Life behind Hazel Eyes - Prologue. What Marvin Sees

Our eyes lingered for the longest of times. I swear, I’ve never had a man intimidate me like this; especially not a feminine gay man. Mikhail was different. He knew sports and knew everything when it came to politics, and it seemed that his knowledge was expanding by the day. The best part about him was that he partied hard. I only got to know him for quite some time now, and each time he’d drag me to a party and we’d party more than the last.

Mikhail Lucas stood 1.8m tall. He was a twenty-two-year old black man with a caramel brown complexion that seemed to glow whenever the sun-rays touched it, his face was perfectly smooth and his skin was just a combination of nature and constant moisturizing. Mikhail had an outgoing personality that couldn’t be tamed; if he felt like saying it, you would hear it. And that’s what I admire about him.

You see, Mikhail and I met through a friend, well my ex-girlfriend. She’d been telling me about her best friend and how he loves sports, and I kept getting jealous that some nigga was spending more time with my girl than me. Even though she kept telling me that he was gay I wouldn’t believe her; girls get sneaky and say ‘Oh he’s my gay best friend,’ and I wasn’t going to buy her bullshit. That was why I had to invite them both over for the Rugby World Cup Final match with myself and my homeboys. If this nigga was gay I would see it and if not, even better. Then I could end what had become a long, drawn out processes anyway. Lisa was a cool chick, but shit she got annoying. She deliberately did things that annoyed me and lately she’s developed this habit where she would walk up to me and start whining in my ear and tickling me. This one time she annoyed me during a soccer match when she came up behind me and was like, “How about you take me now and that will be your score, champion.” I got turned off by her so badly.

So the day of the match came. All my friends had already arrived Lisa kept talking about how horrible the team uniforms were, how stupid rugby was, and at that point I could’ve grabbed her phone and called Mikhail to come fetch her! Instead of calling Mikhail I opted for sending her to go buy drinks at the liquor store, giving her my car keys and my wallet. She jumped at the opportunity to get away from sports and sports talk.

“Dude, when are you dumping that girl? “ David asked, once he heard Lisa pull out of the driveway.

“I don’t know how man. I need—“

“You need to grow a pair of balls, that’s what you need,” Mike interrupted as I spoke.

“Let’s stick to rugby, man. I ain’t got the energy to talk about this,” I spat in a tired and disgruntled voice. As if it were a seal to end the conversation, the doorbell rang. I got up and walked over to the door. When I opened it, a tall man with a Miguel Jontel inspired hairstyle and hazel eyes stared back at me.

“Hey, is this where I can find a Lisa Donald or Marvin Voile?” the stranger said in a calm but alluring voice. I didn’t know whether he was flirting or if this was his general tone, so I looked at him puzzled. Before I could respond he quirked his eyebrow and said, “I guess not then,” and started to walk away.

“Wait. You must be Mikhail, come in. I’m Marvin. I’m sorry for that, I just didn’t expect you so soon. Lisa just went to get booze and I’m sure she’ll be back in a bit.” I said this ushering him into the living room where the only thing anyone could see were three grown men chilling in shorts and tight rugby shirts defining every muscle they had been working on since high school. I introduced everyone, and they all shook hands. David was reluctant to shake Mikhail’s hand, because he’s a major homophobe. He's literally scared of feminine gay guys, like this one time we went shopping and a sales assistant came up to offer us assistance, but he just crept away and stood in a corner far from the poor guy. I apologised for his behaviour, and that was that. Mikhail sat on the couch David was on and I saw my friend clench up.

“So Mikhail, Lisa was telling me that you were going to be late. Something about a Broadway show you are in and rehearsals running long,” I said trying to divert the attention from David’s tense body language.

“Rehearsals ended for me. I left the rest of the cast rehearsing choreography that I am capable of doing in my sleep. Naturally, I had to perform the whole thing to prove that I’ve perfected everything and could go home early.”

After hearing him speak I had come to the conclusion that he had a naturally flirtatious way of speaking. His voice was low and husky and it came out almost too composed, yet there was something in it that gave away his eccentricity for what I believed was just a show 'togetherness'.

“So, what is this production about?” I was determined to get all and every bit of information about this guy out in the open just to prove whether or not he was gay.

“Well, it’s a musical about a schizophrenic drag queen that was cast out by his friends and family, and now he lives at the train station waiting for the right train to come and end his misery.” His voice was a little more composed this time to emphasise the sadness of the play. And I wondered if it were all fake.

The guys had removed their eyes from the television set and decided to pay all their attention to the conversation that was now taking place. It was clearly much more interesting than the pre-match build up. From the corner of my eye I could see David's tension begin to ease up.

“So, what’s your character?” Sipho decided to blurt out.

“Haven’t you guessed by now? Darling, I’m the STAR of the show!” He said the word ‘star’ in a louder voice to emphasise just how dramatic he truly was. The fellas let out a good laugh and started to warm up to Mikhail, and just as the questions started to come in, so did Lisa.

“Darling you’re here. OMW! Come let’s get you dressed, you look like a rundown mess, but your hair is fabulous.” Just like that, the two of them disappeared into the bedroom and were locked in there for a good 45 minutes. I was starting to panic that this nigga was fucking, my girl in my room, in my house.

“Nigga, there’s no way that Mikhail isn’t gay,” David said putting his hand on my shoulder.

This should’ve reassured me, but it didn’t. I had to go check up on them. I went to the bedroom door, took in one deep breath before I opened it to see Mikhail seated on my bed, in his underwear, with Lisa beside him straightening his hair. “You guys coming or what? The match is about to start,” I asked all nonchalant.

“Marv, I understand your concern,” Mikhail said. “But honestly I need to get dressed, unless you want me to walk around your house half-naked. I’m sure David would bust a nut at that image, but the others wouldn’t be so comfortable.” He said that so chirpy I couldn’t help but laugh. On my way to the living room I couldn’t get Mikhail’s insinuation out of my mind. Did he think that Dave was gay? That was impossible. David was scared of gay men; he’d never speak about them or even look in their direction on the street. He could never be gay! NEVER!

The two 'ladies' came out and joined us, each grabbing a drink on the way. David moved to squeeze in with Sipho and Mike, and the 'women' took over the loveseat. That left me alone in an armchair, trying to hide my chuckles.

“Yo Mikhail, was your hair like that when you got here earlier?” Mike asked almost bewildered.

“Well, I don’t know what you are asking. Yes my hair was straightened when I walked in here earlier, and yes it’s my natural hair. It’s not my fault the texture of my hair is great for this haircut.” Mikhail replied without even looking at Mike, instead he looked at Lisa and ran his fingers through his hair; it was as if the whole talk bored him.

“No, I meant did you have grey streaks when you came in,” Mike added, as he face-palmed himself. Face-palming had become a gesture Mike used whenever he felt that a person was intentionally being difficult.

“Yes. It’s Ice grey. You shouldn’t try it. It would be disastrous. I only have it for the production, after the production I’m going back to black hair.” His voice was playful and he pronounced every single word like it was new to him, a word he had just discovered.

Just then as if to silence us, the national anthems of both countries started to echo and everyone became quiet.

The first half of the match was gruelling and had more fouls and injuries than the First World War. During half time we all got up and had a chance to get food and mingle with one another. It was a really good evening, and at this point I was sure of two things: one, Mikhail was gay! And two, because Mikhail is gay and isn’t fucking Lisa, I have no reason to dump her. Ergo, I’m stuck with her. I was mad that my way out turned out to be a dead end.

As everyone gathered in the kitchen and was getting food, I saw Mikhail disappear to the bathroom. I took this opportunity to crack an offensive gay joke I had heard earlier in the week. Apparently my joke was so funny it had David wanting to go pee frantically, so we let him.

Standing here now, staring him in his hazel eyes, I wonder how we got into this position, and what all happened to Mikhail in my bathroom the night of the rugby match.'