Life behind Hazel Eyes - 8. "Thinking Straight"

Wednesday morning, I woke up trying to recall what the hell I did to get myself that tired. I thought about the night and day before, but nothing came to me. I finally settled for the fact that I had had a bad dream; I once read somewhere that bad dreams tire you out. But I wished for the life of me I remembered the dream. Argh, fuck it! I’ve got to get up and get ready for work.

I got up that morning after a constant back and forth with myself about calling in sick at work, because of how tired I was, but my ambition and drive won over my laziness. I had been walking around my house for a good twenty minutes when I realised I had yet to shower. In those twenty minutes all I had achieved was drinking one cup of coffee and staring into the television set. It turned out all I needed was to walk around, because after my roaming I got determined to get to work.

I stepped into the shower and cleaned up, I was trimming my pubic area when I realised I hadn’t gotten any ass since Lisa. She was so long ago, and my sperm bank needed a withdrawal to happen or I’d be overflowing. Now, I was never one to jack off, and I’m still not, but stroking my cock made it come to life. I thought about ass, I’m more of an ass, not boob, guy, and the most perfect ass I would like to fuck. For a long time I imagined sticking my seventeen-centimeter shaft into Miranda, but then I remembered that she was gay and it was probably wrong of me to masturbate to images of a lipstick lesbian. Shit, but thinking about her lips sucking my cock made it even harder. I kept stroking it and playing with my balls as I was leaning against the shower wall. I kept stroking my dick faster, and soon I felt the joys of my juice come to play. I was about to build to a climax when I jerked my cock so hard that my elbow hit the metal shower door and I accidentally cut myself. Fuck! How am I going to explain this to anyone? “Oh, I got this injury from when I was jerking off.” Yeah the boys will have a field day with that idea. As I was thinking about how my friends would make fun of me, I remembered that I had to meet up with David for lunch. He wanted to talk about something ‘serious’ with me. Having judged by the tone he used the night before, he was in some form of trouble. Guess I’m going to have to save my man juice for later, I hope the person receiving it can handle big loads. I got out the shower still hard, I was thinking of finishing myself off, but seeing my own blood was a major turn off. I cleaned my wound up and managed to put a plaster on it.

After I was all bandaged up, I got dressed in a shirt that would hide my symbol of failed self-relief and headed to the office; there were no out-of-office meetings that day. Driving over to the office, my mind wandered as to how I had to finish some work for a new project that was assigned to me; it was an upgrade on a building. My boss said that some restaurant owner had finally gotten his hands on the lease for the building his restaurant was in and now wanted to upgrade the entire structure. Something about a modern design that made use of natural light, and an extra floor. I could’ve paid more attention to the brief, but I’d been feeling under the weather for some time. I thought it had something to do with being single; I was never great at being alone. I know it sounds all needy, but I genuinely couldn’t be single for long. But that wasn’t the problem, well not all of it anyway. Sitting behind my desk, I took a deep breath before getting into my work.

Sketching the idea for the new building was tricky; I had never designed anything from just a picture, or never having made contact with the client. How could Mr Hollinger think this was possible? Shit man, work that week wasn’t great, and to top it off, I was feeling shit. I sat in front of my laptop sketching just the basics of everything. Walls, roof, ceiling, and stopped and realised I was designing my office. Shit, I needed to get out of there.

“Martha, where is that restaurant that Mr Hollinger wants me to work on?” I asked our thirty-three-year-old receptionist.

“I think I emailed their address to you. Oh and Marvin, a David somebody called. Something about lunch being at twelve as opposed to one. He said something about a father or some or other relative being in town.” Martha sounded very distant; I guessed I wasn’t the only one having an off week at work. But what Martha told me had made me understand why David sounded tense over the phone last night. His father was in town and that man never seemed to have time for smiles, laughter or fun. So, whenever he was around, David would be on a tight leash and walking around on eggshells.

After I had finished my conversation with Martha, I went back into my office and decided to call the guys individually to make dinner plans at the restaurant I was supposed to do work for. I managed to get Mike and Sipho to come along, but David had commitments with his father, which we were to discuss over lunch. Once I had finished rallying the troops, I had decided to work on another project in the meantime. 'Operation restaurant' was amiss until the next day. The fact that I could postpone the restaurant idea was just so relaxing; it got me to do my other work extremely well. I concentrated on all the tasks I had to do and was dexterous about the ratio aspect of the design, as I was huddled over a drawing I had received from one of the other guys I work with. Naturally I had to confirm things using my scale, this part of my work made me feel like I was in school all over again. I guess that’s why I preferred to draw things myself before scanning it onto my pc and doing it digitally again, just for accuracy. I was in work mode, and when I was in that state, I was in deep and nothing could distract me. Nothing, except for the alarm I always set to ring at lunch hour to remind me of lunch dates and appointments, just in case I was in a hyper productive approach. Having to figure out the logistics of the project I was busy with meant concentrating intensely and trying to outdo every other idea I’d ever had in my life. I had been so consumed by my workload that I forgot my concerns about the latest assignment. I had almost forgotten about lunch, when my alarm went off.

I got up and headed down to the lobby, greeted a few people, and made sure that the receptionist knew I was out for lunch. I was excited to go and rescue my car from the horrible grips of the highly expensive underground parking lot. It always bothered me that we had to pay for the rent of our offices and the parking. Fuck these people really know how to exact money out of a nigga. I was about to start cussing out loud when I remembered how easier parking was when it was paid for; I had no reason to spend hours on end looking for a bay, and besides there was a car wash as well and that cost an extra thirty rand, so life was a bit easier. Exiting the business premises I could hear my car’s engine come to life. I know I sound crazy to other people when I say this, but sometimes I feel a powerful connection with my car. It’s as if it talks to me with every purr, and with every drive we create an even deeper bond. I take meticulous care of my baby, Charlie. Charlie is a 2009 Jeep Wrangler, a beast with a 3.8-liter V6 and 202 horsepower at 5200 rpm. Without a doubt Charlie was my one true love.

Finally my little bonding session with Charlie came to an end. I pulled up in front of Cumana, and for once, getting my car into a suitable parking spot wasn’t a hassle. There was nothing I hated more than being caught up looking for a place to sit my Charlie down. I got out of the Jeep, putting my sunglasses on, as it was blazing and I had to protect my golden-brown eyes from the sunrays. Walking to the restaurant I thought to quicken my pace just in case David had arrived earlier than me, and if he did he’d hold it against me. David had, or has rather, this rule that if you are meeting up with him for whatever reason and you’re tardy, he bills you per minute for the time you are late. He attributes it to the adage 'time is money' and boy does he take his time and money seriously.

Walking with a quickened stride, I bumped into two girls who were strolling at a leisurely speed in front of me. I don’t know where my mind was that I didn’t see them. I hurriedly started apologising to the ladies, “Truly sorry ladies, I usually tread better than that. I hope I didn’t hurt any of you. I can give you my insurance details if you need to claim any damages caused by the accident.” They both chuckled and told me that they were fine and that there was no need for insurance details; I flashed them one more smile before I headed into the eatery. To my amazement, Dave had not made it yet, meaning I didn’t owe him late fees. I grabbed a table somewhere visible and got to looking through the menu. I never actually look through menus at places I’ve been to before, because I’m the kind of guy that sticks to what he knows and likes; I only try new things on certain days. That day was one of my ‘try something new’ days, so seeing as I had nothing but time, I let the idea of the new various food choices play around in my mind. I imagined smells, tastes, methods of cooking and even the way the animal had been slaughtered. It wasn’t until the waiter came over to ask if I was ready to order, that I realised David was running fifteen minutes late. I ordered a non-alcoholic beverage as a means to stall time; it was unlike David to be late and not have called. I looked over at my phone to confirm that I hadn’t received a message from him, nothing. I shrugged it off knowing him – he'd have a valid reason – besides, now he owes me money for being late. Yeah, I thought I’d use his own rule against him. Just the thought of David’s reaction creeping into my head made a smirk emerge on my face.

“I hope I grin like you when I get a look at the food menu.” David’s voice came out calm, but the panic and annoyance was evident. He pulled his chair out and sat down, his movements fast and rushed. “Sorry I’m late, my dad is in town and you know how that goes.” And indeed, I knew. Well and truly did our entire group of friends know that once Chief Mulalo was in town, David was bound to be on edge and in need of some ways to distract.

“I was going to give you grief about being late, but judging by how tense you are, I’ll buy you a drink instead.” I had no other option but to abort my plan of toying with him. So I raised my hand politely to call for our waiter.

“Thanks buddy,” he said sounding chuffed. “I’ll have a double Johnny Walker Blue Label, please. Hold the ice.” He was talking to the waiter but his eyes were fixed on the menu, and I had to admit his tone was better than the one he had used with me. The waiter nodded, looked at me, I shook my head to say I was fine, and he dashed off to the bar area.

“Your rich boy taste is going to kill my budget for the month,” I teased him.

“You ain’t got nothing else to spend your trust fund money on, so why not on a good friend?” he said in a playful tone, which got us both chuckling a little.

"So, what’s he in town for now?” I saw him glance up and shoot me a confused look. “Your father, what is he doing in town this time?” I said reinforcing my question, knowing that all I’d get were the same responses.

“Besides annoying me? He’s here for a traditional leader’s conference, and I have to listen to how much of a disappointment I am.” David’s voice hardly became this melancholic, but whenever it did it was a horrible sound to hear. I watched as he all but threw his menu onto the table. The thing with David’s father is that he is the Chief of Venda and has been elected to serve in the council of traditional leaders in parliament, seeing as he has only one son, he expected and had been preparing his heir to be a carbon copy of himself, and then some. But according to my buddy, he had his own plans from the age of sixteen. So he had to work extra hard to get his grades to ensure he got a bursary to study what he wanted. He had gotten no financial support from his father since he was eighteen, but his mother had to secretly send him money, and he suspects his father knows about that. He told us this after a drunken night. I remember because it was the first night we all met his father and he was a major dick.

“Buddy, you know you're doing great for yourself. Fuck what he has to say about you not being a chief, just focus on your career. Prove to him we run this shit. Besides, I’ve got a plan to cheer you up.” Just then our waiter came back with drinks and took our food order. I saw David relax after he took a sip of his double Johnny Walker, fucking expensive, Blue.

“So, how’s work going, my nigga?” David asked changing the topic. I was eager to divert his mind to whatever he wanted, and wasn’t going to let his bastard father destroy our day.

“Things are good, man. Just got a new assignment that has me by the balls. Maybe it will get better after seeing the space I have to work with tonight.” Talking about work was our easiest digression, seeing as we all generally enjoyed our careers despite the odd days.

“Yeah, sorry I can’t make your little brainstorming session with the fellas. I…” I could see his jaw tighten, just thinking of whatever he and his father had planned that night.

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll get a chance to get trashed out of our minds this weekend. Maybe we can pick up some girls, seeing as you and I both haven’t gotten any in months.” I started to let out a giggle, but he interrupted.

“That’s a lie,” he said with a straight face. “You and Lisa broke up two weeks ago, when you started cheating on her with Mikhail.” Fuck, that's like a firecracker lobbed onto the table; we both laughed at the memory of Lisa and her antics.

“Okay, so I can survive," I said. "But nigga, you’ve been single for years, and we never meet the girls you hook up with. What’s up with that?” I noticed a stifled reaction, but I couldn’t place it. Maybe it was me reading too much into things. Just like when I thought he winked at Mikhail suggestively, and all to find out that he was finally reaching out as we’d been encouraging him to. David shifted slightly and started fiddling with something on his lap, he seemed a bit thoughtful, but then he came back. “Y’all got to let up on wanting to meet my bitches. Just know that I get some whenever I want. It just happens that I’m not the kinda nigga that will go around mounting my catches on the wall for you to gawk at.” There it was, the Dave I knew: smug, confident and secretive. At some point the guys and I thought David was still a virgin, and that he lied about his sexual encounters, that was until Sipho found used condoms in D’s rubbish bin when he’d been there for a morning jog.

“I hear you, but at some point you gotta bring a girl home to meet the friends.” His reaction was just laughter, almost loud but not quite. He was in the middle of his laughter when the waiter arrived with our food. We nearly ate in silence, but we kept chattering about cars and girls.

It had been a while since we were in the middle of our meal when I noticed that the two girls from earlier on were seated parallel to us. I called our waiter over and asked him to send over two glasses of whatever the ladies were drinking and say, ‘Consider this us settling our insurance claims’. My gesture earned me a quirked eyebrow from David. So I explained to him about earlier today.

“I have to say, you are one cheesy mother…” David said before I interrupted him.

“No! Don’t say it. We both know between the two of us, I have more game. Matter of fact, I can prove it,” I said with a daring look on my face.

“That’s the problem with you; you wanna show off how many girls you can get. Numbers mean nothing, quality means everything.” He was starting on his self-righteous ‘how to treat a woman’ bullshit again.

“Argh, shut up. Let’s just go over to that table once we're ready to leave and set up dates with each of them. I call dibs on the brunette.” David chuckled and finished what was left of his lunch. I took his response as confirmation that he’d be present for the conversation.

We walked up to the two women, introduced ourselves and got to talking. The conversation was short, just another apology and us inviting them over for dinner. They were sceptical at first, but David and I managed to convince them that he and I were great cooks and not serial killers; they seemed to enjoy our humour. But I got the sense that David only got Trish’s number to make things seem less awkward, and I didn’t mind. As long as I was going to be 'closely acquainted' with Lauren, it was a win-win situation for everyone.

“Have a great evening, buddy. Hopefully I’ll check on you tomorrow. Good luck with your pops,” I said as David and I were about to split directions a few steps away from the restaurant door.

“Yeah, I need it. Check you when we double date with the two hotties from inside.”

I laughed hysterically at the use of the word ‘hotties’, not only was the word in the no-go zone for us, but it wasn’t a word David used when describing women at all. Something about 'never objectifying women,' and what have you. So, it really was funny when he said that word. We parted ways; I headed to Charlie, where I got comfortable and played Kendrick Lamar. Jamming to good music always got me hyped up for work, speaking of which, I was looking forward to finishing off what I had to do for the project I left I on my workstation.

I got to the office and drowned myself in work; again I set up my alarm to go off at about 18:00. Dinner with my boys was at 19:00 and I was going to make sure I got to my new and latest project with all the old work done, making sure not to clash two totally different ideas. I was getting high off of the prospect of designing one of the greatest restaurants in the city.

This time I checked the hardcopies with the drawing I received, this was part of my field verification, and as I thought, everything was perfect. I then moved on to the as-built set, which is a coordinated, complete set of all the architectural, engineering, mechanical, landscaping and furniture drawings. The as-built set took up most of my time and energy. I have to say this was one of my best working days. I enjoyed pushing myself and that day was one of the days where I had no other option but to push myself so hard that I felt like all I had was drained out of me. I managed to finish my work at about 17:49 and let out a huge sigh of relief. I felt relaxed and fulfilled when I was done. My work was bliss and I didn’t want that to change. With every task of that day done, I set off to go see potentially the best restaurant designed by Marvin Demetrio Voile to date.

I drove off to the other side of town to get to the restaurant where we had dinner reservations, and I’m sure the guys weren’t expecting that we actually stay long there. We only ever ate out together for lunches, and dinners at pub and grubs. So this was a new adventure for us and I wouldn’t blame the guys for wanting to not eat, and opting for just a few drinks and leaving. I already imagined Sipho saying, “Boet, we're only here to check out the scene, not have a date with ourselves. Let’s get it moving.” My mind kept fooling around with ideas as to what the retarded guys that were my friends would say – I know, I shouldn't use 'retarted;' it's 'mean,' but those guys can act really stupid sometimes. I was thinking this when I pulled up outside the Italian–inspired restaurant; the sign was big and in an unidentified font. The actual structure itself was a conventional brick two-story, with a pair of big windows on the sides, which I guess were there to utilise the view of the city. I can imagine how the patrons of this place enjoy looking over the lights of one of the busiest cities in the country. On the other hand, I could see why someone would want to rearrange this building to seem more inviting. Currently it looked like a prison with a view, an impressive view, but still.

I walked into the place and scanned thoroughly, taking in every little detail, spacing, design, and the personality of the place. I had to admit the interior was way better than the exterior, and the inside felt like someone’s home, down to the greeting at the door by the hostess. I jotted down mental notes about the place, things that I might want to stay, things to change. I was thinking about so many potential ideas when I saw Sipho and Mike wave at me, calling me over to the table they had secured.

“What’s up guys?” I said shaking both their hands. Mike and Sipho responded in the usual ‘nothing’ or ‘the same old’. It wasn’t until I was seated and a waitress walked over to take our drinks order that I noticed that the table was for five, not three.

“So, y’all wanna tell me something?” I asked in a non-hostile manner.

“Oh yeah," Sipho snorted out. "Genius over here decided to invite his crush, and Mikhail, seeing as David wasn’t coming.”

“I thought it would be fun, ok…” Mike was going to explain himself when I cut him short.

“Nah, it’s chilled. We all know Mike thinks with his penis anyways.” We all burst into belly laughter, and once the outburst died down, we wondered exactly how long our guests would take to arrive so we could eat. Part of me was laughing at Mike because Miranda was lesbian and it would hurt him when he found out.

“Yo, Mike boy. Call your date and ask her where she at. A man has got to eat,” Sipho said sounding less irritated than he was. One thing you need to understand is Sipho’s patience is as short as he is, so making him wait is never a safe option.

“Let me dial her up.” Mike sounded a bit defeated. It was as if Miranda not being there was her standing him up. As he dialled his phone, the two tall people we were waiting for walked over to our table. A smile beamed from my face as both Mikhail and Miranda made their way to our table. We casually said hello and they sat down.

“Sorry we late, someone, no names…” Mikhail said as he covered his mouth with his right hand and kept rolling his eyes towards Miranda as he spoke. "…Mentioned she felt the need to change outfits four times before leaving.” Miranda rewarded him with a sharp jab in the ribs. We laughed together before Sipho interrupted.

“Well, at least you are here. Mike was scared Miranda wouldn’t make it. He’d already started drawing up his suicide note.” Another boom of laughter; Sipho enjoyed taking jabs at Mike, especially in front of girls Mike liked.

“You know I can punch your lights out, right?” Mike joked back to Sipho. The two of them were going to go on all night if the waitress hadn't arrived to take food and beverage orders for everyone. Surprisingly, Miranda and Mikhail knew what they wanted without having to look at the menu too long. Speaking of Mikhail, there was something different about him. He seemed more reserved and indifferent that night. I don’t know, maybe it was just me. The drinks arrived and I was getting a better vibe from him and the restaurant. By the time our food came, I had confirmed that the restaurant was going to be a great work of architecture when I was done with it. In the middle of my thoughts, my phone vibrated, I reached into my pocket and saw that I had received an sms.

Meet me in the bathroom in three minutes.

The message was from Mikhail. When I looked up to him he was already rising from his seat. He whispered something in Miranda’s ear, then walked away in the direction of the bathroom. I waited the designated three minutes and headed to the bathroom myself. I was feeling a bit nervous about Mikhail’s behaviour, but it excited me at some level too. The mystery of it all was just so intoxicating. I was walking down the corridor to the bathroom when I felt a burst of cold air hit me, a door to the ally was open and soon a hand came from the darkness and pulled me out.

“'The Fuck bra? You scared me,” I exclaimed to a calm-looking Mikhail.

“Shame man, don’t tell me you scared of the dark,” Mikhail joked.

“I’m not, it’s just that…” I took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect that. You said…”

“I know what I said,” he interrupted. “But you understand that was a lie, right?” Again, with the calm resolve he had, it was as if he was unbothered by everything that I said.

“So?” I asked looking into his eyes, and for the second time since I met him, I noticed how beautiful they were. Wow, where did that come from?

“So…” He quirked an eyebrow and smiled at me. “What’s a boy like you doing in a place like this?”

“I… You called me over. More like pulled me – ” I started to say, intrigued by the man that stood before me.

“Ok. I guess you have every right to ask me such questions.” He smiled again, this time he reached his hand into his denim jacket and got out a cigarette and a lighter. He leaned against the wall and then looked over to me calmly and stretched out his hand to offer me a cigarette. I hesitated, for reasons unknown by me, and spoke instead. “What are we doing out here, Mikhail?” I asked moving myself next to him, closing the large gap between us, taking him up on his offer to smoke with him.

“I need to talk to you about Miranda,” he said. I looked at him confused but remained quiet. “I… There isn’t an easy way to say this. She isn’t gay; she just said that to you because she didn’t know how to turn you down. She’s really interested in Mike; I don’t want things to be awkward when they hit it off. I think you are a great guy, but clearly what I think doesn’t count…” He was going to go on, but I saw how uncomfortable he was, and I decided to put him out of his misery.

“It’s okay. It’s nice of you to tell me before I make a fool of myself by telling Mike that she’s a lesbian. Besides, I don’t think I’m into her; it’s just that she’s so beautiful you want to kiss her.” I let out a small chuckle to show him things were still fine.

“So, wanna talk about your love life?” Mikhail asked as he moved his eyes from the pavement to meet mine.

“Other than being rejected by a dyke that turned out not to be a lesbian, nothing interesting has taken place. But there was this hot chick that offered me sex, but she was only in my dreams.” We both laughed and I noticed how perfect Mikhail’s teeth were. It was as if he had worn braces, everything was well aligned like a word document.

“You’re a complete dork, you know that right?” Mikhail asked in between giggles. “Here are your tickets by the way,” he said handing me four second-row tickets. I looked at him with a wide grin. I guess being with him made me happy, and being able to see how great he was at what he does would show my support for him. I was being the supportive friend and it felt great. We stood outside until we finished smoking then went back in.

“Where were you two?” Miranda asked after we got back to the table.

“Having sex behind the dumpster, in the alleyway.” Mikhail had retorted with his unbothered tone. He seemed to make Miranda laugh, for clearly it was an inside joke.

Sipho laughed too, but between chuckles he managed to say, “Anyway, you know that Mikhail is already seeing David on the side, so he won't be into you Marv for quite a while." Everybody laughed even more now, but something in Mikhail’s twinkling eyes caught my attention…something…I can’t describe. Something must be wrong with me; I’m seeing things that aren’t there. First David, now Mikhail – fuck I need to get my head right.

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, everyone went on to talk about their days and how work had gone for them.

“So, Mikhail how was work?” Sipho asked.

“Great. Rehearsals went very well. Starting tomorrow we are going to go through the entire thing all in one go, and dress rehearsals are Friday. After that we are under strict diets and rules. These are the last few days before the show, so they are bound to be hectic.” This time Mikhail spoke with some form of emotion and vigour.

“Cool, so when did you get home from work to go to rehearsals for this play?” For some strange reason Sipho was trying to achieve something no one knew about.

“Work? Where exactly do I work Sipho?” Mikhail asked puzzled.

“I don’t know, I thought you had a 09:00 to 17:00, like most people.” Sipho sounded embarrassed by his own questions.

Mikhail let out a small laugh before answering, “No. I’m the artistic type that your parents told you not to become. I only wake up to dance and/or sing.” With that Sipho apologised for what he claims was ‘dick behaviour’. We paid our bill and went to our individual cars and parted ways.

I drove home to a lonely apartment and thought about work. I went over to my study and drew a few rough sketches of what I envisioned the restaurant to be like. I was at it for three hours before sleep started to call me by name. I walked over to my bedroom, undressed and climbed into bed and started to think about my day. Every time I thought about the restaurant, I saw Mikhail’s eyes and smile. I recalled referring in my mind to his eyes as beautiful. I don’t know where that came from. Why has he got me thinking things I had never thought before? What was it about him that held the image of that man in my mind way after our every encounter? Maybe if I get a girl to fuck, then I’ll get the image of him out of my brain.

Yeah that’s it. All I need is a girl who’s very attractive to get my mind thinking straight.

Up next is something intriguing, I hope you guys love mystery.  
 
Sorry for taking a long time to post new material. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to everyone that is still following the story, and those that just joined the journey. I wanna send a big thanks to AC Benus, much love and appreciation.