Murdoc quickly walked over to the bluenette's table, filling the vacant chair. The mystery person must've had to make a quick stop before coming by the bar as Murdoc did. He figured until the person showed up, he could hangout with Stuart.

"Hey Stu, 's been awhile 'asn't it?" The shorter of the two greeted, smiling at the other.

"U-Uh, yeah... 'm glad you coul' make it." Stuart blushed, fumbling with his hands.

"Make it? Were you expectin' me or somethin'?" Murdoc laughed, oblivious to the situation at hand. Before the other had a chance to speak, the raven haired boy spoke again.

"It looks like your expectin' a date of your own, mate. Never told me you 'ad a girlfriend. I 'appen to be here waitin' for a bird myself. Mind if I hang out with you 'til then?"

Stuart's expression fell at the other's words. Murdoc hadn't been expecting a guy- of course not! Murdoc had probably been wanting for some cute girl to have been behind those letters. He probably would've never thought a guy would be writing him such things- let alone Stuart.

Suddenly, the taller man's confidence broke. He no longer felt good about confessing his unrequited feelings to Murdoc who would probably laugh at him if he knew.

As he stared into Murdoc's beautiful, dark brown eyes, he felt his heart shatter. It was at that moment that he knew he never stood a chance of winning the other's heart. No matter how many letters he wrote or how many tears he cried- his feelings would never be acknowledged. It was just a fact he'd have to live with, no matter how much it killed him. Murdoc wasn't gay.

"I don' mind. You can 'ave tha' beer there if ya wan'. I don' fink my date's showin' up tonigh'." Stuart said with a sad smile, taking a sip of his own concoction.

"'m sorry to hear that, mate. Somethin' 'appen between you two?" Murdoc asked, not yet touching the drink.

"Not really. I was jus' gettin' my hopes up."

Murdoc, feeling sorry for the younger man, leaned over and placed his hand on the other's shoulder.

"Nonsense. I'm sure the two of ya will patch things up eventually. 'Til then, I'll keep ya company for tonight. Sounds good?"

Stuart nodded glumly, wishing he were already drunk so this wouldn't hurt as much as it did.

. . .

The two men spent the night getting drunk off their asses, both for different reasons. Murdoc simply hadn't had a drink in a while and enjoyed the burning sensation it granted while Stuart was trying to get over his heartbreak with the very man who had caused it.

Murdoc had also made a mental note that his mystery person never showed up. Perhaps they were scared off by him, or just decided that now wasn't the right time after all. Either way, he couldn't help but feel let down.

"'ey Stu, 'ave you ever fallen in love b'fore?" A very drunk Murdoc asked as the bar began emptying out due to most people having work the next day.

"I... yeah... I 'ave." The less drunk bluenette responded, awkwardly shifting in his seat at the straightforward question.

"What's it like?"

"Painful."

. . .

The next day, Murdoc decided to skip school due to his killer hangover from all the alcohol he drank the previous night. He had no idea what fate had befallen Stuart, but hoped he was okay and decided he'd visit him tonight at his job.

Meanwhile, Murdoc wrote his mystery person about the incident last night, questioning why they never showed.

-----

I didn't see you at the bar, everything alright?

-----

He didn't want to seem too desperate so he kept it short and sweet. He strung up the note to its usual place where exchanged then wrapped himself up in the warm, navy blue blanket, and decided to take a nap.

. . .

Murdoc was beyond desperate.

A week had gone passed since the bar mix up and since then, he hadn't heard a word from his mystery person. At first, he just started with the one note, asking them why they didn't show that night. Then, as the week passed by, one note multiplied to two, multiplied to ten, and by the end of the week, twenty-seven scattered, desperate letters laid unread at the bassist's hideout.

It was like his mystery person had dropped off the face of the planet.

Or maybe they just stopped caring. He wouldn't have been surprised if they didn't care this whole time. No one else did, why would someone make an exception. Murdoc knew he shouldn't have raised his hopes, it was a stupid concept from the get-go.

Someone caring about him? Never in a million years.

Meanwhile, Stuart hadn't been coping much better since the bar either. He must've written a million notes explaining to Murdoc what had happened that night, but none of them managed to make it past the rubbish bin in his bedroom.

He'd grown more depressed in that week. Skipped out on school, took off time from work, and stayed kaput in his bedroom; barely eating or drinking anything unless it was forced down him.

As expected, his parents grew worried and asked him if he wanted to talk about it or if he needed therapy. Stuart obviously declined, not wanting to come out to his parents about his gay feelings for a bad boy. They'd probably kill him if they knew.

Stuart tried to convince himself that maybe he didn't like Murdoc. Maybe, in his eyes, Murdoc was just an admirable bloke who had irresistible dark brown orbs he could stare into all day, a rare yet extremely adorable smile that would make his heart pound, and broad shoulders that he may or may not have found rather attractive. He couldn't even kid himself.

But it wasn't just his looks that Stuart admired; Murdoc was also really sweet when it came to the letters he wrote. Sometimes he'd write little jokes in the letters and he'd always ask the 'mystery person' if they were doing okay. There was even one specific note where Murdoc had thanked the 'mystery person' for just writing to him which Stuart assumed was incredibly rare.

But then again, this out-of-the-ordinary behavior from Murdoc was probably all because he thought a bird was on the other side of those letters. Not him.

Murdoc. Wasn't. Gay.