"The gallery loved the pictures," said Donna. She just got back to Haven House and had to tell me. "He wishes he had more."

He wished he had more of my artwork. Mine. I still couldn't believe all of this success.

Deciding to celebrate, we drove up in the hills to have a sunset dinner and a night on the town.

We had a fabulous meal and while we waited for the chocolate-orange soufflÚ to arrive, we tried to think of somewhere to go.

That was where the problem started.

Everywhere we thought of was an old hang out before Haven House.

In fact, we went through the soufflÚ and coffee before we decided to go out dancing.

We drove to the hot spot for the straight crowd and went in.

Boring.

It was like walking into a time warp. All the clothes these people were wearing had long since seen been donated to thrift stores. The guys with their goatees, tight jeans, t-shirts, and black combat boots. And they were straight! It's funny how the same guys who used to roll down their car windows and call me faggot were now dressing like me. Leave it to gay people to always be ahead of the fashion curve.

And don't get me started on the dancing.

I danced to what they were calling the "latest thing" about a year ago. I swore I saw some drunk frat-boys voguing.

Donna and I left, driving down Santa Monica Boulevard.

We sat waiting for the light to change when I saw her.

It was Fran. She was walking into some local restaurant. I wanted to wave at her and see if she wanted to join Donna and me but then I remembered. I couldn't see any gay friends. My finger was on the electric window switch when I saw Steve walking up.

I lowered my head and looked the other direction, praying they hadn't seen me.

The arrow turned green and we made our way to a little jazz club Donna knew in Westwood from her UCLA days.

The place was as dark and moody as the music.

We sat in a corner booth and listened to a quintet play all the standards.

During "I'll Know," Donna took my hand, leaned over and whispered in my ear.

I couldn't hear her.

She said it louder.

"I want to make love with you."