Date: Thu, 13 Oct 2005 06:00:26 +0000
From: Jeff STL <jeffstl@hotmail.com>
Cc: jeffstl@hotmail.com
Subject: Office Fantasy / Chapter 18

I wake up, it's 10:00am.  It's been a fitful night of sleep.  The vision of
Scott in bed with that guy, Bill, kept haunting my sleep.  No matter what I
did, I kept hearing Scott's pathetic cry for mercy.  How could he?  How
could that little bastard expect me to sit there and listen to him after
coming home to find that...that....OH!  I can't even think about it.

I get up out of bed for the umpteenth time and pace the room naked.  Walking
over to the window, I pull the curtain aside and sit sort of half on-half
off the window sill.  I'm on the 3rd floor, and it doesn't dawn on me that
the whole world can see my body.  I stare off at the hills, which look like
a miniature mountain range.  How beautiful.  The mist from the morning rises
off them.  I imagine that I'm in a cabin, no one around...peaceful, serene.
Suddenly I become aware of eyes, and I glance down to notice the grounds
staff looking up at me, pointing and laughing.  I also realize I'm buck
naked.  Giving them a hateful look, I flip them off, and walk away, the cold
feeling of the sill still on my balls.

Flopping down in a chair, I sit and stare at the wall.  I glance at the
clock, and it hits me:  it's after 10.  I'm LATE!  Sighing, I resign myself
to the inevitable.  I walk over and call my boss.  As expected, his patience
has worn thin.  I'm being put on warning.  One more screw up and I'm out of
there.  I tell him I understand, and that I'm on my way.  Hanging up the
phone, rage wells up within me.  I throw myself on the bed -- how Scarlett
O'hara -- and scream into the mattress, pounding the bed with my fist.  I
get up from the bed, and walk over to the bathroom once I've gotten a grip
on myself, and take a close look.  I look like shit.  But then, shit is what
shit is, right?

I take a quick shower and put on the same clothes I had on last night.
Luckily, they don't stink too badly.  I can't shave because I left
everything at the apartment...HIS apartment.  I make up my mind that I'm
moving out as soon as possible.  I leave the hotel, nodding to the clerk,
and walking past my peeping toms...jackoffs.  They nudge and snicker, and I
ignore them.  Who cares?  The more I walk, the madder I'm getting.

I drive carefully down I-44 east toward Downtown. I get to the garage, park,
and walk stiff-legged to the building.  I get to my desk, log in, and
immediately start pounding through work.  Daniel walks by, glancing in, but
I ignore him.  Fuck him, I snarl to myself.  Lunch rolls around, but I
ignore the pangs in my stomach.  The bastards want work, they'll get work.
Calls come in, but get ignored.  No one I want to talk to.  Scott, then Mom,
then Scott again.  The voice mail light flashes tauntingly at me.  The hours
fly by, a rarity, to be sure.  I guess when one devotes full concentration
to getting stuff done, time can do that.  I finish up the last bit, not
caring about quality at all, print off the reports, and march into Daniel's
office.  I fail to knock.  Dropping the reports from about 2 feet above his
desk, I surprise myself.

"Here are your fucking reports that you're so fucking worried about.  And
now, I fucking QUIT!"  I remove the key to my desk from my ring, toss it on
his desk, and storm out, leaving him with a shocked look on his face.
Grabbing an empty paper box, I collect the few personal items I had, log
off, and walk to the elevator.  Daniel runs up after me.

"Jesse, stop.  Don't do something you're going to regret.  I know I came
down hard on you this morning, but I'm trying to shake you back into reality
man.  You're losing it, and you're jeopardizing your career.  Believe it or
not, I'm trying to HELP you."

I ignore him, my teeth about to explode from the pressure of my gritting
jaw.  Where is that fucking elevator?  Taking a deep breath, I turn and face
him.

"Daniel, maybe you don't get what I've been going through.  Maybe you can't
stand having a faggot on your team."  (I bite that word off bitterly)  "All
I know is my life is a fucking nightmare, nothing seems to go right, and I'm
doing what I can to keep from doing something I WILL regret."

He touches my arm gently, then sees the danger in my eyes and quickly
retracts.  "Look, come back in my office, let's talk about this.  You're a
good worker, Jesse, I don't want to lose you.  Honest."

The elevator FINALLY arrives, and I give him one last look directly in the
eye, then walk onto the elevator.  He drops his arms in resignation.  As the
doors close, he says,

"I'll hold your position, in case you change your mind, but I can't..." and
he's cut off by the closing doors.  As I walk back the car, each step
reminds me of what I just did...what I just gave up.  As I get to my car,
I'm in full panic as I realize I have no way to pay for this thing now!
But, I can't go back.  I can't face him now.  I've done it.  I've screwed up
the last thing in my life.  I get into the car, and again carefully drive
back down I-44 toward Allenton.

Back in my room, I pull off my shirt and shoes, and sit on the edge of the
bed.  I feel so lost.  I'm alone now.  I have no job, no home, no
family...wait....family.  I remember that Mom called me earlier.  I figure
they haven't shut my ID's off at work yet, since Daniel said he's holding my
job.  I call my voicemail, and sure enough, I can get in.

There are eight messages for me.

"First message - Jess, this is Scott.  We need to talk.  Please call me.
I'm working tonight, so leave me a message so I know where to call you
back."

"Second message - Hi, honey!  Dad and I were just wondering how you were
doing.  Dad's doing really good!  He's sticking to his diet, and he says
he's never felt better.  We're walking each night to help him get his
exercise and Josh has taken some of his case load to lighten up his stress.
Oh, speaking of walking, did you know that there is a new pair of shoes out
there.... "  and she's off and running.  I push "3" to delete her message.
Mom can go on forever.

"Third message - Jesse, it's Scott again.  I'm worried about why you're not
at work.  Your boss called here at 9:30.  Please call me.  I don't blame you
for being mad, but we NEED to talk."

"Fourth Message - Jesse, where ARE you?'

"Fifth Message - Hi Jesse, it's Leslie.  I was just worried about you.  I
hope you're feeling better.  I wish you would have stayed here last night.
Jonathan called this morning to see how you were too.  I think he really
likes you, which I hope you feel the same way.   Anyway, call me at work
later, ok?  Bye."

"Sixth Message - Jesse, this is Steven.  Can you please call me about that
testing plan we discussed?  I have some questions.  Thanks.  0-1239"

"Seventh Message - Jess, it's Dr. Frederick.  You missed your session today.
  Can you please call me and reschedule?  Remember, this is a mandatory
treatment due to ..." DELETE

"Eight Messsage - Jesse, it's Daniel.  I'm sorry about what happened today.
I can't say I know what all is going on.  That's why the referral to EAP.
But, I'm concerned about you, you need to believe that.  I'm going to
pretend I didn't hear your resignation today.  Let's just say it didn't
happen.  If you want your job back, just come in tomorrow.  But, as I
started to say, after three days, if you're not here, I have to consider it
job abandonment.  That's an automatic termination.  So, even if you still
want to quit, you need to call me.  It'd be better to quit than to get
terminated for that reason, ok?  OK, call me.  Bye."

I hang up.  Well, I guess I have options.  Or do I?  Even if I go back, what
is he going to think of me?  I decide to call Scott.  I need to close this
one out.  After the third ring, a man answers.  "Hello."

I sit there, unable to speak.  It's him.  Bill.  "Uh, hi.  Is Scott home?"

Suddenly suspicious, and maybe jealous?, he answers "No.  He's not.  Who is
this?"

I hang up.  I pull out my wallet and remove a small post-it note.  Scott's
pager number.  I call it and leave a call-back number.  Sure enough, in 5
minutes, he calls back.

"Hi, this is Dr. Landry, I was just paged to this number?"

"Hey." I say flatly.

"Jesse!" he breathes with relief.  Then he lowers his voice.  "I've been
worried about you.  I want to talk to you about what happened."

"What HAPPENED" I bite off angrily, "is that you fucked around on me.  You
told me you thought you were falling for me, and then THIS?  What GIVES,
man?"  I'm pissed beyond words.

"I know.  I know." he sobs into the phone.  "I can't explain it either.  I
thought I was over Bill, but he showed up and everything just fell back into
place."

"THAT is the most pathetic..." I stop, unable to finish.

"Look, Jesse, I really do truly like you, but I think I was equating sex
with love, and I realized that's not fair to you.  I just haven't found
myself feeling about you like I do about Bill." he explains.

"Bill?  He LEFT you, remember?  He broke your HEART, remember?!" I explode.

"Yes, of course I do," he replies, as if saying I'm an idiot.  "But he says
he loves me and he's sorry for what he did, and well, we're going to see a
couples counselor.  I have to try, Jess."

I process this.  "So you fucking used me." I conclude.

"NO!  I didn't....well,...I didn't MEAN to if I did, but I thought..." he
attempts.

"Fuck that.  It doesn't matter.  You're not who I thought you were, Scott.
So fine, you want Bill, you got Bill.  I hope you two will be VERY happy
together." I spit out.  Tears start streaming down my face.  "When will you
be gone so I can come get my stuff?"

A sigh.  "Jess, you don't have to move out..." he starts, but stops as if
realizing, "well, on second thought, maybe it would be better for you.  Tell
you what, Bill and I will go out tomorrow night after 6:00.  You take all
the time you want or need, and then page me from my phone when you're done
so I'll know when you're leaving.  OK?"

"Whatever."  and I hang up.  I'm pacing the room again, desperation setting
in.  I can't go back to Leslie...she wants a REAL man.  Don't blame her.
Can't go back to Mark, he doesn't even want to talk to me anymore, and I
don't blame him, despite what he did to me.  Can't go home.  Can't burden
Dad.  He needs his rest.  Doesn't need his twisted pervert of a son raising
his blood pressure.  Can't go to Josh's...he has his own family.  Doesn't
need a faggot brother hanging around, taking up space.  By now, my anxiety
is so high, I'm about to throw up.  Palms are sweating, I'm shaking, and I
can't sit still.  I walk down to the elevator, still in just my jeans, and
go up to the top floor.  I find the roof access and walk out.  The cool
night air hits my bare skin.  I look up, asking "WHY".  No answer.  At
least, not an audible one.

I walk over to the edge of the roof, looking at the lights of Eureka and Six
Flags twinkling.  The tears start coming, and there's no stopping it.  My
life is in ruins.  There's nothing left.  Several stories down, some little
ladies are pointing up at me.  Mocking.  No, not mocking.  They're getting
hysterical.  How cute.  I sit down on the edge of the roof, my legs hanging
over.  Cars go by on I-44, and on the outer road as people come and go from
Six Flags.  I glance down.  Long drop...  The little ladies hurried into the
lobby and are pulling an employee out, pointing and gesturing hysterically.
I sob as I feel my life has no meaning.

A voice behind me.  "Hey fella, please...don't jump."  Jump?  That'd be
silly...and yet...  "Come on, man, come down off of there.  Please..."  A
police car with its lights flashing races into the lot, and comes to a stop
by the old ladies.  Red white and blue lights...how pretty.  Sudden resolve
hits me.  "Stay away from me!" I order the man behind me.  He stops, holding
his hands out.  "Ok buddy, ok...just don't move, ok?"

I turn back, a fire truck has joined the cop car.  A small crowd gathered.
All looking at me.  Come to see the freak of nature, did they?  My life is
over, what does it matter.  A helicopter, a bright light.  Great, televise
the queer, I think bitterly.  The tears don't stop.  The pain won't go away.
  Maybe it's for the best....

To be continued....