The curtain was drawn, the theater was dark, and full. On stage, the woman was bewailing her fate: “Oh, does this pain never stop? Will surcease come? What sin have these hands committed that ...” and on the familiar, Shakespeare-like shouting went. Rhys knew it by heart.

But right now, Rhys was trying in vain to not step on toes; he had spotted what looked like the only empty seat in the entire theater, right there in the middle of the back row. But it was so dark -- and he did not see the young man coming in from the other aisle.

He did, however, end up sitting right on top of the guy, right on his lap (and it was quite comfortable, too, and familiar somehow) -- but with all the angry looks and hushes coming from both sides, he was afraid to move. Especially when an arm came around him and pulled him in closer. “This feels so familiar somehow,” a voice whispered.

It sounded familiar to Rhys, too.

Rhys was suddenly shivering; was the back of his right ear being licked?

“I’d know that taste, that scar, anywhere; I was there when it happened,” the soft voice whispered.

“Oh, the universe swirls and turns, and things go round and round! And you must beat the others to what you most dearly desire, or lose them!” came from the stage in a very unladylike bass.

Rhys had such a violent flashback he almost fainted. Fourteen years it had been, and he had been fourteen years old; they were all about that age, a little old to be playing musical chairs at someone’s birthday party, but there they were, trotting around a double row of chairs, determined to not be the odd one out. Wasn’t it this same song playing on the turntable? Or, no, wait, something operatic, though probably more likely from Bugs Bunny. And the same thing had happened.

The music ended. So did the play, and in the noise of the applause, Rhys turned his head and whispered into this seatmate’s ear, “Dylan? Dylan Andrews, is that you?”

Much laughter from beneath him. “I beat you then and I beat you now! Stay here for Act Two; I liked it then, I mean, you on top ... Oh jeez! I’m sorry!”

Rhys couldn’t resist putting a small smooch on Dylan’s ear. “I liked you beneath me too, then and now!”

An elbow caught him in the shoulder. “Shh! Act Two is starting!

Rhys and Dylan had time to catch each other’s eyes, and the irony of that remark made them laugh out loud.