FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"How did it feel being a millionaire's puppy?" My voice sounded a little tinny, spoken from behind a camera.

A wolf sat centred in frame, seated on a milk crate with his back to a brick wall in an alleyway. He had gentle brown fur interspersed with grey tones which lightened the fluffier fur along his neck. He blinked, his gaze drifted from the lens of the camera as he cleared his throat.

"Like living in a bubble." He paused to take a deep breath. "It was luxurious. Emotional, both good and bad. And, and stifling. Though I had everything." He wrinkled his nose. "Sorry. It's... confusing."

There was tension in his voice.

Silence followed, the shot hung on his face. The sound of his uncertainty dwarfed the silence.

A tape clicked like an old recorder as black filled the screen.

A panning shot of the Fowling cityscape at sunset crept in with the documentary's title card.

Mutt.

"My name's Alex Sarromo." The wolf spoke as the shot faded back in. He sat easy, his voice far more casual than the introduction. "Though most know me as Mutt." A slight frown tugged at his lips. "And I used to run the largest soup kitchen in Fowling."

"Where did your love for charity come from?" I asked.

"I was homeless for two years, starting when I was sixteen. I know what it's like, and I wanted to make a difference." He paused. "Wanted is a bad way to put it. I needed to. There are too many people going through what I went through who will never get their golden ticket. I refused to waste my chance."

"So why'd you stop running the soup kitchen?"

"Life got in the way, but I left it in good hands. I wanted to make an even bigger difference." He bit his lip. "I started a medical engineering degree at Fowling Tech. Wanted to make affordable equipment that could help those in need. There's too much suffering in the world and I wanted that to change. I had no idea what I was really getting into, but I was driven."

He knew this was coming.

I still dreaded asking it.

"That's a big step up from being homeless as a teenager. Who supported you through it?"

His expression shifted.

"Brock Fletcher." A touch of bitterness clung to the name. "We had a... complicated arrangement."

I cut to B-roll footage of Fowling's central business district as my narration played.

"Brock Fletcher is the founder and ex-CEO of Etcher, a frontrunner app of the social media age. He was once hailed as a tech savant for his role in redefining social interactions in a digital context but now the sabretooth has all but been erased from Etcher's history."

Footage and photos of Brock filled the screen. The tawny sabretooth was muscular, tall and knew how to smile. He had a natural charisma that was rare in the industry. Though a lot of the earlier footage had him well-dressed in suits I included some more recent shots from after he came out.

He'd pierced his left ear, dressed more casual and never made an appearance without a different colour of dye streaked through the fur of his short mane.

"In the final months of his leadership he made a sudden shift towards philanthropy, claiming Etcher would cease being profit driven. Instead its earnings would be invested in society, seeking to end homelessness and improving the state of affordable medical technology. The change baffled some while most celebrated, but we wouldn't learn the reason for Brock's change of heart for some time to come."

A whirl of news broadcasts filled the screen as snippets of audio were highlighted amongst them.

"...first openly gay CEO..."

"...Fletcher pivots towards charity..."

"...Brock's ex-wife airs his dirty laundry..."

"...Etcher's Board of Directors votes to fire Brock Fletcher..."

"...how one Fowling CEO's sex scandal reshaped telecommunications..."

"...concerns Brock's lover may have been..."

"...disgraced tech king fights the allegations of abuse..."

"...alleged 'puppy' is Alex Sarromo..."

"...Sarromo's parents plea for understanding..."

An unsettling backing track swelled to a crescendo alongside the snippets before it crashed into silence.

My voice cut through the quiet.

"When was the last time you saw Alex?"

The shot cut to two adult wolves in a rundown living room.

A title flashed under them.

Amy & Drew Sarromo

Alex's parents

"Five years ago." Amy's voice was touched by sadness. Her coat was brown, a shade darker and better groomed than Alex's. She had bright blue eyes and a fierce face, though she looked humbled under the lens. Her husband was shorter, a little pudgy and his rusty-grey fur was barely kempt enough to be presentable. He wore a guarded sneer, like he didn't entirely want to be there.

"Do you regret kicking him out?" I asked.

Amy's face scrunched. "I regret that there wasn't another way."

Drew frowned at the camera. "Times were tough. We didn't have a good relationship, we thought... look. We'd do things differently if given a second chance. But we did what we had to do. We were behind on rent, eating rice twice a day. Bills were piling up, we fought with him every single day. In some ways we thought he'd find a way to be better off."

He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "It's something that shames me to my core, that I couldn't provide. I'd failed as a father, so I cut my losses." He turned away from the lens, one hand on his chin as he shook his head. "It was my decision," he added.

"It happened twice," Amy mumbled. "He came back to us once, and we tried. We really tried to make it work but we'd both been laid off around the same time..." She sighed, something wistful in her stare. "He couldn't find work either, we just couldn't support him."

"Are you more stable now?" I asked.

Amy nodded. "Yes."

"And have you tried to reconnect with him?"

She opened her mouth but held her tongue.

"No. He's got his own life now," Drew replied.

The statement stewed on the screen before it cut forward.

"So what was your reaction to the news that he was in with Brock Fletcher?"

An awkward wince broke on Amy's face. "We were shocked of course."

"It was good to know he was alive." Drew's gaze drifted from the camera once more. He looked about to say more but held his tongue.

"There's- we. Well, we haven't really spoken about the... that much." She waved it off.

"What do you say about something like that?" He grimaced. "Our son was many things as a boy, even more as a teenager. We never knew him as an adult but to know he was... that. It was shameful. What do you say to the rest of your family? We had neighbours prying. People were sure we were getting kickbacks."

"How did it feel to be at the centre of a media storm?"

Amy made an exasperated sound. "It was confusing and chaotic. We were afraid about what would happen. People thought the worst of us." She wrung her hands in her lap. "There was that, um. That conspiracy." She scoffed. "That we sold him. It was absurd. It was a lot to process, and I don't-I don't think this is something a parent ever wants to discover about their child."

"We grieved his absence for years, and that was how he popped back on our radar." Drew grimaced. "I thought it was some sick joke, or some mistake or something."

Amy nodded in agreement. "On one hand, it was all that. On the other, a part of me was relieved. He was alive. He'd found his way. I just, I dunno. I try not to think about it."

Drew shook his head. "Should've found a normal way to pull himself up." He snorted. "It's obscene."

I cut back to Alex again, a different interview this time.

He sat comfortably on a couch in a coffee house, dressed in a red checkered shirt. His fur was a little longer, and there was ease to him the previous interview hadn't captured.

"How did it feel to be at the centre of a media storm?" I spoke in the same tone I'd asked his parents.

He grimaced.

"Awful? There's no words that can properly convey what that felt like. I was used to people ignoring me no matter what, that was trauma from being homeless I'll carry with me the rest of my life. But this was the opposite, and it was just as traumatic." He spoke clearly and kept eye contact with the lens.

"People scrutinised every detail, they made things up just to appease their fantasies. I spent some of the worst days of my life glued to my phone, unable to look away." He sighed. "People still speculate. About me. Where I came from. Everything. My age? Like it means something to them. They're taking cheap shots at him, but it hurts me. It hurts. I made choices I'm comfortable living with forever, but nobody else besides him will ever truly understand the situation."

He bit his lip.

"I... did not enjoy my parents getting involved either." He huffed and shook his head. "I did my best to avoid them but every time I doomscrolled it was like stepping on a landmine to see their faces." He stared into the lens of the camera. "It was a bad time for me. I was really sensitive because..." he trailed off. "It really was a public break up. The most public break up."

"With Brock?" I asked for clarity.

He nodded.

"Tell me about your time with him."

He whistled. "Where to even start?"

*****

Alex tapped the table between us, the sign to cut something out.

"Did you want me to talk about how I met him?" he asked.

An awkward grin crossed my face. "Uhh, up to you." He'd told me all about it without a camera in his face. And while I did find it fascinating it was maybe a little unnecessary for the documentary. But if he wanted it in I'd put it in.

"I think..." He hummed over it for a moment. "Leave it out." He clicked his tongue. "Reckon I've done enough harm to my credibility as is."

That was something he was too keenly aware of. We'd spent a lot of time together, discussing the project, doing interviews. Even just hanging out and getting to really know each other. And this notion of perception, that others couldn't believe or understand him was a constant.

I bit my lip. "I think you're credible enough to tell your own story."

"Sure. I also know people will think I'm full of shit." He wore a bitter grimace. "A thief who hit the jackpot."

My heart ached. I felt queasy enough training a camera on someone recounting their trauma.

"We don't have to do this," I offered. I'd put dozens of hours into this project already, but I'd trash it all if it made him comfortable.

But Alex shook his head.

"Gotta set the record straight."

*****

"Our situation was, well, it was a kink of his. I don't think it was entirely sexual but I'd be lying if I said that wasn't most of it." Alex stared at his hands before he continued.

"I think he liked to take care of me. He liked the way I looked up to him. He said it made him feel big, made him feel alive. I didn't really relate to the sort of pleasure he got out of that, he was very ego-driven. But it was fine. He quite literally pulled me off of the streets when I was eighteen. I wasn't going to fight a good thing."

"Was he a generous man?" I asked.

"I would say so, but... it's not hard to be generous when it comes at no expense to yourself. If he wasn't so wealthy, I can't say. He'd be a different person." His nose twitched. "I also can't say the things he did for me weren't life changing. Our relationship was an ongoing transaction we both benefited from. And when the dust settled I think I made out better than he did. Which is... difficult to reflect on."

"Can you describe the sort of things you'd do together?"

Alex shrugged. "He had free use of my body. You can imagine the rest. I was his, even wore a collar. We did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it."

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Mhm." He flicked his gaze back to the camera, a wry smile on his face.

"Was it ever uncomfortable?"

"Not really? Maybe sometimes, but I was under no illusions. I kept him happy, he kept me alive in luxury. Those were the terms and I won't deny I enjoyed it. He let me live a life I couldn't even dream of, and for a long time I intended to make the most of it. He was caring too, for the most part."

"But things changed?"

He nodded. "I was with him for two years without so much as a fight. But not long after I met my boyfriend. He got jealous. Things... exploded. Uh, one day. That Day, I call it."

"What happened on That Day?"

"He got possessive the more I drifted away from him. He wanted so much of my time to the point it was eating into my other commitments. And it got messy. Real bad. We argued, and it- I admit I was angrier than I expected I'd be. Two years of appeasing someone else's every wish takes more of a toll than I'd realised." Bitterness stalked his words. "So I left, he followed." Alex licked his lips nervously. "He left bleeding," he said with a hint of mystery.

I cut the recording and flashed a title for the next interview.

That Day

The text faded into the following shot of a well-lit room. Three stools took the centre of the frame. Alex sat in the middle, to his left was a burly boar who looked far older and to his right was a tiger around his age.

Their names flashed on screen.

Davie & Samel

"My name is Samel. I'm Alex's boyfriend," the tiger spoke clearly though there was a nervous energy about him.

"I'm Davie. I'm Samel's boyfriend," the boar grinned.

"And what's Alex to you?" I asked.

Davie's eyes cut suspiciously to the side. "Roommate."

"Roommates." Alex nodded.

Samel struggled to hide a grin, though Alex kept composed.

"How did you meet Alex?" I asked Samel.

"I was his chemistry tutor at Fowling Tech. He was struggling with the course content and sought me out for private lessons. I figured I could use the money. I uh. Was pretty surprised he lived in North Fowling. More shocked it was a penthouse." He paused to rub his nose, clearly flustered. "Realised pretty quick whose money I was taking. And it was... um. He used to wear a collar and well..." He glanced at Davie. "It was nice to know someone else could relate. Um, atypical relationships and all. We became fast friends, and uh, more. Quite quickly."

"And you didn't mind?" I trained the camera on Davie.

"F**k no." I'd censored him in post-production. "Samel deserved a guy like Alex long before I was around."

I widened the shot just in time to catch a smile flicker on the tiger's face.

"What was your read on Brock?"

"Imperceptible." Samel frowned. "He could be kind or cruel, and you were never really sure which Brock you'd get on the day."

"And you?" I shifted to Davie.

"C**t. Complete and utter c**t. Didn't trust him from go."

"Is that why you knew you had to intervene on That Day?"

"I knew I had to intervene because he was trying to abduct my friend." Davie glowered at the camera like the question was a joke.

"What can you say about That Day?"

"He barged into my f**kin' house, failed to coerce Alex out and then he grabbed him. I'd seen enough. I threw a punch." His eyes narrowed as he raised a meaty fist. "Coulda killed him."

"I'm not a violent person," Samel added. "Like the thought would usually never cross my mind. But that moment was different. I drew blood. Dunno. Really felt like he'd storm out of there and we'd never see Alex again."

Alex stared at his lap with a glum expression.

"Hate thinking about that," he muttered. "They both know how much it means to me that they stopped him, but that moment was when I realised how much of myself I'd lost." He exhaled sullenly. "I couldn't think. Couldn't move. Brock had lifted me out of poverty, he'd given me everything. I'd been with him for two years, but I'd only known Samel for months. I was so conflicted. It felt like I had to go with him but I didn't want to. I froze up."

Samel's paw came to rest on the wolf's leg.

I cut back to Alex's interview in the coffee shop.

"How strong were your feelings for Brock?"

"Intense. I loved him for a long time. Things started sexual, but I fell for him romantically and I knew he didn't want that. So I hid it." Alex sighed.

"He was my protector and provider, he'd picked me from the dirt and polished me into something more. I was barely an adult. How could I not have fallen for him? He seemed... no, he was kind. I do think he did well by me for most of it, just..." He loosed a heavy sigh. "His jealousy really was what killed it, at first."

"At first?"

He grimaced. "I... found it difficult to look past all he'd done for me." He picked his words carefully. "We ran into each other one day. I was on a date with Samel, and we passed each other by. He sent me a text a few hours later. I was still using the phone he'd bought me. Still on the plan he was paying for." He shook his head.

"I hadn't really known how to untangle myself from his finances, and I didn't want to for a long time. But he sent me an earnest apology, and I think he was going to leave it at that. He could've done it any time before then, but those months amounted to a show of restraint which convinced me. Pain's his only teacher, I guess."

Alex leant forward on his elbows as he clutched his head.

"I um..." His lips twitched. "I had bottled a lot. When I was with him the world was my oyster. There was potential in everything I saw. I knew how awful things were and Brock was my ticket to change it. Half the reason I was studying was so I could push his money in better directions. Without him, all that drive, all that passion, all the pain I'd endured on the streets it would hardly make a difference." Fire crept into his voice as he spoke.

"I thought I was happy, but his message made me realise just how much I'd been holding back. My mental at the time was bleak. I was failing my education. I'd mope around and hope I could make something of myself but I knew I was failing that too."

"But that's only one side of it." He exhaled. "I missed him. And I know how insane that sounds. Believe me it burns my ears because a small part of me still misses him. He picked me up as a damaged, broken thing and he helped nurture me into someone who thought they could change the world." His voice went quiet as he folded his arms.

"He knew just how bad he'd hurt me. And he apologised expecting nothing in return. It struck some desperate part of me. I was wary, but I tested the waters." He licked his lips. "I wanted to see how far he was really willing to go. It was all or nothing, I'd only forgive him if he made real changes. Big changes." There was something sombre in his voice.

"It takes cents to make a meal, through the right channels five bucks can have someone clothed, fed and sheltered for a week. It doesn't take a genius to look at a business worth billions and consider the possibilities."

"And did he do it?" I asked.

Alex nodded slowly. "I told him my plan. Go not for profit. No half measures, anything past covering expenses would go to building charity networks that could get help to all the right places." There was a hungry look in his eye as he drew in a short breath.

"And he started building on it. He wanted what I wanted, but he actually understood how to make it happen. He could run in the direction I pointed. I was hesitant to forgive him, I had to see it in motion first. But he really did it."

"So you were the reason Etcher's business model shifted so suddenly?"

He nodded, a smug grin on his lips. "If only it lasted."

"If only. How was your relationship different after that?"

"It was a lot more even. I won't put a label on it. We were two guys with a complicated history but we were making the most of it. I think acknowledging that my love for him was damaged by the pain he caused was an important step for me." He bit his lip. "Certainly made it easier when things came crashing down."

"What do you think of Brock now?"

He squinted at the question. The camera kept rolling as he struggled for words.

Discomfort made my stomach tight.

His hand drifted to his neck, the movement so clearly habitual. His fingers tensed upon finding nothing, something shifted in his expression.

"I'd rather not answer that on camera."

As the shot faded to black, audio of Alex taking a heavy breath played.

I cut back to his interview with Samel and Davie.

He looked livelier alongside them, there was energy in his voice as he spoke.

"There's-" He clicked his tongue. "We've never told anyone about all this. But there's this image in my head of Davie pinning him to the floor. His fang's broken. There's blood all over his face. Davie's got another fist in the air-"

"--Like I said, coulda killed him-" Davie snorted.

"--Samel's pulling on his arm and screaming for him to stop." Alex's ears fell flat against his skull. "And I knew I should be doing something. I'd been in fights before, things happen fast. Usually I was good at keeping my wits about me, but I watched. I don't- I don't like thinking what might've happened if I got involved."

"What would you have done?" I asked.

He made an exasperated sound. "I wanted it all to stop. I would've shoved Davie off and left with Brock. I don't really know what would've happened next. I truly believe it wouldn't have been anything too bad, but..."

Samel grimaced and Davie shook his head.

"Davie got off of him. He got up and he was pissed, had this wounded look in his eyes. Like he wanted to strike back, get his revenge. He grabbed Samel's wrist."

Davie growled. "I told him to let Samel go, or I would kill him." The boar's voice fell to gravel, rage burned through his words. "And he did. But I meant what I said."

Samel held his own wrist gingerly. "He left after that. But I was shit scared. For Alex, for myself. For Davie."

"Did you go to the police?" I asked.

Alex laughed, the sound tainted by bitterness. "Why would we? Would've been a waste of time. Might've scared Brock into pressing charges, not worth it."

"And despite all of that, you still managed to forgive him?"

He winced. "Once. I forgave him once, and I learned my lesson. I think it's fair to say I wasn't in my right mind. Maybe I'm still not. I can think it through logically and think I was ridiculous." He paused, brow furrowed. "But I know what I felt at the time. What his wealth offered warped any attempts at logic and I was keen to try get what I wanted."

"And what about you two?"

"F**k no. But I get it." Davie cast Alex a sorry look.

Samel scowled and shook his head. "No shot."

"Any other comments?"

"I punched a f**king millionaire." Davie stared directly into the lens as an intense grin filled his face. "That's the best thing I'll ever do with my life."

The shot hung on his smile.

A new shot faded in.

Set in a sunny park with a winding river in the background.

A large sabretooth sat on a bench. He wore a leather jacket, his left ear was pierced and he had a streak of dyed blue fur through his mane.

A title on the lower left of the frame bore his name:

Brock Fletcher

He stared into the lens, eyes bright.

"Right here." He pointed to the right side of his face. "Felt like a train hit me. Broke my fang." He pushed a finger under his lip to show the gum, still inflamed around the base of the large tooth. The dentistry was near flawless.

I zoomed in on the faintest hint of a crack.

"And did you deserve it?"

Brock scrunched his face as he nodded. "There's not a day where I don't regret my behaviour. I-" He sucked in a long breath. "I was jealous. Mutt-" Annoyance flashed across his face. "Alex," he corrected himself. "Changed fast. I was proud of him. He'd pulled himself up and studied hard to get into Fowling Tech. I wanted him to make friends. Hell, I hoped he would meet someone." He shuffled uncomfortably on the bench. "I just wasn't prepared when he actually did."

He folded his arms to try compose himself, but his hands fell to his lap after a moment. He shifted his gaze to the side, the briefest flash of anger rose on his face before he shook his head and continued.

"I behave... improper to those I come to depend on," he muttered. Shame clung to his words. "I was a bad father and a worse husband. But to Mu... to Alex I was everything I promised him I wouldn't be. Jealous. Controlling." His eyes narrowed. "Manipulative, and that only pushed him further from me. That Day I'd had enough. He was mine, so I would take him. That's what I was thinking when I showed up at Davie's." He rubbed idly at the right side of his face.

"I got what was coming to me."

The shot lingered on him for a moment longer, the defeated look in his eyes only grew.

An obvious cut followed.

The sun had crept forward in the sky, birds now chirped quietly in the background.

There was so much of this interview I edited out.

I wasn't even playing to a narrative, there were just too many things he repeated. He'd circle questions back to answers he wanted to give like his experience in public relations hadn't burned alongside his career.

"But he forgave you?" The question made Brock tense.

"I don't- I don't know why. But he did, months later. He's too kind. Far kinder than I would've been. And he gave me a second chance, on his terms this time. No more puppy business. None of that. He made it clear to me how much of an impact we'd had on each other's lives, that I mattered to him. So he would forgive me. On one condition: everything had to change."

"Was that the beginning of the end for your career?" I asked.

He nodded. "I welcomed it. He wanted the world to change and I was convinced." He exhaled heavily. "There's this quote, that power reveals. The idea that if you give someone power they'll expose who they really are. I had power, and I was terrible. But he made me a better person. He changed me. I liked who I was better when he was by my side, so I gave everything I had to try keep it that way."

"Did you know you were going to be fired?"

His leg bounced anxiously. "No, at least not then. I knew it was a possibility, I was playing that game and I thought things would be fine. But I lost. You can't tell your business profits are over and expect things to go smoothly." He snorted, anger lurked in his voice.

"Alex really spelled it out to me then. I thought we had something more, but no, our relationship was transactional. It had been since the moment I met him. And I could no longer provide what he wanted. So he left me too. I lost everything I was in that moment." He hung his head. "But I can't bring myself to begrudge him." He rubbed the right side of his jaw. "I know what happens if I do."

"What happened over the following months?"

"I was in a bad way." He shuffled on the bench. "I tried- look. There's a lot I tried. And I came up short. The image I had of myself was built on stilts. People tolerated me for who I was, and now I'm no longer that person. It's... something I'm still coming to terms with. It's actually his advice that's guiding me. There is no starting over, but change can be ongoing so that one day it might amount to something more." He hung his head.

"I'm still waiting for that something more. I suppose I will be for a long time." He exhaled. "He was always wiser than me. I think that's why... I don't know what I'm saying. I was drawn to him for more than just his body."

"Do you keep tabs on him?"

Brock's brow folded. "He's made it clear he doesn't want me in his life. I've left him be." Nerves played out on his face. "I'll admit I have tried to look him up once or twice. I just... I want to know if he's happy."

Another obvious cut followed.

"And what's next for Brock Fletcher?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I make ends meet. I try do right by my family. And I hope every night he knows how sorry I am."

*****

I met Alex at the coffee house we frequented and started recording audio as I often did when we spoke about the project.

I was hesitant when he sat down. Nerves chewed at my thoughts.

"I have a terrible question for you." My heart was racing. This was a bad idea.

A bad, bad, very bad idea.

"Hmm?" He looked at me.

I was beyond certain this would break his trust but I couldn't help myself.

"I mean it. This is awful. Say no immediately and we'll never speak of it again."

I think he knew.

He looked at me differently. There was disgust in the shadows of his face.

He didn't bare it plainly, but it was coming.

"Um. Can I interview him?"

The question hung in the air.

His eyes never left mine.

His lips twitched.

Despair filled him.

He opened his mouth.

Frustration flickered on his face.

He stared at the ground for a lengthy moment.

Anxiety gouged itself through my belly.

That was it.

I'd pissed him off.

I'd sunk the project.

He'd storm off and I'd never see him again.

He inhaled slowly as he raised his gaze back to my face.

"He-" Alex growled, his fangs bared. "He'll fall humble before the camera. He'll speak honest words, hollow words. And he'll sound sorry. He'll sound changed. He'll say anything to make you think he's capable of those things. He'll try sneak in another apology to me. Don't buy it. Nobody should buy it. Do not trust him, even for a second." Passion blazed in his voice. "He doesn't deserve any pity."

I stopped recording.

Guilt dredged through me.

Alex was staring at my hands.

He tilted his head.

"Sorry," I sighed. "I knew it was a bad idea I just-"

"Are you in contact with him?"

I nodded.

"Take the interview."

I froze.

"Huh?"

"And you cut right to what I just said the moment he's done talking."

*****

That was a week before my interview with Brock.

I edited in a transcript of that exchange as the audio played out.

It haunted me.

Alex knew him inside out.

That growl was instinctual and defensive. The sound of a wounded wolf.

The heat in Alex's words proved itself justified.

The words faded from the frame which held black for a moment longer.

I cut back to the interview with Alex's parents.

"You did an interview with a news station that became quite infamous, did you have anything you wanted to say about that?" I addressed the question to Drew.

"Nope." The wolf folded his arms. "My son can be whoever he wants to be. And I can respond to that however I feel is necessary. He's a f*g. Great. It's his life. He's a whore? Sure. But that reflects on me and I will clarify he wasn't raised to be either of those things."

A slight frown pulled at Amy's lips, but she said nothing.

"What if he's happy like that?"

"Good for him." Drew snorted. "If anyone has a problem with me, do us both a favour and butt out of my life."

I held the camera on him a moment longer, his defensive stare softened.

I cut to black.

"I wouldn't say that." Samel's voice was mirthful as he spoke over the darkness.

The shot cut in, just Samel and Alex.

The two of them on a worn sofa in their living room. Intimate and warm.

They were both smiling at each other.

"You made the first move." Samel folded his arms as he spoke.

"Wh- I said I liked you, but it was your date. You planned it." Alex glared at him playfully.

"You stole my shot! It was my shot to shoot and you took it." The tiger chuckled.

"Yeah. 'Spose so." Warmth filled Alex's voice. "And I'm glad I did."

"Me too."

I cleared my throat. They were too cute to cut out entirely, but this wasn't entirely why I'd set up this interview.

"Do you feel like your sexuality drew undue scrutiny to the situation?" I projected my voice a little louder than usual just to make sure I had their attention.

"It's hard to-" Samel started.

"Oh almost certainly." Alex spoke over him. "Freaks came out of the woodwork to say the most f**ked up things you could imagine."

"But you can't prove it was homophobia, people like taking shots at-"

"Sure I can. There's that actor, dude in his 50s. His love life is a revolving door of girls under 21. And that's out of sight out of mind but everyone knows." There was a touch of smugness in Alex's voice.

"But he doesn't try to kidnap them when-"

"Nobody knew that but us. That's not what people were raving about."

"Fine. But it's still not the same."

They'd started speaking faster as they held eye contact with each other.

"Okay, but it works as a point of comparison. Don't think many people find themselves in the situation I was in."

Samel squinted at him. "I just feel like there's more animosity there than homophobia."

"Oh I agree, but the homophobia really pushed things further than it needed to go."

"I just- I dunno. I can see it being just as bad. He was a big deal, huge deal at the time. When Etcher changed he was in the spotlight, people were actually on his side, even more so when he got fired. But when all that came out, a lot of people really felt betrayed."

"And a lot of people really hate that we exist."

"Yeah, but..."

I panned the camera to the right as they quibbled.

Past the lighting equipment, Davie leant against a doorframe as he watched with a dumb smile on his face. He looked surprised the camera was on him at first, but he kept watching them.

"I love it when they get like this." He chuckled. "I don't think they realise how perfect they are for each other yet."

"You reckon?"

He nodded. "I've never made Samel this happy."

The quibbling stopped.

I trained the camera back on them, they were both staring off screen to where Davie was.

"He thinks he's so subtle." Samel shook his head.

Alex was grinning too hard to say anything.

I cut the shot.

I played a quick reel of news headlines covering the backlash Brock received. Pervert, degenerate, freak. Insults and slurs flew from the captions highlighting the homophobia baked into the discourse.

It faded into another shot of Brock's interview.

"I feel like I've poisoned the well." Regret slicked Brock's words as he grimaced. "It's one of those things that haunts me. I was, I mean. I dread to call myself it now, but I was a queer icon in the tech space. When I came out things changed. We had more openly queer people apply for jobs at Etcher. Acquaintances I'd known for decades were pulling me aside to tell me I made them more comfortable to be themselves." He snarled.

"I know I've let them down. Some of the harshest criticisms I've received since everything happened came from those who looked up to me for who I was." He hung his head.

"It pains me. I feel like I've set things back decades. Bigots use me as an excuse to mouth off and say others are just like me. They aren't." Frustration backed his words as he growled.

"Does this affect you more than what happened between you and Alex?"

He cocked his head in thought.

"It's different. I won't compare them, they weigh on me in different ways at different times." He furrowed his brow. "It's my legacy now." He sucked in a lengthy breath and exhaled. "The f**kwit who ruined a decade of progress, beloathed for his knack for harvesting data." He retched like the words tasted foul. "Dug my own grave really, just hate to know I took others down with me."

"If you could pick between undoing the harm you've done to Alex or the damage you've done to the queer rights movement, which would you choose?"

Brock slumped, though his fists were clenched.

"The latter. In a heartbeat."

*****

Alex and I were huddled around my laptop.

He gripped his knees as he drew in controlled breaths.

We'd just finished watching the entirety of Brock's interview together.

"You called it exactly." I put a hand on his back, hoping it would comfort him. "Is it worth putting in?"

He looked to me with pain in his eyes. "I think you have to."

I twitched, surprised. "How come?"

"He should get a say."

"It's your story."

But Alex shook his head. "I need this to be even-handed. It can't feel like, like dunking on him or something. He's contentious enough already, but let him speak his truth."

"Um. What if his truth conflicts with yours?"

He frowned. "That's just how the world works. "

I dipped my chin. "Understood."

*****

The shot cut back to another interview with Alex in an alleyway, in a slightly different location to the first. His winter coat had grown in, but he looked at ease.

"How did things end with you and Brock?" I prompted.

Alex nodded as he gathered his thoughts.

"After he made Etcher change, I felt like I'd won. I really thought it was something permanent, that I'd forced the world to change for the better." He snorted bitterly. "But he got fired. I didn't even know that could happen. It was crushing, it really was. I felt... smaller than I ever had before. I thought I'd tamed a giant but we were nothing to the leviathan just out of sight." He shook his head.

"And that was it. Up until then there was a part of me that was still naive. I'd carried it with me through homelessness, through Brock, through everything. But it snapped." He turned his head down for a long moment.

"I'd trusted him one last time and he promised me things would be alright. He lived in a world where he was the biggest thing around, and I was caught in his orbit. He failed. He lied to me. I needed to escape so I could see the world with fresh eyes."

He shuffled where he sat, anxiety made his voice tight.

"He was desperate to keep me, he got... I would cautiously use the word violent. Not towards me, but he was breaking things." His nose twitched. "And drinking. Must've slammed half a bottle of whiskey the moment he got home. I was afraid. The only time I'd seen him in such a mood was That Day..." He drew a long breath.

"I needed to get out of there. So I stood up to him, told him I was leaving. And that was terrifying. He saw me shaking, but he recoiled. He wound up sobbing at my feet, begging me not to go. Things could've been worse." He chuckled nervously. "I think it broke him."

"Did you think he was going to hurt you?" I asked.

Alex nodded slowly. "I was in survival mode, I was reeling. Didn't know what to do until he was there with me. I guess I had to know how I felt about him, and it wasn't anything good." He paused to suck in a shallow breath.

"He scared me. His ego was what it was always about, his business, his reputation, me, we were just things to help prop it up. And his ego was burning up before my eyes." He chewed his lip, eyes narrowed. "He got dangerous enough when it was bruised, I wasn't going to find out what would happen after this."

He leant back against the bricks, expression transfixed by anxiety. "I remember standing outside the building. My hands were shaking so bad trying to call Samel, but it dawned on me it was over." Something warmer flickered on his face. "And I sobbed. Out of sadness. Out of joy. I was a mess. Davie came and picked me up. Samel cradled me the entire way home. And the instant I was through their door I felt like I could breathe again." He sniffed, half a smile on his lips. "It wasn't like the first time. There was no guilt. I didn't have any questions for me or for him. The last time I saw Brock he was clinging to my legs and pleading. And I walked away unburdened."

He took a deep breath.

"The moment I heard he got fired was when reality came crashing in. Something had finally popped his little bubble. I mourn the way Etcher undid all the good we'd done, but that was part of the reality check. I could be normal now. I could do the little things I could manage and not consider how it'd help me change everything." He rubbed his hands excitedly against his legs.

"That... lust for making things better had devoured me. But now I was free."

He took another deep breath and smiled at the camera.

"Maybe that sounds bad. I dunno. But for years it ate at my every thought. I would torture myself on world news, I'd use it to focus my drive, to be aware of everything I thought I could fix. I didn't have to do that anymore." He nodded.

"I dropped out of my degree, and I'm so much better off for giving up." He spoke with excited gusto. "The person who started that course was full of aspirations beyond what anybody could achieve on their own. I held myself to crushing standards but now I could let them go before they killed me. I'd spent so long living for my ideals but I never had a chance to live for myself until now."

His hands were shaking. "I wake up every day with a clear head and that's more of a comfort than luxury."

"What do you hope people learn from your story?" I asked. I couldn't stop the warmth in my voice from being audible. When he got like this, it was infectious.

"That it's all bullshit. The world can change. It is flexible." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Things can be better, but the force that drives that change has to be stronger than the force that prevents it. There are so many systems in place to stop it from happening, so many problems to solve. We can still do it, but nobody can fix what's broken on their own. Connect with your communities, help those in need. Support each other no matter what. But look after yourself too, so when push comes to shove you'll be ready."

"What's next for you?"

He shrugged. "I think for the first time in my life I know what it feels like to be truly happy. I've got an incredible partner, a bunch of friends. I work for a living, it's honest and it isn't much but three times a week I have time to volunteer. Maybe one day I'll need something more, but things feel right for me. This is the life I dreamt of when I was on the streets, one full of comfort and love. The life I thought I could have once I'd actually made it." His eyes glistened. "Guess I finally made it." His voice cracked.

I cut the shot.

*****

I lowered the camera, my belly glowed with warmth.

"That was perfect." There was a husk in my throat.

He smiled and dabbed at the moisture in his eyes.

"Am I calling it Mutt or Alex?" I asked.

The wolf's brow furrowed as he thought. "Mutt."

"Oh? I thought you were done with that."

He shook his head. "This'll be the last hoorah. You've got it all covered, so I can square it away and never look back."

I nodded slowly. "That seems good then."

He took a deep breath as he composed himself. He stared at me with tears in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said. "For all of this."

I smiled warmly. "Of course, but thank you too. Letting me cover your story isn't exactly selfless."

He stood on shaky legs. "Sure."

"I'll have the final cut ready soon. It's been a pleasure." I raised a hand to the space between us.

He spread his arms instead.

I rose into his embrace.

He said nothing as he wrapped himself around me.

I'd grown used to his affection. Long, steady hugs that dragged on without outstaying their welcome. It was his way of affirming the things he felt. His gratitude manifested in the strength of his arms.

He tucked his snout against my neck, his tail wagged gently.

I had started this project with an open mind. I didn't know him. I didn't know Brock. I'd tried to stay impartial but it really didn't take long for me to grow an appreciation for Alex. I respected the hell out of him, and I hoped he felt that in this embrace.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were damp but he wore a smile.

"Maybe this is silly," he said. "But once this is finished, I hope we can stay friends."

I stared into his eyes, he wasn't pleading but there was something raw in his stare. Every vulnerability he'd ever felt. His rejections, his failures, every scar that made him who he was. The experiences that made him the person I'd come to admire as I filmed.

"I'd like that." I nodded firmly.

He eased. All the tension left his body.

I think that was why I did this.

He'd left an impression on me.

He'd changed me through our contact in ways that felt like he opened doors in my mind I'd never would've considered otherwise. If Brock was right about anything, it was that Alex was kind. That he was wise. So much so that I felt lucky I'd even met him.

I wanted nothing more than to do right by him.

To watch him as he set out on the next chapter of his life.

I was just glad I'd get to see it.

*****

A message filled the screen.

Thank you for watching.

If you have the ability to, consider donating or volunteering your time to support people experiencing homelessness.

The credits followed. It was a small production. One frame, no scrolling as it hung for a few seconds.

But one final shot faded in.

Amy and Drew's living room.

"Alright. Thank you for your time, but one last thing." I held my phone up to the lens with Alex's contact selected though his number was hidden. "I have a surprise for you both."

As it started to ring I put it on the table before them and set it to speaker phone.

Amy's eyes went wide.

Drew stared, his face stony and unreadable.

"Hi." Alex's voice filled the room.

"Alex." Amy raised a hand to her mouth. "It's really you." She sniffed, her lips curled as she smiled.

"Yep."

"I always hoped one day somehow you'd..." Her smile faded. "I'm sorry."

Drew raised a hand to his wife's back. "We've missed you son."

"It's weird to hear your voices," Alex mumbled. He made a sound as he adjusted the phone. "I- I kind of thought I never would again, and I was okay with that." He swallowed a ragged breath.

"You always could've-" Amy started.

"Don't." Alex's voice was iron. "I couldn't."

Silence hung over them for a long moment.

"Things are better now." Drew rubbed his eye. "Doesn't have to be like before."

"Sure. I don't want to have this conversation over the phone." Alex sniffed. "Can we meet up?"

Amy's hands clutched her knees. "Please. Anywhere, any time."

"Alright. Good." He took in a deep breath. "There's a coffee house on-" I censored the specifics. "I work there. Come by after my shift, there's someone I'd like you to meet too."

"We'll be there."

"Good."

The phone clicked as he hung up.

Amy's gaze lingered on it, shell-shocked.

They looked at each other.

Drew opened his mouth to speak and sobbed instead.

She reached for his shoulder as I cut the footage.

End.