Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Dinner is Prompt-ly at Eight - 7. Prompt 342 - A Kiss Goodbye
Prompt 342: A Kiss Goodbye
Roy shifted, the covers seemed to be pasted to him, constricting his limbs. The night was horrifically humid and he couldn’t keep his mind from racing. The man sighed and looked at the clock, again, and now it was 4:43 am. Just when he got settled down, a creak or a rush of air would awaken him fully. ‘Where is he?’ That was the thought that kept fluttering through his brain.
The gig nights were the worst. Roy could only imagine what his boyfriend was up to. Tyler was so desirable, so dreamy that women and men threw themselves at him. Rock band members were notoriously promiscuous and that didn’t help his worries. Tyler was the worst though. He made Roy’s edgy mind tweak with the memories of those past indiscretions.
Tyler was lead guitarist of “Skull and Crossbones,” an indie rock band with a pirate’s flag as the logo. Their image was one of wild abandonment, irreverent lyrics, and no limits sexuality. Tyler was the embodiment of that. It was difficult to watch as the tall, willowy, dark haired man with the flashing hazel eyes flirted and worked the fans while Roy stood backstage and watched with gurgling envy. After a couple of choice events, Tyler had ‘uninvited’ the strawberry blonde man from accompanying him. Roy was embarrassed by his banishment. Tyler had a point. He was a bit clingy.
Finally, Roy heard the lock rattle, his senses were attuned to the slightest sound in the small, cramped apartment. He unfurled the binding sheets from his sticky torso and legs, his hairy chest and legs were matted with sweat. In the pale moonlight, he could see the flowers patterned on the fabric. They were tacky sheets he bought from Goodwill. They needed washing. Everything needed washing he realized as he slipped on thin cotton shorts over his boxers. He hadn’t done laundry in a couple of days and so he felt an urge, a compulsion to collect all his clothes and bring them to the Laundromat. It was a soothing exercise for him.
“Tyler?” he called out as he reached the doorway. The shabby apartment didn’t have any doors. It was basically a studio with a nook where he slept. “Are you home?”
Roy heard rustling in the kitchen area and the sound of a cd case opening and closing. Roy’s old computer was coming on, the whir of the fan and cheerful music as it booted up made him sad. Tyler was a drunken mess as he fumbled with the keyboard. His dark hair was askew and as Roy approached he could smell smoke and cheap women’s perfume wafting from his clothes.
“You’re so late. What happened?” Roy asked his voice whiny though he tried to hide that sound.
“Went to a party after the show. It was great,” Tyler slurred. He wouldn’t look up at Roy.
“You shoulda called. I’d have joined you,” Roy said sitting in the folding chair at the table.
“I went with a woman, a couple of them actually. You wouldn’t have enjoyed it,” Tyler said but Roy could see he was holding back a smirk. It infuriated him.
“You fucked some girl,” he said angrily. “I can smell her.”
“I fucked two girls. It was fun,” Tyler said still tapping away at the keyboard. “We’ve had this discussion.”
“What about this week, last night?” Roy asked softly. He was still watching the handsome man’s intense face as he looked something up on the computer.
Tyler stopped what he was doing and turned his face to the blonde man. “I’m omnisexual Roy. I don’t care who it is as long as it attracts me. I’m not gay. I’m not your boyfriend.”
“But last night…” Roy started crying. “I’ve been trying so hard.”
Tyler’s face grew purple. He picked up his cell phone and flung it against the wall. “For the last fucking time, we are nothing, not together. I’m moving out. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Noooo!!!” Roy cried. “Don’t do this to us. Please. Oh God no.” His insides were trying to get outside of him. It was the worst feeling though he’d had it too many times to count. “Don’t do this Ty.” Roy’s eyes settled on the shattered cell phone screen a symbol of how his heart felt.
“What about Sondra’s party tonight?”
“You told them I was your boyfriend didn’t you? Didn’t you?” Tyler’s eyes were flashing as he looked at Roy’s face, shrinking in the flickering light of the shadowy kitchen. “That’s why they all look at me funny isn’t it?”
Roy didn’t answer. His world was crashing down now, again. Tyler hated him. The whole world hated him. He wanted to crawl away and die as the guitarist stared at him with contempt. Tears fell silently down his ruddy cheeks.
“Just go to bed. I’ll be gone in the morning,” Tyler said. “Stick a fork in me, I’m done.”
Roy wanted to beg but knew it wouldn’t do any good. He slipped out of the room and into bed. Finally, his mind let him rest though he had feverish dreams until the sun came up. He couldn’t remember them but they involved Tyler and the others. They always left. Who wanted Roy? No one it seemed. That’s all the dreams suggested.
*********
Tyler was gone. Roy wandered about the apartment seeing holes where Tyler’s things had been.
There was nothing left of him but an empty crumpled pack from the guitarist’s brand of cigarettes sitting on the kitchen table next to a cd case and the now sleeping computer. He hit the power button and the old machine whirred awake. On the screen was a letter written in Microsoft Works.
“Roy,
It’s time for me to go. Thanks for all your help and the place to crash. I’m sorry I let things happen between us. It’s messed with your head. I’m not your type. You deserve better. Get over me. Meet a nice man and settle down. I enjoyed your company but the band is doing great now. It’s best if you forget me.
XO
Ty.”
- 16
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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