Date: Mon, 14 Nov 2011 10:24:27 +0000
From: Michael James <michael.james78@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: The Understudy - Chapter 1

The Understudy

Warning: The usual disclaimers apply here.  If you don't like any of the
following, leave now: gay sex, vulgar or harsh language.

This story is a work of semi-fact, however some scenarios and situations
have been adapted to make for a more interesting read.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

The lamp glew, illuminating the otherwise dark modest sized student room
with a warm amber colour. It was silent other than the sound of my slim
fingers tapping rigorously against the laptop keyboard. My eyes raced
darted along the text document, it was almost as though I was possessed;
completely immersed in the creation of this electronic text copy of my
deepest thoughts, memories and philosophies. Hi, my name is Isaac, i'm 20
years of age, a Psychology undergraduate and a gay black man!

A minority within a minority. The words gay and black man tend to conjure
up completely different connotations. On one hand the gay man,
stereotypically effeminate, a sexual predator, sinful, weak. And on the
other hand we have the black man, stereotypically strong, powerful,
masculine emotionally discrete. Marrying the two can have dire
consequences. But here I am, a gay black man. This is my life, a marriage
of the two. Certainly not a marriage of convenience; an arranged marriage
if you will, each party forced to love and live harmoniously over a
lifetime, together. But what happens when the cracks in the relationship
begin to surface and divorce is certainly not an option?

I once heard that to every human being there is the lead character and the
understudy. The lead playing to a sold out theatre, playing he's character
perfectly, it's he's job to please the crowd. Whilst the understudy
silently watches and when the spectators have left; he plays to the empty
venue quietly hoping that special someone shall notice him. Well this story
where the understudy takes centre stage, my memoir, my chronicle, my
'married couples counselling', this is my story.

I sat there lamenting...

March 2008, three years ago. It was a harsh, grey rainy day. I stepped out
onto the path; the same path which I walked for those five days a week. But
this time was different. I didn't have to be here.

The path was long and almost looked endless. There were trees either side
which ran along side the path framing the track. It usually looked
picturesque; like a beautiful landscape painting. The sun's rays usually
shimmering through the tree leaves causing them rustle and sway in the
light breeze, illuminating the road below. But today was different the cold
harsh wind roared as the relentless rain beat down on my whole body causing
me to shudder. I was absolutely soaked through. My designer suit clung
uncomfortably to my skin, restricting my movement. I loved my suit!

It was a pinstripe black two piece suit. It was the most expensive item in
my wardrobe and I had to work for months to afford it. I loved the way I
felt when I put it on and loved the attention, and looks I would receive
whilst wearing it. But now it was in tatters and I knew it would take a
couple of trips to the dry cleaners to get it back to its former glory,
something which I was not looking forward to.

Questions began to circle around my head. Why was I here? Why was I walking
this long road? I could've been on my way home in the relative comfort of
the bus. Instead I had diverted; walking a route which was in the complete
opposite direction to that of my house. The answer to these questions was
walking right beside me, he's name was Sean.

As I looked to my right I stared at him. He's short hair which was usually
a light chestnut had become a dark brown from the rain and now lay tousled
flat on his head. He's emerald eyes glistened in the rain, looking onwards
nonchalantly. A tiny smile graced he's lips. I would have given anything to
know what he was thinking at that moment.

This was the path which lead to he's house. He had asked me to walk him
home. Everyday after school I would always answer with a yes! Everyday I
would hope and pray that maybe today would be the day something happened
between us. A kiss, a hug even the slightest hint that he felt the same way
about me as I did about him. I would stubbornly hold onto this blind,
stupid hope.

As I stared at him my heart raced, butterflies filled my stomach; How could
I feel so happy and yet so sad at the same time; How could I feel so close
to someone and yet so distant. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but I was
too ashamed. It was pathetic. He's straight. I kept telling myself he
doesn't want you! But then there were times when he looked at me, and it
would feel like he saw right through me, those stunning green eyes which
burned through my soul setting my heart ablaze. Something about he's stare
would make me question how he did feel about me. It was almost as though he
was contemplating something and once again it would make me hope.

As we reached he's house it was time for us to part. This was the worst
part of the walk, the moment that my hope died. He gave me a dazzling smile
and thanked me for walking with him. I, in response faked a smile and said
my goodbye. As we walked our separate ways, it felt as though my heart was
breaking. We walking our separate physical ways was almost a metaphor for
what was occurring emotionally in my head. We were indeed walking separate
paths. As I walked away I could feel the spark of hope fading. My eyes
began to well up. It wasn't so bad I thought; at least the rain would hide
my tears. I sobbed uncontrollably, looking up at the dark, cloudy sky. It
hurt so bad. Why did I have to be this way, why me!?

From that moment on I knew; I knew that this had to stop. I needed to stop
being a fool. Why was I doing this to myself? Stop being so blind I told
myself. Accept reality.  From that moment I made a promise to never fall
again and thus opened a new chapter in my life...