Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2006 22:58:22 +0900
From: Jae Bang <mr.delphiki@gmail.com>
Subject: So the story goes_01

I could be repetitive and tell you all the legal disclaimers. But I think
as a citizen of humanity, I can neither force you to read a story nor force
you to stop reading a story. My responsibility, however, ends here, with an
implied US legal disclaimer. Don't quote me on anything and don't blame me
for anything. Shoot me a nice email at mr.delphiki@gmail.com! Bon voyage.

So the story goes...

One thing I learned from years of education is that stereotypes are not bad
at all. I actually like labels. It makes it easier for me to identify
someone, but more importantly, it makes it easier for me to identify
myself. If I could choose, I would want to be a gorgeous white gay male
with large and supportive family. I am none of that. So for now, I have
settled with a title gay leaning bisexual who is set on marrying a Korean
woman. I really think meeting the fated other half is overrated. There are
more important things in the world than finding love. I always hated being
same anyway.

When I used to be completely gay, which is until about all of three days
ago, I harbored one of the most intense crush for a straight guy. Despite
the fact that he was completely out of my territory, he was the only crush
that I could proudly admit to anyone. He was not physically attractive, he
didn't have the face that made one subconsciously wet his/her lips, and
most he wasn't rich. My immense desire for him was the ultimate proof of my
so-said conviction. I have always told people that the first thing I look
at a man, I look at his eyes, and I fall for guys with personality, not the
looks. He was the ultimate proof. It is incredibly importantly for me to be
right.

Even as a bisexual man, I cannot for long deny the package that Marc was
and is.
	"Bebe! It's Marc with a C, like French."
	"RRRRight?!" I am actually pretty damn sure that this is not the
first conversation that Marc and I shared, but it is perhaps one of the
most representative one of his personality. He is humble yet confident,
overbearingly charming, extremely well-liked by all, passionate,
extracurricular involved, and simply perfect. And those eyes; it is not
often that I come across truly beautiful eyes, but he had it, hiding behind
that comical facade.

I only got to steal a few kisses at his cheeks in my drunkard state. But I
decided that he probably is the "one" in a male form, and his
unavailability is the divine sign that I should seek answer among the other
half of human population.

	"JJ!!!" Chloe was screaming across the campus. I swear everyone
could hear her. I temporarily away-messaged a chat with myself, and
mustered up as much enthusiasm as Chloe deserved after all summer's time of
not seeing her.
	"LOE!!! How's theee?" Perhaps not nearly as loudly, but she knew it
was going to be the best she will ever get out of me.
	"Still mis-speaking the good ole' Old English I see. Shakespeare
should be so proud."
	"I know right. I could be his gay lover, don't you think. We would
be so hot together, methinks."
	We heard some chuckles from freshman girls passing by, each with
ample dorm supplies careless held in the bookstore bag. Those evil people
trying to get every penny scraped out of already overcharged college
students.
	"I know I hate them too. I can't believe they are the new best
class to set their feet inside our ivory gates."

Our conversation came to an overbearingly obvious, awkward, and premature
halt as group of frat guys passed by us, in their Lacoste, Polo, and
Abercrombie wholesomeness. Such mundane appearance by the fortunate half of
our society wouldn't usually stop our vibrant and all-too entertaining
conversations (for us and eavesdroppers alike), but it was their overt
display of lust for Chloe.
	"OMG Loe, what did I tell you. I told you not to wear that top ever
again. It's that stupid shirt that essentially covers your belly button and
belly button only. It's inviting people's gaze."
	"Sorry dearest. I guess you didn't notice it before then? I thought
you were trying to turn a little straighter?"
	That got me silent. It turned out to be a rather difficult task, to
notice woman. Chloe was stunning, or so most of my straight friends told
me. With a Korean mother--God, I love her--and a Russian father, Chloe is
easily one of the most beautiful vision to be held by hormone overcharged
college men. Besides her looks, Chloe was also eloquent, funny,
kind-hearted, sympathetic, and overall perfect. Yet I was still struggling
to find Chloe attractive.
	"Sowie. I didn't...I mean...you know I think are gorgeous." She
didn't say anything. Staring at me with one of the most enticing and one of
the deepest pairs I ever saw on a human being, she kissed me. I felt the
volume, the heat, the passion, the softness, the wetness...I felt
everything that one was supposed to feel from the most perfect lips. I
recalled romantic novels and cheesy romance comedies where protagonist men
think out loud how great his fantasy women's lips actually feel like. How
unforgettable and fantastic they are. I knew all the things I was supposed
to feel. I knew them all...then why...?

BAM! Big, lung lurching slap on my back.

FUCK! I shrieked.

 	"Hey JJ"
	"WT FUCK. And what's up with that sheepish voice. It doesn't suit
you."
	He was back. Nonchant, he moved onto his yet another prey.
	"Priviet Loe."
	"You may not call me by my pet name. It's rather exclusive. And
priviet." One of the reasons I absolutely adore Chloe: she wasn't like any
other girls prancing around our campus. She had presence and demeanor
befitting her social status. She wasn't an easy prey, even for Dimitri.
	"So Dim, why are your too-good-to-be true beer buddies ogling at
this direction? Are you trying to take our lunch money?"
	"As I am their only connection to Chloe, although a far-stretched
one at that evidently, they wanted me to find out if Chloe somehow turned
you straight and that she are officially off the availability chart."
	"And I will take CHLOE CHOMSKY FOR THREE THOUSAND! I guess she's
off now..right?"
	Chloe answered me with her all-too perfect smile. I saw it though,
beyond that perfect smile, twinge of emotion hanging off of the corner of
her multi-colored eyes. I decided against probing about that for now.
	"All right. Well, I am going to tell the guys that you are as gay
as ever and that Chloe hasn't had a sex change. I will catch you tomorrow
in the class then. And Chloe, call me." He left, ever so charmingly, and
Chloe made a face that read: `I just threw up a little in my mouth.'