Chapter 3

My speedy flight back to the flat absolutely wasted me, and the second I got in I practically collapsed in the wicker chair that Derek got me as a flat warming present. It was old and it was rickety but it seemed to fit in with the rest of my home perfectly. I was still feeling rather dazed from the message on the bottom of the receipt. It felt silly to get so worked up over a few lines on paper, but I did not know how to react to such a blatant proposition.

Perhaps this was where my early dating years in London had ruined me. Here everything was about playing games, not in an unkind way, but more like a social dance. Everyone had a pokerface about what was really going throughout their minds, never showing their hands until they had a good idea of what cards the other guy had. I had been pretty good at playing the game before Aidan came on the scene. Unfortunately that left me completely unprepared for someone who actually preferred the direct approach.

My phone jingled in my pocket, an auditory spray of cold water in the face and it broke off my cycle of thoughts about the audacity of the indie boy.

I fished it out and saw it was a response from Rosie,

"What shop are you in right now? Xx" as blunt as ever.

I sent a speedy reply to let her know I was back at the flat. I didn't tell her why, it would of been too tricky to explain, I just didn't have the emotional capacity to condense and summarise it for the benefit of a text.

Her response was just as instant as mine.

"On my way, I'm bringing ice cream and vodka xxx."

I had to hand it to the girl, she certainly did know her way to a sad gay mans heart. Of course it was only just noon, so she had to assume that alcohol was the best remedy, a couple of hours earlier it would of been a bag of chips.

Rosie worked at an HMV a couple of tube stops away, so she would be here pretty quickly. The fact that it was the middle of the day didn't matter, she was engaged to Mike the manager of the branch and he tended to let her get away with a lot. For instance running out after half a day, smoking by the entrance, and on one memorable occasion getting a bit hot and bothered with him in the stock room. That being said on that latter point he had been a willing accomplice so he was hardly going to be in the mood to punish.

Of course that also meant that I didn't have much time to clean up my pig sty of a home. I was a little bit anal about cleanliness when other people were in my personal space. Me on my own and I could quite happily let the mess pile up to the ceiling. But the second I knew there was going to be someone else coming I had to at least attempt to clear it up.

I was tempted to just leave it this once, I didn't feel up to an adrenaline soaked blitz through the flat, especially since Rosie has on more than one occasion destroyed my flat after one or two of our more heinous nights in. Still I could not help it my hands reached immediately for the dirty clothes and I started transferring them to the hamper, along with the bed linen. I had already taken all the plates into the kitchen and started washing em when the buzzer went off on the hall phone. I didn't even bother to check who it was and I pressed the button to let her in the front door, she would then have to climb the stairs a couple of flights to get to me, I had asked her nice why she didn't bother with the lift, and she answered only, "the smell". I gave a quick look round the flat, and regretted that I had not fobbed her off with excuses, the place was still a tip, but it was too late now.

Knock, knock, knock.

I sighed and I went to get the door.

As soon as I opened my home up to her she wasted no time barging past me, If I wasn't used to it she would of trampled me, or crushed me behind the door.

"OK I am sticking the vodka and the freezer, you can thank me for that tonight, but the ice cream is vanilla for you and cookie dough for me, and for that I deserve a nice big smacked in the lips right now," she turned to me and I had one second to appraise her appearance before she gave me a very loud and overly dramatic kiss on the lips. She knew I batted for the other team, but she liked making me uncomfortable.

My Rosie was a 5'8" Irish girl, with bottle red hair that hung about her head in tight curls like a crimson halo. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown and her lips were always bright blood red, and mixed with her hair made her skin a milky pale which brought all the more richness to her colouring. She had an immediate likability to her and when she laughed it was infectious as chicken pox.

She broke away from me eventually and I dramatically wiped my lips.

"Why are gay boys always the best kissers." It wasn't a question, and I felt probably not entirely accurate but I was too used to her ways now to be phased by it. She had turned her back on me and rustled through her bags.

"OK I need a couple of spoons here before I end up with a nice pair of flavoured puddles on the floor."

This was one of the things that defined my relationship with Rosie, we usually bonded over food, drink and snacks. I swear to God I would not ever eat so much if she wasn't piling high another plate for me. We had actually met at a party last year, but we talked like we had known each other our whole lives. She passed me a bowl of vanilla ice cream and walked past me towards the sofa and emphatically threw herself into it, nestling quickly against the arm rest. She drew up her legs so she could rest her own bowl on them, and she looked at me, and I knew what she was going to ask.

"So how are you holding up babes?" It was a question that didn't need answering, she knew me well enough to know I was not handling this well at all.

"Serious truth?"

"Always."

"Im still hoping I get to wake up in a minute. That it was just a very bad dream" with Rosie lies were impossible, but in this case the truth was just as hard. To be truthful with her, I needed to be truthful with myself, and the truth was that I was hurt, and badly.

She just looked at me with those chocolate eyes, and patted the sofa with her free hand, calling me to sit with her. I could not say no, even knowing there would be more questions to come. The well was tapped, and now all that ice water from earlier was beginning to rush to the surface. I sat down and spooned some of my vanilla ice-cream in my mouth, and I kept quiet, I didn't want to volunteer anything yet, things still felt a little too raw for that, but I knew she would question me on something and I would answer.

"Has he called at all?"

"No" I managed, keeping my voice even and as unemotional as possible, "but then after that last slagging match we had I don't think he would."

"Slagging match? Seriously? Where was I?"

"The bar, where else", I smiled to her and she smiled back taking my jab in the humour it was intended. "to be honest it was over so fast, you didn't miss much." Rosie stared at me in a quiet, almost thoughtful way. She didn't break eye contact with me as she ate, begging me with her eyes to continue. "One of the doormen came over when he started yelling ..... so I took it as my cue and left." The memory still felt raw, and my voice had begun to quaver as the corners of my eyes began to sting. I looked up to the ceiling waiting for the emotion to pass so I could continue. "There was just no way that I was going to stay there after I found out about that other guy."

My memory flashed and an image was thrown up like a a poloroid. Aidan, my Aidan kissing someone else. I like to think I'm as liberal as the next man, I know that my ex would give the odd peck on the cheek to his mates, and some of them had been gay men, that never bothered me. But on that night, that felt so close that it might of happened last night, I had seen him in the arms of another man, and It was not a peck on a cheek, it was a proper full on snog. I could still picture the other man, very tall, very topless, and the kind if gym perfect body that made the naturally skinny men of this world weep.

I filled Rosie in on everything that I knew. The man was named Christian, and apparently he had actually dated Aidan a few years previously, but only briefly. He was a tall blonde haired young man from Basildon, and went to the dance academy that was based there, he also managed to secure occasional work as a member of Star Quality, a typically extreme cabaret come gogo dance review which tended to work out of some of the clubs and pubs around town. As a result he became a famous face, and a famous body.

I only found out after Aidan and I had been out for a few months that that they had a brief romance before. I remember the first thing I felt was tremendous inadequacy. This was a gorgeous guy, perfect muscle definition, and am exhibitionist nature, and in looked at myself and I saw a little runt by comparison. Of course Aidan always said he was much happier with me, of course things had changed.

Rosie was as patient as ever, and even when I had finished filling her in on Christian and how he and Aidan knew each other she still kept quiet. In all honesty it was quite eerie, I had never known her to go this long without filling the silence, but I felt grateful too, it meant I had more time to rein my emotions back under control.

"I spoke to him a couple of days after the fight" she said it so quietly and so calmly that I froze, I could hardly believe what it was saying. "He said he was torn up by what had happened, and that he was sorry he hurt you, and that he wanted to talk when you were ready" My head swivelled round so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash as I turned to stare at her, my first impulse to scream and demand to know why she hadn't said sooner, but she cut me off.

" I was going to tell you at the time," I hated how it was almost like she could read my mind.

"Why didn't you?"

"Well.. you weren't picking up the phone," she stammered quickly, hearing the unusual edge to my voice "Then I thought it would be better if I came and told you in the flesh." she reached over and out a hand in my shoulder. "Are you mad at me?"

If I was honest, I wanted to be mad. I could not explain why but somehow it felt like my ex was a personal and private pain. I dont know how it came to be that way, after all Rosie had been friends with him for years before we got together. But still something cold and irrational deep inside me flared white-hot at the mention of his name. But there was my red haired friend with her hand on my shoulder, and her face was etched with guilt. She had only done what she thought was right, how could I let myself be mad at her. The simple answer was "I can't".

I took her hand from my shoulder, and gripped it tightly in my right and I pulled her toward me so she could lean against my chest and I let my other arm rest against her shoulder.

"Of course I'm not mad at you," I filled the words with as much sincerity as I could, trying to harpoon my anger before it crested and emerged. "You weren't the one who cheated and kissed another man..... For once" I turned to her and winked, hoping the light job would clear the air, and she snorted back a laugh in return.

She squeezed my hand for a minute longer, both of us trying to get comfortable in the pregnant silence. Normally it was so effortless for us to talk to each other about anything, but here I could sense that she was walking on egg shells

"Men suck, and not in the good way" she managed after a long moment, still trying to make me laugh. I smiled in response but I could not fake a laugh, I felt raw and exposed again, and I didn't want to risk drawing too much emotion to the surface, I was afraid I would not be able to handle too much feeling to soon.

"So he said he wants to talk?" I felt her go tense as the words left my lips.

"He said anytime you were ready to just call or text him" the words slipped out quickly, she was seriously uncomfortable being the piggy in the middle so I just let the matter slide and decided to think about it later. I knew I wanted to see him, even after all that had happened, there was still the need to see his face. But now the need felt perverse and wrong, I needed to give myself time to sort this out in my head before I did anything else.

"So what did you get?"

"Huh?" I was pulled back to reality with an almost audible thud, "sorry was miles away."

"At the shops. You said you were shopping earlier."

"Ah right." I shrugged. "Nothing much really a couple of shirts and I went for a coffee." suddenly a light went off in my head and I remembered the earlier confusion. "Oh, and you are not going to believe this babes, but I actually got asked out, how weird is that." I actually smiled, I hadn't been expecting it either. My sudden smile seemed to help Rosie to unwind too, she suddenly became a lot chirpier.

"You serious?" She joyfully slapped my arm, "why didn't you say."

"I actually forgot until just now, it was just the most random thing, I think he is new and works at the shop I go to you know the one?" She nodded emphatically. "Anyway I was getting my stuff and I had my back turned because I was texting you at the same time, and he wrote out his name and number on the receipt when he out it in my bag." I reached down to the plastic carrier which was next to the sofa and rummaged through till I found the piece of paper and handed it to her. "Take a look for yourself."

She held the receipt and scrutinised it closely. "Jay." she sighed and pressed the receipt to her chest. "I'm in love already, so tell me is he gorgeous? He's gorgeous right?" she looked at me with a look of mock judgement, but I knew she was actually thrilled.

"I guess so, to be honest I wasn't looking all that closely, had a lot on my mind at the time. I think he is cute in an indie boy sort of way, longish hair really dark, and he did have really nice eyes." She started fanning herself for effect, and I could not help but giggle a little at the sight. Surely this was a drag queen trapped in a girls body.

"What did you say when you text him?"

"I haven't text him at all yet. I don't think i can go out with him." Her facial expression froze and quickly shifted to confusion as if I started speaking a foreign language.

"Why not?"

"Well, it's a bit soon. I mean Aidan and I only split up a few weeks ago. Don't you think?"

She suddenly slapped my arm again but there was no Joy in it, and it did sting.

"Oi, what was that for then?"

"Are you out of your mind? A cute fit boy asks you out and you are worried about your ex?" She puffed herself up in indignation. "Look I know you are a sweet boy, but still I sometimes want to hit you. I mean you have been shut up in here for god knows how long..." she suddenly trailed off

"I know what you are saying, but come on it's been a couple of weeks that's all. I am not sure if I would feel right." It was true, I was never the sort of person who jumped from one man to the next like a boy crazy flea. "I mean I'm sure there has to be some sort of rest period".

"Lovey, that's been and past, besides it looks like a date that's all. Doesn't mean he is going to slip a ring on your finger. Unless-"

"-No!!! I am not in to that" I gave her the dirtiest look that I could manage without laughing back at her.

"What I mean to say is..... It's a date with a cute boy, and between you and me, I think you deserve one after the last few weeks." She suddenly checked her watch. "Look hunny, I need to shoot, I need to get back to work soon."

"What you didn't take the rest of the day off then? Normally Mike let's you wander off whenever you want.

"Weeeell, thats sort of what happens...." she started to look a little guilty "but I didnt ask him before i left. Technically this counts as my lunch break and I think I am going to be seriously late....." She checked her watch again, "I am so going to have to do some sick and wrong things to my boyfriend to get out of this one.

She came close and wrapped her arms around my neck again. "Call me later tonight, and promise me that you will text the cute fit guy."

"Fine, I promise." my stomach suddenly felt like it was dropping through the floor at the thought.

"OK" she whispered. She disengaged herself from me and gave me another of her mischievous smiles, "I expect a full report by tomorrow morning soldier, and don't you chicken out or I will make you give back the vodka." she kissed my cheek and headed for the door. "Tata darling!"

She walked out the door without another word, and I sat there feeling as though a bomb had been let off. The flat suddenly felt empty, and too quiet, and far too untidy. I knew I would have to get into gear and clean up but now I had something more important to do. I knew she would kill me if I didn't text the indie boy, so with far too much reluctance and more than a little trembling in my hands, I pulled out my phone and looking at the receipt I checked the number and started to send a text.

Chapter 2

It did not make any sense to me, but the streets of Soho had taken on an alien quality. The colours seemed to be too bright, the sounds too strange and loud, even some of the people seemed peculiar. But then I reminded myself that peculiar people in the streets of Soho were rather common place, especially on a weekend. If I had to think about it then nothing really was out of the ordinary, the truth was, it was I who had changed, I just was not sure why.

The weather was gorgeous and a pale blue sky loomed overhead. The sun beat down with a relentless heat that quickly brought beads of sweat to my forehead, but there was an occasional blast off cool air that whistled through the tall buildings that refreshed me almost instantly. If this had been a normal Saturday I could easily imagine myself wandering around with a Aidan. We never went out to buy anything, though it never really stopped us going back to the flat laden with heavy bags, admittedly all mine.

It was nice to think of the good times, but the edges of those memories seemed ragged and they were filled with that same hurt, the ache of loss. I tried to think about something else, but found no respite from my feelings.

As I wandered I felt unusually exposed, almost naked. No, naked was not the right word, I felt skinless. Even as I thought the word I knew it sounded mad, but it also felt like a harrowingly accurate description. My protective coating was gone and now I felt fragile, almost like a strong wind might topple me over and I will break again. I hated the rawness of it all, but I tried to turn away from it. If you pick at it, it will not heal, as my kosher once told me.

I checked my watch and saw that it was still early in the day, barely even 10.00 . But even at this relatively early hour the streets were full of early morning shoppers. Of course a lot of them were tourists, looking at the infamous Soho, and a few locals who I recognised and gave a quick nod as I walked by towards the nearest clothes shop.

Like before I felt like I was acting mainly on auto pilot, I had no real desire to rifle through the racks in the shop, but my higher brain functions seem to be too heavily occupied trying to keep the bad memories away.

The shop itself was rather small, with high gun metal grey walls and simple wooden shelves painted to match, and most of its selection was out on display, but it was still one of my favourites. Their clothes always felt good on me and i happened to think they looked good to. My head was still buzzing with unwelcome thoughts, so I wasn't really looking at buying anything, but that didn't stop me from picking up a few shirts. In a way there was comfort in doing this, and I felt much more myself. I pulled off a couple of shirts from the racks and shuffled over to the dressing room. In a shop this size there was only one dressing room, but since it catered for an almost exclusively male clientele it never mattered, and the store wasn't enough of an oddity to appeal to the tourist trade so I didn't need to wait to hop in the cubicle and draw the curtain behind me.

The face that greeted me in the mirror still held echos of the wraith like visage from this morning, it was very unnerving to still see myself that way, even in the midst of my ennui a sarcastic and droll voice piped up in my head.

"Oh so Emo" it said quite plainly.

It was impossible to not smile at the thought, even though it was more of a rueful grin that did not quite reach my eyes. I pulled of the jumper and my shirt and tried on the selection that I had picked up. They were not overly flashy, or shiny or as multicoloured as some of the clothes you saw on the younger twinks these days, but they were nice and suited my figure quite well. As I turned too and fro to observe the effect in the glass I felt that same warmth I had felt in my flat earlier, a kind of comforting wave that seemed to travel in my skin. Even though the icy mass of heartache that sat in my chest had not lessened or been forgotten, this warmth made it feel somehow more manageable.

It was on the basis of that feeling, that I whipped out my debit card to buy them. Anything that could of made me feel better on a day like today was worthy of purchase. At least that's how I was planning to justify it when my statement came through.

The clerk that was meant to be at the till was currently moving clothes to various racks when I got to the desk. He spotted me out the corner of his eye and called over.

"I will be right with you sir."

Sir he called me. Sir!!! Did I look old enough to be a sir ? Then again, maybe today I did. I swallowed back the remark and just nodded and stood waiting for him. I did chance a quick look his way while he worked, and I realised that there was something oddly familiar about him. This being one of my favourite shops I tended to recognise most of the people who worked here, and probably worse was that I came here so often that most of the people who worked here usually recognised me and knew me by name. But I didn't think I has ever seen him here before.

I looked closer, and realised he was a little bit of an indie boy. His dark brown hair was a little long, and he had the sort of naturally slim build that inspired lust as well as loathing, of course I wasn't looking at him in that way, but I could still appreciate he was a bit of a looker. He kept his face turned away, focused on the task at hand, but I had the odd impression he was looking at me from out the corner of his eye, but I dismissed the thought.

He walked over eventually, and I was fully able to see his features, high dark eyebrows and black hair framed his face, and his eyes were a type of cobalt blue, almost grey. I think I realised that I had been taking a little too much interest in his face, so I turned away a little embarrassed that I had been staring. But even as I made a deliberate effort to not look I was still possessed by his seeming familiarity, and I pummelled my memory to try and find his image.

"Just these two then?" his sudden question interrupted my thoughts, as he held up the shirts I had picked out.

"Yes ...... thank you" I corrected myself, there was no need to be ungracious.

He rung up the purchase and I handed over my card, still feeling a little distracted by the strange familiarity. Once I had entered my PIN I decided to turn away and make out that I was looking out the door. I didn't want him to think I was a nut job of some kind, my ego had taken enough battering recently.

I suddenly felt bad when I realised how much the opinion of a complete stranger mattered to me, especially since I had not even made the effort to get in touch with any of my actual friends. What kind of person did that make me?

"Here you go cutey, receipts in the bag" I turned and the clerk handed me a plastic bag, as I pulled out my phone and started letting my fingers do the talking. I was texting Rosie first of all, her threat of violence to my ex made her a stand out as a sudden first port of call. The phrase ex was still not something I was used to, and my throat seemed to constrict slightly at the idea, but I dutifully ignored it.

"hey bird, please keep the bloodshed to a minimum :), I'm just havin a wander round shops right now what you up to? Xx ". I didn't let on any of my emotional baggage, trying to be as flip and aloof as normal. I knew I would not be able to keep it all back from Rosie, but there was no need to pull her into my own personal black hole.

"thanks babe, means a lot x." that was all I could say to Damon, he was a man of few words and usually found this sort of thing difficult. It didn't make him any more or less of a friend, just he didn't believe in the power of textual healing.

I checked the time, and it was still to early to text Callum, he was probably still sleeping off his shift at the bar he worked at. I did not doubt that he would text me back, but I didn't want him loosing sleep over me, it was bad enough that he had probably been worried about me in the first place.

I didnt feel remotely hungry, which worried me a little, but I was still feeling a little weak from my hermit like lifestyle of the past few weeks. So I made a bee line to the nearest cafe. They had put up the chairs and tables outside to welcome the beautiful day, and I decided that it might be nice to sit in the open air. I nipped in to the cafe and put in my order, I think the drink was probably one sixteenth of coffee topped off with lots of whipped cream sprinkles and all sorts of things that were probably very bad for me. But I had a weakness for these confection drinks, and the second I handed over my money I took a deep swig of it while I went back out to sit down.

I knew I was putting off getting in touch with Derek, he may of been my best friend, but he was also something of a surrogate parent, so I knew he would be angry that I had not text him in so long. I sat at the table trying to write out the text in several different ways, but somehow I just could not string the words together, which was rather worrying, since I had never really known what it was like to be lost for words. In the end I gave up and put my phone down, and started to chip away at my coffee, still feeling the same guilt that I didn't know how to talk to my best friend. At that moment that cold place that still whirled and raged within me suddenly began to warm, then to heat, and before I knew it I felt as though I had been filled with a scalding liquid. I was angry with myself, and I acted without thinking and I just picked up the phone, dialled the number and put the receiver to my ear.

The phone hadn't even been ringing for a second or two before he picked up.
"Thank god, I thought I was going to have to go over and break down your door" even though I could not see him, I could hear the smile in his voice, I could not stop myself from laughing.

"Hahaha, well you would of gotten a shock if you had made the trip and seen I wasn't there."

"You went out? Even better, where are you?"

"Just sitting down and enjoying a coffee right now," I quickly took a quick swig for effect. "Other than that I have just been wandering round shops, bought some new shirts."

"Sounds like you are feeling better then?" I could tell from his hopeful tone that he wanted to be right. I wanted to respond in the positive, that I had pushed past the bad feeling and was my own normal self again. This however was the one man who knew me well enough that he could tell when I was lying.

"Almost," it was the best I could do to keep my voice level, the ice inside me was swirling again at the thought of my isolation and the reason behind it. I added "one day at a a time.... I guess" optimism never hurt.

"Well as long as you are ok, you fancy coming over for dinner tonight, I think I could whip up my famous lasagne". I knew he was playing dirty, he knew that was my favourite, and for the first time in I don't know how long I felt properly hungry.

"Haha, twist my arm why don't ya. Sounds fun, but can we make it tomorrow night? I have a few things to do at the flat so I think I'm going to spend the night cleaning up". It was true, the place looked an awful state as I was leaving, and I didn't like living in mess.

"Fine by me," he said the right words but there was a slight hesitation in his voice I didn't like. "you are ok aren't you?" There was nothing but sincerity on the end of his question, and suddenly I felt the corners of my eyes stinging as somewhere in the dark recesses of my head I wondered about that question too.

"Of course" I said with a fake smile spreading on my face. "See you tomorrow, bye". I hung up quickly, cutting him off. I didn't like to dwell on my feelings, and this was the wrong day to do that.

As my coffee cooled I decided to take a closer look at the shirts I had just bought, and see if I would wear one of them for dinner with Derek. As I pulled one of them out however a folded piece of paper slipped out from the fabric. I picked it up swiftly and saw that it was the receipt, but my eyes were suddenly drawn to the bottom.

There written in black biro was a phone number, and beneath that was short message.

I know it's a long shot but here's my number. I hope you use it. Jay xx.

I didn't know a Jay but it was clear to me that only one person could of written this note. The indie boy must have written it when my back was turned. Then like a ton of bricks I was hit with the realisation that he had actually called me cutey as I left the shop. I was dazed, confused, and suddenly speechless. I drank the rest of the coffee in one gulp, and I half walked half jogged back to the flat. There was only so much stimulation I could handle in one day.