Tell Me It's Real(89)

And, of course, right then was the moment Vince obviously chose to say something about me, because he pointed up toward the balcony and they both glanced my way. I’m pretty sure they saw me with my crazy “I want to murder you because I’m weirdly jealous” face going on. I attempted to school it quickly and looked away, but not before I saw the flicker of confusion go across Vince’s face and the amused little smile on Darren’s. The fucker.

Ever-watching, Charlie hadn’t missed this exchange at all. “Give him a little credit,” he chided me. “I’m pretty sure he’s not bored with you yet.”

“Or maybe I’m the other woman,” I said forlornly. “Or maybe he and Darren have been together for twelve years and I was meant to be a present for Darren’s birthday and we’re going to have a threesome and then they’ll throw me to the curb like a box of unwanted newborn kittens before they go back to their lives, where they’re planning on adopting a Croatian baby named Braslav.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you should be on medication,” Charlie said. “It can’t be healthy to have you thinking all by yourself without some kind of pharmaceutical intervention.”

The DJ proceeded to announce Helena, and Charlie trained the spotlight on the curtains while flicking on the video camera. Before she started, he leaned over to me and said, “You’re being summoned.”

I looked down and saw Vince crooking a finger at me. I thought about shaking my head, but Charlie must have known that I was acting a bit stupid because he kicked my stool and knocked me over. I almost fell to the floor, but instead gracefully stumbled, making it sound like an obese herd of elephants had just been spooked by lions and was trampling up on the balcony to get away. People below looked up as if they expected the roof to come caving down on them, which, to be fair, it probably almost did. Charlie didn’t even have the common decency to look slightly repentant, instead just smirking and waving me away.

So I started toward the Stairs Of Doom which would lead me to one of the most horrifying experiences of any young gay man’s life: meeting the friends of the new boyfriend. By the time I had reached the halfway point, I’d convinced myself that not only were Darren and Vince butt buddies, but that they had orgies all the time with all the jocky pretending-to-be-straight-to-be-slightly-more-appealing boys and I really was getting Freddie Prinze Juniored and this was going to be the moment that I would stand in the middle of the dance floor, the period ghost up on the balcony, and blood would rain down on top of me like I was Carrie at the prom. Then they would all point and laugh at me, and Vince would be at the front, getting handed money by Darren because he won their bet and then they would start blowing each other and Darren would have the world’s biggest cock and I would sit there and watch, having been menstruated on all over my head.

Pretty much convinced meeting new people was the worst idea ever in my current state, I decided to make a run for the exit as soon as I passed through the door. I would tell Vince later that I saw a robbery in progress and attempted to thwart it, only to end up being kidnapped and held against my will in an Islamic prison, which would be the reason he wouldn’t hear from me for a few days. Plan set, I opened the door.

Vince stood on the other side.

“Oh sweat balls,” I muttered, looking longingly at the front of the bar.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, slightly amused.

“No, dear,” I said. “Just coming down to see you like I promised. I’m super excited about meeting Darren.”

“Good,” he said cheerfully, grabbing my arm. “Glad to hear you are so ready for this.”

“I was being sarcastic,” I snapped at him, trying to pull from his grasp as he weaved his way through the crowd. Helena did her patented backward cartwheel look-how-special-I-am move, and the crowd roared around me. Please. If only they knew how long it took her to perfect that and how much I had to help and how much of her sweat I got on me, they wouldn’t be cheering. They would be fleeing in terror.

I tried to relay to the people we were passing that I was being forced somewhere against my will in hopes that one would step in and save me. However, apparently Good Samaritan laws do not apply in gay clubs as no one stepped forward to risk their life for me.

I smashed into the back of Vince when he came to a sudden stop in front of me. I thought about burying my face in his back and hiding behind him but figured he didn’t want his friends to know he was dating the world’s most gaping vagina, so I steeled my balls a bit and looked up at him when he brought me to his side, dropping his arm on my shoulder. He leaned over and nuzzled my neck. “It’ll be fine,” he said for only me to hear. “You’ll see.”