"Hey, Matt? I can't tell which one of these shirts is the black one," Emmett Clark shouted frustratedly across the apartment while trying to feel the difference in the fabrics over and over again. He heard Matt's footsteps start down the hall.
"Whoa, man, put some jeans on. You know you're not my type," Matt joked, walking through the doorway seeing Emmett stand in his underwear near his closet.
"Yes, and wouldn't Suzanne be glad to hear it," Emmett poked back.
Matt and Emmett had shared an apartment ever since they were dorm mates their first three years of college. They had become close friends, and Emmett was grateful for it. Matt assisted him whenever he could, whether it was walking somewhere new, crossing a street, or picking out clothes. In short, Matt was Emmett's vision.
"Here you go, Matt said, taking the shirt out of the closet and handing it to Emmett.
"Thanks," Emmett responded as Matt left the room.
Emmett wondered yet again where he would live, and with whom, once Matt and Suzanne were married. He had been looking for months, but none of the places or people seemed right. In two weeks, though, it was happening whether he was ready or not.
For the second time that day, Emmett cursed his blindness. He wanted so badly to just be able to live by himself after Matt moved out. He knew, though, that it really wasn't realistic, and since he had no family to speak of, he didn't have a place to fall back on. He was relying on his friends at this point, as he had been incapable of finding somewhere outside of an assisted living facility, which was a nice environment. The problem was that Emmett thought his age of 29 was fifty years too young to be living there.
After dressing, Emmett walked into the kitchen.
"You ready?" he heard Matt ask.
"Yup," Emmett responded, putting his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his cane, placing it in the bag. Matt drove him to the university and helped him to the main doors of the musical arts building.
"Thanks," Emmett said, walking through the doors. He got his cane out and started down the hall, counting his footsteps. A familiar voice interrupted the silence that echoed through the halls.
"Dr. Clark, may I help you to your studio?"
"Thank you, Clara, that would be greatly appreciated," Emmett agreed, folding his cane and putting it back in his bag.
Once in the office, Emmett sat his bag down and leaned against his desk as he heard Clara, one of his students, sit at one of the pianos.
"Thank you again, Clara. Now, shall we get started?"
--
"Listen, would you just meet him? In person? Emmett's a great guy, and even though he can afford the rent on his own, it's just . . . easier for him to have someone around." Cassidy Andrews looked into the skeptically smiling eyes in front of her, pausing only for a moment. "Besides, you need some company. You live alone on the other side of town, all you do is work, and you could use someone to bond with. The apartment is really big, and Emmett has been my best friend for almost a decade, although that fact alone might scare you away. Seriously, though, it would be great."
"Cassidy, I don't know?" an inquisitive Gavin Adams started.
"Just take the time to meet him, in person. You've got two weeks to make up your mind before his current roommate gets married and leaves."
"Two weeks?!"
"Just meet him," Cassidy demanded.
"Alright, alright, I'll meet him. When?" Gavin asked.
"Are you free tonight?"
--
"I'll see you Monday, Will," Emmett said, closing the door behind his last student of the day. All seven of them had asked the same question that day: when would Emmett perform a solo faculty recital?
"It has been a while," he said to no one in particular. His thoughts were interrupted by his ringing cell phone.
"This is Emmett," he answered, flipping the phone open.
"Hey, Em!" Cassidy greeted excitedly through the speaker.
"Hey Cass. How are you today?"
"Great." She paused. "I'll get right to the point. Do you have any plans tonight?"
"Nope. Why?"
"What? How a guy like you has any night of the week open is beyond me. Well, anyways, great. There's someone I want you to meet," Cassidy informed Emmett.
"Cass, you know me. I don't?"
"Relax," she interrupted. "I'm not trying to set you up. He might be willing to share your acre of apartment with you," she teased.
"Okay, what time?"
"Meet me at the main doors of the music building in two minutes."
Emmett chuckled at his friend's eccentricity as he hung up the phone, picked up his bag, and locked his door.
Cassidy greeted him the moment he opened the door to exit the building.
"Where are we going? And does this stranger that I'm meeting have a name?" Emmett asked as he took her arm.
"Do you remember that chef I've told you about? Gavin Adams? He's a really good friend of mine. It's actually hard to believe that you haven't met yet," she commented as they got in the car. "We're going to Kelly's coffee shop. She won't be home for a few more days, though, so it will just be him and us."
"Mmhmm. Gavin. Got it. So, how do I know that Gavin isn't an ax murderer or some creeper?"
"Well, he might be, because I've told him almost everything there is to know about you and he's still willing to meet you," Cassidy jested. Emmett laughed.
"Wow. That's promising." A comfortable silence passed for a few minutes.
"He doesn't know you're blind yet," Cassidy blurted out quietly and spontaneously. Emmett turned to face her as much as his seatbelt would allow, aghast.
"I can't go, then, Cassidy! You failed to mention the most important thing about me!"
"It's not like he's not open-minded."
"Cassidy Andrews, living with a non-handicapped gay man is probably bad enough for someone like him. Living with a blind one is completely different and even worse," Emmett practically shouted.
"Hey, Em?" Cassidy asked quietly.
"What?" Emmett asked, trying to be angry.
"I've never, in the ten years that I've known you, heard you raise your voice like that."
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"Don't apologize," Cassidy said. "It's great."
They pulled up to the café, parked, and walked in the door, smiles on their faces.
--
Gavin was reading the restaurant reviews in the newspaper when Cassidy walked in with Emmett holding her shoulder with one hand and arm with the other. Gavin knew it was rude, but he stared at the sight. He didn't know how to respond. He'd had absolutely no idea that Emmett was blind, but the part that struck him the most was that Emmett was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. He stood maybe an inch shy of six feet tall, had rather pale skin, dark brown hair cut somewhat short and pushed back stylishly with some falling over his face, and a body with a muscular swimmer's build to die for. Emmett's most stunning feature, however, were his eyes. They were so dark brown they were almost black, and were deeply expressive. Gavin gaped open-mouthed as they approached the table.
"Hey, Gavin, this is the famous Emmett Clark," Cassidy informed him.
"She flatters me; don't listen to her," Emmett responded to Cassidy's remark. Gavin blinked a few times and tried to speak, but stuttered instead.
"Uh . . . um . . . hello," he finally managed, grabbing the hand outstretched in front of him and shaking it. Emmett noticed a firm handshake, even if Gavin wasn't the most eloquent person at the moment.
"Em, what do you want to drink?" Cassidy asked as Emmett took his seat.
"The usual, please."
"Gav, come with me to the bar," Cassidy ordered, grabbing his arm as she walked by his chair.
Once they were at the counter and had ordered their drinks, Gavin found his voice before Cassidy.
"You failed to mention two very important things, Cassidy Andrews."
"Two?"
"Yes, two. Number one: he's blind. More importantly, number two: he's extremely good-looking. I haven't seen someone I've been this attracted to in a long time."
"You checked the mirror lately, sugah?" Cassidy asked jokingly in a mock Southern accent.
"Enough with the sarcastic shit, Cass. Seriously, I don't know if I could live with him. I don't know what to do, or how I would help him, and being around a man that attractive would be a little difficult. I mean, those eyes . . ." Gavin trailed off.
"Yeah, they are blacker than black and show every emotion he feels. If you ever want to know what he's thinking when he's not speaking, that's the place to look."
"But¬?"
"Yeah, I know. They don't look like a typical blind person's eyes. Medically speaking, his eyes can see. See, Gavin, Emmett wasn't born blind. When he was 14, he and his parents were in a car accident. Both of his parents died on impact, because they weren't wearing seatbelts. Anyways, both of them died and Emmett was left blind. According to every doctor he's seen, there's nothing wrong with him. His brain just doesn't interpret what he sees, and no one knows why. He's a medical mystery."
"Wow. Both parents and his sight. That would send me over the edge," Gavin breathed.
"He's a strong one," Cassidy said, picking up two coffees and walking back to the table. Gavin grabbed his cup and followed. As he sat down, Emmett faced him.
"So, I presume she told you the whole story about how I lost my vision and how no one can figure out why," he stated matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Yes, I told him. But he's still here, obviously," Cassidy butted in.
"So, um, I've heard that you're a phenomenal pianist," Gavin said, attempting to make conversation.
"Again, Cassidy flatters me," Emmett argued. "I'm okay. I really enjoy teaching some very, very talented students, though."
