Clusterfuck

xxiv

So, after deep consideration, Toby has decided that maybe he is living in a real-life romcom, because at the moment, he is partaking in one of the most infamous clichés that goes like something along the lines of "chasing after your dream man because you just realized how you truly feel about him, so quick, go, before it's too late."

Not that Leo is Toby's, quote unquote, "dream man."

But, like, not that he's not.

So basically, fuck his life.

But... not just yet. In case things go well.

Another thing about the end of March is that daylight savings time is back in business again (thank goodness), so it's not remotely dark when Toby arrives at the gallery around 5:15. A little bit later than what Steph suggested, but it wasn't his fault that Reggie chose tonight to have a meltdown about his upcoming gymnastics competition, and basically clung to Toby for upwards of twenty minutes before Toby finally managed to peel him off and get his ass out the door. So. He just hopes it doesn't affect much.

He doesn't even know what's going on here. What's the "special occasion?"

Toby has no idea, but when he climbs out of the car and sees a man in a steamed suit with a lace-adorned woman on his arm, he understands why Steph advised dressing nicely. Although, he wasn't aware she meant this nice. So all he did was throw on a white button down and a pair of black slacks, shirt untucked, and call it a day. He didn't think this would be a tie kind of deal.

Whatever. He rarely wears anything other than sweatpants. Nobody should expect much more from him, anyway.

Toby enters the gallery after the gussied up couple and sees the same woman—Sophie, if he's remembering correctly—that had been there the night before Leo's birthday, which seems like an eternity and a half ago. She glances up at him from whatever she's jotting down onto a sticky note and smiles through her red lips.

"Hello again," she greets kindly. "It's been quite a while."

Toby honestly didn't even think she'd remember him. "Uh, yeah," he mumbles, restraining himself from shoving his hands into his pockets. "I was just wondering—what's happening here tonight?"

"You don't know?"

"Ah... no, not really. Someone just. Told me to come."

"I see. Well, we're having a bit of an unveiling of sorts for a certain painting," she explains. "The ceremony's already begun, but you shouldn't have a problem sneaking in there. It's just around the corner, and to your left."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Enjoy, darling."

An unveiling... so what would Leo be hired for tonight? Like... serving food and drinks?

Toby follows Sophie's instructions, which leads him to a large set of oak doors that he squeezes through, not paying much mind to the sign out front that... well, it probably would have given him a few more details than he has. But he's already past the doors and there are a buttload of people in here, so to walk back out would be way too embarrassing. So. He's still going into this almost completely blind.

The main hall is giant, with its high ceilings and distant walls and sleek wooden floors. People in suits and ties and dresses and blazers are swarmed around a very large painting, which is currently concealed by a velvet curtain, as they listen to someone speak whom Toby can only assume is the artist. He doesn't pay much attention to their speech, considering his head is fully set on scouring the crowd and placing that lone-dimpled face. But there's way too many people here. In a moment of desperation, Toby genuinely considers pulling aside a gallery worker or caterer and asking where Leo is. Which terrifies him.