It hurt. It hurt a lot.
And I had absolutely no idea why.
All I knew was that I’d had what felt like very rough sex the night before and I was pretty sure it wasn’t consensual...
But who the hell had it been with? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t squeaky clean. I’d had one-night stands before and I’d woken up not knowing where I was but that was nothing like this. I was scared because I just couldn’t remember how the hell I’d managed to end up here in this hotel room with absolutely no recollection of how I got here.
I could remember the first part of the evening but I didn’t remember anything after the audition with the very famous and influential producer, Patrick Woods.
My blood ran cold. No. No way…
Panic flooded my mind. Could it have been Patrick? I couldn’t deny that I’d heard rumours about him – hell, someone had made a snide crack about him at the awards ceremony I’d attended with Josh, a good friend and fellow actor of mine, only a few weeks ago – but I’d dismissed it as sour grapes.
I’d always thought the casting couch was a myth… Now I wasn’t so sure. But I hadn’t been a willing participant – and I certainly hadn’t come to this hotel for anything other than a meeting...
See, I was an actor. And a reasonably good one too... My American accent was so good, hardly anyone knew I was actually from a small village in the heart of England and I got picked for roles over real Americans, which, without a doubt pissed them off but what could I do about that?
I was more than just reasonably good actually if I allowed myself a little praise every now and again – something that Patrick had never liked to indulge me in. Looking back, that might have had more to do with the fact that I had won “Best Male Actor” twice to his once... along with my “Best Newcomer” – that one really rankled him, since I’d got it when I was a fresh-faced seventeen year old and a brand new arrival from England... Oh, and let us not forget my “Best Comedy Performance” for the movie I’d done last year. He’d tried to hide it but it was obvious that he was as jealous as hell about that one.
I was very proud of my achievements, but Patrick had somehow managed to make me feel like I’d achieved pretty much nothing and that the character I played in the long running drama Honeysuckle Avenue, which had given me my big break, was total pants in comparison to his grittier, nastier character.
I felt like telling him that he was a crap actor and could only ever play himself – a total and utter bastard. Maybe I would next time I saw him...
Devon had been one in a million and I’d fallen for him pretty much the moment I’d met him. Not that I knew what my feelings for him actually meant at the time. But then, we’d met at fourteen and call me a late developer, but I’d never met anyonethat I fancied before heburst into my life in all of his Technicolor glory...
I’d got plenty of mates – Noah being one of them and Rayshe being another, both of whom were now my band mates.
None of us were really aware that we were gay back then. Rayshe definitelywasn’t out. He’d been dating a girl for almost two years on and off and no one had any clue about his true sexuality.
To be fair, everyone thought Noah was gay and he never denied it. He just never talked about it and we were forward-thinking enough as a group of mates not to make a big deal about it.
I came from a family that was very rich, very religious, terriblyhomophobic and generally, fucking horrible. My parents didn’t like Noah and often made comments about him being a poofter or a faggot or a queer and I usually just ignored them or laughed it off; never really agreeing with them but neither did I defend what they were saying either, for fear of reprisals.
The night that Devon knocked on my door, dressed up to the nines and looking absolutely fucking delicious, with his fabulous wig and his perfect makeup and his outstanding dress was one I will never forget for more than one reason. For starters, it was a revelation... It was in that shining moment that I suddenly realised that the feelings I had for him were not just those of a best friend – they were very definitely sexual and the realisation that hit me square in the face was that I really wasn’t as straight as I’d always believed myself to be. The second reason for it being utterly unforgettable was that it was the last night I ever saw him....
As I read the words to the completely enraptured class of six-year-olds I allowed my mind to wander. Where exactly in the world was Blake these days, anyway?
He’d disappeared without a trace after sixth form, taking my heart with him, whether he was aware of it or not, and leaving me an empty shell.
I sometimes wondered why my parents had named me the way they did (Fort Worth) since I felt my self-worth was pretty damned worthless.
Still, the kids seemed to love me, no matter what. My personal life might be a non-starter, but I made a difference to these kids’ lives every day and that gave me a real sense of satisfaction and damn it, self-worth…
I read on, looking up every now and again to see face after face, completely enraptured. I smiled, transported back in time to a day in the summer holidays of my sixteenth year.
Me and Blake had been completely inseparable for as long as I was able to remember. We’d pretty much grown up together. I was the youngest of the eight siblings. My five older brothers were well out of my age group, my next sibling up from me, being my brother, San Antonio, who was five years older. Blake’s sister had always been good friends with San’s twin sister, Virginia and the two of them had long since mucked in with the rest of the Fender family and enjoyed many a day messing around at the marina.
Blake had always loved stories but hated reading, so I’d spent many a summers afternoon up in my treehouse with Blake, reading my many books aloud to him. It could be fair to say that Blake and I were opposites that had somehow or other, in spite of the universe and all its scientific reasons for us not to, attracted…
Kem burst into the Marina coffee shop and looked around, a slightly wild look in his eyes. As his eyes met with mine, a huge grin broke out over his face, sending my stupid heart into overdrive before he made his way over to where I was stood behind the counter.
“Fashionably late, as usual.” I said with a smile, tapping my watch playfully while trying to calm my beating heart at the sight of him. He’d had this effect on me since I was about thirteen, when my hormones kicked in and I realised with a bit of a shock that I was in love with my best friend. Of course, he knew nothing about my wayward feelings and there was no way I could voice them. That would be mortifying – as well as asking to be kicked out of the house.
I allowed my gaze to roam over him as he discarded his jacket. It was the only chance I had before he noticed that I was ogling him. My God, he looked extraordinarily handsome today with his hair looking all sexily windswept from the rain and wind outside. It had been hot and humid all week long and finally the weather had broken, bringing refreshingly cooler air with it – but it had rained all damned day and there was thunder rumbling around all day. It made me wonder what my hair looked like. I’d been out on the boats all afternoon, giving tours to the die-hard holidaymakers who’d come on holiday and weren’t going to let a bit of rain and wind bother them, before I was hoodwinked into taking the last shift at the coffee shop by my younger brother, by only a year, Austin, who was desperate to go and see his girlfriend. Hell. I hadn’t even looked in a mirror today. I ran my hand through my hair self-consciously.
He nodded, “Yeah I know. I’m really sorry about that, Houston,” he said a little breathlessly, “I got held up unexpectedly – but you don’t look exactly ready for me, either?”
I smiled apologetically. Damn, he had noticed my hair, then… “Well, no – but you know how it is around here.” I rolled my eyes, “Austin just had to see Amy.” I shrugged, But is everything okay with you?” I asked, frowning slightly as I took in his perplexed expression.
He shook his head and then looked me in the eye, taking my breath away, as he so often did. His eyes were just unbelievable and they’d always had the same effect on me. Total mesmerisation… They were so dark brown, they often appeared to be black and they were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen in my life, with really long black eyelashes, just to make him even more adorable.
He sighed and shook his head, “Not wrong – just a little surprising. It’s Ando – my mate from uni?” I nodded. Of course, I knew who he was talking about. Ando was kind of cool even if he was a total cockslut. “He’s getting married. Can you believe that?”
I was just taking a mouthful of coffee since there was no one else in the café for those few precious moments, and I almost choked. Ando was probably the last person I would have ever expected to get married – and while he was still at uni was practically unheard of.
He’d been a bit of a man-eater when we first met him – well, it was actually Kem who met him at uni in his Physics class and started bringing him home every time he visited, making me feel slightly nervous in the process until I realised that he was actually no threat to me whatsoever and that he was actually ‘Team Houston’ when it came to looking for a prospective partner for his best friend. Swallowing as quickly as I could and burning my throat in the process, I ended up choking anyway. Kem thumped me on the back heartily. He chuckled. “Hey – are you alright? I didn’t mean to make you half-choke to death with the news!”
I smiled weakly, "Fine," I rasped.
I was going to keep a low profile but I’ve been doing that for more than half of my life.
Houston and San Antonio kept bugging me to tell my story too – to give theirs some background, I guess – and to explain a little more about why they’d made the decisions they had throughout their lives.
So, after a lot of deliberation and soul-searching, I decided to tell you my story.
I’m not sure if you’ll have more sympathy with me or with my parents but that’s too bad.
I did what I did for the reasons I had at the time.
I guess it’s up to you to decide who was right and who was wrong.
Happily, I now have a decent enough relationship with my parents. I’m happily married to a wonderful man that I am completely and utterly in love with and I have a couple of adorable children, so, yeah – I did alright… in the end.
What do you identify as?
I stared at the paper and then glanced around to the rest of my classmates to see how they were fairing with the ambiguous question.
My eyes settled on my best friend, Verity. She glanced across at me and winked and then, she started to write. I knew exactly what she was going to talk about. Her budding relationship with Samantha Yeomans from our rival school was going verywell.
I looked back at the question and sighed. What do you identify yourself as?
Well, if I was going to assume that it meant sexually, I was going to have to downright lie about it.
To the outside world, I identified as straight, because to identify as anything else in my community would be a fucking disaster. I couldn’t come out to my friends – well, I’d totally come out to Verity as bisexual, because she was my best friend and also my twin sister, Virginia’s best friend so there was no way I could get away with those two not knowing that I had at least someinterest in guys. But there was no way I could come out to my parents. They had enough on their plates with both Houston and now El both showing signs of being gay. I think they thought they’d nipped any of us being gay in the bud when they banished Dallas, our eldest brother, from the family a few years back. Things had gotten better between the olds and Dallas since, but it had been a long and rocky path to tread to get where they were with each other again now, and for us younger kids, it really made Dallas a stranger to us. We were only just getting to know him and his husband and kids again, now. They’d have a blue fit and go up in smoke if I came out, too…
The biggest problem of all was the fact that I’d managed to land myself with a girlfriend that I didn’t order. I know. How stupid? Biggest problem of all – how was I supposed to explain the fact that I was actually gay to her? We hadn’t been together all that long – only a couple of months but I was certain that she’d be horrified and I just couldn’t do it. She had no idea that Seth Bond and I had sex on a pretty much daily basis (and thank God neither did my sister or my best friend) and had done for the last couple of years since that school camp when we ‘discovered’ each other. She would never understand why I agreed to dating her and that I’d only agreed to prove to myself that I wasn’t gay…
I liked dick. Correction, I liked Seth Bond’s dick and it so wasn’t a big deal for either of us. Seth wasn’t gay, either – he just liked sex and he was between girlfriends at the moment… 
“Oh, Lyle, be reasonable.” Mum scoffed at me, “El’s a lovely boy. You need to look out for him…”
I rolled my eyes and tried my best not to groan with despair at my interfering mother. El might well be a lovely boy – adorable even – but there was no way I was going to admit thatto my terribly interfering, match-making mother. (Although I doubt she’d be so quick to match-make me with another boy, no matter how modern and forward thinking she liked to think she was). El Paso Fender was cute, I’d give him that – but he was two years younger than me and that made our friendship totally uncool now that I was in year nine and he’d only just made it up to senior school and was the sassiest year-seven ever.
I sighed. El Paso had more sass than someone of his age had any right to have and he was definitely making it his mission to railroad me into being his BFF – and I honestly couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to just let it happen.
I looked at her incredulously, “You want me to look out for El Paso Fender? Why the hell do I need to do that? He’s got more chat than Alan Carr and he’s got about twenty siblings who are all more than capable of looking out for him.” It was true. He was one of five boys and God only knows how many sisters I’d met, too, although the oldest one didn’t live with them anymore.
Weirdly, they were all named after Texan cities. Well, the boys were – the girls were actually named after different states instead, Virginia and Georgia – ah, maybe there were only two sisters, then… Whatever. I wondered why one of them wasn’t called Texas. Maybe I’d have to ask him, since there was no way I wasn’t being railroaded into being his protector. “Besides,” I added futilely, beginning to realise I was grumbling more to make a point than meaning it from the heart, “he’s a pain in the backside and I don’t want to look out for him.” Mum gave me one of her looks and I rolled my eyes, “Oh, alright.” I grumbled, “But everyone’s gonna laugh at me.” I was aware that I was beginning to whine.
She smiled, “No one’s going to laugh – and those that might aren’t worth your time or effort, anyway.”
I huffed even though I knew, deep down, that she was right – and I also knew deep down that I was always going to agree to look out for El Paso. Because he was adorable and I loved having him constantly hanging around. The fact that his parents owned the massive boat yard and marina was a massive bonus too – since we generally hung around there rather than at home and his treehouse was absolutely magnificent.
It was the most fitting end to the most awful day I’d had in a long time. For starters, I didn’t have my partner in crime-fighting, Harrison to bounce off and I was getting heartily sick of doing things alone.
Resources being what they were, meant that I rarely had another officer to attend calls with. Most of the time that wasn’t an issue but today had been an absolute nightmare – and it wasn’t over yet. Great…
I was just heading home and had just managed to get off the M25, which was, as always, packed solid. Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like I had a wife and child waiting for me at home like my partner, Harrison had.
I tried hard not to be jealous of his wonderful life. It wouldn’t work for me anyway, since I’d never fancied girls in all of my life, as hard as I’d tried in my teens to fit in with the rest of my, completely heterosexual mates.
The sad truth was, that, as masculine as I appeared to be, I was as gay as gay got. I just didn’t look it. I know – unfair, since it never got me noticed by any of the guys I ever fancied.
Anyway, I digress. I was passing an industrial estate when I spotted someone sitting on the edge of one of the buildings. It wasn’t particularly high-rise – but high enough if you were of the mind to do damage to yourself.
For one fleeting second, I contemplated just driving by and going home but then my inner-Superman kicked in and with a massive sigh, I pulled off the main road and into the car park.
It took me a good ten minutes to find my way into the building and another five or so to get up to the roof but finally, I managed it.
I walked across the roof and calmly made me way towards the person on the roof. I could now tell that the person was a guy – and not a particularly old guy at that. Not that that made any difference – he was clearly in some kind of trouble and I was, allegedly, paid to help.
I stepped over the railing that would normally stop people from going over the edge and went to sit by his side. Not too close – I wasn’t wishing to freak him out – but close enough to have a conversation.
“Nice evening.” I commented.
He looked at me suspiciously, “If you say so.” He finally responded.
I shrugged, “It’s not pissing it down with rain. I might make it home in time to watch the end of The Last Leg – what’s there to complain about?”
