I Start to Feel Myself Smile (Slowly Losing Myself)

Chapter 1

Guy Fieri considers himself a smart person. Not overly smart, but smart enough.

So it is with this trust in himself—in his common sense, in his situational awareness and his being aware of his surroundings—that he chooses to meet up with Horace.

They'd started talking three months ago. The two had matched on Grindr and, like what is meant to happen when you strike the box with its match, sparks flew.

It wasn't a gradual thing. For the first week, it was a casual relationship. Not quite friendship, though they did toe the line between strangers and friends.

Then, somewhere in the second week, they started talking more. No longer were their conversations limited to the early hours of the morning before they had to go to work; instead, they would talk whenever they could. Guy would text Horace any second he could. Lunch breaks, when he woke up, as he lie in bed, and he'd even sneak his phone to work and text Horace when things slowed down.

Horace always replied fast. He still does.

(Guy chooses to ignore the feeling in his gut that tells him something is off about Horace and the way his phone always seems to be within reach, even when he says he has work.)

So it's with this hope and any confidence he could muster up that he waits for Horace.

Both men had agreed to meet at the Ohio State Fair. Guy waits in front of the Heritage Crafts store, near the North entrance.

It has only been five minutes, and yet his stomach twists and turns and aches with nervousness. Not because he thinks Horace might show him up (he wouldn't), but because Guy is Just Like That.

He's never been the most outspoken person. He prefers to be on tv, where there's a set conversation. Food is a familiar topic to him, and it's comforting to know that both parties are interested in it.

Outside of the show, however, there is no such comfort.

That's why speaking to Horace, even the idea of it, has Guy taking deep breaths to calm the tension in his muscles.

Then he sees him.

Horace's bald head shines faintly in the sunlight, which makes the lumps in his head stand out beautifully, like small hills in an open field, sand dunes that stretch across the beach. He wears a red onesie with a blue collar; his favorite, Guy Fieri recalls.

His blue eyes search the crowds.

Guy has never felt so compelled to get lost in someone's eyes before.

But Horace's eyes are so blue, so very blue, that even from a distance you can see their color. They hold a small portion of the sky, endless and vibrant and oh so clear. It's so easy, so tempting, to get lost in them, like an amateur pilot navigating the sky, knowing they have to land sooner or later lest the fuel runs out, yet wishing, wanting to stay up in the clouds.

The moment that Horace spots him makes all of the nerves, all of the "what ifs" worth it.

The moment (the short-lived, minuscule, yet earth-shattering moment) that Horace sees him for the first time, the people around him fade into the background. He sees Horace see him see Horace, and Guy's heart is positively racing, and it's just the two of them. It's just the two of them, no one else. Only the two of them, two strangers who met online, and only separated by the air between them.

At that moment, Guy realizes that maybe, just maybe, his life has been leading up to this moment. He is not religious by any means, but it feels as though the Universe and whatever God may or may not reign over their small, insignificant world filled with close-minded species, wants them to be together.

Horace smiles and saunters over to him, and Guy can barely keep himself upright. Something burns and flutters in his chest, his face hot. But the latter, the way his face heats up, is from the sun shining unmercifully overhead.

Duh.

"Hello," Horace says. His voice is deep and quiet. "I've been so excited to meet you, Guy."

He speaks in a slow drawl, his voice a smooth baritone, clear and calm. Horace takes his time with his words, just as he took his time walking over. His voice is a soft, cool wind when you're sweating under the heat of July's sun, bringing the relief of finally going to the bathroom after hours of holding it in. The slow way he talks makes it seem like they have all the time in the world, and that nothing ever truly ends—in only continues to begin again.

Horace is laid back, he can tell, in a way that Guy's persisting nervousness would never allow him to be. And, again, he takes his time as his hand wraps around Guy's bicep. His fingers are short and thin, but warm with comfort in a way the scorching hot sun never could be.

"Me too," Guy says. His nervousness is still there, but it doesn't hide the sincerity in the statement.

Horace smiles, and Guy smiles back.

"Where are we going first?"

"We could go see the animals," Guy suggests.

Horace still hasn't let go of his arm, and Guy can't bring himself to move away from it.

--- - .--.

They stay at the fair until nine in the afternoon. While walking to the entrance, Guy is prepared to call an Uber to take him back to his hotel, where he'll be staying the night so that he can take his flight to California in the morning.

He tells Horace this, and he's met with blue eyes staring contemplatively at him.

"What is it?"

"I can give you a ride," Horace suggests. His eyes hold an emotion the Guy doesn't quite recognize.

It's probably nothing, he tells himself.

...which is what people think before they're kidnapped. So, on second thought—

"No, it's, uh, fine," Guy says awkwardly. "Y'know, those uh. Those gas prices? Not worth it. Thanks though."

Guy starts to walk away. It's decently dark outside, and the parking lot is oddly empty of life. There aren't any people around, only him and Horace.

He knows that he's stronger than Horace; he could very easily beat him in a fight if it came down to it. But Guy Fieri has never been a fighter.

"You know," Horace says from behind him. Guy stops, but doesn't look back. It doesn't sound like Horace has moved at all.

Until he does.

The footsteps are almost silent, and the only clear indicator that Horace has moved at all is the moment when, in a chilling voice, he says, "I spent a lot of time in hospitals."

Then, Guy feels something stab him in the neck as something is injected into his vein. He turns to Horace dizzily, ready to say something, but before he can even make a sound, everything goes black.