Bad Stereotypes - 20. Tuesday 16th July 2013

Zoltan was grinning like a child when he showed up at the bar with his brother. I eyed Zupan carefully as I poured a fruit cider for Thorn and took her money for the drinks. I really wanted Darren to have to serve them, but he was mixing something toxic looking for a trio of gothic suits who still hadn’t gone home from their day jobs. I hadn’t actually spoken to Zupan since before I’d started dating Issac, and somehow, knowing that his reckless driving and meathead attitude were the reasons that my boyfriend had a bionic leg… well, even if they had all forgiven each other, it felt weird to me.

“Evening.” It was a standard greeting even if it was really clipped, “What can I get you?”

“Oh I see,” Zupan’s condescending tone made me clamp my jaw straight away, “You’re going to act like you don’t know us now is it?”

“I’ll have a corona please Bay. My brother,” Zoltan kicked Zupan’s chair, making the bolts rattle, “Will have a JD and coke.”

I got the drinks ready in record time as Zoltan leant his massive tattooed forearms on the bar. He was still grinning like an idiot.

“What made you so happy?” I asked as I pushed his beer at him. Zoltan thumbed the lime into the bottle neck, making the amber drink froth.

“Oh you know,” He made a vague gesture with one hand, “I like to be the bearer of good news.”

“You sure it’s good news Zol?” Zupan grinned at his twin in a way I didn’t much like, “He might need us to go with him. Again. The little one might get scared.”

“Oh shut up Zu.” Zoltan swatted at his brother, “It’s still a secret. Heya Rose.”

I distracted myself with wiping down the bar, but when I next looked up, Zupan was still sitting there, looking smug.

“The fuck do you want Wheels?” I snapped.

“Oohh,” Zupan made his voice unnaturally high and camp, I gritted my teeth, “Bay-boy can dish it out but he can’t take a good jab huh?” When I didn’t reply, Zupan wheeled a little bit closer until his feet touched the bar, “You’d better believe that if you hurt my boy, there will be no amount of surgery that will fix you.”

I felt my fingers tighten around the edge of the bar. All the things I wanted to say boiled up in my mouth and made my throat tight. How dare he say that Issac was ‘his boy?’ How dare he threaten me when his recklessness had destroyed Issac’s leg? How could he think to provoke me, taunting me about Issac? About this wonderful lovely thing that we had together? I hated him. And it showed. I swallowed.

Zupan smirked and rolled himself over to join his brother.

At eleven, my phone buzzed with a text from Issac. I grinned excitedly, but frowned when I saw the message.

Service done. Coming over to get you babe xxx

Zoltan’s tattooed fist bumped on the bar.

“Of you go Bay.”

“Huh?”

“Your man sent me to tend bar for you and close up so he could take you out.” Zoltan grinned, “Go get changed, you’re going clubbing.”

“But…Dale…” I gaped at Zoltan, but he grinned.

“It’s all cleared. Surprise. Go change Bay. Your boyfriend is going to be here in like, three minutes.”

I stood staring at Zoltan for like another thirty seconds before dashing up the stairs. I stripped off my shirt, washed the exposed bits of myself and put on my only aftershave. I liked the man in the Old Spice advert. I had one white t-shirt, so I put that on, and grabbed my favourite red and black checked shirt, did it up halfway and rolled up the sleeves over my elbow. I put some random texture stuff in my hair that I’d picked up at the barbers and then I was done checking my appearance. My phone buzzed as I raced downstairs.

Issac was standing in the bar, looking every inch like the man of my dreams in a blue shirt with white piping and black pearl snaps and fitted black jeans. He has his thumbs tucked in his pockets and when I saw him, my heart gave this great big thud. Issac grinned at me, a sexy little grin that I could resist. Not for the first time, I felt proud to call him my boyfriend. I crossed the space in four long strides, pushed my hands into his hair and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

The continued wolf whistles broke us apart, and I blushed.

“I missed you too,” Issac swiped at my bottom lip with his thumb, “You ready to go?”

“Oh yeah,” I was still grinning, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at Zoltan or Darren as I left.

My happiness was replaced quickly with dread as we approached the front door of the club. I was reminded of home, of the street on the water where giggles and high pitched yells abounded as the flamboyant mingled in and out of the night time. I gripped Issac’s hand hard as a group of skinny guys with coiffed hair passed us by. I practically sneezed as their mingled perfume invaded my sinuses.

“Issac?”

His arm was warm around my shoulders.

“I know you’re a metal-head at heart, but give the music a go yeah? It’ll be fun.” He smiled at me, and I was helpless to resist. I had to show ID at the door, which was annoying but not surprising. I looked my age. I wished I was taller.

The club was heaving, and the music set my teeth on edge. What was it about gay guys that made them instantly develop a love for drum ‘n’ bass and the dubious vocal talents of Madonna? I groaned as I followed Issac towards the bar, pleased that he couldn’t hear me.

“I’ll get the drinks. Go wait for me by the balcony yeah?” A quick kiss on the cheek, a hand on my hip. I smiled to humour him and wondered how often I could avoid getting away with this torture. I leant back against the railing and stuck my thumbs in my pockets, resting on my elbows. I wished that I’d worn something less appropriate, more black, I looked a little bit like I belonged and I hated that. There were others guys in shirts like mine, paired with skinny jeans and somehow they all managed to make a shirt and trousers looked effeminate. I really hoped I didn’t look too much like them. It would suck to grow up to look like the guy who’d looked like me in the car park. At least I wasn’t wearing pink. Or glitter.

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” I turned to look at the speaker by my elbow. He was about my height with a big Justin Bieber floppy fringe and clothes that looked like they might have been spray painted on. I instantly didn’t like him, “My name’s Justin.”

“I’m Bay.” I wished I had a drink already so I could sip it and avoid talking. I searched for Issac at the bar, but he was still at the bar.

“Well I figured that,” there was the little girly nuance in his voice that made my skin itch, “Me too. What’s your name pretty one?”

Ah, shit.

“Bay. It’s my name.” I growled. What kind of person would use their sexuality as an opening line? “And I ain’t pretty.” I lifted myself from the railings and stalked over to the bar, pleased at least that I’d worn my army boots and didn’t care about stepping on anyone’s toes. I reached past Issac and grabbed the drink I assumed was mine and necked it. Whiskey coke never tasted so good.

“Bay?” Issac was looking at me with a worried expression as the barman poured another drink into the glass I’d slammed down, “Everything alright?”

“Fucking peachy,” I muttered. Then I realised how much of a dick I was being, “Sorry Issac. Not good with crowds.” When he raised a sceptical eyebrow I hated myself for the lie, “Yeah, and I work in a club, it’s ridiculous.”

We took our drinks away from the bar and I saw Issac looking longingly towards the dance floor. A song came on that made everyone squeal with joy and some queen yelled ‘Pink!’ like right in my ear on his way to the floor. Issac grinned at me.

“Oh no.”

“Bay…”

“I can’t dance to this. There’s no guitars.” I took his half a drink from him, “You go. I can’t watch your sexy self and think about all the things I’ll do to you later.”

Then it was his turn to blush.

Watching Issac dance was fascinating, even if I wanted to plug my ears while he so. His feet stayed perfectly still, but from the hips up he moved like the music was being played on his bones. Issac moved and gyrated and danced in a way that made my loins stir. Every time he looked my way, I had to grip my glass to stop from going to his side. Issac danced like he was born too it, and other people noticed.

“Oh my god. He’s gorgeous.” Some little blond hair scene-boi was clinging to his friend and drooling over my boyfriend, “God Billy, do you think I should ask to dance with him?”

When the boy with eyeliner and frothy hair took a step forwards, I put a hand on his shoulder and gripped hard.

“Do not ask to dance with him.” I checked the boy up and down, and I didn’t like what I saw.

“What’s it too you?” Billy, the friend, was looking like he wanted to square up to me. He was taller, but one look at his skinny put-together look didn’t worry me in the slightest. He cared way too much about his hair to get in a real fight.

“He’s mine.”

“Then why aren’t you dancing with him?” the scene-boi piped up, hands on hips.

“Not my music.” I didn’t feel much like shouting over the wailing and synth, “Fucking camp shit.”

“And you call yourself his boyfriend?” the sentence was about the most camp thing I had ever heard. I snapped. I couldn’t run away, so I shoved him. Scene-boi kid when sprawling into his friend and both of them staggered hard. I started after them, one big stride forwards, and then I felt a strong hand around my bicep.

“Bay…” Issac’s eyes were dark and hard and he looked really angry, then he looked past me, like I didn’t even matter, “Sorry about that guys. Let me buy you a drink yeah?” Issac pushed money into my hand and shoved me in the direction of the bar, “Not one fucking word OK?”

I had never felt more shamed in my life as I walked to the bar. I ordered whatever the special was, handed the barman money like an automaton, and returned with the drinks without making eye contact with anyone. Not dancing and not liking Pink were one thing, but having my boyfriend pull me away from nearly beating up a guy just for talking in a high pitched voice. That was a new low. I wanted nothing more than to break and run, but about halfway down their drinks, chatting in a happy and distracted manner, Issac put his arm around my waist and snuggled me against his side. I stayed shtum.

We left around two, arm in arm, and as we approached the flat, Issac’s grip changed slightly.

“Bay?”

“Yes?”

“You need to get more tolerant babe. That was fucking embarrassing.”

“Will you still stay with me tonight?” I sounded like a needy kid, and I hated that, but I couldn’t stand to think of him leaving.

“Of course I’ll stay. I love you.”

I smiled up at the man I called my boyfriend and wished I could erase what had happened earlier. Next time, I would dance with him ,regardless of what was playing.

“I love you too.”