Life behind Hazel Eyes - 6. Father and Son-day

I woke up in Brian’s arms at around 06:00; I enjoyed being in his arms. My mind kept going over the night before; every feeling when we kissed, every touch, every word, and all the memories that came back as we lay in bed making jokes and horsing around. I could feel that what he and I had wasn’t over, we still felt strongly for one another, but I wasn’t sure whether that one night would bring us back together. Brian seemed peaceful, as he slept his eyelids appeared to conceal his thoughts and his lips urged me to kiss them. We are closer than a year and a half ago, but we are nowhere near being together. It was just one night of cuddling, with the man that took my virginity and my heart. It was a dangerous space to be in, so I thought it best to get up and ditch him. Wait, this is my house, he must leave. I let my thoughts run free for a few minutes while still watching Brian sleep. I tried to loosen his grip around my waist so I could go and make a fresh batch of coffee in the kitchen, but I seemed to waken him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Brian’s voice was a deep baritone when he awoke.

“I want to go make coffee,” I said pretending to have just woken up too.

“Stay here with me, coffee can wait,” he said pulling me into his arms and squeezing me tight. I landed in very close proximity to him, close enough for me to feel his morning wood.

“I think I’d rather get coffee, because this situation right here is getting very… uhm… hard.” I chuckled at my pun, and he managed to get the little joke I had cracked.

“He misses you, you know. You could give him some playtime.” Brian was always a good flirt, plus he could usually make something sexual seem playful. But I wasn’t about to handle any of his toys.

“He can play with your right hand while I go fiddle with the coffee machine. Or else you’ll leave here with the worst hangover,” I said trying to pull myself free from his freakishly strong grip.

“You win this time, but next time I’ll win.” He started to loosen his grip and I eyed him with a suspicious look. Did he really think he and I would end up in a similar position anytime soon? I didn’t care what he thought but I knew I wasn’t going to be caught in bed with him again, especially not engaging in sexual relations. I got up from the bed without saying anything; I put on a t-shirt before making my way to the kitchen. While there I decided to assess the main house from the window, trying to figure out who was awake and who was going to see Brian drive off so early in the morning. As I got lost in my thoughts about Brian and what was going on between us, and what had happened last night, I felt Brian slip his hands around my waist and kiss me on the neck.

“Stop it,” I said trying to push him away; instead he turned me around to face him.

“Only if I get a kiss,” he said pouting his lips to get his kiss.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend or something?” I asked with an intrusive tone.

He opened his eyes wide and looked at me puzzled. “No. Do you think I’d be here with you if I was seeing someone?” His hands had moved from my waist to the cupboard trying to find a cup.

“I don’t know Brian, it’s just that this is all so familiar and you doing all this with me brings back so many feelings. Knowing that you are going to leave in a few weeks’ time makes me cautious about things, about this.” My voice was calm when I spoke. I moved from in front of him and made my way to the refrigerator to get milk.

“I know. But I cannot escape the way I feel for you Khail. When we kiss it’s like we never hated each other. Like nothing bad ever happened. I just want to cling on to that, to the happiness.” His voice was solemn and I could tell he’d been hurting for some time now. He moved close to me and had my hand in his as he spoke.

“Tell you what, get your cup of coffee and make it out the house without being spotted by my parents and we can talk about this tomorrow over lunch. Just you, me and our feelings,” I said in a cheery voice to lighten the mood. I had just finished closing the refrigerator when he pulled me closer to him and gave me a hug.

“Trying to kick me out I see.” He joked halfheartedly. Before he could even do anything else I gave him a deep kiss, I don’t know why but it seemed right to just kiss him. Maybe it was my way of telling him I didn’t want him gone but I had no option. Or maybe it was me saying to him that I knew how he felt and I’d be there for him. But how could I be there for him? How could I stand by a man that was going to leave me in a matter of days? Was I actually thinking this through? We broke the kiss off and looked each other in the eye.

“I’ve missed you Khail. I know I hurt you, but I really missed you. I wish...” He trailed off, “You know what? Forget coffee. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” If I knew Brian the way I thought I did, he had something important to say and was using it as leverage to get me to not cancel lunch with him the next day.

“So you’re going to leave me hanging?” I said with a playful smile.

“You can come watch me get dressed, that way you get some form of entertainment out of all of this.” His smile was infectious, it had so much youth and hope in it that I couldn’t help but want to see it again. I followed him to the bedroom and threw myself on the bed. I watched as Brian got dressed and pretended to be a stripper . Every time he did or said something ridiculous he would laugh, gracing me with the beautiful smile that I loved so much. “You a total idiot, you know that right?” I said throwing a pillow at him.

“You are the only one that gets to see all of this. I’m only comfortable with you,” he said throwing my pillow back at me. “Give me a goodbye kiss?” I shook my head in disagreement, but Brian wasn’t taking no for an answer. He threw himself on the bed and tried to get his kiss, but I kept hiding my face from him. We wrestled around on the bed until he decided to tickle me, forcing me to finally give up. We kissed each other while trying to conceal our laughter. After our kiss, he got up said "Bye" and I walked him out to his car. I opened the gate for him to get out and turned to go back to the cottage, I was going to make the bed and go back inside the house and pretend I had slept in my room.

Once I was done making the bed I noticed the fresh batch of coffee I had made, so much for that. I locked the front door of the cottage and made my way to the house, sneaking in using the kitchen door. I was trying to maneuver the door to close silently, until I heard my father behind me.

“I-Ney,” he said. I-Ney is a greeting in Patois; Dad only spoke Patois with me when my mother wasn’t around. He taught me Patois growing up saying it was part of my heritage, seeing as he and my grandparents were raised in a Rastafarian community, they adopted their culture and language.

“I-Ney, Dada.” So much for pretending to have slept in my room, I thought to myself.

“Da bashment was good?” he asked letting his accent come through.

“Ya, the party was good. I really enjoyed myself.” I could see he wasn’t happy that I wasn’t responding in Patois, especially considering the fact that we hadn’t spoken to each other in what seemed like a lifetime.

“Get ready for our jog. Maybe then you can speak better.” His voice was stern and said that I was in some kind of trouble. Shit! I guess he saw Brian leave, which meant I was going to get a lecture. An early morning jog and lecture was not the best way to start the morning. But I nodded, then walked upstairs to get ready; I left my dad in the kitchen fixing us both a protein shake. I got to my room and headed to my closet and wore my gym outfit. I’d have to shower after the jog.

“Dada! I’m ready. Let's run,” I asserted as I walked into the kitchen. He was already by the door ready to sprint out of the house and into the street. I followed after him as he walked into the yard and we started warming up by stretching.

“So, how far are we going today?”

My dad’s question confused me, usually we just ran until we felt like we had enough or that we were far enough.

“Until we run out of road,” I said with a quirky smile. I seemed to cause him to snicker a bit, but his snickering stopped.

“Let’s do 10KM today. If you're up to it.” His limit seemed more like a test rather than a regular run. But I replied to him by starting my jog to the gate, he followed shortly, and with that our Sunday father and son jog was in session. After 500m of silence my father decided to break out into what I presumed to be the reason why we were jogging 10KM.

“So who was that, that left this morning?” His tone was hard to place.

“It was Brian.” I stared straight ahead of me and started quickening my pace so I would be in front of my father, escaping his scrutinising gaze.

“He was at the party too?” His question was more rhetorical than anything else. “So you too decided to make peace with each other?” My father had a very ironic undertone to the way he said ‘make peace’.

“Wait, how are you of all people not hostile about Brian and I being with each other? Last I checked you were about to hang him.” I had slowed down so I could manage to give him a scolding look.

He giggled before he gave me a reply. “Well, I could still do that, I’m sure it would be easier now than it was when he first hurt you.” I could see his eyes darken and his tone started to become more serious. “Which is why I wanted to make sure that it was him who I saw leave this morning, I want to know whether or not you are certain about what you are doing. I’m not going to sit back and watch this boy destroy you, but I will give you the space you need to make your own decisions.”

“I… He drove me home last night; I felt he was too drunk to drive to the other side of town so I offered him a place to sleep. There were no passions, just talking. We are just friends now,” I said trying to convince both him and me. But I saw my dad shake his head and remain quiet for a while.

“You're old enough to make your own decisions now, but as your grandmother used to tell me: “What sweet nanny goat a go run him belly". I could hear his concern as he said the cautionary Jamaican proverb which translated to: what tastes good to a goat will ruin his belly. In other words, the things that seem good to you now, can hurt you later. “I hear you dad. Trust me this time, I won’t do anything stupid.” He gave me a look that was comforting, patted me on the back and told me to run faster. We continued our run and talked about the party, and how business was going for him. While he was telling me about business I could tell he was disappointed with me for not pursuing a career after graduating. We had finished the 5Kilometeres away from our house, and were jogging the remaining 5KM home.

“You know what Mickey? Since you want to be creative and artistic, I’m going to allow you to organise a little intimate vow renewal ceremony for your mother and I. If you don’t enjoy it and it turns out to be a flop then I’ll stop bothering you about starting a career.” He sounded so proud of himself for his proposal; it was as if he had finally solved the biggest puzzle in his life.

“Dad, I have a degree in corporate communications and marketing, not a diploma in events management…” I was going to continue but he interrupted me.

“Organising events is a part of your job description. Besides, I’m your client, you are in charge of my corporate image and I insist that you host this event,” he said feigning seriousness which caused both of us to laugh. We were approximating the gate to our house and our pace was reduced to a walk at the point of this conversation. “Oh, and did I mention that it has to be a surprise to your mother?”

“Dad, I didn’t say yes,” I said faking annoyance.

“Will you do it if as part of your payment I included a company car, creative reign, a learning experience, love and gratitude?”

“You had me at company car.” I smiled at the idea of driving my own baby again, but then something hit me. “How are we going to explain me having a car to your wife?”

“It’s been three months now, I think you’ve proved yourself capable of being responsible, and seeing how you’ve stopped drinking, you deserve it. But of course, I’ll give you your car and everything back once we sign a contract.” The both of us laughed at the idea of my father drawing up a contract for our little deal.

Finally, we made it back into the yard. I realised how tired and sweaty I was. We walked into the kitchen where my mother was preparing breakfast.

“Boy, did your dad take it easy on you?” Mom asked, looking at me and Dad while still scrambling eggs.

“He could never, he’s too old to even run 100m without stopping twice,” I taunted and received a shove from my father as he made his way to the fridge.

“Do you want fruit juice or your proteins shake Mrs Brian?” he said.

My eyes widened, and as soon as he had finished that sentence, my mouth and heart dropped and the little life I had in me left my body. . My mother was fifty times more shocked than I was. Instead of replying, I walked out of the kitchen and went to my bedroom. Inside, I went into my en-suite bathroom. I had to take a shower, I felt so dirty from that jog. I undressed and got into my cleansing ritual. While I was i freshening up I kept thinking about how my father dropped being ‘Mrs Brian, ’ even though he knew he and I were a touchy subject. More so with the recent events, I just could not deal with my father anymore. I eventually shrugged it off, knowing my dad meant no harm. I finally finished scrubbing the sweat off my body , got dressed and started smelling like a Rogue Man . I walked down stairs for breakfast; after all I did work up quiet the appetite.

“Mickey, I’m sorry about what I said before…” As he started his apology speech I decided to cut him off.

“It’s fine Dad. I understand it was a joke, I’ll have to stop being so sensitive, ” I said getting myself a seat and getting ready to eat.

“I agree with that, but there’s also the fact that I have to be more sensitive to your feelings when it comes to him.” So, my mother had given him a lecture after I left. I could tell when my mother had coerced my father to say things, and when he said them of his own free will.

“Dad, there’s no talking with food in your mouth. Eat!” I gave him a wink and smile to let him know we were all good. Breakfast took longer than usual, Dad and I seemed to have worked up a huge appetite during our jog. It was well past eleven am when I got up and made my way to go play a game of chess with my dad.

“I hope you're ready for a thrashing, old man,” I said getting over-confident.

“You know you haven’t beaten me in a game of chess since you were ten, even then I let you win.” Dad loved pulling that card on me whenever we played chess. He and I hardly played together, but when we did it was just great quality time. Sometimes he and Mom have to share Sundays with me because the one wants us to spend more time than the other. Mom always claimed that it was best that I was gay rather than straight, she says that way she and Dad get to have both a daughter and a son. It always made me laugh that my parents had the most absurd ideas and images of what being gay was like, but I entertained them because, well, they gave me life. The mini chess tournament went on for a good hour, before I gave up on my attempt to beat my dad.

“What happened to all the smart-ass comments? Huh, son? Who beat whom now?” Dad enjoyed gloating; I have to say that was the one quality that annoyed me the most about him.

“But I let you win,” I said giving him a half–smile that was accompanied by a wink.

He shrugged and made his way to his wife. While my father left I went on packing up the pieces and arranging the board to what it had been. I sat down on the sofa in my father’s study and looked around, it was a very cosy space, but the collection of books was astounding; there was no way he had read all of them. Maybe if I started a wager with him as to who can read the most books in his collection… I tried to figure out what I could use as leverage. I knew if I won I’d want a trip to Cape Town. But if he won, what could I possibly offer? I had nothing so I let the idea die down. Besides all I had to do was make sure that I stay away from alcohol and I’d get my car back, it was just that easy. My thoughts started drifting from the wager I had imagined, to David, to Mike and Miranda, to just about everything, and that was probably when I dosed off. . As I was enjoying the view of the book as they lay on the shelves, I couldn’t help but start to day dream. It started innocently with thoughts of Miranda rejecting Marv, the way Marv told the story I could imagine my best friends’ smug smile. I started a mini list of why Randa (my nickname for Miranda) would lie about her sexuality to avoid a man. In the middle of one of my thoughts about Randa rejecting Marv, I saw David in the background. I walked towards him, he was waiting for me in a studio apartment with just a towel around his waist. That was when I drifted further into sleepy thoughts of sexy time with David, I remember the thoughts about David getting so graphic and hot that, I got hard a bit. My dream then started to get a bit weird, as David started to pound me he covered my eyes and told me not to look at him, but somehow I managed to remove his hands from my eyes. To my surprise it was no longer David sweating over me, but rather Marv. What really shocked me was that I continued to dream of him penetrating me, as I looked around the venue had changed from the studio apartment to a café. More precisely the café that he and I went to for lunch, I started to roll onto my side and it seems I did so in great time for next thing I knew all I heard was my name.

“Mikhail! Mikhail! Wake up son. It’s time for us to go to dinner with the Boucher’s.” I must’ve been really tired, because my father had to shake me vigorously before I even heard him.

I rubbed my eyes and looked down at my phone to see the time. It was 17:00, and I rushed upstairs to get dressed for dinner with Miranda and her family. I’d hate to arrive late at Miranda’s house, arriving late meant that she and I wouldn’t get the chance to have a talk about our goings on . When I got to my room, I freshened up in such a rush, grabbed the first pair of pants and t-shirt in sight, and got ready to leave. I looked a bit too ‘straight-boy’ chic for my liking. I wore a white baseball t-shirt, black sweatpants, a white snap back and a pair of Jordan’s. I looked too damn straight, but I had no time to be looking for things to wear. I walked briskly down the stairs taking them two at a time.

“Are you two ready?” I asked 'the parents' as I stood in the doorway of the living room.

“We were actually waiting for you sleepy head,” Mom joked. They both got up and came to the door. Locked it, and then we made our way to my best friend’s house. I enjoyed spending time with Miranda and her family. They are great people to be around. As excited as I was to talk to my darling friend, I feared how much she would judge me for having spent the night with, you know Brian. It was bad enough that I had received a lecture from Dad. Besides, he cannot be that bad for me, considering that he made me remove that ridiculous septum ring. What was I thinking getting it anyway? Brian was back to make me feel special again, and the night we spent together made so much sense to me.

Thinking about Brian and how much Miranda would judge me for spending time with him had distracted me from our journey, and before I knew it we were three blocks from Miranda’s home. Mom and Dad were so engulfed in their conversation about a family picnic for the following Sunday, that they hadn’t even noticed my silence. I didn’t mind though. We arrived at the Boucher residence, which was more like palace, with an hour to spare.

Let me give you a quick rundown of the place; it is a Bali inspired house, it has a double volume design which opens to the entrance hall from where the lounge and dining room flow, with an 'open out' where there are folding doors to an extensive undercover patio overlooking the sparkling pool and featured wooden decking in an well-established garden. The garden has water features that are even more beautiful to look at, at night. ‘Randa and I used to prank her younger brother, Jonathan, by hiding his PlayStation games in the garden so we could use the main lounge area. The lounge is spacious with a modern interior layout that Mrs Boucher probably had nineteen interior decorators discuss; it also inter-leades to a bar which also opens to the patio for easy entertaining. There’s also a fabulous downstairs guest suite with full en–suite bathrooms; it’s strategically positioned directly off the hallway for privacy. I had also discovered that down a flight of stairs was a super spacious and versatile basement room that Mr and Mrs Boucher transformed into a Cinema. Miranda’s bedroom was the one furthest from the east, because she rejected the sunrise and its rays waking her up. She said it (the sun) cramped her morning rest. The building is approximately 670 m², and just a gorgeous hybrid of architecture and great interior design. Miranda and I enjoyed hiding behind the staff headquarters at the back for our intimate conversations. But ever since Miranda got her own place, we only get to do such when our parents decide that they need to have a tea party. Every inch of that house had memories of Randa and me just causing mischief and sneaking around. It’s easier to cause trouble in a big house that lives four people in it.

Her family gets their fortune from Mr Boucher’s mining career; inherited 25% shares of a platinum mining company from his grandfather but by the time he was old enough to claim his shares he’d already obtained a degree in economics, so he went into working for most of his money. Mrs Boucher on the other hand deals with corporate branding and communications, she generally travels around to different cities and does restructuring of management and ensures effective communication. She says it’s daunting, but I found it exciting, from the outside looking in, that is. Why wouldn’t anyone enjoy a fabulous career in traveling the world and telling people how to behave? I sure as hell would sign up for that.

We parked the car in the driveway and made our way to the main entrance where Jonathan greeted us.

“Evening Mr and Mrs Lucas, I haven’t seen you both in a while now.” Jonathan sounded too eager to suck up to my parents, that and it annoyed me. So, I moved briskly past him and started to make my way to Miranda’s old room where I knew she’d be. As I was darting up the stairs I heard someone call my voice.

“Good Evening to you too Mikhail,” Mrs Boucher said in a feigned reproach, she even had her hands on her hips. She knew too well that whenever I arrived at her house she and her husband would probably see me when I was on my way out, and never when I walked in or when wandered around.

“Hey Lady C, how have you been darling?” Sometimes I sound too fabulous for my liking. I speak in a somewhat melodic way, almost as if I am about to sing the words I say.

“I’ve been good darling. You don’t pop by anymore, you act as if Miranda is your only reason to say hello.” Her tone was a cheerful one, the one she always uses with us.

“Between being a housewife and pretending to be a talented Broadway star I just never seem to be able to fit in time to visit my adoring public. But I’ll pencil you in darling.” I pretended to flick my fringe and blow smoke in the air as I spoke, which led both of us into unified laughter.

“Go on. Go find your trouble-maker friend,” she said in between laughs.

I continued to run up the stairs as Mrs Boucher made her way to the kitchen. I barged into Miranda’s room and found her on her old PC watching a series.

“I think you’ve watched that series enough to act out every scene by now,” I said as I closed the door and made my way to her bed.

“I think you’ve been here long enough to know you never barge into my room,” she retaliated in a playful spirit.

“I’ve already caught you masturbating before, so it won’t be a big deal if I catch you again,” I said as I climbed onto her bed.

“Anyway, what do you want? We don’t open the soup kitchen until next Monday,” she joked as she got up and threw herself on her bed.

“I want you to tell me why I got a text from a certain man telling me you are lesbian.” I saw her eyes roll before she hid her face and started to blush.

“I should’ve known he’d ask you or tell you what happened.” She used a pillow to cover every part of her face but her mouth; I kind of suspected that she was still red. “It’s really stupid. I just don’t like him, and he clearly thinks of me in as eye-catching and in a sexual way.”

“Who told you that?” I interjected.

“BITCH!” she exclaimed as she threw her pillow at me. “He leaned over to kiss me as he dropped me off at my place, after the party the other day. He’s cute and all, but I prefer Mike. The tall, dark, mysterious, and quite guy.” This time she didn’t blush, instead there was an air of great confidence as she spoke. She blushed when she knew she was being ridiculous, but every other time she was sure of herself.

“So you tell him you gay?” I quirked my eyebrow as I asked.

“Yes, because that’s the only way he’ll stop. I think Mike knows that he can come claim my body, and only he can claim it. Your friend, he can stick to those young university kids.” Miranda rolled her eyes and shooed Marvin away as if he were there.

“So you're hoping, by some miracle, that he won’t tell Mike you are a muff-diver?” I asked.

“You ask too much! Just shut up and watch me get Mike, just like I watched you get David.” Oh my goodness, when she mentioned his name I felt a sharp pang in my gut. I guess it must have shown because she immediately grabbed my shoulder and asked what was wrong.

“So he and I did it, right…” I started but got interrupted by Miranda.

“No shit Sherlock,” she said pulling a strange face.

“For someone who’s so old, you sure act very childlike,” I responded.

“Shut up and tell me about David,” she requested as she playfully pushed me.

“It was fun, but at the end the condom broke and he came in me. I’m kinda scared. What if he isn’t clean? It’s not like I can go get tested now. The window period isn’t over.” I felt Miranda hug me and rest her head on my shoulder.

“You know what? We’ll get you tested once three months is up, give me your phone and I’ll set a reminder. No matter what the day is we’ll go together and we’ll work it out together. There’s no use in panicking now. There’s a possibility he doesn’t have anything.” I heard a comforting and caring tone in Miranda’s voice and it made me happy. It comforted me that at such a time I could talk to someone who would be there for me.

“Thanks babe, that means a lot to me. Kisses?” I asked as I looked down at her.

“Hell no, I only said I’m lesbian to get Marv off my back.. Don’t try pulling that shit on me,” she said as she pushed me away from her and started walking over to her computer to play some music. While she walked over she told me about how rough her week at work had been and that was why we couldn’t catch up much. I told her it was fine because I too had been preoccupied. I didn’t dare mention Brian, because I was scared of what she was going to say. My biggest concern is that the woman I love most hates the man I’m in love with and vice-versa. Brian and Miranda just didn’t see eye-to-eye. Miranda thinks Brian is an opportunist and he thinks Miranda is a spoiled daddy’s girl who always gets what she wants. So, I made sure our conversation stayed as far away from Brian as possible.

“So what happened to your septum ring?” She asked casually.

“Well, I got over it. I feel like it has served its purpose.” I tried to play it cool as if removing my septum ring was truly my idea.

“So, that means you're over Brian.”

“Say it with less enthusiasm next time,” I said without realising how my tone turned from playful to acidic. Miranda stared at me for a while without saying anything.

“What happened to your septum ring? More specifically what happened at Kylie’s party last night?” Her tone was a bit harsh this time, this was exactly what I was trying to avoid. But I got into it; I told her everything from the day of the phone call up until that very morning when Brian left my place. Her face turned from one pained expression to another to sheer disgust. By the time I was done recounting the tale of Brian and Mikhail, I had seen every emotion that her face could show.

“You know how I feel about him. I swear this time you’ll end up killing yourself over him. He’s sheer poison. I don’t get what you see in him. You know you frustrate me right? You could have any guy you wanted, but you choose him! That… Oh goodness.” She paused for a minute and got up from her desk and moved to sit next to me again. “Babe, think about the last time. Don’t think about the six years before. Think about the lies, the way he treated you before, and after he told you about getting some girl pregnant. He’s going to keep disposing of you when someone new comes and you’re worth more than that. Don’t go back to him.” Miranda’s tone was calmer and affectionate now; I could hear the concern that adorned her words. I’d be stupid not to consider her opinion especially since she was the one who saw me at my worst during the break up.

“I know. I haven’t had time to think about it…” I was starting on my point as she interrupted.

“Think about the fact that he moved from this city to another?” She said bitterly.

“He moved to Durban, it’s approximately a few hours away. It’s not like he moved to Thailand or America” I had a smile as I realised that both of us were grasping at straws trying to protect people we loved.

“Think about it. Is he really worth the sleepless nights? Because I can tell you now that he’ll have you tossing and turning, over whether he's with some skank or not.” Up until that point in time I hadn’t thought about that angle. I was so focused on how fuzzy he made me feel on the inside that I forgot all about how insecure he made me.

“Come, let’s go smoke outside then go have dinner. I’ll be damned if he ruins our time together.” I heard the playfulness, which I loved, return to my lovely friend. We got up from the bed and made our way downstairs to the covered patio where no one was. Once outside we surveyed it for a smoking spot, and finally found one behind the waterfall that was dividing the five big trees in the garden and the little lake. We lay on the grass and smoked a cigarette and waited a good thirty minutes before we returned into the house. Outside we sat and made fun of each other and talked about everything but Brian. It felt so good being with Miranda; she made everything seem so much better. For a few minutes I existed outside of my own world.

The rest of the evening was uneventful; both families sat around the table and exchanged stories about how horrible their week had been. Miranda’s parents loved to entertain, so whenever people were there, they’d end up leaving only at around 22:00, and that evening was no exception. At times I found myself dosing off, but Miranda would find a way to wake me. After in-depth conversations on the economy, politics, environmental issues and whatever else is under the sun, we finally made it out of their home.

On the drive home Mom and Dad were more serious than on our way to dinner. They hinted at me getting a job, and how it better happen soon because of the way the economy was. I remained unbothered by them and instead focused on the city lights as we drove by various buildings. I couldn’t wait until I got out of the car and get into my bed. But we were still twenty minutes away from our house. All I could think about was sleeping and how hectic my rehearsal schedule was going to be that week. The musical was in a weeks’ time and I felt unsure about myself. For twenty minutes all I could think about was what could go wrong to hinder my performance, and surprisingly I imagined a lot.

We finally arrived home and I went straight to my room, after hugging 'the parents' good night. Upstairs in my chamber I undressed with haste, and as I took my phone out of my pocket I realised I had a message. I put my phone down on my bedside table and ignored the message. I finished undressing and crept into my bed. I lay very still and silently, I contemplated reading the message, then chose not to. After ten minutes I reached for my phone and read the damn thing.

“I haven’t heard from you since I was in your bed. Give me a call sometime.” The message came from David. I read it twice just so I could understand what was going on. Thereafter I shut my phone off, climbed out of my bed and walked over to my medicine cabinet and got a few sleeping pills. I walked back to my bed and slept within seconds of resting my head.

Men can wait; I need to perform at my best in ten days’ time.

Sorry for the hiatus guys but I had a roller-coaster experience. But I'm back and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please do excuse the length. Thank you all for reading and I appreciate all your reviews and comments, they keep me motivated. AL darling, I'm sure I say this all the time, you are a life saver :-* Lots of love.