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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
Words:
1,785
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
13
Hits:
1,236

Choices

Summary:

Drew thinks about the decisions he's made in the past, and is suddenly offered a very new and different kind of choice.

Work Text:

It was Friday night, and Drew Carey was drunk.

He'd been sitting in the Warsaw, alone, for most of the night. In the past few weeks,
he'd made what had to be the worst set of mistakes of his entire life -- marrying Nikki,
then marrying Kate, and then trying to hide each wife from the other while trying to
figure out who he really wanted to be with. It had all come out in the end, of course. By
the time he'd finished his soul-searching and chosen Kate, each woman had learned what
he'd done. Kate and Nikki had both left him.

Now Drew was despondent, drunk, and alone in the bar he'd been spending way too
much time in lately. But at least the alcohol could dull his feelings down to a hazy, bland
numbness...it was much better than being sober. If he was sober, he would have to face
what he'd done to himself, his friends, his life.

He stared down into his glass. All he wanted to do was to forget, just for a little while,
everything that had happened -- the never-ending problems at work, the summer in the
institution, the fact that the one woman he'd ever really loved never wanted to see him
again...

"Drowning your sorrows?" asked a friendly voice from nearby.

Drew looked up, surprised that anyone had the inclination -- or the courage -- to come up
to him while he was sending out such obvious -I want to wallow in my own self-pity'
signals. He was more surprised to see it was Eugene Anderson, an old acquaintance from
work who'd since moved on to bigger and better things. Drew wasn't drunk enough to
not notice the spark of concern in the other man's eyes.

Drew pushed his nearly empty glass around in a small circle on the tabletop, then laughed
weakly, trying to make light of the situation. "Yeah, I guess so."

Eugene made a noncommittal sound. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

Drew shrugged. "Sure, go ahead," he sighed. "You're probably the only person who
doesn't mind being seen with me right now."

The other man raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a chair. "What do you mean?"

Drew shook his head. "You wouldn't want to hear it."

"No, no, I would," he replied, sitting down and shifting his chair a little closer to Drew's.
"What's up? I heard you were made manager of the new Winfred-Louder women's store,
but when I went by today to congratulate you, you weren't there."

Drew looked down. "That kind of fell through."

"You wanna talk about it? You look like you could use a sympathetic ear, and it would
probably make you feel better." Eugene motioned for the waitress, requesting two more
beers. "I'm not going anywhere."

At first reluctant, Drew soon found himself telling Eugene everything. The problems at
work with both Mimi and Wick; the institution; the horrible mistakes he had made with
Nikki and Kate, and how he was paying the price for them now. It was almost a relief to
have someone to talk to, but at the back of his mind, he couldn't believe he'd come to
this. Confessing his sins to someone he wasn't even that close to...to someone who was
probably only there because of a passing attraction a few years ago.

It was amazing, he thought derisively, what the combination of self-pity and alcohol
could do to your inhibitions. Or your pride.

"Oh, Drew," sighed Eugene, when he'd finally finished his story. With a half-sad, half-
helpful expression, he began rubbing Drew's shoulder. It was totally non-sexual and
non-threatening, but even so, Drew was kind of glad that by now the bar was nearly
empty. If Eugene noticed the slight apprehension, he didn't say anything about it. "I
know things look bad right now, but trust me, they'll get better. I know. They say that
time heals all wounds...maybe that's just what Kate needs, time to think about
everything. You're a good man, Drew; don't let anyone tell you different."

"Yeah, right," Drew snorted. "Kate said she never wants to see me again. She won't
return my phone calls, she's not even coming to the Warsaw anymore. I don't know
what I'm going to do..."

Eugene regarded him pensively. "I think the first thing you should do is go home and get
some rest." Then he smiled. "You want to wake up nice and fresh for your hangover
tomorrow morning," he teased gently.

"I don't want to wake up tomorrow morning. I just want to sleep until everything's back
to normal. I want things to be the way they used to be."

Eugene shook his head. "Come on. I'll take you home."

"I can still drive," Drew protested...weakly, since he was glad for the company. Being
alone right now, after all the soul-searching and gut-spilling, would only make him more
miserable. He didn't object any more when Eugene led him to his car.

"Why did you want to see me today?" Drew asked, once they were on their way. He'd
wondered about that earlier, but at that time he'd been too involved in talking about his
problems to really think about much else. Now that there was comparative silence, the
question raised itself again. Eugene was gay, or at least bisexual -- he'd seen a wedding
ring when he'd first been introduced to the other man a few years ago -- and since then
he'd let his attraction to Drew be known on several occasions. He wondered if he was
seeing anyone now, and if he was, why he'd come to the Warsaw alone on a Friday night.

"Like I said, to congratulate you," said Eugene. "After all, you got me the job I have
now. Old friends should keep in touch."

Drew didn't buy it...but for some reason, it didn't bother him very much. He'd probably
seen the story in the paper that Nikki had written. "You're sure you didn't come by just
to see the impotent bisexual bigamist?" he said dourly.

Eugene laughed. "Well, I have to admit that I was a little intrigued...especially about the
-bisexual' part." He smiled again, somehow managing to look both mischievous and shy
at the same time. It was certainly appealing; Drew wondered how he did that.

"That was just so Mr. Wick could stay in the country -- no woman would marry him, and
he promised to give me my job back..." he replied. "Sounds pretty pathetic, doesn't it."

Eugene shook his head again. "Oh Drew, you really need to get out of that place. All
these years you've worked there, and you haven't gotten a shred of the recognition or
reward you deserve. That place would probably be closed, or bankrupt, if it weren't for
you."

Drew frowned as he considered this. "You really think so?"

"Yes." Then, as they pulled up in front of Drew's house, "We're here."

Drew looked down again, staring at his hands in his lap. It was nice, for a change, having
someone fairly intelligent to talk to. Someone pleasant. Someone who would simply
listen and not judge him, someone who didn't care that he'd been sent to the funny farm,
or that he was in a go-nowhere job, or that he'd married another man...

"You, um, you wanna come in? I have beer, and pretzels, and some leftover pizza in the
fridge," he said.

Eugene looked into his eyes, holding them. "Well, I could've had all that at the bar, but
yes. Yes, I'd like that," he said thoughtfully. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to
impose..."

Drew gazed at him levelly. Did it really matter if Eugene was still attracted to him or
not? And why didn't he mind if he still was? "Yes, I'm sure."

 

When Drew woke up the next morning, he had a pounding headache. He was also alone.

On the nightstand there was a note, with his glasses on top of it so there would be no way
it could be missed. He put them on and took the paper in his hands, unsure of what to
expect.

Dear Drew, he read. Hope you don't mind that I couldn't stay -- I know you've got a lot
on your mind, and I don't know if my being here in the morning would make things
worse. I hope not, but I understand that sometimes we don't always make the best
decisions for ourselves, especially when we've been drinking...and we did have an awful
lot to drink last night. Hell, I don't know if you'll even remember last night, but if you
do, well...you know my number. And if you don't, I just want you to know that I had a
good time...and like I said, things will get better for you. No matter what the future
holds, or which future you choose. Things will get better, because you can always make
new choices.

The letter was unsigned, but of course he knew who it was from. As if he could have
forgotten what they'd done last night. What they'd done three times last night. He took
his glasses off again and rubbed his eyes, ignoring the aching in his head as he thought
about what the note said, and what it left unsaid.

//He's leaving me an out. In case I want to pretend this never happened.//

He knew what Eugene was doing, and that he was doing it to make this easier for him,
but in a way, the implication stung -- that he wouldn't want to acknowledge the morning
after what he'd needed so much the night before. Not just the sex, but a kind word, a
sensitive ear, a shoulder to cry on. A friend.

He thought about it some more. He supposed he could do that, just pretend that he
couldn't remember or that he was too drunk to know or to care...but he didn't want to.
He was tired of lies, and mistakes, and the ultimately self-destructive behavior. He was
tired of always making the same wrong choices.

He picked up the phone, decided. He needed to make a call.