Playing with Fire

✨ Chapter Four | Fracture

— Carlos —

I should've known things were going too smoothly.

Chuck and I had really started to click. We successfully mapped out the rally route, shared some good laughs every time we hung out these days. I thought we were finally on the same page. Hell, I even let myself daydream for a minute that maybe, if we pulled this off, things between us might lead somewhere... If I could get over my issues.

I guess that was my first mistake: letting hope sneak in when I should've kept my guard up.

I should have known better. I got caught up in the dream of what be could be, instead of keeping my feet grounded in reality...

I was in the middle of setting up a table of basil and thyme at the farmer's market, my Saturday job every week to help pull in some extra cash, when my phone buzzed. It pulled me out of the rhythm of arranging plants in my table like a Tetris game.

I wiped my hands on my apron and pulled out my phone, frowning at the email that stared back at me like a punch to the gut.

'Subject: Sponsorship Withdrawal'

Shit.

I opened the email, my stomach sinking deeper with every word. The sponsor, the one who promised to cover half of the rally's costs, had pulled out. They cited concerns about the "direction of the event" and something about it no longer aligning with their brand image.

I didn't need to read between the lines to figure out what that meant.

"Fancy ideas," they'd said...

It was clear as day who they were pointing the finger at, and it wasn't Chuck with his straightforward, no-nonsense approach. It was me, the obviously gay dude with the tight shorts, flower tattoos, and 'fancy ideas.'

I leaned against the edge of my stall, staring at the email like I could will it into saying something different.

A sponsor backing out last minute was bad, like worst-case scenario bad. This could end the entire rally. Without their funds, we were dead in the water... no rally, no charity event, no chance to help Colton with his cause.

I thought of Chuck, how much this meant to him, how he wanted to make up for something in his past. And now, thanks to my "fancy ideas," we were screwed.

I pulled up Chuck's contact and hesitated, my thumb hovering over the call button. He wasn't going to take this well... I couldn't exactly blame him. He was worried about this, and I hated to admit that what he was afraid of had just happened.

He was going to be furious with me.

I could already picture the way he'd scowl, that little line between his brows deepening, and the way his voice would get all gruff when he was pissed.

But I had to tell him.

I hit call and waited as it rang, tapping my foot anxiously against the pavement. He picked up on the third ring.

"Carlos," Chuck answered. "What's up?"

"Hey," I started, my voice a little too upbeat for the news I had to deliver. "We've got a problem. Big one."