Monday, 5 July 2010
09:07:52 PM (GMT)
It was the late afternoon and I was in the bathroom, showering. The second
task I did when arriving here after having that little conversation with Simone. I
was too caught up in my thoughts to hear that the bathroom door opened and closed nor
did I hear the soft shuffling of footsteps until I felt another presence with me.
He rested his chin on the nook of my neck and planted a gentle kiss on my neck; he
wrapped his arms around my abdomen.
“Were we actually making love?” He asked curiously.
“Well, what do you think? It wasn’t just sex.” I replied harshly.
“I’m sorry because the first time we actually made love was when you were really
pissed off and full of envy when you caught me with another guy.” He started with a
hint of sadness in his voice.
“You practically made me cry while you were just enjoying taking my virginity. And
you looked like some bloodthirsty monster.”
“Oh, so you’re going back to that very night? Just to let you know, that was our
honeymoon night and you decided to go fuck with the bellboy at that goddamn hotel.”
I explained harshly.
I felt him move away from me and I turned around to see that there was anger and
regret burning in his eyes. He just shook his head then got out of the shower,
wrapping a towel around his waist.
“And I remember the first day I saw you, I knew that I shouldn’t fall in love
with younger men. Since they’re always wanna argue about anything.” He scoffed.
“Oh yeah, I forgot that I‘m the one who‘s being irresponsible and that I should
grow up a little.” I replied, turning the water off.
We always got in an argument that usually brought up our age differences, me being
twenty five years old and my birthday coming up in two more weeks. And him being
thirty two years old, still a young man with his whole entire life ahead of him. Yet,
he decided to marry me and put everything behind him just for me and now, here we are
arguing about being faithful and our differences.
“Do you really expect me to be just like you? Maybe you‘re the one who needs the
maturing instead of acting like a teenager.” He retorted, staring at me.
“That’s just funny, Simone. You know what, I should‘ve just went to a whole
‘nother country just to be sure that I‘m away from this hellhole.” I scoffed,
wrapping a towel around my waist and getting out of the shower.
He just rolled his eyes and walked out of the bathroom which simmered our argument
again. I just jeered at him as I watched him walked down the hall towards our
bedroom; I left the bathroom and went straight to the kitchen to get a snack. We live
in an apartment that’s settled in a quiet neighborhood in San Francisco, which is
quite ironic for a homosexual couple to live at but it was Simone’s idea to move
I took an apple out of the fruit bowl and began to take a bite out of it when I
turned around to see Brendan sitting in a chair with dark sunglasses on. He was
smirking, not even bothering to take off those sunglasses even though he was indoors.
Brendan Adel was a German immigrant who came to America when he was about fourteen
years old; we met in New York when I was still a young boy. He was more sane than
Simone was but he isn’t afraid to bite someone’s ear off nor scared to bludgeon
someone to death.
“I heard that little argument that you two were having. Why are you so tough on
him?” He stated, that little smirk of his turning into a wryly smile.
“I’m not being tough on him. Maybe if you get married, you’ll realize that
it’s a normal thing for couples to do.” I explained, taking another bite of the
Brendan had dyed iguana green hair that was short and spiky, a sun kissed tan, ice
blue eyes, six foot three, a lean and muscular structure somewhat like Simone‘s. He
was six years older than me but yet, men and women still swooned over him.
“If only I was married but too bad it seems too much of a hassle. Like taking care
of a two year old.” He chuckled, standing up.
He walked up to me and took the apple out of my hand, taking a huge chunk out of it.
He munched on it slowly while watching me carefully and slowly; I knew instantly that
there was something wrong and I needed to find out.
“So, does he know what you did when you were away?” He asked, after swallowing
the apple chunk.
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling a lump grow in my throat.
He pinned me up against the kitchen counter with a grim smile and bent down a little
to meet my eye level. I can smell a mixture of apple, tobacco, and alcohol in his
breathe which made me flinch, a jeer came out of him.
“You know exactly what I mean, Cyril. God, look at you trying to act like Mr. Macho
but really, you are weak and defenseless. No wonder older men seem to prey on you a
lot.” He explained, cupping my jaw with one hand.
He was right, I was always bullied in school cause I was this scrawny Russian boy
with fair skin and feminine features but yet, I finally realized that I was getting
tired of everyone choosing me as the victim. And I was definitely tired of being
everyone’s pet. I felt a sharp sting creeping on my neck and I looked down to see
that Brendan left his mark on my neck, just like how the others did; I glowered and
pushed him away.
“I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong to anyone.” I retorted, my fists
“I wouldn’t say that Cyril, not to the person who practically took away your
innocence.” He replied, grinning.
“Just go away, Brendan. Why are you even here?” I muttered.
“To visit you of course. Seeing your gorge-” He was cut off when Simone walked
into the kitchen.
Simone looked at me then at Brendan which gave him an angry expression on his face.
Brendan moved away from me and walked towards Simone, taking caution with each step.
“So, whats going on, Brendan?” Simone asked, looking at me.
“Nothing, just talking with Cyril.” He replied, smirking.
“I think I warned you about being around him. Next time, if I see you around him or
even touching him, you can say goodbye to one of your precious hands.” Simone
threatened, wiping the smirk off of Brendan’s face.
“Tch, he ran back to me after you scared him away from here. I think I have the
right to visit my pet every now and then.” He retorted, taking off his sunglasses.
I shivered at that word, ‘pet’, that’s all they refer me to. It’s always
comes down to my ‘property’ or my ‘pet’ whenever they get into arguments like
this; I got sick of it and left the kitchen, not bothering to look back to see their
questioning looks on their faces.
I went to the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Flopping down on the bed, I
pulled the towel right off of me and tossed it to the floor; a sigh escaped my lips
as I covered myself with a blanket and fell asleep with the words ‘pet’ and
‘property spun in my head.
Last edited: 6 July 2010