This story was published as a part of the Only fools die of heartbreak collection by Equus Press. It was New Year’s Eve and I had been drinking through the night at our place. Dee had some of her psychology-study friends over, including a gay little bugger called Janko. I didn’t care about the gayness, but the poor guy, "gay" was the hype that preceded him – “He’s gay,” Dee had said continually. “Gay gay gay gay gay.” “I don’t care if he’s queer as a science-fiction opera,” I had said, “so long as it makes him happy. And I don’t even care about that.” Janko showed – skinny little short scowling four-eyed unshaven bugger, Janko. I didn’t see anything