Willem knew that Jude loved working with Harold. He loved the research, the complete control he was able to exercise when he was organizing and arranging the information so Harold could read through it with ease.

"But Judy, don't you think you're stretching yourself a little to thin," Willem asked as he took another slice of grimy pizza from the box in front of them.  Malcom and JB were supposed to be there that night, but JB had decided to spontaneously visit his family, and Malcom had come down with a stomach bug; Willem and Jude had the night to themselves. It wasn't that Willem wanted Jude to stop working for Harold, in fact, he believed it was good for him. Harold truly cared about Jude-he cared about all of them really-but Jude seemed genuinely proud of the work he accomplished, and was always talking about how highly he thought of Harold.

Willem had been shocked at first when he had received a call from Jude. He had sounded almost panicked-Willem would later learn that he had been in the bathroom of Harold and Julia's house-and was asking Willem what he truly thought of Harold, and if it was strange for someone to invite you to dinner after work. Willem had responded by saying that several directors he had respected and worked with often invited him to dinners while working on productions, and there was nothing weird-at least to him-about being invited over for a meal.

"Besides Jude, if something goes wrong, you can always leave. But try to enjoy the night okay?" Jude had agreed and abruptly ended the call, saying he needed to leave and he would see him at home. Willem knew then that somehow, Harold and Julia managed to get through to him; Willem personally knew how high and strong Jude's walls had become over time and was overjoyed that Harold had gotten through them. It was the start of something incredible, he knew it was.

"I don't think so. I enjoy working with Harold," Jude responded with a shrug, "I think I'm getting along just fine." Willem felt heat rush to his cheeks and quickly cleared his throat.

"I wasn't trying to say you're not-"

"I know, Willem. I wasn't trying to imply that you were. I understand your concerns, but I'm used to working hard. In fact, I prefer it." Jude leaned his head back on the couch and took a deep breath in. The apartment smelled strange, the scent of the pizza mixing with the fresh Tres Leches he had made specifically for JB. He knew it was going to go to waste now. He didn't particularly enjoy rich cakes, and Willem was trying a new diet. He had already cheated by eating pizza, but he drew the line at something that specifically had 'milk' in the name.

"I think Harold thinks of you more like a friend than a research assistant Judy," Willem casually remarked as he placed his half finished slice back in the box. Jude instantly tensed and turned to face Willem.

"What do you mean by that," he whispered, his voice suddenly small and timid. "I'm only doing research for him Willem, there's no way anything else is going on." Willem chuckled, and stretched his long arms behind his head.

"I know, but not all bosses ask you to come over to dinner every time you work, you know what I'm saying?" Jude could feel his hands begin to shake, and tried to calm his breathing, tried to stay grounded in the apartment.

"I thought you said it was normal," he argued as he pressed himself off of the couch and picked up the empty pizza box and water cups. "When I asked you about it you said it was okay." He moved to the kitchen, which was only a couple feet away from Willem and the couch, but at least with his face turned he could breath through his mouth. He could try to still his hands.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing Jude. You know how much I admire Harold, I think what you two have is-"

"We don't have anything Willem," Jude hissed as he turned around. Willem's face slowly shifted from amusement to shock as he took in Jude's sudden shift in attitude.  Was he wrong for thinking that Harold and Jude were more than just a boss and an employee? Maybe Harold did invite his assistants to dinner as a formality. Did Jude feel like he wasn't anything special because Harold treated everyone this way and he had simply misinterpreted.

Harold had always been kind to everyone else in their friend group too. Maybe Harold was generous and caring towards everyone. Maybe Jude wasn't particularly special.

"I...I'm sorry Jude. I just assumed-"

"Well stop assuming, okay Willem? If something was going on, I'd let you know." Both of them sat in silence, staring at each other from across the room, wondering how to dissolve the awkward beast that had formed between them.

"I uh, I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I need something to take to a cast potluck we're having before the last show tomorrow night. What do you think a good food is," Willem asked as he stood up and made his was towards Jude.

"Just take the cake Willem, neither of us are going to eat it." Willem frowned down at the cake and shook his head.

"What if JB decides to show up later tonight? Or what if I want some?" Jude shrugged and reached into a cabinet, searching for plastic cling wrap.

"You can always have some tomorrow night then." Willem sighed and leaned against the wall, closely watching as Jude stretched his arm up towards the top shelf.

"Listen, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Judy. And we're never like this. Can we move past it for now or do you need to talk?" Willem hoped Jude would talk. He always did. Jude would sometimes shut down at what seemed to be the most random times, or the most casual topics. Willem had always guessed that Jude had had a rough childhood. Maybe neglected or simply jaded by floating around the foster system that he claims to have been in for most of his teenage years. But Willem felt as though he was never going to be told, that Jude would forever be a man of mystery. Someone with a past that obviously affected him to this day, that he would never lose.

"I um-" Jude turned towards the couch again, a thin smile stretching awkwardly across his otherwise grim features. "I appreciate it Willem, I really do. But I think I'm just going to go to bed. I have to get to class early tomorrow, ask a couple of questions before my test."

Willem knew he was lying, Jude never had the courage to ask questions. He felt as though he was proving something by teaching himself if he was confused. It was how he worked in school-and it seemed to follow him into his personal life as well.

"Ok, thanks for buying dinner Judy," Willem sighed as he settled deeper into their musty couch. "I think I'm going to stay out here a while, will I wake you up if I come to bed later?" Jude shook his head and moved slowly towards the couch.

Willem looked sad but was trying to cover it with a smile that was too wide-the ones that he used on stage-and he knew he was doing the same. You could probably sense the tension down the hall-radiating like heat from their tiny shoebox apartment.

"No, I don't think so Willem. See you in the morning." Willem nodded and watched Jude trudge to their room, feinting exhaustion with an overexaggerated yawn.

"Good night Judy," he whispered, disappointment dripping from his throat.

What had gone wrong that night, he might never know.

He never knew, and he never had the words to mend what went wrong in situations like these. It was a part of living with Jude that he knew he would never understand and never accept. Why was it so hard for them to communicate? What had happened to Jude that caused harmless conversations to become dangerous negotiations? At times like these, he felt like he would never know. But that was part of living with Jude.

You had to take what you could get, you had to accept the precious moments when he was simply Jude-not every complicated piece of unknown information from his past. Not his insecurities, or his fears, simply Jude. A man who laughed with ease, loved his friends even when they were in the wrong, expressed his passions, and spoke of his work with an immense amount of pride.

But multiple times a day, that Jude would disappear, replaced by a void. Someone that couldn't be reached-let alone comforted.

Willem knew that when they decided to move in together. He knew he would need to put in more work while also providing space for the void to fade. In moments like that he knew, he was simply signing a truce. An agreement that in the morning everything would return to normal, as long as this version of Jude received the space and privacy it required.

He just didn't know how much longer he could keep signing.