Date: Sun, 27 Nov 2005 16:24:52 -0500
From: Projectile Polly <projectilepolly@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mask of Brutality- IV

Sorry for the huge delay in putting this chapter out.  I'd
say that I've been really busy with my new job and studying
for the GRE, but that's not really an excuse.  The truth is
that I'm just lazy and have no motivation to write.  There,
so sue me.

This story has homosexual themes.  If you don't like it,
don't read it.  Disclaimers are rather silly, but I'll do it
just for the hell of it.  This story is partly-fictional:
what I don't remember I make up and embellish.  I'd lie and
say I copyrighted this, but I couldn't really be bothered to
do that.  Besides, who'd plagiarize crap like this anyway?

*    *    *

I'm glad that I never get hangovers, because otherwise
waking up the next day would have been a very painful
experience.  As it turned out, aside from feeling completely
exhausted and in dire need of mouthwash, I had survived last
night's debauchery relatively unscathed.  Well, maybe my
self-esteem wasn't quite so lucky.  Being kicked out of a
bar was rather embarrassing.

Almost falling out of bed, I trudged over to the bathroom to
make myself reasonably presentable.  I stank of cigarette
smoke, and my eyes were still slightly bloodshot.


I looked at my phone.  It was an unknown number with some
unknown area code.  Seeing as how I seldom get calls- my
1,000 rollover minutes can attest to this- and I always
answer my phone, even when I know I shouldn't, I didn't
really give the caller's anonymity much notice.

"Hello?"

"Yo, bitch," said the voice on the phone.  I didn't know
whether to be surprised or amused.  How did he get my
number?  Why is he calling me?

"Hey, AJ, what's up?" I answered, trying not to sound
intrigued or overly excited.  After all, who'd want to spend
time with a total loon who gets all hyped up when people
actually call him?  Wow, I made that sound so much worse
than it actually is- I think.

"Not too much right now.  You doing anything later tonight?"

Well, I had originally planned to sit my ass on the couch
and watch Law and Order before Phoebe would get one of her
binge cravings and we'd run off to the grocery store around
11:00 to buy brownie mix.  So yeah, my night was pretty much
free.

"Not really," I answered.  "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, a couple of us are gonna be at my place if you want
to come.  Have a few beers and chill with us."

Beer and boys?  How can I resist?  I can be so silly at
times.

"Sure, I'll be over there later, k?"

"Sweet, I'm glad you're coming."

I was tempted to giggle like a little schoolgirl, but even I
would lose all self-respect for that.

*    *    *

I didn't plan on going over to AJ's until around 11, so
Mairi and I were having dinner: grilled salmon with mashed
potatoes and asparagus.  Over the summer I transformed
myself from a culinary neophyte to an exquisite chef.
Living right next to a grocery store will do that to you.
Living with a roommate who's as much of a bottomless pit of
calories as you are will just cement the deal.  I loved to
cook for people, and feeding my roommate was perfect
arrangement: I cook, she eats.  We could do no wrong.

So we were sprawled on the couch, stuffing our mouths with
food as we watched Nick and Jessica on TV make total morons
out of themselves as they went about their daily lives.
They make life look so simple, but I guess you don't need to
worry about bills and how to make a living when you're
married, rich, and famous: three things I'll never be.  Damn
them.

Sometimes watching people who seemingly have it all just
really gets me down.  After all, when all the magazines and
shows on television are fixated on gorgeous, fabulously rich
and successful celebrities, you can't help but wonder
occasionally how your future will end up.  Not glamorous,
that's for certain.  And then you hear about how these
individuals, who may be incredibly hot and wealthy but
probably aren't sharpest knife in the drawer, start doing
these that would grandmothers pinch their cheeks like
advocating trade liberalization for third world countries,
or debt relief, or one-laptop-per-child or some shit like
that.  Besides the fact that their publicist probably cooked
the gimmick up as some popularity stunt, you just can't help
but wonder if you'll ever make a difference like that.  That
sort of thinking always makes me feel worse, because I can't
even find a guy who likes me: how the hell would I be able
to make the world a better place?  A totally non-sequitur
line of reasoning, I know.

"One day, when I'm the ruler of the world," says Mairi,
still chewing, "I'm going to make sure that there's an IQ
test for people to be on TV so little kids don't adopt
morons like Jessica Simpson as their role model."  It amazes
me how Mairi can be wolfing down her meal like a dystrophic
hippo and still look cute in the process.  I guess I
shouldn't tell her those magazine stories about Jessica's
alleged 160 IQ, not that I believed them.

"And then I'll give you the UK and Ireland, so you can rule
your own little serfdom full of cute, black-haired, blue-
eyed chaps."

I think she heard me grunt in amusement, because she stopped
watching the screen and turned on me instead.

"Are you saying you're not going to help me in my plans to
take over the world?"

Well, technically I didn't say anything.  And this
conversation was rather stupid, not that any of my
conversations are much better on average.  Either I attract
stupidity in my conversations with others, or I'm just
naturally stupid.  Maybe it's both.

"I don't know, Mairi. I just feel like everything is just
pointless these days, you know?  Like everything I do just
isn't going to matter in the end." Wow, that was deep for
this relatively mindless conversation, but let's face it,
I'm not going to become some sexy supermodel who spends his
not-so-hard-earned income fighting AIDS in Africa or
adopting a cute Cambodian kiddo.  And if I can't do that,
what's the point?  After all, popular culture has taught us
that this is the sort of standard we should all aspire to.

"I mean," I continued, "I try to get myself motivated and do
stuff that's actually interesting. But I don't know; I just
don't seem to care because I don't know where this going to
lead me, you know?  Like no matter how much I work, or how
hard I try at anything, it's all meaningless because I'm
never going to amount to anything worthwhile, and I'm never
going to be happy."

She turned off the TV but didn't look at me immediately; I
guess she was letting what I said sink in.  It wasn't as if
this was coming out of the blue, however, because Mairi
would always be the one I'd turn to whenever I got into
these depressive mood swings.  They usually occurred when I
liked a guy.  Sometimes I wonder if my life would be happier
if I was just asexual.  But then again, that's not much fun
either, is it?

"Well, that's how I am too sometimes," Mairi said, turning
to face me.  Her brow was furrowed, and she looked genuinely
concerned.  She always knew that when I talked like this I
wasn't kidding.  I'm not one of those that pout and act all
exasperated, whining, "My life sucks.  I want to kill
myself."  With me, I really mean it.  I used to be seriously
suicidal, and Mairi was one of the few people to know what I
went through.  The best part of my friendship with Mairi was
that she actually understood me and she was one of the few
people I could really talk to about these things.

".but the future is always so uncertain, so who knows,
James?"

"I just do."

"But how do you know?  `I just do' isn't a good enough
answer.  No one knows what's in store for them in the
future.  And yes, there is a good chance that eternal
happiness is not around the corner.  But there is a chance
that it is too. You can't only focus on the negative.  I
mean. even if there's only a slim chance, isn't it worth
it?"

"But what if you're wrong?" I insist.  You have to
understand, there are times when I sincerely believe that
I'm meant to lonely and miserable until I'm old and
decrepit.  A rather morbid prospect, but I just had this gut
feeling that my future would end up like that.  "What if
everything really is worthless?"

"Well. then you're already prepared to be unhappy, but. if
I'm right, then you'll get a very pleasant surprise."

"What do you mean?"

"This is about AJ, isn't it?"  The look on her face told me
she already knew the answer.  I could feel a blush creeping
on my face.

"I just don't see how he could ever like me, even if he was
gay," I whispered.

"You'd be surprised, James."  Then she picked up our plates
and whisked them off to the kitchen before I could ask her
what she meant.  And from the kitchen she called out, "And
when I'm queen of the universe, you'll thank me!"

Damn it, why does everyone have to be so cryptic all the
time?


*    *    *

I arrived at AJ's place a little after ten.  Since he didn't
really say much other than tell me to get my ass over here,
I didn't know what to expect.  I was somewhat relieved to
find that there weren't too many people here: just his
roommates and a couple of their friends sitting on the couch
watching something stupid on TV.  I didn't recognize any of
them.  Super-awkward.  I made my way from the living room to
the kitchen in search of AJ.  After all, if there's only one
person I know in the whole place, I might as well find him.

AJ was on the back porch playing beer-pong with some of his
roommates.  They were all the swim team, I later found out,
and they had just returned to campus a few days ago. Summer
was almost over and classes would start next week, which was
something I was both looking forward to and dreading at the
same time.  It's nice to have all your friends back in the
neighborhood, but at the same time, learning sucks.

"Hey man," AJ said as I stepped outside onto the porch.
"Glad you can make it."

We went through introductions, but being bad with names, I
didn't remember a single one of them.  I'd say they weren't
cute anyway, but that makes me sound horribly shallow (but
it's true!).  He left the game- guess he wasn't particularly
thrilled by it- and we went back inside the house to escape
the mosquitoes and his jock buddies being all macho as they
tossed their little plastic balls into little plastic cups.
Thank goodness.

He went to the mini-fridge, fished out a beer, and tossed it
to me.  It occurred to me that my entire friendship with AJ
revolved around work and alcohol which probably was not a
good sign.  Still, it was better than nothing, I guess: I'll
take what I can get.  Besides, since my housemates didn't
drink much, I may as well find people who did.  Preferably
cute guys who'll drink with me.  Like AJ.  My logic is
infallible.

The conversation I had with Mairi earlier still bothered me,
however.  Exactly what did she mean by `you'll be
surprised'?  After all, if AJ really liked me back, he's had
plenty of chances to get into my pants already.  Maybe he's
the shy and insecure type.  I laughed at myself for that.
Somehow, AJ the confident swimming-jock didn't really seem
like the type to get tongue-tied at the sight of a little
dork like me.

Besides, if he was gay, wouldn't he have told me by now?
It's just impolite otherwise, not mentioning that you're
batting for the same team.  Barring the possibility that
he's a closet case, that's why I just assumed AJ was
straight, since he's had a lot of time to bring it up.
Oddly enough, he's never mentioned women either.  I didn't
know whether that was a conscious omission on his part, or
if he just naturally felt that discussing girls with a gay
guy wasn't the wisest decision.

Or maybe he wasn't interested in girls.  That could be an
option.

Perhaps he's just biding his time, waiting for the right
moment. to what?  Sweep me off my feet and carry me off in
the moonlight?  That's just a sentimental fantasy, and
sentimentality can be dangerous to an emotionally fragile
sod like me.  Best not to think about these things and focus
on the beer instead, I thought.

"Come on, James, stop looking so spaced out and follow me,"
said AJ.  I followed him into the living room, leaving my
concerns behind, at least for the moment.

*    *    *

It was getting pretty late and I figured that I'd better get
going since I had to wake up early the next day.  There
wasn't a lot of people left hanging around, and some of AJ's
housemates were starting to cleanup the bottles of beer left
lying around.

"I should probably get going," I said to AJ.

"You gonna be alright?" he asked.

I was still sober, thankfully, but walking back alone wasn't
exactly an appealing prospect.  There were a bunch of recent
muggings in the area, and I wasn't looking to add myself to
the list of victims.  What surprised me was how AJ actually
showed some concern over my well-being.  How touching.

"Yeah, I'll be fine.  I can take care of myself."

He snickered at that; we both knew full well that I was
capable of nothing of the sort.  That's the problem with
being skinny and having bad health problems: people think
you're so frail that you'll break at the slightest touch.
They don't give me enough credit.  Then again, not much I
can do against a guy with a gun other than scream like a
pansy and toss him my wallet, is there?

"You can crash here if you want."

I had my hand on the door knob, but when he said that, I
turned and looked at him.  He wanted me to stay over? I
raised my eyebrows at this, wondering if he was actually
genuinely concerned for me.  Or was there something else he
wanted?  Still, I was skeptical.

"Nah, it's cool, I can walk back."

"No seriously," he persisted.  "My roommate still isn't back
yet, so you can stay with me in the basement."

Now, the dirty side of my brain immediately started
conjuring vivid images of the possibilities that could
happen with me sleeping in the same room as AJ.  Some of
them were quite x-rated.  I must admit, I was sorely tempted
to just give in and jump in the sack with him.  That is, if
were sharing the same bed, but I highly doubted that.  I
could wish, though.  I could wish very hard.

Still, the more rational side of me realized just how bad an
idea this was, and that I was totally misinterpreting things
because, well, I wanted to misinterpret them.  The chances
of AJ asking me to stay over in order to jump into my pants
were pretty much nonexistent, I think.  After all, I was the
homosexual, and he was, uh, AJ.  So, rather than having a
night of heated passion, it would probably end up with me
having a miniature anxiety attack and not being able to
sleep the whole night.

And I didn't bring my toothbrush.  That's just gross.

"You sure?  My place really isn't that far away, and my
housemates will be wondering if I'm alive or not."

"Dude, I'm telling you, you should just stay here.  It'll be
just us and we can watch a movie or play video games or
something."

"Or drink more and get totally trashed?"

"Well, that's always a possibility."

I frowned and flashed him a disapproving look.  The last
thing I really wanted at the moment was to drink and lose my
better judgment.  Not that my judgment has ever been
particularly great, especially as of late.

"Come on, James.  You know you love being corrupted by me."

I swear, everything he says could be misconstrued as some
sexual innuendo and it wasn't just because my mind is always
in the gutter.  I mean, of course I'd love to be corrupted
by him, throw my chastity in the wind, and have him take me
on the futon right then and there.  But was that really
going to happen?  I honestly couldn't tell, because while
part of me was screaming to escape while I still had the
chance to save myself from embarrassment, another side of me
desperately hoped that he wanted the same thing I did.

And I think that frightened me the most.  Even if he did
like me, what the hell would I do?  Sure I'm as horny as the
next guy, and I'd like to imagine that we'd hit the hay and
do the dirty like seasoned porn stars, but I'm also a
realist.  Taking my shirt off in front of others makes me
blush and feel nervous.  Shedding my clothes like a wild
stripper about to get it on was just. not me.  If AJ
actually was interested in something sexual- with me of all
people- could I even go through with it, or would I panic,
start hyperventilating, and need to be sedated?

Standing by the door just staring at him was making me look
foolish.  I needed to get out of there; I had made my
decision.

"Sorry, I gotta go," I said, turning and stepping outside.
I closed the door behind me before he could say anything
else.

Not looking back, and not hearing the door open and someone
following me, I started walking home.  I secretly hoped that
AJ would dash out the door and engulf me in his arms, but I
have a tendency to fantasize too much.  The sound of the
deadbolt was just barely noticeable.  So much for Prince
Charming realizing what he's missing out on.  Slightly
disgruntled, I walked back to my place alone.

*    *    *

I was just about to go to bed when my phone buzzed,
announcing an incoming message.  I picked it up and looked
at the sender: AJ.  Curiosity piqued, I opened up the text
to see what he said.

`Dude, thanks for coming.  You're fun and everyone else are
just dorks.'

Wow, now if that wasn't a proclamation of his undying love
for me, I don't know what is.  Not knowing how to reply, I
just chose to leave him hanging.  I could always tell him I
was asleep.  The last thing I remember before falling asleep
was thinking about how stupid I must look with that goofy
grin on my face as I hugged my pillow tighter.

*    *    *
Kudos to everyone who's written so far (even if I'm a lazy
bastard who takes days to reply).
projectilepolly@hotmail.com