Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2017 08:53:37 +0000 From: Chezdon <chezdon1997@gmail.com> Subject: Innocence Waning Chapter 30 Chapter 30 [6 days later.] My morning erection is the result of the memory of the encounter that I had at Westgate Park nearly three weeks back. The middle-aged man with unkempt hair that admired me whilst he caressed his boner at the trough in the public toilet has left me rock-hard. I ignore his unshaven face and flash forward to James squatting over the bottle of Pepsi, the lips of his anus kissing the rim of the plastic bottle filled with water. An imaginative encounter with me inside his dark and warm holiest of holes and enjoying intercourse with him aggressively like I did with Austin brings me close to orgasm. I stop and take a deep breath fondling my lonely genital, edging myself closer to completion. The lurid memory of suckling Jayden's phallus then sends my arm into overdrive as I can all but taste him as I suck him to ejaculation at the same time I orgasm. I relish the memory of the salty bitter taste of his cum and massage my tight anus with my finger. The all too familiar feeling of warm semen running down my thigh leaves me staring out the window, this time without any regard for the weather, the view of the skyline, time passing or even the wet stain that is growing on my blue sheet. A loud rapping on my bedroom door causes me to jerk and nearly roll off my bed as I camouflage myself. "Chezdon, you had better be up. You can't be late!" Mel shouts. I quickly pull my duvet up to my face, letting it absorb my viscous emission just in case Mel does throw the door open, I need to be prepared. "Yeah, I am up, will be ready in fifteen." I suppose I am up both figuratively and literally. When I am confident that Mel has toddled off to drink her tenth cup of coffee and consult the newspaper, I throw the duvet and wet blue sheet away from my naked body and stride to my bathroom. My morning routine of primping and preening is drawn out for an additional minute as I spend time ensuring that every strand of the hair on my head is frozen into its correct place. It is going to be a very long day and I must watch out for open flames for fear my hair will light up like a torch considering how much hair spray I sprayed on and into it. Predictably, Mel is reading a broadsheet newspaper and drinking coffee from a mug as I turn the corner and walk into the kitchen. "Good morning. Don't drink any coffee just yet Chez. Give the dentist a break." I am tasked to finally visit the tooth fairy after leaving home today for a routine clean and a check-up. Mel insisted that I keep my appointment despite the hectic schedule that I must adhere to even though my teeth will not end up any whiter. The last time I engaged the tooth fairy for a consultation, I quizzed him about getting my teeth whitened. I was shocked to learn that the nanny state of Australia has banned the specific process that I was interested in. Mel sips from her mug and sets it down on the newspaper. "I know you are under some stress right now Chezdon, but there are a few things we need to discuss so I can get the appropriate paperwork filed today." I blankly stare at the coffee machine and repress my desire for a taste. I promise myself that I will buy three or even four cups after my visit to the tooth fairy if time allows. "Mel, I don't get stressed, I give stress." I smile wide and place my hands flat on the white marble kitchen island to cool them down. "Go for it, I don't care. I am not fussed." Fuck, I would kill for some caffeine. "I spoke with your mother. I also spoke with Julie McGuire a few times last night. I want to get us past all of this conjecture and finalise these convoluted financial arrangements." Mel leans back, pulls her hair back and ties it up into some elaborate Gordian knot. "In theory, what you proposed to give to the McGuire family will stand. Although they can never prove what Daniel admitted here, they have decided to kill any further action provided what you promised them with respect to your mother's estate is put into place." "Kill seems to be a queer word to use." I cough and walk to the refrigerator and yank out a bottle of water. "I always said that I didn't want any of Voldemort's fortune." "That may be the case so it has been structured that when your mother passes, her remaining assets will be put in a trust. You will have access to the fund when you turn twenty-five. Also, when you are graduated from Melbourne Grammar, the McGuire's will begin making a monthly payment to you which will cover the appreciation of the property asset that you are in turn gifting to them based upon the inflation figure. This way you can go to University and not worry about having to work or even take a gap year and travel if that is what you want. When you turn twenty-five, you can do whatever you want with the other assets. You can gift them to charity or even 5 Seconds of Summer if you want. I suspect in nine years you will have a different perspective, but you have a nine-year cooling off period. I drink water from the plastic bottle. "That sounds fair enough." The arrangement seems reasonable. "God, imagine the date that I could go on with Ashton Irwin if I have those funds available to me. What a night it would be!" "How very mature of you, Chez. I am impressed." Mel stands up and rolls her eyes, walks to the kitchen and refills the mug off coffee. "What is shocking is that I actually know who you are talking about." "Did you find out anything about Shaun O'Connor?" I begin to twirl the bottle of water in its place. "Did he have a will or anything like that?" "Your mother wouldn't say much about him. Julie told me that your mother is so ashamed that she will not even leave her house." Mel walks behind me and sits in front of the newspaper again and sets the mug of coffee down carefully on a photo of Hillary Clinton. I am confident that if I looked through the newspaper I would find an article about the latest political outrage in Australia. The government minister that Mel was in court representing when Jayden was hit by the car had a nefarious relationship with Shaun. They were in some sort of private group on the dark web that were sharing pictures of underage children. The most satisfying part of this scandalous story was that Shaun had intended to commit suicide on the night that he smashed into the kangaroo on the Hume highway by accident. Besides finding a suicide note at the scene, a cache of digital photos, e-mails and a laundry list of names were discovered at the crash site. This information led the cops to the doorstep of our honourable state minister of transport funnily enough the same night that I was enjoying Austin's company in my bed. Austin spoke about karma last weekend and I am starting to believe in it the concept myself. "I can't speak much about the particulars Chez, but Shaun's assets will be seized as part of government legislation." I not only smile but laugh with a sinister tone. "Your mother and I had a chat about what you said about Shaun when you were at her house. I really think we need to talk about this more but only when you are ready. Whether it is tomorrow, a month from now, or never, I will leave that decision to you. Just know your mother is deeply sorry and hopes that you will speak to her again so she can apologise." Mel's eyes begin to become teary. "No reason to make the start of today so dark Mel. There will be enough talking about death and despair later today. I get it though. I will ring my Voldemort tomorrow. After all the shit that took place here with Daniel last week, I think I want to at least talk about things with her and if it makes her life a bit better, she deserves that much." Mel sniffs. "That is very mature of you Chez. I am proud of you." She slowly sips from the mug and makes a point of looking up at the ceiling, as she composes herself. "You should also know that I am not leaving. It doesn't matter what your father does or has done, I am not going to walk away from you." "That is very mature of you Mel. I am proud of you." I smile and Mel bursts out laughing. "But thanks. That does make me happy. Daniel sent me a message sometime in the middle of the night. With all this serious conversation, I forgot to tell you." "Oh?" Mel slowly sips from the plain white mug. "Do tell." "He sent a message not only apologising yet again, but he wished me luck today. He also asked me to tell you that he paid my tuition for next year." I start to swirl the plastic bottle on its axis again. "He is in Macau. China." She sets the mug down on the photo of Hillary Clinton gently once again. "I want to talk about that with you sometime this weekend too. At some point I need to fly to Macau to meet Daniel and sort out an arrangement. He knows not to come back to this apartment, but I need to work out a way forward with respect to our financial relationship. There is an element of wealth involved and I don't want him gambling it all away. We can deal with that later though. I want you to stay positive and focus on your speech. You are ready, aren't you?" Mel stands up, drinks the last of the coffee in her mug and walks past me towards one of the sinks in the kitchen. "That is cool. Yeah, I am ready for the most part." I stop myself from touching the back of my head as I don't want to mess up my hair. "You know what they say, Mel." "What's that?" "You can pick your friends, but not your family. I am very happy that I can call you both." Mel takes a step toward me and we hug one another. "I hope you are ready and have that many kind words jotted down for your speech later. Seriously though, you have finished it?" Mel pats me on the back and then opens the refrigerator. I pick up the bottle of water. "I think of it as a rough draft. How can it ever be finalised? I am practicing for ultimately speaking not only at Voldemort's funeral but also Daniel's at some point, and that is weighing on me to be honest." I shrug my shoulders and screw the cap on the bottle with extra torque. "Jesus, Chezdon. Don't be so morbid. I am sorry that I can't be there with bloody court and all. I wish that Minister was with Shaun in the car when he met his demise, my life would be so much easier." Mel walks toward me and begins to adjust my tie. "Are you taking Jayden with you?" "Can I ask you a question?" Mel reaches over and begins to undo my tie. She begins to reconfigure it into a different knot that I have no clue as how to tie. "Sure. Almost anything." She smiles. Strangely I quickly think of the McGuire home invasion before opening my mouth. "The concept of being a friend versus a lover. Do the dynamics change as you get older?" I move the newspaper, allowing me to skim the headlines whilst Mel continues to work on the knot, gradually tightening it around my neck. "I don't know what you mean." "I guess what I want to know as you get older, are you friends for a shorter amount of time before two people become lovers? Is the notion of friendship between two people less important as you get older?" Mel pulls down on my tie, pinches the knot with her fingers and steps back. "Perfect." Mel picks up her phone and quickly looks at the display. "I think it is the opposite as you get older Chez. Friendship becomes much more important and if it evolves to people becoming lovers, the relationship tends to be stronger." "Were you and my father considered friends for very long then before you became lovers?" I tilt my head to the side and chew on my thumbnail like Austin would. I seem to have picked up his annoying habit. "We can talk about that later. You need to go to the dentist. This might sound stupid but can I take a selfie of us?" Mel smiles and begins swiping at her phone. "I don't think it is a selfie if there are others in the photo, Mel." I chuckle. "Go for it." "Don't give me shit Chez, I get enough of that in court." She wraps her arm around me and I tap my hand on her head and then wrap my arm around her. She extends her arm and takes a few photos whilst we stare at the lens of her Galaxy S6 like foolish children. I can't help but smile though. I kiss her on the cheek which surprises her and the last photo that she takes demonstrates her shock, which is classic. "I know what I am using as my wallpaper now." She begins to tap her phone with her finger incessantly. I smile and grab my bottle of water. "Oh god. Send me those photos please." "Will do." Mel finishes fiddling with the phone and slips it into the pocket of her suit jacket. "April is the cruellest month. Check out the poem by T.S. Elliot. It could put things in perspective since this month hasn't exactly been the greatest for you." Mel looks at her watch. "Seriously, you need to get to the dentist and I need to go. Let me know what is going on later and I will try to join you or at least pick you up, no promises though. Good luck, Chez." I hug Mel again before she picks up her bags and walks toward the foyer. Having noticed an interesting by-line in the newspaper earlier when I was hugging Mel, my eyes are drawn to it yet again. `More police patrols expected for the Port Melbourne nude beach." ~ "Open your mouth please, Chezdon." The tooth fairy asks with both goggles and a mask obscuring his face as he hovers over me. He pokes, prods and scrapes at my teeth and gums. "Okay, Chezdon. You can rinse out your mouth." The chair that I am laying on begins to hum and it returns me to a sitting position. The dentist removes his mask and goggles revealing his cartoon-like face. "You are still drinking a fair amount of Coke, aren't you?" Assuming he is talking about what I put in my mouth, I am eager to respond. "Not that much, I have cut back." I honestly have. I used to drink far more Dr Pepper and Coke but after all the lectures from the dentist and the cost of cans of Dr Pepper being extortionate in Australia, I have cut my consumption dramatically. "Seriously mate!" The dentist flashes me an apprehensive look. "What I am seeing is a bit of erosion since the last time we took an X-ray. I can fill in your molars to compensate today, however I really need you to cut out those sorts of drinks. Once the dentin on your teeth disappears, that is it, there is no coming back from that. We have never talked about how much coffee you drink, but you need to keep that to a minimum too as that is highly acidic and will also stain your teeth." The dentist looks less than impressed with my oral hygiene. "Do you drink coffee?" "Oh really? I do probably drink too much coffee." "Coffee is highly acidic. If you were older I would tell you to keep the wine to a minimum as that is somewhat acidic also. Something to consider for the future." I feel the inside of my mouth and wipe my teeth with my tongue. "Honestly when I was younger, I had an eating disorder. It is something that I manage now. I suppose vomit doesn't help teeth, does it? The only time I vomit now is occasionally when I drink too much." I chuckle but the look on the face of the tooth fairy doesn't change. "Yes, Chezdon. Your X-rays show that there is thinning of the enamel on the backs of your front teeth, but that hasn't progressed for some time so I do assume that you have that unfortunate condition under control." The concept of control makes me roll my eyes. If he knew how out of control the last three weeks of my life have been he would not only be mortified but also wonder how I haven't resorted to the lost art of purging again. "Don't take it personally as I tell everyone the same thing. Coke, Diet Coke, coffee, give it up. I can fill in your eroded molars today or we can make another appointment if you want." I have money available in my bank account and would prefer not to have to come back and sit in the chair for six more months so with some enthusiasm I proclaim, "let's sort it out now." The tooth fairy works my mouth over as he tells me about the trip that he recently made to Europe. I gargle and spit a few times when it is suggested that I do so and ultimately pay the bill by swiping my debit card. The wise words from the dentist distract me from further formulating the speech that I must make soon and his words leave me pondering my own life since I moved to Melbourne as I walk out of the building. When I first moved to Melbourne, I felt that I had no control over my life or my body. I was resentful for having to having to leave my friends in Sydney behind. The only control I thought I had was over what I effectively put in my body. As the marriage between Daniel and Kelly quickly disintegrated around me I thought keeping control was exercising it over myself since I could not control anyone else or even where I lived. I could control the excommunication of my mother. My father in turn could control not having any more children. I could control not coming out of the closet and not being outed at school. Extreme levels of control have not been healthy for me or my family and have played out like a tennis match. My teeth have turned out to be innocent bystanders in my silly quest for control. I know I can do better, not only taking care of my teeth but relationships in general. I get that now. ~ "Mr Morrison. Chezdon. May I speak with you?" I turn around and see the headmistress of Melbourne Grammar School. Her minions are forming a phalanx behind her all holding phones and tablets and fortunately for me not spears and shields. "Yes, miss?" She tugs at her suit jacket. Her perfectly coiffed hair resembles the photos that I have seen of Margaret Thatcher. She has accessorised pearls to her wardrobe for today's event. "Please remove that piercing from your face. You are representing this institution today. Whilst you do that I would feel more comfortable reviewing the speech that you are going to read." The iron lady extends her bony hand towards me. Her gold and diamond bracelet noticeably rattles against her Rolex watch. I quickly tug on my lip piercing and remove it. I never planned to wear it later. I unfastened it earlier and was going to wait until the last possible second to remove it as I don't want the hole in my lip to start to close. I place the piercing in her hand. "Chezdon, no, not that. Thank you though, you are very kind. I would like to review your speech if you do not mind." "Honestly, I have notes and not a complete speech written." I notice that my accent has slightly changed since the piercing is no longer molesting my tongue. "I am ready though." "That is unacceptable, Chezdon. I know your stance on religion and I can't have you bringing this school or its reputation into disrepute. You are going to at least acknowledge religion, aren't you? This is too important not to." The headmistress appears flustered. I have never seen her show any emotion and even her minions appear to be frazzled. "This is not only important for your school, but it will follow you for all posterity." She stands up straight, arches her back and once again pulls down on her black suit jacket. "This is the most stressed that I have been in my thirty-year career in education. I don't agree with you doing this speech. Why did you agree to it? You don't even believe in a God and I know from talking to these people-" She quickly turns and motions to her minions. "That you hold this place in contempt. Christ, Chezdon." She pauses. "Just for the love of Christ, don't talk about the policy that we debated with respect to the restrooms." I really think that the stress of this event and the ensuing events from the last week has gotten to the headmistress and wore her out. She finally grasps my lip piercing in her hand like a nugget of gold and places her clasped hands in her suit pockets. I watch Sky News setting up a television camera in the distance over her shoulder. "It will be fine, I won't let you down, Miss. If you don't like what I say, don't give me back that piercing. I really want it back or else the hole in my lip will close, so I have a motivation to perform well." I want to perform well. She doesn't need to know how motivated I really am though. She scoffs. "Your lip piercing stands in the way of me keeping my job or not. Fine, I will give this back to you when and if." She pauses and then remains silent. I believe she has run out of words to say. I feel like chuckling, but I am too wound up myself and know that this will be a defining moment in my young life. I am scared shitless but I can't let her know that. I can't let anyone know that. The headmistress turns and walks away from me and towards the Sky News cameraman with her minions following her. I walk outside St Peters chapel and around the corner, propping myself up against the bluestone wall once I find some shade. I am far enough from not only the public viewing gallery but also the people milling around where I can relax. I feel as if I have been speaking for six days straight and I am exhausted. I just want to sleep for a week and I still have `date night' to look forward to tonight. Of course, I might not make it if the public tar and feather me if I make a pitiful performance shortly like so many people expect. Why did I agree to this? I am surprised that with the recent scandal with my nudes being shared on Instagram that the school didn't toss me out let alone agree to let me speak today. When Australian's google Chezdon Morrison will they discover I am the son of Daniel, the successful entrepreneur? Perhaps Kelly, who is the wannabe Real Housewife of Melbourne? Or will they find my nudes on Instagram, silly Twitter rants and a sad performance on YouTube as an aside on what should be a day celebrating life. I need to do well. I owe it to him for saving Jayden's life. My phone vibrates and I remove it from my suit pocket. I see Malcolm is ringing me and I hope it is not bad news as that is what he is good for reporting as of late. I convey where I am answering his innocent request. After a few minutes, he finds me with my back propped up against the bluestone wall of the church. "Hey mate. How are you doing?" Malcolm queries me with a smile. "Mate, I am nervous as fuck." I begin to chew on a fingernail and wonder where Austin is. "Don't let it get around though." I manage to smile with my fingernail stuck in between my freshly polished teeth. "How many people do you reckon are out here?" Malcolm asks whilst typing a message on his phone. "Three hundred or so in the chapel and there are seats for seven hundred out here but I have been told there could be up to two thousand people ready to heckle me. Why do you think I am hiding here in the shadows?" If the kids on X-Factor and Australia's Got Talent can embarrass themselves in front of a studio audience this size and a wider national television of around a million people, I figure, I don't have anything to lose, really. Who watches Sky News anyway? "Mate, you wouldn't mind giving me some alone-time, would you? I am not even sure of what I am going to say yet." Shocked from my words, Malcolm drops his phone. "You don't have a speech ready? Fuck me Chezdon." He retrieves his phone from the ground. "Okay mate, I will catch you later. Will catch up with you afterwards, if you haven't been stoned to death. Good luck." I snicker and look up the side of the bluestone wall that I am leaning against. "If they kill me, at least they will not have to move my body far. Just dig a hole here and toss me in mate." Malcolm laughs and then hugs me. "You will do great mate. Later." He walks off in the direction of the white chairs that are quickly being set upon by bodies. A large outdoor weatherproof television has been erected and the live video is currently streaming displaying the alter and the opus sectile panels inside of the church. Sky News must have set up another camera to film that perspective. I sigh, grasp my phone in my hand and pull the plastic ID pass that I was issued before walking back to the entrance of the chapel. The smartly dressed security agent scans the pass with a wand and frisks me before allowing me to enter the restricted area again. I wander along the perimeter of the church, admiring the carved details of the reredos. I have been in here at least three hundred times but I have never paid much attention to the detail on the walls until now. The sunlight bursting through the colourful stained glass on the west side of the mediaeval Gothic structure motivates me to pause and reflect. Not about religion or my place in this world, but the here and now. Right here and right now. I really need to get my shit together. I would feel much better about what is about to transpire if Mel was here with me. I imagine the ghost of Shaun is indirectly haunting me in this holy place and it makes me cringe. Him and his dodgy mates sharing photos of children in the dark recesses of the web has kept Mel from being here in one of my moments of need. It does make me smile knowing that the kangaroo prevented him for committing suicide though. Whatever result today brings, he is gone and certainly will not be forgotten. Reflecting as I stare at the illuminated stained glass, I can't help but wonder what I am destined for next. Three weeks ago, I thought I knew what I wanted out of life, but everything has changed and an ominous sense of dread envelops me when I see Austin and his parents walk through the doors of the western entrance to the chapel. Kevin McGuire must donate a substantial amount of money to this school to get his family access to this event, but as a megalomaniac, he wouldn't miss it for the world. He would be seething that his son was not asked to make this speech and he would be hoping that I fall flat on my face and tarnish my surname. That I am confident of regardless of any monetary arrangement between our two families. Julie attempts to usher Kevin and Austin to vacant seats after spotting me standing against the wall however Kevin catches my eye, smiles and then begins to walk towards me. His family follows. Whilst I wait for them to no doubt offer me some words of wisdom, I shake hands with former students that I spoke with earlier this week. I have shared words with so many faces they have all merged into one huge blur. I am horrible with names and faces anyway unless they are hot like certain band members that I am obsessed with. I do remember one guy previously saying that he had flown in from Hong Kong for this. The pressure builds and as the McGuire's, sans Chloe walk closer, I can feel the perspiration accumulate in my armpits. I knew I should have shaved them so that the chemicals would be more effective. "Hi Kevin, Julie. It is good to see you." I extend my arm and shake Kevin's hand. He slaps me on the back a few times and gives me a hug. I give Julie an air-kiss on each of her cheeks before giving Austin a hug. "Chezdon, Hello." Kevin finally says as I break my embrace with Austin. He smells like lavender. "I would say congratulations, but I don't think under the circumstances, it is the best word to use. It is better I just say that I know you will be great. Just believe in yourself. Talk like you are having a friendly word with say, Austin. It will make this easier." Kevin looks around. Who is here with you? Not your father I hope." "My father is in Macau, on business." Austin and I exchange a deadpan look. Kevin and Julie both scoff simultaneously knowing that I am embellishing the facts, but who cares really. "Mel is in court." I put my hand in my pocket and pull out a plastic security guard with `GUEST' emblazoned on it. "Is Chloe here?" "Yes, she is outside, waiting for her mother." Of course, Kevin would send his wife outside to sit in the sun and watch this with his only daughter on the large television. Julie looks at her watch and then around the chapel, trying to spot anyone considered A-list. I am confident of that. "Here." I hand my spare security card to Kevin. "Use it to get Chloe in here. There is no point Chloe sitting out there if Julie has a pass to be in here." Kevin snatches the card from my hand. "That is very kind of you Chezdon. Thank you. Would you like to come to our house when this concludes? I am sure that my only son would like that." I know that his only son has a mouth and I refrain from telling him so. More importantly I give some respect to this holy place and do not articulate how in fact Austin has used his mouth in the past. "We will see. I need to survive this. Can we touch base later?" Kevin nods. "Austin, here." I hand my phone to Austin. "Can you hold on to this? The last thing I need is it vibrating when I am up there." "You could just turn it off, you know." Julie offers. "It isn't that hard." Kevin gyrates his head around quickly and glares at Julie. "Shut your mouth woman!" I ignore Kevin and look at Austin. "I will get it from you later. Okay? I would prefer not to have a bulge in my pocket." Austin takes my phone and places it face-down against his and slides both devices into the pocket of his suit jacket. Austin hugs me again. "Good luck. You will do fine." He pats my back and pushes himself away from me. "What happened to your piercing?" "Headmistress took it. We made a deal." I smile. "The bitch." Austin smiles. "Oh, Jesus Christ." "Austin!" Julie squeals and slaps him on his shoulder. "Where are you?" "Sorry." We both stare at the floor and chuckle. I needed a laugh to cut the tension that was building up in the air around us. "Cya Chez." Austin takes a few steps before turning around and walking away. His parents follow him back outside, no doubt desperately searching for Chloe. Time passes. I am lost in my own little world but I continue to shake hands with familiar faces that I met throughout the week and share solumn words. I am offered encouragement and platitudes from strangers. I respond with sombre appreciation, expressing my sadness and articulating my regret that we have had to come together today in this place, but we will persevere and be stronger for it I profess when I can. Eventually, we are asked to take our seats by a priest, which causes everyone that was outside to quickly scurry to the entrance of the chapel and navigate the security screening process in earnest. Eventually when the church is filled to capacity and when everyone is seated, the priest says a few words before introducing the Archdiocese of Melbourne. He begins to officiate the service and reads scripture from the Book of Common Prayer which leads into a long-winded sermon. I start counting in my head, second by second, knowing that at some point that I will be asked to go up and stand before everyone here and be judged. All eyes will be on me. I can't make jokes about the Collingwood Magpies and use humour to defuse any awkwardness or discomfort. This is far too important and I am far outside my comfort zone. My father would be the first one to encourage me if he was here. He would insist that you need to operate outside of your natural comfort zone to evolve. To move forward. Once the twenty-minute sermon finishes I am nearly in the land of nod. The first of three eulogies honouring the deceased begins. There are tears, sniffling around me and then silence as the second person walks to the lectern to begin eulogising the guest of honour. I can't do this. I can barely breathe. I won't even be able to say his name. I am going to be on television for Christ's sake. All my friends are outside watching. Australia is watching on Sky News. Faking a heart attack would be bad form right about now and when I am eventually introduced to give the final eulogy, I quickly stand up clutching two pieces of paper in my hand and begin to slowly walk to the alter. I am careful to measure my steps and nearly laugh as I imagine tripping and falling on live television in front of the people assembled here and everyone else that is watching. I lick the inside of my lip, wishing part of my piercing was there and then pick up my pace as I take the final steps to the lectern. I look up at the bright stained glass windows again briefly before looking directly at one of the television cameras. I gaze out towards the hundreds of people both seated and standing in the chapel but it is hard to see with the fake and natural light shining on my face. I remember to breath and then begin speaking. "I am honoured to have been asked by Tony McVey's family to speak in this place today. I am humbled to be in the presence of all of you and especially his family, his friends and the broader community. He was so proud of Melbourne Grammar School and it is easy to see why today as I look out and see so many students from the past, present and even future ones. Tony was taken from this life, his family and loved ones at the tender age of just fifty-five. He left a mark on not only on our school but also the greater society that needs no embellishment. I look out and see a former Prime Minister of Australia in attendance here who was a student of this place. I also see academics, historians, scientists, politicians, barristers, soldiers and professional athletes just to name a few. I don't know about you, but I keep looking for Mr McVey as I look out over this communion and only hope that these words will not only make him, but you proud as we celebrate his life through words. I know it's weird, but throughout the week I have expected to get an e-mail from him or to see his face when I turn a corner rushing to get to my next class. Is this what we call a life-force? Maybe it is his energy that I feel. If so, then his energy is still with me and I hope it never leaves. I think it is here with all of us right now. I walked to the quadrangle just outside this place yesterday. I would often see Tony reading at lunch. I took off my shoes and felt the stone beneath my feet which is where students that he taught treaded so many times. We have all walked in his path but have never stopped to consider it. He and I and so many of his friends here today have built relationships through this school and through this community. We have taken chances and lived dreams that were the foundations of ideas that we devised through his love of words and literature. Over the past few days I have had the pleasure of talking with many of you. Many have been former students, and you have explained to me of the impact Tony has had on each one of you. Your words were poignant, much like the ones that we as students who when take the time to understand them in the books; literature that Tony shared with us, makes for a preface for our lives. I am living through those words now. Later, I walked to the place where Tony tragically fell. It is currently cordoned off and being rebuilt. But it is not forever, the place that he fell and left us. I stood there, kneeled and touched the concrete and smiled. I could swear that Tony was there with me, helping me get to my feet to make sure that I am fine, like he will be remembered for doing for others at that place. For the lives that he saved, including my best mate. Tony was whispering in my ear yesterday. He was telling me off for being petulant and for testing his patience. He then reminded me to hurry to class. He told me off for challenging the rules all the while encouraging me to do better and to push myself harder so that one day that I will help write the rules with all of those that have come before me in this place. Sometimes after class we would speak about literature or even movies. Sometimes he would even tell me a useless fact about the life of a sloth. I would admire the paintings that he hung around his classroom as I cursed the assignments for wedging me somewhere between heaven and hell. I know that Tony loved his job. Even challenging students like me could not faze him. There are so many former students here today, all who would happily trade me for Tony and his booming voice up here right now. He dedicated his heart and life to teaching. He lived to educate precocious boys in this wonderful place that we call our school. All the people here and perhaps even spirits and other energy that we can't understand know that Tony had a heart who lived his life for this school and teaching us. Although I think as teenagers we never truly appreciate our education until we leave it far behind, this man's soul enriched not just us in this place but an unenumerable amount of souls that could not be here with us today. Just as every other educator that has come before Tony and the ones that come after him will in different ways. Even now I can see Tony swaggering into this place, ready to correct my sentence structure and offer advice. My words now will never be able to describe my appreciation, or even the heart of a man who lived his life for us. Whose soul enriched not just us, but this school and our lives. Indigenous Australians believe that a person's spirit is connected to the land. When I walked this campus barefoot, I know they are right. Tony's spirit touched me on campus, at the place where he fell and it will forever be with me. He is here now whispering in my ear telling me when to pause and take a breath and is giving me grief for my run-on sentences. This will forever be a sacred ground for me as I can see how he has touched so many people who have travelled to be here from around the world. The tributes from former students to Tony kept me going this week. The photos shared on social media even got a hashtag trending on Twitter. He would be so proud that so few words shared by so many people could have such an impact but would shutter at the mention of Twitter." The audience laughs. I take a breath and find my second wind. I raise my voice a few decibels as my confidence grows. "The photos shared, the words and even the prayers have shown me that his spirit is out there. The sense of loss from the people who have not only come here today, to this place, but those who reached out on social media have not only sustained me but overwhelmed me equally. There were times this week I was scared that I would not do Tony justice speaking here and knowing that I was put up here before his work was complete saddens me. When I insisted that there are much more eloquent people out in the world and including everyone in this place today, Tony's spirit encouraged me and held me upright when I thought I could not proceed with this. He is holding me upright now as I can feel him as I say each and every word now. Tony's love of words has brought all of us closer together. He always wanted to bring people together and he always wanted to celebrate his love of knowledge and share with us the people that inspired him. From the little boy that was holding a candle tribute last night at the place where he fell, to the former federal and state leaders of this great country who are with us here now. Tony's spirit brings us together. His words, the knowledge that he imparted on us, are the ties that bind all of us and I will cherish this moment forever." I stop speaking, grab on to the side of the lectern and will myself not to lose control of my emotions. I take a deep breath and look up. With the lights shining directly into my moist eyes, I can't identify a single face but I manage to focus and pretend that I do. Despite a long few seconds of hearing people sniff and sob, I manage to compose myself and I continue after folding the pieces of paper that I brought with me in half and turning them upside down. "The bonds that lead not only boys but adults from around the world coming here have Tony in common. I have talked to people that didn't even know Tony and have watched them lay flowers at the memorial site on St Kilda Road. These gestures have brought Melbourne to a stand-still today as we make our own heart-felt tributes. The bonds that saw his family and friends, both old and new gather at this place today to say their prayers and farewells. This is what proves that teaching is the greatest profession in the world. It is the tie that binds us together. Education. Tony's spirit, which is now part of all of us forever, will be with us whenever we read. Whenever we write. We must listen to it, we must cherish it, we must learn from it. So, rest in peace, Tony. I'll see you around campus." Before I can step out of the blinding light and get some sense of validation, onlookers seated in the chapel begin to clap. As I walk from the light, the guests seated in the front row begin to stand and everyone seated in this place follows suit. Walking from the lectern and away from the alter, I am in shock as former Prime Minister Fraser steps towards me and shakes my hand. The headmistress then meets me, puts her arm around me and escorts me back to my seat, past where Tony McVey's immediate family and are standing. One by one, I shake their hands and begin to share my tears with them as I thank them for their kind words. When I am close to my seat, the headmistress speaks into my ear. The applause nearly drowns her words out. "That was unbelievable, Chezdon. You made him proud. I never expected that." I quickly wipe at the tears running down my face with the back of my hand. She grabs my wrist and puts my lip ring into the palm of my hand and I quickly take my seat. The applause continues until the Archdiocese of Melbourne begins to walk to the lectern. It is only then people begin to sit once again and the noise stops. ~ The interment of Tony's ashes has been arranged as a private family affair so all invited guests and members of the public viewing area converge together to attend a post-funeral reception in the quadrangle. My speech affords me the opportunity to take part in sombre conversation with what seems to be a constant stream of people who I shake hands with, hug or both. I talk about Kafka, William Blake, Charles Dickens and provide anecdotes proving that Tony had the patience of a Saint for having to endure a student like me. Whilst speaking to Barry Humphries about his alter egos `Dame Edna Everage' and `Sir Les Patterson' the headmistress once again approaches me with her minions. She introduces herself to Barry and they been a nostalgic conversation about the school in its heyday. Despite fatigue setting in and having a very dry mouth as I am forced to watch adults drink from goblets filled with wine, I listen patiently, nod and smile. I observe and evaluate. Jayden walks up and casually taps the side of my head with his cast. "Hey. Good speech mate. You had me hooked when you said spirit." I chuckle. Barry excuses himself and I am once again left with the headmistress with Jayden at my side. "Chezdon, I had planned to have your speech framed and hung at the Tony McVey memorial. You can only imagine how shocked I was when I saw it." She holds the two folded pieces of paper out in front of her. I assume these pieces of paper to be the notes that I referenced when giving my speech. My heart skips a beat when I remember that I abandoned them on the lectern. "Where is your speech and what the hell are these? I was mortified when the Archdiocese handed these papers to me." I rub my eyes. "That is my speech miss." I feel like grabbing the glass of white wine that she is holding and drinking it. I am so thirsty. "Those are my notes actually." She unfolds the two pieces of paper. She shows me the one blank page and hands it to me. She then reads what I wrote on the other piece of paper. "Jesus Fuck! Jayden has been hit by a car." She looks up and hands me the other piece of paper. "Care to explain this?" "Those are the nine words that Malcolm said to me when he rang me from the accident scene last Friday. They will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life I reckon. Since Jayden is fine, I replaced Mr McVey for Jayden and just talked winged it. Some canned speech wasn't appropriate considering the circumstances. I would have done the same if I was giving a eulogy for Jayden or even say someone else that is close to me." I put my arm around Jayden and he takes a sudden interest in looking at his shoes. The headmistress doesn't speak, but just nods repeatedly. "Just try to avoid the Archdiocese. I believe he wants to have word with you about how you choose your words." She gives the faintest of smiles and quickly turns and walks past her minions who quickly follow her. "You made that up as you went? Jesus." Jayden asks. "Holy shit." "Be careful mate or else the Archdiocese will be having a word with you too." We giggle and look around. "You need to say g'day to Barry. He is a top bloke." Jayden digs in his pocket and pulls out a black sharpie. "You never signed my cast arsehole. I made sure the prime real estate stayed blank just for you. Give me your autograph cunt before you are whisked away." I grab the sharpie from Jayden and pull off the cap. I pause and consider what to write on his cast. "What is taking you so long fool? You can make up speeches on demand but can't write a few words without thinking about it? What is wrong with you?" Jayden lightly taps me on the head with the cast again. "Give it to me!" I demand with authority. Jayden holds out his arm. I begin to write, taking care to make my chicken scratch somewhat legible. April is the cruellest month... Even moderation is needed in moderation. Xx Chez. I then draw a picture of a circumcised penis next to my words. "Show this to the Archdiocese mate when he has a word with you. Let me know how that goes." I smile and punch Jayden lightly on the shoulder and hand the sharpie back to him. "I love it! I knew you could come up with something if given say two seconds. You are clever dick!" Smartly dressed gentlemen hover around, one looks at me keen to have a chat. "Jayden." I nudge him. "Let's catch up later mate. I think I need to circulate." "Yeah cool, I will message you later." Jayden taps me with his cast once again. "Love it mate. Love you man." I slowly retreat from Jayden and circulate slowly amongst the crowd. Finally, I apologise repeatedly that I must retire to use the bathroom and walk away from the gaggle. Once out of sight, I flee through one of the open gates and jump in a cab that is waiting with its yellow roof light active. I request that the driver take me to Eureka tower and then sit in silence re-reading my limited notes. What would I have said if it was Jayden that I was giving a eulogy for I wonder. What would I say about my father or even my mother? I can fire off a poignant speech about a teacher who I did not know intimately but those that I do and who are close to me in so many contrasting ways, I lament that I would struggle to say anything meaningful on-demand. Just guttural noise would be shared. Before fleeing the cab, I remember that I asked Austin to hold on to my phone. I curse loudly drawing the ire of the cab driver before apologising and wishing him a great day after paying the fare. Having lived on adrenaline for the last few hours and no coffee has made me forget about my phone and the fact that I didn't make time to say anything to Austin before suddenly leaving the reception. My apartment is quiet and thankfully cold when I walk in. I slowly close the door behind me and listen to the latch click. Whilst walking to my room, I begin to undo the complicated knot that Mel turned my tie into and finally toss the silk onto my cluttered desk along with my speech. I strip naked all the while appreciating the silence and the cold air blowing on my body from the vent above. I fall backwards on my bed, feeling the cold exterior of the duvet cushion my back. I am so comfortable. If I close my eyes, I know that I will sleep. I convince myself that if I go for a run my endorphins will start rushing. What I need is a natural high. The last time I went for a jog, I ended up getting drunk, high, and suckling Jayden's penis. With date-night officially approaching, I vow to go about things differently this time around and use natural endorphins to my advantage. Before I succumb to laziness, I dress myself in comfortable black running shorts and a white singlet. I am literally running out of the apartment before I know it. I find myself quickly settling in to a fast pace jogging down Southbank Promenade and without music blaring in my ears for a change, I find myself paying attention to the sounds of the city. An ambulance siren, the sound of the exhaust of a Harley Davidson accelerating and a helicopter taking off from the Spring Street helipad, bound for the airport. Sounds that I normally drown out with music. I run to Beacon Cove and increase my pace as I turn left instead of right. Instead of heading towards Sandridge Beach and Westgate Park, I run the opposite direction and dash toward St Kilda Pier, a mere five kilometres away. I sprint along the edge of the bay with the cool wind blowing through my hair and against my body. The breeze makes the sweat that is beginning to saturate my shirt exceptionally cold. When I eventually get to the pier and turn around, the wind blows against my back, encouraging me along and I am grateful for nature's favour. My white singlet becomes more saturated with sweat as I maintain what should be the fastest and longest pace that I have ever run. Devising my own renditions of popular songs keeps my mind active and me amused as I continue to push my body. The anticipation for the date I have planned for tonight builds as I consider the framework for it and what may eventually evolve later in the evening. I must stop running to place my foot on a bench and tie my shoe. A group of teenage boys that are jogging on the path, no doubt being forced to because of the training mandated by their own school begin to jog past me. I am given the chance to check out the boys running past and most of them are not wearing shirts, which gives me the opportunity to perve. Some boys are tanned and others are pale. Some have large muscular chests and others are thin and weedy. Some are taller than me, others are shorter. I watch them continue to jog past as I take a seat on the bench and watch. I could run for my school but I reckon the concept of it being fun would fade quickly. This is my time. It is my thing. I run for myself, and it is especially true if a cop is chasing me. My silent dry humour makes me laugh out loud as I catch the eye of the last teenager running at the back of the pack jog past me. I stand up and pull my sweaty singlet over my head, wadding it up and wrap it around my hand as I begin to jog and pick up my pace again. Sweat begins to flow from my pores which would make me appear incandescent as the late afternoon sun shines on my sweaty skin. Natural endorphins begin to make my mind perform like the engine of a Porsche Cayenne as I overtake dawdlers and even other runners on the footpath. The stitch developing in my side is telling me that I am pushing my body to the limit as I turn right onto the footpath that follows the tram tracks at Beacon Cove. The residential towers of Southbank and Eureka beckon me in the distance. I will myself to push on and endure the agonising pain that is increasing in my right side. I know that I can endure this pain as I have endured every other psychological and physical pain in my young life. I continue to push harder and try to run faster. I tell myself that I am a leader. I am not a quitter and I am goddamned Chezdon Morrison. I am greeted by one of the two traffic lights on the journey near the convention centre which forces me to stop. I prop myself up against a pole and watch a tram glide past. Commuters leer at me from the window shocked like they have never seen a sweaty shirtless teenager before. They probably think I am indeed running from the police. Screw them! With the stitch in my side making me believe that is what it would feel to have a knife inserted into my kidney and be twisted, I walk the rest of the way home and pull my wrinkled and wet singlet back over my head, which covers my damp body as I approach Eureka Tower. I share the elevator with a family who are returning home with groceries. I am confident that my body odour will make them rethink their dinner choice tonight. I indulge in my bad habit of searching for my phone when I return to my room and remind myself that Austin still has it. It is a form of forced digital detoxification and it is something that I do not mind for a change. Noticing the time, I strip naked again, enjoy a cold shower and primp and preen myself following my usual routine. I take extra care with my hair again since it is getting longer and I apply even more hairspray to it than I used this morning. I must actively avoid the open flames that explode from the chimneys that border the perimeter of the Crown Casino every hour on the hour I fear out of fear of self-immolation. After dressing and fulfilling my role as a trendy representation of trashy teenage youthfulness, I begin to rummage through my own bedside table. I pull out two wrapped condoms from the box that I bought the other day when I was at 7-11 and push them into my pocket. I will never be unprepared again. I also locate the wad of cash that I removed from my father's bedside table last week. I am looking forward to spending it tonight. I frown when I notice that Mel still hasn't arrived home as I walk into the kitchen, but when I notice that in five minutes the clock will strike 6:00 PM, I begin to hurry. Fortunately, the reservation that I made for 6:00 PM at Nobu Restaurant is just down the Promenade and I will only be a few minutes late. I detest being late for anything. I walk quickly along the promenade curiously watching the professionals drinking at the various bars and restaurants, celebrating the end of yet another work week. One bloke goes out of his way to point at me and taps his lady friend on her tit to get her attention. He must have seen me on Sky News. Mel would have recorded the broadcast so I can bask in my cringe-worthiness watching it later unless a clip courtesy of YouTube is thrust in my face in a few minutes. After walking into Crown Casino, I strut past the fountain that is spitting water high up into the air which is considered a tourist attraction for some reason. Only seconds later I stride into Nobu, apologise for being a few minutes late and then notice that Petra is behind the lectern who offers me a warm welcome. "Hi Petra, I have a booking for Morrison at 6:00 PM." I first pull down on my shirt and then look at my wrist, regretting that I did not wear a watch. Petra intently examines a piece of paper. "Mr Morrison, welcome! Please follow me." I follow Petra. "Apologies for the confusion last week. Apologises for missing my booking." She turns her head and stares at me whilst she walks down the staircase like a model would. "It is no problem, Mr Morrison. Sometimes life gets in the way of plans." She smiles at me, and I grin. "Your guest has already arrived." Six chefs behind the sushi bar shout in unison, "irasshaimase" which is then repeated by the floor staff. It is the customary welcome that everyone is offered as you enter the depths of this Japanese restaurant. I wave to the familiar faces behind the sushi bar as I have been here countless times with my father. It is nice to be recognised for something besides being on the news today. I nod my head a few times and then turn to see James who has decided to stand. I give him a hug before we take our seats and two members of the floor staff begin to unfold the cotton serviettes that were previously carefully folded and placed on the plate in front of us. They gently place the serviettes on our laps in unison. "Would you like something to drink?" The beautiful and petite Japanese server asks with an Australian accent. "An Asahi beer please. If you have it." James looks at me after responding. "Yes sir, and for you?" I can't help but admire the server's perfect complexion and I feel a smattering of jealousy. "Sparkling water for me is fine." "Yes sir." The server walks away. "Wow, no alcohol for you tonight. I am impressed, Chez." James smiles. I roll my eyes. "I am underage remember. Besides it could be a long night." I wink. We begin to inspect the fish that is on display within the confines of the glassed sushi bar in front of us. "Like I said, it is on me tonight, mate. Did you try to message me? I don't have my phone." "Yeah, I did, but I assumed you were just busy after your performance this afternoon. You didn't strike me as the kind of guy that would be late or stand me up, so I didn't worry much about your silence." I begin to turn red after James references my speech. "I saw it. You did a great job. I didn't even know that bloke who died, but you even made me cry." I push my shoulder into James. "Shut up arsehole." The server brings our drinks and sets a glass of Asahi in front of James and a glass of sparking water in front of me and walks off with the half-filled bottles. Although we have conversed on the phone multiple times this week and of course messaged, it is good to finally have face-to-face conversation. Actual interaction was needed so I can get to know him better. When asked if we know what we want to order, I suddenly become enthusiastic, take the menu from his hand and offer it and mine to the server. "I am not one for reading words. Omakase!" "Oh, Omakase." The server shouts at the chefs. "Omakase!" "What is that?" James drinks from his glass of beer. "The chef's choice. It will make things easy. After this week, I welcome things being easy." I laugh which makes James laugh. We talk about politics, religion, goals, aspirations, ambition and even tell stories about sexual experiences that have gone awry. Only being able to share how when I lost my virginity that I cut my foot entertains him. He admits that one of the more awkward sexual experiences that he has had is when I saw the lips of his anus kissing the two-litre bottle of Pepsi earlier in the week. Laughter ensues and our conversation flows naturally whilst the chef reaches over the counter, delicately setting small plates of raw fish in front of us as the hours pass. James continues to drink beer and I enjoy sparking water. After the long run to St Kilda and back, I am extremely thirsty and fatigue begins to set in again about the time we are offered dessert. "No dessert for me, conversation will be my dessert." I proclaim and then chuckle. "Nothing for me, I am fine. That was awesome" James smiles at the server who then offers James the bill which I grab out of his hand. "Hey!" James raises his voice. "I am the one that works, this would be a couple hundred of dollars at least." "I said don't worry about it." I reach into my pocket and pull out the wad of cash that he would have seen earlier in the week. "It is on me. Thank you for looking after me before. It is the least that I can do." "No worries Chez. Thank you." James flashes me a smile as I count out fifty dollar notes and round up the total, leaving a twenty percent tip. I stand up and James follows my lead. The server quickly walks over and takes the money that I left on the counter in front of us. "Arigatogozaimashita," I say to her. "Arigato Mister Chezdon. Sayonara." I shake the servers hand and bow slightly, never knowing exactly what is really appropriate or expected. I wave at the chefs behind the sushi bar, and thank them again for offering us such beautiful fish. "See you soon." This time I follow James up the steps, pass the spitting fountain in the grand entranceway to Crown Casino and then outside into the brisk cold night air, where I can see Eureka Tower in the background looming over all the other residential towers. "OK, I am going to get a cab. It was good to seeing you Chezdon and thank you for dinner mate. It was fun. I hope we can do it again soon, but next time it is my shout!" "Deal." I exclaim and then briefly shake his hand before giving him a hug. "Enjoy your night. Who knows, I might stop by and see you tomorrow at work." "Oh yeah." James pulls away but keeps his hands on my shoulders. "Your infamous weekly lunch with Bryce. How could I forget. Well, enjoy." "Don't worry, I won't turn up drunk. I gave up drinking at breakfast. You should be safe." I offer James a wide cheeky smile and he punches me on the shoulder. "Arsehole." James squeals before snickering. "Okay then, I am off. Maybe I will see you tomorrow." He walks off and I watch him get into a cab. Before it drives off, it pulls up next to me and the rear window is lowered. "Hey. I had a thought. I have a great business idea for you." Looking no doubt confused but intrigued, I grasp my arms with both of my hands and cock my head to the right. "Oh?" "You could start a noodle delivery business." James chuckles. "You could call it `Send Nudes' but spell nudes as N-O-O-D-S." James laughs. "Arsehole!" I shout and giggle. "See ya!" I raise my middle finger and James waves out the window as the cab turns onto Queensbridge Street and drives off toward the centre of Melbourne. I take a deep breath, caressing my arse through my back pocket thinking that my phone should be resting there. I remember that I don't have it and I ponder how I managed to spend two hours with James and not once think about my phone or what was happening in the world outside of Nobu. I remind myself that I spent another two hours running and even hung out by myself without being tethered to the device that would probably be overloaded by messages and have run out of power. The digital detoxification has done me good and I vow to do it once a week. Feeling refreshed, I stroll across the busy street and throw the door of the TGI Friday's restaurant open. This is yet another venue that not only my dysfunctional family often visits. My friends and I also hang out here and frequently study here and take advantage of the offer of unlimited soda refills. I leap onto an empty seat in the bar area at a high table and turn my attention to the AFL coverage on one many television screens. My Collingwood Magpies are doing well, but it is only the start of the game. I remain hopeful for a positive result. One of the staff members that I know by name walks over to greet me. I ask for a sparkling water, heeding the advice of the tooth fairy. I crave sugar, but I know I must give up the Coke and sadly Cherry Dr Pepper. I am confident that I can live life without the tasty sugary carbonated syrup. The server promptly brings me a bottle of San Pellegrino sparking water and sets it and a glass in front of me as I watch Travis Cloke boot a goal on the television. I express my jubilation verbally and with a pump of my fist. The server and I begin to talk about the footy and my thoughts on the AFL season so far. I am startled when two hands slap my back. It scares the shit out of me and I scream, which I am known for doing because I am so highly strung. "Jesus Christ!" I shout. The server bends down holding his stomach laughing hysterically and I quickly turn my body around to see Austin dropping a black duffle bag on the floor next to his feet. It is the same one that he had with him when he planned to stay over just one week ago, today. Austin laughs like a madman and forces out his words. "You really need to relax mate. You are too wound up." He hops onto a chair next to me chortling. He glances at the television and then hands me my phone whilst he continues to giggle. I quickly turn the phone off and gently set it on the table. "Happy date night!" I slide my glass of sparking water and the bottle of San Pellegrino toward Austin." I look at the server, which distracts him from the footy coverage. "Mate, do you think I can order an orange juice please?" I think back to the sage words that James offered earlier in the week which was a light bulb moment. The only time I have had sex when I haven't been drunk or high has been with Austin. I know he is the one for me now that the Gordian knot has been untied. "Sure." The server walks away. My eyes meet Austin's as he places his hand on my knee under the table. "I just hope the juice is worth the squeeze." Nine more words that I will never forget. "I know I am." ******************************************************** A/N - Well, this is it. The end of a two year journey with Innocence Waning. I hope you liked this! As always, I am keen to hear from you with comments, abuse, feedback and thoughts. I am going to start writing another book called Innocence Waxing where Jayden will be the main character this time. I am really looking forward to getting into that. You can follow my writing develops on my blog/site and of course I will publish the new content here. If you feel like parting with 5 quid for the digital download of Innocence Waning, you can buy it on my site and support my writing! Surely 210k words is worth 5 quid? Mindless self-promotion is good, but I need to pay for more wine as I certainly drank a heap of it when I was writing this. So keep in touch, and the usual info is below. https://innocence-waning.blogspot.com chezdon1997@gmail.com