped his hand back to his side and gave Talan a reassuring smile.

"That's what I think anyway," and cheekily he said, "But you don't have to take my word for it."

Talan laughed and Chance felt gratified at the melodious sound. They had only known each other for a day, but he felt he knew Talan for much longer than that. He felt at ease around the other man, felt like there was nothing he couldn't say or that there was any secret he could withhold. Not that he wanted to keep any secrets from Talan, his life was a simple one and he didn't have any strange quirks or weird obsessions he felt he needed to hide. There was something else there too. Something much harder to put his finger on, it was a feeling that seemed to grow the longer he was in Talan's presence. That feeling caused a pleasurable warmth to envelope him from head to toe. The same feeling made him want to be around Talan; spend as much time with him as Chance could. He knew that if Talan left now, he would be considerably disappointed. Perhaps he was becoming addicted to the company of his new friend. That may be something he could bring up on the show tomorrow night - addictions to people. The alternative was much more frightening than he could bring himself to admit. It just wasn't possible. Not possible at all. He couldn't be in love with Talan; he didn't have a chance in hell. Talan was straight and taken. To feel this deeply would jeopardise their friendship, and their friendship was something he was not willing to lose after only having it for such a short time. Nevertheless, some things can't be helped, and emotions were one of those things. Which was why he decided to take the dive and tell Talan about his sexuality. Talan needed to know and perhaps in telling him, Chance could in his own strange and logical way liberate himself from the intense feelings he had for Talan.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said, his tone was serious now, and a bit dejected because he was dreading what may possibly happen from what he was about to disclose, "When you know this I will totally understand if you don't want to be friends anymore, but...I'm gay. Well, bisexual, but mostly gay."

Talan didn't say anything. He looked like he was pondering on what he'd just heard. That was it then. Chance was prepared to accept that Talan might not take news of his sexuality too well. He turned away. His heart was sinking at the sudden awkward silence between them where before they had chattered away with abandon. He wasn't going to cry but he was on the verge of tears.

He said with much more of a steady voice than he thought he could muster, "Look, if you want to leave you can, you know the way out from here, just leave the visitor's badge on the desk at reception."

Chance waited for the sound of the door opening and closing. Yet it didn't come. Instead he felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder and gently squeeze it. He turned around.

Talan's stare bore into his soul, kindness radiated from him and his words, he said, "Chance, How can you think I would react negatively to what you've said after telling me how kind and decent I am. If you could say that about me, then you can assume I wouldn't care less whether you were gay, straight or liked to dress in women's clothes."

Chance laughed at that but he still felt a bit ashamed that he made such presumptions about Talan's reaction.

Talan continued, "Though I wouldn't have guessed, you didn't have to tell me because it's no one's business who our sexual preferences are. But I feel really privileged that you decided to tell me. I couldn't think any less of you."

"Sorry Talan, I wasn't thinking properly, I guess I just start to think the worst when I decide to tell people," Chance said.

"Has anyone ever reacted badly and refused to be friends with you after you've told them?" asked Talan.

"No," he said.

"There you go, you shouldn't think that I could be any different," Talan told him.

"I think it's a habit for me, having studied psychology and people I think I know all too well how two-faced some people can be," he said, "You'll be surprised the number of people who have told me they're cool with me being gay and don't really care and then behind my back they'll degrade me like the true homophobes they are."

"Though did you really care what those people honestly thought about you?" Talan questioned.

"Not really," Chance said giving it an honest thought, "It's not like they were real friends or anything like that. But to tell you the truth, I did care about what you would think - I didn't want to lose your friendship."

"You will never lose my friendship, maybe eventually we'll end up in different places, but I swear, and I mean this because I have never sworn it to anyone, that you will never lose my friendship, no matter what happens," Talan swore solemnly.

Now Chance really felt like crying. Talan was too much for him as he struggled with his feelings. How could anyone be this genuine? Damnit, his feelings were still as strong as ever, maybe even stronger. He was really falling for this guy. Unrequited love was a great big pain in the ass. Was he really admitting he was in love? He pushed it all to the back of his mind, he'd be damned if he was going to ruin this friendship.

"Thanks Talan, you're a good person," he said, "I'm going to have to introduce you to all my friends, they'll like you and you'll get along well with all of them."

"I'm sure I'll like them too," Talan said.

"Hah! I wouldn't say that too soon," Chance said, thinking about his flatmate Jon, "You might think differently once you meet them! But nah, they're all good people, even though some may be a bit verbal."

Talan raised his eyebrow in confusion. His expression was priceless, and very cute. Once again Chance felt a surge of heat travel through his body. He had to stop thinking of Talan in such a sexual way. He glanced at the clock on his desk and noticed that a couple of hours had passed since his radio program had finished.

"Oh no," he said a bit dismayed.

"What is it?" Talan asked concerned.

"My last train left almost an hour ago," he said, but he wasn't too worried he sometimes stayed back in his office on occasion, "I'll just catch a taxi, that's what I usually do if I stay here a bit later."

"It's all my fault, I kept you back longer than you needed to," Talan apologised.

"No, not at all, don't say that, I had a lot fun talking to you," Chance said.

"Then let me give you a lift home," offered Talan.

"What? On your motorbike?" Chance asked.

"Yeah," Talan answered, "I always keep a spare helmet."

He shrugged then said rhetorically, "Okay, why not?"

Outside the air was warm and humid from the summer weather. A cool breeze blew occasionally offering a slight reprieve when it did.

Talan fetched a spare helmet stowed away in a compartment behind the seat and proceeded to fit it onto Chance's head. He could feel the warmth that radiated from the closeness of those hands near his face. It felt good but he tried not to look like he was getting off on it. He wasn't going to give away his feelings for Talan. He wanted to get rid of those feelings, if it was at all possible.

"There, perfect fit," Talan exclaimed when he finished.

"I don't look like a dork do I?" he asked.

Talan laughed, but when Chance didn't laugh along with him he said, "Oh, you're serious? No you don't. Now come on, are you a man or what?"

Talan slipped his helmet on, as he did Chance muttered, "Last time I checked I was."

"What was that?" Talan asked while busily fixing the straps.

"Nothing," he said putting on the biggest grin he could, "You'll probably need to know where I live."

After he gave the directions he waited for Talan to get on the bike and start the engine. Once that was done Talan motioned for him to hop on. He did so and Talan showed him where to place his feet before grabbing Chances hands and wrapping them around his waist. It took Chance a lot of effort not to become aroused but he managed to think of the most disgusting thoughts to tame himself and avert an embarrassing situation.

Talan turned his head around to look back at Chance and shouted over the noise of the bike's engine, "Hold on tight."

He planned to. Talan motioned for him to put his visor down. He did so and Talan did the same. Then they were off, the initial burst of speed made him feel like he was on an amusement ride. He felt the gravity-force in his stomach but then eventually he became used to it and he began to concentrate on the firm muscles underneath his arms. Whoops, big mistake. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to feel the pain but not hard enough to break the skin and draw blood and had to think of something gross again. Which wasn't very hard considering some of the things his flatmate liked to do to get a laugh out of people. He hoped Talan didn't notice. While he wouldn't complain if another guy pressed a boner against his back, he sure wasn't going to assume Talan liked it. Luckily it didn't seem like Talan had noticed.

Holding Talan in his arms on the motorbike felt like he was flying through the sky when he closed his eyes. During those moments he imagined they were soaring through the starry sky. It wasn't long before Talan arrived in front of his house and stopped in the driveway.

The sudden quiet when the engine was turned off seemed strange after getting used to the noise. When he jumped off the bike it took a moment to get his balance back. His whole body was tingling and it really did feel like he'd just been on a roller coaster ride.

He took the helmet off and passed it to Talan saying, "Whoa, that was awesome."

Talan smiled, he asked, "You've never rode on a motorbike before?"

"No, that was my first," Chance replied.

"I'll have take you on a trip to the country then," Talan said, "Maybe even teach you to ride by yourself."

Chance felt happy that Talan wanted to spend more time with him and relieved that the other man didn't notice his indiscretion on the bike earlier. If he did he wouldn't want Chance riding on the same bike with him again. Wouldn't he?

"That would be excellent, I'll look forward to it," he said, and then asked, "Do you want to come in for a drink of something?"

"No that's okay thanks," Talan declined politely, "I should get back home, I've got work tomorrow."

"Sure, I understand," Chance said, "Call me sometime and we'll do something."

"I will. Bye," Talan said and got onto his bike, started it, reversed it, and sped away with a wave. Chance waved back.

Jon's car wasn't in the carport so he hadn't come home yet. He was probably at his girlfriend's house; he sometimes stayed there after work. Chance checked the mailbox because no one had been home yet to check it. As he grabbed the small pile of letters he felt the strange sensation of being watched for the second time. A small envelope fell to the ground when he took the letters out. He picked it up and decided to see what was in it first. Under the automatic driveway lights he opened the letter and took out a rectangular card. A sentence was typed in the middle that sent chills down his spine before he began to read it.

For the pain you have caused me Dr. Day, you will feel a hundred times more, this I promise you.

His heart raced and pounded heavily in his chest. The feeling of someone watching him intensified and he looked around like a cornered animal, helplessly trying to find escape. Wild eyed, he stuffed the letters in his back pocket and fished the house keys out of his front pockets. At the door he was convinced someone was closing in on him. He panted rapidly, taking in shollow breaths. His hands trembled as he attempted to find the right keys. Keeping them steady as he tried to unlock the security door was almost impossible. He felt like he had no control over them. When the keys threatened to drop from his quivering hands he almost cried out in despair, but he got it open and amazingly managed to get the inner wooden door open even faster.

Inside, he locked the doors immediately and then leaned on them to support his trembling body. His knees buckled and he slid to the floor. Somebody wished him ill, he knew that much. Whether terrible things would happen to him in the near future was something he couldn't predict, and for the first time in his life he was more scared than he ever was of his abusive father when he was a child.

Chapter Three: The Dr. Day Club

2006-03-21T20:58:00.000+10:00

Chance woke up with a splitting headache. Of course, that was bound to happen considering the nasty bump on his head. The lump underneath the ice pack on his forehead felt like a raging volcano but the ice pack was very cool and soothing, it was held there with a few layers of bandage. He tried to sit up as he remembered what had happened the night before and a sharp pain sliced across the inside of his head. A doctor entered the room and smiled when he saw Chance was awake.

"Good, you're awake," the doctor said pleasantly, "But I want you to lie back down for now, I'm sure you'll have a mighty headache so it'll be a better position for you."

Chance laid back down. The doctor was right, it was a bit better, yet it was hardly a cure.

"Now, Dr. Day, I'll be your doctor for today and my name is Dr. Stephens," the doctor laughed as if he'd said something funny, "I don't normally get the chance to say doctor three times in a row. I must say, that is amusing."

"Good for you doctor," Chance said through his teeth.

"Oh, don't you worry, I'll just do some routine tests on you and then you can take these pills for your headache," Dr. Stephens said with a big smile, "You'll be fixed up in no time with these babies, they're full of industrial strength hospital grade goodness."

Dr. Stephens was really making him feel like a little kid. A little baby in fact. An image of himself lying on the bed in diapers sucking on a pacifier with Dr. Stephens standing over him and making baby sounds entered his head. He tried not to laugh and painfully succeeded.

After the doctor finished his examination he gave Chance the pills and a glass of water. He said, "The x-rays didn't show any damage as I'd suspected but I wanted to be sure when you woke up. It seems that bump on your head is just that, a bump on your head."

"That's good to know doctor, my headache was really beginning to worry me there for a moment," Chance said.

"You'll be absolutely fine, you can stay here until your headache is gone, then you can go home," Dr. Stephens said, "I imagine you have quite a busy life and something tells me you'll be under the spotlight today. Well, you and several other people."

"Thanks doctor," he said, "That's good news, the going home bit I mean."

"My pleasure Dr. Day," before the doctor left he said, "By the way, keep up the good work on your show, I utterly love it, we all listen to it here."

Shortly after, a slightly overweight nurse appeared, she said with a huge smile, "I'm so glad you're okay Dr. Day, I think we'd all be very upset if your show wasn't aired due to this dreadful and unnecessary incident."

"Thank you nurse," Chance said. The compliments he was receiving was making him a bit uncomfortable, he was never going to get used to it. "Even if something happens to me and I can't do my show the radio station has a few backup Psychologists to fill in for me. Luckily it hasn't ever come down to that."

"It just wouldn't be the same without you," the nurse said causing Chance's cheeks to redden, "Oh, and the young man who was on the motorbike wants to speak to you, I can tell him you're not feeling well if you like."

An image of sky blue eyes flashed across his mind. He said, "No, that's okay, I'll speak with him."

"Is there anything I can do for you then," the nurse asked, "Would you like some breakfast, or another pillow?"

"I'll be fine nurse, but thank you," Chance said.

She smiled at him again before she left. His headache was gradually disappearing. He could still feel a dull pain, it just wasn't as bad anymore.

"Dr. Day?" a soft voice called from the doorway.

When Chance turned his head to see who was at the door his breath caught in his throat. His heart must have gotten stuck there as well as it tried to leap out of his body. The strangest sensation overwhelmed him; it was like the feeling of contentment and satisfaction a person would get when they solved a puzzle. The man must have been about the same height as Chance, it was hard to tell without standing near him. He had a stocky frame and it was obvious that he was all muscle, yet he wasn't too muscular, not like a professional body builder. His hair was very short, the colour was somewhere between sandy blonde and light brown with highlights. His skin was smooth and lightly tanned. He wore a black leather riding jacket over a tight grey shirt. The well fitting jeans accentuated his masculine form and Chance struggled very hard not to stare at the man's crotch, which stuck out so prominently. Those blue eyes, bright and mesmerising looked at him questioningly.

Chance cleared his throat, he said, "Yes, that's me, come in."

The other man stepped into the room and stood beside his hospital bed. He was young, in his mid twenties and his face was even more breathtaking close up. A square jaw set below full lips and a slightly angular nose combined to create a rugged but soft face. His eyebrows were short and thick but in a nice way, not bushy or anything like that. Stubble shadowed his worried face.

"Firstly I want to say how sorry I am for what happened," the good looking man began, "I will take full responsibility and pay for all your expenses and any other damages. I'm really sorry, I wasn't thinking at all and I'll understand if you decide to sue me."

"Whoa, slow down tiger," Chance said with an amused smile after the man finished his spiel, "You can call me Chance, all that Dr. Day crap is really embarrassing. What's your name mate? You haven't told me that yet."

"Sorry I forgot to tell you, I don't know where my manners have gone to lately, it's Talan," he said.

Chance held his hand out for Talan to shake, "You won't need to worry about litigation, it was only a bump on the head and hardly anyone's fault."

Talan took his hand in a firm grip, his skin was soft and warm, he said, "I think the lady with you last night might have a different opinion."

"Who, Jessica? No, she's just overly protective of me. She does her job really well I suppose, a bit too well I think," Chance said, "Also, she has a major thing for me, which is downright scary sometimes but she maintains her professionalism, otherwise I wouldn't be able to handle working with her."

"That does explain a lot then," Talan mused to himself.

"And don't worry about expenses and all that stuff," Chance said reassuringly, "My health care should cover it."

Talan furrowed his eyebrows in thought, he said, "I still feel really bad about what happened. I really want to make it up to you somehow."

He imagined several ways Talan could make it up to him, but he cast those dirty those thoughts aside before he got carried away. Tentatively, almost as if he were asking for a date he said, "Well, how about we grab some breakfast and a hot drink, you look like you could use something in you."

Talan's face broke into a wide smile for the first time. His face transformed into the image of an angel and Chance's heart tried to leap out of his chest again. This man was so unbelievably beautiful he ached just looking at him.

"That would be great . . ." then his face fell into a frown, "But are you okay to? I mean is it okay with the doctors that you leave."

This time it was Chance's turn to smile, Talan's concern was touching and really cute, well, everything about the guy was cute, except for that crotch, now that was a dangerous distraction. If he'd caught sight of that while he was walking he'd probably trip over and land on his face. Boy was it an effort trying to avoid looking at it.

He cleared his throat again and took a deep breath, he said, "Yeah, definitely, the doctor gave me the all clear, I can leave whenever, well today, when my headaches gone, which it is, gone that is."

Chance looked upwards as if trying to see inside his head. Amazingly his headache was gone, the pain seemed to have completely disappeared when Talan arrived. He got out of the hospital bed and grabbed his shoes and other belongings stashed in a wire basket that was attached to the underside of the bed. He removed the bandage and the ice pack and placed them on the side table.

Talan was looking at the bump on his head with guilt written heavily on his face. He brought his hand up and stopped it just before it came in contact with Chance's forehead, and his arm suddenly froze in place as if from the realisation of what he was doing. Chance raised his hands up towards the bump and as he did his arm brushed against Talan's. As corny as it seemed, it felt like sparks erupted from the point of contact. Or maybe it was just static electricity. Either way, Talan jerked his hand back pretty quickly.

Abruptly, Talan asked, "Does it hurt?"

Chance poked the bump and winced, he said, "Yeah a bit. But I'll be okay. Anyway, about breakfast, there's a coffee shop across the road, we can go there."

Talan nodded his head. After signing some paperwork and some autographs at reception Chance was rushed by Jessica - who had just arrived - in a fierce but quick hug.

"I'm really happy you're okay," Jessica said, "I was so worried about you."

"Thank you Jessica." He noticed the hostile glare she was giving Talan, he said, "We've worked it all out, no one was to blame and it's all okay now."

Jessica looked at him in consideration, she said, "Are you sure, if that's how you really feel about it."

"I'm sure," Chance said, "Talan is actually a nice person, not a homicidal maniac."

Jessica laughed right on cue. After she finished she said casually, "There may be a few reporters waiting out front."

He groaned, sometimes Jessica took things a bit too far. He said, "Thanks for the heads up Jessica, I think I have a plan to get rid of them, it's always great to have some free publicity for the show anyway, why don't you both wait here, I won't be long."

Talan gave him a questioning look and Jessica seemed like she was going to say something but he headed out before they could object. Outside a congregation of reporters and their crew amassed towards him. They were like monkeys who all spotted a banana at the same time. He may work in the media, and his show sometimes required reporting, but at least he didn't prey on people's misfortunes to get a story. Everything he did for his show was geared towards helping people and educating them in a language anyone could understand.

A volley of questions sent his head in a spin trying to discern each separate one. He put his hands up, smiled and spoke so they could all hear, "Please, I have a bit of a headache, I would greatly appreciate it if you weren't too loud. As to the matter of what happened, no one was at fault, I merely lost my balance and hit my head, everything has been cleared up and resolved."

"Will you be initiating legal proceedings?" one reporter asked.

"That won't be necessary, this is only a minor accident and I wasn't hurt badly," he replied.

"So you didn't suffer any major injuries Dr. Day?" another reporter asked.

"Not at all, just a little bump and maybe a bruise," he said, "I'll be back to work tonight and Dr. Day's Late Night Sessions will continue to be aired on schedule at ten pm weeknights monday to friday on KPS FM."

After he made the plug for his show the questions dwindled down to trivial ones until they stopped altogether, and it wasn't long before the reporters left, disappointed that they didn't get a more sensational story. He wasn't going to appear on the front page headlines or make top story on the news, but at least they were off his back now.

He returned to the emergency waiting room and informed Talan and Jessica the paparazzi was gone. Talan seemed relieved and Jessica appeared to be slightly guilty.

"Well I better get back to the station, I have a lot to do today, I'll see you there later," Jessica said and left curtly.

"She really does mean well, I think," Chance said to Talan, "Anyway, let's get some breakfast, I'm really starving now."

The café across from the hospital was small and cosy, the seating was a bit crowded but there wasn't a lot of people for that time of the morning. They picked a table near the front of the window and the waitress arrived not long after to take their order. Chance ordered a simple breakfast of bran cereal with fruit and orange juice. Talan decided on an unbuttered tuna sandwich on multigrain bread with no condiments and a glass of water.

"Wow, you sure know how to look after yourself, mate," Chance observed.

"So do you Chance," Talan returned.

"Nah, I've just learned the hard way that I always end up paying for what I put in," Chance explained, "Eating healthy makes me shit regular and gives me more energy."

Talan blushed with embarrassment and looked away, he said softly, "You don't talk like you do on radio."

"Holy shit! Am I offending you with my language?" he asked, which prompted Talan to go even redder, and he laughed, "I am aren't I? I'm sorry, I'll stop doing it."

Talan ducked his head and looked up at him, he said "You don't have to, I was just surprised that you talked like that, I don't want you to go out of your way to curb your language on account of me."

"No, no, it's okay," Chance said as he finished laughing, "I can watch my language, it's not hard, I'm required to on air otherwise I'd get in a lot of hot water. I prefer talking without uttering a foul word anyway. For some reason I feel comfortable around you just like I do with my best friend, and he has a bit of a foul mouth on him, so I must have just fallen into that mode with you."

"What do you mean?" Talan asked for further explanation.

"Well, you know how depending on who you're with, you'll change the way you talk to suit the relationship you have with them? It's a lot like that, the way I react to you reflects the way I perceive you, and I guess I reacted to you like you were a close friend and consequently changed my style of speech to suit. I'm really sorry that I was a bit presumptuous," Chance said.

"You think of me as . . ." Talan stopped, almost too embarrassed to continue, ". . . a friend?"

The puppy dog eyes Talan looked at him with made him want to jump across the table and give him a big hug. This guy was too sweet to be true. Chance didn't think it was possible that such a guy existed, but here he was sitting across the table waiting for Chance to respond. He had the innocence of someone untainted by this cruel world.

"Yeah, sure, definitely, you seem like a really great bloke and I'd be honoured if you wanted to be friends," Chance replied.

"I'd like that," Talan said giving him a big smile, making him ache again.

Their food arrived and they finished eating quickly. Talan ate with a grace that was unpretentious and well-mannered without being self conscious. Chance concentrated on his food the whole time they ate because he didn't want Talan to think he was ogling the man, regardless of how much he wanted to.

"So what do you do for a living Talan?" Chance asked after he took a sip of juice.

"I'm a lawyer for a small law firm in town, I mainly do legal aid work though," Talan answered.

"I guess litigation wouldn't have ruffled your feathers then," Chance said, and as an afterthought, "Not that I was thinking of suing you."

"I suppose you could say I'm used to a court room," Talan said.

"What do you do for fun?" Chance continued his questioning, he wanted to know more about Talan, "I mean, do you go out much with your friends?"

Talan hesitated a moment before replying, he said, "No, I don't really, I haven't got too many friends, I've always been busy most my life, so I never really had time for the friends I had and we've kind of drifted apart now. But I do spend as much time as I can with my girlfriend."

Chance's heart sank. Damn, he wasn't gay. It always had to be that way; all the hot guys were straight and had girlfriends. Chance was still determined to become good friends. Guys like Talan were rare and he knew a friendship between them would be a privileged one.

"What's her name?" he asked.

"It's Cassandra," Talan said, and as if he was trying to convince himself he went on, "She's a really nice girl, really smart and pretty, she would never raise her voice at you for any reason, it's not her nature. She's very well spoken and has a good heart."

He risked being a bit more straightforward, "Do you love her, mate?"

Talan blinked, stunned by the question. He blushed and looked away.

"It's okay," Chance said giving the poor man a reassuring smile, "You don't have to answer that question, but something tells me you already know where you stand there. At least tell me you're having great sex, you've gotta be hanging in there for the wild sex?"

Talan was beginning to resemble a beetroot, he didn't think he could embarrass the man anymore.

"I, um, we, that is, I . . ." Talan was having serious trouble finding his tongue.

It dawned on him all of a sudden what was going on. He asked, "You have had sex right?"

Talan played with the glass of water and chewed on his bottom lip, and said without looking at him, "No."

"That takes a lot of courage to admit," Chance told Talan. He leaned forwards and said, "It's nothing to be ashamed of either mate, I myself have had limited experience, so my boat isn't far from yours."

Talan looked at him shocked, "That's hard to believe, you're a good looking man and with your celebrity status I wouldn't imagine finding a relationship would be hard for you."

"No, it's not hard, finding the right one is the hard part, mate," Chance said, "My friends also tell me I'm picky and I agree with them, but I just use that as an excuse to stay single, I kinda love my freedom."

"I think I know what you mean," Talan agreed. "You seem to be very honest with yourself Chance, I really like you."

If only Talan meant that in a context other than as a friend, Chance said, "I do too, buddy."

"You like me too?" Talan asked confused.

That would be a major understatement, Talan was so fine it was a miracle he didn't leap over the table and start licking that adorable face. He said hiding a grin at the image, "No mate, I like me too."

Talan laughed for the first time and the sound was like music. He vowed he would make his new friend laugh whenever he could, so he could hear the sweet sound escape those gorgeous lips and watch that beautiful joyous face.

Grinning, Talan said, "You're really funny."

"I try my best."

"I can't believe I'm friends with Dr. Day."

"You better believe it, bud, it's a very exclusive club."

"Is Jessica in the club?"

"Nah mate it's a male only club, and since I'm president of the Dr. Day club you gotta follow my rules."

"Can I leave the club then, I'm not good at obeying authority."

"Sorry mate, once you're in you can't get out, so you better respect my authoritaaay."

They laughed together in a moment that Chance wished would last forever. He could see how Talan was slowly opening up to him and how he was beginning to feel more comfortable to be himself. It wasn't that Talan was shy, he appeared more than capable of socialising in any circle, well, civil upper-class circles, but the man seemed like he didn't want to impose himself on other people and so limited his personality from others. That type of reservation was akin to a member of a royal family in the public eye. Chance had to stop psycho-analysing people who didn't need it, he just couldn't help it, the process was second nature to him.

He checked the time on his watch and realised it was almost midday. He had to get home to freshen up before heading back to work. He didn't want to part from Talan's company, he felt like he could sit there and stare at that handsome face and into those beautiful blue eyes in contentment all day. He had to earn a living somehow though and he loved his job anyway, so he wasn't going to start slacking off.

"I'm really glad I met you Chance," Talan said after he paid for their meal. He insisted it was the least he could do.

"I guess it wasn't such a bad thing that you tried to kill me then," Chance said.

"I am really sorry about that," Talan said, apologetic again.

"Hey man, don't be," he said placing a hand on the other man's firm muscular shoulder, "What I meant was, if last night hadn't happened we wouldn't be here now and I wouldn't have a great new friend."

Talan looked like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. He said thickly, "I agree."

"Breakfast was a pleasure mate, we should do it again. I'll give you my number," Chance said. They exchanged numbers and Chance noticed as Talan wrote his name he began to write his last name but then scribbled over it. Whatever it was it started with a K, surnames weren't important anyway.

"Call me anytime, I always answer my phone," Talan said.

"Okay mate, I'll call you soon and we'll do something," Chance said.

They said goodbye and parted ways. Chance called a taxi, deciding he'd use the radio station's credit account for once. As he sat down waiting for the taxi, the eerie sensation of someone watching his every move settled on him. He looked around but couldn't see anyone staring at him with that much interest. The feeling of someone's eyes on his back remained, even when he jumped into the taxi and headed home.

Chapter Two: Throwing Bones

2006-03-08T16:46:00.000+10:00

Talan Kedron believed that everybody deserved the benefit of the doubt. It was hard to believe his own girlfriend could actually be intimate with another man. His head hurt him too much to even think about it, so he pushed it out of his mind altogether. He wasn't going to start believing every scrap of gossip coming from such questionable sources as the socialites who mingled with his family. Of course, if he told his mother that she would have a stroke for sure! Those people were her livelihood, the regulars at her chain of very expensive Day Spa's. Most of those socialites were extremely influential and thus a great asset to his father's new career path.

His parents were the main reason he was even with Cassandra, after all they did play the matchmaker too often to count. The first girl he dated wasn't good enough for his mother and it didn't last long because of it. After that he resigned himself to letting his mother set him up instead. If she didn't put so much pressure on him he would still be single now. He cared for Cassandra quite deeply though and held a lot of affection for her. Still, he wasn't a fool, he knew he didn't love her, but he could see himself marrying her, growing old with her, raising a family with her and perhaps, eventually come to love her. In these modern times, love didn't always come into the picture and taking the next best thing was as good as it gets. He had no illusions about that.

"My, my, Son, aren't you a bit lonely out here by yourself?" his mother asked behind him.

Talan turned around, he said, "Out here I have the stars to keep me company Mum."

"Sure, if you like having one way conversations," his mother said, "Come inside now, you'll catch a cold if you stay here too long."

Talan conjured up a smile and positioned his arm for his mother to loop hers around. Together they walked back inside the mansion through the magnificent French doors and into the splendour of the entertainment hall.

"Look at all those women who pine for you Son," his mother whispered in his ears. It was true that many of the females looked their way as they walked in. So did most of the people there; his mother was a sight to behold in her silk gowns and glittering jewellery, they could just as easily be in awe of her beauty and grace. She chuckled lightly and continued, "Oh how many hearts you could break if I let you run loose!"

He smiled at her remark, she couldn't be further from the truth. Most of these women didn't have a personality that wasn't garnered from years of pretentious snobbery, but he respected her too much to disagree with her.

The entertainment hall was crowded with all manner of people. Most were of different occupations, the more important such is several High Court judges, members of parliament and prominent television personalities were being personally entertained by his father. Currying favour for his career Talan rather suspected. The hall was expansive and a large crystal chandelier hung on the high ceiling above them in the centre of the room. It was like a scene from a movie where the royalty would hold an extravagant ball for the local gentry, which wasn't far from the truth.

They hadn't always been so rich. He still remembered the days when he went to school with worn clothes, holes in his shoes and carried a dirty old school bag that resembled a potato sack. His father had struck a gold mine when a distant relative in England passed away and left them with a sizable inheritance. He remembered he was still a boy when that happened. The money wasn't a lot but the antiques that were left behind fetched a tidy sum. His father wasn't stupid, he invested it straight away until he had enough to start an enterprise that made him the owner of over a dozen successful apartment living resorts and also the owner of just as many sky rise buildings in Sydney. His mother's Day Spa business eventuated out of their success and branched out to become successful and highly profitable on its own. His father was still expanding, and only made the company public recently to buy out many more properties in his attempt to own Sydney under the banner of Kedron Incorporated.

His parents had to sacrifice a lot in order to get them to where they were. In fact, growing up he rarely ever saw his parents and he was mostly raised by a stern yet kind hearted nanny. He still loved his parents, he could never tell them how much he disliked this mansion they bought several years ago. It was too big and felt sterile to him, yet his parents were happy and as long as they stayed happy he didn't care.

Talan spied Cassandra making her way towards them. Smiling she said to his mother, "Marlene, do you mind if I take your handsome son for a dance?"

His mother offered his arm to her, "Be my guest dear."

Cassandra took his arm and led him to the dance floor. Talan placed his hand on Cassandra's waist and the other upon her shoulder.

"You always smell nice honey," Talan said taking in her aroma as they slowly danced.

"Thank you Talan," Cassandra said, "I never tire of your compliments."

He didn't want to bring it up the issue of the ghastly rumour he'd heard earlier, especially like this, but he had to know. He said, "I hear that you've been, um, spending a lot of time with, um, a male friend lately."

"What?" she pulled back to look at him, "Oh, silly, yes, I have, I forgot to tell you because you've been so busy with your work. My brother is visiting me from England for the first time and we've been catching up on everything."

A weight lifted from his shoulders, relieved he said, "That's great."

Cassandra give him a disapproving look, "Don't tell me you had the wrong idea, you know you're the only one for me."

"No, not at all, I didn't believe for a second you were like . . . that," Talan said.

"Good, because I want you to meet my brother soon, that is, when you're not busy," She said to him.

"Why didn't you invite him here tonight?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" she said, "He hates these things, says they're more posh than the Queen's public appearances."

Talan laughed softly, "I know what he means."

The orchestra finished playing the current score and Cassandra said, "I'm going to freshen up and get a drink, I should probably get going soon too, it's getting late."

"Okay then, I should probably check on my father to make sure he's not keeping his guests up late either," he said.

Talan walked up the marble staircase leading to the mezzanine level and spotted his father laughing boisterously. He made his way next to his father and nodded an acknowledgement to the other guests.

His father slapped him on his shoulder and gripped him there tightly. Talan conjured up another smile. His cheeks were going to be sore if these gatherings continued to occur with too much regularity.

"Isn't that right Son, you can never have too much of a good thing!" his father said to him.

"Yet there are too few good things to even enjoy too much of," Talan said tactfully. Throw these people a few pearls of wisdom and they'll gnaw on it like dogs with a bone. Of course these people weren't dogs, the expression just seemed appropriate.

"You see how wise my Son is," his father beamed proudly.

"That is absolutely right," someone said.

"Very true indeed," another person said and for a moment they all continued to interpolate on his insight.

"That is why," his father began, "I am considering appointing my son as CEO of Kedron Incorporated."

A buzz arose from everyone within hearing distance. People talked over one another as they all pondered the implications. Talan himself had plenty of questions running through his head. Instead he quietly asked his father, "What did you say?"

"Son there has never been a better time to bring you into the company, I just know you have what takes to succeed," his father said.

"Can I speak with you privately?" he asked.

His father led him to a corner for some privacy. He said, "You're not happy about my decision are you?"

"It's not that," Talan said, he sighed, "I just wish you'd asked me first, I mean I've got other commitments that won't easily be brushed off."

"You mean being a legal aid lawyer?" his father said disdainfully, "Honestly, I don't know what you see in that line of work, you don't even care about working your way up."

Talan took a deep breath, when his father imposed something on him he always managed to strike up a fair compromise. It seemed unlikely he could dissuade his father this time. He said, "Look Dad, at least give me the time to earn my way there, get a degree, start from the bottom and work my way up, you know how I feel about having things dropped on my lap."

His father scrutinised him for a moment, then he said, "You know, that's what I love about you, you've got a mighty pride and could never accept being handed things on a silver platter. I still think it would be best if you let me make you CEO of Kedron Incorporated."

"But Dad, I'm happy being a lawyer and I'm happy doing legal aid work . . ." he began.

"But nothing Son," his father cut him off, "You could have worked for any of the top legal firms in Sydney and maybe even become a high court judge one day like some of these fine people, yet you have no ambition, I don't get it."

"Perhaps I don't care about money and power," Talan said quietly as he stared at the floor.

"Is that really what you think about me?" his father said, a dangerous tone entering his voice, then more gently, "I'm going to forget I heard that. Maybe you should go home and think about what I'm offering you, all I want is my son to take over my business when I retire, why don't you go home and think about it?"

Talan did just that. He decided not to stay and argue with his father, he'd never seen his father in a bad mood but he was pretty sure he could come close to bringing it out of him. He was too upset to even say goodbye to anybody after grabbing his leather jacket and helmet. He had the helmet on before he reached his motorbike and as soon as he hopped on he had it started and revved up. Leaving in a squeal of burning tyres he rode out of his parents mansion and headed towards his apartment in Sydney.

All his life he'd somehow managed not to accept too many handouts from his parents. With the exception of having his law degree paid for him, he pretty much survived on his own resources. In law school he took a job working at the city's brewery to pay for his study expenses and so he could move out and live independently. The money was good and he was never short on cash. Yet his parents still gave him a platinum credit card and bought him a ridiculously expensive Porsche. He never used the credit card and he bought a motorbike as an excuse not to drive the Porsche.

How could his father have the nerve to know what was best for him, after all, he never raised him. His nanny, God rest her soul, taught him everything he now knew about what was right and wrong, and what it meant to be a real man. She told him many stories about her deceased husband and Talan always strove to be as virtuous as that man. His father wouldn't know the first thing about him. He knew his father meant well, both his parents did, they always tried to do what was best for him, what they couldn't understand was that the best thing for him wasn't always the right thing for him.

So he rode through the streets of Sydney, attempting to take his mind off his father's imposition. As he entered an intersection a few blocks from his apartment he turned left without thinking and forgot to check for any pedestrians. He noticed a dark haired man sporting a goatee laughing with another lady as he took a step onto the street. The man saw him just in time to stop himself from taking another step and Talan passed him with only inches to spare. Talan's heart started racing and he thanked God he didn't run the man over. Talan slowed down quickly and looked back to make sure the man was okay. The dark haired man looked like he was struggling to keep from falling into the other woman's exceptionally large breasts, and in his attempt to evade them he ended up bumping his head into the traffic light pole with extreme force, then he landed heavily onto the sidewalk.

Talan turned his bike around to see if the man needed any assistance. Feelings of guilt were already starting to overcome him. The scantily clad woman with the large breasts was kneeling over the man worriedly. After getting off his bike he made his way towards them and the woman looked up at him with fury in her eyes.

"You careless bastard, don't you bikies have any concern for other people!?" she screamed at him.

He held his hands up palms outwards, he said, "I'm sorry, it was an accident."

A few people had gathered around now, curiosity mingled with concern.

"Do you know what you've done, do you know who this man is!?" she screamed at him shrilly.

"There's no need to shout miss, I'm sure it's best we call the ambulance first," Talan suggested.

"I'm not stupid you imbecile, but you should know that this man is no other than Dr. Day from KPS FM, and if he has to be hospitalised and can't present his shows a lot of people are going to be very disappointed, and then you'll hear from our lawyers, no, you will hear from our lawyers," the woman said. He refrained from telling her he was a lawyer, he didn't want another mouth full from her. In a huff she took out her mobile phone and dialled for an ambulance.

As the woman spoke on her mobile, Talan leaned down to take a closer look at Dr. Day. He wore a green military shirt and fashionable jeans. His hair was cut trendily and styled in a messy look. His goatee was kept very neat and the rest of his facial hair from his sideburns down to the goatee was also neat and closely trimmed. He looked young, a lot younger than he would have guessed from his soothing deep radio voice. The doctor's eyes seemed to shift around and it looked like he couldn't focus properly. Then his eyes steadied and focused. Talan leaned down and lifted his visor to get a better look at him.

"Are you okay?" Talan asked Dr. Day, "Can you hear me?"

The man mustn't have heard. He smiled and said, "Mmm, blue."

Talan couldn't help but smile himself. He was about to say something but the doctor's eyes went out of focus, then he promptly went unconscious.

"Shit," Talan swore under his breath. He didn't usually swear but he was sure this time he could make an exception. He continued swearing, "Damn it, bloody hell."

He stopped when he realised people were still watching. When he looked up he saw that a small crowd had gathered. The woman was glaring at him venomously and he could pick out a few stray words being passed around. The most common ones he heard were 'idiot', 'ran over', and 'Dr. Day'. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. When he first heard the woman say the man he almost ran over was Dr. Day he couldn't understand the importance of who she was referring to, but then it slowly sunk in as he remembered the rising star of KPS FM's new psychological help show. Even his mother enjoyed listening to the show when she found the time and admittedly he himself listened sometimes as he fell asleep. The man gave extremely good advice and it was accessible to all kinds of people regardless of age, sex or social status. His shows were always relevant and informative, and he also seemed to help a lot of the people who called for his advice. To think he may deprive the people of Sydney of a very important person. His face flushed red with heat and shame at the thought.

"Shame on you young man," a middle aged woman scolded him, echoing his thoughts, "Dr. Day is such a nice gentleman, why, my husband and I listen to his shows all the time. You better pray for God to forgive this transgression of yours."

Murmurs of agreement spread through the crowd. Talan was beginning to feel he'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, there was nothing for it now. He was going to have to make sure Dr. Day would make it through okay. He was even willing to pay for the damages and accept legal responsibility. The fault was his after all, he knew that the causation could be attributed to his negligence.

"Yeah, I called up for his help once when I was in a rut," an emotional male voice said. Talan looked around to see a young man in tears, "The doctor helped me get my shit together and I swear if Dr. Day doesn't get through this, you're gonna pay for it."

What the heck! Somehow he managed to cause the doctor's injuries in the vicinity of several of the doctor's devoted fans. Great. Fortunately the sounds of an approaching siren saved him from any more mortal threats. The paramedics did their work and he followed them to the hospital on his motorbike.

The emergency waiting room had a few other distressed looking people waiting for news of their loved ones, so it was fairly quiet. That was until the woman with the large breasts came storming in followed by a band of reporters and cameramen hot on her heels. He groaned and braced himself for the worst. In the past he'd dealt with the media due to his line of work, and like any other lawyer he had his fair share of them. This was going to be bad. No matter what he said they would still manage to twist his words and make him look guilty. All he could do was say as little as possible and keep a neutral expression. His father wasn't going to be happy with him.

The huge breasted woman pointed at him and said quite loudly, "That's the man who ran over Dr. Day."

A stream of paparazzi came at him like a swarm of flies. A dozen questions were fired at him and countless camera flashes near blinded him. He took a deep breath and said calmly, "It is not true that I ran over Dr. Day, though I did nearly have a collision with him and in avoiding the collision Dr. Day unfortunately hit his head on a traffic light pole. I am prepared to take full responsibility for being the cause of his injuries. Thank you."

Then more questions, mostly asking who he was or what his name was.

"My name is Talan Kedron," he said clearly.

Shocked exclamations and gasps escaped the reporters. Some of them dropped their mics and Dictaphones. Then they erupted in a barrage of a hundred different questions. Yep, his father wasn't going to be very happy with him at all. He was finally saved by the hospital staff when they ushered the media out with threats to sic security on them.

The woman with the enormous breasts remained behind smiling at him maliciously. He said to her, "I'm glad you're having fun, you didn't have to get the media involved."

"But darling," she purred at him, "They would have caught up with you sooner or later. I just decided to save you the trouble."

Talan refused to play her game. He decided to ignore her instead. When she received no response from him she went to speak to the nurse at reception.

"Hi, I'm Jessica Barker, Dr. Day's personal secretary," she introduced herself to the chubby female nurse before handing a card over, "I have informed his family and his flatmate of the situation and I'll be back in the morning to check on his status, but could you please contact me on that mobile number if he wakes up before then."

"I'll be glad to do that Jessica," the nurse assured her.

Jessica thanked her and said she had to leave and get everything ready for the coming media storm. As she passed Talan she said to him threateningly, "You'll be hearing from the station's lawyers."

Talan sighed. That woman was really mean. He was about to question the nurse on Dr. Day's condition but she glared at him so he decided to give it some time before he asked. He sat down on the hard plastic seats and lamented over the recent events as the hours passed. He could not have chosen any worse a time to come under the eye of the media in such a negative way. He was positive things would work out though, his father would understand. Hopefully Dr. Day would understand as well. He wouldn't blame the doctor if he hated Talan for nearly killing him. He really hoped Dr. Day was going to be alright, he didn't know how he would live with himself if things turned out to be bad. The night's events were taking a toll on him and he found himself leaning his head against the wall with his eyes closed. The sun would be up soon and he knew he should stay awake. There was no telling if that evil woman Jessica would slip some poison into his mouth while he slept but sleep overtook him anyway and he dreamt of himself riding down an endless road in a barren land on his motorbike. Every now and then in his dreams he would see the face of Dr. Day but whenever he tried to look closer the doctor would disappear.

When he woke up he felt disoriented and it took him a moment to recall where he was and what had happened. He checked the time and saw it was close to nine o'clock. A man with short frayed brown hair and beady eyes sat next to him playing with a Dictaphone.

"I was recording you while you were sleeping," the man said in a whispery and slight reedy voice.

Talan was slightly disturbed by that, "Okay, um, I don't understand."

"Well you see," the strange man said, "I find people more interesting when they're asleep, the noises they make are positively fascinating."

The skin on Talan's body crawled all over with goosebumps. The hair on the back of his neck also stood on end. Alarm bells rang in his head and his whole body screamed for him to run and be as far away from this man as possible. That was strange considering he'd never been scared for his life before and he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

"I'm glad I could entertain you," Talan said warily. He glanced at the Dictaphone again and noticed the 'ABC Radio' sticker on it. Relief settled on him but he still couldn't shake the peculiar feeling he had about the man.

"No, No, I must thank you," the beady eyed man said, "Your slumberous noises were quite entertaining indeed. I feel like I know you a bit more now, Talan Kedron, is it?"

The man was still creeping him out, he said, "Yes that's right."

"Your father is a business genius and you are a well known legal aid lawyer, a good one at that may I add," the strange man said, and in a little chant he went on, "Little rich boy, wants to be emancipated, won't take daddy's money, wants to make his own path."

He didn't think his past actions reflected his personal life that obviously. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he knew people often questioned his choice to constantly take up work for legal aid.

He saw the nurse walking up to him but he stood and met her halfway. She said with barely hidden distaste, "Dr. Day is awake and conscious now, visiting hours are from eight to ten, you cannot see him without his permission though."

"Okay, great, can you tell him I want to speak with him for a moment I really want to apologise to him," Talan said.

"Humph, I guess that's a start," the nurse said, "Why he would even want to talk to the man who almost killed him is beyond me, Dr. Day is such an intelligent man, I wouldn't blame him if he refused to see you."

At that she turned on her heels and left. How was it possible for one person to have this many loyal fans. It was unbelievable. It was also unheard of considering Australia's affliction with the tall poppy syndrome. He shook his head and looked around for the strange man from before. He was nowhere in sight and Talan thought nothing more of the man as he waited for the nurse.

Chapter One: A Chance Encounter

2006-03-04T16:09:00.000+10:00

Sometimes in his dreams, he dreams of a superhero who takes him high above the clouds where no one can touch him. He cannot see the face of his superhero, but he knows it is familiar. In his dream they drift higher above the clouds and into the darkness of space, he knows that his superhero would never let him fall, wrapped in strong arms he is secure and protected. Floating through nothing he can feel the love that emanates from his superhero, and his own love radiates back in return. Nothing else matters, nothing else exists but the two of them. He can feel the steady beat of his superhero's heart and he knows that as strong as his superhero is, underneath lay a heart as fragile as his own and just as vulnerable to damage. So he silently vows to protect it as his superhero protects him. When the morning light wakens him from his slumber, he reaches his hand out to the pillow beside him, but his hand brushes only air. His superhero is not with him. He never was. The dream seems so real that he can still feel those strong arms around him, feel the unconditional love meant for only him. His heart aches with so much longing for a love that is more real in his dreams than he has ever felt in his life.

Chance had that same dream again. Taking a deep breath, he sighed heavily. Lately it seemed more and more like the best part of his life was spent asleep. He was really beginning to get sick of having the same dream all the time. Not that he had them often, this was probably the fourth or fifth time, yet the intensity of those feelings left a residue in his waking moments that served as a reminder of his lonely existence. He never liked to think about his love life - or the lack of it, but something always managed to shine a spotlight on the part of his life where a never-been-filled gaping hole resided. Chance was twenty-six years old. Some would say he was still in the prime of his life, while others would say he was nearing the end of it. To date, he had never been in a serious relationship before. He liked to tell people that he was bisexual, yet even broadening his options had yet to increase the likelihood of meeting that someone special. If truth be told, he really preferred men; women were more of a headache than they were worth. His friends tell him his standards are too high, that he should just get out there, meet people and see how it goes. If another truth be told, he really didn't want to. He'd tried too many times in the past and those relationships never went anywhere. His standards probably were too high. His concept of the ideal relationship, whether it be with a guy or girl, was something out of corny chick flick, and so he felt it was ultimately unachievable.

Pushing his miserable thoughts aside, he jumped out of bed before he could depress himself any further. After a quick shower he trimmed his facial hair with an electric trimmer - he hated to shave when he didn't have to. Newly formed stubble was always itchy and bothersome. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, into brown eyes that blended into the darkness of his irises. He looked like an adolescent scarcely out of high school. At least he did when he shaved. His facial hair added a few more years to what he would look unshaven, which was also part of the reason he didn't shave much. For as long as he could remember, he had always looked younger than he actually was, some people had been shocked beyond belief upon discovering his real age. Opening a jar of styling cream he scooped up a generous amount into his fingers and worked it through his damp short black hair rapidly, pulling bits in different directions to give it a messy look. After washing his hands he quickly dressed himself in navy blue jeans and his favourite dark green army shirt.

In the kitchen his roommate was already eating breakfast. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading as Chance entered.

"Good morning Master Day," Jon said. For some reason Jon would often address his friends by preceding their surnames with 'Master'. It used to irritate Chance when he first began doing it, though he never let Jon see how annoying it was. Now he was pretty much used to it, along with all the other nicknames Jon liked to give him.

"Jonny," Chance said. He knew his friend hated being called that and at times he would use it as a cue for an ensuing dialogue. He continued, feigning disbelief, "Where's the bacon and eggs?"

"Well my friend," Jon played along, "You haven't started cooking it yet, so I suggest you get right on it."

"Ah, but mate, you know that you make the best bacon and eggs," He countered.

"Nah, they're never as good as yours," Jon quipped. Checkmate. His friend always had to get the last word in. Even if Chance managed to craft a good come back, Jon never accepted defeat, regardless of whether he made sense or not.

Chance poured himself some cereal and a glass of juice for breakfast. He sat down at the table and began eating.

From behind the newspaper, Jon asked, "No bacon and eggs then?"

"You don't deserve any mate," He said matter-of-factly, "You're not worth the effort."

"After everything I've done for you, that's how you treat me," Jon said in a serious voice underlined with a hint of joviality, "By telling me I'm not worth it."

"Stop talking shit dude," Chance said grinning, "I don't see a ring on my finger, so go use your charms on someone stupid enough to fall for it."

He imagined his friend walking around with shit dribbling out of his mouth and grinned widely. The headline on the front page of the newspaper Jon was reading suddenly caught Chance's attention and he began to read it. There were fears that an impending terrorist attack was due for Sydney according to intelligence sources. Such attacks had been predicted ever since the London train bombings, yet so far nothing has happened, which was a good thing, but the fear of an attack was hardly going to stop him from venturing into the city.

Feigning indignation Jon continued the verbal battle, he said, "My friend, you know I don't talk shit."

Chance didn't respond. He was semi-engrossed in the newspaper article and his cereal. Jon lowered the newspaper to look at him.

"What are you doing?" Jon asked.

"Hey, I was reading that!" Chance exclaimed, "Hold it back up again!"

"Hold it yourself you lazy bastard!" Jon said incredulously and threw the paper at him. He laughed as he caught the newspaper. A few pages fell to the ground and he scooped them up.

"What time are you heading to work today?" His friend asked as he took his dishes to the sink to wash.

The clock above the kitchen stove showed the time to be a bit after nine. He said, "I dunno, probably around three o'clock."

"You're lucky you get to go to work whenever you want," Jon said.

Chance worked as a radio presenter. He produced an hourly show five nights a week for one of Sydney's most popular talkback radio stations, KPS FM. His program 'Dr. Day's Late Night Sessions' aired nightly on weekdays and dealt with psychological issues. People would mainly ring up to talk about their problems and he would try to help them out as best he could. Of course it did help having a degree in Psychology to lend credibility to his advice. Being a radio presenter would have to be the best job Chance had ever had because it combined two of his favourite interests - media and psychology.

"It's not exactly like that dude," Chance said, "You know I only get paid for the time I'm on air."

"Yeah, and the average Joe would make in a week what you do in one night," Jon said, he finished washing his dishes and put them on the dish rack to dry. "If I got paid that much, I'd only work an hour a day too."

"Come on man, there's a lot of research and preparation that goes into each show and I don't get paid for that time, so it works out pretty fair," Chance said defensively, "Besides, you should know dude, you do a lot of hours too that you don't get paid for as a private investigator."

"I know, I was only messin' with ya," Jon said grinning at Chance while he dried his hands with a tea towel.

"Like I said," Chance reiterated, "You're full of shit."

"No Master Day, I am definitely not full of that. Later Doc," Jon grabbed his car keys and headed out before Chance could reply.

When he finished breakfast and cleaned after himself, he spent the rest of the morning doing the laundry so that his clothes would have the rest of the day to dry. Living independently wasn't easy. There were always chores that needed to be done. Carpets to vacuum. Floors to sweep. Toilets to clean. Thankfully Jon was mostly tidy and they did their best to share the cleaning duties.

The phone rang shortly after midday. Chance was in the middle of watching a mediocre episode of Dr. Phil and was badly imitating the man's Texan accent to entertain himself.

"Hello?" Chance said imitating Dr. Phil.

"Chance," a female spoke, "Is that you?"

He instantly recognised his sister's voice, he said, "Janelle? How are you?"

"I'm fine," Janelle said, "What about you?"

"Yeah, good as always," Chance said, "Everything's going well here in Sydney. Can't complain."

"That's good," Janelle commented.

A moment of silence hung between them. Finally, Chance asked, "How's mum doing?"

His sister sighed and took a moments thought before responding. Then slowly, she said, "Well, it's hard to tell. She hasn't gotten any worse, but there are times when she forgets some really simple things. A few times she's forgotten where she puts things and once she cleaned the floors after I'd already done it, even though she saw me do it."

"I did notice she was a bit forgetful when I last lived with her, but it was nothing serious," he said. He knew his sister could worry too much at times.

"I know, but when I told her I'd already cleaned the floors she said she thought I did it a few days before even though she saw me do it that morning," Janelle explained.

Chance squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a few seconds. They both worried that their mother's mind would fall apart someday. Forgetfulness was a common thing in everyone. They didn't like to think that something terrible could or would happen to their mother, but she was in her senior years and it could indicate any number of illnesses that affected the elderly.

He said, "If you're really worried then I suppose you could take her for a check-up. Ask the doctor to book her in for neural scans, but try and be casual about it, you don't want to alarm mum, if you do she may try and resist the check-up."

"I will then, thanks for the advice," Janelle said. Then she asked, "You know why I called you though?"

"Um," Chance tried to think of possible reasons but they were mostly negative and so he didn't voice them. He decided against guessing and replied, "Nope, I give up, what's the reason for the call?"

"It's just like you not to remember," his sister said in disapproval. "Tomorrow will be a year since ... you know."

It didn't take long for Chance to recall the significance of tomorrow's date. Tomorrow would be the first anniversary of his father's death.

Chance said, "Oh yeah, were we supposed to do something for it?"

"Well, we were going to visit the cemetery," Janelle said, "But you don't have to come down, I just wanted to remind you, that's all."

"Oh ok, thanks then," he said, "I would fly down to Adelaide but it isn't that easy with my job."

"I know," Janelle said, "We didn't expect you to come down. Just try and call more often, the kids ask about you, you know, they're always asking if you're coming back down to visit. And mum would be happy to hear from you too, I'd put her on now but she's having a nap at the moment."

"I'll do my best then," Chance said.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later then." They said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone.

Sitting himself back down on the sofa, Chance stared off into space as he recalled those events a year ago. The memories were crystal clear as if they had happened only recently.

* * *

The ceremony was almost over and Chance was beginning to feel tired. It felt as if time had gone into slow motion and would never return to normal speed again. People were lining up to give their last respects or say their last words before the coffin was lowered into the ground and buried. His mother was crying again. She looked terrible with her red-rimmed eyes, yet that was to be expected.

Janelle walked up to him, her eyes were also red from crying. She said, "They'll lower the casket soon, don't you want to say any last words?"

"I hardly think he would be able to respond," Chance said. Janelle narrowed her eyebrows. He quickly went on to keep her from chastising him like he knew she would, "Besides, I'm not the sentimental type."

"That time a few years ago, when you said you wouldn't cry at his funeral, I didn't think you meant that," Janelle said, "Why were you so hard on him? You know all he wanted was to be able to talk to you."

"I don't see why he didn't," Chance said indifferently, "Nothing was stopping him."

"He thought you were punishing him," Janelle said, her voice was becoming unsteady as if she was about to cry, "Because of the mistakes he made. I know that these last few years he's thought about you a lot, but you never even acknowledged his existence. You could have at least tried to talk to him, I can't believe you ignored him for almost thirteen years, even when you lived under the same roof you ignored him."

Chance glanced at his watch absently without noting the time. "Look, like I said, nothing was stopping him from talking to me, but I just felt like there was nothing for me to say to him. I mean, what did you expect after the kind of childhood we had? That I come home from university and we start exchanging that days events?"

He was beginning to feel irritated by the conversation, but he managed not to let it show.

His sister said, "At least everybody else here shed a tear, how can you be so heartless?"

"That would require that I actually felt something Janelle," Chance said to her as if stating the obvious.

"As much as you hated him, he was still our father and -,"

Chance cut her off, "I never hated him, there were times when I was younger that I did hate him, but I never loved him either, most of the time I felt nothing for him."

"How can you say that?" his sister asked shocked. "Especially now, at this place and time."

"I never loved him in life, don't expect me to love him in death," Chance said callously.

Janelle stared at him like he was a complete stranger. Her lips pressed tightly together as if refraining herself from making a remark. She left then, leaving him standing by himself again. There wasn't much more she could do to convince him to show a bit of emotion.

* * *

There was no point in brooding about the past now. He knew his life had not always been perfect, few people ever lived perfect lives, if that was ever possible. He was getting his own life back on track now, to where he wanted to be, to where he was happy to be. The flashback was about to bring his mood down again so he decided to go to work early. At least there were people to talk to at the radio station. And there was always the opportunity to bump into some celebrities. Chance loved bumping into famous people, especially the cute ones. The celebrities he came across were always thrilled to see him rather than the other way around, apparently he was more well known and popular than he thought, but he always chalked it down to the brilliant production team he worked with. Without them his show wouldn't have the snazzy appeal he loved about it, and judging by the reaction he received from people when they found out who he was, it seemed he had fans out there who loved the show as much as he did. Although people saw him as a celebrity, he never felt like one. He was always embarrassed when people asked for his autograph, not that it happened often, thankfully he was only well known for his radio show, his advice and to a lesser extent his voice when people recognised it on the odd occasion. Which meant keeping his identity private wasn't a hard task at all. He also only volunteered his name when he absolutely had to.

Chance caught the train to work just like most other days, even though he owned a car. He preferred public transport because traffic was always hectic during the day in the city regardless of peak times. Granted he could always catch a taxi and charge it to the KPS FM credit account he and a few other presenters had the privilege of using, but he hated to abuse that privilege, and besides, it was a bother having to keep a record and receipt for every time he used it.

Stepping through the automatic doors of Radio Station KPS always felt like he was coming home rather than going to work. Not that he had automatic glass doors at home, though it was a really good idea, he imagined living in a house with such doors instead of normal ones for a moment before he shook his head and discarded the fancy. He really did need to stop daydreaming. Perhaps the reason why the station felt like home was because he spent most of his time here. His office was quite spacious and the sofa was unbelievably comfortable to sleep on for a sofa. He even kept some spare clothes in the bottom filing cabinet drawer in case he did end up sleeping here - plus it was good to have them close to hand in case he spilt garlic sauce on himself and then somehow ended up bumping into a really cute celebrity. Like he once did.

Everyone at the station was either nice or a real character. They always said hello and goodbye, and most were interesting to talk to, he was never short on the latest news and gossip as long as he worked there. The Station Manager was also a great guy. He was always listening to the station on his iPod with one earbud, presumably to keep tabs on what his station was broadcasting.

Afterwards, when Chance had wrapped up his radio show and was about to leave for the train station, he was stopped by his personal secretary, Jessica, who took care of his administrative matters, organised his schedules and answered incoming calls for his show. She was quite a beauty and had an air of sexuality about her that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. She always wore revealing clothes and tonight was no exception. She flicked her hair and played with her necklace in an attempt to draw his attention towards her voluptuous breasts as she asked him if he wanted to grab a drink with her. Her breasts were nice. And big. And round. And ready to poke his eyes out from the way she kept arching them out towards him. He could not understand how she refused to believe he was gay, well bisexual but he told her he was gay for the sake of getting her off his back. He was simply not interested in her. In fact he couldn't really remember the last time he was interested in a female. Maybe he was losing interest in them altogether. Jessica looked at him coyly as she waited for a response, if she was any more insistent he would have to put her up for sexual harassment. Thank the heavens she actually managed to stay professional - while being flirty. He politely refused her invitation so she offered to walk halfway to the train station with him instead where she had her car parked.

They talked idly as they walked along the street together. Sydney had an active nightlife so there were still people walking along the sidewalks. Jessica laughed at a few of the things he said and kept looking sidelong at him with bedroom eyes that just screamed 'ravish me'. Uh, no thanks, Chance thought to himself, she was definitely not his type. Chance chuckled to himself at the thought and Jessica laughed with him.

They reached a set of traffic lights and the pedestrian crossing lights had suddenly turned green. Absently and without checking for stray motorists who didn't always obey traffic signals, he stepped onto the street while still laughing, and watching Jessica giggle at him laughing, and wondering if there was nothing he said she wouldn't laugh at. It was only at the moment he took a step onto the street when the sound of an approaching motorbike registered in his head. In the same instant he swung his head around just in time to see the motorbike turning left through the pedestrian crossing. Chance barely halted his next step, but in trying to avoid a collision with the biker he put too much force in reversing his direction and instead he was heading for a collision with Jessica's enormous breasts. All he could think about was how he could get his head stuck inside that valley of a cleavage and never get it out. Strangely a vision of Jessica walking around with his body protruding from her cleavage came to mind which promptly caused him to pivot and force himself in another direction. Unfortunately it was towards the traffic light pole. The impact was painful to say the least and the fall to the pavement hurt almost as much. He was lying on his back and he could hear shouting, at first it was loud enough to hurt his ears but then it gradually seemed more distant. Stars swam across his field of vision and the city lights became blinding as he tried to steady his vision. He could see Jessica, well two, no three of her, which did not bode well for how many breasts she was sprouting at that moment. Then a dark round object filled his view, his vision cleared a moment for him to see it was a motorbike helmet. The person wearing it lifted the visor and Chance stared into the most mesmerising blue eyes he had ever seen on any man.

Chance smiled unaware and said out loud, "Mmm, blue."

His vision blurred again and the stars began to swim faster. Then he blacked out.