“The slides: Nico in running shorts, a number pinned to his chest. Nico and Terrence leaning against a tree, both giving the finger. Nico in profile with his orange scarf and black coat, a cigarette between his lips. Suddenly, there was Yale himself, tucked in the crook of Charlie’s arm, Nico on the other side. […] The last time Yale saw Nico, he’d been unconscious with foam—some kind of awful white foam—oozing suddenly from his mouth and nostrils. Terrence had screamed in the hallway for the nurses, had run into a cleaning cart and hurt his knee, and the fucking nurses were more concerned about whether or not Terrence had shed blood than about what was happening to Nico. And here on the slide was Nico’s full, beautiful face, and it was all too much.” 

As Richard shows slides featuring photos of Nico’s life when he was healthy and happy, Yale is haunted by his contrastive memories of moments toward the end of Nico’s life. More precisely, he reflects on the unjust neglect and prejudicial treatment of both the medical establishment and Nico’s own parents: People who saw Nico as a dangerous, diseased threat rather than a human being who led a vibrant life. It’s particularly telling that the nurses were more afraid of possible spilled blood than Nico. This passage encapsulates the widespread fear, paranoia, and ignorance surrounding the virus (and the corresponding fear-based treatment of people sick with the virus). 

“Yale could memorize the real estate agent’s number […] And then this wouldn’t just be the night they didn’t go to Nico’s funeral, the night Yale felt so horrifically alone; it would be the night he found their house.” 

On Yale’s lonely walk home from Nico’s life celebration, he admires a house in his neighborhood. He longs to purchase the house with his partner, Charlie, so he can create a home: A safe haven for their relationship and his friends. He convinces himself that a “home” could transform his feelings of abandonment, because the image of “home” is so closely tied to family, friends, and safety. The precise resonance of this fantasy changes along with Yale’s life and relationships: When he breaks up with Charlie and finds himself homeless, as he moves between friends apartments, and as his friends die (or become fatally ill).