Jen. Ty. Phone. More rejection. More persistence. Jen relents. Ty should pick her up at ten. No one cares.
Back at the Icehouse, Jack swoops down unexpectedly and takes a bag of cleaning supplies from Joey, who says nothing to him. Bessie comments that he's been "quiet as a churchmouse" since last night, and that he "looks like he lost his best friend," and asks Joey what happened. Joey tells her she doesn't want to know. Bessie tells Joey she should go talk to him. Joey asks how you talk to someone about something he has made very clear he doesn't want to talk about. Bessie says she usually leads off with, "Long day, huh?" since that opens the conversation up, then asks Joey to lock up, and leaves. At that moment Jack comes back out (heh) from the kitchen. Joey visibly steels herself to say something, and then dutifully pronounces, "Long day, huh?" Jack is having none of it, and curtly says, "You wanna ask me something, I suggest you just ask it." Joey says, "Look, I'm sorry, Jack. People are already saying things." Jack says, "Since when do you care what people are saying? It's not like you." Joey says, "Well, maybe it's because you still haven't offered me any kind of explanation for what you wrote." Jack says, "I don't have to." Joey says, "You're right. You don't. It's just, um, you know, being the one that you are dating [sic], it would be nice to know if there was a particular reason why you did write a poem about a guy -- I mean, a poem that obviously has some degree of importance in your life, considering it did make you cry in front of a room full of people." Jack gets in his kayak and starts paddling up DeNial: "All right, look. I sat down last night before I went to bed. For half an hour, I wrote what I was feeling. And one of the images that came into my head -- it was masculine. Nothing sexual about it. It could have been me, it could have been the image of my brother -- I don't know, Joey. But I do know there was nothing gay about that poem." Across North America, viewers cackle gleefully. Joey nods vigorously. Jack continues, "And as for the crying -- I don't know. It hit a weird nerve when I started reading it -- unleashed some of the stuff I've been dealing with in my family, my brother's death. That's the only explanation that I have, and if it's not good enough for you, then you can just believe what everybody else is saying." He turns away, and Joey steps back in front of him: "Look, Jack. I don't believe them." Jack says, "I hope not, because I adore you, Joey, and I assure you, if I was ever to write a love poem, it would be about you -- nobody else." They hug, as Joey is momentarily reassured.