Idea in Stone Read Online Free PDF Page A

kind of hard to explain. I mean, it’s kind of reductive to take something as personal as a song and, you know, sum it up.”
    “Okay,” said Allen, “so what kind of song is it?”
    “It doesn’t really fall into a category, exactly. It’s—I dunno. I’ll play it for you guys sometime.” He turned to Stefan. “Do you think you could talk to one of your mom’s people for me?”
    Stefan squirmed. “You should really finish your demo first. They can’t do anything for you if you haven’t got a demo. And I don’t know if her agent is really the right person for you. I mean, she’s considered Folk, right?”
    “Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Rick. “I’ve gotta get that demo finished. I swear I’m going to do it first thing in the new year.”
    “That’s great,” said Stefan. The others made sounds of approval. Stefan regretted the thought, but was satisfied that he’d never have to present anything to anyone if he waited for Rick to finish the demo of his songs. They were good, the ones he’d heard, though most of them were about his ex-girlfriend. She’d been around for about a year, and sometimes he’d take her out with them, clutching to her to assert his straightness like a love-doll personal flotation device. Then she left for Japan or Malaysia or wherever it was, leaving their relationship sufficiently open-ended for him to imagine it was still going on.
    “I hate my job,” said Rick.
    “Then stop doing it,” replied Allen.
    “Easy for you to say. You’ve got buckets of money in the bank.”
    “Yeah, but I made it. It’s not like somebody just gave it to me.”
    “I think,” said Stefan, “that by the time you reach thirty, you’re kind of set money-wise. Like, you’re poor-thirty or rich-thirty, and it’s probably not going to change.”
    “Oh God,” said Paulo. Rick moaned in agreement.
    “So which are you?” Allen asked Stefan.
    “I guess I’m poor-thirty.”
    “Ha!” laughed Rick. “That’s a good one.”
    “What? You mean because of my mother?” Stefan shifted in his chair. “She’s not that rich, you know. She still has to keep doing records and shows, or we’d be sunk. And besides, just because she has money doesn’t mean I do. It’s not mine, you know. All my money comes from the voice-over work. I might not even have that soon.”
    “I still don’t think you’re poor-thirty,” said Rick casually over his drink.
    “I don’t like this idea,” said Allen. “I think that people are always free to be as successful as they want to be. They just don’t bother trying.”
    “Listen to you,” said Rick, turning to face him. “You’re so self-righteous about your success.”
    “And you’re self-righteous about your lack of it.”
    The evening was supposed to be fun and festive, but at this rate Stefan imagined them going home hating each other, so he changed the subject. “Hey, we should get moving if we’re going to make our supper reservation. Let’s get a cab.”

    ~

    “Surprise!” yelled a large group of people at the back of the bar. Supper had gone into overtime, so even the fashionably late were there when they brought Allen in. He was genuinely surprised, his eyes wide open with joy as people from various parts of his life made their way forward to congratulate him. Allen was out in every possible way, so he had no qualms about them meeting in a gay bar. Stefan, on the other hand, hadn’t mentioned it at work. He didn’t ever mention it if it wasn’t necessary, and took a secret enjoyment from situations where people didn’t know or made mistakes about him. (When his mother was around, these misunderstandings tended to get cleared up immediately.)
    Stefan pulled back from the crowd, happy for his friend, trying not to think about himself in relation to Allen’s situation. He started for the bar, but changed direction and headed downstairs to the bathroom, dodging the urinals at the last moment when he saw someone else standing there (not