The Secret Life Of.....

I was on Disney’s website checking out the new upcoming movies when my cell phone rang. My friend Chris called to ask me out for a party.
Somehow, Chris still consider himself a closet homosexual even though anyone who has ever spent a late night at his place knows otherwise. You didn’t have to clear a thousand on your SATs to figure it out.
All Chris’s classmates from high school and college, along with his parents, were still in the dark about his homosexuality.
Normally I would say yes to a party, but I was still pissed about the last time I saw him. He flirted with a guy he knew that I wanted just to make me angry.

One day, our friend Zack told us that he’s going to meet someone and he wants us to be with him, (he doesn’t like being alone when meeting someone new.) Zack, Chris and I met the stud in a restaurant; he looked like a cross between Matt LeBlanc and The Incredible Hulk. While clearly this wasn’t going to be a relationship, I wanted him for myself ,to take advantage of me.
His name was Mathew and he was cute, in a darker, more mysterious than average way. Chris immediately thought about him but I told him to back off.
Chris and Zack started an intense conversation about religion and life on other planets. Those two topics were about as interesting to me as Tyra Banks’ love life, so I just bided my time and waited for an in to the conversation.
The more Chris talked, the more I got the impression that something was definitely wrong with him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I kept glancing at Mathew for his reaction, but he was barely paying attention to me. Maybe I didn’t look so good, I worried. But I knew that was impossible. I had had a facial and a haircut that day. I’d have to be Tarzan to not look good at that point.
Chris was going on and on about how sometimes he can see his dead relatives, not really leaving much room for me, Zack and Mathew to get to know each other any better–– though I don’t really care about Zack’s situation, he’s dumb and I don’t like him.
I needed to talk to Mathew and charm him, so he would start paying attention to me, but he didn’t seem interested at all.
We were having dessert when Chris said he had to go to the Men’s room. Finally, I would get some stage time. I could talk about my theory of dwarfism and how I think there is an undeniable connection between them and the Little Dipper. It wouldn’t be long before Mathew realized that I was more than just a pretty face.

But still, he kept on eating and nodding only. I hated Chris, and Zack for no reason.
Later that night, Mathew said sorry to Zack and he asked him if he can have Chris’s number. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

So when Chris asked me to go to the party with him, I refused.
“Come on, pleeeease, it will be so much fun. It’s at the Marina club, there’s an open buffet, and there will be hot men.” These were all valid arguments, but I wasn’t giving in. I was seriously considering cutting him off for good.
“I’m not even sure I ever want to see you again,” I told him.
“Don’t say that!” he hissed. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re totally overreacting.”
“Chris, you are ridiculous, you have no respect for anyone. How many times have I been to your parents’ house and not only behaved myself but quoted actual verses from Qur'an?”
“What if I pay you?” he asked.
I had always dreamed of being a professional escort but never thought that there was any real money in it. He wanted me to go there because, on numerous occasions, I would hit on a guy whom Chris liked, and if he did respond, Chris would move in; This way no one ever found out that Chris was indeed a flaming homosexual, unless Chris ended up sleeping with him, in which case he spontaneously found out.
“How much?” I asked.
“Two hundred dollars,” he offered.
I guffawed loudly and then pretended to choke. “Homo you don’t!” I said. “That’s not nearly enough money to pretend I like you again like before.”
“Please, please, just come with me, it will be fun, we can both meet people.”
“I’m not picking up guys for you,” I said. “Not for two hundred dollars.”
“You’ll do it.”
“Not for two hundred,” I told him. “I’ll need some other incentive.”
“No more than two hundred and fifty dollars.”
“That sounds reasonable,” I said in my best impression of a litigator.
Chris picked me up in a town car outside my place.
“Look at you!” he squealed as I made my way to the car. “Three words: beau-teee-ful!”
“Thanks,” I replied with cool air of an aristocrat. I wasn’t giving in to him that easily; he was going to have to work for my forgiveness.
The marina club is located north of the country and, as the name might suggest, overlooks the sea. Throughout the course of our ride, when I wasn’t staring out the window, I was reminding Chris of how lucky he was to have a friend like me.
“You better drop this shit when we get to the party. I said I was sorry and let’s focus on tonight,” he said. “You could meet your future boyfriend here. There are a lot of rich and successful young men in the club.”
“I’m not that shallow, asshole. I don’t need money,” I said matter-of-factly. “It’s way more important for them to be good-looking.”
We finally arrived at the front door. Chris grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the patio. There were various food stations all around and two bars positioned at either end.
“I’ll get us drinks, you find somewhere to sit,” I told him. I went to the bar and ordered sodas.
“Ten dollars, please,” the bartender said.
“This isn’t an open bar?” I asked.
“Only for well drinks,” he told me. “The well drink is Gordon’s.”
“Who’s Gordon?” I asked him.
He half smiled at me, shrugging only one of his shoulders.
“Hold on,” I said and ran to Chris. “Give me money, its not an open bar. This party is starting out very badly, Chris. Not so good, so far!” I asserted that an unhappy Sam would lead to unhappy times. He got the message.
After I paid for our drinks, I came back to find Chris being harassed by a middle-aged woman wearing a strapless cotton-poly blend that pushed her breasts out like a shelf. Her hair was three shades too light and she was holding what I presumed could only be a Chardonnay. Women like this love Chardonnay. She seemed very taken with Chris.
She kept moving closer to him and I didn’t want to steal her moment, so I discreetly took a seat at the table behind where they were standing and observed. Five minutes later, she noticed and introduced herself. “I’m Jessica,” she said, extending her free hand.
“Sam, how are you?” Chris said.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you friends?” she pointed back and forth between us.
“Yes, he’s my swim instructor, we’re very close.” I winked at her.
Chris turned his head in order to avoid eye contact with me and with her.
“Are you a professional swimmer?” she asked.
“Synchronized swimming, actually, I’m the only professional synchronizer who can compete without a nose plug,” I told her.
“Is that right?” she asked excitedly. “How are you able to do that?”
“Well, it’s not easy,” I told her. “I’ve trained myself to hold my breath underwater as well as above water for close to six minutes at a time. Each competition is five minutes.”
I, of course, didn’t have the faintest idea if this was true, but five minutes sounded like a reasonable amount of time to be able to hold your breath. Why anyone needed to hold his breath above water was beyond me, but when I make up things up, I rarely have a filter.
She had a confused look on her face and opened her mouth to say something when I cut her off.
“There’s a good chance I’ll be competing in London in 2012.”
Chris coughed loudly and sat down. “Actually––”
I interrupted again. “He’s so superstitious, he doesn’t like me to talk about the Olympics or any competition before the trials, he thinks I’ll jinx myself,” I said dismissively. “I keep telling him God gave me talent and there’s nothing to jinx about that.”
“Amen!” she said.
“Hallelujah!” I responded.
She turned to Chris and put her hand on his arm. “A swim coach. You must be in fantastic shape!”
Chris smiled sheepishly as I got up to excuse myself.
I wandered over into another room dominated by a massive chandelier. The club was huge and extravagant, with four separated patios. I love places that are spread out like that; this was once you embarrass yourself in one area, another forum is just a hop, skip, and jump away.
I went to the buffet and filled my plate with some chicken with Asian sauce and went to sit by a window all by my lonesome. I put on my sad, wounded, dovelike expression to let any potential male suitors know I was available and, more important, vulnerable.
After a good ten minutes of no one approaching me, I saw a hottie walk by me in a beautiful pink shirt. He demanded a compliment.
“Excuse me,” I said as he glanced around, trying to see where the voice was coming from, “I absolutely love your shirt.”
“Thanks,” he said, finally noticing me. He smiled. “That’s sweet.”
He sat down next to me and we started talking.
“By the way, I’m Nathan, and you are..?”
“I’m Sam.”
Nathan told me that he was an Entrepreneur, Digital Marketer, Economist, Financial Manager, and Photographer. He studied in University of Sunderland in UK and had just came back from there. He didn’t know that many people and came here to try to reconnect with some friends. Most of his friends were married and he had just ended a relationship with someone because he hated his ex-boyfriend and didn’t want to expose his future offspring to them.
This could definitely turn into a relationship. I knew because I didn’t want to sleep with him right away, and I’ve felt that way only a couple of times. He was solid, good-natured, and most of all he was successful in his job.
He told me that I look quiet familiar.
“Really? Why?” I asked, worried if he saw my profile in that gay website I’ve been fooling around for weeks.
“I don’t know, the way you talk and the way you look are very familiar.” he said.
“Well, maybe déjà vu.” I said, taking a sip from my coke.
“Do you have any older brothers?” he asked.
“Yeah, one.” I smiled.
“How old is he?” he asked.
“WHAT?” I shouted, because they started playing techno songs and couldn’t hear anything.
“How OLD IS HE?” Nathan screamed this time.
“Nineteen.” I said as I came closer.
“His name is Sean?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Oh god! I can’t talk to you I’m sorry” he said and shook my hand and left.”
“Hey! What’s wrong what happened?” I followed him.
“Your brother was my friend and we had a fight, we don’t talk.” he said
“Was he your ex right?” I said.
“Yes, do you know that he’s gay?” he asked.
I always thought that my brother was a homosexual but I couldn’t put my finger on it, he knew how to hide it from us.
“Yeah, I always knew.” I said, smiling.
“Okay, that’s awkward! I’m sorry for my behavior but I’ve been through a lot with your brother and I really don’t want to see him anymore.” he said.
And he started talking about what happened between him and my brother Sean, and how my father turned out to be such an asshole and dictator and who used to hit my mother, who was a doctor. I liked the fact that my mother isn’t a doctor; she works in a hospital as the coordinator of office files, but I didn’t reveal the truth and continued listening.
I corrected everything when he finished and told him that my father is one of the kindest people he’ll ever meet and he never hurt a fly, he couldn’t believe his ears and was very shocked and kept asking me questions and I kept laughing and correcting.
Nathan offered to drop me home. I smiled and hesitated because he might use me for revenge or something but he assured me he will be nothing but a gentleman. I accepted and went searching for Chris to tell him that I’m going home with this fine guy; I found him flirting with a guy with a shoulder larger than life and there behind him I saw the drunk lady dancing alone.

In the car he told me that I seem much better than my brother and he’d love to meet me again and we started talking about our lives and why my brother lied about lots and lots of things.
“Maybe he wants to be more interesting,” I said as my mind drifted to the fact that I had discovered lots of my brother’s secrets and could now use them when he wanted to be an asshole with me again, and started laughing and Nathan started laughing. It’s kind of ironic that we started laughing about whole different subjects.
He stopped in front of a huge white house with a big garden in the same area I live in.
“Okay? Why you stopped?” I asked Nathan.
“Because this is your place!” he reminded me.
“No it’s not!” I looked at him, confusingly smiling.
He started laughing hysterically and I looked at him, worried that he’s a serial killer and will kill me with a shovel in his car trunk.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Sean used to stand up here every time I come to pick him up.” he said.
“No way!” I said.
“Yeah he told me that this is his place and your dad built it too” he said.
I couldn’t help it but laugh again and pointing straight to keep on moving. He dropped me home and I kissed him goodbye and since then he’s one the closest friends I’ve ever been with, but of course, Sean still doesn’t know.