Chapter 10

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"They stayed up all night trying to convince some guy that they couldn't do what he wanted. They ended up going to our apartment."

Michael was driving me to his apartment where Emilio and Lafayette were at. They had been gone for four hours, so obviously it was a difficult guy. Hopefully the guy would understand in the end or they'd make some deal. I remembered what Lafayette said about how some people would get really angry if he couldn't do a favor for them. I shook the thought from my head when we pulled up to a tall apartment complex.

Emilio and Michael lived in a penthouse. Since they both made so much money and shared rent, then they could afford to live in a penthouse while also being able to splurge on themselves. We went up to the penthouse and it was like Lafayette's townhouse confined to one large floor, but kind of smaller. They had a very modern and yet hippie-esque type of theme going on. Very cozy.

We went into the den area where Emilio and Lafayette were at. Their couch was really weird but cool because there was one stationary part that looked like a regular couch, but then there were these seats and ottomans that could roll to the couch so it kind of made a bed and you just sort of latched them together, which is what Emilio and Lafayette did. They were lying on the bed-couch together, both passed out from exhaustion, looking cute as they cuddled up to each other.

"You can sit down. I'll get you a glass of hot chocolate," Michael said, tossing his bag and coat.

I sat down on one of the small other couches, taking off my coat. Michael came back with two mugs of hot chocolate and whip cream, handing one to me as he sat down with me. "I've been meaning to ask you," I said. "How did you all meet?"

"Well, Lafayette and I grew up in the same town and everything but he went to one elementary school and I went to the other, but in middle school that's when we kind of met. We got acquainted in sixth grade but in seventh grade is when we actually became friends. That's the year Emilio moved to town, too. We ended up joining the football team and that's how we got to know each other. I hated football, Emilio liked it but hadn't played, and Lafayette didn't mind it but he was forced to play it and so he started to dislike it. There was one day when the coach was yelling at me because I sucked so bad and everyone thought I was gay anyway and he was kind of a homophobe so he was just picking on me. Plus, he didn't like Hispanics, and so after he was done yelling at me and mortifying me in front of all those jerks who talked shit about me behind my back, he yelled at Emilio, but Emilio was actually pretty good at it.

So there was the coach, shouting at us, and then Lafayette did this really great thing. He went up to the coach and told him to stop yelling at us. The coach liked Lafayette and so he was thrown off, but let's face it - everyone likes Lafayette. The coach tried to argue with him but Lafayette was like..." Michael laughed. "He was talking to the coach like he was his boss kind of, which is just funny because he's everyone's boss now. It was just funny because he was a seventh grader telling this coach to shut up. He then said practice was over and told Emilio and I to come with him and we just rode our bikes together to a small creek and hung out. We were inseparable ever since. Then with Vince and Donald, since they were Lafayette's neighbors, Lafayette introduced us to them and they became like our second set of parents and we'd go to their house a lot just to get away and actually, you know, be gay."

"That's kind of funny that you all turned out to be gay," I said.

"Yeah, but there were rumors about me all through middle and high school, and so that's one reason why Lafayette wanted to befriend me. The coach yelled at alot of people but Lafayette stood up for me because he thought I was, and he noticed the way Emilio had looked at me before so he thought Emilio was gay and he just decided to stick up for us gay boys."

"Oh. That makes sense. How did you and Emilio start to date?"

A cute smile formed on his face and he tilted his head. "Well, it's kind of hard to say. After we got more comfortable with each other we were kind of an item but never said so but Vince, Donald, and Lafayette could always tell it was bound to happen. Then in eighth grade we had our first kiss but never said anything about it and just acted like it didn't happen. We'd always be sure to sit next to each other and when we had our sleep overs we'd lie close and sometimes cuddle. Though it was the summer before our freshman year when we definitely became an item. It was one of those hot, sweaty summer nights, you know? The kind when it's midnight but you're out on the town, not ready to sleep, feeling adventurous and wanting to make those memories. Like you just feel very liberated, you know, and we had gone up to one of the wooded areas in Brookfield, going down some trail, and we sat atop a hill and..."

He sighed. "I don't know. It just happened. We just kissed, and didn't stop that time." He shrugged, smiling, looking so cute as he remembered the night. "It was one of those moments where everything simply fell into place."

"That's cute."

"Yeah," he sighed, looking to a far away place. "So, when are you and Lafayette getting together?" he asked out of the blue.

"We are not going to get together," I groaned.

"Whatever. You two freaking live together. You sleep in the same bed and cuddle each other."

"Look at them. They're just friends who are asleep in the same bed and are cuddling," I said, pointing at Emilio and Lafayette.

"That's because they're like brothers. Emilio didn't get hired because he has a nice ass like you did. He got hired because he's best friends with Lafayette, and he just happens to have a nice ass, too."

"I'm just to look at, not to touch. If he wanted to be with me he probably would've done something by now."

"Don't be so sure. He's kind of a pussy when it comes to that type of thing."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah right. He's the most confident person ever."

"With everything except for dating and relationships. Look, he when it comes to just hook ups, he's confident. Sex? He's confident, but when it comes to actually asking someone out he's nervous as hell. Like with Marcus. He didn't ask him out. Marcus asked him on a date. Lafayette really wanted to ask him, but he was really afraid. And after Marcus, he became even more terrified. He's afraid that if he breaks up with someone they'll try to kill themselves. Everyone is afraid about asking and getting into a relationship, but he's ten times more afraid, and it's understandable.

He's just afraid of his sexuality and his parents disapproving. He's afraid someone will take his partner hostage. He's afraid they'll be another Marcus. He doesn't want to let someone in and let them know all his secrets but then break up and have his secrets possibly be revealed. So people should be afraid to date him, too, but if they think long and hard about what they want in life and about him, then I hope they're willing to take a chance and try him. Something tells me it will really work out in the end.You make him happy..."

I sighed. Would no one ever understand that I do not plan on sleeping with my boss? But...Michael does have a point. He should be afraid to date someone, because he could fall in love with them and they could end up getting hurt one way or another. But then people should be afraid to date him as well. So, like he said, maybe I really should think hard about it all. Because - yes, I'll admit it - I want to call him mine, but I might not in the future and he might not be what I thought. So I will have to think about it, and if I really want to be with him, then I might go balls out and possibly ask him. But god, how horrible would it be if he turned me down or was not interested in the slightest? We live together and work together. It would be really awkward and I'm already pretty awkward as it is.

Michael stood up and grabbed Lafayette's foot, shaking him. "Get up," he ordered. "You have to take Em home. I have to have sex with my boyfriend."

"I'm too tired," Emilio grumbled into the pillows.

"Tough crap."

Lafayette sat up, drowsily, and stretched his back.

"Did you make a deal?" Michael asked.

"Yeah," he sighed, covering his mouth to yawn.

"He's annoying," Emilio said, rolling over. "I hate working with him."

"I know." Lafayette stood up and grabbed his jacket, throwing it on and grabbing his keys. "We'll see you guys tomorrow."

Lafayette and I left and went down to where his car was parked. We went back to the flat and he fell onto the bed without changing. I took off his shoes, him letting me. I removed his coat and he rolled over onto his back. He finally stood up and removed his shirt, tossing it into the hamper. We both changed into our pajamas, me wearing black trunks and a white shirt. He put on his red pants and decided to make a late snack.

My late snacks consisted of packaged pastries, but his were a little more than that. I found it impossible to believe he actually knew how to cook and that he was freaking amazing at it. He was so perfect. Even if he had relationship and family issues and led an underground business that was illegal, he was perfect in my definition of perfect. The fact that he had flaws made him realistic, and that was perfect to me. He was scared to date or to love, to let his guard down, to reveal his sexuality. He had a troublesome relationship with his family and he was basically like a mob star. I liked that though. I used to be scared to date, but after a while I just went for it. I was surprisingly confident when asking people on a date.

My problem was I hardly ever went out to do so and Lafayette was not just a random cute guy at the bar. He was my boss and a friend. I don't know about love because I've never been in a situation where I could possibly fall in love. Then as for sexuality, who isn't afraid to come out? But I figured I could help him realize there's nothing to be afraid of. Everything else I didn't know about. My family and I were loving and I wasn't an underground criminal.

He made chocolate brownies but they were made with expensive chocolate that was to die for and he added buttercream pink icing that was utterly delicious. They were so moist and good and I think I gained like ten pounds because I tried to eat so many.

"Why don't you cook more?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Either I'm too busy or if it's late then I just don't feel like it. I like cooking for people more than myself."

"I'm a really bad cook. I'm just untalented in general."

He laughed. "You must be good at something."

"Everyone says that."

"Come on. You like to write. I'm certain your writing is stupendous."

"You said stupid? Yeah it is."

"Didn't you play an instrument?"

"I played alto saxophone in high school but I really didn't like it. I wanted to play trumpet or bassoon. Saxophones are basically meant for jazz bands but I never wanted to join jazz band. Trumpets are the holy grail instrument. They can be in any type of band, including marching band and I loved marching band. I wanted to join a drum corps but they don't take saxophone players. The bassoon can be in almost any band except for marching band but I could've been in an orchestra. The only reason why I played saxophone was because it was my cousin's and she wasn't playing it anymore. I was always last chair because I never cared much about it. I was the best in marching band. I was a stupendous marcher."

"See? You're a great marcher. I was never in marching band."

"I doubt I'm a great marcher anymore considering I haven't done it in forever. So still untalented."

"You make people laugh, Em. That's a talent."

"No I don't."

"Yeah you do." He looked at me, leaning against the headboard. "You always make people feel better and make them laugh, sometimes all you have to do is laugh and everyone joins in. It's contagious."

"That's not a talent. It's a characteristic."

He shook his head. "You're unbelievable. Get some sleep."

"Gladly." I turned my back to him and spooned up to my blanket instead, hearing him chuckle behind me.

He turned off the light and threw the blanket over him. "You know, at least you're attractive. If you're attractive, then people just assume you're capable of doing everything."

"Like you?" I asked. "You can do everything."

"Nonsense."

"You're athletic, artistic, smart, creative, funny, kind. You're the whole deal."

"I have flaws."

"Who cares if you do illegal deeds? Everyone is kind of a criminal and you don't hurt people. It's a vigilante thing. And having problems with your family is not a flaw, it's just a problem."

"I'm reactive."

"What?" I asked, turning over to face him.

"It means I'm not myself. I adapt to what people want me to be, and if I'm not what they want me to be, then I hide it, like my sexuality. I don't think before I act sometimes. I sometimes know deep down that something might not be the best decision, but I still act before thinking that. I can be in denial a lot, too. I'm a coward occasionally. I'm perceived as a perfect person, but I've made more mistakes than so many people, and most of these mistakes are worse than common mistakes."

He was looking up at the ceiling, to a distant place, the way Michael looked earlier thinking about the past.

"Michael and I were talking about you when you were asleep," I said.

"I know. I woke up at one point."

My heartbeat quickened, and my face turned red and blotchy, because if he heard our conversation then he must've heard some very personal things. "What did you hear?" I asked.

"Michael was calling me a pussy when I woke up and he talked about me and my coward ways and told you to sleep with me. Just the normal stuff he gripes about with me."

"He tells you you're a pussy and that you're a coward?"

"Yeah, when we start talking about my love life, which is usually at gatherings when he wants me to make a move on people there."

"I guess he has a point on being afraid to date people, and for people to date you."

"I feel like I won't be ready to date until I retire or things start to smooth out and slow down. Things just keep building and building and keep getting better. I work constantly and so I'd hardly have time for someone. I definitely can't date anyone until I'm done with my underground business either."

"When do you plan on being done with that?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know. In the not too distant future. I've never meant to do it for a long time. I have quite a bit of money in my savings account and I only did it so I could have some extra money in case everything comes crashing down. A back up. I should probably quit sooner, though. Things are going to slow down within the next five years, and I'll be available to date. I should before I get old."

"You're only thirty."

"I turn thirty-one in January and I don't want to have kids when I'm forty-five."

"I think you'll be a dad in your thirties, Faye. Things will slow down sooner than you think, they already are. You'll fall in love soon and get married and be a dad when you're like thirty-seven."

"You should be a fortune teller."

"I do like watching Long Island Medium."

He chuckled and sighed, putting his hands behind his head. We sat in silence and I watched him. I could see the gears turning in his head and I was curious to know what he was thinking about. Me? The future? His past? What? When he asked me his next question, I knew what he was thinking. "So he told you about Marcus?" he asked me quietly.

The air in the room changed and I pulled the blanket over me, curling up to it. "Yeah," I sighed.

"What did they say about him?"

"They told me the other day and showed me a picture of him. They mentioned how you met him in college, all of you were friends, you dropped out and offered him a job, you dated, he had issues, you broke up, and he jumped off of a building and he's in a coma."

He nodded, sighing.

"Vince said that he wasn't that stable."

"No. He really wasn't. He wasn't that happy. Usually when it was just him and I, sometimes when we were with Michael and Emilio, but he just had irrational thoughts."

"How did you meet?" I asked.

"Well," he began. "We were in a band class together. This was first semester of my junior year, the second week of school. I dropped out later in November. I had already started to plan the company and everything but was still in school. I played first trumpet. I wasn't first trumpet but played trumpet one and he was the first third chair trumpet player. Our professor was very strict and pretty mean. He yelled at people a lot but within his yelling came great advice, but he could still make people cry. The first chair trumpet, the first second trumpet, and the first third chair trumpet all had a little soli part and the professor made them play, which was fine. Though then he made them each individually play and Marcus got nervous and so he messed up. The professor yelled at him a lot and was very mean. Throughout the class Marcus stayed quiet and very still, but everyone could tell he was on the verge of tears. He didn't let one slip during class but after I went and found him sitting outside alone, in the rain, crying. He was drenched, but since he was a little off he didn't really notice. I went over to him since I had an umbrella and shared it with him. Then we just talked and he said that he had a hard time playing his part so I offered to help him practice it. We rehearsed and he got better and the professor said he saw great improvement. That's how we met and I started to put together the pieces of the company and it was launched on November 1st. I left for Thanksgiving and never came back."

"Were you and Marcus dating at that time?"

"No. He saw that I hadn't come back and so he called me and something must've come over him because he asked me on a date. We didn't get to date that much in December because I was still figuring out the company but he had become friends with Michael and everyone so I offered him a job and he started in January, dropping out of college. I turned twenty-one in January and we later dated in February. Things were fine but over summer he kept telling me we should do things differently. His ideas were faulty and since I was turning them down he became more and more upset which would cause him to have mood swings and to act out. We started to fight more and he wouldn't show up sometimes.

He cheated on me, and I know it's true because he told me. He would get really drunk even though he was underage and hung out with sketchy people, taking different pills and drinks from strangers. He'd always call me and ask me to pick him up so I would and he'd be crying and apologizing. I remember there was one night when it was an okay day for him. We were lying in bed at the apartment I shared with Emilio and Michael and he said he was just going to get worse."

"What did he mean?" I asked quietly.

"He wasn't going to get more stable. He said it happened to his mother. She seemed to actually get better, and she seemed happy on Easter, but the day after she killed herself. He said he could feel his mental illness inside of him, as in he physically felt it. He was scared, and I couldn't let him go out on his own. Though we started to fight more, around November, and we would just get very angry with each other. We'd fight and he'd go out more but he stopped apologizing and crying for it. He'd just come in, strung out on pills. It was in December when we were just screaming at each other uncontrollably, and then I said it was over. We were over and he was fired. He left, and I tried to find him but I couldn't. He moved from his apartment. We didn't use cell phones back then. He ended up living in an alley and things got worse for him, mentally. I figured he just moved to a different part of the city or back with his dad. I still thought of him but I thought he was fine. In February, on the fifteenth when him and I had gotten together the year before, our anniversary, he jumped off of a building.

I didn't know about it until the next day when the hospital called. There was an intern there who knew Marcus and knew that I had been with him. She didn't know we broke up and so she told the doctors to call me. I answered and they said Marcus Kingsley was in the hospital. He jumped from a four story building and somehow survived. Everyone was shocked that he survived. He broke both arms because apparently he put them out in front of him, as if he changed his mind. He got a concussion, a broken nose, a broken knee, a punctured lung, and internal bleeding. Though he had hit his head so hard he was knocked into a coma.

I knew nothing of his family, other than that his mother had passed. I knew his father lived somewhere in New Jersey but I knew Marcus and him didn't exactly get along much. I don't have legal authorization or anything. So, he's still there. Every broken bone has healed by now and since he's basically rested them all then they should be in good shape, other than the fact that he missed eight years of his life, nine in February."

"Do you just wish that he'd wake up tomorrow or something?"

An intense look appeared in his eyes as he looked at the ceiling, his brow furrowed. He shook his head, rubbing his temples. "No," he said. "I don't want him to die, but I don't want him to wake up and remember what happened. So much has changed within these past years. It's so hard to say this, but I think things would be better, if he just slowly drifted off, passed away, and started a new life, or went to Heaven or whatever happens. It's so hard to say that, but things are only going to get worse if he wakes, and I don't want him to be any more miserable." He covered his face with both hands, and I wasn't sure if he was crying or not, but I realized how brave he was for saying that. He wasn't a monster or a bad person for saying that. It took a lot of courage to say that, and he must've trusted me a lot to confess that. I understood it, though.

"My grandmother on my mom's side had a daughter named Samantha, and she was slightly mentally challenged and was in a wheelchair. She was in pain a lot and had surgeries often. My aunt Sam ended up passing away before I was born when she was fifteen, but my grandmother told me that it was better for her to have passed away because she only would've become more sick and would've been in more pain. She cried when she told me and so did I because I was only eight and naïve, but I knew it was hard on her for saying that and it was brave of her. I knew she imagined that Aunt Sam was reincarnated as someone who wasn't in pain. It wasn't about her ability to walk, it was about how she was always in pain. I don't really know what I believe in, but I think if you believe in a better afterlife then sometimes death seems less scary."

He moved his hands and he wasn't crying but he might've let a few tears slip. He looked very stressed and tired just thinking and talking about it.

I moved closer to him and grabbed his hand, looking down at him. "Just close your eyes and imagine what his life would be like if he were reincarnated." He closed his eyes and I rested my head on his chest, him putting his arm around me. I closed my eyes with a sigh. "Maybe he gets turned into a beautiful boy. He lives merrily and goes to college to study political science and fights for people's rights. He meets a boy and falls in love on the way. They get married and they have three beautiful kids. He gets older and becomes the first gay president. He makes America beautiful and his son marries the beautiful daughter of Lafayette Jeff and the two run the company together, making America wonderful to live in. They all have grandkids and they gather for all holidays and they'd be charitable to the world.  He could be first chair trumpet player for the New York Philharmonics and teach children who can't afford their own instruments or lessons to play, all for free. He'd be generous and loving. He'd lie down in bed with his husband and they'd think about wonderful things. They'd have a beautiful conversation and talk about great things, like their past lives. They'd wonder what they were and they'd hope that this life they're in was better, was what they wanted in life. They'd fall asleep to their words, whispering about their pasts. They'd wake up with the sun shining, smiling tiredly at each other. They'd take the day off and he'd buy his husband lunch and-" I looked up at Lafayette, to see that he was asleep.

I smiled and pulled the blanket over us because I knew he liked to be covered. I sighed and closed my eyes, letting the night take us away.

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"She rather enjoys sweaters."

"Great. I have a new line of cashmere sweaters that aren't in stores yet."

"Why wouldn't they be in stores yet? It's Christmas time and this is when people are buying."

"I have new stuff coming out every month, Em. I make them cheap so everyone buys them. Here, they're right down here."

We were walking through his Lafayette Fashion building on the upper floor where his clothes were made. I don't think I had ever seen so many sewing machines. He brought me to a storage area where his clothes that weren't yet in stores were at. My mom loved sweaters, and so he was going to take a cashmere sweater and get it for her. Well, we were going to claim it as our gift together. So we got her a cashmere sweater, my dad a new pair of golf clubs, my grandmother a necklace, my other grandmother a new hat, my grandfather a pair of new shoes, my other grandfather a gift card to Lafayette Hardware, my aunt and uncle New York Giants tickets, my uncle free maid service for a year, my great aunt and uncle a new DVD player, for my cousins I got them gift cards to Lafayette Department Store.

"I have to buy one more gift," I told him. "For my sister."

He stopped and looked at me weird. "Since when do you have a sister?"

"Well, she's my half sister. Before college, my dad knocked up some chick and they had a baby girl named Alisha. I never get to see her but she's coming this year. She lived with her mom most of her life but my dad sent money and he'd visit and everything. They have a decent relationship and everything. Her mom passed away four years ago, though. They use to live in California. She still lives there. She's a journalist and a bartender on weekends. She makes really great money so she flies out sometimes to see us. She's really awesome. She's a typical California blonde but she's bisexual, which is one reason why I adore her. She always says she feels bad for bisexual people because it's a stereotype that they're sluts but most aren't and she exemplifies the stereotype because she's very sexually confident. I never mentioned her?"

He shook his head at me.

"Oh, well maybe the time just never came up. I'm just gonna get her a gift card to a lingerie store." I shrugged.

"Alright."

"She looks so much like me, though. I look more like my dad and she looks a lot like him, too. People can tell we're related, but they think we have the same mom and dad. Both blue eyes, naturally tan, same facial structure, same smile. She has blonde hair from her mom and I have the brunette hair from my dad, and yet my mom has blonde hair so when we go out together everyone still thinks we're a big family. She's always been close with us, we just don't get to see her. She has a great personality and my family loves her and takes her in, especially since she doesn't have anyone on her mom's side. I wish she'd move here. I need a girlfriend."

He smiled. "Sounds like you really care about her."

"I do. She lived with us once when I was in middle school because her mom needed time to make money. She's only five years older than me but we were still really close."

"Well, I'll be glad to meet her."

"Yeah, you'll love her." Hm. That reminds me. I have to tell her that he's off limits. She loves people, but if one of her friends or a person she cares about is into someone then she stays as far away from them as possible. She's not a bitch who steals your crush away. Hell, she's basically a matchmaker. Maybe she can help me with Lafayette. "You need to open up just a lingerie store, Faye. She could probably design your clothes. She makes some of her own clothes."

He laughed. "I feel like if you were a girl then you'd be like her."

"What! No way! I'm too awkward and dorky." I laughed, my jaw dropped.

"As a boy you are."

I shook my head. "Whatever. I think I would love my boobs, though."

He laughed again and we walked down the street. It was dark and getting closer to Christmas. A light snow was falling and the street was scarce with people, only a few walking around, holding hands and window shopping. The lights were displayed around and bells were ringing in the distance. This really was the best time of the year, at least to me. Two handsome men walked past us, holding hands, carrying bags and smiling at each other. I was so tempted to just grab his hand, but who knew if paparazzi was around or not?

"Just to let you know, I like it when you call me Faye," he said.

"Really? I never realized I said it."

"People tried to call me it but they made a big deal of it. You just say it naturally and I like that."

"Well, I like it when you call me Emmy. It makes me feel...cuter."

He smiled over at me and grabbed some of my bags. "I'm excited to see your family again."

"Yeah, they'll love to see you. They'll love the gifts, too."

"Hopefully."

We walked back to his car and put the gifts into the trunk. Before I walked to the passenger seat he grabbed my arm and said, "Wanna learn how to drive?"

"What? Now?" I asked.

"Yeah now. We're in a deserted parking lot. It'll be perfect."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's the best time."

I climbed into the driver's seat and moved it forward. He sat in the passenger seat and explained the basics to me because I didn't even know them. I started the car and slowly started to drive. I drove at about five mile per hour and he kept telling me to go faster but I wouldn't. So he stepped onto the gas for me and I squealed like a girl, did a donut, and continued to drive fast through the parking lot.

"If you get comfortable driving fast then it'll be easier. Turning is usually the tricky thing."

"Can we go home now?"

"Do you wanna drive?"

"Not really."

He laughed and we traded seats. He sped home and parked his car. We went up to the flat and stayed up wrapping the gifts, something I was actually better at than him. I was a great gift wrapper. He just didn't care enough to make it be wrapped nicely. We set them aside and changed into pajamas, then hopped into bed.

"Night Faye."

"Goodnight Emmy."