Brady's earliest memory is of a fur his age being hit by a truck, just outside his home window. He was five years old. He wasn't really mature enough to grasp the idea of death in an intellectual sense, but he knew enough to know it was bad. That day was frozen for him, unchanging, a memory so pure he found his mind often drifting to it when he was bored or distracted. The coming days and weeks after were made up less of substantial memories, and more a series of thematic impressions. His recollection of the time after Lester's death was one of emotion, rather than experience. He knew there was a funeral, although he recalled nothing about it. In a small community, a death is big news, especially one as horrific and shocking as Lester Bryan's.

The town grieved unanimously, and the older furs of the area would later say that something 'in the air' had changed after that day. Lester's death had been a knife straight into the soul of the closely knit community, and they expressed their grief not by exchanging words, but in the little motions or lack thereof. It was in the look the market bagger gave you as she packed your groceries, or the way a mother gripped tightly onto her young kit's paw as they crossed the road. You could see it in the way furs would frown and groan whenever trucks would move through the town, complaining about 'the noise' they made. It was as if the attitude of the town had been a small well, filled with clean water that all could drink from. After Lester's death, something happened to the well that poisoned it, tainting it somehow. The town's memory began anew that day, and furs unconsciously agreed to cease talk about the time before.

Growing up in the town was an experience difficult to describe in words, because the young furs had an ever-present sense of loss and mourning that they couldn't quite attribute to anything in particular. Of course, they all knew about the what of Lester's accident, but they were too young to really know either him or his family personally. Speaking pragmatically, the town's youth hadn't actually lost anything, not really. Yet still, they grew with hurt brooding deep inside them, a yearning hunger for something missing that they could never articulate. Maybe it isn't something that can truly be explained; maybe it's just something you have to grow up with to comprehend. It hid in the quiet moments before the school bell rang, or the silence as students shuffled from class to class, a sombre taste in the air. Everyone knew you weren't supposed to talk about it; Lester's accident was something for late at night talk, behind closed doors. The tragedy took on the attitude of a myth, despite happening at a time when most of the town could clearly recall it.

One day, out of the blue, Lester's family upped and disappeared. They said nothing, gave no warning and did it in the middle of the night. It was only three months after the pup had been killed, when the wound was still fresh and raw in the town's mind. Their vanishing act served only to add to the mythic nature of the accident. Everyone had their own version of why the Bryan's left so secretively, but nobody knew the truth. They never made any attempt to contact the furs they left behind in the town, or if they did whoever it was they contacted kept quiet about it.

It wouldn't be connected to what happened to Lester at all, but years later furs would comment that the kids these days seemed worse. They seemed crueller than before, colder. With all of the rock fights, bullying, drug-use and the like forming the town's basis for lunchtime gossip. These sorts of things always exist in small towns, and had in the past, but it seemed somehow more visible now. It was as if now you could feel the quiet violence, the seething anger of the town.

An old otter one night, drunk off his face in the town pub, forgot the unspoken rule. He was too inebriated to recall that it was improper to speak of Lester Bryan in public. The pub was quiet that night, but there were enough furs around to notice his ranting.

“It ruined us you know, what happened to the Bryan pup." He'd said, slurring his words. That instantly garnered attention, and some acquaintances of the old otter tried to begin escorting him outside, but he wanted none of it. “We all crowded around that day, we got together and wept and sobbed and talked and fucking talked about how hard it was. We said that poor Lester was such an angel, that he didn't deserve to die like that. But we lost our innocence. I know, I do know, don't tell that I don't. I see it in the way you all fucking look at me, hell in the way you look at each other. It ruined us. Don't you know it's dangerous to confuse children with angels?"

     Brady leaned on the railing, looking over the side of the bridge at the water below. He watched the murky water slowly drift below him, flowing under the bridge and further on down the river. He wished he could dive in, sink below that placid surface and just let himself be carried away on the current. Washed clean. He thought. He felt his muscles getting stiff, and tried rolling his paws and neck to loosen them up. It was a warm day; the sun was shining a dry heat down onto the back of his neck, causing a charming build-up of sweat down his back. The harsh light glared off the river's surface, a bright spot off to the side beaming straight into his face and causing the wolf to squint. He shut his eyes and felt the breeze, tried to picture what one of his University lectures looked like. When he realised he couldn't, he opened his eyes again. That world felt so distant, it had only been a few weeks, but he found himself barely able to remember anything he'd learned this last term. It didn't matter really; he'd be back there two weeks from now, and could put everything that happened in this fucking town behind him. Well. He thought. At least until next break. He sighed, feeling tired and sleepy in the heat. He didn't know what to do about any of it. He had no plan.

He wanted to help Oliver, but also found the idea of seeing the dog almost repulsive, and he had no idea why. He'd always assumed that the two would be friends forever; sure they might drift closer and farther apart here or there, but to ever wish the friendship was over…he hadn't expected that in his life. The worst part was that Ollie hadn't really done anything. Well, he was innocent so long as you didn't count pushing Brady out a window, getting arrested and then lying to his 'best friend'. The wolf swallowed back his anxiety, just wishing it would all go away.

“Hey." The familiar voice shook Brady out of his stupor, and he turned his head to see Max walking up, holding two takeaway cups of coffee. “I got you this." He said, passing one to Brady, who gladly accepted it.

“Thanks." The wolf replied, cautiously sipping the hot drink. The cheetah leaned on the bridge next to him, looking down the length of the river to the point where the water vanished behind the horizon.

“I'm really sorry Brady. I didn't want to...I don't know." Max began, his ears drooping. Brady looked over at the cat, who indeed seemed genuinely apologetic. “You just seem to be the only fur in this fucking town I can talk to."  

 “I know what you mean." Brady said. And it was true. Things between him and Oliver had broken down, Marley was barely his friend really and he only knew Paul in passing. He attempted once to talk to his parents about it, but as always his father was weirdly distant and vague while his mother just agreed with whatever unhelpful advice he gave. Brady's father liked to give advice along the lines of 'try listening to them' or 'you've just gotta relax'. Awesome, thanks Dad.

“What I did was really fucking uncool, I know that. I'm glad you gave me a chance to try and uh…I dunno, fix it." Max said sheepishly, his face growing red as he remembered pressing his paw against Brady's crotch.

“Have you...ever had sex with anyone Max?" Brady asked, raising an eyebrow. It was a question he'd been wondering for a few days now; after all, the cheetah had said it himself: gay furs, especially emotionally compatible ones, were hard to find in small towns. Max hesitated, looked away as his ears dropped lower, and then shook his head slowly.

“N-no. Not really. I mean a friend of mine and I did...some stuff once, but it was really just messing around and we were like, fifteen or whatever. He has a girlfriend now." He admitted, taking another sip of his coffee, just to do something with his paws. Brady sighed.

“That's okay, I was just curious. You did act very…um, porn-ish." He explained, sipping his drink.

“That obvious huh?"

“Mhmm." Brady replied, eliciting a slight laugh from the cheetah. “Nobody really acts like that dude." He said, laughing with the big cat, not unkindly. When their childish giggles had died down, the two stood there in silence. They continued to drink their drinks and watch the river go past.

“I really like you Brady." Max said abruptly, after their momentary silence had finished. He blurted the words out, as if he'd been wanting to say them but too nervous until right now. When the wolf looked he saw that Max was staring at him with wide eyes, like a kid that asked to stay up past his bedtime.

“I..." He started, and then stopped. How did he feel about Max? Would the cheetah make a good boyfriend? That was clearly an option here but Brady was frozen with indecision. They'd have to be long distance, unless Max moved to the city, and did the wolf really want to take something from this god damned place back to his 'real life'? What if Max was spoiled like the rest of the town? Like Oliver and Marley, sick and fucked up in ways that neither of them really knew?

“I've never trusted anyone like you before. I feel like I could trust you with anything. Which I know doesn't make sense; we really don't know each other that well but…yeah." Brady froze, the surface of his face hot, while his internals plummeted to sub-zero temperatures. He didn't know what to do. He was consumed by the urge to run away, to throw his coffee in Max's face and leap off the bridge, try swimming to freedom.

“I…" He stuttered again, his mouth hanging open stupidly. What did he want? He closed his mouth and his eyes, turning his head away. Max gave a soft whine, obviously taking the action as a rejection, but Brady just wanted a second to think. There was nowhere to think in this place, this fucking town. He opened his eyes, breathing deeply, and turned back. Max stared at him hopefully.

“Brady?" He asked softly. The wolf extended his free paw, laying it over Max's. He squeezed the cheetah in his grip, then leaned forward and met him with a kiss. Max made a noise of surprise, dropping his coffee onto the concrete. And then he was kissing Brady back, not the frenzied, hyper-sexual way he had last time, but gently, tenderly. He reached up and put a hand behind the wolf's head, feeling the burning hot fur there on the back of his neck. Brady could feel the cheetah's inexperience on his lips, the young male unsure exactly what he should be doing with his tongue. When they broke apart, they were both blushing like school girls. Max looked sheepishly down at his spilled drink, bending to pick up the now-empty cardboard cup, coffee staining the footpath.

“Well done." The wolf added with a stupid grin, chuckling as the cheetah picked up the mess.

“Y-you just surprised me is all!" Max replied, glaring playfully at Brady as he regained his posture. “I didn't expect…that." He stammered, his face growing even redder. Brady leaned forward and took Max's paw in his.

“Since we last spoke, I've been thinking a lot about us. I dunno. It just seems right." He said bashfully, his eyes darting away.

“Well I'm glad." Max replied softly.

“Can we get out of here? Just get a milkshake or something nearby? I'm sick of this heat." Brady said, his tone changing into his usual sweet and friendly one. Max smiled at the now-familiar grinning face in front of him. He agreed, and the two furs walked side by side to the nearest cafe, which thankfully was not the one Brady's mother worked in. They didn't say anything as they walked, paws in their pockets, just enjoying the comfortable silence. The occasional car could be heard driving through the town, but apart from that they might have been alone. Nothing's quieter than a country town at eleven in the morning. They found a booth in the corner of the café, ordered two milkshakes in their favourite flavours and got to talking.

“Before we go any further, I want to put something out there." Brady began, inhaling as if building up to some large revelation. “Now I know, this is selfish, but it has to be this way I think. I don't want to come back to this town very often. I'll be here as little as I have to be. Max I hate this place. Is that...gonna be a deal breaker for you?" He paused, playing out the next words in his head before saying them. “I…understand if it is. It's kind of unreasonable."

“Uh, it's dramatic. And I admit don't really like ultimatums too much." He began, looking away with a frown. When he turned back his face was much calmer, and he gave a shrug. “But I don't like it here much either. Especially in the last few weeks." Brady nodded, fully in agreement.

“Uh…a lot's happened. That's for sure." He said. Right at that moment, the possum who had taken their order appeared, setting down a strawberry milkshake for Brady and a blue heaven flavoured one for Max. They thanked her, before each taking a careful sip of the sweet, flavoured milk.

     “So what is happening with Oliver?" Max asked cautiously, after he had sat back a little. Brady hesitated, and then remembered he was now talking to his boyfriend.

     “I don't know." He said truthfully. “I don't really know what to do about Oliver anymore. I haven't talked to him since you and I last spoke. I know that he and Marley broke up, but no idea how he's taking it." Max nodded.

     “I don't want to get in the way of your friendship to Oliver, if that's the problem? In my mind he and I are…well, I'll behave." Max said, choosing his language carefully. Brady gave a slight laugh.

     “No, it actually doesn't have anything to do with you. I just feel, I don't know, like I barely know him. I keep wondering if he died tomorrow or something like that, would I even care? We're supposed to be best friends but I can't even think of something I know about him, I have no idea what his favourite colour is, or his taste in music. We've been friends for years; you'd think that'd count for something." He let it all out with a dramatic whoosh, coming close to blurting territory. He hadn't had anyone to talk to about his problems with Oliver and it was a relief to finally unload. Sure, he'd been in contact over Facebook with his friends in the city, but they didn't understand like someone here would, so Brady hadn't mentioned it. He pulled himself back to the present, eyeing up the cheetah as he contemplated an answer. Max was silent for a good minute, his brow furrowed in thought, before replying.

     “I don't know what to tell you." He said, throwing his paws up. “You know what I think about him. Oliver isn't the kind of fur that lets people in easily, I'm guessing. If he lived in the city he'd be the kinda dude to have eight or nine girlfriends by the time he hit nineteen. He's not a person that establishes, uh, deep connections, I think. But that's just what I've heard, y'know?" Max explained, to which Brady nodded.

     “It's like he's a totally different person to the fur I knew in High School."

     “People change." Max said, finishing off the last of his drink. Brady just nodded.

     “Hmm. That much, that quickly?" He said softly.

     “Look dude." The cheetah said plainly. “I'm done trying to tell you what to do. You make whatever choice you think is best here, and I'll back you up, okay? But I can't decide for you." He said, reaching a paw out and grasping Brady's wrist. The wolf hesitated for a second, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his mobile. The cheetah retraced his paw and watched quietly, a small smile on his lips.

     Hey Oliver. Brady began the message, typing slowly as he thought out exactly what he wanted to say. He decided that keeping it simple would be best, they'd work it out in-person. I heard that you a Marley broke up…that sucks. You doing okay? Let's catch up before I leave yeah? He inhaled, wondering why he felt so nervous, before hitting 'send'. He gave Max a look, raising his eyebrows comically.

     “We'll see what happens I guess." He said, the phone buzzing before he even put it down. Lifting it up to his face, Brady read the reply.

     Sounds good. Paul's having a party on Friday, why don't you rock up there? 8pm, feel free to bring your boyfriend or whatever. Brady frowned at the phone's screen, puzzled by how casually the message was written. He wondered if Oliver was sick of him too.

     “He wants us to hang out, Friday at Paul's place." Brady said, looking up at his new-boyfriend. “The way he wrote it is weird though." He added. Max nodded.

     “Hmm. You gonna go?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. Brady stopped himself, and then nodded slightly.

     “Yeah, I think I gotta. It's only fair after all. Besides, it feels like everyone else has just abandoned him. I don't really wanna do that to him too without a good reason." Brady replied, the sinking sensation of guilt digging a hole in his stomach. Max sighed. Brady went quiet, glancing away and trying to think of an answer to his problem. None immediately came. “I'll…work it out. We'll see what happens Friday." He said eventually.

     “You want me to come with you?" His boyfriend asked. Brady thought to the message, Oliver had said he was welcome. The dog of course didn't know they were a couple, he was just being 'funny'. The wolf shook his head.

     “No, that's okay. I got it." He said, thinking that if things got unpleasant, Max's presence would only exacerbate the situation. The cheetah gave him a sad smile, knowing it was a no-win situation no matter what.

“Did your mum ever use that line on you; if all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it too?" Max asked, after a second of silence. Brady nodded.

     “Of course. Perfect answer whenever I wanted something just 'cause everyone at school had it." He said, wondering what point the cheetah was trying to make here.

     “Yeah mine did too. But I was thinking, here's the thing, if all your friends jump off a bridge, what's more likely? That your friends all simultaneously went insane and jumped? Or that they saw the bridge was on fire?"