Dead Fit - 11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

On Saturday afternoon, I ran to Target to pick up a shirt appropriate for Brian’s thematic party. I already had khaki shorts, so all I needed was a tropical shirt. Target's selection was on the skimpy side, but eventually I found a knock-off of a Tommy Bahama button-up. It was a little on the flamboyant side and not something I would choose to wear everyday, but it would do just fine for the party and for my wallet.

When I left the house in the early evening, my parents were out gathering provisions for their following day's road trip to Phoenix. Looking at the list of supplies my mom had compiled, it could have easily been a cross-country trip. I was glad my parents weren’t home when I left for Brian's. It bothered me that my mom wanted to know where I was going and at what time I would be home. I felt like I was still in high school. But while I was living under her roof, I wasn’t about to challenge her authority.

I arrived at the clubhouse of Brian's condo building an hour before the party to help him set up, but my services weren't needed. Brian hired a catering company to take care of food, beverages, decorations, and entertainment.

True to his word, the party had a tropical theme. Two rows of Tiki torches lined the way to a façade of a straw hut, which served as the backdrop to the bar. An attractive blond woman wearing a lei and a Hawaiian-print shirt was busy lining up bottles of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. The alcoholic selection appeared to outnumber the non-alcoholic choices by a ratio of four-to-one.

Two long buffet tables with fish-print table cloths were against a wall. Servers wearing hairnets set up plastic ware and plates, chafing dishes on one end of the buffet for hot foods, and dessert trays on the other end for sweets.

Beach chairs were clustered throughout the clubhouse, creating separate spaces for groups to hold conversation. In the corner was a portable dance floor and a mini deejay booth. A young and hip Asian man in board shorts was walking around with headphones around his neck and I presumed him to be our master of music for the night.

I saw Brian standing next to a rather official-looking man holding a clipboard. He asked Brian questions and after Brian responded, he barked orders at the staff. Gauging by how quickly the staff responded, I guessed that the man was the boss.

Brian saw me and came over to give me a hug. He planted a kiss on my forehead and said, “I'm glad you could make it.”

“You need any help,” I offered.

“Nah, things are running smoothly. In a half hour or so, the food will arrive and then the guests will be here shortly after. If you want, take my keys and hang out in my condo until the party starts. You can just relax. I'll be down here making sure everything gets done.”

I took Brian up on his offer, partly because I didn't want to be in the way while party staff got the place ready, but also because it would give me a chance to snoop through his condo. I wasn't looking for anything in particular – I was just curious about his life.

Snooping had always been my preferred method to find out about others. Some people were naturally intuitive, like Ana, and could figure people out by watching them. Other people took a direct approach, willing to ask tough questions to figure out someone's personality. Neither of these methods were particularly useful for me, so instead, I opted for invasion of personal privacy.

I opened the door to Brian’s condo, excited as a kid in a candy store. He left the lights on in his unit, which didn’t sit well with my green conscience. At least his behavior was consistent with his use of a gas guzzling Range Rover. I locked the deadbolt behind me, just in case Brian had a spare set of keys and barged in during my little adventure.

I started in the living room, with a review of Brian’s entertainment center. His collection of DVD’s was mainly action and comedy-oriented, with a sprinkling of black and white classics. I found a few titles in the Adults Only category, but nothing that would suggest he had a bizarre or distributing fetish. Just the typical skin flicks.

I made my way to his home office. Brian left a stack of bills laying on his desktop, including credit card statements and utility bills. The bulk of charges to his American Express were to restaurants and health food stores. I skimmed the titles on his bookshelves. Most of his books failed to grab my attention.

On one shelf were numerous Frommer’s and Lonely Planet travel guides. If these books were souvenirs of the places Brian had visited, he was a well-traveled man. Mixed in the books was a photo album. Now this was a noteworthy find. The album was a collection of photographs arranged chronologically, with really old pictures at the front and more recent pictures towards the back.

I flipped through the pages, unfamiliar faces looking back at me. I found a family portrait, probably taken when Brian was in his early teens. Even with their dated hairstyles and outfits, I could see his parents and sister were extremely attractive, like a family you’d see in advertisements for cosmetic dental procedures. Brian definitely looked more like his father and his sister took after their mother.

I continued flipping through the album, looking at pictures of Brian’s football and basketball teams. Compared to his peers, Brian was better looking. Of course, my opinion was biased. The students who attended his high school were in stark contrast to the students who attended mine. His peers were primarily Caucasian, not like the rainbow of diversity I had in Long Beach. I couldn’t imagine growing up in such a homogeneous environment.

Aware that my time was limited, I skipped a bunch of pages in the album in search of more recent photos. I found several pictures of Brian with another man. Brian looked to be in his early twenties and I guessed his companion to be a few years older. The pictures were taken at different places, some outdoors, some at parties. Most of the pictures made the two look like good friends. One picture caught my attention. In it, Brian and the man were sitting next to each other on a sofa and the man had his arm around Brian. Something in their eyes and the way they smiled told me they had an intimate relationship. I wondered if this was the first and only long term boyfriend Brian had, the one he told me about during our first dinner together.

One odd thing I noticed about the album was how abruptly the pictures ended. The album still had plenty of blank pages in the back, and yet there were no pictures after the series of Brian and his male companion. Weird.

I looked at my watch. It was a quarter ‘til seven. I gave myself five more minutes of snooping before I needed to head back down to the clubhouse. In light of the time crunch, I skipped the guest bedroom and made my way directly to Brian’s master bedroom. I figured if I was going to find anything juicy, surely it was going to be there.

I started with his clothes drawers. Nothing too interesting, but I noted his underwear consisted primarily of Calvin Klein boxers, with a few briefs mixed in, probably for when he ran or worked out. I shifted my attention to his night stand, where I found a leather-bound journal next to a Mont Blanc pen. The thought of Brian sitting at his bed every night, writing his innermost thoughts, was kind of a turn-on for me. Here was this athletic, business-savvy man who also had a soft, gentle side. I refrained from sneaking a peek at a few of his entries. Even I had a line I wasn’t willing to cross. His journal was for his private thoughts, and that's how they should remain – private.

Enough snooping for one day. No major discoveries, which was always a good thing in my opinion. I headed back down to the clubhouse. When I got there, things were really happening. The aroma of teriyaki chicken and beef wafted from the food chafers. The deejay was cranking out Bob Marley tunes and members of the catering staff were busy applying finishing touches. The room really was feeling like a tropical party. The only thing missing were the guests.

It was shortly after seven when Brian’s friends started arriving. Brian planted himself near the entrance, playing the role of the good host and greeting his guests as they walked into the clubhouse. At first, I stuck pretty close to Brian, not knowing anyone else at the party. Brian introduced me as “his friend,” which seemed to be an accurate description for where we were at in our relationship.

After I had met a sufficient number of people, I left Brian's side to mingle with my new acquaintances. Brian's friends were quite friendly, at least on face value. Most of his friends were bankers, investment advisors, and real estate agents, which made sense given Brian's profession. I was amazed that many of them had known Brian for years. Some of them even knew him since grade school.

His friends swapped stories of Brian’s high school and college years. The stories reinforced everything Brian had already shared with me. Almost everyone who went to school with him had a story to tell about how competitive he was when it came to sports and academics. Some of his friends’ battle wounds still seemed fresh, with just a hint of resentment in their voice. He wasn't kidding when he said he was driven and stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. No wonder he was so successful.

Determination was a quality I admired in others and wished I possessed for myself. Instead, my inclination was often to flee in situations where successful people would stay and fight. Raise the white flag and surrender, when others would hoist the black flag and prepare for battle. My natural tendency so far served me just fine, but someday I knew I would find something worth fighting for and I hoped I would find the courage and determination to do so. Funny that in my profession as a personal trainer, being able to help others stick to their goals and persevere was critical. But I rarely did it in my own life. I compared my hypocrisy to the doctor who secretly smoked when no one was looking, or the dentist who flossed only once a week.

I continued making my social rounds. A little after eight, I saw a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, walk through the door. Brian and the man hugged and chatted for a few minutes. Then Brian scanned the room. When his eyes landed on me, he took the man over to meet me.

As the two got closer, I recognized Brian’s friend. He was the same person I saw in the photo album, the one I suspected to be Brian’s former boyfriend. The man looked better in-person than in the photographs. He was definitely attractive, but more in a fatherly way than someone I would want to date. In his younger days, he probably did his fair share of heartbreaking.

The two approached and Brian said, “Jaysen, I want you to meet a good friend of mine. This is Todd Evans.”

Todd and I shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. A group of boisterous guests arrived and Brian excused himself to greet them. As Brian walked away, Todd's eyes followed him to the door. It irritated me that Todd's eyes seemed to be roaming Brian's backside and I wanted to draw his attention to something else.

I asked, “So how do you know Brian?”

“Oh, we've been friends forever,” Todd said. His tone and short response told me he didn't want to elaborate on that topic. I continued my inquisition, hoping to find out more about him.

“What kind of work do you do?”

"I'm a financial advisor.” Then, seemingly more out of obligation than out of interest, he asked me, “What do you do?”

As if he gave a rat's ass. “I work as a personal trainer at a gym.”

“Oh. Is that how you and Brian met?”

“Sort of. I was filling in for a coworker and Brian ended up being my client for a few days. That's how we got to know each other.” My responses were apparently boring Todd, because while I was answering the question he asked, his eyes were focused everywhere else but on me.

“Is that so,” he asked.

I wanted to say, yes, that is so, asshole, but I didn't think that would be appropriate.

“Uh huh.”

There was a long and awkward pause while I waited for Todd to say something more, but nothing came from his lips. He was busy scanning the crowd, probably looking for someone more important to speak with.

After a few more moments of silence, Todd said, “Well, it was nice to meet you.” He didn't even bother to shake my hand before he was off to mingle with the rest of the party.

The whole interaction with Todd made me uneasy. To be precise, it was the way he looked at Brian that annoyed me. I wanted to find Brian and ask him about his friendship with Todd, but decided it wasn't the right time or place. It would have to wait until after the party, when I could have his undivided attention.

By nine, the party was really swinging. The clubhouse was filled near capacity, if not over. The DJ continued to crank out music, eventually replacing the mellow sounds of Bob Marley with a faster mix of dance tunes. Several couples were taking full advantage of the portable dance floor.

Throughout the night, I watched Brian work the room. I envied how comfortable he was interacting with his guests. He even looked natural entertaining the guests of his guests. Being at the party taxed my energy level. While I liked social events, I preferred them on a much smaller scale, maybe a dinner party with a few others, or a night at the bar with a close group of friends. This party required all of my energy, not something I was willing to do for just anyone. Several times, I was tempted to sneak up to Brian’s condo and use his keys I still had in my pocket to hide out. But my desire to please Brian and show I could make nice with his friends won and I stayed at the party.

For the remainder of the night, I made my rounds speaking with guests, while avoiding Todd as much as possible. I had no reason to dislike him, but something didn't quite feel right. Rather than put myself in an uncomfortable situation, I opted to keep a safe distance from him. Sometime after ten, I looked around for Todd, but he was nowhere to be found.

Most of the guests had left by eleven. The few stragglers who remained were too intoxicated to drive home, so Brian and I went from drunkard to drunkard making arrangements for a taxi to take them home. While we waited for the cabs to arrive, the catering staff took down the decorations in the clubhouse. At the very end, the event coordinator found Brian and the two settled the bill. I was dying to know how much a party like this set Brian back financially. It was probably the equivalent of two or three of my paychecks.

When the clubhouse was restored to its pre-party condition, we went back up to Brian's condo. He looked beat and I suggested that I should head home so he could go to bed.

“No, no. I hardly had a chance to talk to you tonight. Can you stay a bit?”

“Sure,” I said. Like I'd turn down a chance to spend time with Brian.

Brian offered me a glass of wine. He poured us two glasses of Port and sat next to me on the sofa.

I took a big swig of wine and it gave me courage to ask Brian about Todd. "So, have you and Todd known each other long?"

"Yea, Todd's like the big brother I always wanted but never had. He was actually the first person I ever came out to. Todd helped me learn the ropes of being gay."

"What's that mean?”

“When I finally felt comfortable coming out to people, I was an adult, in my twenties. Kind of like you, I didn't know how to meet guys. By this point in my life, I was working a professional job and wasn't willing to meet guys at clubs and bars. This was back in the days when online dating had a bad reputation. I met Todd at a coffee house one day and we struck up a conversation. It turned out he had a large network of professional colleagues and friends, many of who happened to be gay. He introduced me to his friends. It made coming out so much easier for me, feeling like I had a community that I could relate to socially and professionally. Todd's been a good friend.”

Brian's explanation of his friendship with Todd made me feel a little better, but I still didn't like the voyeuristic way Todd looked at him during the party. “You're sure he doesn't have a thing for you? I kind of sense that he's interested in you.”

"You're cute when you're jealous,” Brian said with a little smirk.

“I'm not jealous,” I said. It came out sounding a little defensive, so I softened my demeanor and added, “I just got a feeling that he didn't care much for me. That's all.”

Brian could tell I was really bothered and changed his tone. “I promise you, Todd and I are just friends. Besides, he’s not the one I’m interested in.” Then he put down his glass of wine on the coffee table and put his arm around me.

Brian smelled like a mixture of cologne, alcohol, and sweat, a combination that surprisingly made me want to snuggle closer to him, which was exactly what I did. After a few minutes of cuddling, I turned to Brian and kissed him. There was an energy and connection in this kiss that I had not felt before. Maybe it was because I was jealous of Todd and the thought of competition made me want to fight a little harder. Or maybe it was because Brian said he was interested in me. Either way, my feelings towards Brian were growing stronger.

Brian moved away from me and stood up. He reached his hands out and pulled me up from the sofa. We embraced and then resumed kissing. I felt his tongue push against my lips, a slightly odd sensation, but a welcoming one, nonetheless. Not long after, I felt his hands roaming my back and chest. Since Brian initiated it, I felt it only equitable that I should be allowed to do the same. His workout routine was clearly effective – chiseled chest, rippled abs.

Brian pulled away from me again and smiled as we locked eyes. He grabbed my hand and led me to his bedroom. Somewhere along the way, we both lost our shirts. We groped on his California King bed for the better part of an hour. At one point, I felt his hands wander down to the zipper of my shorts. When I pulled his hands away, he was completely respectful of my request. That impressed me and made me fall for him even harder. It was past two o'clock when I left Brian's condo.

I had been afraid to say it before, paranoid that I was reading too much into the situation. But after tonight, I deemed it safe to officially declare that Brian and I were dating.