Chapter 22

Beau looked over his new semester's grading pile. Once a thrill to dig into to find the prize of the stack, he'd returned back to his loathing sessions. Every ounce of happiness he'd felt last semester was long gone. He was back to his pariah ways, only accompanying the men for a night out if it benefited his status in the slightest. A knock came at the door, and for a second Beau dreamed he was still in a period where Victoria would be entering the door to share a kiss.

"Come in," he monotonly spoke.

Reed entered, which Beau supposed was the next best thing after Victoria. At least it wasn't that weasel, Walcott.

"Beau, mind if I have a word with you?"

"Not at all. I'm just sitting here dreading the usual."

"That's my primary reason for visitation. I cannot help but notice that you've seemed rather depressed lately. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, just the usual."

Reed wasn't buying it. The pure smile he'd been carrying around for the last few months had suddenly disappeared.

"Did something happen with your girlfriend?" he flat out asked.

Beau didn't look up, but he didn't have to. The way his breathing had quickly changed from depressed to choking made it clear the answer was yes. "I don't know what you mean, Reed. I have no girlfriend."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you mind me asking what happened?"

"Because you are officially the only person I now trust in Vancouver, I'll tell you."

Reed furrowed his brow. "That bad, huh?"

"As it turned out, my girlfriend was a whore."

"She was a prostitute?!" he was taken aback himself.

"No. She was a stripper."

"Oh. So not exactly a whore then."

"Any woman that thinks it is okay to expose herself for money is a whore in my book."

"How'd she break it to you?"

"She didn't. I.." Beau hated admitting he was even there. "I got dragged to a bachelor party for my friend, and we wound up at her place of employment."

"Oh, that's considerably awful. I'm so sorry, I know how fond you were of her. Is there anything I can do to console you?"

"I'll be okay. It was in December. I guess I've just gone back to my curmudgeon ways. Is my depression really that noticeable?"

"For miles, Beau. You can't keep locking yourself up away from the world. At least spend some time with me. It isn't healthy for you to drag on alone."

"I suppose. I sure as hell don't know what is good for me," Beau whimpered, doing his best to keep his true sadness hidden. The truth was he could cry and cry, but that wasn't an option at work.

"I must ask, why can't you just…accept her for what she does? I'm sure she has her reasons."

Reed certainly was the wisest of them all. But he didn't agree with his take one bit. "She did, actually, and they were very real and understandable. But when a man who loves you offers to support you financially in exchange that you stop exposing yourself to others, and you say no, I cannot look passed that. I have a reputation to uphold."

"What reputation? The one of you being happy for once, or the one of you that looks like you are coming off a weekend bender?"

Beau had never heard such harsh words from a friend before. "Excuse me? I don't think I appreciate your tone."

"Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole Beau. You know I'm your friend and I only want what is best for you. And I know that in the years of which I have known you, I've only seen you truly happy those months that you were with a beautiful woman who truly loved you back. Are you saying that keeping up with the Jones' of Vancouver is worth losing your real happiness for what others think of you? This isn't about what others think of you, it is what you think of you. I think you're making a big mistake. Yes, I'd be upset if my wife was a stripper. But I'd also hear her out, understand where she's coming from, and look at the bigger picture."

"And what is the bigger picture, exactly?" Beau continued to display his disagreement.

"I would love my wife no matter what she did for work. She's still a person outside of her field, the same way you're not the drone behind a podium that you've convinced yourself you are."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'd die if anyone else found out I dated a stripper."

"Oh Beau, you're turning into Adam. That alone should tell you that your mind is in the wrong place. But I'll support you, no matter what decision you make. I'm here for you, friend," Reed proceeded to stand up and make his way to the exit. He waited for Beau to say anything, but he didn't. Perhaps it was because Beau was finally listening to sound advice, and he wanted to soak it all in.