Ever since Aleks had holed up in his studio, he didn't want to leave at all.

Okay, so far he'd only spent a few hours here and hadn't even recorded anything; he'd been too busy being amazed and pushing all of the buttons. It was more of a dump than a studio, because all real studios were occupied by real artists, but this dump was still the most professional recording place he'd ever set foot in, so he wasn't complaining.

He couldn't stay here forever, though, because there were still other duties. Partyka had made it happen for him, and Aleks couldn't just hole up here in return. No, he needed to prove that he could do both: appreciate the gift, make the most of it, and not blow off his actual job. Maybe it was stupid to think about it as a gift. It's not like Partyka did it out of the kindness of his heart and wasn't going to get his cut if the whole thing worked out. But he was still the only person who'd given him a chance and decided to invest in him first and then see if it paid off. It was hard not to be at least a bit grateful.

The business was booming, so Aleks had been all over the place lately, and now he was also going to be running between the club and the studio, which wasn't all that bad because it left him little time to think about Maks. Only when he got home late at night, worn out and ready to drop, did he go to bed, and sleep was suddenly forgotten. It might be because sleeping at his mother's place suddenly felt alien. Even though he had grown up there, he'd been avoiding it as much as possible for quite some time now, even more since meeting Maks. Which was really sad, like he had no place to call his own. It's not like Maks' apartment had ever felt like home, but neither did his mother's; it was too dirty in comparison to Maks' always tidy flat, too noisy outside, and too silent inside. Just wrong.

So he would be lying late at night, staring at the ceiling, and daydreaming. They hadn't spoken to each other in three days, and Aleks would wonder obsessively what Maks was up to at the moment, whether he had already told her, was planning on it, or wasn't going to tell her at all and was just trying his patience. He must have known that Aleks wouldn't hold on much longer without speaking to him, especially since this time the silent treatment was one-sided. Maks hadn't waited long and texted him the next day. He'd started slyly with 'I'm going to tell her' and then added, 'soon'. Next, he'd sent a pitiful, imploring 'Please, can we talk?'. When that hadn't worked, he'd changed tactics, written, 'I wish you were here right now' and then a simple 'I miss you' before falling silent. Aleks had kept holding his ground and never replied, even though all he could have thought of was that he missed him too. He wasn't even sure whether he was doing the right thing or torturing them both just to make a point.

Luckily, he didn't have much time to ponder it. Partyka, as usual, summoned him like a secretary, and Aleks only hoped that he would have time to get back to the studio today. He wondered if he could sleep there. It would definitely be an improvement from his current place of residence. It was just a dump, so nobody should mind, right? And it was fully at his disposal, because no self-respecting artist would ever record in such conditions, so why couldn't he bring a couch in, arrange it a bit, and live there? That would have its advantages; if he woke up in the middle of the night, hit by sudden inspiration, he could not only write it down right away but also record it.

"You're going to give a concert," Partyka informed him without any greeting as soon as he saw him at the door. "June seventeenth. In Progression," he specified. It didn't sound like a suggestion.

"Okay," Aleks said slowly, stepping in. "Do you think everything will be ready by then?" he asked hesitantly.

Partyka glowered at him. "Is this my project or yours?" he scoffed. Aleks opened his mouth, but Partyka didn't let him interrupt. "Are the backups not going to be ready in two weeks? I'm not paying for you two to slack off."

Aleks averted his eyes, suddenly feeling like a berated child. "Sure they will be," he muttered under his breath, bracing himself just in case.

Fortunately, Partyka's face softened. "Really, we need to speed it up. I don't like to throw money down the drain. And I don't like to wait. Do I look like someone who likes to wait?" he asked.

Aleks knew it was a rhetorical question but still shook his head vigorously. "I just meant that Szymon mentioned that he's going out of town and we should—" he started, trying not to sound like he was making excuses for himself.

"Szymon isn't going anywhere. He's at your disposal. You can have suggestions for him, but you can't do everything on your own, so he's responsible for backups. We want to get it out in August at the latest, so what's your job?" he asked.

It took Aleks a moment to realize that this one wasn't rhetorical. "Not leaving the studio for the next two months?" he guessed. It didn't sound too bad. That was what he'd wanted, right?

"Wrong, because we also have other things to do that are more important and more profitable than your career, and I'm going to need you for those. Be prepared that you won't have many free evenings this month," he warned.

Aleks hoped he didn't look as pathetic as he felt, because was that even doable? If Partyka was going to have him booked up most of the time, when was he supposed to record? And what about time for Maks?

Partyka apparently noticed his expression because he added gently, "Listen, Sonny Boy, I wouldn't drop it all in your lap if I didn't think you're going to handle it. Because you will. Understood?"

"Yeah," Aleks replied blandly, though he perked up slightly. He must really be an idiot if such a vague, reluctant praise, which was actually more of a threat than a praise, made him feel flattered. "Progression is pretty big," he noted out of the blue, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"We'll fill it up," Partyka assured him curtly.

Aleks wasn't particularly convinced. "I'm not very well known—" he protested hesitantly.

"I've said that we'll fill it up," Partyka repeated, starting to sound annoyed. "Are you here to question my every word? You don't get to be privy to every fucking thing I do," he snapped. Aleks shut up dutifully. "By the way, we will need to find you an actual agent. I have Szymon looking into it. But it needs to be someone trusted, so it might take a while. I'll let you know," he said flatly.

Aleks nodded. "Okay. Then I'll—"

"Then go back to your catchy, tragic stories while I go back to the actual work," he prompted him, sitting back.

"When do you think you're going to need me?" Aleks risked one more question.

"You've got a few days," Partyka muttered distractedly, mostly focused on whatever papers he drew from his desk. "Use it wisely," he added, and Aleks understood that he was being sent away. He turned around. "Oh, and Aleks?" Partyka said suddenly. He glanced over his shoulder to see that he still hadn't looked up. "Nicely done last Thursday. That's exactly what I want to see; you doing your job without bothering me with it. Keep it up."

Aleks didn't give him an answer, and he didn't suppose Partyka expected one. He left quietly, not able to stop the smug grin forcing its way onto his face. He spent a moment basking in self-admiration. Maybe he didn't suck as much as he'd thought. Maybe he actually was good at it, aside from the pangs of conscience, but who wouldn't have had those? Whether it made him a bad guy or not was highly relative; besides, it was always better to be good at something than to suck at it. Nothing wrong with keeping one's options open.

His good mood wasn't even ruined by Adrian passing him at the front door. Aleks' eyes were fixed on the floor, but he looked up when he saw his shoes and froze because he wasn't scowling and glaring at him as he usually did. His gaze was mostly blank, and he moved away to let him through. Aleks' eyes narrowed suspiciously because Adrian had never been one to control his temper, but he eventually decided to dismiss it. He knew better than to start anything with him. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder when he was outside. Adrian had stayed put; he was still standing at the doorway, looking right at his back. The corner of his mouth had gone slightly up at some point. It was such a sleazy smirk, and at the same time, it said, 'I know something you don't'. Aleks was instantly reminded of the text because it wasn't all that hard to figure out. Adrian had never coped with his presence very well. There was also something odd about that smirk—almost lascivious. Aleks didn't suspect him of having hidden gay urges, so that explanation was hopefully incorrect. It was way more likely that he was just a creep who got hard at the prospect of getting rid of the competition. He suddenly imagined Adrian jerking off to his picture and stabbing it with needles at the same time. He shuddered. Now that was disturbing. He hated fanatics. He would need to keep an eye out for him.

He changed his mind the moment he went to get on the bus that would take him back to the studio. They would have so little time, and he was already tired. He probably wouldn't be very productive today anyway. And he didn't really want to record. He wanted Maks. Without thinking too much about it, he crossed the street and got on the bus going in the opposite direction. They'd gone too far to be throwing temper tantrums now. Sure, Maks was difficult and loved postponing things indefinitely, but Aleks felt like an asshole, leaving him on his own with such a big task. And he couldn't help but think that making demands made him a hypocrite. He wasn't a saint himself. It's not like all of their problems were caused solely by Ewelina.

He went up the stairs and knocked, but no one answered. He waited for another minute before getting out his key and quietly entering the apartment. All the lights were off, and it didn't take him long to determine that Maks wasn't here. He frowned, checking the living room just in case. He went to the balcony and sat on the bench to smoke.

They were in this together. They were both stuck in a different swamp, but when combined, they would at least end up stuck together, and sharing a swamp could be pretty cozy. That's why Aleks was going to join up the swamp called Ewelina, lead Maks through it by the hand, and make sure he didn't drown. Just like Maks had made sure he hadn't drowned in the lake last weekend. It was his fucking job.

He smiled to himself, looking up at the twilight sky. No, he wasn't going to be that guy. He wasn't going to threaten to leave him if he didn't comply with his wishes. The world was bloodthirsty enough; they didn't have to be hard on each other on top of that. With that thought, he put out the cigarette, went back inside, and headed to the bedroom. He laid down on the soft mattress, nestled his face in Maks' pillow, and sighed in relief. Now this was more like it. Maybe he would even do without his presence. Maybe those walls, the silence typical for gated communities, and Maks' smell all around him would be enough.

He was asleep the second he closed his eyes.

•~💥~•

Maks wasn't sure what he was doing here. He was as far from a mommy's boy as possible, and when he'd had a problem, coming to her for advice had never been his first instinct. But he'd just thought that so many things in his life had changed in such a short time, and he hadn't seen her in ages. It'd seemed proper. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to test the waters.

His mom clearly appreciated the surprise because she threw herself at him when he was still at the door. "Your father is not here," she informed him dryly.

Maks recognized from her tone that they must have had a fight again. He really didn't understand why they kept torturing each other. Sure, maybe there'd been a time when they'd loved each other. Maybe even in some weird sense, they still loved each other, though they showed it in strange ways. Suddenly, he felt mad at them. Hadn't they realized what a shitty example they'd given him and Wiki? Maks had been well on his way to following in their footsteps after all; if not for Aleks, he would have ended up in a cold, toxic marriage as well, even though he'd been witnessing this catastrophe since early childhood. Hadn't he learned from others' mistakes at all? What the fuck had he been thinking? Even before Aleks, how could he have believed that marrying Ewelina would ever be a good idea? He shook his head.

"That's fine. I'm actually here for you," he said casually, following her to the kitchen.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "I sure hope so. There's also no dinner. You could have warned me," she muttered, visibly disappointed in her own lack of preparation. "You've lost weight," she noticed. "You haven't been overworking yourself, have you?" she asked suspiciously. Maks smiled indulgently. It wasn't work. It was just stress. He was going to answer, but she didn't let him. "Where's Ewelina? Why didn't you bring her?"

Maks got involuntarily tense. "Work, I guess," he said in a non-committal way.

"At this hour?" His mom shook her head. "That girl is crazy. But office jobs fit some people." She gave him a significant glance before closing the fridge and coming up to him. "How are you doing there?" she asked, putting a hand on his arm with visible concern. Apparently she was aware of his tendency for white lies because she added with emphasis, "For real?"

Maks shrugged, averting his eyes. She seemed to know that it meant 'Shitty, but you already know that, so why do you bother to ask?'.

Her face dropped. "Baby," she started carefully. "I know that your dad put you under terrible pressure. And I know that you only bowed to this pressure for peace of mind and because you thought it was a sensible thing to do, but I can't shake off the feeling that you got trapped and now you don't know how to get out," she said helplessly. Yeah, she always struck right home. "I know you're smart, but I can't see you being fulfilled by working with numbers. You've always needed to express yourself. And I understand why you decided to give up on that, but I think you've made a mistake. It happened too overnight for me to believe you thought it through hard enough, but then you just stayed on the path and never even tried to reconsider."

This time, Maks didn't avert his eyes. "I think it was a mistake too," he admitted quietly, sounding much calmer than he felt. He didn't know at this point what he was going to tell her. Maybe nothing. Or maybe everything. Let's see how it went.

At first she looked surprised that he owned up to it so easily, then she looked at him with new interest. "I know what your father thought of it. But I never taught you to give up on your dreams. You could have stood up to him at least a little bit," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Maks smiled. Well, she never had a problem standing up to anyone, that was for sure. "I know I could have," he admitted, ashamed of himself. "But it wasn't only about him. Ewelina didn't think it was a good idea either. She wanted me to have a real job first and then think about acting. As a hobby, if at all."

His mom looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can believe that," she said finally. "She's very... down to earth. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing," she assured him quickly. "It's actually healthy for one person in a relationship to be more pragmatic. Then the other one can have their head up in the clouds," she smiled before adding sternly, "But they can't cut them down, so don't worry about Ewelina. If you think seriously about—"

"I'm going to break up with her." Maks cut her off abruptly, sounding as firm as he could.

His mom broke off mid-sentence, leaving her mouth open. For a moment, she didn't seem to know how to react to this sudden announcement. "Break up?" she echoed, like she needed to make sure she'd heard him correctly. "Don't you think that's a little... drastic? I mean, if there are issues between the two of you, I'm sure you can work it out. You've been together for so long after all."

Maks eyed her thoughtfully for a long moment. His mom was... he couldn't fully figure her out. On one hand, she had always been encouraging him to work up his passions and make something more of himself than what his father had planned for him. It was hard to say if she was doing it more for him or in spite of her husband. He wasn't sure how far all those pretty words that Maks could do whatever made him happy went or if her inclination towards full liberation included her only son choosing a significantly younger boy over his long-term fiancée.

His mom had always liked the idea of him and Ewelina together. Maks had no idea why; after all, it was like a rerun of her own marriage. He parents had also met in high school and stayed together. She liked the idea of him and Ewelina, and she liked the idea of him going into acting. Maybe it was because she was an artist herself, and the fact that her husband was so well-positioned made it possible for her to sculpt her little masterpieces regardless of whether they were currently a hit or at a standstill. Maybe she just wanted the same for him.

But there was also the other hand. His mom would do anything to get one over on dad, and she was ready to go a long way. And his dad... no, he didn't have anything against gay people. He didn't really have anything against anyone, as long as they were far away and weren't complicating what, according to him, was a life order in his immediate surroundings. He was the most non-ideological man on earth. He would have probably been all for don't ask, don't tell. To him, there were just things that weren't supposed to be acknowledged. Things that could be potentially damaging, and it didn't matter whether they were right or wrong, as long as they were questionable. Maks could bet that if he ever found out about Aleks, he would be able to spend his whole life without mentioning his name, just pretending that he didn't exist.

If Maks was to follow in his footsteps, he really should just marry Ewelina, make a kid or two, and fuck Aleks on the side in secret. That's how it was done, after all. Sometimes he was scared that he was more like his dad than he thought. He was a liar after all. Would he have been able to lie throughout his whole life—to himself and to everyone around him? Maybe. Depending on the circumstances, certainly. He already had for years, after all.

His mom was the opposite. She liked everything to be voiced out loud, without beating around the bush, no matter if it was uncomfortable, embarrassing, or potentially harmful. Maks kind of respected that. Maybe he should try being more like her.

"Yeah, there are issues between us, the main one being that I don't love her and I don't want to be with her. I don't think I've ever loved her," he said calmly. It sounded even more overwhelming when voiced in such a flat tone.

"You don't..." his mom broke off, obviously lost for words. It took her barely a second to realize that her son was completely serious, and the previous astonishment was replaced with careful curiosity. She glanced around and walked away before he managed to open his mouth. She pulled a bottle of brandy from the cabinet. "I think we're going to need it for this conversation," she explained casually.

Maks made a vague gesture between shrugging and nodding. For a moment, he thought about changing the subject from his love life to the fact that she'd been drinking a lot of this stuff lately, but eventually decided against it. One issue at a time. He raised the glass, wetting his lips in its contents and relishing the warmth rushing through his body.

"No, I don't," he repeated, seeing her expectant stare. "I also don't want to work in finance anymore. I'm going to drop it, go back to the theater, and audition for the drama academy. Even if I'm going to get in next year, or in two years, or ten, or never. I..." He hesitated. "I'm not going to compromise on my happiness anymore. I know what I want from life, and I intend to go get it," he said firmly. It wasn't until he voiced it out loud that he realized that it was the truth. He did know what he wanted. He did, more or less, know how to make it happen. Right at this moment, he even believed it was all doable.

At first, his mom just blinked. "Where is this coming from?" she asked, sounding suspiciously calm. "Not so long ago, you were insisting that everything was just the way you wanted it."

"I lied," Maks said flatly, not sounding particularly guilty about it.

His mom glared at him briefly. "I know," she stressed. "It's just so sudden and... extreme. Are you sure dropping everything and starting over is the right way to go about it? You could try it out without burning all your bridges," she suggested carefully.

Maks was silent for a long moment, staring at his glass. Finally, he downed its content in one gulp and grimaced slightly before reaching for the bottle to refill the glass. He knew he was stalling, but he didn't know how to properly explain why it had to be all or nothing.

"Maks, where is this coming from?" his mom repeated impatiently when she didn't get an answer.

"Someone opened my eyes," Maks finally confessed quietly. He looked up at her at the exact moment her eyes widened.

"Oh. I see. Someone," she emphasized the last word. "Well, that changes things," she remarked so casually that Maks had to snort.

"Yeah. It changes everything," he muttered in agreement, staring at the table.

"Everything," she echoed knowingly, sounding like she finally fully understood what was going on. "So who has the magic power to change everything?" she asked, raising her eyebrows meaningfully.

Maks froze, staring into space instead of at her. He registered the question, but right now it wasn't what his mind was focused on. He was in task mode again, and the task that needed to be done wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

He shook his head distractedly. "It doesn't matter," he dismissed before deciding to use his mom as another guinea pig and put it out there, regardless of what she was going to think of him after. "I need to go to my girlfriend," he broke off before grimacing lightly and correcting himself. "Fiancée, and tell her that I've been cheating on her for the last two months with someone she knows and, what's even worse, actually likes. I don't think she's going to be very happy with me," he finished lamely.

His mom cracked and snorted loudly, though it didn't sound like she was amused. "No! You think?" she mocked before her eyes narrowed. "What's the matter with you, Maks?" she asked suddenly. "I thought you were better than that. My own son. Just a common cheater. You really are all the same," she said, sounding almost surprised.

Maks had the unpleasant impression that she was talking from experience. He didn't feel particularly offended by her accusation. She was right after all. "But mom, it's like... real love," he objected quietly, feeling slightly foolish.

That made her look taken aback. "And that makes it okay?" she asked dubiously.

"Doesn't it?" Maks shot back, because it made him feel kind of justified.

"Two months ago, maybe it would," she corrected him harshly.

Maks dropped his head, slightly abashed, but still shrugged. "You know, she cheated on me too," he informed her casually. "When I was in England."

She stared at him intently for a long moment. "So it was supposed to be payback?" she asked, frowning. "I never took you for one to get even. You always seemed bigger than that."

"I don't know," he confessed, biting his lip and seriously considering it. The answer came to him after barely a few seconds. "I don't think so. It already didn't matter by then," he said vaguely, but she seemed to know what he meant.

"When you think about it," she started thoughtfully. "Look at how it works. Infidelity is always a test. You either make sure that it's good the way it is, or find out that it can be better. Shame when two people come to completely different conclusions," she mused philosophically, taking a sip of brandy. "Sometimes I regret I've never tried," she revealed suddenly, sounding relatively ashamed of herself for admitting it out loud. Maks blinked, aghast at the confession. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at herself. "I was always too decent," she scoffed, like it was actually a reason to feel sorry for herself. Finally, she looked up at Maks. "Are you going to stay tonight?" she asked calmly. "Maybe when you sleep it off, you will have even more revelations. Besides, a brand new day is always better for making grand life decisions."

Maks thought he sensed a trace of mockery in her tone, as if she were laughing at him. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay," he said, surprising himself. It's not like his family home had any chance of making it easier on him, but postponing things for the next day had always been his favorite pastime.

His mom nodded. "Good. And tomorrow... do what you've got to do," she agreed quietly. "Are you going to reveal this other name, so I can at least use it in my head?" she added curiously.

"Aleks," Maks said without a second thought, then blinked, startled. He wasn't sure why he'd done something so monumentally stupid, besides the fact that, for some reason, he felt it was safe to tell his mom his name.

Apparently he was right, because she barely snickered. "Aleks, huh? Is Ola too clichéd?" she asked wryly.

Right. Telling his mom Aleks' name was fine, because it still made her think that Aleks was a woman. On top of that, she'd reacted in almost the same way Maks had when Aleks had first introduced himself. Sometimes life was so poetically ironic.

He decided not to correct her. He'd told her the name, hadn't he? He had. He hadn't lied. She could interpret it as she wished. Maybe it was a sign from the heavens that it wasn't the right time yet.

So he said nothing and just smiled casually. "I'm going to bed. You should too," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Don't tell dad, okay?" he added.

She gave him a knowing smile. "Goodnight, Maks."

•~💥~•

Someone was talking. It was a little muffled, like in a dream. Maybe it was a dream. He was pretty sure he'd dreamed about something else before, but he couldn't remember.

The voice belonged to his mom. "Where's Aleks? Why didn't you bring her?"

Maks opened his mouth to answer, then suddenly froze.

He opened his eyes slowly, instantly fixing his gaze on the very familiar ceiling. He was startled when he realized that he was actually in his parents' house. He repeated in his mind the only words he remembered from whatever he'd dreamed about. There was something disturbingly wrong with them, but in his dozy state, the source of this wrongness was hanging right outside of his grasp.

'So where's Aleks? Why didn't you bring her?'

He suddenly tensed, filled with a strange, almost suffocating panic. His mom now thought that he had a girlfriend named Aleks, and he'd deliberately let her think that. Last night, it had seemed like a good idea and an easy way out, but now there was no trace of the relief he expected to feel after succeeding at keeping his gayness secret. Instead, he felt like his body was protesting violently against the mere idea, even though it was completely irrational. He hadn't been planning on coming out of the closet yesterday; it was still too early for that, so it wasn't even that he'd set on doing something and then chickened out. But now it hit him that telling his mom there was someone else and not specifying that someone was a man could result only in his mom believing there was another woman in his life. For some reason, it felt more wrong now that his mom knew Aleks existed but misgendered him than when she hadn't known about him at all.

He jumped out of bed, glancing briefly at his phone. Seven am. Good enough.

He tried to prepare a speech while he was driving and then when he was parking in front of his building. He didn't know what he was doing it for. He probably wouldn't use it anyway. He opened the door, got inside, went to his bedroom, and froze.

He gaped for a moment, stunned, before coming up to him, smiling involuntarily. He got to his knees in front of the bed, resting his elbows on the mattress and staring at his sleeping face. He reached out to brush his fringe from his eyes. Sleeping Aleks was a sight that always filled him with calmness, maybe because normally he was so quick and frenzied, and in slumber he looked much younger, like a vulnerable little kid. It was something Maks never got tired of looking at. He'd missed him like crazy these last few days. He would have really loved to join him now; just get undressed, cuddle up to him, and put everything off for a couple more hours.

But he also really didn't want to have to look him in the eyes and tell him that he still hadn't done it. On the other hand, he imagined himself coming back later today, waking him up and saying, 'I told her'. He could easily see the faint, unbelieving smile that would appear on his face. Aleks would try to hold it back and not let it show how deliriously happy it made him. Maks would then say something along the lines of 'you know I would do anything for you', blushing from head to toe and instantly pretending that something so ridiculously sappy had never come out of his mouth.

He hesitated by the door for one more minute because it was Saturday and barely eight a.m. But she got up as early as he did; they were both fucking early birds. And she was going to hate him anyway for ruining her Saturday, weekend, and life.

Stop looking for excuses and just do it, he told himself before leaving the apartment.