Date: Wed, 6 Apr 2011 12:36:16 +0100 From: Kyro Clark Subject: Glitter & Trauma Chapters 1 & 2 Glitter & Trauma Chapters 1 & 2 By Kyro ============================================================================== Disclaimer. This story is a work of fiction although it is loosely based on the real life experiences of the author. This story contains graphical depictions of sexual contact between two adult males. This story also contains harsh language or swearing and depicts scenes of alcohol and drug use. It should not be read by anyone where it is illegal to read such material and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights to this story. This story may not be published, copied or redistributed in any way without the explicit consent of the author. ============================================================================= Authors Note Hey! This is my first attempt at writing a story in 4 years. The last time I wrote a story I was still in school and it definitely wasn't like this :D. I've got a few quick things I want to mention first that I think are important. Firstly I'm from the UK. Scotland to be precise :D. So some of the words used may seem misspelled to our American cousins but I'm pretty sure there are no spelling mistakes. Secondly, I'm studying aeronautical engineering at the moment. This is important because I kinda live and die by reality. I know some people like to read stories and escape reality but this story is going to stay pretty grounded. Thirdly, I failed Higher English. Mostly because I didn't really like the subject. So this story could be utter crap. I'm waiting to see if I get any feedback before deciding on whether to continue the story. I've got big shoulders and if there's a consensus that the story sucks, or that my English really is that bad, then I'll give it up. Just give it to me straight. Finally I'm still closeted (I know *sigh*) so I haven't got anyone to edit for me. If you like the story, think I should continue it and want to edit for me then send me an email. Anyway that's all for now, I hope you enjoy the story. Send any feedback to: kyro3@hotmail.co.uk Thanks in advance :D ============================================================================= Chapters 1 & 2 I stood at the door of the stale and dusty room. The poignant smell of something sour haunted the room as my socked feet made their way across the floor to the foot of the bed. I dropped my rucksack and sat down. Looking around, it was hard to get excited about the room. The walls looked like they had been painted in the past 6 months but were a strange shade of green, somewhere between olive and jade. Not the usual bright colours I was accustomed to in my own room. Or I suppose I should say my old room. There is a small computer desk in the corner and a set of drawers for my clothes stand next to it. In the opposite corner there is an old fashioned wardrobe with a full size mirror on the front of it. I gaze at my reflection in the mirror for a moment. I couldn't help but think I looked like shit. I stand at a mere 5 feet 6 inches tall and I'm pretty sure my growing is all done. I weigh 130lbs and although this usually gives people the impression that I'm really skinny, thanks to my small frame and the many hours I spend running and swimming, I pass as just a regular sized teen. My round face looks like its ever pale and annoyingly youthful self. I look at my hair, it's getting long. I dyed almost all of my hair crimson red a while ago. My fringe, which usually just covers my right eye, is now so long that it's almost down to my chin. The part in the left side of my head allows the hair to stay away from my left eye and let me see. But it also allows people to look at my eye. And I hate my eyes. I was sick of reading stories about people with cobalt blue eyes that lit up and emerald green eyes that pierced through people's souls. Why the hell did I get stuck with these eyes? They were blue, yeah, sure. But unlike those in the stories, my irises had white spots in them giving the impression that my eyes were always glazed. Not the ideal look for a guy studying aeronautical engineering. The guy who rented me the room told me it had been unoccupied for a while and "needed some work". I'll say. I put my hand to the bridge of my nose and winced at the pain in my head. The events of the last few days had taken their toll on me and I was more than ready to switch off. To fall into the darkness of sleep and let the pain subside. At least for a while. I knew my troubles were too big to just disappear. My usually overly-active brain was having trouble dealing with even the simplest of tasks at the moment so I had yet to form a strategy as to how to deal with my problems. The sheets that were on the bed were covered with a thin layer of dust. I rose from the bottom of the bed and gave the duvet a shake. The dust rose from the duvet and swirled around the room like a hurricane. I began choking and cussing at myself for my own stupidity. As the grey particles of uncleanliness descended, I knew I had only one option. I pulled the duvet back and lay on top of the bed. I kept my jeans on but took off my socks and t-shirt. I pulled the duvet back over my half naked body and closed my eyes. Had it not been for the lack of sleep and downright emotional exhaustion I was suffering from, I doubt I could have slept in this filthy bed. But the tiredness washed over me and soon I fell into a hot and uneasy sleep. I awoke to the sun shining through the window directly onto me and my bed. I felt around in the pocket of my jeans and took out my Mobile Phone. I looked at the time. 7:55. I sighed inwardly and heaved myself out of bed. I took off my jeans and began rummaging through my rucksack. I had packed in such a rage and hurry that things were in no order whatsoever. After a few minutes, I found a pair of clean boxers, some socks, and a fresh pair of skinny jeans. I made my way out the door and into the hallway carrying my clothes. Thankfully the bathroom is directly across the hall from my room. It was mid-September and autumn was in full swing with the temperature reflecting this. I hurried to the bathroom and quickly closed the door. I looked around the bathroom. For a flat being shared with two guys (three now) the bathroom was actually quite clean. I dropped my clothes on the floor and walked over to the toilet to relieve my bladder. After doing so, I turned to look for a towel. There was a strange cupboard in the corner of the bathroom and when I opened it, I found my prize. I took the clean towel and threw it on the floor next to my clothes. I switched the shower on and while letting it heat up, I slipped out of my boxers. The second I stepped into the shower, the hot jets penetrated my muscles to the very core. I could feel all my tensions and anxieties easing away. I took a look around the bathtub and found some shower gel. After putting a healthy dollop of the green substance onto my hairless chest, I began to rub the gel all over my body. My body, while hardly a temple, was something that I both loved, and hated. I was the textbook definition of a twink. I had hair on my legs, and pubes of course, but due to the fact that my hair was kind of light, my arms and chest seemed almost bald. To be honest, my chest was bald but I'm not going to go around bragging about that. I'm a guy, I'm supposed to be hairy, right? The reason I say I love and hate my body is simple. I am seriously attracted to twinks. But like I said, I'm a twink, so isn't it more likely that if I meet another twink then they're probably going to want to be with a bear and not some slim, hairless guy like me who probably reminds them of themselves? After rinsing off the shower gel I had the great pleasure of washing my hair. My hair is the one thing about me that sort of defines who I am. I previously had long dirty fair hair that was shaggy. This coupled with my skinny jeans and t-shirt dress code had everyone pretty much calling me the "indie kid." A tag I soon got sick of. I don't know why but I've always hated people putting tags and labels on me. It kind of bugs me. This label however had been well and truly cut off and thrown in the bin. When I turned 17 (about a year and a half ago) I decided that I wanted a change and decided to dye my hair. Me being my typical less than mainstream self I decide to dye my hair red. Not entirely red. But I dyed most of it red and left my original dirty blonde hair in streaks. I also began to straighten my hair so it would become a little bit tamer. I wasn't a pretty boy, or even effeminate by any stretch of the imagination, growing up with two older brothers tends to make sure of that, but my hair is the one thing about my appearance that I actually cared about. Anyway, this conversion, as you can imagine, did not go unnoticed by my friends. The label hung around my neck for the next year and a half has been "emo". I didn't know exactly what an emo was at first and to be honest I still don't really know. Supposedly it's short for "emotional" and describes people who are always moping around. I rarely ever sulk but once my friends pointed out what emos look like and how they dress, I kind of saw their point but never admitted that to them. Hey, like I said, I don't like labels. After I finished washing my hair I turned off the shower and dried myself off. I didn't have my hair dryer of straighteners so I just towel dried my hair. The back of my hair was slightly shorter than the front which I kept long and heavy. At the crown of my head I usually kept my hair kind of messy. Today though, I'd just have to let it fall over my face. I slipped on the clean clothes, picked up my dirty boxers, and made my way back to my room to pick out a t-shirt to wear. Once back inside my room I realised just how big the job at hand was. The air inside the room seems thicker and closer in here than in the hall and the bathroom. I walk over to the window and open it up in a bid to let me, and the room, breathe. I then make my way over to my rucksack and after some rummaging I find my deodorant and a t-shirt. I spray myself, pull on a black and grey t-shirt and head to the kitchen to fix myself something to eat. I walked to the end of the hallway, past two doors on either side of the hallway which lead to my roommate rooms and take the second and last door on the left. You have to walk through the living room to get to the kitchen. It was kind of annoying I thought. Why didn't they plan the layout of this flat a bit better? I walk through the living room and into the kitchen. To my surprise I find Alex is already up and eating some cereal. "Hey, Whatsup?" I said "Nothing much, sleep well?" "Yeah, okay. The sheets on the bed were a bit...well, they're in need of a wash" I hesitantly replied. I knew he hadn't been in that room for some time and the last thing he needed was for me to move in and call him or his flat filthy. "Shit I forgot to give you clean sheets last night, sorry." "No probs, is there anything good for eating?" "Yeah there's some cereal on the top shelf and there's bowls in the cupboard to your left." I took a bowl and poured myself some cereal and added some milk. I walked over to Alex and sat down at the table opposite him. "Your flat is sweet Alex." "Thanks man, but it's your flat now as well," he replied This wasn't exactly true. This flat, unlike other student accommodation in the area, is owned by Alex. He previously worked for a mortgage company and managed to get himself this nice three bedroomed flat for a good price. The next year however he got accepted to university and the rent and bills were too much for him as he had to give up the job. It looked like he would have to give up the flat as well but instead decided to get a roommate who would help with the rent. Now he has two roommates and I'm pretty sure he's cool about it. He's always going on about not having much money so another guy around helping with the rent and bills should free up more cash for him. I hope it helps him out because he's a really great guy. I met him on my first day at university. He's studying aeronautical engineering too and he's just started second year, the same year as me. Having him in the same class as me is a real bonus. If I miss a lecture, chances are he has probably attended it and that means I can get a copy of the notes from him. Besides Alex though, I don't really know anybody else in my class. It would be a lie to say that me and Alex hit it off immediately. I'm pretty shy and Alex isn't the type of guy to go around talking non-stop. Eventually though, over the space of a few weeks, we became good friends. Good enough friends such that when I turned up at his door yesterday with my life in a rucksack and nowhere to sleep, he told me the spare room is mine and that I didn't have to pay rent until the 5th of every month. Today was the 25th of September so I had a few days until I had to get the money together. I looked across the table at Alex as he happily munched on his cereal. I stared at him in both wonder and disbelief. It wasn't just his flawless complexion, his nice-guy personality, or the fact that he was 6 feet odds tall and pretty well built that made him so appealing, it was his ability to remain un- phased by events and just stay his happy go lucky self all the time. Something I admired but could never quite understand. I gazed at him and his thick, light brown, curly hair. His hair looks like it's been permed but I know Alex too well to know that that's not the case. He prides himself on his low maintenance look and often gives me a hard time for my clean shaven face and straightened hair. His complexion is one of purity though with not a single freckle or spot in sight. This is covered however by his beard. It's not a beard as such, more like overgrown stubble, rough and patchy, but it definitely works for him. This coupled with his hair makes him look like he has the mane of a lion. I liked to assign most of my friends nicknames based on my distorted perceptions of them. Alex was known as the lion although he never knew I called him this. Only in my head. Your probably thinking that I've got some sort of crush or fantasy going on in my head about Alex. The truth is that I don't. Despite his good looks and great personality, the minute we met, we just set off down the path of friendship and not down the "more than friends" pathway. He is a friend and I don't have many of them at the moment. Not only that but good friends are hard to come by and while I wouldn't have said we were really close beforehand, him taking me in in my moment of need is definitely a sign that he's a good friend. I think the next few weeks for us will be the test of our friendship. Meeting someone every day at uni and then hanging out for a bit before going off your separate ways is different from spending most days and nights together. I just hope I don't annoy him too much. He's never really been exposed to my crazy side. "Something up?" He asks as he looks up and catches me staring at him "Nah, just daydreaming, you got any plans for today then?" Small talk, I hated small talk. It's not that I had anything against it per say, I just never actually paid attention when someone was making small talk. Even though it was me who asked the question, I could already feel myself start to drift off and think about how I was going to tackle cleaning that room. "What about you, you got any plans?" Shit, had he finished telling me about his plans already?!? I hadn't even heard a word he said. "I'm just gonna clean the room up a bit. Is it okay if I redecorate?" Alex looked at me questioningly for a few seconds before saying "Yeah, just so long as you don't paint it pink, I know what you lot are like," he said while chuckling. I looked down into my cereal while thinking of a way to change the subject of the conversation. I was gay and it was only in the past few days that anyone had found out. I didn't want to think about it. Alex didn't know I was gay and was just giving me a hard time but my brain started to go into overdrive. I started thinking about cleaning and decorating the room and wondering what the point in that was? If Alex found out I was gay and asked me to leave then I would have spent all that time and money fixing the room up only to move out. But I know Alex isn't a homophobe because he told me two of his close friends are gay. But living with someone who is gay is different from being friends with them. And then there's the other roommate. I haven't even met John yet. What if he's a homophobe? Would I have to move out if he was? Of course I would, he was here first and he's probably closer to Alex than me. "I was only joking you know, if you wanna paint it pink you can," he said half laughing trying to lighten the mood. He must have sensed that he had touched a nerve. Probably due to the fact that I didn't laugh and still hadn't replied. His eyes were boring a hole in the top of my head. I could feel them drilling right through me, searching, trying to find some sort of tell. I was afraid to look up from my cereal until I summoned some courage and did the only thing that I could. I looked up making sure that my hair was covering as much of my face as possible. "Alex, I don't really wanna go in to any details, and you've been kind enough not to ask me about why I'm here and why I came to your door in the middle of the night, but there's something you need to know. Alex, I'm gay." I looked at his face through my hair trying to get a read on how this was going to play out. I had no idea and a feeling of dread and anxiety washed over me. What if he asked me to leave? I have nowhere else to go. He just sat there blank and expressionless holding his spoon, still fully loaded with cereal and halfway to his mouth. He put the spoon and the cereal back in the bowl. "I don't care man, I kinda always suspected. I know I shouldn't stereotype but the amount of time you spend on your hair. And those skinny jeans you wear, could they be any tighter? Not to mention the amount of times we've been out clubbing and you've had girls clambering all over you. And also - " "Alright, Jesus Christ" I cut him off. "You'd think I was some sort of flamer the way you talk, and I've never had girls clambering all over me." We both chuckled "I know you're not a flamer, but you have had plenty of advances when we were out clubbing. Any other straight guy would have been all over some of those girls. I just thought you were picky." "I am, I just like them a little more masculine," I smiled. "So you don't mind that I'm gay?" "Nah, it'll take more than that to get me to kick you outta here. But for what it's worth, I'd really rather you didn't paint the room pink," he smirked. I gave him the finger but deep down I was relieved. Alex was the first person that I had told I was gay. Other people knew but that wasn't through my own choice. It felt pretty damn good to tell someone and have them accept me. "Do you think John will mind?" I asked remembering the other roommate. "About you painting the room pink?" "About me being gay?" I replied while giving Alex a smile. "Doubtful, his brother is gay, I'll introduce you sometime." "That's okay thanks. I'm gonna keep my head down for now. I've got enough things to be dealing with without throwing my roommates brother as a possible love interest into the mix." We both laughed just as the kitchen door opened up and in stepped who I assumed to be John. He, like Alex, was tall and pretty well built. He had short black hair, a pretty tanned complexion, and a sprinkling of stubble around his chin. His eyes were a nice shade of green although I didn't make eye contact for more than a second because I didn't want him looking into my eyes and thinking I was on drugs or something. He extended his hand towards me and beamed at me. "Hi, I'm John, You must be Jamie. Alex told me last night you were gonna be staying with us, pleased to meet you." "Nice to meet you too," I said as I shook his hand. He had a really firm grip and as he shook my hand I saw his bicep flex. He was no Arnold Schwarzenegger but he definitely had some nice definition. If I was going to stay with these guys I'd have to bulk up or otherwise suffer some sort of inferiority complex. I sat back down at the table to finish my cereal and Alex got up, put his bowl in the sink and walked out the door. John fixed himself some cereal and took Alex's place. I kept my head down and ate away at my cereal. There was an awkward silence in the air. Like I said, I'm not a huge fan of small talk but this was worse. "So, what are you studying at uni?" I asked him. "I'm studying Biology, I love to find out how nature works and how everything in it is related. I find it fascinating." Wow, really? I'm studying aeronautical engineering and this guy is doing biology. Talk about opposites. When at school, I did pretty much anything I could to get out of biology. Learning about plants and photosynthesis and all the rest of that crap bored the hell out of me. I much preferred learning about atoms and lasers and the big bang and stuff. It was my love for physics that made me want to be an engineer. "That's cool man," I lied. "Are you enjoying your course? What year are you in?" He started to say something at this point but I tuned out. Biology; that was all I needed to hear. I quickly devoured my cereal while making all the usual signs towards John that I was listening to his conversation. Nodding away and making the typical approving grunts here and there. Once he paused or finished (I'm not sure which) I stood up. "Cool, well I've gotta get this room cleaned up a bit, where do you guys keep the hoover?" John looked at me a little surprised by the sudden change in conversation. "It's in the cupboard behind you" he said while recovering himself and smiling slightly. "Thanks and where do you guys keep the clean sheets for bedding?" I asked as I retrieved the hoover from the cupboard. Just as I came out of the cupboard Alex came in holding a bunch of clean bedding. "Right here," he said while handing me the sheets and smiling broadly. "Thanks, well I'm gonna get cracking, see you guys later." I walked out of the kitchen with the sheets and the hoover. I know that I acted like a bit of a dick towards John back there but the truth is I've got other things on my mind at the moment. I opened my room door and to my surprise the air in the room was much less dense. I lifted up the duvet and sat the clean sheets down. I stripped the bed and turned the mattress over. I set about vacuuming the room and pretty much everything in it. I used an extension pole to clean the cupboard and drawers and the bedside cabinet. After a few hours the room seemed somewhat cleansed. I put the clean sheets on the bed and then sat down. I began to make a mental note of the things I was going to need for the room. A desk chair, an alarm clock, some more storage for my clothes. As I was making this list my mind couldn't help but wander and of course I began to think that I have all this stuff at home. It had been 2 days since I was thrown out of my home. Being gay in my family was something that was spoken about more often than I would have liked. "I'll disown any of you if you come in and tell me you're gay," My father would say to me and my brothers. "I can never understand it and I just think it's perverse," My mum would say. I always thought that they were a bit narrow minded but that they would come around when I came out. I guess not. I have 2 older brothers and we often share our stuff, it's just the way we were raised. My pc however, was something I didn't like sharing. I wasn't dumb enough to save any gay porn on my pc; I just streamed it and deleted my internet history afterwards. One day though I left my pc on and didn't delete my history. My dad opened up my internet browser to read his emails and aloe and behold he finds the freeking Argos catalogue of gay porn. A hyperlink to just about every gay twink website ever to have existed appeared in my internet history. He only had to pick one to figure out my secret, and he did. When I got home from university registration my mum, dad and 2 brothers were sitting at the table waiting for me. They asked me to sit down. It was like some sort of intervention. I thought someone had died! "Jamie, I think we've got something to talk about," my dad began. "I used your computer this afternoon to look at my emails from work and I saw some websites that were on your computer." Fear hit me like a train. Adrenaline horsed through my veins as the realisation that my darkest secret had been revealed. My legs went numb and my heart began beating hard in my chest. I could feel each and every pulse of blood flowing through my body. I could practically hear the blood as it flowed to my head past my ears. I had not prepared for this. There was nothing I could do, nothing to say. There was no way out. I looked across at my mum and she had a look of confusion on her face. The thought of my mum looking at the websites only made me feel worse. I looked back at my dad. "Do you know which websites I'm talking about Jamie?" What a stupid fucking question, of course I knew which websites. Why the fuck would be having a family meeting if you had discovered that I was on Ebay earlier today? "Yeah," I croaked. My voice sounded a shadow of its normal self. "Well?" My dad countered. "Well, what?" I replied trying to buy some time to think of what to say. I had nothing at the moment. "Are you...gay?" He faltered just before spitting the last word out. I hadn't actually expected him to come straight out and ask me. I didn't know what to do. Should I lie and say I was just experimenting. Does anyone ever believe that crap? Maybe I should just tell them I'm Bisexual. They might go easy on me then. I toyed with a few ideas before I settled on telling them the one thing I knew they dreaded hearing as much as I dreaded saying. "Yeah, I'm gay." Chaos ensued. My dad was going nuts screaming about how me going to university had made me into some sort of poof. I had gotten a tattoo earlier in the year, a star on my right elbow. He said I wouldn't have gotten it had I not been at uni. Now he was blaming me being gay on my going to university. Unbelievable! Soon I was screaming back at him calling him all the ignorant bastards under the sun. I could see he was livid but I never thought he'd get violent. He threw a right hook and if it wasn't for me being pretty quick on my feet I would probably have caught it straight on the chin. But I had enough time to move slightly to the right and he sort of hit me on the side of the head. I fell over and then my two brothers restrained my dad. He was still screaming a verbal volley of insults at me but I quickly got to my feet and looked at my mum. She stared back at me with a look of not just confusion, but hurt. I knew she was having to choose. There was no way my dad could stay in the same house as me. She knew it, and I knew it. "GET THE FUCK OUT MY HOUSE!" my dad was screaming at me while my brothers continued to restrain him. I looked at my mum mentally pleading with her to ask me to stay. After what felt like forever it became clear that she had made her choice. I ran up to my room, grabbed my rucksack from under my bed and began throwing clothes and toiletries into it. I grabbed my mobile phone, my charger, my keys, my wallet and I took off down the stairs. My mum was standing in the hallway in tears. My two brothers were standing behind her with my dad nowhere to be seen. He must still be in the kitchen. I looked back. I knew my mum and dad were narrow minded, but I thought my brothers would be okay with it. I looked at Graeme, the eldest of me and my two brothers. "Just go Jamie," He said. His words stung me like nothing else I'd ever experienced in my life. I turned and walked out the door doing my utmost to stop myself from crying. I couldn't believe they had exploded like that. My dad screaming like some sort of raving lunatic. I've never seen him so angry before. I always thought he was just exaggerating when he said he would disown us. I just thought he was being the alpha male. I never believed that those were his true beliefs. The whole scenario was playing out in my head again and again as I walked down the street. My brothers' words still ringing in my ears. I fought back tears. My brothers had picked their side. They had chosen to stay with my dad and decided that my being gay was not acceptable. I opened the gate to my friend's house and walked up to his door. I rang the bell and he answered the door quickly. Peter had been my oldest friend. We had done everything together since nursery. He was slightly taller than me. He had long, dark brown hair that was slightly fuzzy. He was a ghostly white figure and had large purple bags under his eyes. He looked like he had been up all night. Not an uncommon look for him as he seemed to have some sort of addiction to caffeine drinks. Not coffee though. I always found that strange. I had nicknamed him Tweak due to this strange addiction. "You can't stay here." He said in a deep voice very unlike his own. "What? How did you know I was gonna ask you that?" I took a step back surprised and worried at what I had just heard. "Your dad called your aunt, she told Paula and Paula has told me not to let you stay here." Paula is my cousin, but she's also Peter's girlfriend. "You're not letting me stay with you because your girlfriend says that I can't, you don't even live together!" I fumed. "Did she even tell you why I've been thrown out?" I really wanted to know the answer to this question. I wasn't sure who my mum and dad had told already. I thought they'd want to keep this a secret. "She said it's because you're gay," I looked up at his face. He was the one person in this world I thought I could turn to. Who I knew I could turn to. And here he was, standing in front of me, turning me away. "And you agree with her?" I spat "Look Jamie, it's family trouble, I know better than to get involved in matters involving family." "Involving family?" I parroted with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. "They've thrown me out my house for fucks sake! My brothers had to restrain my dad from kicking my ass! You're the one person I thought I could turn to, but it appears you're too busy worrying about whether or not my cousin is gonna let you fuck her to give a shit about anyone else." I knew I had crossed a line. But I also knew I was right. Peter loved my cousin. They may only have been 18 years old but Graeme and my cousin were already marriage material. He would do anything for her. As her cousin it was something I wanted her to find in a boyfriend. But at this moment the commitment to her felt like nothing short of an absolute betrayal to me. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Fuck you." I turned and walked down the garden path. Again I was choking back tears. I had laid myself on the line to my best friend and to my family and both had turned me away. I didn't know where else to turn? The only thing I could do was start calling my friends. I started with the people I knew best but every time I called they had some excuse. Some said they were "busy" or "staying with their gran at the moment" or they had some other bullshit excuse. I knew they had heard I was gay and I also knew no one wanted to be the guy who spent a night with the rampant homosexual who apparently couldn't control himself and would rape them at any given moment. Ignorant bastards! I walked into town. It was a long walk; it took me nearly two hours. I walked to a motel and checked in for one night. The motel I had chosen though seemed to be the only one in this god forsaken city were people could come and go at any hour of the night with no porter or watchmen. There were a few drunk guys in the lobby who spent most of the night just sitting there drinking. I didn't get much sleep that night. I had to go to uni the following day to finalise my registration. I met Alex and he said I looked like shit. I was a walking zombie at that moment and hardly paid any attention to what Alex was saying to me. After finalising my registration I returned to my motel and picked up my stuff. I went to the young girl behind the reception desk and gave her my room number, my key and asked for the bill. "One hundred and thirty five pounds?!? How is that even possible, I only stayed one night?" "Yes sir but you stayed in a double room." "But it had a single bed," I reasoned. "That's because you said you only needed a room for one, so we removed the other single bed." I couldn't believe what she was saying. I knew it was a lie. I knew she was talking crap but what could I do. There were a few other people in the lobby who were looking at me; I had created a bit of a scene. "Fine," I murmured and paid the bill using my credit card. I stepped outside and began to walk aimlessly. œ135 was extortionate for one night in a motel. I had a little bit of money saved, almost one hundred and twenty pounds. Not enough to pay the bill and that's why I had to use my credit card. I came from a family were we didn't have much. At uni, I was forever being looked down upon for being poor. Or at least I felt I was. Before going to uni, my lack of money didn't bother me. When growing up, me and all my friends were pretty poor, money wasn't something we ever had or even bothered about. But uni was a different story. The university campus was situated on the West side of town. This is where all the rich people lived. Bentleys, Aston Martins, Porsches and even Rolls Royce's could be spotted driving around. There were times when my dad would drive me to uni and we would pull up beside a Porsche 911 with me stepping out of a banged up Vauxhall cavalier. I don't think they even make those anymore. It didn't bother me at first, but after I got some stares and a few not so quiet comments were made behind my back, I became very self-conscious. I walked into the city centre and sat down on a bench. It began to rain. I had nowhere to go. No one to turn to. I sat there and let the rain wash over me. I sat for hours reliving every detail of what happened at my house. I was soaked through, it was nearly ten o'clock, and I had barely eaten anything all day. Night had settled in around me. I thought about going to another motel but I only had the œ120 in my bank account. I was sure my credit card was maxed out now. I was pretty much broke. It was as soon as this thought popped into my head that I thought of Alex. He was always broke and going on about getting another roommate to help free up some of cash. I took my phone out of my pocket. The battery was dead, typical. It was about an hour's walk to Alex's flat and if he said I couldn't stay then I would be a good bit away from the city centre with no chance of finding a motel. I thought about my options but the truth was I only had one. I couldn't go to another motel for them to charge me œ135. I just didn't have that kind of money. I walked to Alex's house and rapped on his door. It was a little before midnight. I hoped he was still awake. Thankfully he answered the door. He must have taken pity on me because he just took one look at me. "Come on in," he said. He handed me a towel and I explained that I was having some troubles at home and that I needed a place to crash. He offered me the spare room for as long as I wanted it and told me when the rent and bills were due. I felt guilty for not telling him my secret. For not telling him I was gay and that's why I'd been kicked out. I lived my life believing in honesty. I believed it was the single most important thing about a person. How honest they were. A bit ironic for a guy who's been lying to his friends and family for 18 and a half years pretending to be straight but besides that, I practically never lied and absolutely detested it when I thought someone was lying to me. I took it personally. It was as if they thought I was stupid and they could get away with fooling me. Tonight though, I was desperate and needed a place to sleep. So I would figure out what to tell Alex tomorrow. Not exactly a lie, just an omission. "And that's how I came to be here," I said aloud to myself as I snapped back to reality. I had thought about what had happened over the past few days. I had thought about all the pain my family and so called friends had caused me. I thought about the hatred my father showed, the betrayal by my brothers, my mum and my best friend. I thought about the lies and deceit of my friends because they didn't want me to stay with them. I thought about the faces of my family, about the last words my brother uttered to me, "Jamie, just go." The words haunted me. But no more. No more would they plague my every step. No more would I lie to people just to become socially accepted. I am gay, and there isn't a damn thing me or anybody else can do about it. And if that means that I can never go back to my home and be with my family, then so be it. They made it this way, not me. To Be Continued? Like I said I know where I want to take the story, I'm just waiting to see if it's worth doing so. Send any feedback to: kyro3@hotmail.co.uk I Hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading!!!