The Brantius family arrived in Scotland several generations ago as mere peasants. Through several strokes of luck and a long list of merciless heads of house they now unofficially ran a small town twenty miles south-east of Glasgow. Head of present day family was Albert Brantius. He was to say the least a brutal drunk but never did he miss a thing when it came to business. Ruling with an iron fist served his business well, but bruised his family in more than one sense. Albert’s stature was as intimidating as the house and fortune he possessed. He stood a good six foot four, similar height to his son Eric, slight heavy build with a mop of hair and beard so orange that he would make the perfect Scottish stereotype.
Most days would end with Albert speeding home from where he ran his empire (as he would have it deemed) in his four by four Land Rover, up his steep drive way to the town’s old library, now his humble mansion. The town’s most prestigious figures never dared question Albert’s acquisition of the Library as he built one twice the size and twice as elegant within months of having his family and belongings settled in their new place of residence. Once in his mansion Albert would do his rounds. Firstly he would be to check upon his wife, Cheryl, bed ridden with dementia but only one with a fortune such as a Brantius’ could afford medication to give her any good quality of life. Being bed ridden may not seem like good ‘quality’ living to most people but the family agreed mother being a little sleepy rather than suffering the awful effects of dementia would be best for all. Next stop would be to check upon his son who had chosen a life Albert frowned upon: Artist. ‘This world doesn’t revolve around paint and paper, it revolves around labour!’ A quote that Eric would mouth as he heard his father’s expensive Italian shoes clip-clop down the hall way to his room, the smallest room in the house.
Smiling at his latest piece of work Eric laughed at how his dad preaches about hard labour yet he strolls about without a speckle of mud upon his attire. As predicted Albert entered Eric’s room just as his inner monologue had ceased. Never would he turn to face his father as the door would creak open.
“No girlfriend around to be your muse boy?”
“No father. She’s still at work. She will be over later.”“Marvellous, I do enjoy her witty banter. You’d do good to hold onto her Eric. A welcomed addition to the Brantius family she’d be.”
Applying a soft brush stroke to his painting Eric nodded. Albert left as he did every conversation with Eric; shaking his head.
Rosemary wouldn’t display as much grandeur as her brother would upon hearing her father’s footsteps near. No, Rosemary would instead grab her duvet and upon her father’s entrance, she knew he’d see a cocoon like imagine aloft his daughters bed. Albert wouldn’t mind this display as he knew he had the power to peel that cocoon from Rosemary’s grasp. He would simply smile and part with a comment that would tighten Rosemary in the most delicate of places.
The grandfather clock that stood facing the entrance of the Brantius mansion began to chime as the second hand graced its first stop into the twenty second hour of the day. As the chimes rang out throughout the Brantius Mansion only Eric would tend to his mothers request for help.
He never wondered too much in regards to his sister and fathers late night absences from his mother’s bedside. He could envision his sister being glued to her computer and his father slumped in his study, soft light shining through his bottle of whiskey as he reminisced over another strenuous day of work.
Never bothering about his family’s selfishness would however irritate one person in particular; Eric’s girlfriend, Kirstin. Kirstin was becoming increasingly hostile towards all in Eric’s family. She would be left behind in Eric’s room whenever his mother’s bell rang out. She knew it would be a hypocrite who would highlight her woes and to drag a son from an ailing mother... On the other hand she had suspicions about Mrs Brantius. She had caught her acting far from demented on more than one occasion. Who would Eric believe though? Not likely she, no son would give an outsiders suspicions life over his mothers physical state. Watching her lover march down the hallway night after night to attend to his would be ill mother drove her crazy.
An hour passed and still Kirsten was left curled up in Eric’s bed. Thoughts of ending this facade began to dance through her mind. Over and over they would churn until she could no longer bat them away. She slid out from Eric’s solid pine bed and followed his footsteps to Cheryl’s room.
As the beam of light that escaped Cheryl’s room rose up the body of Kirsten, she stood still, only with her eyes moving to see if there was anyone nearby. Nothing but faint echoes from Albert’s study filled the darkness and with that Kirsten entered the room.
Never having been in their room Kirsten for a few moments paused in awe of its beautifully horrific contents. As if on a safari of the dead she browsed several plaques with animal’s heads all glaring at her. By the time her viewing of said items came to a halt she found herself admiring two exquisitely crafted marble cabinets on either side of where she stood. The only culture she could think to place such furniture in was Greek. Straight ahead from where she stood lay Cheryl, lying on her bed as if waiting a fitting for a coffin; no body parts loose, hands on chest, eyes shut and head sat perfectly aloft the one and only pillow on the bed. Kirsten strode forward, her socks silencing every movement with exception to one of her joints clicking as she came up next to Cheryl.
Cheryl’s eyes shot open with a speed and alertness that Kirsten’s rage for her needed no introduction. “You cannot fool us all Mrs Brantius.”Cheryl quickly adjusted her eyes and softened her face. “Did you get my coffee?”Kirsten felt no urge to humour the old woman so abandoned her manners.
“Drop this act Cheryl. You’re fooling no one but yourself.”
“I knew a fool once, boy he sure could make me laugh.”
“I’ve seen you act perfectly healthy Cheryl! You might have great medication but it’s no miracle cure!”
“Medication, I’d like some of my medication please.”
Kirsten could feel her hands grabbing onto the hair that cupped her ears, screams erupting deep within. She lunged forward and tore the large pillow from under Cheryl’s head.
“Do you need a pillow sweetheart, have mines.”
“You can have it back Mrs Brantius.” Kirsten then thrust the pillow upon Cheryl’s face and pressed either side of her head as if she were trying to compress an overloaded suitcase. Muffled cries escaped the cavities the pillow made once around Cheryl’s head. The louder they got the more Kirsten applied pressure until she heard the bedroom door creak. Immediately she halted and turned towards the door. As she looked on towards the door she was convinced that nothing was lingering out with the room she turned back to Cheryl who she could hear pleading beneath her feathered prison. “Ok! Ok!”Kirsten’s urge to kill still swam strong within her mind but she knew a confession would help the guilt, so very much. She removed the pillow and made herself tall before the exasperated woman. Another creak came from the door but Cheryl’s hand was around Kirsten’s wrist before she could make off. As Kirsten turned back to Cheryl, Rosemary leant off the wall and laid her sights on what was taking place inside the room.
Not long passed before Rosemary’s breathing began to speed up. She had finally heard the words from her mother’s mouth that softened the assumption that she was as evil as her molesting father.
“I’m sorry Rose, I’m sorry for everything...”
Rosemary knew then that her mother knew she was responsible for the door creaking, she also knew that medication or not this was her mother’s only retribution for what she’d allowed her only daughter to experience. She left the door’s side and charged down the hall to the bathroom.
As the water came careering out both taps Rosemary knew all too well if she let it flood, the water that escaped and struck the yet to be tiled bathroom floor would alert her father in the study below.
Within moments she could hear his hefty footsteps charged up the stairs and towards the bathroom. This time she didn’t turn from him as he entered the room, on the contrary, Albert was the one who felt things tightened as he opened the door to see his daughter naked in a pool of red.
“Rosie! Sweetheart! Please, not you Rosie, not you!”
As Rosemary lay across her father’s arms that just scooped her from the bath she whispered into his ear “I’m finally clean of you.”
Albert then with widened eyes pulled the plug from between Rosemary’s leg and propped her up before running off to phone an ambulance from his bedroom. For the first time in years Rosemary smiled as her father parted ways with her.
Battering his bedroom door open Albert momentarily forgot why he was where he was. Kirsten spun round leaving Cheryl mortally still on her bed.
For a second Kirsten opened her mouth to plead innocence but quickly halted herself when the images that Cheryl’s confession painted came back to haunt her. “Paedophile!”
Albert’s look of horror quickly changed. “What are you speaking about you stupid girl?”“You know fine well, just as poor Rosemary does.”
“Rosemary...” Albert said gently. “Rosemary!” He charged forward to grab the bedside phone, tossing Kirsten aside as he would an empty bottle of whiskey.
As his chubby index finger made for its third descent upon the number nine a scream pierced his ears and drew his attention from the phone. Twisting his neck round to see what merited the screams; Albert Brantius got to witness his brutish nature first hand. The force in which he’d thrown Kirsten aside had been so great that as she’d made contact with the wine cellar door she’d broke its fixture and was now all but consumed by the darkness that swam beyond the first few steps. Albert would make an attempt to grab Kirsten’s hand but he knew the reach he exerted was never that of his full potential. He turned back to the phone, pressing nine for a third time.
“This is nine-nine-nine emergency, what emergency service do you require?”Albert’s mind froze. He looked at his wife, thought of his daughter and then tears began to descend upon his beard.“Hello sir/madam?”“Ambulance god damnit, I want an ambulance!”
Albert immediately slammed the phone back upon the receiver, he knew they could trace a call and he knew they wouldn’t think twice of not sending an ambulance upon his request. Holding his chest as he looked once again at Cheryl he pleaded with his mind, with the God he so adored to wake him from this nightmare. Lying a soft kiss on Cheryl’s forehead he ran back towards the bathroom but was stopped as he glanced two officers in uniform ascending his stairwell.
“Mr Brantius, can we have a moment...”
“Actually no, I don’t believe you can, officer.”“Mr Brantius It’s about your son, Eric.”Now half way between Rosemary and the police officers Albert was stopped in his tracks. With his back still to the police he responded.
“What about my boy...”“There’s been an accident Mr Brantius, Eric was hit by a car just after leaving the chemist.”“You’re mistaken officers, my son is at home. He never leaves without notifying me.”“We pried your wife’s prescription from his hand Mr Brantius.”
“Pried?”
“Yes Mr Brantius, the impact was so severe that Eric died on impact.”
Albert began walking towards the bathroom, ignoring the officers plea’s to stop. As he stopped in front of the bathroom he turned his attention back to the officers.
“Out.”
“Sir please, we know...”“You do not know anything, anything! Leave my property before I make a call to your chief.”“You need to...”
“I need to see to my family. Now leave!”
Against their better judgement the officers turned foot and left. Albert then entered the bathroom, finding Rosemary as still as his wife where upstairs. Again he cupped her in his arms and stroked her hair, coaxing a reaction but all that moved in the bathroom was the beads of water that ran down Rosemary’s drenched hair. Placing his fingers on her pale neck he prayed for even the slightest beat, it never came. Lying his daughter down in the now empty bath he did as he done with his wife and kissed her forehead. A thousand apologies graced his tongue but all that left his body was a tear that landed upon Rosemary’s lips. As he watched his tear roll off Rosemary’s lips he could hear, what he assumed to be, the paramedics clambering down the hallway. Standing quickly as not to hinder any chance they might have of resurrecting his daughter’s life, he stepped back as they entered the room. His sight never left Rosemary, even as the paramedics questioned him about the situation. Albert then collapsed onto the toilet, gripping his chest and gasping for words. The last thing he saw was Rosemary’s eyes open.
Thursday, 23 July 2009
Finding everyone, not yourself.
Finding everyone, not yourself
It had taken seven years of sporadic saving, but I had finally arrived upon the wilderness of Siberian Russia. Drunk with the scenery I heard not much of my newly acquainted Russian friends’ proposals as I unconsciously hooked my rucksack over my back. After a few polite nudges from Brasislav I was reignited with true focus and followed his lead to where we were due to spend the next fortnight.
Despite holding conversation with my friend I easily succumbed, yet again, to the intoxicating scenery. Whether I was doing so to justify leaving my girlfriend, job and family behind I wasn’t certain of but if I was acting in such a way no guilt or regret found its claws under my skin or in my mind. Emotion may have been reluctant to present itself to me, well at least in regards to my life back home. However I fear I need to confess that I am here due to life back home, well in my eyes at least. Tormented from such an early age and incapable of ever attaching myself to any art or being for more than a week seemed an impossible task for me. I knew I wasn’t empty of talent, love or dedication but whether it was picking my pen up to write and instantly feeling the need to strum my guitar, or grasping my weights and then believing I should open a book instead or more saddening having my beloved Meghan in my arms then feeling the need to be alone, I consistently battled with my troubling indecisiveness. Not only would this frustrate me to the points where I’d drink until death seemed beautiful, it would trouble those who cared for me. Each of them, both friends and family had direction, beliefs and structure and how I had grown to envy them, sometimes close to hatred on some occasions. So with scattered promises to each of those I loved I packed as little as possible and flew to Russia in pursuit of an interest that hadn’t lost its pungency since childhood.
Within days of landing in Moscow I had met Brasislav at Moscow’s city zoo. Where after spotting each another through the Perspex of the Tiger compound we seemed to draw each another in, not through some instance of love but with the love we had for the beasts behind the Perspex. Our conversations, despite the clash of dialects seemed to flow as if lost brothers. And like lost brothers I embraced him when after hours of discussion he informed me that he would take me to the far reaches of Siberia to try spot the wonderful beasts in their true environment.
Our train couldn’t reach a stop, of which there were many, without my thanking Brasislav for his generosity in bringing me along with him. He would however need to calm me on occasion and inform me the beasts where as elusive as they were beautiful; Sobering thoughts for I but never diminishable. Our train upon reaching its final terminal made an announcement that only Brasislav could understand. I of course mirrored his every move upon departure, that was until the scenery for the first time in two days remained still for me and as afore mentioned left me somewhat astounded.
I couldn’t find the patience for the time it took Brasislav’s uncle to prepare our long awaited meal. I think both he and his Uncle Vladimir knew so, so when I requested leave of their company both laughed and allowed my wanderings to begin. Not ten lunges towards the wooded area had passed when I hear Brasislav call. As i turned I noticed him holding a rifle in his hand. ‘Least you wish to fill the stomach of the beast.’ I instantly felt the fool for being so overwhelmed that I’d wish to wander into a land of such danger with nothing but my camera on my being. With a quick lesson on how to operate the arm I was soon off again, with the promise of company after lunch was had.
Hour’s had went by as had the miles and I had to depress my sense of adventure due to the demands of my stomach. The walk back brought no sense of defeat, each step I took to rejoin Brasislav and his uncle felt as liberating as the lunges I had took coming forth. I even began to hear the faint calls of my friend whilst trekking back but kept my voice mute as I knew we were but minutes apart and felt reluctant to spoil such beauty with course bellows. A twig then snapped off to my right which drew my attention from studying the footprints Id made not thirty minutes previous.
The snow that reflected from my eyes then lost its whiteness and filled with amber. I shut my eyes for which felt a year but in reality was seconds and upon reopening the tiger was no longer a possibly mirage. I brought Brasislav’s rifle to attention, but with no intent. He had told me if the impossible took place and I were to lay sight on one of the beasts that chance’s where they wouldn’t confront unless provoked. This in mind I rested the rifle by my leg, loaded but not aiming at the beast. I carefully watched the beast as it’s ear’s manoeuvred towards the direction of Brasislav and his uncle. My heart beat, loud enough to dull out my voice, rampaged inside. I was noticing his limbs slowly pull from the snow and plunge just inches ahead. I had seen this a million times on television but not a single knowledgeable word of advice found its place in my head. So I stood, as frozen as the environment around me, celebrating what my eyes portrayed but all the while paralysed with fear. The beast seemed to now dedicate an ear for the distant Brasislav, but only that as everything else seemed dedicated to me. His teeth slowly began to emerge, leaving his whiskers towering above the long amber snout. Hisses soon followed along with my presumption that keeping the gun by my leg was no longer and safe option. Lifting the gun I knew I had to rid my eyes of the what felt like a reservoir of water that accumulated from the cold winds battering my sight. However the quick blink I chose to eradicate the cold tears from my eyes was to be in vain. When I found clear sight I could see nothing but the colours of the beast that had thrown me to the ground. I tried with all my might to free myself of what felt like a giants grip but all my attempts ended with another part of my being feeling as if just hit by a bulldozer ball. All I could manage was screams but with little effort as I felt the beasts jaw tighten on my neck.
As gun fire rang out so did the beasts fangs. I could see for the split second I managed to lift my neck that the beast gave thought about finishing me off but the quicker the gun shots arrived the more agitated he seemed and as quick as we’d met, he was gone.
Russian words that I had not one piece of understanding soon filled my ears. However instead of confusing me they seemed fitting as I looked at the sky and saw more than clouds. I saw each and every face that had ever had a resounding affect on my life and realised that despite all their beauty and love that not one of them would, and I felt assured in this assumption, fathom my death out. That in mind, even as felt my life trickle across my unshaven neck, I laid not a single slice of blame on them for their would-be ignorance. It had been my decision to construct a life through the eyes of everyone but myself. Through such actions I may have forfeited my life but if I never wake again, least I know that I finally experienced life by my own accord.
It had taken seven years of sporadic saving, but I had finally arrived upon the wilderness of Siberian Russia. Drunk with the scenery I heard not much of my newly acquainted Russian friends’ proposals as I unconsciously hooked my rucksack over my back. After a few polite nudges from Brasislav I was reignited with true focus and followed his lead to where we were due to spend the next fortnight.
Despite holding conversation with my friend I easily succumbed, yet again, to the intoxicating scenery. Whether I was doing so to justify leaving my girlfriend, job and family behind I wasn’t certain of but if I was acting in such a way no guilt or regret found its claws under my skin or in my mind. Emotion may have been reluctant to present itself to me, well at least in regards to my life back home. However I fear I need to confess that I am here due to life back home, well in my eyes at least. Tormented from such an early age and incapable of ever attaching myself to any art or being for more than a week seemed an impossible task for me. I knew I wasn’t empty of talent, love or dedication but whether it was picking my pen up to write and instantly feeling the need to strum my guitar, or grasping my weights and then believing I should open a book instead or more saddening having my beloved Meghan in my arms then feeling the need to be alone, I consistently battled with my troubling indecisiveness. Not only would this frustrate me to the points where I’d drink until death seemed beautiful, it would trouble those who cared for me. Each of them, both friends and family had direction, beliefs and structure and how I had grown to envy them, sometimes close to hatred on some occasions. So with scattered promises to each of those I loved I packed as little as possible and flew to Russia in pursuit of an interest that hadn’t lost its pungency since childhood.
Within days of landing in Moscow I had met Brasislav at Moscow’s city zoo. Where after spotting each another through the Perspex of the Tiger compound we seemed to draw each another in, not through some instance of love but with the love we had for the beasts behind the Perspex. Our conversations, despite the clash of dialects seemed to flow as if lost brothers. And like lost brothers I embraced him when after hours of discussion he informed me that he would take me to the far reaches of Siberia to try spot the wonderful beasts in their true environment.
Our train couldn’t reach a stop, of which there were many, without my thanking Brasislav for his generosity in bringing me along with him. He would however need to calm me on occasion and inform me the beasts where as elusive as they were beautiful; Sobering thoughts for I but never diminishable. Our train upon reaching its final terminal made an announcement that only Brasislav could understand. I of course mirrored his every move upon departure, that was until the scenery for the first time in two days remained still for me and as afore mentioned left me somewhat astounded.
I couldn’t find the patience for the time it took Brasislav’s uncle to prepare our long awaited meal. I think both he and his Uncle Vladimir knew so, so when I requested leave of their company both laughed and allowed my wanderings to begin. Not ten lunges towards the wooded area had passed when I hear Brasislav call. As i turned I noticed him holding a rifle in his hand. ‘Least you wish to fill the stomach of the beast.’ I instantly felt the fool for being so overwhelmed that I’d wish to wander into a land of such danger with nothing but my camera on my being. With a quick lesson on how to operate the arm I was soon off again, with the promise of company after lunch was had.
Hour’s had went by as had the miles and I had to depress my sense of adventure due to the demands of my stomach. The walk back brought no sense of defeat, each step I took to rejoin Brasislav and his uncle felt as liberating as the lunges I had took coming forth. I even began to hear the faint calls of my friend whilst trekking back but kept my voice mute as I knew we were but minutes apart and felt reluctant to spoil such beauty with course bellows. A twig then snapped off to my right which drew my attention from studying the footprints Id made not thirty minutes previous.
The snow that reflected from my eyes then lost its whiteness and filled with amber. I shut my eyes for which felt a year but in reality was seconds and upon reopening the tiger was no longer a possibly mirage. I brought Brasislav’s rifle to attention, but with no intent. He had told me if the impossible took place and I were to lay sight on one of the beasts that chance’s where they wouldn’t confront unless provoked. This in mind I rested the rifle by my leg, loaded but not aiming at the beast. I carefully watched the beast as it’s ear’s manoeuvred towards the direction of Brasislav and his uncle. My heart beat, loud enough to dull out my voice, rampaged inside. I was noticing his limbs slowly pull from the snow and plunge just inches ahead. I had seen this a million times on television but not a single knowledgeable word of advice found its place in my head. So I stood, as frozen as the environment around me, celebrating what my eyes portrayed but all the while paralysed with fear. The beast seemed to now dedicate an ear for the distant Brasislav, but only that as everything else seemed dedicated to me. His teeth slowly began to emerge, leaving his whiskers towering above the long amber snout. Hisses soon followed along with my presumption that keeping the gun by my leg was no longer and safe option. Lifting the gun I knew I had to rid my eyes of the what felt like a reservoir of water that accumulated from the cold winds battering my sight. However the quick blink I chose to eradicate the cold tears from my eyes was to be in vain. When I found clear sight I could see nothing but the colours of the beast that had thrown me to the ground. I tried with all my might to free myself of what felt like a giants grip but all my attempts ended with another part of my being feeling as if just hit by a bulldozer ball. All I could manage was screams but with little effort as I felt the beasts jaw tighten on my neck.
As gun fire rang out so did the beasts fangs. I could see for the split second I managed to lift my neck that the beast gave thought about finishing me off but the quicker the gun shots arrived the more agitated he seemed and as quick as we’d met, he was gone.
Russian words that I had not one piece of understanding soon filled my ears. However instead of confusing me they seemed fitting as I looked at the sky and saw more than clouds. I saw each and every face that had ever had a resounding affect on my life and realised that despite all their beauty and love that not one of them would, and I felt assured in this assumption, fathom my death out. That in mind, even as felt my life trickle across my unshaven neck, I laid not a single slice of blame on them for their would-be ignorance. It had been my decision to construct a life through the eyes of everyone but myself. Through such actions I may have forfeited my life but if I never wake again, least I know that I finally experienced life by my own accord.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Watching Him Go
Giving up belief in religion liberated my mind on so many matters. The belief that my day to day routines and actions weren’t being noted by some omnipotent/omnipresent figure surprisingly adds some relief to life. Well for myself anyways. One outlook that seemed to take president in my new view on life was my sexual preferences. Now I say that with no intent to imply ‘oh I was in the ‘closet’ but thanks to atheism I now feel I love male genitalia not female.’ That just simply is not the case. Perhaps a childhood recollection will help clarify things.
I recall rather well a time when I left a friend’s house as a young teen and thinking ‘If you ever have thoughts like that again hang yourself.’ Now that is the mindset of a child, I say ‘child’ not sparingly as growing up amidst a homophobic/nazi sympethizer father and family riddled with religious attributes one can only describe my teen years as childish in most regards. However I shall not dive overly deep into that as I imagine anyone with enough life experience will know they are never truly adults until life is seen through your own eyes, not another’s. (That includes not only real life but movies, music, books and other art forms.) That’s not to say other people’s perceptions are wrong but how can you ever know yourself unless you see, feel and touch what another has done and simply conjured up words to shall we say, paint a picture for you?
So when it came my turn to turn my back on god as it were, life became that little bit more interesting. I was allowed to see beauty in both male and females; however one can only spend so long in the grasps of a homophobic environment before people begin to class you as one of their own. So when the night came that one of the figures, mainly my father, drove me from the house with a bottle of jack daniels; upset and bitter. It was no real shock when within the hour I was doing things with a gay friend of mines that let’s just say, would have earned me a trip to the gallows as a wayward boy.
From there on in I’d crossed that boundary. Spat in the face of religious oppression. My only gripe now was that I had begun to imagine that I wasn’t actually all that interested in the male of the species. Sure beautiful males are in abundance just as females are but knowing beauty doesn’t mean you want to sleep with beauty, does it? I never closed my mind though. It remained open as I’d shared sleep and oral sex with men and it didn’t feel wrong, nor right, but not every woman I had been with felt right.
The time approached for my parents to go their annual holiday abroad. I don’t recall what destination it was but it took them away for three weeks which suited me fine. I’d sent copious amounts of text messages round my friends, informing them of the empty house situation. Few got back to me but that worried me not all that much. My friends were odd like that; two would reply but ten would show up.
A week passed with minimal appearances by my supposed friends. The odd couple would appear not long before I’d given up hope and decided upon retiring to bed and being the sort of person I am I would consume a large black coffee and welcome them. The same routine carried on into week two of my parents being away. The routine grew old, quickly. So I found myself browsing the internet for a casual partner that would make it worth my while staying up until midnight. Sure they wouldn’t be as sincere as my friends but you can’t, well I felt I couldn’t, ask a bunch of men’s men for a cuddle or heart to heart. You could try but I could safely assume that I might earn more alone time than together time if I had.
As the end of the week approached I’d registered with some internet website in hope of finding a mature woman to spend time with. I would send tonnes of messages with no real results, all my profiling site’s again returned nothing too worthwhile pursuing. Back to late night black coffee and nostalgic ramblings with my friends I went.
Week three had arrived with much resentment on my behalf. My parents had been gone for a fortnight and all I’d managed to do was watch movies, smoke, drink coffee and self please to what may have been. Feeling sick to the bone didn’t cover how I felt. However I tried my best to see the positive side of things (there weren’t but the mind is a marvellous spin doctor).
What drove me to sign into my messenger program under my job email address was more than likely boredom. However it was to my surprise that people had been adding this address. I was receiving these invites to chat to people that were either; A. Old college acquaintances. B. Random folk who might of added me from a profiling site. I accepted them all as with the last week already bringing up the rear I’d have to act fast if I didn’t want the three weeks of bachelorhood to be a complete ruin.
I scrolled through all those who had added me and only one (imagine that...) was of particular interest to me. We shared similar interests; both rather tired and pissed off at the world, sick of model friends and felt restrained by family practises. That in mind not a lot of time passed before we decided upon meeting the next day. Quick work on my behalf? perhaps so. That’s if it had been me who initiated the rendezvous. The internet being the internet however, one can never truly call a spade a spade until one has laid eyes upon said subject. That in mind, the hours that lay in wait for our meet were somewhat strenuous upon the ol’ nerves.
I awaited his arrival in Glasgow central. His train was coming in around half past twelve. I checked my mobile to see that I was in actual fact half an hour early so made a quick exit out the east side of the station and slipped into my city haunt. Within seconds of being aloft the bar stool the girl was already pouring my Jack Daniels and Coke. I signalled her to make it a double, she nodded and left me staring at the clock. The second hand seemed to have a delay in it’s progression. I continued to stare as I noticed the bar girl in my peripherals.
“It’s a clock Cam...”
I blinked and turned to face her. “I think something is wrong with the second hand...”She didn’t bother turning her full body, just her head to face the clock. “um...Seems fine to me...”I sighed and gave over the three pounds fifty it was for my drink.
Watching the last drop run from my glass into my mouth I knew by the time it tickled my throat it would finally be time to leave but as I glanced at the clock again it was just a quarter past twelve. The bar girl approached and asked if I’d like the same again, I quickly nodded.
“No wait, no. I can’t. I have to leave now. “ with that I said my good-byes and was on my way.
I found myself back on the spot where I had prematurely arrived earlier on. Except this time round my stomach was doing double the amount of nervous summersaults. The clock had barely crept upon twenty past as I checked it again. How I loathed these moments in time. All would be over with a simple hug or peck upon the check from those you wait upon but until that moment.
Just then my phone vibrated. A text from the guy I was due to meet. He informed me that the train was on time.
I exit my inbox and open the games section, starting a game of solitaire to help distract the nerves.
“Cameron...”
There came my stomach into my mouth. I lifted my sight from the mobile phone and found myself face to face with the guy I’d spoke to for all of eight hours the previous night. Only the figure that stood before me was so much more than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine. He stood around six foot, black hair ran round the line of his jaw and no fat bulged from the tight t-shirt and loose fit jeans that he was sporting.
“Sorry I think I have the wrong person.”
My eyes settled on his now. “No you’ve got the right guy. I’m just a little taken aback at you actually being what you described online.”
“I could say the same for you...”
Men don’t blush, not in front of other men. I slapped his arm gently and proposed we head back to mines and get some gaming done.
He smiled and rather stealthily pinched my rear. I turned with wide eyes and watched as his arms rose. “I’m impulsive!” We left the train station with smiles that nerves wouldn’t dare touch.
The hour’s and the predictive awkward moments of two strangers coming together passed rather quickly once home. He never lifted his hand to me as he done in the station. Which arose some minor worries but I soon suppressed such silly thoughts.
After switching the games console off it where he, Chris, that suggested we retire to the bedroom to watch a movie. I never felt shock at the proposal, no. It was more nervousness but the nerves that would come moments before seeing your most favoured band or movie star. So with as little hesitation as possible and a collective response despite inwardly feeling giddy, I told him to go to my room and I’d pour us another whiskey. He did so, giving me a parting kiss as he fled upstairs.
I feel I must comment on how surreal this recollection is becoming, but reader, do believe me when I say you’re not alone on that assumption. I stood with the bottle of whiskey slowly watching the amber liquid dance around the walls of each glass I tilted it towards. I wasn’t the sort to sit and quiz myself...’is this really happening?!’ I knew that I was perfectly awake but I still felt justification in having some doubt as to how well proceedings were actually going. Attractive, intelligent and possessing a devilish side that leaks out whenever doubt crawls through one’s mind. My day dreaming came to an abrupt end when I heard my front door open and footsteps aplenty pile down my hallway. I mouthed ‘No...not tonight...’ but it was tonight. Tonight was, as I had stupidly forgotten ‘Big Fight Night’ My friends always came to mine’s for such occasions as my parents had every channel except adult ones. I rested both hands on the kitchen work top and downed my head, gazing at the moon’s light that danced across the cold tiles. The bellows of already half drunken men travelled into the dining room, all sorts of greetings and jesting insults rung out. I took a deep breath and turned to face them as they came in arms raised.
After a few sluggish embraces I excused myself and went for my room. I could hear some hurried actions taking place behind the door so I softly chapped before entering. It was my own room, sure, but the poor guy’s probably went from being half nude with a DVD in hand to being fully clothed, heart in hand.
“Stay there!” He shouted. “I’ve read about this stuff; Luring a gay man into a situation where he’s only going to leave in an ambulance or boot of a car!”
“Don’t be so silly Chris. After the night we’ve spent together you’d automatically assume such a macabre ending to the evening? They’ve just came over to see the fight, I forgot all about it being on tonight.”“Well don’t let me get in the way.”
He charged past me, not listening to my plea’s.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs my friends began to pour from the living room. Even they made an attempt to talk to him but he slid through them as if they didn’t exist.
“Chris come on...you’re over reacting.”“You think? What about all the things we discussed last night. Do they match up with how things are currently?”
“I forgot about the fight. They always come over for the fight.”
All the while my friends stood, happy to watch.
“Yea I must have forgotten the part where they ‘only come to visit when it suits them.’
Now one of my friends did pipe up. “What’s this faggoty looking bitch saying Cameron?”
Chris held his hands out. “Need I say more Cameron?” The way he said my name felt like someone had just rammed a knife in my back. The only problem was, It wasn’t me who must of felt like there was a knife lodged in my back. He turned, hauled the door open.
“Enjoy your night, lads!” I jumped slightly as the door slammed.
“The fuck was that?”
I would of replied to whatever friend it was that asked the question but all I could concentrate on was Chris’ footsteps as they faded out along the stone ridden drive way.
“Would you like us to leave you alone?”
I knew who the voice was now. It was my best friend, my friend of twenty-three years. I rested the DVD that Chris had dropped on the banister and trudged down the stairs. “Nah, it’s fine. Stay, I need you guy’s to stay.”
“No worries matey.” Neil began. “What was this shit about us only visiting when it suited us?”Surprisingly I didn’t hesitate when giving my reply. “He’s just bitter, boyfriend dumped him due to similar circumstances. Came round here to chill out but I think he assumed the worst when he heard you guy’s arrive.”Ryan then spoke. “Ah, typical queer; everything has to be a drama.”
I grimaced and lead the way back into the living room.
“Don’t worry mate, we’ve got plenty drugs and drink to help you forget that fag.”
“Yea...”
I slid into the recliner and switched the TV as everyone else found their place to sit. After finding the channel I found something else to watch that seemed way more enlightening than men punching the living shit out of each another.
Each one of my ‘friends’ had already helped themselves to food, drink and lay with their feet, still hugged by dirty shoes, upon my mother’s living room furniture. They were right about one thing. I would need drugs to help suppress the fact that the stranger who’s now en route home has more manners than the friends I chose over him. I exited the living room, leaving behind a few enquiries as to where I was off to, slipped my hoody on and quietly crept out the front door. I never stopped running until I found myself within sight of the bus stop that Chris stood at.
I watched his head move slightly to the side, had he heard my quick steps draw to a halt? If he had to made no effort to properly investigate as the headlights of the bus stained the road he stood aside and out went his arm to signal it to pull over. I opened my mouth in protest but remained mute. The bus came to a standstill, the door threw open and the light poured an almost angelic glow around Chris as he boarded. I heard his change rattle into the money device, but not his voice.
“Chris...” I found my voice, and my feet found movement. The doors rattled shut and the driver went into gear. I watched Chris walk towards the back of the bus, mobile in hand, watched him sit, head remaining focused on the front of the bus. My pocket then vibrated.
The text read. “Not nice being left in the dark is it?”
I hadn’t felt my eye’s well up, or felt the tear slide the length of my nose. Only did I notice it when it splashed across the screen of my phone. I pressed ‘reply’ and began.
“I didn’t mean...” No, that wouldn’t do. “Hi Chris, I’m sorry I really didn’t...”
A sudden screech echoed through the maze of streets that I stood centre of. I flipped my phone back over and into my pocket and jogged the few feet between me and the bus stop. Glancing to my right I saw nothing bus amber stained road and pavement. To my left, I saw the same, but with Chris charging in and out of each lights reach. Similar to the buttock pinch in central my eyes widened.
“Don’t think, just run!” He shouted. And in a freakish change of emotion I was now a ten year old running from some angry parent.
We came to a halt under a tree arch. I quizzed him about what had just taken place.
Catching his breath as well as still laughing he replied. “I’m impulsive, it has it’s downsides as well as it’s upsides.”
I smiled and grabbed his hand. “Let’s head back and put that DVD on.”
“Won’t your friends...”
“They will have their chance to prove they are more than residence hunters.”
I recall rather well a time when I left a friend’s house as a young teen and thinking ‘If you ever have thoughts like that again hang yourself.’ Now that is the mindset of a child, I say ‘child’ not sparingly as growing up amidst a homophobic/nazi sympethizer father and family riddled with religious attributes one can only describe my teen years as childish in most regards. However I shall not dive overly deep into that as I imagine anyone with enough life experience will know they are never truly adults until life is seen through your own eyes, not another’s. (That includes not only real life but movies, music, books and other art forms.) That’s not to say other people’s perceptions are wrong but how can you ever know yourself unless you see, feel and touch what another has done and simply conjured up words to shall we say, paint a picture for you?
So when it came my turn to turn my back on god as it were, life became that little bit more interesting. I was allowed to see beauty in both male and females; however one can only spend so long in the grasps of a homophobic environment before people begin to class you as one of their own. So when the night came that one of the figures, mainly my father, drove me from the house with a bottle of jack daniels; upset and bitter. It was no real shock when within the hour I was doing things with a gay friend of mines that let’s just say, would have earned me a trip to the gallows as a wayward boy.
From there on in I’d crossed that boundary. Spat in the face of religious oppression. My only gripe now was that I had begun to imagine that I wasn’t actually all that interested in the male of the species. Sure beautiful males are in abundance just as females are but knowing beauty doesn’t mean you want to sleep with beauty, does it? I never closed my mind though. It remained open as I’d shared sleep and oral sex with men and it didn’t feel wrong, nor right, but not every woman I had been with felt right.
The time approached for my parents to go their annual holiday abroad. I don’t recall what destination it was but it took them away for three weeks which suited me fine. I’d sent copious amounts of text messages round my friends, informing them of the empty house situation. Few got back to me but that worried me not all that much. My friends were odd like that; two would reply but ten would show up.
A week passed with minimal appearances by my supposed friends. The odd couple would appear not long before I’d given up hope and decided upon retiring to bed and being the sort of person I am I would consume a large black coffee and welcome them. The same routine carried on into week two of my parents being away. The routine grew old, quickly. So I found myself browsing the internet for a casual partner that would make it worth my while staying up until midnight. Sure they wouldn’t be as sincere as my friends but you can’t, well I felt I couldn’t, ask a bunch of men’s men for a cuddle or heart to heart. You could try but I could safely assume that I might earn more alone time than together time if I had.
As the end of the week approached I’d registered with some internet website in hope of finding a mature woman to spend time with. I would send tonnes of messages with no real results, all my profiling site’s again returned nothing too worthwhile pursuing. Back to late night black coffee and nostalgic ramblings with my friends I went.
Week three had arrived with much resentment on my behalf. My parents had been gone for a fortnight and all I’d managed to do was watch movies, smoke, drink coffee and self please to what may have been. Feeling sick to the bone didn’t cover how I felt. However I tried my best to see the positive side of things (there weren’t but the mind is a marvellous spin doctor).
What drove me to sign into my messenger program under my job email address was more than likely boredom. However it was to my surprise that people had been adding this address. I was receiving these invites to chat to people that were either; A. Old college acquaintances. B. Random folk who might of added me from a profiling site. I accepted them all as with the last week already bringing up the rear I’d have to act fast if I didn’t want the three weeks of bachelorhood to be a complete ruin.
I scrolled through all those who had added me and only one (imagine that...) was of particular interest to me. We shared similar interests; both rather tired and pissed off at the world, sick of model friends and felt restrained by family practises. That in mind not a lot of time passed before we decided upon meeting the next day. Quick work on my behalf? perhaps so. That’s if it had been me who initiated the rendezvous. The internet being the internet however, one can never truly call a spade a spade until one has laid eyes upon said subject. That in mind, the hours that lay in wait for our meet were somewhat strenuous upon the ol’ nerves.
I awaited his arrival in Glasgow central. His train was coming in around half past twelve. I checked my mobile to see that I was in actual fact half an hour early so made a quick exit out the east side of the station and slipped into my city haunt. Within seconds of being aloft the bar stool the girl was already pouring my Jack Daniels and Coke. I signalled her to make it a double, she nodded and left me staring at the clock. The second hand seemed to have a delay in it’s progression. I continued to stare as I noticed the bar girl in my peripherals.
“It’s a clock Cam...”
I blinked and turned to face her. “I think something is wrong with the second hand...”She didn’t bother turning her full body, just her head to face the clock. “um...Seems fine to me...”I sighed and gave over the three pounds fifty it was for my drink.
Watching the last drop run from my glass into my mouth I knew by the time it tickled my throat it would finally be time to leave but as I glanced at the clock again it was just a quarter past twelve. The bar girl approached and asked if I’d like the same again, I quickly nodded.
“No wait, no. I can’t. I have to leave now. “ with that I said my good-byes and was on my way.
I found myself back on the spot where I had prematurely arrived earlier on. Except this time round my stomach was doing double the amount of nervous summersaults. The clock had barely crept upon twenty past as I checked it again. How I loathed these moments in time. All would be over with a simple hug or peck upon the check from those you wait upon but until that moment.
Just then my phone vibrated. A text from the guy I was due to meet. He informed me that the train was on time.
I exit my inbox and open the games section, starting a game of solitaire to help distract the nerves.
“Cameron...”
There came my stomach into my mouth. I lifted my sight from the mobile phone and found myself face to face with the guy I’d spoke to for all of eight hours the previous night. Only the figure that stood before me was so much more than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine. He stood around six foot, black hair ran round the line of his jaw and no fat bulged from the tight t-shirt and loose fit jeans that he was sporting.
“Sorry I think I have the wrong person.”
My eyes settled on his now. “No you’ve got the right guy. I’m just a little taken aback at you actually being what you described online.”
“I could say the same for you...”
Men don’t blush, not in front of other men. I slapped his arm gently and proposed we head back to mines and get some gaming done.
He smiled and rather stealthily pinched my rear. I turned with wide eyes and watched as his arms rose. “I’m impulsive!” We left the train station with smiles that nerves wouldn’t dare touch.
The hour’s and the predictive awkward moments of two strangers coming together passed rather quickly once home. He never lifted his hand to me as he done in the station. Which arose some minor worries but I soon suppressed such silly thoughts.
After switching the games console off it where he, Chris, that suggested we retire to the bedroom to watch a movie. I never felt shock at the proposal, no. It was more nervousness but the nerves that would come moments before seeing your most favoured band or movie star. So with as little hesitation as possible and a collective response despite inwardly feeling giddy, I told him to go to my room and I’d pour us another whiskey. He did so, giving me a parting kiss as he fled upstairs.
I feel I must comment on how surreal this recollection is becoming, but reader, do believe me when I say you’re not alone on that assumption. I stood with the bottle of whiskey slowly watching the amber liquid dance around the walls of each glass I tilted it towards. I wasn’t the sort to sit and quiz myself...’is this really happening?!’ I knew that I was perfectly awake but I still felt justification in having some doubt as to how well proceedings were actually going. Attractive, intelligent and possessing a devilish side that leaks out whenever doubt crawls through one’s mind. My day dreaming came to an abrupt end when I heard my front door open and footsteps aplenty pile down my hallway. I mouthed ‘No...not tonight...’ but it was tonight. Tonight was, as I had stupidly forgotten ‘Big Fight Night’ My friends always came to mine’s for such occasions as my parents had every channel except adult ones. I rested both hands on the kitchen work top and downed my head, gazing at the moon’s light that danced across the cold tiles. The bellows of already half drunken men travelled into the dining room, all sorts of greetings and jesting insults rung out. I took a deep breath and turned to face them as they came in arms raised.
After a few sluggish embraces I excused myself and went for my room. I could hear some hurried actions taking place behind the door so I softly chapped before entering. It was my own room, sure, but the poor guy’s probably went from being half nude with a DVD in hand to being fully clothed, heart in hand.
“Stay there!” He shouted. “I’ve read about this stuff; Luring a gay man into a situation where he’s only going to leave in an ambulance or boot of a car!”
“Don’t be so silly Chris. After the night we’ve spent together you’d automatically assume such a macabre ending to the evening? They’ve just came over to see the fight, I forgot all about it being on tonight.”“Well don’t let me get in the way.”
He charged past me, not listening to my plea’s.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs my friends began to pour from the living room. Even they made an attempt to talk to him but he slid through them as if they didn’t exist.
“Chris come on...you’re over reacting.”“You think? What about all the things we discussed last night. Do they match up with how things are currently?”
“I forgot about the fight. They always come over for the fight.”
All the while my friends stood, happy to watch.
“Yea I must have forgotten the part where they ‘only come to visit when it suits them.’
Now one of my friends did pipe up. “What’s this faggoty looking bitch saying Cameron?”
Chris held his hands out. “Need I say more Cameron?” The way he said my name felt like someone had just rammed a knife in my back. The only problem was, It wasn’t me who must of felt like there was a knife lodged in my back. He turned, hauled the door open.
“Enjoy your night, lads!” I jumped slightly as the door slammed.
“The fuck was that?”
I would of replied to whatever friend it was that asked the question but all I could concentrate on was Chris’ footsteps as they faded out along the stone ridden drive way.
“Would you like us to leave you alone?”
I knew who the voice was now. It was my best friend, my friend of twenty-three years. I rested the DVD that Chris had dropped on the banister and trudged down the stairs. “Nah, it’s fine. Stay, I need you guy’s to stay.”
“No worries matey.” Neil began. “What was this shit about us only visiting when it suited us?”Surprisingly I didn’t hesitate when giving my reply. “He’s just bitter, boyfriend dumped him due to similar circumstances. Came round here to chill out but I think he assumed the worst when he heard you guy’s arrive.”Ryan then spoke. “Ah, typical queer; everything has to be a drama.”
I grimaced and lead the way back into the living room.
“Don’t worry mate, we’ve got plenty drugs and drink to help you forget that fag.”
“Yea...”
I slid into the recliner and switched the TV as everyone else found their place to sit. After finding the channel I found something else to watch that seemed way more enlightening than men punching the living shit out of each another.
Each one of my ‘friends’ had already helped themselves to food, drink and lay with their feet, still hugged by dirty shoes, upon my mother’s living room furniture. They were right about one thing. I would need drugs to help suppress the fact that the stranger who’s now en route home has more manners than the friends I chose over him. I exited the living room, leaving behind a few enquiries as to where I was off to, slipped my hoody on and quietly crept out the front door. I never stopped running until I found myself within sight of the bus stop that Chris stood at.
I watched his head move slightly to the side, had he heard my quick steps draw to a halt? If he had to made no effort to properly investigate as the headlights of the bus stained the road he stood aside and out went his arm to signal it to pull over. I opened my mouth in protest but remained mute. The bus came to a standstill, the door threw open and the light poured an almost angelic glow around Chris as he boarded. I heard his change rattle into the money device, but not his voice.
“Chris...” I found my voice, and my feet found movement. The doors rattled shut and the driver went into gear. I watched Chris walk towards the back of the bus, mobile in hand, watched him sit, head remaining focused on the front of the bus. My pocket then vibrated.
The text read. “Not nice being left in the dark is it?”
I hadn’t felt my eye’s well up, or felt the tear slide the length of my nose. Only did I notice it when it splashed across the screen of my phone. I pressed ‘reply’ and began.
“I didn’t mean...” No, that wouldn’t do. “Hi Chris, I’m sorry I really didn’t...”
A sudden screech echoed through the maze of streets that I stood centre of. I flipped my phone back over and into my pocket and jogged the few feet between me and the bus stop. Glancing to my right I saw nothing bus amber stained road and pavement. To my left, I saw the same, but with Chris charging in and out of each lights reach. Similar to the buttock pinch in central my eyes widened.
“Don’t think, just run!” He shouted. And in a freakish change of emotion I was now a ten year old running from some angry parent.
We came to a halt under a tree arch. I quizzed him about what had just taken place.
Catching his breath as well as still laughing he replied. “I’m impulsive, it has it’s downsides as well as it’s upsides.”
I smiled and grabbed his hand. “Let’s head back and put that DVD on.”
“Won’t your friends...”
“They will have their chance to prove they are more than residence hunters.”
Monday, 2 March 2009
Sins ‘N’ Needles
Away went another disappointed customer. I really couldn’t fathom why they chose me. I stood just over six foot with more bones than fat showing, multi-coloured hair and teeth damaged from some physical clients and substance abuse. I had habits that would burn a church down if I lit a candle for each one. However they keep coming back. My friend Heather used to joke that it was because I had a cute bum but as I stood looking at my naked figure in my mirrored wardrobes I could barely see an ass anymore. I guess it’s just the cheap rates and being well endowed that does it for them.
I turned my back on the mirrors and began rummaging through my bedside cabinet. It didn’t take me long before I found my strawberry gummi sweats box. As I took the box in my hands I sat on my bed and lay it on my lap. Man, they were the best sweets. The newsagents always sold them at double the prize of any other gummi treat in the store, but damn they were worth it. I popped the lid off and took out the essentials; the amber burnt spoon, the needle, the little poly bag of heroin and my old, somewhat weathered high school belt.
Not before long the needle was full and ready to go, just as I was. I gave the belt one last pull, slapped the inside of my arm and picked out one of the better veins.
When the last drops left the needle I loosened the belt and slumped in against my headboard.
“HELLO? Aiden are you home? Aiden!!”
I tried lifting my eyelids but they seemed too heavy.
“Who’s there?!” “Its Heather, open up I’m freezing my tits off out here!”
“Just come in, it’s not locked.”
Following a few short clicks and a swift boot, the door was open and in she came.
Immediately she gestured towards the drug paraphernalia “Oh hunni, why with this shit?!”
“You know why, please don’t start.”
“Fine, fine you still on for tonight? Gretchen managed to get a spare ticket for that industrial night.”
“Little preoccupied here, Heather.”
“Given, but it doesn’t start ‘til eleven and it’s only half six the now and stop being ignorant, open your eyes!”
Heather, my best friend, my life line after the murder of my parents, no angel herself but she was a far cry from what I’d become.
I sighed “Look, I got another client later, well, in…what time did you say it was…?”“Half six…”“An hour…he likes to fuck all gemmed up on coke as well as giving me the odd line, so between that and having my arse rattled I should good to go. I’ll call you around ten?”
Now it was her turn to sigh.
Eyes still shut, I heard rather than saw her jacket swirl as she turned, then the familiar creak of the door opening.
“Oh yea, I have you a date. He’s actually rather nice, cute, gothy and not ridden with…in fact, never mind. I’ll update you when my voice comes across more coherent.”
I smiled and she slammed the door.
My half seven arrived right on the dot. Fortunately for me he was prone to premature ejaculation. which suited me fine, as within twenty minutes he had been in every orifice possible, threw the roll of money at me and inside was a “generous” keep sake; a gram of coke.
He laughed “The look on your face, so very grateful, same time next week?”
“Should be fine…” I replied.
He pulled his zip up abruptly and scowled “Should be?!”
Not shifting my attention from the money and powder, I replied. “Sorry, will be.”
He smiled “That’s better sweetheart, tatty bye!”
When I met the girls in town that night they weren’t alone.
“Looking rather well considering earlier…” Heather began.
“Yea, yea so who’s this?” I motioned towards the stranger.
“This is Kieran,” Gretchen said. “He’s a regular at solid; the clumsy bugger spilled a drink over me the other night. After a stuttering apology we got talking, turns out he’s quite the fan of the industrial/electronic music.”
As she spoke to me her eyes continually shifted from me to the stranger. If eyes could talk I’d have bet the gram in my pocket that this was who Heather was on about earlier.
“Hello Kieran, I’m Aiden, how you doing?”He answered with a quiet tone “Good, thanks, yourself?”
He still hadn’t met my eyes full on yet. “Yea, can’t complain.”
An awkward silence arose; Gretchen quickly ended this with a proposal to go for a few pints before the club.
We didn’t stay in the bar long, a few beers and whiskey’s and we were on our way to Digital Harlot.
On the dance floor Kieran drew each of us in closely. He individually took each of our hands, when I opened mines three pills lay in my palm. I threw them down my throat along with the rest of my tequila slusho.
The later the night got the more I found myself drawn to this Kieran guy. Watching his hair fly around in bit parts thanks to the strobe light, his sleek body, a face sculpted so well the myriad of lights seemed to continually add beauty to his face.
When the rush of the drugs hit home I stopped dancing and began making my way over to him. The closer I got the slower he danced until I was facing him and he stood rigid. Me? Frightening? How I laughed inside. I raised my hand and signalled with my finger for him to come closer.
Our lips done everything but lock, we stood centre of the dance floor as still as ghosts yet everything around us continued like we didn’t exist. I could see I was going to be the one to initiate things. I lifted my hand, cupped his neck and kissed him. No longer was he shy. His hands ran all over my body, as mines did his.
As I lifted my head off the pillow the next morning I could see a figure under the duvet.
“Heather? I thought you pulled last night…”
I leaned over to sneak a look but it wasn’t Heather.
“The fuck are you?!” I yelled.
He pulled the duvet tight in to himself. “I’m Kieran…Gretchen and Heathers friend…”I frowned. “The clumsy fucker?”A small laugh escaped him. I remained straight faced.
“I’m sorry, I’ll go.” He turned his back on me and began picking his clothes up off the floor.
“Who invited you back here?”
He answered, still keeping his back to me “You did, you were also the one approached me in the club.”
I sat back down on the bed and began rubbing my forehead. Fucking typical.
“I think, yea, it’s wise you go. Sorry for any inconvenience or whatever.”
I curled up on the bed, minus the duvet.
“I have a feeling saying this won’t count for shit but I had a really good time with you. I’ll leave my number on the desk, call me if you want.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”I heard him rummaging around, followed by a few scribbles and off he went.
Five minutes hadn’t passed when someone rapped on my door. “Fuck, it was just a shag! Go home!”
It wasn’t Kieran who answered back.
“What? Let me in you know I hate waiting about!”
I looked round to my alarm. Shit! It was my 2.30.
Again the chap came. I clambered over to the door.
“Hey gorgeous, are you just going to leave me standing here?”
I rolled my eyes “No, no, in you come.”“My, my, you’re not looking to well.”“You’re about to stick your dick up my ass for money, why should you care about my health?”He seemed took aback but then laughed. I gave him a faux smile.
Like the coke head this one didn’t waste much time before he was inside me. Only this time round I couldn’t seem to go to that place that blanks out what I do for money.
Each time my face crunched into my pillow that Kieran guy flashed into my head. I dismissed that quickly though, I couldn’t even remember being with him never mind having feelings for him.
“What’s up gorgeous, you’re becoming tight…”.
“Nothing, I thought tighter was better anyways?”“Ah touché.”
After a few more thrusts he pulled out of me and threw me round and onto my back. Slowly he shifted his way up towards my face. “Finish me!”
Every time my teeth grazed his cock I contemplated biting it off. Suddenly saliva wasn’t the only liquid in my mouth. Motherfucker, he knows I don’t like that shit in my mouth! I slid my mouth back down him and opened wide. I shut my eyes and images of my parents blood soaked bodies came flooding back.
His screams pierced my ears like little needles.
What the fuck have you done you little slut?!” He screaming as his trembling hands cradled his now deformed cock.
“CALL ME A FUCKING AMBULANCE!”
I shook my head. “Don’t have any credit.”
His screams continued to get louder. He really wasn’t going to budge until someone dialled 999 understandable as he was a little preoccupied. I got off the bed and went over to where he’d thrown his clothes. I found his mobile and dialled 999.
“Take your clothes and get the fuck out of my apartment.”“You dirty little bastard. What the hell is wrong with you?!”“People like you.”
I pointed towards his boxers. “Use them to soak up your blood until the ambulance arrives. Now leave, you’re making a terrible mess of my bed.”
He awkwardly slid off the bed, holding the boxers over his bloody crotch.
“You haven’t seen the last of me SLUT!!”
Insults flowing from a voice that sounded like a child who’d dropped her lollypop, not very ferocious. After a hilarious performance of getting dressed one handed he left. I then tore the blood drenched sheets from my bed and lay down, gazing out my window.
A week passed and I still hadn’t heard back from limp dickshit. He was old news, I had a new customer today. That was always a treat. They’d chap my door so very weakly, as if regretting their actions already. Not to mention barely peeping a word from the first piece of clothing coming off until they left. Worked for me, I never was much of a conversationalist with clients, risks attachment, fucking hate attachment.
The newbie arrived right on time. I got up from the computer to let him in. As I slid the latch free, the door was thrust in upon me. Next thing I knew I was on the floor, blinking profusely to rid my eyes of the black spots that polluted my vision.
“Hope I didn’t knock any teeth out, cocksucker?!”
My head rolled from side to side, I glanced up at the intruder. Clad in black. Black combats and some army style jacket and surprise, surprise a crew cut. Looked like something straight out of an Xbox game.
“If you like it rough it costs extra you know…”“Harde-fucking-har-har. I’d save that cock breath of yours; oxygen will be precious to you in a little while.”
“A fan of golden showers, are we?”“My client wasn’t wrong; you’re quite a sarky bastard aren’t you.” His hands moved in and grabbed either side of my shoulders.
“Looky here faggot!”
Still rather dazed I tried rolling my head up to look him in the eye.
“That’s Ms Faggot to you Adolf.” He grabbed my hair and slapped me with his leather gloved hands.
“Faggots don’t please me much, if you keep that mouth sealed you’ll make things a lot easier on yourself.”
“Do me a favour asshole, whether I shut my mouth or not I some how don’t think I’ll be coming off any better.”
His attention turned from me to the door. “Shut the door.”
I managed to see an arm come from the side of the doorway and then we were alone.
I’ve had a few rough clients in my time but this guy was relentless. I went from being beat by his fists to being sodomized and eventually tied against my headboard which left me helpless when he decided to slice at me with his butch army knife.
“I’ve just had these sheets cleaned fuck face!”“You just can’t shut fucking up can you, you god damn parasite!!” He screamed and lunged onto the bed, knees landing in the blood that had gathered along my sides. “How’s about we cut that little throat of yours, see how your sarcasm flows then? Huh? Fancy that fag boy?!”“Well not particularly but…” I looked at my tied up wrists. “…Not like I can…”
Before I could finish shouts came from the hall, it caught his attention.
“Alex?” But he got no reply. “You stay there faggot. I’ll be back for you in a minute.”
This guy was just too easy. I swallowed the sarcasm.
He slowly opened the door. “Alex?”
The door opened further and he switched his attention towards the ground. “Alex!”
He didn’t get to ask a third time as something sent him flying back into the room. As he lay squirming Kieran came striding in.
“The hell, why..how…”“You weren’t answering my calls and Heather told me to persist and yea here I am…”“Well I can’t remember the sex but your timing is damn good.”“Apparently so…” He came towards me but as he reached out something pulled him down. He wasn’t down long. Soon he was back standing and I watched as his fists began flying back and forth into my attackers face, almost blurring with their quickness.
Another guy entered.
I yelled “Kieran!”
As he dropped the battered masochist the other guy began pulling some sort of sword out of his jeans. What Kieran did next, astounded me. He seemed to fold up and before the other guy could bring the sword down Kieran’s foot met his chin and back to the floor he went.
“Shit. What happened to being shy?”“Being shy is what drove me into martial arts.”“Bullied?”He looked down at the limp bodies. “Just a little…”
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright; this isn’t the time or place to get into that. Here, let me untie you.”I smiled. “Thanks.”
He flashed me a grin which erupted butterflies in my stomach, maybe I’d finally found something that wouldn’t need a needle to make my life seem worth while, maybe.
As I refused to remove my gaze from him my peripherals caught sight of movement. Before I could warm him a shot had went off. My saviour lay limp across my chest, new blood mixing with that of mines which had just begun to clot. My attacker stood, almost dumbfounded. He kicked his accomplice and yelled until he woke. When he did they didn’t hang about.
Kieran had only got one of my hands free; I used it to untie my other. Once both free I slid him off my chest to lie where he’d woke just day’s before, leaving him there as I went for the door. I slowly pushed it over; not bothering to lock it, then went for my gummi box. My hands trembled from the moment I opened the box until the needle sucked up what contents remained on the spoon. No discrimination with veins this time round, I slammed the needle into the most dominant vein available. After ripping it out my arm I tossed it at my door and cuddled into Kieran. Doubling my weekly intake should do the trick. I shut my eyes, kissed his shoulder and apologised.
I turned my back on the mirrors and began rummaging through my bedside cabinet. It didn’t take me long before I found my strawberry gummi sweats box. As I took the box in my hands I sat on my bed and lay it on my lap. Man, they were the best sweets. The newsagents always sold them at double the prize of any other gummi treat in the store, but damn they were worth it. I popped the lid off and took out the essentials; the amber burnt spoon, the needle, the little poly bag of heroin and my old, somewhat weathered high school belt.
Not before long the needle was full and ready to go, just as I was. I gave the belt one last pull, slapped the inside of my arm and picked out one of the better veins.
When the last drops left the needle I loosened the belt and slumped in against my headboard.
“HELLO? Aiden are you home? Aiden!!”
I tried lifting my eyelids but they seemed too heavy.
“Who’s there?!” “Its Heather, open up I’m freezing my tits off out here!”
“Just come in, it’s not locked.”
Following a few short clicks and a swift boot, the door was open and in she came.
Immediately she gestured towards the drug paraphernalia “Oh hunni, why with this shit?!”
“You know why, please don’t start.”
“Fine, fine you still on for tonight? Gretchen managed to get a spare ticket for that industrial night.”
“Little preoccupied here, Heather.”
“Given, but it doesn’t start ‘til eleven and it’s only half six the now and stop being ignorant, open your eyes!”
Heather, my best friend, my life line after the murder of my parents, no angel herself but she was a far cry from what I’d become.
I sighed “Look, I got another client later, well, in…what time did you say it was…?”“Half six…”“An hour…he likes to fuck all gemmed up on coke as well as giving me the odd line, so between that and having my arse rattled I should good to go. I’ll call you around ten?”
Now it was her turn to sigh.
Eyes still shut, I heard rather than saw her jacket swirl as she turned, then the familiar creak of the door opening.
“Oh yea, I have you a date. He’s actually rather nice, cute, gothy and not ridden with…in fact, never mind. I’ll update you when my voice comes across more coherent.”
I smiled and she slammed the door.
My half seven arrived right on the dot. Fortunately for me he was prone to premature ejaculation. which suited me fine, as within twenty minutes he had been in every orifice possible, threw the roll of money at me and inside was a “generous” keep sake; a gram of coke.
He laughed “The look on your face, so very grateful, same time next week?”
“Should be fine…” I replied.
He pulled his zip up abruptly and scowled “Should be?!”
Not shifting my attention from the money and powder, I replied. “Sorry, will be.”
He smiled “That’s better sweetheart, tatty bye!”
When I met the girls in town that night they weren’t alone.
“Looking rather well considering earlier…” Heather began.
“Yea, yea so who’s this?” I motioned towards the stranger.
“This is Kieran,” Gretchen said. “He’s a regular at solid; the clumsy bugger spilled a drink over me the other night. After a stuttering apology we got talking, turns out he’s quite the fan of the industrial/electronic music.”
As she spoke to me her eyes continually shifted from me to the stranger. If eyes could talk I’d have bet the gram in my pocket that this was who Heather was on about earlier.
“Hello Kieran, I’m Aiden, how you doing?”He answered with a quiet tone “Good, thanks, yourself?”
He still hadn’t met my eyes full on yet. “Yea, can’t complain.”
An awkward silence arose; Gretchen quickly ended this with a proposal to go for a few pints before the club.
We didn’t stay in the bar long, a few beers and whiskey’s and we were on our way to Digital Harlot.
On the dance floor Kieran drew each of us in closely. He individually took each of our hands, when I opened mines three pills lay in my palm. I threw them down my throat along with the rest of my tequila slusho.
The later the night got the more I found myself drawn to this Kieran guy. Watching his hair fly around in bit parts thanks to the strobe light, his sleek body, a face sculpted so well the myriad of lights seemed to continually add beauty to his face.
When the rush of the drugs hit home I stopped dancing and began making my way over to him. The closer I got the slower he danced until I was facing him and he stood rigid. Me? Frightening? How I laughed inside. I raised my hand and signalled with my finger for him to come closer.
Our lips done everything but lock, we stood centre of the dance floor as still as ghosts yet everything around us continued like we didn’t exist. I could see I was going to be the one to initiate things. I lifted my hand, cupped his neck and kissed him. No longer was he shy. His hands ran all over my body, as mines did his.
As I lifted my head off the pillow the next morning I could see a figure under the duvet.
“Heather? I thought you pulled last night…”
I leaned over to sneak a look but it wasn’t Heather.
“The fuck are you?!” I yelled.
He pulled the duvet tight in to himself. “I’m Kieran…Gretchen and Heathers friend…”I frowned. “The clumsy fucker?”A small laugh escaped him. I remained straight faced.
“I’m sorry, I’ll go.” He turned his back on me and began picking his clothes up off the floor.
“Who invited you back here?”
He answered, still keeping his back to me “You did, you were also the one approached me in the club.”
I sat back down on the bed and began rubbing my forehead. Fucking typical.
“I think, yea, it’s wise you go. Sorry for any inconvenience or whatever.”
I curled up on the bed, minus the duvet.
“I have a feeling saying this won’t count for shit but I had a really good time with you. I’ll leave my number on the desk, call me if you want.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”I heard him rummaging around, followed by a few scribbles and off he went.
Five minutes hadn’t passed when someone rapped on my door. “Fuck, it was just a shag! Go home!”
It wasn’t Kieran who answered back.
“What? Let me in you know I hate waiting about!”
I looked round to my alarm. Shit! It was my 2.30.
Again the chap came. I clambered over to the door.
“Hey gorgeous, are you just going to leave me standing here?”
I rolled my eyes “No, no, in you come.”“My, my, you’re not looking to well.”“You’re about to stick your dick up my ass for money, why should you care about my health?”He seemed took aback but then laughed. I gave him a faux smile.
Like the coke head this one didn’t waste much time before he was inside me. Only this time round I couldn’t seem to go to that place that blanks out what I do for money.
Each time my face crunched into my pillow that Kieran guy flashed into my head. I dismissed that quickly though, I couldn’t even remember being with him never mind having feelings for him.
“What’s up gorgeous, you’re becoming tight…”.
“Nothing, I thought tighter was better anyways?”“Ah touché.”
After a few more thrusts he pulled out of me and threw me round and onto my back. Slowly he shifted his way up towards my face. “Finish me!”
Every time my teeth grazed his cock I contemplated biting it off. Suddenly saliva wasn’t the only liquid in my mouth. Motherfucker, he knows I don’t like that shit in my mouth! I slid my mouth back down him and opened wide. I shut my eyes and images of my parents blood soaked bodies came flooding back.
His screams pierced my ears like little needles.
What the fuck have you done you little slut?!” He screaming as his trembling hands cradled his now deformed cock.
“CALL ME A FUCKING AMBULANCE!”
I shook my head. “Don’t have any credit.”
His screams continued to get louder. He really wasn’t going to budge until someone dialled 999 understandable as he was a little preoccupied. I got off the bed and went over to where he’d thrown his clothes. I found his mobile and dialled 999.
“Take your clothes and get the fuck out of my apartment.”“You dirty little bastard. What the hell is wrong with you?!”“People like you.”
I pointed towards his boxers. “Use them to soak up your blood until the ambulance arrives. Now leave, you’re making a terrible mess of my bed.”
He awkwardly slid off the bed, holding the boxers over his bloody crotch.
“You haven’t seen the last of me SLUT!!”
Insults flowing from a voice that sounded like a child who’d dropped her lollypop, not very ferocious. After a hilarious performance of getting dressed one handed he left. I then tore the blood drenched sheets from my bed and lay down, gazing out my window.
A week passed and I still hadn’t heard back from limp dickshit. He was old news, I had a new customer today. That was always a treat. They’d chap my door so very weakly, as if regretting their actions already. Not to mention barely peeping a word from the first piece of clothing coming off until they left. Worked for me, I never was much of a conversationalist with clients, risks attachment, fucking hate attachment.
The newbie arrived right on time. I got up from the computer to let him in. As I slid the latch free, the door was thrust in upon me. Next thing I knew I was on the floor, blinking profusely to rid my eyes of the black spots that polluted my vision.
“Hope I didn’t knock any teeth out, cocksucker?!”
My head rolled from side to side, I glanced up at the intruder. Clad in black. Black combats and some army style jacket and surprise, surprise a crew cut. Looked like something straight out of an Xbox game.
“If you like it rough it costs extra you know…”“Harde-fucking-har-har. I’d save that cock breath of yours; oxygen will be precious to you in a little while.”
“A fan of golden showers, are we?”“My client wasn’t wrong; you’re quite a sarky bastard aren’t you.” His hands moved in and grabbed either side of my shoulders.
“Looky here faggot!”
Still rather dazed I tried rolling my head up to look him in the eye.
“That’s Ms Faggot to you Adolf.” He grabbed my hair and slapped me with his leather gloved hands.
“Faggots don’t please me much, if you keep that mouth sealed you’ll make things a lot easier on yourself.”
“Do me a favour asshole, whether I shut my mouth or not I some how don’t think I’ll be coming off any better.”
His attention turned from me to the door. “Shut the door.”
I managed to see an arm come from the side of the doorway and then we were alone.
I’ve had a few rough clients in my time but this guy was relentless. I went from being beat by his fists to being sodomized and eventually tied against my headboard which left me helpless when he decided to slice at me with his butch army knife.
“I’ve just had these sheets cleaned fuck face!”“You just can’t shut fucking up can you, you god damn parasite!!” He screamed and lunged onto the bed, knees landing in the blood that had gathered along my sides. “How’s about we cut that little throat of yours, see how your sarcasm flows then? Huh? Fancy that fag boy?!”“Well not particularly but…” I looked at my tied up wrists. “…Not like I can…”
Before I could finish shouts came from the hall, it caught his attention.
“Alex?” But he got no reply. “You stay there faggot. I’ll be back for you in a minute.”
This guy was just too easy. I swallowed the sarcasm.
He slowly opened the door. “Alex?”
The door opened further and he switched his attention towards the ground. “Alex!”
He didn’t get to ask a third time as something sent him flying back into the room. As he lay squirming Kieran came striding in.
“The hell, why..how…”“You weren’t answering my calls and Heather told me to persist and yea here I am…”“Well I can’t remember the sex but your timing is damn good.”“Apparently so…” He came towards me but as he reached out something pulled him down. He wasn’t down long. Soon he was back standing and I watched as his fists began flying back and forth into my attackers face, almost blurring with their quickness.
Another guy entered.
I yelled “Kieran!”
As he dropped the battered masochist the other guy began pulling some sort of sword out of his jeans. What Kieran did next, astounded me. He seemed to fold up and before the other guy could bring the sword down Kieran’s foot met his chin and back to the floor he went.
“Shit. What happened to being shy?”“Being shy is what drove me into martial arts.”“Bullied?”He looked down at the limp bodies. “Just a little…”
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright; this isn’t the time or place to get into that. Here, let me untie you.”I smiled. “Thanks.”
He flashed me a grin which erupted butterflies in my stomach, maybe I’d finally found something that wouldn’t need a needle to make my life seem worth while, maybe.
As I refused to remove my gaze from him my peripherals caught sight of movement. Before I could warm him a shot had went off. My saviour lay limp across my chest, new blood mixing with that of mines which had just begun to clot. My attacker stood, almost dumbfounded. He kicked his accomplice and yelled until he woke. When he did they didn’t hang about.
Kieran had only got one of my hands free; I used it to untie my other. Once both free I slid him off my chest to lie where he’d woke just day’s before, leaving him there as I went for the door. I slowly pushed it over; not bothering to lock it, then went for my gummi box. My hands trembled from the moment I opened the box until the needle sucked up what contents remained on the spoon. No discrimination with veins this time round, I slammed the needle into the most dominant vein available. After ripping it out my arm I tossed it at my door and cuddled into Kieran. Doubling my weekly intake should do the trick. I shut my eyes, kissed his shoulder and apologised.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Emotional Distortion
Emotional Distortion
When I was five, love was television. When I was thirteen, love was gaming and football. When I was twenty-one, love was a mystery. I would never settle with any one person and when I did it seemed more effort than what it was worth. I had gone through high school with no more intimacy than a kiss, which in retrospect I have no regrets about.
College years weren’t much of an improvement but every day confidence grew and due to my new circle of friends I was finding myself around people I could relate to more. Within a year my sexual maturity had shot up more than it done in the previous five. Something that was ever intriguing. As for my introduction to relationships, they only went as far as drink, drugs and then back to some random girls’ flat. But that was fine with me, if random sex, drugs and alcohol was to be my forte then, hallelujah!
Just like the movies and many soppy novels though, life did through “love” into my mix.
Every now and then id sleep with someone and see that look appear on their face that’s silently asking you ‘there’s more than sex here….yes?’. At first I adored such looks and I’d give my heart away to the moment and to whatever entailed. But several relationships down the line I really was becoming a bitter bastard towards love and trust. I found myself in situations where I would be speaking just what the person I was with wanted to hear, being intimate just because my ego refused to let me turn my back and on occasion when I didn’t draw any negativity towards a relationship and felt that I had finally found someone that my heart could rest within it would be them who’d lose interest and drift away. The more such happenings carried on, the more my mind opened, so much so my eyes weren’t just drifting towards females no more. This was something I never really gave much attention to though as it was only really when intoxicated that my eyes would wonder, well until I met him.
I had regulated a pub in the city most afternoons whilst on my break from work. Sure drinking during lunch was hardly model behaviour but it never impaired my work and that’s all that matters, right? Anyway, my face had become known so much so that sometimes when I came through the doors my pint was already being poured, unless of course there was a new start and it was to be a ‘neube’ that would ultimately bulldozer my perceptions of what love was.
After the festive period was over the pub lost a lot of the new staff but as summer approached more new faces arrived. A lot of them rather lovely gothic looking woman but to my shock, at the time, it wasn’t to be them who’d catch my eye as much. Instead it was a six foot brunette…male. Any time that I’d visit the pub after his arrival either he’d catch me looking at him or vice versa. I put this down to nothing but coincidence as eyes are constantly wondering in bars.
My curiosity was to plague me though. So I browsed a website that I had a profile on. Amongst my ‘friends’ on the site was the manager of the bar, so I had a quick look at his list of friends and there he was.
Nathaniel was his name and after browsing his profile it seemed to cry out bisexual however his ‘stats’ included; straight and catholic…go figure. Needless to say my little mind demons arose and wanted to curse this Nathaniel for raising such curiosities in me. Despite this, I added him to my list of friends as surely I was mature enough to let a friendship blossom without spite arising towards him? A week had passed before I noticed he’d accepted my invite. Afterwards we exchanged a few messages and anytime that I’d visit the bar we’d never go past one another without stopping for a chat or when I’d visit for lunch we’d sit, well he’d stand due to his working role, and talk about anything and everything, well, almost everything.
The company I’d got my job with at the time our friendship took off had stated it was a twelve week contract with the possibility of a permanent contract at the end but when the twelve week mark approached it was soon apparent that I wouldn’t be there after the festive period calmed down. This resulted in my visiting the pub less which saddened me a little as I’d grew rather fond of my afternoon rendezvous with Nathaniel.
When money did begin to flow again it was minimal but it got me some social life, which usually meant visiting the pub with my friends once or twice a week. During one of these visit’s I found out Nathaniel was going to be attending the recently announced Korn gig in town, something that I was intending to do also.
By the time last order was called out in the bar that night Nathaniel and I had agreed that when the day of the concert arrived we’d meet up in town and head over together seeing as our friends were to busy to attend.
In the weeks that led up to the concert the more my mind began to wonder in regards to Nathaniel. Sometimes I’d had such a shit day but upon entering the pub and him giving me a smile all my worries of the day would soon vanish and the world wouldn’t seem so annoying. I would sometimes wonder if my fondness of him was a little too obvious but never did I get the impression that our drunken cuddles and sometimes never ending talks existed through nothing more than courtesy.
On the day of the concert we done as we’d agreed; Met in the bar for a few pre-concert pints then we headed over to the venue. As we approached the venue the crowd wasn’t all that bad, well not for such a big band as Korn. Either we had arrived during the quiet before the storm or doors had opened early.
After nearly an hour of waiting we were inside. The place was flooded with people, upper and lower decks. “Guess the door’s did open early..” Nathaniel scoffed.
We quickly shuffled our way over to the bar, bought two pints each and shot off down towards the stage. As we pardoned ourselves through the crowd, half soaked from people barging into us, the lights dimmed and the inaugural roar of anticipation from the crowd filled the hall.
It was the best performance I’ve seen of Korn and I’ve seen them three times. Through-out the concert both me and Nathaniel had been bouncing about crazily, grabbing each another and chanting along with every word that fell out of the singer’s mouth. Every time we caught each other’s eye the smiles that spread across our faces seemed to feed off one another. It really was a night that my life was long over due.
When the lights drenched the crowd at the end we managed to wriggle our way through the dense exiting crowd rather quickly and were soon out in the shudder worthy cold. Both of us we’re trembling due to the sweat from the concert drawing in the cold more so than it would if we hadn’t just been bouncing around for two hours. Nathaniel had suggested we venture round the side of the venue and try hailing a taxi, his treat as he couldn’t be bothered hiking it back to town. He got no complaints from me.
As we headed round the corner of the building I suddenly had Nathaniel on my back and wrapping his arms round my neck and his legs round my waist.
“You’ll need to do until we get in the nice warm taxi!” He exclaimed.
“Aye right! I aint hefting your arse around until a taxi arrives! Get!”
He continued laughing and wouldn’t let go.
“Cant exactly phone a taxi when your legs are clamped over the pocket my phone is in, can I?!” I protested.
“Ah shush you or I’ll tighten my grip!”
A small laugh escaped me “You sir, are an arse and you’re sounding like you’re enjoying being attached to me!”
“Maybe I am…maybe I’m not…!” he said as he bent his neck round and fired a crazy look at me.
I laughed “I’d say you were, you gay tart!”
“I’ll gay you!” he replied
“Oh that’s a good come back!” I then began spinning him round in circles as he clenched onto my back, which due to our drunken states nearly landed us on the ground at every turn.
I could feel him laughing still. “STOP STOP!!” he spluttered.
When I brought us to a halt his head draped round the curve of my neck. “Man, this has been a good night!”
“Yea…long over due for me.”
“Me too…” he replied.
I knew in that moment if I was going to have an opportunity it wasn’t going to get much better than here and now and with that I slowly turned my head and gently kissed his cheek.
He slowly released his grip on me and slid down my back. When I knew he was completely free I turned to face him, my heart pounding so much I thought it shatter it the ribs that encased it.
“I…I…Ryan…I’m not…you know…” he lifted his head “…I love you and our time together but I don’t think…”
“Nor I Nathan…It’s …I don’t know…It just seemed right…?” My stomach now felt like a tornado hot spot.
“What’s freaking me more is I wouldn’t totally disagree with you…”
When I approached to hug him and apologise for pushing such a matter on him he didn’t act like some crazed homophobe that you’d see on Jerry Springer. He embraced me as much as I him. As our arms fell away from one another we turned and headed back to town on foot.
Looking back I know why I believed I was in love. Nathaniel done more for me in a few months than anyone had in my lifetime. As for our moment outside the concert venue, well, we’ve never really built on that but we have never really dismissed it.
I’d always had this perception of love; man and woman glowing with joy, hand in hand and soon comes the arrival of a baby girl or baby boy. Nowadays I have a new outlook on love. Rather than feeling it’s a mandatory chore that should be fulfilled or chased I’d now rather allow love to blossom without outside pressure or inner doubt. Never was a fan of pressure or doubt anyways.
When I was five, love was television. When I was thirteen, love was gaming and football. When I was twenty-one, love was a mystery. I would never settle with any one person and when I did it seemed more effort than what it was worth. I had gone through high school with no more intimacy than a kiss, which in retrospect I have no regrets about.
College years weren’t much of an improvement but every day confidence grew and due to my new circle of friends I was finding myself around people I could relate to more. Within a year my sexual maturity had shot up more than it done in the previous five. Something that was ever intriguing. As for my introduction to relationships, they only went as far as drink, drugs and then back to some random girls’ flat. But that was fine with me, if random sex, drugs and alcohol was to be my forte then, hallelujah!
Just like the movies and many soppy novels though, life did through “love” into my mix.
Every now and then id sleep with someone and see that look appear on their face that’s silently asking you ‘there’s more than sex here….yes?’. At first I adored such looks and I’d give my heart away to the moment and to whatever entailed. But several relationships down the line I really was becoming a bitter bastard towards love and trust. I found myself in situations where I would be speaking just what the person I was with wanted to hear, being intimate just because my ego refused to let me turn my back and on occasion when I didn’t draw any negativity towards a relationship and felt that I had finally found someone that my heart could rest within it would be them who’d lose interest and drift away. The more such happenings carried on, the more my mind opened, so much so my eyes weren’t just drifting towards females no more. This was something I never really gave much attention to though as it was only really when intoxicated that my eyes would wonder, well until I met him.
I had regulated a pub in the city most afternoons whilst on my break from work. Sure drinking during lunch was hardly model behaviour but it never impaired my work and that’s all that matters, right? Anyway, my face had become known so much so that sometimes when I came through the doors my pint was already being poured, unless of course there was a new start and it was to be a ‘neube’ that would ultimately bulldozer my perceptions of what love was.
After the festive period was over the pub lost a lot of the new staff but as summer approached more new faces arrived. A lot of them rather lovely gothic looking woman but to my shock, at the time, it wasn’t to be them who’d catch my eye as much. Instead it was a six foot brunette…male. Any time that I’d visit the pub after his arrival either he’d catch me looking at him or vice versa. I put this down to nothing but coincidence as eyes are constantly wondering in bars.
My curiosity was to plague me though. So I browsed a website that I had a profile on. Amongst my ‘friends’ on the site was the manager of the bar, so I had a quick look at his list of friends and there he was.
Nathaniel was his name and after browsing his profile it seemed to cry out bisexual however his ‘stats’ included; straight and catholic…go figure. Needless to say my little mind demons arose and wanted to curse this Nathaniel for raising such curiosities in me. Despite this, I added him to my list of friends as surely I was mature enough to let a friendship blossom without spite arising towards him? A week had passed before I noticed he’d accepted my invite. Afterwards we exchanged a few messages and anytime that I’d visit the bar we’d never go past one another without stopping for a chat or when I’d visit for lunch we’d sit, well he’d stand due to his working role, and talk about anything and everything, well, almost everything.
The company I’d got my job with at the time our friendship took off had stated it was a twelve week contract with the possibility of a permanent contract at the end but when the twelve week mark approached it was soon apparent that I wouldn’t be there after the festive period calmed down. This resulted in my visiting the pub less which saddened me a little as I’d grew rather fond of my afternoon rendezvous with Nathaniel.
When money did begin to flow again it was minimal but it got me some social life, which usually meant visiting the pub with my friends once or twice a week. During one of these visit’s I found out Nathaniel was going to be attending the recently announced Korn gig in town, something that I was intending to do also.
By the time last order was called out in the bar that night Nathaniel and I had agreed that when the day of the concert arrived we’d meet up in town and head over together seeing as our friends were to busy to attend.
In the weeks that led up to the concert the more my mind began to wonder in regards to Nathaniel. Sometimes I’d had such a shit day but upon entering the pub and him giving me a smile all my worries of the day would soon vanish and the world wouldn’t seem so annoying. I would sometimes wonder if my fondness of him was a little too obvious but never did I get the impression that our drunken cuddles and sometimes never ending talks existed through nothing more than courtesy.
On the day of the concert we done as we’d agreed; Met in the bar for a few pre-concert pints then we headed over to the venue. As we approached the venue the crowd wasn’t all that bad, well not for such a big band as Korn. Either we had arrived during the quiet before the storm or doors had opened early.
After nearly an hour of waiting we were inside. The place was flooded with people, upper and lower decks. “Guess the door’s did open early..” Nathaniel scoffed.
We quickly shuffled our way over to the bar, bought two pints each and shot off down towards the stage. As we pardoned ourselves through the crowd, half soaked from people barging into us, the lights dimmed and the inaugural roar of anticipation from the crowd filled the hall.
It was the best performance I’ve seen of Korn and I’ve seen them three times. Through-out the concert both me and Nathaniel had been bouncing about crazily, grabbing each another and chanting along with every word that fell out of the singer’s mouth. Every time we caught each other’s eye the smiles that spread across our faces seemed to feed off one another. It really was a night that my life was long over due.
When the lights drenched the crowd at the end we managed to wriggle our way through the dense exiting crowd rather quickly and were soon out in the shudder worthy cold. Both of us we’re trembling due to the sweat from the concert drawing in the cold more so than it would if we hadn’t just been bouncing around for two hours. Nathaniel had suggested we venture round the side of the venue and try hailing a taxi, his treat as he couldn’t be bothered hiking it back to town. He got no complaints from me.
As we headed round the corner of the building I suddenly had Nathaniel on my back and wrapping his arms round my neck and his legs round my waist.
“You’ll need to do until we get in the nice warm taxi!” He exclaimed.
“Aye right! I aint hefting your arse around until a taxi arrives! Get!”
He continued laughing and wouldn’t let go.
“Cant exactly phone a taxi when your legs are clamped over the pocket my phone is in, can I?!” I protested.
“Ah shush you or I’ll tighten my grip!”
A small laugh escaped me “You sir, are an arse and you’re sounding like you’re enjoying being attached to me!”
“Maybe I am…maybe I’m not…!” he said as he bent his neck round and fired a crazy look at me.
I laughed “I’d say you were, you gay tart!”
“I’ll gay you!” he replied
“Oh that’s a good come back!” I then began spinning him round in circles as he clenched onto my back, which due to our drunken states nearly landed us on the ground at every turn.
I could feel him laughing still. “STOP STOP!!” he spluttered.
When I brought us to a halt his head draped round the curve of my neck. “Man, this has been a good night!”
“Yea…long over due for me.”
“Me too…” he replied.
I knew in that moment if I was going to have an opportunity it wasn’t going to get much better than here and now and with that I slowly turned my head and gently kissed his cheek.
He slowly released his grip on me and slid down my back. When I knew he was completely free I turned to face him, my heart pounding so much I thought it shatter it the ribs that encased it.
“I…I…Ryan…I’m not…you know…” he lifted his head “…I love you and our time together but I don’t think…”
“Nor I Nathan…It’s …I don’t know…It just seemed right…?” My stomach now felt like a tornado hot spot.
“What’s freaking me more is I wouldn’t totally disagree with you…”
When I approached to hug him and apologise for pushing such a matter on him he didn’t act like some crazed homophobe that you’d see on Jerry Springer. He embraced me as much as I him. As our arms fell away from one another we turned and headed back to town on foot.
Looking back I know why I believed I was in love. Nathaniel done more for me in a few months than anyone had in my lifetime. As for our moment outside the concert venue, well, we’ve never really built on that but we have never really dismissed it.
I’d always had this perception of love; man and woman glowing with joy, hand in hand and soon comes the arrival of a baby girl or baby boy. Nowadays I have a new outlook on love. Rather than feeling it’s a mandatory chore that should be fulfilled or chased I’d now rather allow love to blossom without outside pressure or inner doubt. Never was a fan of pressure or doubt anyways.
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