Chapter Text
“Yes, I have finally caved and decided to call you. I’ve spent so much time wondering if I should or shouldn’t do it. I’ve been pestering my team non-stop, asking them what I should do. But it was all for nothing in the end, since I’m only getting your voicemail.” The male voice sounded nice, it had a soothing quality to it.
“It’s just that I haven’t heard from you in two weeks, and I thought ‘I should just call him, he must have missed the messages I left him on Insta and Grindr.’” The man sounded embarrassed at admitting that fact.
“I know you’re too busy with your job, and that you’re always on meetings. So, I said, ‘he probably hasn’t checked them.’ I sometimes forget that not everyone is like me and that people are ok with seeing the number of notifications on their screens pile up. Even though I think that ignoring those ever-growing numbers is almost impossible,” the person giggled a little bit, amused.
“Look, I know that you never reply straight away, which is why I sent you those messages on Instagram. And I know that you did see them because it says that all 15 of them have been seen. And yet, you still won’t reply. And it’s weird because the last couple of weeks it wasn’t like that, was it?”
There was a long pause, and then the person continued, voice soft, with a nostalgic tint to it, “I loved it when you would send me a random picture of something that you could see whenever you were. Whether it was the picture of your desk, the view from your window, the sidewalk you were walking, or a bird you saw on a tree. You would send them to me at any time, day or night. And I would send you back pictures of the station, the engine, my uniform, and whatever else that I thought might make you smile. Sometimes, we would spend hours sending pictures back and forth, and I was so, so happy.”
The person chuckled, seeming to be lost in memories, “I remember the day that we both sent a selfie at the same time with the caption ‘I miss you.’ You replied first with a ‘This is like magic’.”
The voice turned rough, as if the person was choking down on the emotions, “And for a little while it really seemed to be. The next morning, you made me breakfast, and I ate your doughnuts with turkey bacon, which tasted awful but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to destroy the magic that existed between us. And, as soon as I left, I sent you a text. A simple text, a smile.”
The voice started to sound more choked up, and it was clear that the person was getting teary-eyed.
“With that one smile, I was telling you that I wanted to repeat it all over the next day, and the day after that. I was saying that even though I had just left, I was already missing you.”
Losing the fight with the tears, the voice continued on in clear distraught, “ I felt as if I had finally found my missing piece. Someone who laughed at the same things I did. Someone who could love me for who I really am. Someone with whom I could have the most corny and cliché dates ever as if we were on a romcom. With that one smile, I was telling you all of those things. And you could have replied in a lot of different ways. You could have sent a smile back; you could have said ‘I feel the same’ or ‘I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.’ But you never did.”
The person took a deep breath, trying in vain to control themselves, “And you know what is the worst part? That one day we will run into each other, and I will put on a smile trying to look as if I’m fine with seeing you again, and you will say something like, ‘I just wanted us to be friends, everything gets ruined when you are in a relationship’. But all of that is just bullshit that guys like you say just to be able to fuck one guy, then another, and another.”
The voice gained volume, and the person started to sound angry, and yet, deeply hurt, “All to then say that it is impossible to find the perfect guy and that no one wants love. Well, guess what? I might not be perfect but I want love and I was the one who could have loved you unconditionally. But you have treated me like shit because I’m an idiot that for a few moments I let myself think that what we had was truly like magic and that you could love me for real. So, now, you can go and fuck yourself. Fuck you, your phone, and your fucking doughnuts with turkey bacon that no one can’t stand to eat, you asshole.”
The phone pings, indicating that the message has finally finished, so Tommy lowers his phone from his ear and looks at it in complete bewilderment.
“That was a really long message. Who was it? Is everything alright?” Lucy, his newly appointed - by herself - best friend and co-worker, asks him.
Lucy joined the Harbor station about a year ago and she had been immediately paired up with him. They had clicked pretty quickly, Lucy having an uncanniness ability to get him to open up about his feelings. She is a great listener but she also loves to tease him. She is definitely one for tough love, and doesn’t have any problem in calling him out when he is being difficult. He is glad to have her in the team.
Tommy slowly turns his head to look at her, and still feeling completely bewildered, says, “I have no idea.”
“What do you mean, you have no idea? That was a long-ass message, you were already on the phone when I ran into you outside in the parking lot,” Lucy asks, confused as well.
Tommy is glad he is not the only one confused by that voicemail. He shakes his head and starts to walk to the changing room, and Lucy hurries up to follow him.
“I don’t know, I don’t think it was for me,” Tommy replies, voice soft so that their other co-workers won’t hear him.
Unfortunately, Lucy doesn’t seem to care about that fact and continues to talk in her normal voice volume, “You think you don’t know. What does that mean?”
Once inside the changing room, and glad that no one is there at the moment, Tommy beelines to his locker, “It means that yes, it wasn’t for me. It was a guy, all up in arms about his boyfriend and some doughnuts? Honestly, I’m not sure,” Tommy tells him, trying to make sense of everything.
“If you were someone else, I would think that you had broken someone’s heart, and you don’t even remember them. But you’re you, so I know that’s not the case,” Lucy says, changing her clothes and laughing teasingly at him.
“Hey,” Tommy replies, offended. ”I would have you know that I have broken several hearts in my lifetime, and I remember all of them.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”
“Why are you laughing? It’s the truth,” Tommy says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Lucy is, of course, right. Tommy has dated, but usually, he is the one who ends up with a broken heart, not the other way around.
“Oh, I got it. I’m sure it was just, you know, when calls somehow get crossed or something like that,” Lucy tells him, not sounding convinced, and slowing down her walk.
Tommy guesses that it’s because she doesn’t want to reach the lounge area just yet, where some of the others already are.
“What? No way. That’s not something that actually happens. It only happened in the old movies from the Golden Age of Hollywood, or in those romcoms where there is a misunderstanding or a wrong number trope,” Tommy shakes his head in disbelief. He actually loves all of those movies, but he thinks that there is no way that something like that could happen in real life, and certainly not to him.
“Ok, but nowadays, it’s also really weird for someone to call the wrong number. You have to admit that.”
“He must have called from a landline, so he must have dialled without really checking, and he messed up a number or two. Makes perfect sense,” Tommy nodded to himself, happy to have come to that conclusion.
Lucy, however, was not happy with that explanation, “Why would anyone do that? Who even uses a landline anymore?”
Before Tommy can respond, the monotone and slightly sarcastic voice of their captain interrupts them, “If you’re done talking, I would love to begin with the morning briefing.”
Before Lucy can make a joke of some kind, Tommy nods and leads Lucy to one of the chairs, intending to put a hold on the voicemail debacle.
—-
Once the briefing is done and everyone gets sent to do different chores, Lucy turns to Julia, one of the paramedics, and immediately asks her, “Have you ever called a guy from a landline so that he wouldn’t know it was you?”
“Me? As if,” Julia scoffs.
Lucy is already looking smug, Tommy can see her opening her mouth to tell him ‘I told you so’, but Julia continues before she can say something. “But I know that some of my friends did it. Granted, it was when they were teenagers, but still.”
Tommy is the one who ends up looking at Lucy smugly, gesturing with his hands in a ‘you see?’ way.
“Why?” Julia asks them, intrigued by the admittedly odd question.
While slowly walking away from her, and taking Lucy with him, Tommy replies, “No, nothing. Just curious. Don’t worry about it. Thank you though!”
Julia looks sceptically at him, but then shrugs her shoulders and carries on walking to the supply closet.
“Well, your stranger is very mature, uh? I mean, that is a very mature thing to do, right?” Lucy says, laughing.
Ignoring her comment, Tommy asks, “Would it be completely weird if I were to call him?”
Having been told that they need to check one of the helicopters to see if everything is working correctly, Lucy makes her way to one.
“Why would you want to do that?” Lucy looks at him as if he were crazy.
“I don’t know,” Tommy shrugs his shoulders, trying to keep up with her long strides. “What if he regrets what he said to his boyfriend? Then, he could pretend that it never actually happened.”
Lucy opens the door of the helicopter and sits down, still looking at him with a doubtful expression.
“Look, I don’t know, I think I would like to know that I called the wrong number. I would appreciate it if the person called me back and let me know that I made a mistake.”
“Ok, but, if he sounded all up in arms maybe it’s not a good idea, you know? It’s none of your business after all,” Lucy replies while grabbing the manual to go over the security and safety procedures.
“I mean, yes but he sounded really nice. He had a soothing voice and he sounded heartbroken. And, well, he said that he believed in love and that he wanted real love, you know?” Tommy replies, looking at anywhere but her.
“Oh my god,” Lucy says. “Tommy, please, I’m begging you, don’t project what you feel and think to this random dude.”
Offended, Tommy looks at her, “I am not projecting.”
“You totally are. And don’t deny it,” Lucy says, pointing at him with his finger when she sees that Tommy is indeed going to deny it. “You are projecting, and then it goes all wrong, as always. And you’re the one that ends up broken-hearted. Just do me a favour, and delete that message and forget about him.”
Tommy sighs and shakes his head. He knows she is probably right, as she annoyingly tends to be.
“Ok, fine. Let’s just do the checkups before we get a call and let’s forget about the phone call.”
—
Despite what he had told Lucy, whenever they aren’t on calls, Tommy spends all his shift distracted by the thought of the voicemail and the stranger. Yes, the mystery man had indeed sounded a little bit unhinged, especially at the end of the voicemail, but everything he said was in reality really sweet, and it was obvious that the boyfriend had hurt him badly. Listening to the man’s voice crack with emotion, as it trembled and shook from the pain and disappointment, made Tommy feel for him.
Tommy himself hadn’t had a lot of luck when it came to relationships. At first, it had been because he was in denial and so deep in the closet that he would have moved two coats, he would have reached Narnia. Then, once he was able to stop lying to himself and accept who he truly was, he went through a phase of jumping into bed with every guy that he flirted with, it was as if he had been trying to make up for all the lost time. When that phase ended, which it did relatively quickly, Tommy had been ready to start something real. He started dating and had some relationships, but they all ended badly.
That’s why Tommy can relate to the voicemail person. He knows how hard dating is, how hard love is. And, if Tommy can make things a little bit better by letting him know that he had made a mistake, shouldn’t Tommy do it?
For the rest of the day, Tommy tries really hard not to think of the voicemail, even though he can sense his phone in his pocket, tempting him to make the call. But Lucy is probably right, Tommy doesn’t know who any of those people are, and it is better to just ignore it.
—
Tommy arrives at his place after his 24-hour shift, exhausted but craving something to eat, so his bed will have to wait a while more. He drops his keys on the bowl design for that, takes off his shoes, hangs his jacket, and releases a sigh, feeling himself relax by just being at his home.
Tommy was lucky and he was able to buy a house a couple of years ago. The house had needed a lot of work, and it had taken him years, but it now looks exactly how he likes it.
As soon as you walk in, there is a little hall. To the left, there is the balcony/terrace, which is perfect for those summer nights when you just want to drink a beer and enjoy the night. To the right, there is the living room and dining room. He doesn’t use the dining room, except for those very weird occasions when his coworkers decide it’s his turn to host a dinner. The place has a lot of decorations, of knick-knacks, but it doesn’t feel too full, it feels homey and cosy, it’s a lived-in place. His kitchen is very spacious, especially for just one person, but he enjoys cooking in it and loves it. His bedroom is his place of solace, and the bathroom is simple but elegant. But the garage is his place of most joy. He has a space set to practice Muay Thai and another place to work on cars.
After taking a shower and changing into something more comfortable, Tommy makes his way to his kitchen and starts to prepare some dinner.
Water heating up for the pasta, salsa cooking in the pan, and a bottle of beer in hand, Tommy opens up Grindr. He hasn’t deleted the app even though it’s been a long while since he has used it. He has never had much luck with it, but after thinking about that man and the voicemail, he just feels lonely and he needs something.
After scrolling through some profiles, he messages one of a guy with a profile picture of him smiling on the beach with a dog. Tommy simply texts a ‘Hello’, and moves on to check some other profiles, but he soon ends up leaving his phone aside to put the pasta in the boiling water and to mix the salsa.
—
Tommy distractedly puts his almost empty beer bottle next to his empty plate on the coffee plate and continues to watch the documentary about the Japanese myth of the red thread of fate. He wipes the tears that he had shed while watching the documentary, feeling glad that he is alone so that no one can see him like this. But then again, he also wishes that someone was there with him, sharing the food, cuddling up to him while watching the documentary, and possibly even teasing him for being such a romantic.
He sighs just as his phone vibrates on the coffee table. He absent-mindedly grabs it and notices that it’s a notification of a message from Grindr. He sees that it’s from ‘Alex’, the one with the picture by the beach, so he opens it.
‘No time for hellos. Let’s cut to the chase. Wanna hook up?’
Feeling disappointed but not surprised, Tommy backs out of the message and decides to delete the app completely. He is tired of hook-ups and one-night stands, he wants the real thing. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore, he wants someone who loves him and someone who he can love. He is not sure why he even sent the message, he has never had any luck with the app, and it’s always the same story, nothing comes out of it.
Tommy releases a breath and looks back at his phone, which now has one less app. He haphazardly throws it on the table and turns to the TV once more. However, after only a couple of seconds, he looks at it again and contemplates it. He tries to resist but soon he gives up, presses pause on the documentary, grabs the phone and goes to his missed calls.
He looks at the number from today, the landline, the call that has been in his head all day. For the first time, he realizes that the number sounds somewhat familiar but he figures that it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. He debates with himself for a while, but then finally says to himself, ‘What the hell?’ , and presses call.
The phone rings and rings and rings. He has just decided to give up, lowering the phone from his ear, when he hears a soft voice, though the phone is too far from him to understand what they said. He quickly fidgets with his phone and brings it back to his ear and mouth. And hears that same lovely voice from the voicemail, saying, “Hello? Do you have an emergency?”
Tommy stays quiet for a couple of seconds, he somehow can't believe that he actually called and that the same person answered. Realizing that the other person will probably hang up if he doesn’t speak, he forces himself to say something, anything.
“Hi, hi. Sorry, yes. Look, you don’t know me but… Well, I’m calling you because I got your message,” Tommy says, and then keeps quiet, waiting to see if the person will say something.
Hearing nothing from the other side, he continues, “The one about the doughnuts?”
The other person makes an acknowledging noise but doesn’t really say anything, so Tommy, getting anxious, keeps talking, “At first, I wasn’t sure if I should call you because you sounded furious, but after everything you said, I think it’s important for you to know that, well, you called the wrong number.”
Silence.
Tommy waits, holding his breath.
Finally, after a few long seconds, he hears what sounds like the person saying “ For fuck's sake ” but he’s not 100% sure since it was more of a mutter.
“I’m so sorry, oh god, I’m so embarrassed”, the person chuckles.
“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. I guess it could happen to anyone?” Tommy ends up replying. He has this urgent need to comfort him and make him feel better.
Snorting and then chuckling, the voice continues, “I doubt that very much, but thank you for trying to reassure me. This is just typical of me… I’ve bucked it up.”
Tommy can hear the self-deprecation, and his heart hurts for this person. However, he also needs clarification.
“Bucked it up?”
“Oh, right. Sorry, again. It’s just something that my team says when I screw something up because, well, I’m Buck.”
“Buck? I’m assuming that’s a nickname…”
“Yes, it’s a nickname. My name is actually Evan but there were three other Evans in the academy, so, yes, Buck. Because of Buckley, my last name. I’m Evan Buckley.”
Tommy smiles at Evan’s rambling and then says, “Well, nice to meet you, Evan. I’m Tommy.”
He decides to go for Evan instead of Buck since Evan did repeat his name twice, and also because he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that people close to him use his nickname to describe when he does something bad.
“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” Evan replies softly.
Wanting to keep talking with Evan, but knowing that it’s not a good idea, and things will probably get awkward pretty soon, Tommy tells him, “Well, Evan, this relationship didn’t work out, but I'm sure there will be others. I wish you good luck.”
Tommy slowly lowers his phone, intending to hang up and end the conversation there, but he hears Evan’s voice saying something about ‘shit’.
“Sorry, did you say something?” Tommy asks.
“No, sorry, sorry. It’s just that I feel like I need way more than good luck!” Evan says sounding frustrated and tired. “I keep trying, I swear that I give my all, but still it never works out.”
“I feel you, man! Trust me! I feel like I’ve been looking for something real all my life and I have yet to find it.” Tommy confesses, surprising himself by being so honest with someone he doesn’t know.
Evan hums in agreement and then adds, “It’s difficult out there. I mean, pretty much all the people I hook up with, don’t want to commit themselves to a relationship, are already in an open relationship, or are cheating on their partners. And I don’t want any of that.”
“I guess we are both hoping to find true love,” Tommy replies, sounding wistful even to his own ears.
“Well, actually, someone very wise and deeply in love with the life of his life told me that you don’t find it, you make it. That is why I always try to make it work no matter what. I guess I’m just hopeful that for once it will work out like that.”
Smiling, Tommy asks one of the questions that he was more intrigued about since he heard that voicemail, “So, you’re a romantic. Aren’t you?”
“No, no, I just want to be happy,” Evan replies, stuttering a little bit at the beginning of his sentence. “Or, well, yes, I admit I’m a romantic at heart.”
Tommy laughs softly, feeling a deep connection with Evan. He looks up at his TV and sees that the documentary has ended, and the credits are rolling. Turning into a more comfortable position on his sofa, he asks, “Have you ever heard about the red thread of fate?”
After Evan says that he doesn’t think so, Tommy continues, “Well, it’s a Japanese myth that says that an invisible red thread binds people who are destined to be together. It says that we all have one thread hanging from our pinkie and that it can never be broken or…”
Evan interrupts him before he can continue, “But, wait, how do you know it’s red?”
“What?” Tommy asks, confused.
“If it’s invisible, how can anyone know that it’s red?” Evan asks, laughing a bit.
Tommy has no idea how Evan looks but he can’t help but picture him with his head on his side in question, like a confused puppy.
“Ok, well, I don’t know. But it’s a myth, you don’t have to take it that seriously.”
“But you believe it,” Evan tells him, teasingly.
“Fine, I admit it, yes, I believe in it,” Tommy says, begrudgingly, while listening to Evan laughing softly.
Tommy is not mad at the laughter, he is actually enjoying their banter quite a lot, and he quite likes the fact that he is making Evan laugh.
“I just think it’s a beautiful metaphor,” Tommy continues, his voice going serious and dreamy. “Knowing that there is someone out there, a stranger, who is going to be the most important person in my life, gives me hope for the future. It makes me feel less alone.”
“I think you’re the one that is the romantic in this conversation,” Evan teases, but his voice has gone softer.
“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?” Tommy has always thought that the myth was precious. His grandparents always said that they were soulmates, meant to be. And Tommy has been dreaming of finding that one person all his life.
Evan doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, but then he says, “It’s kind of like believing in fate, that everything has a reason, and everything is connected somehow.”
“And you don’t believe in that?”
Evan sighs and says, “Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. In my line of work, I think it’s easy to question things. Sometimes you see things that leave you wondering how could something like this or that happen. What reason could there be? And sometimes things work out so perfectly, that you just believe in destiny.”
Tommy is surprised by Evan’s insight. He completely understands what he is saying, which leaves him wondering… “What is your job?”
“I’m a firefighter. Didn’t you hear when I picked up the phone?”
“I was kind of freaking out about calling you back that I didn’t pay attention,” Tommy says absent-mindedly, shocked about the revelation.
“You had no reason to be freaked out! If anything, I’m the one that should be freaked out,” Evan laughs.
Tommy shakes his head, and still trying to wrap his mind about it, asks, “You are a firefighter?”
“Yes, I am. Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because I’m a firefighter as well, that’s why,” Tommy chuckles.
“No way!”
“I swear! I work at Harbor now, where are you stationed?”
“This is insane! I’m at the 118, the best house of all,” Evan says proudly.
Tommy opens his eyes wide in surprise, and a small smile appears on his lips, “You have to be kidding me… I used to work there! But then I got transferred to the 217 and then I joined Harbor.”
After a couple of seconds of total silence, so much so that Tommy almost checked if the call was still connected, Evan finally says, “Is this a joke? Is this a prank? Did Chimney put you up to this?”
“Chimney? Who is Chimn… oh, right, Howie goes by that now,” Tommy replies. “I understand thinking this is a joke, trust me, I kind of can’t believe it myself, but this is not a prank. I used to work there, with Hen and Howie, and Bobby Nash, who was our new captain.”
“Wow, this is so crazy!” Evan says amazed. “Wait, oh my god! You transferred and I joined the 118! You’re sort of the reason I work here.”
In disbelief by the turns of events, Tommy looks down at his left hand, specifically his left pinky, and softly mutters, “It’s fate.”
“What?” Evan asks.
“It’s just that, what are the odds? It almost feels like we were supposed to meet somehow, our paths were supposed to cross but for some reason, it hadn’t happened yet. I mean, despite our jobs, the mutual friends, we hadn’t met until right this moment,” Tommy says, feeling way too many things at the same time, and his romantic side going crazy in excitement.
“Until I had an accident three days ago that left me with a broken phone and on light duty, so bored out of my mind, I made the call from the station phone and I relied on my memory to get the phone number right,” Evan continues Tommy's train of thought. “Until I accidentally dialled the wrong number and ended up calling you and leaving a long message.”
“Until I decided to call back to let you know that you got the wrong number, even though I spent my last shift convincing myself that I shouldn’t call.”
They both stay quiet for a while, listening to the other’s breath and thinking about the crazy situation.
Feeling full of hope and with butterflies in his stomach, Tommy breathes deeply, getting ready to ask Evan out, not caring about what he might look like, but Evan beats him to the punch.
“Would you like to meet up?”
Tommy smiles, one of his big smiles, the one that Lucy always jokes makes people blind, and replies, “I would love to meet up. Tomorrow night?”
Sounding as if he is also smiling, Evan says, “It’s a date.”
“It’s fate,” Tommy corrects, laughing.