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    Sam Wyer
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

All About Jake - 8. And I’ll never have that recipe again

Hey people :)  So here it is, the next little update.  Let me now what you think.

Returning to University in January, things were actually much harder than I liked to admit. Not the work, that was all OK, enjoyable even. But after the all round perfect few days over Christmas, I was missing my family a lot. And Jake, well, I struggle to describe how much my heart hurts when I’m without him. It felt as though it was actually more difficult this time around than when we were first away from each other. I suppose that the first time, I had the relative luxury of not knowing how hard it would be. Whereas now, I knew exactly how shitty it was. We were talking a lot, and he seemed to be doing OK, really well actually, so I tried not to give away how difficult I was finding things. We didn’t have any explicitly planned time together for another few months when it would be Easter, but as we approached the end of January there was an unexpected opportunity.

“So the weekend after next, I’ve had a performance thing re-arranged, and I can probably miss a rehearsal, so I could actually have the whole weekend off.”

“No way? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a stupid gig on the Friday night, I’m just doing a favour for a friend, and that’s it.”

“So… can I come up and see you?”

“Well duh! Why do you think I’m telling you? You’ve said enough times you want to come up.”

“Oh my god, this is so cool Jake!”

“I though you might be happy.”

I could hear him smiling, and it felt great.

“Maybe I could even come on the Friday night? What’s the gig? I could come and watch.”

“Ha ha, yeah, I don’t think you’ll want to though.”

“Why, what is it? More classical stuff?”

“No! It’s… OK, the thing is, this guy, he’s… how do I say this… he’s… she’s called Dolly Summer, it’s a drag tribute thing.”

“What?”

“I know, but a friend of mine is in his band and they asked me to cover this one night for them. It’s kinda fun actually.”

“Right. Oh, I get it, like Donna Summer?”

“Yeah, exactly. Wow babe, you know the name of someone who wasn’t born after 1995! It’s exactly like Donna Summer. Except he’s a guy, and not black, though he does have a pretty good voice.”

“Hmmm, OK, I’m going to give it a miss. But still, we get a whole weekend!”

“Yeah baby, see, it’ll be cool.”

We chatted for a while longer, but it was all sorted, and I couldn’t wait. Somehow, knowing that I was going to be seeing my Jake again in a couple of weeks made everything seem so much better, or at least, easier. Greg and Kasper both noticed, which worried me slightly because I didn’t think I’d been that down, but still, just two weeks to go.

As I was booking my train tickets I decided to go up on the Friday anyway. I could miss a lecture for once, and terrible gig or not, I really didn’t want to miss a night with Jake. So it was all booked, with the bonus of a surprise extra night for us together. Seriously, time could not move fast enough!

The journey is just over seven hours on the train, and because I needed to save some money on the tickets, I still wasn’t going to get in until late into the evening. But that’s a small price to pay. I’d managed to google the venue for the gig - surprisingly there aren’t many gigs featuring Dolly Summer, so it was actually pretty easy, and a short enough walk from the station. I’d taken an overnight bag, but figured I probably won’t be needing very much. The place was surprisingly big, and busy. My guess is that it’s not a full time gay bar, but clearly it was popular. I bought myself a beer and found somewhere to stand by the bar, not wanting to disturb people by trying to find a seat. As gay bars go, and yes, I’ve only been to about three, it wasn’t so bad. The show was in full flow, and Jake looked to be having a great time up on stage. He was playing keyboards and there was a drummer and a guitarist too, as well as the great Dolly, obviously. I’d hoped that it would be nearer to the end that it turned out to be, but still, I got to admire my beautiful man, so not a total loss. And actually, Dolly wasn’t terrible at all.

‘Someone left my cake out in the rain, I don’t think I can take it, because it took so long to bake it’

Yeah, if you can make that sound like a heart felt, emotion fuelled statement, with added camp disco, you’ve got to have some talent.

After probably at least two too many encores or various sorts, the show was over, and Jake disappeared off stage with the rest of the band. I got another beer as I waited, but it wasn’t long before he appeared out of another doorway, just at the other end of the bar. Of course, he wasn’t expecting me to be there, so he didn’t look around for me or anything, and I could feel myself smiling with stupid uncontrollable excitement, like a kid who knows a secret and is just totally unable to contain it.

Then something weird started to happen. Everything felt strange, like, slightly dream like, as if I was being forcibly distanced from reality just a little. It felt very weird and I wondered if I was having a brain haemorrhage or by beer had been spiked or something.

But there was Jake, so everything would be fine, any moment now. Oh god, how I missed him so fucking much. I started to walk over towards him, but it felt more like an out of body experience, as I watched what was happening from a distance, like I could see myself doing it. The walking from the bar towards him, weaving past a few people, and then the moment, the instant of recognition, followed by that priceless smile. Closing the distance, moving towards him, the way he looked, oh god, that look is forever in my mind. The way he leans in, sort of rubbing his shoulder against you before rubbing his face against it. I’ve often thought he reminds me of a cat when he does that. And of course, I know exactly what happens next, because it’s always the same thing, the kiss. The touch, the taste, and whole body sensation of kissing Jake is truly wonderful.

And yet… it felt all wrong, and weird, and as if it was happening to somebody else. The realisation that I wasn’t in the midst of a traumatic brain event was a bitter-sweet moment. Because it was happening to someone else. The guy kissing Jake wasn’t me. Like, literally, at all, totally not me. He was kissing someone else.

I walked towards him, them, actually this time. I know it’s stupid, but I somehow expected him to see me before I got there, but there I was, standing in front of them. The sickening sensation that had been rising in me exploded into the bottom falling out of my world when Jake finally saw me. Because the look was unmistakable, it was guilt. We just stood there, probably only for a few seconds but it felt longer. I was hoping that somehow he could say something to make this better, but he wasn’t, in fact, he wasn’t speaking at all. Just looking sad. Guilty, and regretful, and stupid, and sad.

“Oh fuck… Kaiden…”

“Jakey, babe, what’s going on?” The other guy was quickly alternating between looking at me and looking back to Jake.

Jakey? Seriously, fucking Jakey!? Who the fuck are you and why are you calling my boyfriend Jakey? I turn towards the guy, he was a fair bit smaller than me, not that it mattered, because I’d already decided I was going to punch him. I guess it was anger, or rage, but at the time, it seemed like strength and power and I felt as though I could take on and win anyone at all. I was, most definitely, going to hurt the guy. But before I could, Jake stepped in to the space between us, stopping me, and in doing so, protecting him. That probably hurt more than anything that had happened so far.

“Fuck! Kaiden… please… I… oh fuck…”

“Jakey, who is this?”

The other guy had stepped out, only slightly, from behind Jake, and I glared at him.

“Yeah Jake, who am I? And what the fuck am I doing here?”

Jake just looked at me, clearly not knowing what to say, and then he turned back to guy standing behind him, but still not speaking. When he finally looked back at me, it didn’t matter that there weren’t any words, I could see well enough. And I had the horrible feeling of wanting to hurt him, to hit my Jake, my perfect Jake, the man who meant everything, was also now the man I wanted to punch. I couldn’t bring myself to do it though, and settled for a hard shove, which didn’t really move Jake, but was enough to send the other guy off balance. Jake was crying, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I did what I could, which was to pick up my bag and leave. Jake ran after me, stopping me just as I got to the door.

“Please, Kaiden, I’m so sorry. Please? We can make this OK. I just… I love you.”

“It doesn’t feel much like it, or look much like it either. Just… I need to be away from you.”

“Where are you going? Where are you going to stay? Please Kaiden?”

“Leave me alone. This is… unbelievably shit and obviously over.”

“Please, babe. I know its all my fault and I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck off Jake. Go and explain it to your boyfriend, maybe he’ll be more understanding.”

I walked off, crying, and sad, and angry, and devastated. It hardly even made sense. As soon as I could contain my tears, I tried to focus on more urgent problems. I’m in a city I don’t know, hundreds of miles away from everything familiar. Thanks to the lifeline of mobile technology, I found a hotel with rooms available near the station, so I booked myself in for one night. I could deal with changing my ticket home in the morning. The hotel was way more expensive than I would have ever usually considered, but it was the only nearby option. I had to put in on my ‘emergency’ credit card, which meant that my parents would see it soon enough, but I couldn’t find a better option in the moment. Using all of my student honed coping strategies, as soon as I’d checked in I went to the bar, and spent even more on the credit card buying ridiculously over-priced beer. There was a steady stream of missed calls and messages from Jake, none of which I responded to. I mean, what do you do? It seemed pretty obvious that things were over, and he literally has another boyfriend already, and apparently for a while before now. They definitely didn’t look like people who had just met. Fuck, I didn’t mean to think about them again. So I drank some more before a very un-satisfying night of not really sleeping at all, crying too much, and feeling terrible.

In the morning, still feeling like shit, I checked out and left the hotel to find something to eat. They had a restaurant at the hotel but it was way too expensive for breakfast. The moment I stepped outside he was there, waiting for me.

“What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

Jake held up his phone.

“You, erm, we have each other on Find My Friends.”

“Fucking ironic don’t you think?”

Jake didn’t say anything, but looked uncomfortable. I was trying to decide between feeling angry or sad, not that I had much control over that, or it seemed, over anything at all.

“I don’t think I can talk to you right now, what do you want?”

“Please Kaiden, I’m so sorry…”

“For what? For cheating on me? For having another boyfriend? Or just for getting caught?”

Yeah, I think I’d settled firmly on anger.

“It’s not like that. It’s just… I can explain…”

“Not like what? Not like you were kissing another guy last night, Jakey?”

“It didn’t mean anything, please. I’ve been stupid, I know, and I’m sorry, but please Kaiden…”

“You should have just fucking told me if you wanted to break up.”

“I didn’t, I don’t!”

“No, well I didn’t want to either, so I guess you fucked it up for both of us then.”

“No, Kaiden, I promise, it doesn’t have to be over. Please?”

“Fuck off Jake. I’m going home. You know… I never, ever imagined that I could feel how I feel about you right now.”

We were both crying, but he didn’t make any move to follow me as I walked towards the station. I couldn’t work out at the time if that was a good thing, or if it pissed me off even more. He wasn’t even going to try? I spent even more money that I didn’t have and changed my ticket so I could leave on the next train, having just enough time to eat a totally fucking terrible bacon sandwich. Honestly, I think I’ve printed assignments on paper thicker than that bacon, and with more flavour too.

The ride back down to London gave me far too much time to contemplate this new, and still vastly shitty turn of events. It was over. My perfect forever life with Jake, was actually over. It was a realisation that kept coming in waves over the following couple of weeks. Big, surprising, overwhelming, crashing all around me waves, dragging me off course, threatening to consume me every time. But I was doing OK really. Definitely not withdrawing from the world, or avoiding going out, or drinking too much every day in my room alone, or anything like that. No. And not missing lectures, or stopping completing assignments, or rejecting calls from everyone. Nope, certainly not.

I hadn’t told anyone what had happened, so when Greg finally confronted me about ‘what the fuck is going on with me’ as I was on my way to getting hideously drunk on a Tuesday afternoon, it was the first time I’d said it out loud to anyone else. Even then, it was shockingly painful to say it. Me and Jake are over. Greg was annoyed with me for not saying anything sooner, but mostly worried about me. His concern was difficult to accept, but it somehow seeped in despite my efforts, which seemed to make everything feel even worse. I suppose denial is a pretty good defence, for a short time anyway, but hardly a good choice. I decided that I actually had to do something to look after myself a little more, so I booked a ticket to go home for the weekend. Apart from anything else, I needed to tell my family.

Saturday morning, and I’m standing on my own doorstep, ringing the bell because I can’t find my own keys in my bag. It seemed to take forever before the door opened, which is probably because it was Josh standing on the other side.

“Kay!? What are you doing here?”

“Well, you know, I still live here, kind of, and I wanted to come and see you all and…”

Josh was hugging me tight, and it felt good to be back. I’m sure he’s still growing too as he definitely seemed taller. Other than Josh’s music upstairs, the house seemed very quiet. Josh closed the door behind us as we walked through to the kitchen.

“So is Mum home? I kinda need to talk to her.”

“Yeah, well no, but she’s just over at Adele’s for coffee or something. Why, what’s up?”

The fact that just one simple question like that was enough to send me into total despair mode is perhaps a good indicator of just how well I was really doing. Which is, quite clearly, not very well at all. I think Josh was actually a bit freaked out by the whole thing, which is understandable. I heard him call Mum and tell her to come home as soon as possible as I sat at the kitchen table and cried, uncontrollably, and unable to stop. Dad appeared not long after Mum did, and I was soon surrounded by people who genuinely cared for me, and loved me. It was exactly what I needed. Not enough, but still, a good start. After I had finally been able to tell them, almost coherently, what had happened, and lots more tears, things seemed to feel calmer. Josh hung around all night, which I’m sure would have been a big strain on his social calendar, but it was much appreciated by me. I felt as though I even got some useful sleep that night. Unfortunately the morning brought with it another, less happy revelation. I tried to ignore it, to not think about it, hoping it would just magically go away. But things don’t usually do that, do they. After lunch, when things were actually feeling worse than before, I realised I had to talk to my mum about it.

“Errr Mum?”

“Yes honey?”

“I… errr… I don’t think I can go back.”

“What do you mean? Tonight? There’s plenty of time, the last train isn’t for…”

“No. I mean, like at all. I’m sorry, I don’t want to feel like this, but I can’t.”

I hadn’t told her about the previous two weeks, the drinking to try and cope with my stupid feelings, the self imposed isolation from everyone else, the permanent thoughts about how terrible everything is, and sometimes much worse thoughts than that. Yeah, I’d definitely thought about ending it all, several times. And when I did tell her, I wished I hadn’t. Not that it would have made things any better, but I wouldn’t have had to see that look of pained worry. We ended up agreeing that I would stay with them at home on the Sunday night and see how I felt in the morning. By the time I went to bed I knew that I wasn’t going to go back. Yes, it meant I had failed, catastrophically, dropping out even before my first year had ended, but I wasn’t in any place to worry about it. I just couldn’t face going back there, being alone, and feeling so painfully bad that I’d consider doing anything at all to make it go away. And so that’s how the destruction of my perfect future life was finally concluded. I wasn’t going back to university. My family were all worried about me, and the ‘deal’, such as it was, was that I had to agree to go back to my doctor. I’d sort of acknowledged that already, somewhere, because I knew I wasn’t doing well with this. After telling him everything, I left with some painfully familiar pills. But so what? I had to get through this somehow. After my GP had quite bluntly but necessarily pointed out to me that I was again depressed, I also emailed Scott and agreed to meet with him again to re-start therapy. The irony of being in essentially the same place, mentally, as before I’d ever set eyes on Jake didn’t go un-noticed by me. But I hardly laughed about it either.

After another couple of weeks, Jake finally gave up calling me and messaging me. I read some of the messages but never replied, and never spoke to him. After I hid his Facebook updates as well he was, more or less, out of my life completely, leaving me to just get on the the harder-than-it-should-be business of existing. As a couple of weeks was heading in to a couple of months, there was a new sort of normal settling around me. It wasn’t great, it wasn’t even good, but it was better than it had been, so it was good enough. The pills were helping, the therapy was helping, but underneath it all, I was left feeling flat and lifeless and borderline unrecognisable compared to my ‘old’ self.

One Wednesday evening, my life changed again, although I didn’t realise it at the time. I was sat in the waiting area at the health centre, waiting for my appointment with Scott. My sessions were later than they used to be, and I was quietly doing nothing at all as I sat there, staring at unimaginative posters that I’ve read at least twenty time before. Scott was apparently running late, which had never happened before, when this girl walked past me, on her way out. She was about my age and, in my most non-judgmental way ever, looked totally like a lesbian. Yes, yes, I know, but seriously, she did. She walked past me and we exchanged socially polite smiles without speaking, before she disappeared around a corner, only to return a moment later.

“Hi, so, are you waiting for Scott?”

“Well… errr…”

I was caught off guard by the question, and didn’t really know if I wanted to answer her.

“Oh, sorry, I know it’s none of my business, but it’s just, if you are, apparently he’s off sick this week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, that miserable woman on Reception was supposed to text us or something, but no-one told me either. I just thought, well, you’ve got better things to do that sit here for an hour, right?”

I laughed half-heartedly.

“No, not really. But thanks anyway.”

I stood up and picked up my jacket to leave, aware that the girl was still watching me.

“You want to come get a beer instead? I’m Carla.”

“Huh?”

“A drink?” She over-pronounced as if I was stupid, but there was something about her that was amusing and friendly. “There’s a few of us, but you’re more than welcome to join. It’s got to be better than sitting here on your own, right?”

“Right, yeah. OK, thanks. I’m Kaiden.”

We chatted as we walked a little way across town, nothing too intense, but it was easy enough. When we arrived at The Castle, a very ‘rock’ sort of bar which I’d been in only once before, she introduced me to the three others, all around my age. Michelle, or Shelly as she preferred, Sam, who I thought was a girl but couldn’t be certain, and Reece. They were all nice enough, but first impressions were that it was like a meeting of Gay Teen Anonymous, not really my scene. Thankfully my prejudices remained unspoken, and they actually turned out to be pretty OK people. They had all met originally at a gay youth drop-in, which they have all subsequently stopped attending, but still hang out together. After my first beer I decided to hold back and switched to Diet Coke, but had a totally OK evening with these somewhat crazy as fuck people. It was a weird feeling, other than the mention of how they came to know each other, no-one asked or questioned my own sexual preferences. But weird in an OK way. No-one knew me, so there was no history, no baggage, just me. Even though I’d had more or less this exact same opportunity when I first moved to London, it felt so much better doing it here, at home. And yes, OK, so maybe it helped that Reece was kind of very cute looking. We talked about all kind of stuff, and I went as far as telling them I was recently single, but didn’t get into it any more than that. It was still too raw to talk about Jake. By the end of the night I had four new numbers in my phone, and a plan to meet up at the weekend.

So, yeah, stuff happens.  As always, please ‘like’, comment, and discuss is any way you feel appropriate :) 
More coming soon.  And by soon I mean probably next week, as long as the rest of my world doesn’t get too crazy.
Copyright © 2017 Sam Wyer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Chapter Comments



1 hour ago, Canuk said:

Kaiden is an idiot. Immature. Doesn't deserve anyone. Hope he's happy alone.

 

Thanks for writing characters a person can really engage with!

No doubt everyone has been an idiot from time to time and same for immature.  If we were all perfect little people It would be pretty boring.

It is the growth we see in a  character, even in incremental steps, that make a story interesting.  At this point Kaiden is suffering from depression, something that has happened before.  I think we need to progress a bit more in the storyline before judgement.

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3 minutes ago, rockycs said:

No doubt everyone has been an idiot from time to time and same for immature.  If we were all perfect little people It would be pretty boring.

It is the growth we see in a  character, even in incremental steps, that make a story interesting.  At this point Kaiden is suffering from depression, something that has happened before.  I think we need to progress a bit more in the storyline before judgement.

Perfection would definitely get boring very quickly, for me anyway.  Maybe things will progress even further in the next chapter.

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I feel bad for Kaiden. I don't think he's an idiot and immature at all. In fact, I'm disappointed that he didn't beat the shit out of Jake AND his  skanky ass new boyfriend. What an asshole, stringing along Kaiden while fucking someone else. As far as I'm concerned, cheating is unforgivable. I would never speak to him again and hope that karma beats him like a drum! I'm happy Kaiden has a good support system and went back to counseling.  Its good to have someone to talk to. Looking forward to seeing what happens next.

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Well, I have a feeling that Jake will be back and working hard to get back in our hero's good graces as the story is titled: All About Jake. The alternative is that Kaiden never gets over the breakup and that is just plain sad: Kaiden at 45, all Miss Havisham, still mooning over his one broken chance at romance. Nah, that too 1950's: queers leading tragic lives, we are past that now. 

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2 hours ago, bubby1234 said:

I hate any form of cheating, if i was in a relationship (no such luck) i could not cheat in any form, i would look yes but cheat NEVER in a million years, i despise cheaters.

The only trouble is that some cheaters hide the fact that they are cheating. So while you're not cheating, he is and you end up being the other guy! You might be an unintentional participant!

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3 hours ago, Rndmrunner said:

Well, I have a feeling that Jake will be back and working hard to get back in our hero's good graces as the story is titled: All About Jake. The alternative is that Kaiden never gets over the breakup and that is just plain sad: Kaiden at 45, all Miss Havisham, still mooning over his one broken chance at romance. Nah, that too 1950's: queers leading tragic lives, we are past that now. 

We have to remember that this is all seen from Kaiden's perspective. We don't really know what's going on with Jake. We don't know if there's a convoluted, but somehow plausible explanation for what Kaiden saw. We only know what Kaiden knows.

 

But if Kaiden does turn into Miss Haversham, 45 is still young enough to turn things around…

 

Book Two could take place a quarter of a century later. Other authors have had middle-aged characters meet years after a romantic misunderstanding. (That was the backstory for the long-running BBC series As Time Goes By with Dame Judy Dench and Geoffrey Palmer too.)

 

@Rndmrunner, you could be inspiring @Sam Wyer to quickly rewrite the rest of the story! You could be the reason why the story takes a strange detour! Your idea could inspire a whole new phase of Kaiden and Jake's lives! (You could be at fault for Kaiden wasting 25 years of his life!). ;–)

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9 hours ago, Rndmrunner said:

Well, I have a feeling that Jake will be back and working hard to get back in our hero's good graces as the story is titled: All About Jake. The alternative is that Kaiden never gets over the breakup and that is just plain sad: Kaiden at 45, all Miss Havisham, still mooning over his one broken chance at romance. Nah, that too 1950's: queers leading tragic lives, we are past that now. 

Kaiden as Miss Havisham - I can exclusively reveal here that this isn’t an image I’d ever had before :)

Edited by Sam Wyer
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9 hours ago, Bill225 said:

I appreciate the twist. Look forward to the next instalment. You're a precise and skilled writer, Sam. 

 

What do you enjoy most about writing?  Of the triumvirate of character, technique and plot, do have a favourite? And a least favourite?  

Thank you!

For me, it’s all about character.  Second is plot, because without hat you just have (hopefully) interesting people doing nothing interesting. And last by some significant margin is technique - which is why for my next story (and hopefully beyond) I now have a team of highly skilled masters of their craft to assist me.

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6 hours ago, droughtquake said:

The only trouble is that some cheaters hide the fact that they are cheating. So while you're not cheating, he is and you end up being the other guy! You might be an unintentional participant!

Now there's a scary thought! Imagine taking part in ruining someone's relationship (or even marriage) without knowing it...

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