Lost in Manchester - 10. A Charmless Man. November 2009. Adam.

Adam returned to the flat that evening to find Paul sipping a glass of wine and, unusually, listening to some half decent music.

“Is this Kings of Leon?” he asked.

Paul rolled his eyes. “Fuck knows, it’s not mine. Sam likes them”.

“Who’s Sam?”

Paul swallowed down a glug of wine. “New man.”

“Aha”. It had been two weeks since the weird Steve-Barcelona debacle. That had probably been the final nail in the coffin.

“So Steve’s out of the picture then?”

Paul laughed coldly. “Steve is most definitely out the picture. Trust me. You won’t be seeing any more of that little fuckwit”.

There was a sound from the bathroom and seconds later a stranger, Sam presumably, appeared in the doorway, sweeping a floppy brown fringe out of his eyes. He could only be about 20, and looked like a skinny, awkward kind of indie boy.

“Hi” the boy said brightly and stepped across to shake hands. “You must be Adam?” He spoke with unexpected assurance.

“Hi, good to meet you. So, you guys must be a pretty new thing?”

“A few weeks yeah. This is the first time I’ve been allowed back to see the beloved flat though” he said, smiling at Paul.

“Sam’s still a student” Paul interjected. “I was worried if I invited him over too soon he might run off with the laptops”

“Ha. Not with the weight of porn downloaded on yours” Sam shot back, sticking his tongue out.

Paul made a cute face back and turned to face Adam.

“So how was your day anyway?”

This was weird. Paul seemed, sort of, normal.

“Not too bad. I got a second email from the letting agents though. They still can’t find your payments on the system.”

Paul rolled his eyes again. “I actually showed them my bank statement to show the money’s been paid out. I’ve literally never known such a group of morons”.

Adam nodded. “Yeah. It’d be good to call them though and sort it. They’re saying you owe two months’ rent now.”

Paul was right, they were morons, but he was obviously ignoring their calls because he thought the issue was beneath him. It was purely arrogance.

Sam’s face was solemn. He obviously didn’t quite know how to deal with the tension in the room.

“He’s right, you don’t want to risk getting chucked out of here. It’s way too nice.” Sam said, making his intervention, and catching Paul’s eye.

Paul stared at Sam, a look which seemed to tell him to keep out of this, but Sam didn’t even blink.

“Fine, I’ll call them in the morning” Paul conceded, his steely eyes softening as he looked across at his new lover.

Man, Paul was acting strange.

“So, Adam, you want a glass of this wine?” Sam asked.

Adam looked at the still half-full bottle on the table.

“Sure. I’m on a first date tonight and this guy has an amazing bum. So pre-date confidence drinking would be good.”

Sam nodded smiling, and fetched a glass to pour. “They call it foreplay in Norway you know – drinking before you go out”

“Well, that sounds appropriate” Adam replied, taking the glass.

Paul laughed. “So where are you heading to?”

Adam grimaced. “Kweer. His choice.”

Sam smiled sympathetically. “You’ve got to be careful of Canal Street on a week night. Those bars can be pretty ropey…”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Especially Kweer. It’s all horny older guys on a week night.”

Paul laughed again. “Fuck yes. It’s like 28 Gays Later. Instead of the zombies you get fucking geriatric sex starved gays coming at you. Total fucking horror show.”

Adam laughed, waving away their warnings. “I’m sure it’ll be grand.”

 

It was just after 7pm when Adam passed by the flashing disco lights of Samsons and arrived at the entrance to Kweer bar. He stared in with trepidation. It was darker on the inside than it was out here. Even with the door shut, the building shuddered with the beat of brain-dead bass.

He took a deep breath and entered the bar. Looking around, he couldn’t spot anybody within even a decade of being Ryan. He squelched his way across the floor to the bar, pulled up a stool and ordered a pint.

A few minutes passed and there was still no sign of his date. His vision adjusted to the gloom and as he glanced around he saw the predatory eyes on him. Wolves in the bodies of middle aged men perching or casually leaning all around the room, mouths watering at the new flesh.

“Lovely in here isn’t it?” said a Yorkshire voice in close proximity to his ear.

Adam turned with a start, then recoiled from the bearded man who was positioned close up behind him, at the otherwise empty bar.

“Bit too loud and dark for me mate” he said, almost shouting over the music.

The figured nodded, revealing a yellow grin. “Well that’s so you don’t have to see who’s noshing you”.

Adam narrowed his eyes. What did that even mean?

“Sorry I need to send a text” he said, pulling out his phone and turning to face the opposite way along the bar.

He turned and jumped again as another face, less than a foot away bore down on him. This one was tall and gangling. He wore a scraggy coat over a checked shirt, like a demonic scarecrow.

“You know you look a lot like Sting”

Adam screwed up his face.

“Sting?”

“Mmm” the guy purred, and squinted his eyes in a way that was presumably meant to be alluring.

“Isn’t Sting about 60?”

The man looked ruffled. “Really? He’s a great looking guy though.”

There was a painfully long pause, but then like a real life miracle, his phone started to buzz. He looked up at the scarecrow.

“Sorry, I’ve really got to take this”.

He turned again and was relieved that nobody was behind him this time.

He spent a minute pretending that the text message received had been a phone call, before making a drawn out farewell, and then finishing the call.

He read the text message from Ryan.

Hey man, sorry, i’m running late. Totally forgot we had a date tonight til like half an hour ago. Be with you in 10 mins tho. X

Wow. Not only had he forgotten the date, he also couldn’t be bothered making up a shit excuse. Like the boss made him work late, or he got caught up taking the cat to the vet. It didn’t have to be real, or even all that believable, just something for a guy’s self-esteem to cling to. Lying was just good manners.

Adam turned back to the bar and saw an old man lurking further along. This guy was older than the last two. Older even than their fathers. The man smiled and then slid unnaturally smoothly along the bar towards him.

An alcoholic vapour cloud hit him, and as it cleared he could see deep lines like war trenches across the top half of the guy’s face, and thick hair, all brown and ginger covering the lower part like ivy.

“You been stood up then?” the man growled, apparently teasing him.

“No” he replied definitively. “My friend’s on his way. He should be here any second”.

The man nodded, his grin fading a little. He was about to speak again, but Adam cut him off.

“I’m sorry, I have a text I really need to send” he said, pulling his phone out and turning to face slightly away. From the corner of his eye, he saw the smooth slide of the man back along the bar. Adam typed a message slowly to James, to see if his date with Tessa was going any better.

After another five minutes there was still no sign of Ryan, and Adam’s drink was about finished. He looked around the bar once again and accidentally caught the eye of the crumpled man, still perching at the end of the bar.

“Tell you what” the man croaked at him. “If he doesn’t show, i’ll be your back-up”. His cackle resonated above the thudding beat.

 

By the time Adam had finished his drink, Ryan was more than half an hour late. His dignity could stand it no longer. He stood up, ready to grab his coat and march out, but then his phone buzzed again. Assuming it must be his elusive date, he pulled the phone out and sat down again to see what Ryan had to say for himself. He flicked through his messages only to discover James’ reply. At least things were going well for one of them.

He put the phone away and was slipping on his coat again when a guy sauntered into the bar and across to him. Adam looked up to see the faintly familiar face from the website profile. He looked scruffy, but he’d done his hair at least, and actually was quite cute.

“Hey mate. You weren’t about to do a runner were you?” Ryan asked with a cheeky smile.

Adam looked at him humourlessly.

“I am doing a runner”.

“Ahh, come on mate, honestly I got distracted by something. You know how it is. Listen, let me get us a beer in”.

Adam weighed it up. He should just go. Guys shouldn’t get away with this kind of behaviour. If Ryan had been even slightly less attractive, he’d have walked.

“Fine” he said. “But not here. Let’s go somewhere I can hear myself think”.

As they walked out, he glanced back to see the ancient man in the corner slowly shaking his head.

 

They walked to an arts bar around the corner, with proper lighting, soft music and non-stick floors. Adam grabbed them a table and they glanced through the drinks menu.

A young barman quickly came across to the table. He looked like a final year university student, sporty with sexy designer stubble and a deep home counties voice, that made you think his parents wished he’d made it to Cambridge.

“Can I get you gents anything?” he asked politely.

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“Well now. What exactly are you offering?”

“Gin and tonic” Adam interjected rapidly.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Sure man. And for you?” the barman asked, turning to Ryan.

“How about you come join us for a drink after your shift?” Ryan persisted, his eyebrow suggestively arched. “See what happens?”

This was excruciating.

The barman gave a slightly arrogant smile, like it wasn’t the first time this had happened. “Thanks, but I’m heading straight over to my girlfriends mate.”

Ryan shrugged dismissively, like a spurned lover. “Your call. I’ll have what he’s having then”, Ryan said, gesturing vaguely to Adam.

Ryan excused himself and went to the bathroom and Adam got out his phone to quickly send another message to James.

Oh my god. Total dickhead. He just tried to hit on the barman.

He clicked send, and in the same second saw that the name written into the box at the top wasn’t the right name. It was meant to say James. He was sending the message to James. Why did it say Ryan? He gasped audibly and his finger grabbed at the back button.

Message sent to Ryan.

Shit. This was bad. He flicked through the phone trying to find any way to undo what had just happened, but there was nothing. The message was already on Ryan’s phone. Maybe he should walk out the door? There was still time. He could do that, he had every right in fact. His body wouldn’t move though. It felt paralysed, maybe in shock at his own stupidity.

Two minutes and no bright ideas later, Ryan was returning towards the table. This might go down as the worst date in history.

“What’s up man?” Ryan asked, taking his seat again. “Looks like you saw a ghost or something?”

That wasn’t the response he expected.

“No, i’m fine” he bluffed. “You?”

“Fucking phone’s run out of battery. Piece of crap.”

 

The relief gradually spread through him, and out of a strange sense of guilt for a text message as yet unseen, Adam stayed and they worked their way through three more G&Ts. The conversation relaxed down into comfortable chat and even flirtation. He wasn’t going to get any life changing insights or high-brow debate from Ryan, but it was easy and he could be funny at times. There was no question of him being boyfriend material, but he wasn’t terrible company for the evening.

Time was getting on and Adam suggested they head back to a slightly livelier bar on Canal Street. Meandering back towards the Village, Ryan stopped at a cross roads. He pulled out his phone to check the time.

“Listen” he said, seriously, “I’m gonna put cards on the table here. It’s coming up 11 o’ clock. I liked your pictures online and you’re even hotter in the flesh, and I live like two minutes away. How about we skip the bar?”

Adam felt the hand on his ass. He lifted it gently off and put it back by Ryan’s side.

“You really think I’m that easy?” Adam said, a teasing smile on his face.

Ryan grinned. “I’m hoping so.”

Adam was about to continue the verbal striptease, when his gin-addled mind spotted the inconsistency.

“You just checked the time” he said.

“Yeah?” Ryan looked genuinely confused.

“You said your phone had died.”

“So?”

Surely Ryan could see what he was saying.

“Well, like, did you get any text messages earlier?”

Ryan shrugged in defeat. “Course I saw your text. I guessed it wasn’t meant for me. Whatever. I been called worse”.

Adam was bemused. “But…you don’t care?”

“Look, I don’t want to be your boyfriend. All this drinks and dating bollocks, it’s pleasantries. And to check neither of us is a psycho, which we’re not. End of the day, you came out tonight because you wanted to fuck, and so do I. So let’s fuck.”

Adam’s bemused look broke into a laugh. “Wow. You smooth talker.”

 

Adam heard the buzz of James’ text message from across the room but paid no attention. His hands were stroking across the firm abs and six-pack lying beneath him. He felt one of Ryan’s hands on his ass and the other one on his neck. It was hard to argue with the man’s point.