Who Do You See?
It was mid May and there was still absolute silence between Dean and Jamie.
Six Weeks - Post War
Dean had continued to meet with Adam. Dinners, casual drinks after work and a couple of well timed overnight stays at Adam’s to allow them their ‘perfect’ weekend of kicking back, with a beer and catching sports. As they agreed. The reality of those moments was that they did little watching of actual sports, quickly distracting themselves with close contact sports of their own.
Dean approached his physical intimacy with Adam in a new way. His new freedom spurred his appetite to dominate. Adam succumbed and greedily gave into Dean’s needs. It was always hard, fast, hot, a means to an end. Dean would roar. Adam would groan. Not quite believing he had the ‘most handsome man in London’ throwing him around his apartment, his car and everywhere else in between.
On those nights where Adam wasn’t about, Dean’s mind wondered to the diversity in Jamie’s and his physical relationship. There was an exquisite unpredictability about Jamie. Adam was physical, straight forward. You knew what you were getting each time. It didn’t bother Dean that his feelings weren’t growing. An affair almost but without actually breaking any rules.
He found himself swaying between guilt and absolute satisfaction. His life post-war had become quiet again. But there was still excitement in his moments with Adam. Adam was sophisticated, polished. Jamie was wild, messy. Dean refused to compare. But six weeks later, if he were to be asked, he’d say he was happy.
London isn’t that big. So much so, you could argue that it’s not big enough to hold all the people it does. It’s inevitable that you will bump into someone you want to or don’t want to. Or you’ll bump into the best friend of your ex boyfriend who is now in a relationship with your team mate.
Dean strolled through Selfridges on Oxford Street, on that Saturday in mid May. He clocked Gabby’s signature bob, peering delicately over makeup. He stopped. The sight of seeing someone so close to Jamie still made him have to think about where his feet were going.
He contemplated when they must have last met and spoke. If he went close enough to her would he still be able to smell him on her? Perhaps a stray hair from that crown of blonde was resting on her shoulder, following one of Jamie’s surprise embraces. He’d never in the last six weeks stopped loving Jamie. It seemed an utterly ridiculous notion to even think otherwise was possible.
They hadn’t ended because someone had done wrong, and Adam was not planned. Dean thought quietly from time to time: was Adam an interlude? An intermission? A welcome distraction? Regardless, him and Jamie had shared too much for the love to just stop.
Gabby could sense eyes on her so she looked up. Their faces met.
“Shit.”
“Gabby?”
“Oh hi Dean. How are you?” Gabby acted the best she could to not unleash her frustrations she’d built up over him. She’d dissected his behaviour with Jamie over phone calls, coffee, wine - in stilted conversations as Richard hovered in preceding weeks, as best friends with wounded best friends do.
Richard was a gentleman. He grew on Jamie recently with the line: “Hey, mate. Don’t mind me. Men are bastards. This is a safe zone. Rip him to shreds. I won’t run back to him. I’ve known him for years and you for nearly three. Any consolation, he’s mad. You’re a great guy.”
Jamie swooned. To which Gabby playfully interrupted. “Hands off. You have your own rugby boy.”
Jamie flatly reminded her. “Had.”
“I’m sorry. That was so insensitive of me.”
“Gabby. I have to laugh at some point don’t I? I’ll go insane otherwise.”
Back to Selfridges.
“Yeah good. Everything ok with you and Richard?” Dean shuffled from one foot to the other. He lost these friends in the war too. He was being genuine, he wasn’t just filling the air around them. He missed her.
“We’re fine. Dean, I don’t want to be rude but I probably shouldn’t be speaking to you. For what it’s worth, I hope you’re ok.”
“I’m something like happy. I mean I have met someone.” Dean threw the grenade out into Jamie’s orbit through Gabby. He knew the intel wouldn’t just sit with her, she’d tell him. He didn’t really know why he said it. Something told him it was best. He had this need to be honest with Jamie. He didn’t want him hurt anymore than he already was.
“Yes we know. Dean, London is tiny. You know that. Lars saw you with him. Obviously it’s got back to him. I will say, you work fast. Christ, Dean it’s only been six weeks.” Gabby was looking at him, finally raising her eyes. Cheeks flushed and her hand wrapped tightly around her handbag. Dean wanted to hug her. She was a friend and she was hurting too. He caused it. She’d been there for him in the past. So sweetly.
“It wasn’t planned. It kind of just happened. I still feel so much for him. I love him completely. Of course I do. I just don’t know what us looks like right now.”
“So let me get this straight. Excuse the irony. You mean to tell me that this guy you’re with is some kind of understudy while you figure out what you want? Dean, my best friend is heartbroken. He’s really not well. He’s thrown himself into work. He’s got some big event coming up. He’s pulling huge hours and zipping all over the city to get it organised. Dean.” She welled up and looked away. He went to her and pulled her in for a hug. “Dean it makes me sick you two aren’t together. I know he can be a handful. More than a handful. But he’s a wonderful person. And I know I can’t expect you to stay with him just to make him feel better but fuck. I’m heartbroken too. Thank you for the hug. I miss Dean hugs. You do it properly.” She smacked his chest playfully and they broke through to an old friend smile. It was lovely and incredibly sad. All at once.
“I do give good hugs. Gabby all I can say right now is there was a lot going on between us we didn’t talk to anyone else about. We have to figure this out alone. But I love you guys. I miss you. Please take care of yourself and I know we won’t be in touch like before but maybe I’ll see you around?”
Gabby blew her nose. Tears were smearing her face. “I can’t commit. I can’t. Dean, please just think on this. When you’re alone, just think, do you miss him? Do you want to go to tell him something then stop? Are you happy with the quiet constantly? Or would you have his wonderful mess back now you’ve had some time to think? You’ve scared him Dean. Our boy is broken.” She huffed. “Ok. I’ve got to go. I love you. Bye.”
Dean was left suspended in Gabby’s questions. If he’d answered?
Of course I fucking do.
Ali’s Apartment, later that day.
“Hey look at you. What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been crying? Richard been a bastard?” Jamie’s sarcasm was starting to defrost again. God help everyone. She bit her lip and came in.
“No, no, that particular rugby player is behaving.”
Jamie tensed as he brought her a coffee and froze mid walk. “I see where this is going.” He sat and handed her a cup. “Gabby, I can’t handle anything else.” Jamie slumped into the sofa. He felt like he was continuously fighting Dean despite not even being in the same room as him in six weeks. He was tired of it all.
“Ok, I was in Selfridges earlier, just having a look around and I bumped into Dean. I’ll cut to the chase. I can’t look at you while I say this so give me your hand.” He slapped his into hers. “He still loves you. That was never or is ever in question. The uh, guy he’s seeing. It’s not planned it was and is still a complete coincidence.” She huffed. Jamie hugged her.
“Thank you for telling me. Well back at him, minus the new man part. It’s weird I’m at a place here I hope he’s happy. Gabby I haven’t been truthful about everything going on.” Jamie straightened. He couldn’t have friends caught in crossfire knowing he had a part to play in this. He’d taken the past few weeks to unravel his role in how they got here.
“What do you mean?”
“Me getting high. He told me from day one it wasn’t an issue. It still isn’t for him really he says. But when we were at the summer house, that’s what broke his ability to keep up with me. I scared him away. I scared the man I love away. I have to own that. That’s on me.” Saying the words out loud felt painful and a relief, a confession of sorts. Like a procedure: one pain giving way to another.
“Jamie I’m sure it’s not all on you. He’s got his reasons. Whether you or us, your friends, will understand them is another question. I will say, if I’m honest. If this ever gets back on track again, consider how much you really need that stuff. He went along with accepting it is a part of you but when you’re admitting it was a part that possibly tipped him over the edge, is that rubbish really worth it? I mean I can’t judge, Jesus we have some stories but I shut the door on that years ago.”
“I know you’re right. I wanted that weekend to be special and it ended up ruining everything. I miss him beyond words but I have to leave this up to fate now.” He rested his head back on the sofa and sighed, then bolted up right. “Oh my god, let’s go out, end of the month. There’s this fundraiser night. Devils and Angels at The Eagle in Vauxhall. I love how inronic my life is. Please come?” He giggled desperately. He needed something to look forward to.
“Oh god. I hate stuff like this but anything to put a smile back on that face. Reluctantly I’m in. Can we get ready here? Like old times? When we visited Ali from uni? Cheap wine and bad pop music?”
“Of course. I have an idea for an insane outfit. If he’s out and sees me, he’ll fucking die. Well I hope not literally but maybe a little heart attack.”
They held their foreheads together and giggled. It felt good to laugh a little. Jamie’s head was exhausted, any quiet, all he could think of was Dean with someone else. His toes cramped from curling them constantly at the grotesque idea.
Seven Weeks - Post War
Lars was with colleagues at a bar in Westminster after work that Friday. He was waiting to be served when a familiar but unsettling voice asked, “Hey Lars, how are you?”
Dean.
Lars’ heart sank. He turned. “Hi.”
“Is that it? Aren’t you going to answer or reciprocate? Have I been scrubbed from your life? I want to know you’re ok. I haven’t spoken to you in almost two months. I miss you.” Dean went to hug him and Lars moved away.
“Dean. You can’t possibly expect you and me to carry on as if nothing has happened.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I need time. It’s complicated.”
“How the fuck are you taking time? I saw you with that man. You’re not fooling anyone. Jamie hasn’t even thought about another man and here you are, swinging your dick at rich businessmen. What the fuck Dean?”
“Hey. Keep your voice down. I’m not doing anything wrong. It wasn’t planned. It happened. And yes Lars, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll go tell him that. Seems that whenever I open my mouth or set foot outside my door, anything I fucking do gets back to him. Lars we haven’t spoken in nearly two months. I need space and time, how I spend that is my business.”
“You’re right. Can’t argue with that. What is my business is supporting my best friend through something that is making him physically ill. You and him aside, I’ve lost a brother in all this. Dean I loved having you in my life. You made me feel empowered, like I can take on anything. That’s gone. You and him died this summer. So did me and you. I really hope you’re happy. Jamie has his faults, Christ we all do, I just hope when you’re waking up with that man every day, you’re smiling. That your current happiness was worth all this destruction. He knows he needs to work on himself. Isn’t that enough?”
“Lars I…”
“Don’t say any more. Dean it’s pointless. I’m sick with worry over my friend. He’s my everything. He’s too delicate for this. I know I can’t demand you go back to him just to make us and him happy. I know that. It’s just really, really fucking sad.”
“You’re right. I can’t.”
“Well there really is nothing else to say is there? I have to carry two broken hearts right now. Mine and his. God Dean he thought the world of you, if you just saw it. Saw passed everything else. He loves you more than you will ever know. Is quiet and easy really what life is about for you? You two were fanatastic together. Your connection rubbed off on all of us. That magic you talked about with him, he still smiles at how he felt about you. Still feels about you. Dean it’s so precious and rare. I have to go.” Lars ran out of the bar. Abandoning his friends.
That was the second time his ex’s friends had left him speechless and alone. Thinking.
Eight Weeks - Post War
Jamie gave leaving the apartment another try after his altercation with Harry. When he thought about it, he knew what they both said was awful and from a place of anger. He took comfort in knowing he didn’t mean what he said. He hoped Harry felt the same. It was tragic. A colourful and diverse group of friends completely blown apart by him and Dean.
“Holly shit. You look incredible!” Gabby gasped as Jamie came out of his temporary, fast becoming semi-permanent bedroom in Ali’s. “Seriously, you look like you should be on a runway or something. If he does see you, well good luck to him.” Gabby looked on proudly at her beautiful best friend.
“That’s the plan. I’m taking any prisoners tonight. Fuck him.” Jamie twirled. He was using tonight to show himself he could move on too. Jamie spent a small bundle on his Angel costume. If small silver shorts and white trainers could be considered a costume. The event was to raise funds for a local homeless LGBT charity at The Eagle in Vauxhall. Turning his misery into someone else’s hope. The fact it was for a good cause made Gabby feel better about being subjected to fancy dress. Just a little.
Jamie stalked around the living room in his silver shorts that hugged every part of him. His top half, bare. It was as much practical as it was provocative. London was balmy enough in the early weeks of summer. He wore wings, of course. With huge plumes that trailed to the floor, strapped around his shoulders. His blonde waves more pronounced than usual. Everything was theatre tonight. And a crown, why not, everyone told him he was a prince anyway. He’d smeared himself in silver body glitter, when the light caught him, his skin shone like a Michelangelo marble statue. He smudged eyeliner across his eyes- disguising the burn left by weeks of tears.
He brought to life the fallen angel his friends had come to think of him as these days.
“Jamie, you’re going to make him drop dead. You do look gorgeous.”
“I don’t want him to die. I want him back Gabby. I miss him. Everything about him. I have to wait. He’s a stubborn bull who needs his time. I hope he comes back when he’s ready. God I should know. I’ve pissed him off enough over the years.” He huffed. He wouldn’t cry tonight.
“Jamie? Talk to me about those times. Keep it alive. Let’s laugh a little at those times. Tell me.” She grabbed his hands. She wanted to keep Jamie from falling into another misery hole.
He smiled at the invite to share. “Well, he’s so tidy. When I moved in I was so terrified of causing a mess. I remember one time I left my bag collection splayed out on the floor in the bedroom one day. Just looking at it. My head, I got distracted and forgot all about it. I loved his losing his temper. It only lasted minutes and it’s so adorable. He couldn’t be mad at me for long. I was in the living room and all I heard was, “am I the only bloke in this town who nearly breaks his fucking neck tripping over a Louis Vuitton bag? Fuck’s sake Jaim. Put this shit away.”
Gabby laughed.
“The worst bit? My reaction?”
“What?” She was doubled over.
“Fuck, which one did you skid on?! Not are you ok? Did you actually break your neck?” He wailed with laughter, it felt good. “God I’ve been a fucking dick in the past. Wow. Gabby I love him.”
“Well, shall we have some patience and some faith?” She squeezed his hand.
“Amazing song choice. Let’s get George on immediately!” He jumped up to dance. Gabby smiled, a little bit of him was healing.
Across town.
“Don’t you look something. Christ Dean.” Adam grabbed his waist marvelling at his bare chest, as Dean put the finishing touches to his outfit. Jamie had trained him well in fancy dress over the years. How to look good rather than ridiculous. Jamie’s friends made him feel evil, so Dean thought it accurate to choose a Devil. Black shorts. Black wings, subtle horns poking through his waves of ebony hair. He’d even applied eyeliner. He’d have never done that before Trouble came along. Some of that romanticism remained. To disguise the only part of Dean left, he slipped in red contact lenses. Dean was dead. The Devil would dance that night.
“Thanks. You look great too.” Adam donned a black tank and black shorts. Simple. Dean remembered how these nights were frenzied fun with Jamie. He missed it. His night was quiet music that barely registered in his ears and an expensive cocktail Adam created them. It was safe. It was calm. It was nice? Was he settling for nice?
The Eagle
Jamie and Gabby burst through the doors of the bar. The crowd turned. Jamie had been a party boy for years, despite the enemies he’d made along the way, no one could deny he was a head turner, sweet but completely bewitching. Everyone knew him, loved him, or resented how they’d treated him in the past. He forgave everyone. He was too good for them all.
They walked through the crowd kissing and hugging acquaintances as they moved to the bar.
Collecting drinks they turned and made their way to the dance floor.
“Who the fuck is that?” Adam tapped Dean’s arm. Dean had already found Jamie. The blonde hair. He’d spent eight weeks jumping every time he saw blonde hair. They hadn’t seen each other in two months. Dean’s mouth watered. He looked incredible.
Without breaking his stare, trained on Jamie’s back. “Uh, that’s him. The cause of your wounded soldier.”
“Fuck Dean. Are you ok? Sorry to say but wow.” Adam’s friends all huddled behind him gasping too.
Jamie turned and their eyes met. They moved toward each other. The room stood still, Dean tuned everyone out, Jamie did the same. Nothing else mattered when it was them. Some things never change.
“Well aren’t you a sight for tear sore eyes?” Jamie smiled. It felt some kind of good to just be civil.
“Jamie. You look amazing. Have you grown? I know that sounds ridiculous but you seem taller.” Dean felt like he was looking up at him for the first time ever.
“Maybe I have in some ways. Anyway, good to see you Dean. Have a lovely evening.” Jamie turned and walked away.
He kept his composure until he fell into Gabby by the bar. “Get me shots. Fuck I held it together just enough. I was shaking inside. My god, he looks so good, Gabby.”
“Ok, have these. Then we dance.”
They danced. Crazy, out of control. It was needed. They managed to squeeze onto a podium. He found Dean’s eyes again. Adam at his waist. Jamie didn’t care at the sight of another man’s hands being where his had resided for years before. He knew. Dean didn’t look at anyone the way he looked at Jamie. Even now. That was what still mattered. It’s his eyes. If anyone asks, that’s what I fell in love with first.
So Jamie danced even more. Pulling himself into shapes and poses that resold his body to Dean. I still love you. I miss you. Push your face all over me. They didn’t break eye contact for minutes that seemed like hours.
He lost himself in the thought. The heat, the music, Dean’s eyes, he wrong footed himself and slipped to the floor.
“Don’t cause a scene. Let me take a look at you in the men’s room.” Dean’s grip on his elbow. Mouth by his ear. Jamie couldn’t cause a scene because he didn’t want to. He’d take this chance with Dean just being near him. Despite the ongoing war, Dean would as he had said before, flatten this city if Jamie ever cried for help. That still stood the test of time.
“Ok.” Jamie felt wobbly.
The bathroom was quiet. Dean grabbed Jamie by the waist and lifted him to the counter top. He ran a hand up each thigh and pushed them apart grinning. Jamie didn’t protest. He wanted Dean on him. To crush him. To fuck him. Right there.
“You look like your eyes are bleeding.” Jamie ran a finger under Dean’s eye, breathing heavy. “Fuck that stings.”
Dean grabbed his hand. Grazed from his fall.
“I’ll make you better. Only I know how.” Dean kissed the graze. Jamie winced but let Dean do his work. Those lips. Kiss me Dean. “There.”
“That’s helping.” Jamie ran his fixed hand over Dean’s chest. Exposed, powerful, once his. Dean shuddered and moved in closer.
“Stop it Jamie.” Dean whispered with a growl in his ear.
“You’re not stopping me.”
“I know. I don’t want you to stop. But you have to. Jamie you look incredible. In another time you wouldn’t be able to control me. I’m trying my best right now.” He huffed into Jamie’s hair.
“Do you miss it? Maybe if you don’t miss me anymore, you miss it? No one can give you what I did.” He reached and grabbed Dean’s mound.
“Jamie. Stop.” Dean snapped his head back and bit his lip. Don’t stop.
“You’re not pushing me away. You’re getting bigger. You do miss it. I can tell. Dean I know you. You have a huge appetite. Is he satisfying you? Huh?” Jamie grabbed his legs around Dean’s. Pulling him in closer.
There they were. A devil and an angel fighting an urge.
“Stop.” Dean pressed his body against Jamie again, grabbing Jamie’s throat. “You’re pushing me again.” His grip tightened. Jamie’s wings fluttered in reflex, like they were part of him.
“You’ll have to make me. That won’t help. You know I love your hands around my neck. You know how to set me on fire.” Jamie smirked. “We’re not done. You and me. Admit it, you’d fuck me right here if you had the time. I’m ready for you. Always. Feel me. Put your hands on me. You used to say it. Your favourite place. Your lips, tongue and nose gliding against me. Fuck.” Jamie grabbed Dean’s hand and pushed it under his shorts. “Right here. That’s where you belong. That’s what you miss. If I feel your hand move even slightly. I know you still want me.”
Dean stared at him. His hand twitched. Pressing the softness of Jamie’s opening.
“I knew it.” Jamie grinned.
Dean huffed. Turned, punched the wall and left.
Jamie smirked, the torture was what he needed to see in him. He’s still mine. I know it. I need him in pain. For now. He wanted this. He needs to wallow. He dropped to the floor and looked in the mirror. Dean knew Jamie had taken some power back in that moment. He knew the punch meant Dean, deep down, was happy to surrender to him. He hoped it would last.
He walked out of the men’s room and saw Dean with Adam. He didn’t care. He whispered to him. “I’ll love you forever Big Boy. Remember, I’m your only match. I’m under your skin.” Jamie delivered the line with a chilling confidence. Inside he was bursting with screams. He wanted Big Boy back. He was entering into acceptance it may now not happen. But with Dean, he always hoped. He slinked away. His wings out wide. Full Frontal’s You Think You’re A Man filled the room. The lyrics hit Dean like a bus. Like Jamie had planned it. Magic.
Take one final look at you left behind.
Dean returned to Adam. His face flat. Jamie had cast his spell again. That’s what he missed. Jamie’s ability to make him forget his hang ups, forget his angst. Be sexual. Be in love. Stop thinking about everything else and dive in headfirst. Chaos seemed to be calling again.
“Call it a night?” Adam said defeatedly.
Dean just nodded.
Nine Weeks - Post War
Jamie had a plan. Write. That’s how he escaped. Made sense of everything. Through words. These were going to be the most important he would write so far, to win Dean back.
They hadn’t spoken since their moment as Devil and Angel. There was still a respect between them. No contact. Just left to feel, to hurt, to search, to miss. Jamie’s event was set to take place at the end of the month. Friday, June 28th. Almost three months to the weekend since their undoing.
This had to be done in letter. Not text or email. Danny’s poem was still stowed away. Jamie reasoned that if love could be professed so desperately back then, when there was no option but to be covert in tales of love, he had to give Dean the words he couldn’t say. He felt he owed it to him, Dean, Danny, Earl, every boy in love who was terrified of telling another boy how they felt. All those untold love stories. He wasn’t done with theirs.
Jamie waited in Canada Square for his moment. Huddled on a bench. He’d successfully avoided Dean in Canary Wharf all these weeks. Their offices, look out posts until now.
Dean was walking toward him. He gulped and stood up. Seizing his moment. Walking straight for him. Dean’s head was down. Jamie deliberately collided with him.
“Oh sorry.” He was lying.
“Hey. I haven’t seen you around here for weeks. How are you?”
“You’re still real then?” Jamie straightened and looked him over. Savouring him. “I got thinking, would I wake up from all this one day? Is it better to wake up from a nightmare, so you never have to face it again? Or, is it more tragic, if it were all a dream, and to know you’ll never experience it again?” Jamie sighed and looked at his shoes. “Dean, I love you. It took so much to sit out and wait for you. I don’t know if I’m wishing for something that will never happen again. But, please read this. I don’t know if we’ll cross paths again once you do. But please take time to read it. Please don’t throw it away. I have to go.” He pushed the letter into Dean’s hand.
Dean was stunned and looked on at him as he walked away. He looked smaller again.
Dean got back to his desk and opened the letter.
Big Boy,
It’s true you broke my heart at the start of summer. You ripped it out.
I’ve taken the time we’ve been apart to understand, I know you will have wanted me to, as you have always done for me.
Truth is, I do.
You never judged, you always wrapped your arms around my world and let me exist.
I got too comfortable in excess and that was not fair. Those excesses were scar tissue from someone I used to be. Had to be.
I don’t need them anymore. If closing the door on that part of me will assure you that you are enough, more than enough for me, it’s gone.
My event is coming up at the end of the month. Remember we shared our calendars because it was so brilliant and you were worried I would forget?
You allowed me to be all of me, but in some way I think I took you for granted. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. Please know that.
Why be with someone who encourages and celebrates you if you’re going to throw it away for a high that lasts minutes? I want a life that last years with you. To the end of our time on this little planet we call home. That’s the high I need.
This is by no way an ultimatum. More an absolute end of a chapter or book. That, you have to decide. I think we have more to write together, my heart tells me so, I hope you feel the same.
If you don’t come to the event, I’ll know that my time with you is over.
I’ll understand what happened eventually but I’ll carry you in my heart forever. You taught me to love myself. You. Out of billions of people on earth, you gave that gift to me. Thank you. I’m ready to be me.
Before you close this letter and make your decision, think about this for me. A last request:
If you were on a terrace in Paris right now, as you read my words, who do you see stood there with you?
I’ll love you forever and carry our magic with me until my last breath.
Trouble.
“You.” Dean whispered.
He closed the letter. He smiled. He opened his phone and ran his thumb over the reminder for the event.
JAMIE BRAND ACTIVATION EVENT - SOMERSET HOUSE 7PM
where a black shirt please ;)
He felt warm at the closeness of Jamie to him. The written words he’d given him. But he was still unsure if his love for Jamie was enough. Was he done doubting himself? He’d have to think. Hard. Feel. Hard.
Jamie was an unpredictable ball of chaos, Dean was practical, straight lines. No fuzziness. It was true he was enjoying the straightforwardness of Adam but something in him missed Trouble still.
ADAM: How about a quiet night in?
Dean looked at the message. He was starting to feel like normal was fucking boring anyway. Again.
