Reclaiming Austin
By:
William Tyler King
(Copyright 2005-2007 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions
are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 9
Like everything that day, work was
a hazy, fluffy clouds, sunny, birds singing in magnolia trees,
everybody's happy kind of day. I'm sure there were grumpy people, it
was probably pouring rain and the birds were assuredly all
cantankerous pigeons with raspy voices, but it seemed all sunshine
and happy to me.
Marika and the other workers were teasing me, I was so happy. I
retold my weekend adventure to the whole office over lunch; those
that wanted to hear it, anyway. The girls were all "Awwwwwww," and
the guys just wanted to know who "he" was, what sport he played, and
if I could get them his autograph. My reply was to bring a nice
present to our wedding, and he'd sign their invitation.
I was singing to my Dee Lite album all the way home. Groove was so
in my heart that afternoon. After I parked and started up my stairs,
I saw a guy standing outside my apartment and talking on his cell
phone. As I got closer, I saw that it was Glen.
"Yeah dude, maybe five or 10 minutes. Yeah, you too. Bye." Glen said
as he gave me a forced smile and hung up his cell phone.
"Who was that, dude?" I asked.
"No one. Just a friend. How's it goin' Alex?"
I twirled over to him and laid my head on his shoulder as I smiled
up at him. "Excellent. Come on in and tell me why you're here dude?"
Glen stepped in and briefly looked around.
"Ya got any beer, dude?"
"In the fridge, big guy. I think Austin left a few," I said as I
opened the door and headed to my bedroom to lose my coat and tie.
As I walked out, Glen handed me a beer. I noticed right away that he
didn't look me in the eyes, and he was acting a little funny.
"Everything OK with Jennifer?" I asked, trying to figure out what
was going on.
"Yeah, yeah she's fine. Let's go sit down."
I gave him a funny look as we went to my living room and sat
opposite each other in mismatched rockers.
"So, what gives Glen? You look awful?" I asked. He was just
beginning to stammer out an answer when my phone rang. I told him to
hold for just a second while I got rid of whoever it was. He told me
to take the call, that he was going to the bathroom. As I grabbed
the phone, confused by Glen's behavior, I was thrilled to hear
Austin's voice.
"Hi, Alex. How ... how are you dude?"
If Glen had sounded strange, Austin sounded awful.
"Austin, honey, what's the matter? What's wrong?"
There was some stammering on the other end. A long pause, then in
the deadest voice I'd ever heard.
Slowly, quietly, he whispered: "Alex, yesterday ... At Disney ...
dude ... We ...we were seen ... I was fuckin' recognized ... Alex,
the fuckin' rumor got here before I did."
His voice was full of fear, confusion and terrifying resignation.
"I ... I ... I don't understand Austin. Who saw you? How? Where at
Disney? I don't understand." I said almost silently, fear rocketing
up my spine.
There was silence for a moment. The only sound I hear was the
thumping of my heart.
"Austin? Austin, what are you saying? What does this mean? What did
you do?" I asked.
" I lied Alex ... I told everyone it was just a fuckin' joke ... I
told them that we ... that you were an old friend and we were just
fuckin' around. I don't know if anyone believed me. It was so
fucking stupid of me to go there," his voice rising with each word.
"Austin, What does it mean? A-a-are you still coming home when
school's out?"
My plea poured into the receiver.
"No."
His voice was almost silent.
Where moments before, my heart was soaring with the eagles, now it
was crawling on the bottom of the sea with the slugs.
I stood and began to shake. In my panic, I began pleading with
Austin, as though my cries could sway what was obviously an awful
and painful decision for him. A decision as resolute as it was
tragic.
"Nooooo, Austin. We can work it out. We'll figure it out. Austin,
baby, there has to be a way. I-I-I'll act more masculine. I'll stop
telling people about me. I can act butch!"
My pleas only earned me a sob from the other end. I could picture
his face twisted in guilt and pain, and it made me more determined
to ... to take him in my arms and make it all go away.
"It's done Alex. I-I-I can't tell you how sorry I am. I didn't mean
to hurt you. It isn't fair. Hate me if it'll help. But don't change
for me, Alex. You're ... You're so perfect, sweetheart. God, Alex, I
am sooo fucking sorry."
"Noooooooo ... Austin?" I shouted into the phone in a pained voice.
In a deliberate, smooth voice, one holding back and dominating over
his pain, Austin continued, "Alex, I have to cut all ties, for both
of us, you and me ... and to hide what I've done ... Please, don't
call me ... don't email me..."
After a long deadly pause he added, "Good bye, baby."
The phone line went dead, and all I could do was stand there holding
the phone. Shaking, begging to a dead line for another chance,
trying to figure out what had happened.
I jumped as a hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find Glen
standing there, tears in his eyes as he mouthed how sorry he was. I
wanted to talk, but when I tried my bottom lip started to quiver,
then my eyes got wet. A moment later, I lost control and sunk into
his arms. It was the second time in less then as many months that I
had fallen apart in Glen's arms.
To be honest, I don't remember much beyond that that night. As the
night went on, I was swallowed by the black fog which blotted out
light and reason. I fell from the cliff of jubilation to the depths
of a black abyss. Poor Glen could do nothing but utter pointless
platitudes.
I tried to get ready for work the next day, but I could do little
but cry and stare out the window. Thankfully, Glen had spent the
night and called my work and explained to them what happened. Then
he called his own job and did the same. Glen called several of my
other friends when he thought I couldn't hear him, explaining what
happened. And once he found my address book, he called my doctor,
too.
About noon, Mrs. Tremere came in and tried to talk with me. All I
remember was crying on her shoulder as she held me. Some time later,
she left a platter of food, which I had no interest in eating.
My reactions might seem excessive or overly dramatic to some people,
but my actions weren't for sympathy or for dramatic effect. The part
of my brain governed by logic had been replaced with a screaming,
frightened child.
To Glen's credit, he got me to the doctor after lunch, and I was
started on Prozac and Xanax that afternoon. Glen was given some
sleeping pills for me if I needed them. That evening, Michael showed
up and took over the shift for Glen.
When I started to protest Michael simply said, "Alex, I took off
work and I am here to help you. If you start fighting me, I will
Baker Act your ass! I'm your best friend, and I'm sure as shit not
going through what I did the last time."
Michael wasn't being mean, just firm and blunt. No one understood me
better in this situation than he did. No one else had earned the
right to talk to me like this or threaten to have me committed.
Michael had been through hell with me and come out still calling me
a friend.
Then Michael came over and put his arms around me, an act which
might seem normal for most people under these circumstances. But
Michael wasn't most people. He wasn't governed by the warm fuzzy
laws of emotion which prevail over most people's lives.
"I'm sorry, Alex. I really am, sweetheart. None of us saw this
coming. Maybe he'll come around when he gets over the shock. He was
obviously in love with you Alex. We're trying to figure out who's
gonna talk to him. His bitch of a girlfriend won't let him have
contact with anybody here. She's threatened to tell everyone in
Gainesville that he's gay if he tries to get in touch with anybody
here. You just hold yourself together."
So my big, strong best friend held me as the storms within raged and
I cried until his shirt was soaking wet.
The 29th came. It was a Friday, and it was also Austin's birthday.
Cynthia and Phil took me back to Phil's house to get me away from my
apartment. While I was out, I later learned that Michael was
downloading all my information on Austin onto CDs so I wouldn't get
mad and destroy all the letters and pictures I would never be able
to replace.
They tried to help, as did Korma and Steve. But nothing could pull
me away from the fact that today was my boyfriend's birthday. Even
if he didn't ever want to see me again.
Late that night, as Phil played soft rock on his guitar in his
living room, Ryan showed up and scooped me up into a huge hug. He
whispered how sorry he was about what had happened, and set me back
on the couch so I would lean against his side. His big, tanned,
gym-toned arm draped protectively around me.
"Hey, Alex, would you like to do me a huge favor?" Ryan asked me.
I nodded detachedly.
"Not sure I'll be much good, but if you think I can help ... " I
said slowly.
"I was thinking that maybe you wouldn't mind coming down to spend
the weekend at my house with me and Brandon. And then tomorrow
night, you could accompany me to a dinner party."
I was about to protest about my mood when Ryan interjected, "And
don't worry about your mood, Alex. These are all formal, tight-ass
Disney officials and their equally dull dates. You'll be the cutest
and youngest guy there. So if you're a little down, you'll fit right
in. I won't even have to worry about you being bored."
I thought about it a few a minutes, and when he squeezed my
shoulders I finally acquiesced.
"The Prozac is kicking in, Ryan. I'm not promising I'll be a lot of
fun. But sure, I think I can handle a dinner party."
Ryan got up and said, "Great, we'll swing by your house since I
doubt I have anything that would fit you. You're doing me a great
service, Alex. There's nothing worse then showing up to an office
dinner party single. Every wife, girlfriend, significant other and
boyfriend would be trying to set me up on blind dates over the next
month."
I think I smiled for the first time in a week at that image.
"So basically I'm saving you from loads of anonymous sex and
possibly meeting a boyfriend?"
I got a sideways look soaked in sarcasm. "Yeah, exactly."
We got to my apartment. As we went through my closet looking for
something "dressy casual formal" Ryan finally sighed, "You have
rugged casual, you have jock casual and you have funeral or wedding
formal. But what the hell do you wear to dinner parties, Alex?"
"My cock ring and a lobster bib?" I asked sarcastically.
Ryan laughed. Then I admitted that I had never actually been to a
dinner party.
"Alex, tomorrow we are going to take you out clothes shopping.
Winter Park has a few really nice places."
My eyes started to flash dollar signs so bright that Ryan saw them.
"And don't worry about the prices, Think of it as payment for
helping me out," he said.
I nodded my head in agreement, feeling somewhat like a hooker. The
Prozac was cutting through the fog in my brain finally, and the pain
was no longer pushing me to the edge of suicide. I was coping, but
barely.
So Ryan drove me to his house. It was a nice 1950s style
four-bedroom house in the College Park section of Orlando. It hadn't
been decorated much yet, but it was very nice. After we'd taken the
tour and met Ryan's playful but big two black Labs, Brandon came
home.
Brandon was a nice guy - tall, short dark hair - but a bit shy. He
barely said a word before evaporating to his room. I asked Ryan
later if Brandon was mad at something or me. Ryan assured me that
Brandon would behave this way for the first few times that he met
me. Plus, Brandon was working on a special project and probably just
getting home from putting in extra hours at work. Ryan said that if
Brandon hadn't liked me, he would have stayed out with us and glared
at me. So I guess in a strange way it was a good sign.
I slept in the guest bedroom. The next day, Ryan woke me early and
we had a quick breakfast which Brandon had fixed for us. Before 10
a.m., we were heading to Winter Park to go shopping for something
dressy casual.
I wanted to hit the main street and go window shopping, so we did. I
would have spent thousands if I'd had it. Neither rain, nor sleet,
no mind-numbing depression could fully stop a fag from shopping. I
did try to hide behind Ryan as much as possible around other people.
Ryan humored me, but kept pointing out that circuit and club clothes
weren't what I needed.
Finally, he took me to this stuffy men's clothing store. In a few
minutes, he had me dressed in a dark gray silk wool-blend sports
coat with pair of matching slacks, a dark blue silk shirt, and a
belt that cost more then most of my sweaters and jackets. He sent me
to get the jacket and pants fit while he paid. I was grateful as if
I had known the price, I'm sure I would have died from whatever it
is that makes one die when they realize how much someone has spent
on them.
I decided to buy my own shoes and he took me to some store I don't
remember, and I winced at the price but felt better that I at least
bought these. I was going to look damned good. Not that I really
cared. Without Austin there to beam his approval at me, the
compliments would seem empty.
We ate lunch at one of the small bistros that Winter Park was famous
for. We ate foo-foo food and drank a little wine and were waited on
by a very friendly gay waiter named Raymond. I was beginning to
worry about what kind of Jethro Clampett impression I was going to
make with this champagne and crumpets crowd.
Ryan was so suave in his casual assurance that they'd love me. He
smiled and said, "I know it sounds crass, but if they get to be too
much, let them know you just finished a long relationship with a
professional athlete. When they find out it was baseball instead of
tennis or golf, they'll nod knowingly as they'll have no clue about
who is who, and wonder what you're worth now."
I smiled and looked out the window at the beautiful street. My eyes
welled up as I wondered if Austin would like this place.
"I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean to cause you any pain. Let's go find
something fun to do before we have to go back and get ready for that
party," Ryan offered with an encouraging grin.
"Don't worry about it, Ryan. It happens every 10 minutes whether
someone brings him up or not ... just gonna take time if what
everybody tells me is true."
I wiped my eyes with my napkin as Raymond took Ryan's credit card up
to cash us out.
"So why are you going to this party since you obviously don't want
to go"? I asked.
"Politics," was all he said as he took a drink of his wine.
"Well, is it politically acceptable to bring a gay date to an office
party?" I asked him.
"Oh, that's not really an issue. At least a third of the people
there will be gay or lesbian. I'm bringing you to let them know I'm
gay without having to say it, and to show them what kind of guys I
prefer. More importantly, it gets you out of the house. And like I
said, with you beside me, I will be spared weeks of blind dates and
boring dinners."
We got up to leave, and Raymond brought Ryan's platinum Amex card
back to him. After signing it and leaving a tip that made Raymond
smile and thank him several times, Ryan finally asked me what I
wanted to do.
Not having any great ideas myself, I left it up to Ryan. We landed
up looking for furniture at several antique and second-hand stores.
It was an interesting afternoon and served to keep my mind off other
matters for a while. In the end, I helped Ryan carry two ornately
carved cherry end tables back to his car.
"Ryan, I have a question," I stated as we got to his car.
"Shoot," Ryan said as he turned to face me.
"Why are you doing all this for me?" I asked.
"I mean, the wonderful birthday, now a bazillion dollars for a suit
to a party. Why so much?"
His body trembled for a split second, and his shoulders slumped
slightly. He looked up briefly and saw a sign several doors down.
"Let's go get some coffee," he said, without answering my question.
He held the door open for me and walked directly to the counter and
smiled at the girl behind the counter. She smiled back with that
plastic Orlando grin.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
Ryan looked at me. "What are you having?" he asked.
I ordered a frozen cappuccino. Ryan ordered a large frozen citrus
tea. He had me pick a table outside, saying that he'd bring the
drinks to me when they were done.
I chose a small round table off to the side from the others and sat
down staring down the old streets and at the beautiful old trees. I
had barely gotten comfortable when Ryan pushed through the door with
our drinks. He set them on the table and plopped down in the chair.
He took a sip from his frozen drink and let out a heavy sigh.
"I believe I owe you a story," he began.
I took a sip from my cappuccino and nodded with a heavy undercurrent
of curiosity.
"Melissa and a few of your friends know something about me that you
don't," Ryan started. "I was ... how do I say this ... recruited ...
to help you."
I gave Ryan a funny look, but didn't say anything. What does one say
to that?
"Since my junior year in high school, I've dated an athlete," Ryan
said, pausing to drink some more of his tea. "His name is Michael,
and he played football and baseball at the university in Colorado
where my dad was the president. So, with all due respect to Glen and
Dan and your friend Michael, I have an advantage over them. I've
'been' there."
He stopped to see my reaction. What could I do? I just nodded and
waited for him to go on.
"I know what it's like to have a secret that you'd love to share but
can't. I know what it's like to love someone with all your heart,
all your mind and all your soul, keep it to yourself and not let
anyone know how truly happy you are," he stopped and looked at the
trees that I'd been staring at.
"How did everybody know you could help then if it was such a
secret?" I asked. "And why didn't you tell me this before."
"I was going to, trust me. Nobody knew. I'm probably the least
likely person they'd ask to help. I haven't lived here very long, so
nobody really knows anything about me," Ryan said. "Melissa
explained my history to Dan, and he gave a shortened version to
Glen. Glen called and asked if I'd talk to you." Ryan let his eyes
stroll from the park back to me.
"Don't get the wrong idea. It was my idea to invite you to the
dinner party. No one forced me. In fact, I was going to ask you
anyway, if Austin gave me permission, before I knew any of this had
happened. I knew it would be a good idea to get you out of the
house." He gave a wry smile and added, "And I wanted to see what you
looked like all dressed up."
"Dude ... I don't know where to begin," I said.
Ryan glanced at his watch. "We have some time."
I thought for a second of what I wanted to know, where I wanted to
start.
"OK, so how'd you meet this guy?" I asked.
Ryan smiled.
"I went to high school at the university where my dad was president.
I played on our baseball team. One day, I was standing in the
outfield and some guys from the university's baseball team were
leaning against the fence heckling me. I hit a home run in that game
and made a great throw to the catcher for an out. That kind of shut
everybody up. When I came back out one inning, there was only one
guy left. He was shouting stuff like 'Nice homer' and 'Nice throw.'
I looked over at him and he smiled at me, and I smiled back. He was
wearing these gray sweats and a cap. I really didn't think anything
of it.
He drank before continuing.
"Because we played our games at the university's stadium, several of
their players were helping us after the game. So I was helping my
best friend with the pitchers' mound, and the guy who had been
watching came up and introduced himself and asked if he could help.
I didn't realize who it was until he introduced himself. His name
was ... is Michael Waters. He was like this god-athlete. He played
quarterback for the football team and outfield for the baseball
team, and he was just amazing at both. We became friends, we worked
out together, and in spending all this time together, we eventually
learned that we were both gay.
"Michael and I spent a weekend camping and talking and getting to
know each other better. One of the things that came out of that
weekend was that we admitted that we wanted to be boyfriends. We
dated from until he graduated from college and moved back to
California. Then we talked at least two or three times a week for
more than two years until I finished school. I interviewed with
Disney at a job fair at the university. They were very interested in
hiring me when I graduated, and I told them I would work for them on
the condition that I worked in California and not in Florida. They
said, 'fine,' and I moved to California, and Michael and I lived
together until I moved here."
As Ryan drank some more I asked, "How did you go for two years
without seeing him? I mean ... how?"
"Well, that's how much I loved him. Even though we told each other
that we could date other people, we never did. Instead, we talked by
phone constantly. We saw each other at Christmas and during the
summer. Wait until you meet him. Then you'll understand. The only
reason I'm here and he's not is because this transfer was too good
to pass up. Michael's considering moving out here, but the timing
isn't right for him professionally. We're patient. We know it will
happen eventually."
I contemplated this when he was done talking.
"No one knew you guys were dating? How the hell did you keep that
quiet?" I asked.
"Well, it wasn't easy. His teammates noticed that he was doing less
with them and more with someone else, specifically a guy who at
first was in high school. They also noticed that I started showing
up at practice and stuff. We worked out together every other night
after our classes and practice. He'd drive me to my house or I'd
drive him to the dorm. Because my dad was the university president,
we lived in what was called the president's house on campus. Michael
ate at our house so much, my mom joked that his last name was really
Fuller. Melissa found out that we were dating because she caught us
together."
My eyebrows arched, and I gave him a quizzical look and said, "Oh?
You tell her or did she discover it on her own?"
Ryan grinned and said, "Our folks were out of town, and she was
supposed to be spending the weekend at a friend's condo at Aspen or
Vail. I don't remember. She came home early because there was
supposed to be a big snowstorm, and they didn't want to get stuck on
the highway and not able to get home. Our little brother, Brian, was
staying at a friend's house. So I had the house to myself. Michael
and I were watching TV. We had the fire going. We didn't have a
stitch of clothes on. We were lying on the couch, my back resting
against Michael's chest and his arms wrapped around me. Melissa
walked through the door, and you should have seen the look on her
face. Fortunately, a big blanket covered us, but she saw the clothes
piled on the floor next to the couch and realized we didn't have
anything on."
I rolled my eyes and smiled at him, "So who freaked out worse, you,
Michael or Melissa???"
He grinned and said, "She was really cool about it. She was floored
that her brother was dating Michael Waters, this big-time athlete.
She promised not to tell. And we were all grateful it was her who
found us and not Brian or my folks.
"So, you just hid for the whole time? How do you stay close when
you're not allowed to be open?"
Ryan shrugged and said, "Well, to answer your question, Michael and
I did a lot of things in public. We went out to eat, we went to bars
- straight bars at school but gay clubs when we were somewhere else
- when I was old enough, we went to movies, we went to other
sporting events together, we went skiing, we went camping, we went
hiking, we went mountain biking. What we didn't do was offer public
displays of affection. We didn't hold hands in public, we didn't
kiss in public, we didn't flirt in public. We couldn't. And let me
tell you, when you love somebody that much, it hurts not to be able
to show affection whenever you want to. Because you never know who's
watching and who recognizes you. It's the sacrifice we chose because
we both wanted to be together. It was a trade off. I got a great
boyfriend, but I had to keep that to myself"
"I wish you'd told us this before we went to Disney. H-he, might
still be," I trailed off as my eyes started to water up.
Ryan handed me a dry napkin and patted my hand as I wiped my eyes.
"I figured you were far enough away from his school it wouldn't
matter. And I had no idea he'd be that reckless," Ryan said.
"It wasn't his fault, it was mine. I'm the one who kept hanging off
him and ..." my voice trailed off.
"It wasn't anybody's fault, Alex. You were in love, and you both
acted upon that. You did what Michael and I couldn't do. If anyone
is at fault, it's the person who gossiped on you for being ignorant
and intolerant. It was probably someone who's scared of being around
people are different."
I nodded my head and tried not to start crying again. My head was
hurting trying to process all of Ryan's story as well as the
dynamics of Austin and myself.
"Anyways, my point was that no one knew about us," Ryan added.
"Except Melissa," I said softly
"Well, Michael's folks guessed but didn't say anything for about a
year. They said they could tell we were in love. When they told us,
they said they could see it in our eyes. Melissa said she knew
something was up by the way we looked at each other and acted around
each other. But let me tell you, not being able to share your love
with others is the hardest thing I've ever done. That's why I
probably act closer to 40 than I do 30. I grew up real quick, thanks
to Michael."
At that point, Ryan got up and indicated that we would walk around
the streets as we talked.
"I knew that if I wanted to keep him, and I did, that's how it would
have to be. Like I said, it's the sacrifice I had to make."
I thought about this a second before asking slowly. "So ... were you
guys ever intimate?"
Ryan laughed, "All the time, just not in public. We left town a lot.
Like I said, we'd go skiing or we'd go camping or we'd go horseback
riding or we'd go hiking or we'd go biking. We'd find reasons to
spend time away from the area. When I graduated from high school,
Michael and I spent a week at his folks' house in San Diego. They
lived in this huge house across the bay on Coronado Island. I'd
never been there before. I fell in love with the area. While I was
there, Michael surprised me with a weekend at a gay resort in Palm
Springs. It was amazing. But it was totally cool because we were
with others like us and could be ourselves. Nobody knew who Michael
was, or if they did, nobody cared. When I turned 30 a couple of
years ago, Michael took me on a gay cruise. It was one of the most
fun times I've ever had, in part because we could be who we are. You
should see some of the pictures."
I was taken out of my funk for a time, captured as I was by his
reminiscing.
"And your folks never knew?" I asked.
"Well, if they did, they never admitted it," Ryan said. "The closest
I think we ever came to getting outed to my folks was when Michael
got hurt during a football game. He had to get carted off into the
locker room. I started crying in my dad's suite at the stadium, and
he had security escort me down to see Michael. I refused to leave
his side, and he kept asking me to do little things for him. My dad
even let me stay with him in the hospital. At that point, I didn't
care if my folks knew or not.
"When Michael and I went to San Diego, his parents let us sleep
together in their house for a week as long as we promised not to
have sex while they were around. That was cool. But once they were
gone to work in the morning ... Oh my god! We decided that since
Michael's folks knew and were cool with it, we should tell me folks.
Michael was there with me. My folks were totally cool. They'd
already been treating Michael as if he was a third son. Since
Melissa already knew, I didn't have to tell her. But I came out to
Brian. He gave me a big hug and told Michael 'welcome to the
family.' Everybody was so awesome about it."
I smiled lost in my thoughts.
"My mom was cool about it when I came out. She barely lifted an
eyebrow. She'd love Austin. But his parents are so mean to him. His
father is so conservative and right wing, he'd probably never talk
to Austin again."
Ryan was silent for a moment.
"I know it's not like that with everyone. Michael and I had it
lucky. Not everyone is so fortunate. The bad news, Alex, is that
while I can totally relate to your dating an athlete, I can't relate
to your reaction to what Austin told you on the phone the other day.
Michael and I are soul mates. Like I said, wait until you meet him."
My eyes threatened to water up as his words cut me. Ryan immediately
stepped in front of me, turned to face me and held my hands firmly.
"Alex, I sense the same thing with you and Austin. You just have to
weather this storm. I know you probably don't believe me, but you'll
get through it. I wish I could tell you how quickly, but I can't.
You just have to fight through it. You can't stare at the phone, and
you can't ask 'what if we hadn't gone to Disney?' You just have to
accept what's happened and move on. Because if it wasn't Disney, it
would have been some place else. You have to live your life. What
doesn't kill you will ultimately make you stronger. You have to
believe that."
I looked up in his eyes and asked, "You really think he'll come back
to me?"
Ryan released my hands, and we began to walk again down an old brick
street.
"I can't promise that will happen. And I can't tell you when. But I
sense it, Alex. I see a lot of Michael and myself in you and Austin.
But you just can't wait around, marking days off on the calendar and
waiting for it to happen. You have to stop acting like a victim and
take charge of your life."
"I know," I said. "It's just hard for me to think clearly about
anything right now. But I ... I appreciate your help. I guess it
helps knowing I can turn to you."
"I promise, I'll always be here for you," Ryan said. "And Austin,
too, if he ever needed me."
A minute later, we climbed in his car and drove off to his place.
Once at his house, we set up the new tables in his living room. Sure
enough, they looked awesome. Then after a shower, we got ready for
the party. Despite my mood, I had to admit, I looked damn fine in
that outfit.
Ryan and Brandon gave long wolf whistles when I walked into the
living room, where they were sitting and chatting.
"Alex, you're stunning! Everyone at the party is going to think I
paid for you!"
I blushed, but couldn't help smiling and looking at myself in the
mirror. I was pretty hot in that outfit.
"You are paying for me, Ryan." I reminded him as I fingered my
lapel.
Brandon got up suddenly and said he had an important phone call to
make. A second later, he was gone. Ryan just shrugged his shoulders
and walked up behind me as I was admiring my figure in the mirror
and put his hands on my shoulder and gently pulled me back against
him.
"Screw Michael and Austin, I'm keeping you!" Ryan said with a trace
of humor in his voice.
I leaned my head against him for a moment and said, "You should know
Ryan, if anything does happen, it won't be because you're paying."
Ryan stiffened a bit and said very dryly, "Nothing is going to
happen today Alex, and if or when it does, trust me, it won't be
because I paid for it. It's way too soon for you any case."
So we let the matter drop and left for the party.
The word "party" conjures many things to my mind, fun being foremost
among these. This "party" was many things, but fun never entered the
equation.
Ryan forewarned me that he would have to make lots of small talk
with his bosses and co-workers because Disney office parties seemed
to merely serve as an extension of the regular work day. I was
introduced to several people from his office and their wives,
girlfriends and two fellow boyfriends (one gay, one not).
I finally excused myself to get a drink and wondered out to the
patio to sit quietly, stare at the night sky, escape the stifling
atmosphere inside and ponder my place in life.
"Mind if I join you?" a voice said from behind me a few minutes
later.
I turned to see a gorgeous blond walking up to me and holding a
martini.
"N-no, not at all," I stammered.
This guy was breathtaking, in his late 20s, tall, light brown hair
with blond highlights, tan, dimples, green eyes and a pair of
sparkling diamond ear studs. He wore a grey sports coat with a rich
red shirt and a silver patterned tie. A little over the top, but at
least I knew he was gay. He smiled with a set of perfect teeth
gleaming in the reflected light and stuck out his hand.
"Hi, I'm Jason Brenner. I'm here with Donald Mayo."
I gave a brief smile and shook his hand.
"Hi, I'm Alex Johnson. I'm here with Ryan Fuller."
Jason looked me over with an appraising eye that made me
uncomfortable.
"You're here with the cute new guy from California. Donald talks
about him a lot. From your accent I can tell that you're obviously
from around here. So, are you a new boyfriend or did he rent you,
too?"
I was stunned by Jason's cavalier attitude. "I-I-I'm not either, I'm
not a hustler. Who told you that?"
Then I remembered that he said, "too."
"What did you mean 'too'? Who else is a hustler?" I asked, looking
back at the party.
Jason was lighting a cigarette as he grinned and said, "Well,
technically I am, I guess. But only a few times a year."
I stepped back a bit, "Whatcha mean?"
Jason laughed, "Relax, you can't catch it from me!"
I was even more confused until I realized he thought I was moving
because of the hustler revelation. "Oh no, it's the ..." I pointed
at his cigarette.
"Ohhhhhh, sorry, I usually ask," he dropped it and stomped it out.
"Thanks, you didn't have to do that, I just hate the smell so I
usually just stay at a distance till it's done," I smiled.
"Well, you know, my line of work, I have to be sensitive to other
guys' feelings," he grinned at me like it was a joke. "Especially if
they're cute little things."
I was seriously confused. All I could do was stammer a "thank you."
Jason saw my discomfort and started to laugh an easy casual laugh.
"Relax. I'm not hitting on you, and I'm certainly not trying to get
you as a client. Fact is, I only see three clients ever. I work at
Sea World as a diver the rest of the time."
I tried to think of what to say. He moved closer after he blew his
smoke out over my head.
"I don't want most of the stuffed shirts to know I'm not Donald's
boyfriend. A few do, but only other 'family,' " he said.
"I-yuh ... I ... how? Why?" I stammered in confusion.
Jason laughed.
"I met Donald through friends when I was in college. Back then, I
depended on older gay men for a lot of my income. I didn't even have
sex with all of them, most are like Donald and just wanted to be
seen socially with a good-looking younger guy. They wanted
companionship and conversation. I traded that for money and a chance
to experience the finer things I might otherwise never get to try."
My eyes must have been bugging out.
"OK, stop looking at me like a circus freak," Jason said.
"I got to travel through Europe and all over the East Coast in
college. And I made a fair amount of money, too. Now I just see
three gentleman, including Donald a few times a year. Last time, I
didn't even charge him. Besides, I'm finishing up my MBA next year."
Jason took a drink as I digested this. I felt like I was talking to
someone from another world. I was in a way, I guess.
"Anyway, now it's more like a friendship courtesy. I've known Donald
for eight years and have been at these office parties for the last
seven."
Jason took a drink then lifted his glass at me and asked, "So what
is your story, anyways? What brought you and Leon together?"
I smiled back, "It's 'Ryan.' We're just friends. I met him last
month when he came to a party I was at. He'd moved here and didn't
know any gay guys, so his sister invited him to meet us."
When I recalled the other half of "us," my face involuntarily
dropped.
"Us?" Jason asked.
I swallowed and tried to sound the same as I continued.
"The guy I was dating then. W-w-we broke up recently," I looked down
at the ground and averted my eyes a moment. Enough unhappiness came
through in my voice to show my raw wounds.
"I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly while
placing a hand on my shoulder.
My eyes filled with tears and I looked at him and asked, "C-can we
p-please not talk about it? I-it's only been a few days."
Jason smiled at me and gave me a reassuring squeeze. Then he leaned
in close and conspiratorial and asked, "OK, so why do Disney execs
wear their neck ties and shirts so tight?"
I shrugged my shoulders as I wiped my eyes on the napkin Jason
handed me.
"It keeps the foreskin from rolling up over their faces," he grinned
devilishly.
It took a second, but when I got it, I began to laugh hard. Jason
started to laugh at me, and then I laughed even harder. It was the
first time I'd laughed in days, and I couldn't stop for several
minutes. Finally, I stopped and realized a crowd had joined us.
"I'm dying to hear what was so funny," Ryan asked as he walked up
besides me.
I thought about telling him the joke for a second. When Jason's eyes
get wide with concern, I realized that it wasn't the joke to make
friends with here,
"You had to be there, Ryan. Jason was just trying to cheer me up," I
said, wiping my eyes again.
Ryan gave Jason an odd look and then put his arm around me and asked
if I would talk to a friend of his. I turned to Jason and thanked
him for the laugh, then followed Ryan inside.
"Alex, you know who Jason is?" Ryan asked as we navigated the party.
"Your boss' boyfriend?" I answered, not knowing if knew about the
intricacies of their relationship.
"He's a hustler, Alex. Be careful with him! Brandon said he's gay
for pay," Ryan said out of the side of his mouth, even as he was
smiling and waving to some guest he hadn't talked to.
"I think he's nicer then you give him credit for, though. Besides,
he's getting an MBA soon, it's not like he'll need the money."
"Just be careful, Alex. I don't want to see you hurt by another
pretty face." Ryan said as we purposefully moved towards a small
group of people.
I was introduced and asked some polite question by the group of
women and men, especially concerning my relationship with Ryan. The
consensus was that Ryan needed to be sure and not let me go.
As we got ready to leave, Jason came up and asked me if I liked the
party.
"Well, it's better then sitting at home and crying," I smiled
warmly. "And I met a nice guy who made me laugh when I didn't think
I ever would again."
"Funny, I didn't peg you as a drama queen," Jason grinned at me.
I grinned a little and stuck my tongue out at him. "Funny, I had you
pegged as a smart ass almost immediately."
"Well, seriously Alex, before you go I wanted to give you my card.
You seem like a really nice guy, and I thought we might hang out
sometime if you want. Maybe I could invite you to Sea World."
"I'd like that Jason, though you may have to put up with some more
drama," I teased.
He gave me a quick hug and then went over to Donald. Shortly
afterwards Ryan and I left the party.
"I saw Jason give you his card," Ryan said as he was driving me back
to his house.
I felt guilty for some reason even though I had no reason to be.
"Yeah. Aside from you, he was the only person there that talked to
me. He invited me to hang out some afternoon if I wanted. It doesn't
mean anything. And even if I am an emotional wreck now, I know
enough to not fall for a rebound situation."
Ryan was quiet a moment, then simply said, "You don't have to
justify anything to me, Alex. I'm your friend and protector, not
your keeper. Like I said earlier, I just don't want to see you
hurt."
I sat for a moment trying to figure out what I felt and how to
proceed.
"Jason is a funny guy. He was supportive when he saw me break down.
He even came to check on me. I'm not planning to date him. Right
nowm I'm pretty sure I may never date again. It just hurts too bad.
But he made me laugh. All my other friends are so worried about me
slipping into some suicidal depression, they keep hovering around
like ghouls asking how I am and treating me like a cancer patient.
Maybe I need to be treated ... like a real guy and not a fragile
doll."
"I haven't treated you like a toy have I?" Ryan asked.
"No. You've not only been supportive, but it was you who brought me
to the party, explained that you could help and why, and got me out
of my house.
Thank you, Ryan."
"You're welcome, Alex. I'm here for you whenever you need help."
We were both quiet after that. It slowly began to dawn on me that
Ryan's reaction wasn't only protective it was ... possibly ...
jealousy? I turned and looked at my tall and suave friend and
watched him in the dark, the streetlights and headlights lighting
his face. He'd said several things recently that had caught my
attention.
I could only wonder what was happening to me.
To be
continued...