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Ever heard of the 'staggering waste of carbon' incident at the Denmark UNESCO conference a few years ago?
Dr. Ryland Grace would ask you to forget it. Erase it from your mind. It is not something he finds pleasant to talk about.
On that day recorded in history, Dr. Grace has been 'disgraced' in his field in academia and he was lost. He had his entire plan thought out, and one day the rug got pulled right under him and it led to his fall from grace. That is, ending up in a classroom as a teacher.
Did you know that to earn a teaching credential you'd either have to do a residency or an internship? Grace picked the second option, because he evidently does not perform well when he's under pressure from a figure of authority. And, after passing that internship for a preliminary credential, he still had to take another yearlong course to be a fully-fledged teacher.
His early years of teaching, quite frankly, humbled him. He couldn't control the kids at all — they'd always talk over him, insult him or just flat out ignored him. Big whoop! It was too much at one point. Grace only allowed himself to cry when he reaches the safety of the apartment. It was only when he was staring at the ceiling, in bed, when he realised that he shouldn't be teaching them as Dr. Grace.
And so was born Mr. Grace. Grover Cleaveland Middle School's favourite science teacher. He tossed the old Dr. Grace in a box, a transparent box more accurately, as he tries to treat the students as equals. No belittling (he didn't mean to, but parent's complained it sounded that way), no swearing (not that he always swears, but Pavlov conditioning yourself to use the PG versions of swears is not that easy) and more importantly no 'Staggering Waste of Carbon' repeats. They're kids after all. Grace muses. Stuck up adults, though? All bets are off. The new rules he makes for himself worked fine, he rarely needed to enforce them. He'd chew on his twizzlers to keep his anger at bay.
Turns out, when you're stupidly passionate about what you're teaching, you'd get people interested enough to attempt to listen. It starts slow, but soon enough Grace gets his kids to give him an ounce of attention, and then eventually their rapt attention.
The thing about kids is that they're smarter than they look, and are naturally curious. They may not have the correct answer all the time, but they're always thinking. So, Grace doesn't mind when they asked him questions every 5 minutes, or the fact he has to sidetrack from the main lesson plan just to indulge in a few silly questions. He genuinely likes science. And, he realises, he genuinely likes teaching too.
It was when he was doing some last-minute grading of some papers on his classroom desk, where he hears the pitter patter of the rain. He absently whistles a tune from a long time ago, remembering that day in Los Angeles.
.
.
.
It was a cold, windy night…okay well, Grace wasn't sure.
What he did remember was that he was still in his suit, fresh after finishing an important "academic" call in the janitor's closet of Colt's workplace at that point in time. Colt ditched him for Jody — he wasn't that mad about it. He kinda deserved it after blowing him off several times…such as that day. It really wasn't wholly intentional on Grace's part. It all boiled down to three main reasons: he was busy and he got queasy. It wasn't like he adored watching his twin hurl himself into danger on a daily basis. He had enough of that in their childhood. He had better things to do. That's what Grace told himself anyway.
Another thing, Grace did not like to be reminded that he was alone. He did not mind it. He was more so annoyed that he was seen as atypical for not purposely pursuing a romantic relationship. He was already a freak in school for being intelligent and keeping to himself — did he really need more things on his plate? No, but the world has a habit of giving him grief for no reason. Such as seeing his brother happy with his girlfriend. Grace will always be happy for his twin. At the same time, there's also always been a pang of envy in him, wishing that he could be like that. Now, he's had friends before. He even dated before. It just didn't amount to anything remotely similar to what Colt had.
Still, he understood where his brother was coming from. It was Colt's way of looking out for him by forcing him to come over to 'touch grass'. Suffice to say, Grace was touched. That's also why Grace even bothered to visit him in Los Angeles right now. Was he sorry that he made Colt ditch him because he was being such an Ass anyway? Yes, but he's not going to grovel.
Not yet, anyway.
He was cutting it real close with inserting his meeting with Colt right before the upcoming UNESCO conference he was attending in Denmark on his calendar. But he'll make it work — he's Dr. Ryland Grace and he's got a PhD in molecular biology. Take that! Still, he makes a quick text to Colt to apologise, and Jody as well.
Why? He was broke and needed a ride to the airport. Listen, a PhD and plane tickets were expensive! Grace could handle a blow to his ego…Regardless, he was on a mission to clear his head by walking around nearby until his calvary arrives. That was the plan, until he felt drops of rain hit his scalp and the frames of his glasses. Alright, scratch that. New plan.
He held his briefcase close to his chest as tried to find a nearby place to sit around until Colt reads his texts. It was time to grovel. He stumbled his way into a bar, with a staircase leading down to the main room. Climbing down the stairs, Grace sighed as he hung his raincoat on the coat rack. It was fairly busy — and fancy. Yikes, he's gonna have to shell out a few bucks if he wanted to stay here for a bit. He debated going back out but the sound of the harsh, loud thunder made his brain go 'Nope.'
So, he took a seat on the fancy bar stool, and ordered a Shirley Temple. What? He didn't feel like getting hammered tonight. He thanked the bartender as she handed him his drink in record time. Oh, this place is really fancy. He took a sip as he frantically texts Colt to come pick him up. He sent a selfie of him looking all sad and drenched…and also sent it to Jody. Grace was covering all bases here. He sighs, keeping his phone in pocket as he waited.
And that's when he heard it — the notes of a Steinway Grand piano, which Grace could tell from reading the name engraved on the piano (after he wipes his glasses). Before he knew it, Grace is drifting away from reality by the electric pull of the pianist. It was as if he was standing at the centre of a starry night as he listens to the melody. The chatting of patrons, clattering of plates and the sound chairs scuffing — those escape him as Grace was entirely mesmerised on the piano and it's player. And for the first time, Grace considers, if this feeling is what romance felt like…it's pretty nice, he'll admit.
Now, he's not a musician or anything, but Grace could tell this song has some intense longing weaved into it. It was nice, and it was fascinating. The illusion breaks as he sees a taller man entering the fray, proceeding to lecture the pianist. What surprised him actually, was when the supposedly poised pianist he pegged earlier quipped back with such intensity that it made the academic flinch. Okay, Grace realises, he's into that. He filed that in his mind palace for future study. Of course, it was when Grace was starring intensely at the piano man that he got caught. The pianist makes his way over. Oh crap.
"Did you have a problem with me, sir?" The handsome pianists intones, and Grace gulps. He's still holding onto his drink, as he wipes his face with the sleeves of his arm nervously. He coughs, as he puts his hands up in surrender.
"Not at all," Grace says, with full sincerity. "I was just impressed, I didn't know bars had orchestral-grade pianists around." He sees a flicker of a smile on the other's face — Grace took that as good progress. He looks over at the ugly name tag on the vintage suit, "Nice to uh, meet you Sebastian."
The man's eyes twitched as he reached for the name tag. He tossed it the floor. His expression schooled back into something gentle before addressing Grace. "Please, I'd like for you to call me Seb. Sometimes they get musicians in to play for the patrons. Today, it's me. I'm glad you liked it. What brings you here? Pardon for the assumption, but you don't seem like the type to visit these types of establishments often."
Grace sighed, "Clearing my head, needed some time to myself to think. There's this big science conference coming up. It's pretty important to me, and my career."
"Ah, so you're a scientist?" Seb guessed.
"A molecular biologist, actually." Grace corrects out of habit, his previous shyness vanishing to give way to his usual grace, which is not much at all. "I'm a doctor. Dr. Ryland Grace. I have a PhD. I'm sorta a big deal, y'know? My dissertation — if you haven't heard — is called an 'An Analysis of Water Based Assumptions and Re-calibrations of Expectations for Evolutionary Model.' Now, I know what you're thinking. We need H2O. Hah, well newsflash buddy, there's nothing magical about Hydrogen and Oxygen. It's more reasonable to assume a different planet probably has different conditions for survival. And they call me a nut! Why are we assuming everywhere functions like earth!" Grace clanked his drink on the bar table, Seb stared. Grace stared back. He didn't intend for his voice to get increasingly louder nor the fact that he's gone and startled everyone in the room. He attempted to cover his face with his free hand. He tried to retreat back further in his stool.
Seb burst out laughing, right at his face. Grace blinked back, before he started to scowl. The laughter slowly faded, and the bar resumes again. Seb wiped the tear that formed at the corner of his eye, "You're very funny Dr. Grace, and intelligent." Grace could hear the pianist trying to stifle an incoming snort. Well, that could've gone worse. The academic tried to make a break for it, only for his hands to get caught by the other man in a very firm grip.
"I mean it. I didn't intend to laugh at you," the pianist explains. "For what it's worth, I think you're onto something. I commend your passion. It's rare to see these days, y'know?" Seb took a seat next to Grace, turning to face him. His hand resting on his face. "Since you've shared about yourself, I suppose you won't mind hearing out a stranger like me?" Grace turned over to him, taking a sip. He nodded as he began to listen, "Let's see, that piece I played earlier? It's an original piece. I'm calling it 'City of Stars'. It's not finished, not at all. But that's the fun part about Jazz to me, the creation of new things. I got inspired by Monk, see." Seb hummed the same tune as earlier. "I first got the idea when I was walking along Santa Monica. It was right after sunset, and I decided to take a detour before going back to my place. And I see it — the sky turns a hue of purple, dotted with stars all around. With the wind hitting my face, it felt surreal. It's telling me 'Seb, you keep going'." The pianist closed his eyes, as if he was imagining the moment for a short bit. "The stars, you remind me of them. Maybe it's your eyes. Like Starshine."
Low hanging fruit, but Grace could feel his face heat up all the same. He smiles as he tries to imagine it too. "There's uh, this thing called the blue hour. It's basically like the Golden hour's lesser known cousin. Anyway, the real star of the show is called Chappius Absorption. When the sun is just below the horizon, mostly blue-light wavelengths will reach the Earth's surface. It's based on the fact that red light wavelengths pass through space while bluer light with shorter wavelengths is scattered in the atmosphere." Grace takes a sip to hide his face again. "Just a fun fact I remembered. I like the stars too." Seb smiled at that.
He didn't mean to info-dump twice to a talented pianist but sue him, this was one of the few times he's got a willing audience to listen to him. The academic became mildly surprised as he was met with a Seb who was also deep in thought. "You really are brilliant, aren't you Dr. Grace? You should consider a role in teaching with that, I'd be your number one student. Front row, for the best view." The words made Grace's face heat up further, giving way to an amused laughed.
"I don't think you'd be learning anything, Seb." Grace continued, rambling on. "And you'd be the only one thinking that. Everyone I know besides my brother and his girlfriend thinks I'm a joke." Grace swirled his drink, dejected. He could hear Seb scoff at his side.
"Well, fuck them!" Seb said with conviction, immediately grabbing Grace's attention. "They're not worth your time anyway. You, Dr. Grace, are a brilliant man. You got a PHD for crying out loud. You put in effort, and you're a smart. People like them, they outcast you because you're different. But you shouldn't be guilty for being yourself. You should be proud." Seb had his hands on his hips now. "It's no good for a bright guy like you to be so down on yourself. You like stars, right? Tell you what. You, me, Griffith Observatory. Let's just sneak in, and you tell me all about whatever science you want. I promise I won't get bored."
His jaw dropped. Grace was half-certain that he was dreaming. No way. No way in heck did he just get asked out by a mysterious pianist at a random bar by being…himself! It sounded so genuine too that Grace wanted to consider. That he wanted to try whatever this was. He wanted so badly the dream that Seb weaved for him. He almost fell for it — the sincerity, and the passion. Call him naive, but Grace was picking up everything Seb has placed down for him.
And yet, at the same time, Grace couldn't do it.
He was scared, very much so. It wasn't the sneaking in part as must as it rationally should be — it was everything else. He has never felt anything like this before, and it was basically handed to him on silver platter, he just can't get the sense of dread to go away. God, he's such a coward. He doesn't need this. He doesn't want this. Nope! It was with a heavy heart as he tries to think of a response for the piano man.
"Aren't you still on the clock?" Grace said, eventually. He let out a chuckle for good measure, "You're really nice." He paused. "It sounds nice. I'd like that. You're a nice guy, Seb." Grace continued, truthfully. "We uh…I can't. I don't live in LA, I'm just here to visit my brother before I'm flying off to Denmark for that conference. After that, if all goes well, I'm probably gonna pour all my soul into Academia— I don't want to lead you on, sorry. If my dream fails, I'd die." Okay, perhaps Grace was being a bit over dramatic. He wasn't sure who he was trying convince at this point himself. Grace hoped Seb would take it well.
Seb gave him a resigned smile. "I understand. I'll let you in on a secret too— my dream, is to open a Jazz bar of myself one day." Seb said, animatedly with his hands gesturing with great passion. "Picture it. Smooth jazz playing in the back with people enjoying the moment. I'd get other people on stage. People who play the keys, bass, saxophones…anyone who wants to play. The thing about Jazz is that when you put it all together — each player, each sound — it becomes one single story. That’s what it’s about. And, that's s what I want. I'd do anything for my dream, and if that's yours who am I to get in the way? The offer still stands though. C'mon. Imagine it, while we dance with stars."
Grace shakes his head in amusement. It would be nice, huh?
"I have something for you, Starshine." Seb pressed on, Grace slowly shook his head as Seb came closer. He nodded, breathing in the scent of Seb's cologne. Grace closed his eyes. Lips puckered up and leaning forward like he's preparing for a kiss. He's pleasantly surprised when Seb gave him a peck on his forehead instead, tapping on his lip. "Good luck, Dr. Grace. If we ever meet again, the date's still on the table." He whispered, breath tickling Grace's ear. Seb gave a bow, before he got unceremoniously dragged back to the stage in the centre of the room by his boss.
Grace's stare lingered on him, even when he gathered his yellow raincoat on the shelf rack. He felt as if he just got the wind swept under him. His phone was positively buzzing — definitely Colt coming to pick him up. Grace spent his entire ride to Denmark cursing himself for not even asking for the piano man's number, but it was for a good reason.
He couldn't afford distractions.
.
.
.
He could afford them now.
Grace whistles the same tune as he fiddles with the lock of his bicycle near a lamppost. The people won't mind…probably! Don't ask why Grace thought it was a good idea to go to a jazz bar on a school night. He doesn't really know either. He was feeling sentimental and maybe the some live Jazz can provide him some of that reprieve.
Yeah, Jazz? Grace didn't think he'd be into that either. Well, he always liked music but never really dabbled it in properly. There was always something else for him, something more important. In the past anyway.
Now he's learnt to take it slow. Call him a sentimentalist — he went and googled what Seb said all those years ago. This Monk guy that Seb mentioned? An actual Jazz pianist like him. Turns out he was pretty big deal too. And guess what? Grace was floored. He'd wager that Seb is just as brilliant. Just in music, not science. And that's really cool, and hot.
Seb didn't explicitly mention that it was a dying art on their first meeting but Grace could fill in the pieces. He's even more impressed knowing that. When they met that time, Seb was definitely younger than him. Still, just as knowledgeable, preceptive, and talented. And using all that passion into upholding something he loved? There's something to admire in that. He wonders if Seb ever did fulfil his dream…
Grace pins the thought as he makes his way to the establishment. Climbing down the stairs, he's met with the sound of a keyboard which left him in an incredible state of nostalgia. If Grace had a nickel for every time he went into a Jazz bar on a whim to a pianist, he'd have two nickels. Pretty weird for it happen twice, huh? The wave of nostalgia gave way to modernity though, as Grace properly listens to the melody.
He wonders what Seb would think. Grace always thought of him as old-fashioned. Him and that old Steinway…that is until, the room stills for him again.
All the background noise, ignored. He made his way to the centre of the bar where the stage was, or as close as he can behind the small crowd that was already formed. His eyes zeroed in on the pianist, dressed in a sleek black suit. With shades indoors, blocking a clear view of his face.
Grace breath hitches anyway. It's him, it has to be. The teacher swears by it.
Panicked, Grace retreats to the corners of the bar but still ensuring he gets a good view. He didn't need a full view, he just wanted eyes on the keyboardist. He watches the performance. Seb looks different. Gone was the suave, confident man he knew. If anything, he looked resigned. This was a far cry from the magic man in his memory. Sure, Grace is a little peeved. He doesn't know why but he's feeling immensely annoyed by this. Why would he do this? This wasn't the Seb he knew at the bar all those years ago, clearly. But, he reasons, years can change a man. Heck, he's a teacher now.
When the band performance ends, Grace's curiosity got the best of him. He lingers at the corner of the bar — acutely aware he looks like a total creep — for his chance. Fortune smiles upon him as the rest of the band seemed to disperse elsewhere, leaving the pianist alone with the keyboard. He stalks towards him, coughing loudly to get his attention. The pianist looks up, ready to maintain the teacher's stare. When he lifts the shades off, Grace's breath hitches.
It's him—
Instead of getting a warm greeting like Grace shamelessly envisioned on sleepless nights, he was met with disdain, grief and helplessness. "You're in yellow," Seb's voice trembled. "Fuck me, this is one hell of a sick joke."
Excuse me, Grace thought, that's rude. A Beat. Alright maybe Grace should give this guy some slack. What the fudge happened?
With a frown on his face, Grace quickly retorts. "Do you have a problem with me, sir?" This derives a tired sigh from the pianist as he shakes his head. "My kids can behave a lot better than you can at their young age, y'know. And you're a grown man." The pianist's eyes widened at that. "K-kids as in, my students. I'm a science teacher now." Grace hoped that clarified things up, and it earned him a soft smile on the tired pianist's face.
"Knew you'd do great as a teacher," Seb responses, fiddling with the keys on the board as he tries to think on what to say next. The man doesn't manage to say much as he starts to play the keyboard again, his fingers wander along the keys searching for something to play.
Grace couldn't really tell if Seb was ignoring him on purpose, or if he's deep in thought. One look at Seb, and really he looks like he's seen better days. He doesn't have kind of courage to immediately go up and ask "Hey you look like shit, what's wrong." So, he just stands and listens to Seb play by ear, until he gets forced to leave. And that's when Grace hears a familiar melody from all those years ago. He could've help it — he starts to whistle to the tune to. do-do-do-do—
Just like that, Seb looks up. Their eyes meet again, as if properly seeing each other now. With renewed vigour, Seb transitions into that same song. To Grace's surprise, the pianist starts to sing this time.
City of stars
Are you shining just for me?
City of stars
There's so much that I can't see
Who knows?
I felt it from the first embrace I shared with you
That now, our dreams
They've finally come true
Suffice to say, Grace was awestruck. The man can sing! He suddenly feels slightly inferior, slightly. The lyrics itself allowed him to segue into the elephant in the room that needed to be addressed. So, Grace bit the bullet.
"Did it?" Grace asks, met by Seb's look. "Did it come true? Your dream, I mean. You always said you wanted your own bar."
"Soon, but…" Seb trails off. That's how Grace learns of Seb's current predicament. He's been playing for a bunch of gigs — anything that he can can find. He rarely keeps to one job, mostly because he gets himself fired for going off script by doing improv Jazz. While it did work for a bit, he managed to land himself in a band that made him more that whatever he could've made during those gigs. And it was stable, so he feasibly could get enough cash for that bar of his. It was all going well, until Seb shares his real issue.
"She broke up with me," Seb says, looking like a sad wet cat. "For good reason too, I was an ass-hole, I can admit that. It's been a few months since then, and I heard she's doing well for herself." Grace caught the other's eye stray towards his pocket. The teacher surmises a few things. Namely that Seb is barely on his two feet. He plays amazing, he dresses good — but he can tell that inside the piano man's heart aching. Whatever he had with this his former girlfriend clearly did a number on him. It was also a testament to how much he supposedly cared for this girl.
Like clinging on a shooting star.
Grace blows a sigh. He doesn't know why he's thinking so deeply on this matter. Frankly, it's none of Grace's business. Though, to Grace, Seb reminds him of himself. Running on auto-pilot? Yeah, he was a mess right after the conference kerfuffle. Exactly how Seb's looking like right now. And, in Grace's personal opinion, he wanted so desperately for someone who understood. He had Marissa, Colt, Jody — it's a bit pathetic that he can count all of his major relationships with one hand — but none of them really got him wholly. Is this considered trying to fix someone? Grace hides his mouth with his palm, biting his lip. Am I selfish coward taking advantage of someone vulnerable? But really, all he wanted was to help. Yeah, Grace nods.
He's doing his best to recall their conversation from all those years ago. The other man promised him a planetarium date. It could be enough to cheer Seb up, to provide a distraction. That's the goal here, right? Grace is going to get Seb's groove back. He claps his hands together to get the other man's attention so as to relay his plan.
"Is this your way of propositioning me?"
"Yeah, well more like I think you need a break. And you're acting like you've given up. Have you? Huh? Well, tough luck because I believe in you." Oh and Christmas Eve, did he had to look like a pathetic wet cat? That piece of his fringe falling in between his eyes, framing his face. It should be unfair how photogenic the pianist it without even putting in the effort.
"I'm just cashing in on that date proposal of yours. Just your luck, San Francisco has one. It's called the Morrison Planetarium. I brought my kids there before, several times. There's this display where you see the stars all around!" Before he knows it, Grace already starts to talk about the place with such fondness that Seb finds lovely. "I know you'd like it."
"Me?" Seb points to himself. "Win you," He points to Grace. "over. Tonight."
"No, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow? I need to finish some of my backlog, so…I'll get back to you?" Grace takes the opportunity to exchange numbers with Seb without much difficulty.
"It's in the middle of the week—" Seb starts, then pauses and then sighs "Alright, I'll pick you up some time. Thoughts about breaking in?" Seb asks cheekily, backtracking when Grace gives him a look over his glasses that are still somehow hanging on his face from his ears. His stance, akimbo, like a teachers'. It make Seb's lips quirk.
"We're not breaking in like some romance movie in 2016! We're not some lovesick teenagers rebelling!" Grace flails, sighing tiredly. He rubs his forehead. "We are two. responsible. working members of the society, Seb!" Seb nods, failing to hide his smile form forming on his face.
"I'll pay?" The pianist offers, resulting a happy nod from the teacher. And so, the two stand under the under the warm light. The moment gets shattered when Grace quickly checks his watch. Christmas Eve! It's 3am! Oh goodness gracious, he's a teacher. That means he actually has to go to school on a weekday to teach. He scratches his heads, as he tries to remember where he parked his ride. He turns over to the pianist, worried. "Seb, how are you getting home? Er — to your hotel room. Did you need a ride?" The teacher hurriedly offers. "I got a bicycle."
Seb blinked at him. Once, and then twice. And it's really hurting Grace's confidence over here. "How chivalrous of you. Are you sure it's safe?" Seb's trying to stifle his snicker.
Grace gives him an unimpressed look. "I don't own a car — most of my money goes towards buying school supplies and rent. If you're too chicken to hop on a bike ride with me, then your loss piano man." Grace did an internal first bump. Oh, heck yeah Grace nods to himself. Take the bait, Seb.
"That's…very sweet of you to offer." Seb admits instead, sighing as he follows Grace to his bike. It's as if he can't believe he's agreeing to such a thing. Grace can't believe it either. "You really care about your kids, huh? You're kind, it's a rare trait these days. I can't lie to you — thought you were just Eco-conscious when you said you have a bike." Grace turns away, feeling the warmth rise up to his cheeks. Oh, this was going to be one heck of a ride home.
Mr. Ryland Grace feels impossibly flustered currently, having his waist wrapped by a handsome jazz pianist he just picked up from a bar. They are go downhill, following the road back to Seb's hotel. Sharing a bike with two people, like it's a romance movie. (This was unintentional on Grace's part)
For a guy that seemingly exudes so much confidence, it brings a smile on Grace's face as he feels the other man bury his face on the teacher's neck. It was as if to get closer for safety. And, it felt really good actually! Grace files this feeling in his mind to explore later, at a more opportune time. For now, he follows the momentum of the slope downhill. He feels refreshed as the wind caresses his side, and a weird sense of joy as he enjoys the breathing of the other man close to him—
"Grace, GRACE!" Seb squeezes him. "Pole!"
Oh Fudge. He puts the full weight of his body forward, clutching the breaks. The duo comes to a jerky stop few metres away from an electrical pole. Grace could hear the heavy breathing coming from both him and Seb. That was definitely too close, but couldn't help himself. "We're alive, see!" This earns him a jab from Seb, followed by incredulous laughter in which Grace also joined in.
The good part is that Grace actually succeeded in bringing Seb to his destination vis a vis the admittedly fancy hotel that was to be the pianist's temporary residence. Grace remembers, this time, to get the piano man's number. He waits until Seb's inside the elevator before he puts on his helmet. The teacher catches the pianist's expression just in time — a genuine smile plastered on the man's face. The stray strand of hair framing his face, focusing on the other's eyes. He winks, waving as the elevator doors close. It was as if they made a promise just then.
Grace didn't really dwell on that much. He was going to unpack that later, after he survives his job.
…The job that he was almost late for. He definitely looked like a hot mess when he walked in to Grover Cleaveland Middle School, looking severely tired in the middle of the week. He gets worried stares from his colleagues and kids, but he didn't feel that tired. He was still running on the high of whatever his encounter with Seb was.
It's only after he gets his caffeine fix in the break room where his brain slowly catches up with him. He scrunches his face as he tries to organise the thoughts in his head. He picks up a marker lying around his desk and starts to write on his hand:
-
Seb is no longer broke
-
Seb could've taken a cab to his hotel room
-
Seb chose to ride his bike with him
Hypothesis statement, Grace thinks again. Seb likes him back. His thoughts get interrupted as the bell rings to signal the start of the next class. He drops the marker on the desk, as he quickly rubs away the ink. He's now a science teacher with blue palms. He mentally tries to remind himself not to stain his work pants as he quickly gathers his class materials. He thanks his past self for actually planning ahead as he hurriedly makes his way toward his class.
Grace hopes his kids go easy on him today.
His colleagues are teasing him.
He is very much annoyed, and flustered. So, maybe, the whole faculty saw him all smiles like a maniac as he texts someone the phone the moment he gets a chance. It's a small whoop, in Grace's professional opinion. If anything, Grace is more so surprised that he hasn't been told off by his colleagues yet. His guess? They're finally happy that their single science teacher is expanding his horizons, voluntarily.
The science teacher has been propositioned himself several times, by several of his kids' parents. He's had to get some of his colleagues to step in for him when they get too rowdy. Grace could take them. But he also values not making another 'UNESCO' repeat so he was forced to play a pacifist role. This annoyed him greatly.
Still, he was made acutely aware of his dashing good looks. Grace knows that he's somewhat attractive objectively but it really was more of a pain. He gets along well enough with his colleagues and the parents but he did not like to be the centre of that kind of attention. Friendships are enough work to maintain, and sometimes he just wanted time to himself. And so, doesn't tell them about Seb. Grace feels all giddy hiding his newfound date like he's a teenager in those cheesy high school flicks because that's exactly what this feels like. It's nice.
When Seb offered to pick him up after work for their date, Grace was especially excited. A date. Now, this might be the first date that Grace can't wait for. He's been on dates before — he's had a girlfriend, before she eventually left him for Mark. That was then. This is now. And, this matters to Grace.
It's not everyday one gets 'romanced'. That's special to him. And you see, Grace isn't as oblivious as what his brother thinks. Seb's a gentleman. Seb's a brokenhearted man. Seb's a romantic piano man.
Grace? He's a cowardly manipulative ass-hole, honestly.
Grace is actively aware he's using the excuse of 'getting Seb his groove back' to get closer to the man. He couldn't really help it, it's Seb. He's been beating himself up about not getting the man's number that night. The memories of the bar, the way the world stopped mid-motion. It haunts him like a ghost. A ghost of what-ifs, of unrealised dreams. Who could blame him when the opportunity arises again?
It wasn't physical connection that he was after with Seb, it was that emotional spark. He could admit a man like Seb was attractive, but he was more so interested finally having someone he could potentially call his other half. While he did have his twin, it just wasn't the same. To clarify, he does love Colt. Too much sometimes, but to connect with someone intellectually? It was one of the reasons he went into Academia. Not that it particularly worked in his favour.
But, Seb would be exactly what he needed. Grace pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels like he's already setting himself up for disappointment. He psychs himself up. Focus, Grace. Don't force it, just go with the flow. He does one last check, turning off the fans and lights in his classroom. He quickly fumbles over his to desk to find his lanyard ID card and the rest of belongings. As he makes his way to the school's entrance out the front doors, he was unceremoniously beckoned by the sound of a car horn.
"What the fudging fudger!" Grace shrieks. His body jolts, frazzled. His hands goes to his heart to still the drumming beat. The teacher shakes his head as he quickly turns to the source of the noise: a man in a vintage car. "Seb!" He shrieks, huffing as he goes closer. "You could just text me!" The aforementioned man gives a cheeky smirk in return.
Seb takes the opportunity to unlock the car door from the inside, pushing it open. "For my science teacher." He quips. Grace rolls his eyes, before turning his attention to the bike rack where his own ride was parked. Just as Seb was about to hop out the car, the teacher raises his hands up to stop him. Grace drops his bags of belongings in the open seat.
From the driver's seat, Seb couldn't help but watch. He leans on the steering wheel, arms crossed, and watches. Seb supposed that he should've got out the car and helped Grace in hauling his bike over. His hand on the car door pauses as his eyes traces over Grace. The teacher has rolled up the sleeves of his blazer to reveal the actual muscle mass on the arm. He picks up the bicycle easily, putting in the back of the car before finally boarding. Grace turns his head when he hears Seb audibly gulping upon taking his seat. "Something wrong?" He presses out of concern.
Seb coughs, straightening out his suit. His hands wander from his neck tie to the rearview mirror, craning it to the side to meet Grace's eyes behind his glasses. He sets it back, tapping his steering wheel to a tune Grace swore was familiar. A beat. Eventually, Seb speaks up as he opens the glove compartment in search of something. "Is getting jacked a requirement for teaching?"
Grace tries to put his best poker face, but he no doubts know that Seb could see how flattered and flustered he was with the day he was struggling to respond immediately. He settles for: "Yeah, you like that?" This response gave Grace the vision of Seb subtly pouting. The piano man's face is strategically placed diagonally away from him but Grace could make an educated guess. He'll file this for later. Seb takes the opportunity to put on a tape. The music starts to play, as Seb slowly drives off. He's tapping on the wheel, humming the tune that Grace manages to recognise.
"This i—" "It's uh, from Monk, huh?"
The pair spoke at the same time. The pianist did a double take, staring back a Grace incredulously. He was absolutely gobsmacked. "You know Monk?" Seb smiles impossibly wide, "You know Japanese Folk Song?" Seb's doing a poor job at keeping his eyes on the road while also balancing his excitement.
Grace could see that the man was radiant with barely contained joy. "Yeah, I recognised it. Did some research because of you that day. Guess you really liked the guy, huh?" Grace quipped. That was apparently the right things to say because the it broke the dam that was Seb's stoic nature. He started to go and on, talking about how he would try and learn the Jazz solos by hearing, rewinding the tape over and over again until he got it right. Grace was amused — Seb really seemed like the type to do that.
It was nice to hear Seb talk about his passion. Not that Grace particularly understood every single nuance from the conversation but he could feel it, like a warm hug or the when the sun hits just right. The 'warm hug' turns into a vice grip as Seb makes a wrong turn shortly after. The hairs of body stood on end. His eyes wide as his glasses somehow manage to hang on his face. "Seb, please don't get us killed on the way to our first date."
"I'm a pianist." Seb responds easily, reversing back on the road fork like nothing happened. "Not a driver. Besides, you almost made us crash into an electrical pole on your bike a few days ago. Looks like we're even, Starshine."
It's really like looking at a mirror, Grace muses, an old, ornate vintage mirror. Is it narcissistic to like someone who reminds you of yourself? The sound of jazz drowns out Grace's thoughts as he pops a handful of sour skittles in his mouth. He prays that they reach the planetarium intact, the man promised him stars after all.
Well, they didn't die! Grace counted that as a win in his book. They are safe, sound and in the realm of Grace's expertise — science. Truly, Grace couldn't tell you many times he's been here but he does not mind one bit. Morrison's Planetarium was probably his favourite field trip location anyway. That's because his kids are as excited as he is whenever they're there.
For some reason, they really liked when he started explaining all about the exhibits. They liked him more than the allocated tour guide. Technically, it is more work on his part to share about the exhibits that the staff have already planned but he liked it anyway. The staff liked it too — they'd have less work on their hands. And that's how Grace manages to foster a interdependent relationship between him and the Planetarium staff. This leads to Grace's main plan. Yes, he did in fact have a plan today.
He sends a quick text to a worker that he knew to cash in a favour. Guess there are benefits to being well-liked, huh? Anyhow, he managed to convince Seb that there's a show at 8pm. He lied, there is no show at 8pm.
All Grace had to do while the staff sets something up for him was to buy some time. Thankfully, Grace is a grade-a yapper. And as a bonus, Seb's a grade-a listener. He's been attentively listening to Grace's spiel ever since they stepped foot in the facility. The pianist never failing to maintain eye-contact with him, always nodding along and responding to him. Always in deep thought as if he's actively invested in the conversation.
Grace feels so seen, it might be scaring him a little bit. Any moment now, as he recounts his past encounters, Seb's going to get tired of him and walk out. That's what the back of his mind says anyway. And every time, Seb…stays. Even if they walked and looped over some exhibits. Even as Grace accidentally shares the same stories. And even when Grace made them back track to Planetarium's solar system display he's seen a million times.
Grace shares more anyway. One of his favourite facts was the planetary party. Sounds cool, right? Well Seb thought so, nodding along as Grace starts to run his mouth. Also known as a planetary parade — it's known as the time where you can see planes all close together despite being a million miles apart. While explaining this phenomenon, a shiny plaque catches Grace's attention. The teacher stops in his tracks, Seb follows. The pianist takes the silence as a cue to read the plaque of science facts in front of them. He leans closer, squinting for dramatic effect. It reads, 'Water is life'. He chuckles, turning back to Grace. He makes his guess. "Your dissertation. Is that what you're thinking about?"
Grace smiles. Oh, he could eat Seb's brain. "Right on the money, piano man. It's not the only thing though. I'm sure you can guess that that whole Academia thing didn't work out well for me but I totally schooled the old man on live TV," Grace's smile gave way into a sigh. "…and also totally ruined my prospects in Academia with that stunt. I don't think I'd change anything though. I think I'd be absolutely miserable if I stayed, even if it was a dream of mine to known there. I'm infamous among them now…not that that's a good consolation."
"Why switch to teaching? I never got that part." Seb asks with an eyebrow slightly raised, "I know I said I'd be seated in the front row for you if you did teach, but I'm sure there's something more to it."
"Not really." Grace answers honestly. "I was a hot mess after that kerfuffle. In fact, the idea came to me as a joke. There's not really much you can do after getting kicked out — if you can't make it, teach. I took that personally and got humbled really quick. Did you know it's a whole lot of work and stress to become a teacher? We should really give them more credit— The main point is, your life won't end when a dream dies. Just…make a new one."
Grace feels like the funniest guy in the room when Seb snorts loudly, before that snort gave way to a boisterous laugh. Granted it was near closing time so there was only a handful of people left but the sentiment still stands. Grace continues anyway, " I mean…what's stopping us from making new dreams. I met my kids, I felt fulfilled. I'm happy with what I have right now, even if it's not something I planned when I was a kid. When you finally get your bar running, the scene won't just end for you right?"
Seb stills upon hearing that. Normally he'd have a comeback for anything but he seems genuinely stumped at this idea. Grace feels a bit bad — he didn't mean to give the man an existential crisis. He looks to his watch on his wrist. 7.45pm. Just 15 more minutes and he'll make it up to the man. To his surprise, Seb eventually responds. "I suppose it won't, huh? And, what if I'd like something like this?" Grace's jaw dropped.
"I know I called you Starshine, because I said you were pretty like the stars," Seb starts. "Now, I still agree with that notion but it got me thinking. Dreams are like stars, aren't they? When stars die, they shine the brightest. Sometimes you'd get so close to your dream, it shines like it's calling for you. And then, it's just gone. I felt like this for the longest time since…my real dream doesn't feel like something I want anymore. I felt lost, until you."
"Ah um, I didn't do much," Grace laughs, flustered and deflecting. " Y'know, supposedly, the most distant ones you can see with the naked eye are intrinsically brighter and are likely to die or be dead— but well, there's so many stars, aren't there. If dreams are like stars, then we'd have so many. I don't think you'd have to worry."
Seb looks at Grace, admiring him. His golden raincoat framing him as Seb's sun, with Seb stuck in his orbit. “How illuminating". Grace stops in his tracks hearing that, an impossibly big smile forming on his face. The two of them stand close together in silence until Grace's watch starts to beep loudly. Grace frantically shuts the sound off, as he tells Seb to meet him at the seating area of the projector room.
He runs off to the nearest bathroom.
Grace went to take a piss, probably.
That was Seb's hypothesis anyway as he sits in the projector room waiting for the show. There was virtually no one at the planetarium show — maybe it's because they picked a weekday, but Seb supposes it makes this a lot more special. He stares at his watch, it's been twenty minutes and Grace is still not back yet. His first instinct is to get up and check-up on him, but he did promise him. And so, he waits.
For Grace, he would.
When the lights suddenly dim, and he meets the illuminated stars that dances throughout the room, he's stunned. And when the familiar tune of 'Fly Me To The Moon' plays through the speakers — he grins.
"You little rascal, Grace!" He stands up, looking around the auditorium for Grace and also getting himself lost in the stars. He exits his row of seats, walking down the aisle to the base of the auditorium. He stills, when a light shines down on him. "What's all this?" He hears the door open, Grace smiling as he enters the room and closes them.
"Pulled a few strings, asked a favour. No ballroom but, I think this is a good substitute? I went to ask Paul — the projectionist — if he could do a special request for his favourite teacher." Grace could feel Seb's eyes staring into soul. "Er, because I teach one of his kids in school! He's married, so uh, nothing to worry about." Phew, good save Grace.
Seb has his arms crossed, "So what now? I thought I was supposed to do the romance part." Grace makes his way to the base of the auditorium, by Seb's side. "I didn't know you dance."
Grace wipes his glasses so he could get a better look at Seb. "I don't," Grace pauses, looking into Seb's eyes. "I was hoping you'd lead." Seb's eyebrows quirk up in amusement.
He nods, inviting Grace to his side with an open palm. Grace lets himself be manoeuvred. "Alright Starshine, my forefinger and my thumb are gonna start talking to your lower back. No one's here, it's just us."
One step forward, two steps back. Left to right. Back and forth. He tries his best to pay attention to the pianist. The places to hold, the steps to follow— "Starshine? Now, where are you looking?" Seb murmurs, tilting the other's chin up, "Let me be your moon. You're dancing with me, right? It's about us tonight."
Grace tries, really tries to keep up with the man. He does his best to keep his own breathing steady. Hands intertwined, they slowly move to the beat of the song. The clacking of Seb's heels made it easier for Grace to understand the rhythm but really, he was more so focused on their closeness. He dances by his side, sometimes stopping to spin Grace around, and Grace feels warm when he gets caught by the other's calloused hands. Grace doesn't know what possessed him so but he finds the courage to lead Seb instead as the song fades into another jazz piece from a pre-picked playlist.
He was clumsy, definitely. And absolutely, did he step on Seb's feet a few too many times. Still he takes a deep breath as he lifts Seb up carefully, twirling the pianist along the projected stars in the room. As Seb and Grace danced away, it was as if it was only them left on the world.
It was like how they first met. As if the world stopped mid-motion for them. If this was a dream, may both of them dream forever. And if their dream was a star, may that light never go out. Even if there's so many stars in the vast night sky. Grace is now a man for semantics, and he wants his star. He doesn't want to settle for something else.
Grace slowly places Seb down onto the floor. Slowly, the stars fade and auditorium lights flicker back on. Still, Grace has never felt so full before in his life. He can't place this feeling before and he can't stop wanting more of that warmth. He hesitantly reaches for Seb's hand again, and Seb? He grasps it gently yet still with a sense of firmness that makes Grace feel wanted. To be tethered by his newfound other half.
The trek back to Seb's car went by quick. And before long they were already at their seats, side by side, in the vehicle. The two sat in silence. But it wasn't awkward, no not all. It was comforting. Grace could still feel Seb's grasp on his own hand as he stares into the starry sky above them.
"Today was fun, like a lot of fun." Grace starts. "But I have to ask, is this it? One amazing night, and you're gone forever?" Seb tightens his grip.
"I had fun today too. The most fun I had in a long time." The pianist pauses, "I want to stay. You're not gonna get conventional with me but I'll try. Even if I'm stuck in LA for the foreseeable future, I'll make it work. I'll try, if you'd choose me." Seb finishes, sitting up straight. Both of his hands holding on Grace's left.
What does Grace want? Well, personally he wouldn't be opposed to a long distance relationship with the man. Los Angeles is where his twin brother is so there's more merit to the idea. When he's not visiting Colt, he could just spend the day with Seb. That very idea was absolutely tantalizing.
"I can try too," Grace starts. "I guess that means we're boyfriends. You can call me Ryland too. 'cause uh, we're uh very personal right now."
Seb sighs, fondly. "Well, Ryland, we can be boyfriends. I'm more partial to the word partner myself but fine, we can be juvenile boyfriends." Grace makes a face. Though, the sour face quickly gave way to astonishment when he was pleasantly greeted with a soft kiss on his lips. He was even more surprised himself when he didn't back away.
"Too forward?" Seb asks softly.
Ryland shakes his head, "Y-you can continue,"
He speaks, flustered out his mind. "Please, Sebastian." Grace adds, eloquently.
Seb nods, his head moving in to close the gap between the pair. "If anything makes you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? We don't have to, I don't mind. It's the least I can do. You gave me everything." Seb adds in softly as form of reassurance. Is it bad that Grace likes this? He could barely process that thought as his own body moves in on auto-pilot to chase for a second kiss.
Grace closes his eyes as he gives way to what he's allowing himself to feel. He whines when Seb licks over his lips, and then into his mouth. Grace could feel Seb getting over onto his side of the car, the tugging on his red dress tie as if to bring them closer to getter. Grace's own breathing start to get heavier — his hands moving to gently hold the back of Seb's head in a soft caress. Seb's own tongue slowly, and shyly exploring Grace's mouth, treating him with such care that absolutely gets him going. That's why Grace lets out a loud annoyed whine as Seb pulls away. Still close enough that Grace could feel the small hairs near right ear stand up. Seb's panting too. "Your glasses are fogging up," He points out. "As much as—"
"Hey, lovebirds."
The both of them scream a loud high pitched scream that neither of them knew they could make.
"Right," Paul, the projectionist intones. "Mr. Grace, we're cleaning the area. I'd suggest finding somewhere less…"
Seb's already out of Grace's lap. He turns on the engine, and immediately steps on the accelerator of his vintage car.
The pair has reached third base — if third base means literally sleeping together in the same bed. Grace could not care less. All he cared about was cuddling next to the piano man to feel his proximity, to feel his physicality. He was not taking chances about the dream thing, he was wrong before (it might have been the pills)
And so, lies the two of them on the soft hotel bed sheets of Seb's hotel room. Both wide awake, unable to sleep. It was Seb who breaks the silence this time, spurred by Grace's previous show of bravery. "One last tour and assuming the math is right, I can finally make it real. My very own Jazz bar."
He leans in closer to Grace, almost whispering next to his ear, as if the next few words were something shameful that Seb can admit to no one else but Grace. "It's been the only thing keeping me going. That, and the possibility of Mia. I'll always love her. It's a part of me, Ryland. But you? You've changed my tune." Grace snorts at that immediately. Seb rolls his eyes fondly. "I'm being serious here! When you said you recognised something because of me. I was happy. I don't think happy even begins to cover it. I was…" Seb struggles to find a word. "I was glad, that my music impacted you in such a way. I talk big game about Jazz and connecting with the people, but you…I'm touched you remembered me, I'm touched you saw me. Enough to go on one date even after I basically told you I got dumped, and pining over someone. I can't help but ask why."
"I think we're alike." Grace admits. "Same, but different. You know Jazz like I know molecular biology. Look, I don't exactly understand what you felt for Mia but it's not rocket science to know that you cared, you messed up and you need a pick-me-up. I've been there before — my pick-me-up was my kids. I mean, i got humbled real quick at how teaching can be but, I'm happy. I thought you'd feel better if you have someone like-minded I guess?"
"I do, I do feel better. Thank you, Ryland." Seb says, carefully grasping Grace's head. "I don't feel like I deserve this. To be happy like this. To have you as my star, my sun. I feel as if this is just some dream and that you'd be taken from me by the cruel hands of fate." A defeated laugh echoes the room. "How do you always find me when I'm at my lowest, and then bring me up to the highest of highs? You're my saving grace."
Grace connects their forehead, "You believed in me too. You saved me too." Grace reassures. "I mean sure, it blew up in my face but I'd rather get disgraced than to be in a field that I don't have any heart in. We define our own worth."
Seb smiles, "I can get behind that. What a lovely sentiment. Once I get my bar running, I think I'll almost be happiest man alive."
"Almost?" Grace asks, perplexed.
"I'll be the happiest, if you're there on opening day." Grace is fully stunned hearing that come out from the pianist' mouth. Just as he starts to stutter a response back, Seb continues anyway. "I want you to see it. You can even cut the ribbon, like it's a promise. Once my dream's realised I have another one to focus on after all."
Just like that, Seb rolls over and pins Grace down on the bed. The pair laughs giddily, Seb breaking the lock to lie close to Grace, hugging him tightly as they both lulled to sleep.
.
.
.
Everything was finally coming up Grace.
The two of them fit like two gears strung in an overly complicated Rube Goldberg contraption. And they were doing great! Grace just got off the phone with Seb with the latter mentioning that he finally settled most of the paperwork for Seb's new operational manager meaning that Grace will finally get the boss man for himself for the weekend. It's a temporary fix to be honest, but it's the proposed solution to their LDR . And that stands for Long-Distance-Relationship! Not that San Francisco and Los Angeles is very long per se, but if it requires Grace to take a flight over? Yeah, that's an LDR.
To be perfectly fair, he does visit LA quite often for his twin. So much so, Seb offered the idea of moving in together. As much as Grace would like that, he can't really commit to that just yet. They have all the time in world for that, right? He can't exactly uproot himself over. He has his kids…okay, mostly it's his kids. And his colleagues, and his neighbours. Grace is used to this normal. Maybe, next year? One more school year? Seb will have to convince him.
Grace sighs, leaning back on his cheap desk chair. Looking up at his solar system model, he starts to whistle City of Stars. His eyes traces the red line between the Sun and Venus specifically, recalling his last spiel during his Science lesson. He has just finished explaining the "space dots" news to his kids, and the concept of what could potentially be 'Global Freezing' their bright minds. Was it a bad idea? Probably. In Grace's defence, he didn't particularly want to instill fear in his students but he'd rather give them a clear explanation than fear-mongering garbage that they could be susceptible to on the internet these days.
Though, if the "space dots" thing was true…Grace scratches his head. Maybe he should actually make some plans with Seb about moving in together. He has this nagging feeling that they don't really have much left at all. And, well, he if he could spend his remaining days with someone he loves…Grace would be okay with that.
That's when he hears a voice. And then a knock, and then the sound of his classroom door getting pulled open. His whistling stops. His first thought was that it was another parent coming into give him a piece of their mind again — god help him. That thought perished when recognised it being tinged with a type of European accent. It's a stranger, it's not someone he recognises. He cautiously looks up, and there Grace saw her.
The lighting did not do her any favours, covered in shadows — it made him a little scared. It was as if he accidentally called a grim reaper into existence, and she's coming for his soul. How dramatic. He blames Seb. As the woman steps into the classroom with a confident gait and stoic expression, Grace's nagging feeling comes back tenfold. The sounds of children in the hallway adjacent to his classroom drowns away as he focuses on the presence in front of him.
"Eva Stratt, I'm with the Petrova Taskforce." She says, handing him his thesis from years ago. "I can give you a chance to prove them all wrong."