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Old April 17th, 2007, 11:06 PM
Thicker is Best
 
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An American Muscleman in London - Part 8

The First Full Moon - Continued

At the same time as I jumped, I heard Martin’s voice say, “Fancy meeting you here, stranger.”

I even let out a little scream and when I turned around I could tell that Martin was quite shocked. He said, “I am so sorry, Anthony. I did not mean to frighten you. Please forgive me.”

“No, that’s fine, Martin. I’m sorry I jumped. It’s just that I had seen something that put me on edge and I didn’t see you coming,” I explained quickly.

“What has put you on edge, my dear boy?” Martin asked.

I explained to him the entire episode at the airport with Atol and the fact that I had seen the man again, just now, outside the pub. Martin had a serious look on his face and asked, “And what did this Atol look like, Anthony?”

“Like the giant Jack met climbing up the beanstalk,” I said laughing, but noticed that Martin didn’t even smile. “I’m serious, Martin. He was the tallest guy I’ve ever seen. His hands were this big.” And I held up my two hands with a large space in between them - emphasizing the size of Atol’s hands.

Martins’ face turned more serious and I could have sworn he said something under his breath that sounded like, “So, they know you are here.” As he whispered this he glanced out the window.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“Oh, Anthony,” Martin said returning his gaze to me, “I said I could use a beer.” And a smile returned to his face. At that moment a hot guy walked up to us with two beers.

Mr. hotness said, “Here you go, Martin,” and handed one beer to my friend. Wow, if just by saying something Martin could get an answer that fast and delivered by someone so cute, I must remember to get him to request a boyfriend for me.

“Oh, thank you, my dear,” Martin said. “Anthony, this is my driver and my friend, John. Remember, I told you about him? He’s the one who will be picking you up Thursday evening for my dinner party. John, this is Anthony.”

“Cheers, Anthony,” John said extending a hand, “I’ve heard so much about you.” He had a very hearty grip, I noticed, as I shook hands.

“Cheers, John,” I said in return. I smiled as I took in John’s appealing looks. He looked to be a couple of years older than me – maybe twenty-six or twenty-seven. He had a jock’s face – the bone structure was very masculine and it was obvious that he had little body fat. He had a high forehead, cheeks slightly sunken and dimpled, and a broad handsome nose. His eyes were dark brown and he had long wavy brown hair. He reminded me of what you might call an “all Englishman Guy” – kind of like the British version of an “All American Guy.” I wonder if such a term existed here? He was taller than me; broad shouldered, and wore a white button-down shirt and khakis. The shirt was unbuttoned at the top and I could see that his chest was covered in a soft dark hair that seemed to automatically invite hands to roam through it. John was the definition of a young furry-bear stud. I was beginning to think that every man I was going to meet in London came from the same muscle stud factory. Everyone I had met, except for Martin, and, I guess you could say, Atol, were so similar. It was like they could all be brothers or something.

Martin’s voice caused me to turn from taking in John’s hairy beauty and re-focus. “Anthony was just telling me about a man that approached him at the airport – and seemed dangerous. The same guy appeared across the street this afternoon and it felt like he was looking straight at Anthony through the window. Anthony thinks the guy may be stalking him.” As Martin said this I noticed that he looked at John with a very specific – concerned - look. It was as if they were sending each other a special message.

“Right, then,” John said glancing out the window. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Anthony. I’m sure it is just a coincidence. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about. The guy probably just happened to be on this side of town and you saw him.”

“You are not worried, are you Anthony?” Martin asked. “If you are then maybe we should do something. We might report it to the police or something like that. Shall we?”

“No, Martin. I don’t think that is necessary,” I said beginning to see how stupid the whole situation seemed. “It is probably, as John said, just a coincidence. Anyway, if it is more than that, I believe we would need more evidence to take it to the police. I’m not worried – it just freaked me out. Maybe because I am here in London by myself.”

“But you are not alone, my boy, you have us!” Martin exclaimed laying his hand on mine. And I did feel more secure knowing I had Martin (and John, I guess) as friends. “Well, then. Here’s to our health.” Martin raised his glass. John and I brought our glasses to his and said, “Cheers,” at the same time. Everyone laughed. Martin continued, “Anthony, I do hope you are planning to stay here this evening for Trivia Quiz Night. John and I would love to have you on our team. You can help us if there are questions about America.”

“I don’t know anything about quiz night, Martin,” I said.

John replied, “You see, there are teams and they compete against each other in a trivia quiz. The quiz appears up on the screens around the room and teams use remote boxes to answer.” John pointed to screens around the room. “It really is quite fun and people really get into it. People have been coming here forever on Tuesday nights to play.”

“It sounds like a blast. I’d love to join you guys,” I said.

“Splendid,” Martin said beaming happily. And then he turned to John, “See, did I not tell you Anthony, here, was a lot of fun? And did I not tell you that he is a perfect match for Manfred.” My curiosity was hard to hide.

“Now, Martin,” John said, “Stop being a matchmaker. Leave the poor boy alone.”

“John, that does not answer my question,” Martin persisted. “Do you not think he would be perfect for our good friend, Manfred.”

“Yes, I do, but that does not mean we have the right to interfere, Martin,” John said, turning to me and making a face that signified hopelessness.

“I am not interfering. I am just assisting. Anthony, we have a dear friend that we think you will adore and vice-versa. As a matter of fact, he will be at my house for dinner on Thursday night – when you come.” And Martin had a look on his face that showed he was quite happy with himself.

I didn’t want to seem as desperate as I really was to meet someone that I could potentially date, so I said casually, “Is that right? It would be great to make a new friend. What’s Manfred like?”

Martin hardly let me finish before he quickly said, “Anthony, he is wonderful. Just like you. He is handsome, funny, a little on the wild side (I noted that for future questions), and a king of a man!”

“Well, that sounds a little too good to be true. I think I’ll get John’s opinion. I believe it might be a little more realistic,” I smiled and turned to John.

“Okay, I will share – but let it be known that I was not part of this idea. Seriously, Manfred is a great guy. He grew up in Germany, but his family is from England. They go back here for many years – too many to count. He is more English than me. Apparently, his family is quite wealthy and he is in line to inherit everything. They have a huge estate somewhere in the Cotswold’s. He is an only child – and probably a little spoiled, but he is so cute and fun that you do not notice. He definitely likes guys from the States. I have never met anyone he has dated, so I do not know his exact type. Have you, Martin? Met anyone he has dated?”

“Right. Now I get to speak,” Martin said mockingly. “I am only kidding gentleman. No, I have not met anyone Manfred has dated. He is very secretive about his gentleman friends. I do know, however, that he is not seeing anyone at the moment. He told me that a few days ago when we spoke. He is usually quite busy – maybe dating – so I was extremely happy he had Thursday night free. I took the liberty to tell him all about you, Anthony.”

That made me a little nervous for some reason. “Well, I look forward to meeting him. It will be great to meet some more people. I’ve already met great friends, though.” I made sure they both knew I meant them. “I look forward to Thursday night.”

“Here, here,” Martin said finishing his drink. “Shall we step down the block to get something quick to eat and return in time for Quiz Night?” John and I agreed. The three of us went to a small Thai restaurant near the pub and had a quick dinner. We returned to the pub and I was amazed at how crowded it was. We were able to secure a small table for the three of us and went on to lose every game of trivia we played that night. I was no help at all because I knew nothing about British trivia. I helped on a few questions that involved the United States, but it was not enough to help us win. I had a few too many beers and stumbled back to my flat around 11:30pm. It had been a great night.

*****

On Wednesday morning I woke up around eight. I felt slightly hung over, but my body was, again, on fire with energy and power. I went for another long run along the Thames. When I returned to the flat I called my future place of employment to check in. They asked if I might come in for a few hours to take care of paperwork for Human Resources in advance. Since I had no plans for the day (except to get a Tube pass), I agreed. That afternoon, around one, I went to my future office. It was a large building near the British Museum. It was in a beautiful neighborhood that made you believe all the buildings were homes – and not offices. I even walked by the place that Virginia Woolf lived for a while. There was a plaque commemorating the place. At the office, I only met one of the consultants for our Human Resources department. I took care of a lot of paperwork and then left. I looked forward to starting work, but I was also having a lot of fun getting to know the city. Work could wait, I thought.

I walked over to the British Museum and spent a few hours skimming through the place. I knew right away that a person could spend every day for a year in the exhibits and not see everything. I would be returning here many times. I was drawn to some areas that spoke of England in the time of knights and crusades. I guess it was my love of Camelot that drew me to these areas. After a while, everything started running together in my mind and I took that as the time for me to leave. I stopped by a little place near my flat for tea and scones. I knew that I was going to fall in love with the habit of “afternoon tea.” It sounded sophisticated and was a great way to take a break in the middle of your day. As I was having tea, storm clouds began to gather and, for the first time since I had arrived, it rained in London. I took my time – waiting to see if the rain would stop. When I could tell there was no let-up in sight, I started for home – trying to run from overhang to overhang or canopy to canopy on the outside of buildings. My best efforts did not prevent me from getting pretty soaked. I dashed into the Charing Cross Tube Station and bought my annual rail pass. This was going to be great. I would be able to take the Tube any time I wanted and save a lot of money.

The rain was coming down pretty hard when I arrived at my building. I knew this would be a night at home. I wanted to get some dry clothes on, eat a little dinner, and curl up reading a book or watching television. I also wanted the dinner party at Martin’s place to arrive quickly. I was so excited about two things – seeing a new part of London (as well as Martin’s flat) and meeting Manfred. In spite of my best efforts at not getting my hopes up, I had started daydreaming of what a relationship with him would be like. And I hadn’t even met the man. How crazy was that!

Sitting on my sofa watching television proved to be just what I needed that night. I was relaxed and beginning to feel as if the place were truly my home. My attention left the television at one point and landed on Lancelot’s glove above my fireplace. I got up and went to bring it back to where I was sitting. I began to look at it closer and noticed that there were many scratches and dents in the armor. It was easy to fantasize that they had come from battles and doing great deeds. I was moving different parts of the glove when something I did made a little compartment in the back of the glove to open up. It was a small secret hiding place. How neat, I thought immediately – then I noticed a small piece of paper stuffed into the compartment. I pulled it out slowly. The paper was obviously pretty old and a little delicate. I unfolded the sheet and saw, hand written, the following:

“dehs aelnus rewopthgin dimno omllufer aweb”

It seemed to be just gibberish. Or maybe it was some ancient English script. Who knew? I thought I might take it to the British Museum with me one day to see if I could find out what it meant. I was actually amazed to see that the paper was not as fragile as I had thought at first and maybe not as old. I put the glove back and took the paper with me as I began to prepare for sleep. I kept glancing at the sheet thinking I would be able to figure out what it said. I decided to put it at the corner of my mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink in my bathroom. I could slide it down into the metal rim around the mirror and keep it secure. This way, I could look at it each day and see if I could crack the code – my mind had already made this into a game or some sort of intrigue that I was going to solve. I glanced at it one last time, thought to myself it might only be letters that mean nothing, turned out the light and went to sleep.

*****

I woke up early on Thursday morning. Light was just starting to appear outside. I was, again, fully alert and full of energy. The drive and power in me seemed to be more today than ever. I am sure it was because I had gotten a great night’s sleep and didn’t fill myself up with Stella Artois. I decided to go for my run even though it was very early. I contemplated going to Mark’s Body Shop and using the treadmill – and, of course, hoping to get a glimpse of him (and his cute ass) – but decided that I really loved running outside. It was such a great way to get to know the city. I decided to go and run through Hyde Park. By the time I made it to the park the sun would be fully up and I would feel safe – even with it being so early.

When I made it to the park I was amazed at the number of runners who chose the same place. There were many people exercising in the park. I should have guessed that would be the case. I chose carefully which route I would run so I would be able to retrace my steps easily. I did not want to get lost in the middle of the park. I think it would be quite simple to find your way out, but my ignorance of the city might make it hard for me to determine where I was when I stepped back into a neighborhood.

I was near the stream that runs through the park when I heard a voice, again, say, “He is the one. He is the one.” It was loud and clear – just as it had been in the pub. I stopped and looked around. There was no one near me. I saw a couple running along the path but they were about fifty feet behind me. Suddenly, my body began to get uneasy as it had in the pub on Tuesday. It was the same feeling I had right before I saw Atol. I instinctively went into a crouching, “ready-for-action,” stance. I immediately recognized the move from my dream a few nights back. I listened closely and heard footsteps coming towards me around a large group of bushes along the path. Someone was about to step onto the path. I was prepared.

Right then a man stepped onto the path from a gap in the bushes with a rolled up blanket, a battered bag over his shoulder and a boom box under his arms. My body immediately relaxed and I stood up – not wanting the man to be alarmed by my stance. Music began to play from the box under his arms. It was a song with a driving dance beat. There was a voice rapping over the beat. The guy would not look at me and just walked by. He was obviously embarrassed that he had been seen coming from the place where he slept. I laughed to myself because a song had again, fooled me. The voice I had heard was obviously the singer (if you could call it singing) in the song. I made a note to ask John and Martin if they knew a song called “He is the one.”

As I began to run again I got an intense feeling that someone was still watching me. I forced myself to push the thought from my mind and at that moment the couple had caught up with me - so I let them pass. I was, somehow, more comfortable running near them. At the mid-pointof my run I finally turned around and headed for home.

I spent most of the rest of that day shopping. I had not forgotten what Martin had said about my clothes the first time we had met in the pub. I had vowed that day that I would buy some clothes in London – especially some clothes for work. I noticed men clothing in the pub who were stopping by on their way home from work. Most businessmen wore shirts with cufflinks. It seemed to be the fad in London – or maybe it had always been that way. I also noticed that dress shirts tended to be a little more colorful than they were in Houston and stripes were certainly the “in thing” this year. I went to the area of town that was known for buying men’s shirts – Jermyn Street. I could see why – the clothes were fantastic, but the prices were too. I bought a couple of shirts and ties. I then went to a store on the way home for some shorts. I wanted to have the appropriate length – so I might look like I was from London.

I decided to wear one of my new shirts to Martin’s place that night. When I returned home it was around three. I decided to have a quick pint or two at “Halfway” and then come back to my flat to get ready for the dinner party. I found Dominic at work behind the bar when I arrived at the pub. We chatted a little, I had a beer, and then I left to prepare for the evening.

John arrived at my flat promptly at seven. I grabbed my backpack after he buzzed and met him downstairs. As we drove towards Hampstead he pointed out different parts of the city that might interest me. It reminded me of the first day I arrived and I rode with Matt from the airport. Matt did the same thing. I marveled at how much Matt and John reminded me a lot of each other. Upon entering the area called Hampstead I could immediately tell that it was a beautiful part of London – and an area where there were people with a lot of money. There were some great houses and some fantastic apartment buildings in this area. We turned up a beautiful street that had trees reaching across the road to make a canopy. Halfway up the street John turned into the driveway of a huge building sitting far off the road. It was a great building that seemed to have a lot of room for many flats. I tried to guess which set of windows were Martin’s flat.

“How many flats are in Martin’s building, John?” I asked turning to him.

“Oh, this is a house, Anthony. It is Martin’s house,” he replied stopping the car in the driveway.

“What?” I asked. “This huge place is one house?”

“I am afraid so. You see, Anthony, Martin is quite wealthy.” And with that John opened his door and stepped out of the car.

As I stepped out of the car I was overwhelmed at the beautiful gothic architecture of the place. No, it wasn’t exactly gothic – it was more like a medieval castle – yes, I landed on the word – it was like a castle. There were many towers and what looked like a beautiful courtyard in the back - that was surrounded on three sides by the house. I’m sure we didn’t drive around to the back because Martin wanted me to experience entering his home through the front door. And at that moment the huge front doors opened and out stepped the host, himself.

“Anthony, dear,” he said loudly, “ welcome to mi casa!”

“And what a casa it is, Martin,” I said smiling at him. “It is beautiful.” When I was a few feet in front of Martin he stepped forward and threw his arms around me in a big hug. I was caught off guard by this unusual display of affection – I knew it wasn’t exactly the British way.

“I am so glad you are finally here, Anthony,” Martin said squeezing me tightly. “I never thought this day would come.” It seemed that Martin might burst into tears. I was taken aback, a little.

“Well, Martin, it’s only been since Monday that you invited me. Not that long, really. There’s no need to make it a bigger deal than it is,” I added jokingly.

And Martin continued to hold me in a tight hug. It was almost long enough to make me uncomfortable, but then he let go, stepped back, and said, “Do come inside Anthony, do come inside.”

I stepped into the house and was immediately in awe of the foyer. It was simply astounding. There was a huge staircase straight ahead from the door that went half way up to a large landing. From that landing two staircases went to the second floor – one to the right and one to the left. There was a balcony that wrapped around the room on either side from the second floor and I could tell the house went on forever in both directions. There was obviously a east and west wing to the house. In the middle of the landing was a picture that stood at least fifteen feet high and ten feet wide. It was an incredible portrait of two knights – each sitting on horseback beside each other. It was a full-length view of both men, both horses, and a beautiful castle in the background. The knights were not in armor, but appeared in what looked like royal garments. I was quickly drawn to the faces of the two young men. They were simply beautiful. One looked very familiar. I was thinking I really knew the face and then it hit like a ton of bricks – It looked a little like me. I could see some of the same facial features in the face of the knight that I saw every time I looked in a mirror. My features were not as striking as the knight’s and I realized that was mainly because of the bigger build on the guy. Since the guy was obviously more muscular than me - it impacted what the face looked like. I would have described it as a “muscled-up Anthony.” It was unbelievable. And the other face was stunning. There was no other way to describe the second rider. He seemed almost too beautiful to be a man. Although the second rider was smaller than the first you could still see that he was also well built. Even in the royal outfit he was wearing you could tell. A crown sat on top of the second rider’s head.

“Ah, I see you are admiring Arthur and Lancelot.” Martin said looking from me to the painting.

“It is an incredible painting Martin. I hope you two don’t think this strange or stupid,” I said looking first at Martin and then at John, “but the guy on the right reminds me of myself a little. I’m not that handsome or built but it seems we have some of the same facial features.”

Martin and John looked at each other quickly and then looked at the picture. “Yes, I can see that – a little,” Martin said. “That is very odd.”

“Now that you mention it, Anthony, I see it, too,” John added in agreement.

“Well come meet the gang and get yourself a drink. Red or white wine, Anthony?” Martin asked as he led me into a large room to the left. The room must have been what people call a sitting room or parlor. It was huge, full of books, decorated with large tapestries, had very little - but large furniture, and many elaborate decorations. This was obviously a room that was used for entertaining. There was a large fireplace in the center of the far wall. Around the burning fire sat a small group of people. I saw a guy standing next to the fireplace, two people sitting on a large sofa directly across from the fire, and an arm and legs sticking out from a large wing back chair facing the fire. There was another wing back chair on the other side of the sofa. This must have been where Martin was sitting. I quickly glanced at the tapestries as we walked toward the group. They all had artwork depicting knights in battles. They were amazing. The room was a little dark so I could not see all the details in the artwork.

“Gentleman, let me introduce you to my new best “old” friend, Anthony,” Martin said as he grabbed me by the arm and let me to the area where they were sitting. The three men sitting immediately stood up and the guy leaning against the mantle above the fireplace straightened up. I wanted to acknowledge each person, but as soon as I saw the guy that had been sitting in the chair, with his back towards me, I became lost in his beauty. Nothing else in the room mattered. Nothing else in the room moved. I could only hear my heart pumping blood through my body at a quickened pace. I, at once, knew he was Manfred – Martin’s friend. I was as sure of this as I was sure of recognizing my own face in a mirror. He had piercing sky-blue eyes that sparkled even through his delicate wire-rimmed glasses. He had light brown hair that seemed both perfectly styled and casually tossed at the same time. It was a little longer than what I thought the style was – but then this was a man that probably set styles. He was a few inches taller than me – of a slight, athletic build – and when he smiled I felt something akin to a tidal wave hitting me. There was a moment when our eyes met and I knew the same wave hit him. I saw the sparkle in his eyes turn into a deep recognition that neither of us would ever be able to name or describe.

At this point Martin was introducing me to the couple that had been sitting on the sofa, “This is Todd and Robert.”

“Hello Anthony,” said Robert.

“It is nice to meet you Anthony,” added Todd. They were a nice looking couple about the same age as Martin. As with Martin, it was hard to gauge just how old they were.

“Thank you. The pleasure is all mine,” I replied.

“And this is Roger – our favorite bad boy,” Martin said, referring to the gentleman beside the fire. There was obviously an inside joke being brought up.

“Ignore the old man, Anthony,” Roger said holding out his hand, “He only says that because he’s too ancient to get into trouble himself, poor chap. Welcome to London.” Roger shook my hand and seemed to hold it a little too long – as if trying to sense something from me. I was too busy anticipating the next introduction to think about it.

“And before Martin goes on and on about me – let me introduce myself,” spoke the beauty of a man on my left. I turned and he was smiling that intoxicating smile I had already memorized. “I'm Manfred. It is great to finally meet you, Anthony. Martin has told me a lot about you. He practically has set it up that we are to be best friends no matter what.” When I took Manfred’s hand there was electricity that passed from each of us to the other. It wasn’t painful, but it was very noticeable. Our handshake ended quickly because the feeling surprised both of us. How could there be static electricity in this room, I wondered.

“And he has told me a lot about you, Manfred. It’s great to meet you.” I smiled and then forced myself to turn back to everyone else – even though every fiber of my body wanted to stare at this man. I saw that Martin was looking at us – and he had that far away look in his eyes I sometimes noticed. It was the first time it crossed my mind that Martin might be getting senile. That sad thought made me stop for a moment.

Martin obviously noted the change in my face and said, “You must have a drink Anthony. How about a glass of red wine?”

“That would be great,” I said and noticed John pouring two glasses at a table behind the sofa.

“Sit here, Anthony,” Todd suggested scooting closer to Robert on the sofa and pointing to the space nearest the chair that Manfred had returned to. You did not have to ask me twice – hell, I probably would have shoved them over if they hadn’t offered. John handed me a glass of wine.

“Thanks, John,” I said as he went over and stood beside Martin, who had returned to the other chair.

Martin lifted his glass saying, “Well, gentleman, let us drink to old and new friends. Let us also drink to rekindling friendships of long ago.”

I believe everyone was as confused by the toast as I was, but we all raised our glasses and said things like, “Here, here.”

I turned and saw that Manfred was looking right at me. He brought his glass towards me and I brought mine to meet his. The ringing of our glasses as they touched seemed to linger in the room for a long time. The sound reminded me of how I was glued to his eyes as we toasted. I could not explain anything. All I could tell you was that this man stirred something at the bottom of my soul. He obviously had a hold on me that was greater than anything I had ever felt before. It was much deeper than the love I had for any friend – and any family member. I know it made no sense at all – especially because I had just met him, but something was very different in me because I knew him. What was causing this? Maybe it was just an intensified lust since Martin had suggested we might get together (and it had been a while since I was with anyone). I didn’t think so, though. It was stronger than lust. I finally just let go. I stopped trying to analyze it. I stopped worrying about being someone that had to impress Manfred – and decided to just be myself. Somehow that decision brought me much peace. I fell into the evening – and let myself be open to possibility. It seemed like the best decision I have ever made in my life.

When we moved to the huge dining room that was back through the foyer and down a hallway to the left of the staircase, I was ecstatic to find out Martin had placed me beside Manfred. John sat on the other side of me and I picked up immediately that it was planned this way so I wouldn’t feel bad about spending most of the time talking to Manfred. It was obvious that John did not mind.

During the meal no one else existed on the planet – except Manfred. And I got the distinct notion that he felt the same way. It was almost as if everyone at the table left us to ourselves – like there was some secret agreement that we should have our time together. Every now and then I’d look to the head of the table and catch Martin smiling at us – as if he knew this magic between us would happen. That Martin, he was such a character. If he did know that we’d connect this way then he must be some kind of wizard.

Manfred was amazing. He had traveled the world. He was so cultured and educated. I did, however, make fun of the fact that he had never been to Texas – even though he had been to the states many times. He asked me if it was true that all things were bigger in Texas and I teasingly told him I would have to take him there so he could find out. The evening was magical. He laughed at my jokes – and I laughed at his. We had so much in common. He even shared my infatuation with the legend of Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table. He admitted to collecting memorabilia, as well. He was very fond of King Arthur mostly – and seemed curious about my special connection to Lancelot. It was the easiest conversation I have ever been involved in – in my entire life. It seemed that there was an arc of energy between us that surrounded our bodies completely and molded us into one.

I knew half way through the meal that I had fallen head-over-heals in love with him. Even with so little time together. It was insane. Through the rest of the meal this bond I felt moved beyond love – to a connection I had never felt before. It was something that involved every fiber of my body. Manfred seemed to make me whole – he seemed to finish the life I had begun. I saw myself with him – in a way that went beyond mere relationships. I was scared I was beginning to sound like a stalker. I knew it sounded like I had lost all sense of reality. But I was more grounded than ever in my life. I longed to make sure he was happy - even above my own happiness. I knew I would have given my life for him if the need had arisen.

The group moved back to the large living room after dinner. There was port served for everyone and I began to feel the effects of all the alcohol consumed. I was also intoxicated by the presence of Manfred. We sat on the couch together when after moving back in front of the fireplace. Everyone else seemed to be having a great time, as well. Everyone was laughing and soaking up the wonderful feelings caused by the evening. It was simply a perfect night – unforgettable.

At around 11:00pm people started to leave. Todd and Robert were first and as they began to exit, Roger asked for a ride home. The look on everyone’s face told me this was a common experience. Manfred and I stood to say goodnight to the three men. It was obvious that both he and I were going to stay a little longer. After we said goodnight, we sat back down. John excused himself to go help the caterers in the kitchen and Martin said he was going to walk the other three to their car. My heart jumped at the thought that Manfred and I would finally be alone.

After people left the room, Manfred and I sat in silence – watching the fire. It was not an awkward moment – it was just a chance for us to let the evening catch up with our momentum – the lightning pace we had been going. I finally said, “This evening has been incredible, Manfred.” I did not dare turn to him. I was too nervous about my feelings. I kept looking at the fire.

“Yes, it certainly has been,” Manfred said staring at the fire, as well.

“I hope you don’t think I’m too forward, but I’d really like to see you again, Manfred. To spend more time getting to know you,” I said hesitantly, but boldly. "I was hoping we could date."

There was a long pause that made me very uncomfortable. When Manfred finally spoke I knew it would not be good news. My head was beginning to become very cloudy. “Anthony, I think you are an incredible guy. Really. This evening has been so much fun – so wonderful. And I know I have met a life-long friend.”

There it was. That word. A word that could bring so much joy into most people’s lives – but at this particular moment the word “friend” made my whole world crumble away. I am sure the sound of my heart breaking filled the entire room.

Manfred continued, “You see, Anthony, I think you are great, but I am drawn to a certain kind of man. I have very specific tastes. I have always had a certain “type” and I know I always will. The good thing is that knowing myself so well helps me to be very honest with people – but the bad part is that usually my honesty hurts some people. You are stellar; Anthony, and any man would be very lucky to be with you. Really. It is just that I am drawn to guys bigger than me – and guys who have huge muscles. I guess you could say I am really into bodybuilders. I am into guys who have massive bodies. I am not sure what all of this means – I mean I have never discussed it with a therapist or someone, but I know that I cannot be happy unless the guy I am dating is huge. It says nothing about you, Anthony, because I believe you are a great guy. I just know that it would be unfair for me to even pursue a relationship with you. It would not be honest of me.”

I could not think straight. I was trying not to let tears begin to fall. I was also trying not to be angry. I was trying desperately not to lash out and say mean things in response – because I was thinking of many evil things I wanted to say. I just stared at the flames of the fire and searched my whole being for the strength to respond. I could sense that Manfred was looking at me. I turned to face him after a few seconds. I tried my best to smile. I am not sure it was very convincing. I finally spoke, “Thank you or being so honest, Manfred. You are right to tell me. It is better this way. I now know where you stand. And, yes, it would be great to be friends.”

As soon as I said the word I heard my voice crack. I refused to cry. I will not cry, I said to myself. I continued, “We have so much in common. It would seem useless to not build on those common interests.” I could tell by looking at his face that he was deeply sorry this was so hard for me. That did not make it easier for me to take. I knew I needed to leave soon or I would break down. I had hoped for too much during this evening. I had built myself into a corner – and now I was trapped.

“Well, I really should be going,” I said trying to sound nonchalant. I stood up. “This has been a lovely evening.”

“No, Anthony, please stay. Let’s talk some more. I am very sorry to have hurt you,” Manfred said and I knew he meant it. It just did not help me to feel better.

“No, that’s fine. I mean - I’m fine. Not to worry, Manfred. You were right to be so honest and straightforward. I just have an early session with my trainer tomorrow, that’s all.” I wanted to move to the doorway. “I look forward to the next time I get to see you, Manfred,” I said holding out my hand. Manfred took it and there was a jolt of energy again. Manfred held on tightly this time. I finally pulled my hand free and said, “You have a great rest of the week, Manfred, and a great weekend. It was super meeting you.” I turned and left the room quickly.

“I’ll get your number from Martin and call you,” Manfred said as I left the room. I didn’t respond. I knew I needed to leave as soon as possible. I was so afraid of crying. I bumped into Martin in the foyer. It felt as if he had been standing there for a while. He saw the backpack in my hand and the distressed look on my face.

“Anthony, what is wrong? You are not leaving are you?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so Martin. I need to meet my trainer tomorrow morning – so I need a good night’s sleep. I need to be ready for a good work out.” I answered.

“Yes, but Anthony it’s not even midnight. We still have about twenty-five minutes,” he said looking at his watch.

In my head I screamed, “Who the hell cares about midnight.” But all I said to Martin was, “Thank you for a lovely evening, Martin. I really must go – right now.”

“Well, let me get John to drive you home,” replied Martin moving toward the kitchen.

“No, thanks Martin. I saw the Tube station at the end of your street. The walk will do me good. I’ll talk to you this weekend. Tell John I said goodnight. Thanks, again, for a great evening.” And with that I was out the door and five minutes later I was using my Tube pass for the first time.

As I had left the house I heard Martin ask Manfred, “What did you do?” I did not wait around to hear Manfred’s answer.

*****

Once I was sitting on the Tube heading towards home I pulled my IPOD from my backpack. I was so distressed I was looking for anything to do that would keep my mind from thinking about Manfred. I put the headphones on and found the playlist entitled “Time to Be Sad.” I started this list of songs. The first one to come on was from the musical Les Miserables. It was the song “I Dreamed a Dream.” This is the one that Fantine sings near the beginning of the show. The song begins:

“There was a time when men were kind,
When their voices were soft,
And their words inviting.
There was a time when love was blind,
And the world was a song,
And the song was exciting.
There was a time…
When it all went wrong.”

As the last line of this part was sung a tear hit the screen of the IPOD. I could no longer hold it back. I knew there was no logic in my crying – but I also somehow knew that wrapped up in this sadness was so much more than just what had happened in the evening. Not only the painful rejection of Manfred, but I was crying because of the struggle caused from being so far from home, the hardship created by not having any close friends or family, but mostly the disappointment of not being more of the person I wanted to be – that I dreamed of being. More specifically, the pain of not being the person that Manfred wanted.

I was so incredibly sad that I wasn’t more muscular – that I wasn’t, what word did he use, oh, yes, massive. Why couldn’t I be massive? If I had been bigger I would have been at Manfred’s place at that moment – kissing those lips that made me so crazy. Holding that body which excited me so. Being with the man that seemed to be my soul mate.

How could I be so stupid? How could I act so childish? This was just an infatuation. Let it go, Anthony, let it go. He is not the one for you. You deserve someone who wants you – just the way you are. Your desires have taken over you logic. I told myself that I wanted a boyfriend so much that I put all of my eggs in this one basket. Let it go, I said to myself again. There are others – many others out there waiting to meet you, Anthony.

I began to notice that the Tube was getting unbearably hot. I glanced at the people right beside me to see if they were uncomfortable, but they seemed fine. It was probably because I was a tourist and they were used to it. It was really stifling, though. I unbuttoned my shirt a little. I closed my eyes and my thoughts returned to Manfred.

Even with knowing this feeling was illogical, I know I had connected with Manfred in a way I had never experienced before. He had everything I dreamed of in a partner – humor, kindness, beauty (of the heart and body), and interests similar to mine. I knew our connection was deep. I also knew he had felt it, too. Well, he didn’t know what he was missing, I told myself. That’s right. His desire for some “massive” bodybuilder caused him to miss out on the catch of a lifetime – and that person was me. So be it, Manfred. So be it. You made the decision to pass up on this great guy. I was starting to feel better, but the car I was riding in was unbearably hot. I looked up and the windows were wide open. I was even starting to sweat profusely, but no one around me seemed bothered in the same way.

I looked around the rest of the car to see if anyone else was as disturbed as I was. We were at a station that was a few stops before where I would get off. I had the map lying in my lap. As the car began again I looked forward in the car and my earlier sadness evaporated in a heartbeat and was replaced by a quickened pulse. Sitting at the other end of the car – staring right at me – was Atol. There were maybe twenty-five other people sitting in the car around him – but his size made him stick out unbelievably. This time he knew I noticed him. His glare did not change. He just sat there watching me. I was finding it harder to sit there because of the heat I was experiencing, but my fear of this man made me forget everything else. I started quickly thinking of something to do. My instincts told me he would do nothing to me with so many people in the car. I hoped my instincts were right.

I kept staring at him and it seemed that neither of us even blinked. I started formulating a plan. I didn’t know the Tube system very well, but I thought my plan was my only hope. The car was moving quickly into the next stop at that moment. I was sitting near the back door – the door that led to the next car. When the car came to a complete stop my luck got better because a large group of rowdy teenagers entered into our car. When the car stopped I paid special attention to how everything worked. The doors closed and we started traveling to the next station. My entire body was ready for this challenge – the experience that lay ahead of me. Even with so much alcohol in me I was able to think clearly and let my "energy rush" guide me. At the next stop I waited until a few seconds before I thought the doors would begin to close. My body somehow knew the exact moment to move. I jumped up and went through the door to the next car. I glanced back and saw that Atol had stood and was trying to follow me – but the group of teenagers was in the way. He started shoving them to the side. At the last second I jumped to the platform. I moved so quickly that the doors did not register my body and closed. Atol did not have time to exit his car. I glanced at him and could tell that he was very angry.

At that moment the heat that had been bothering me in the car became intensified. I was having trouble breathing. I watched the train pull away and I knew Atol would exit at the next station; which was not far away. I needed to get home. I quickly exited the station and immediately knew I was in trouble. I had no idea where I was. My body was on fire and I began to think I was either having an allergic reaction to the fish I had eaten for dinner or a severe case of food poisoning was hitting me. My instinct told me is was something more than either of those.

I was in such a daze that I started just going down streets randomly. I figured that if I were lost then it would certainly be harder for Atol to find me. I had to stop twice because I was having such a hard time breathing. It seemed as if I could not get any air to my lungs. I began to fear that I was having a heart attack. I was on a street that was deserted. I had to stop at one moment because I was in so much pain. I had to bend over on the side of the road propping myself up against the wall with my hands. My stomach was in so much pain – no, not my stomach, it was my entire body.

I suddenly heard footsteps down the street. They seemed to be coming my way in a hurry. I looked up and could barely see a figure coming in my direction. The pain in my body was clouding my vision and my thinking. My senses told me it might be danger. I forced my body to move forward in spite of the pain. There was an alley further down the road. I turned right and moved down the alley – noticing that the only light came from the full moon. The overhand of the building I was next to prevented the moonlight from filling the entire space of the alley. If I stood up against the wall I was completely hidden.

I finally had to just stop. The pain that as coursing through my body was too much. I was hoping I could just vomit and be over whatever sickness this was – but I noticed my stomach didn’t feel upset in that way. The footsteps passed the alley way and kept going. In the distance I heard a clock tower striking midnight. As the clock struck the twelfth time my body began to rock with violent convulsions. It was again hard for me to stay standing so I placed both hands on the wall for balance. It felt as if something inside of me was trying to get out. Something was trying to escape my body at every part of my skin. I slowly began to notice that the pain inside of me was actually like a force. There was a force taking over me and it was causing me to change in some way. I watched my hands on the wall as they started to freakishly pulse. It was like some virus was causing my skin to bubble or become deformed. I could feel my fingers being spread further apart from each other on the wall. My whole body felt like it was expanding to welcome some foreign being into me. It was this incredible feeling of stretching.

Suddenly a bright light surrounded me. It was streaming down from the sky. It seemed as if a moonbeam had singled me out and was causing this change in me. Once the light hit me the force inside me intensified tenfold. I could feel this incredible power, even in the midst of the pain, flooding into my body. Suddenly a jolt beyond explanation forced me away from the wall and caused my back to bend unbearably. My chest was forced forward and upward. It seemed as if my chest was trying to reach for the moon. I was pulled to the tips of my toes by the power. My body seemed to be getting a surge of energy from the moon – becoming part of the incredible force that the moon had on the earth. I was completely under its control. I was unable to move and the pain was incredible. It felt as if my back might break. Suddenly another bolt of energy hit me and I was forced over onto my knees. And then it was all over. The inhuman cry that had come from my mouth was still echoing in the alley. I was drained of all energy. I could not get my thoughts to focus on anything. I was trying hard not to lose consciousness.

At that moment I heard the footsteps returning. The person was in the alley. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. I felt as if I had no life remaining in my body. Suddenly two arms grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. A car came up the alley slowly at the same time. It stopped beside me, but I couldn’t focus long enough to register anything about the car. I heard voices. The first one seemed so familiar but I couldn't place it. The second voice was definitely Martin. I suddenly gave completely into the arms holding me. I felt safer. It was Martin, my friend. I heard the other voice again and it hit me that it was Luke – the football player from the plane – Gaston. The big guy from the plane was helping me into Martin’s car. What was Luke doing in London – why I was able to even formulate this question was unfathomable.

As I was placed into the seat beside Martin I heard Luke say, “Then it is true. He is the one.”

Then I heard Martin say, “Yes, he is the one. Let’s go now. We need to get him home quickly. The change has already begun. We also need to make sure he remembers nothing after the party.”

And then the darkness of sleep overcame me.

[End of Chapter One]

Last edited by Londonboy; April 20th, 2007 at 03:37 PM.
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  #2   Add to Mad Dog's Reputation   Report Post  
Old April 18th, 2007, 12:42 AM
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You did a good job building up to the growth! Kudos! My only nitpick is that usually if I'm clever enough to figure out what the "secret message" is, the main character should be, too.
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Old April 18th, 2007, 01:14 AM
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This has turned out to be quite the page-turner... er... scroller.

Chapter 2 can't come quick enough.
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Old April 18th, 2007, 04:42 AM
a true SIZE QUEEN
 
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This is quite a thriller!

Excelent construction. Your really managed to build up the tension and left us hanging there, desperate for a new installment.

You naughty one

Cheers
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Old April 18th, 2007, 11:13 AM
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You tease! The next part better come quickly!

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Old April 18th, 2007, 02:26 PM
A wanabe be muscled chav
 
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I can't wait for the next Chapeter either.........
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Old April 18th, 2007, 05:01 PM
Fun - but lost, LOL
 
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Originally Posted by Blake
I can't wait for the next Chapeter either.........

Me either - but it seems a bit dragged out. Just a suggestion.
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Old April 18th, 2007, 10:07 PM
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Woo Hoo! Yay for Cliff Hangers!

You had me on the edge of my seat for the longest time! Great story, Please post more soon!
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Old April 20th, 2007, 11:07 PM
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Keep it coming!

Londonboy,

Thanks so much for sharing your talents with us. Your story gets more intriguing with every chapter. I can't wait to find out what will happen to Anthony next!
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Old April 23rd, 2007, 08:38 AM
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Ok so I was giddy for a moment by the random-but-awesome "at that moment a hot guy walked up with two beers" (or something to that effect) followed by calling him "Mr Hotness." just thought i'd share ;p
~ille scriptor
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