by Liam Livings
“My round, I think.”
Nick frowned. “I don’t think it can be. I’ve never…” His eyes widened. “Is that you, Tony?”
Taking his wig off and shaking his own hair, which rattled the two blue plastic earrings he’d added for the eighties part of the performance, Tony said, “Yes.”
“I didn’t know.” Nick looked him up and down, licking his lips, no doubt working out what to say next. “Underneath all that. But…why?”
Why? Tony frowned. That hadn’t been the question he’d expected. How long? Why hadn’t he told Nick before? What was the inspiration behind his drag act? Those were questions Tony had hoped for. From Nick. Not the bald, simple and cold why?
Swallowing, he said, “It is my round. What do you want?”
“Actually, I think I might go.” Nick shuffled anxiously on his seat.
“Why?”
“A thing. I just remembered. I need to…” Nick looked at his watch and stood from the barstool.
Resting his hand on top of Nick’s, Tony asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t expect this. You to…”
“Being this, Sue Sullied, is an act. An outlet for my creativity. A performance. I can be more outrageous on stage as her than plain old boring Tony. Sue Sullied turns me into this strong warrior person and I feel invincible. I’m still a gay man. If that helps.” Not that he should really have to justify himself, but Tony wanted Nick to stay for the rest of the night, to enjoy their time together, as they had before.
Nick smiled, but it wasn’t a proper smile. It was one of those smiles people do when they’re looking at a child behaving poorly or when they see someone who’s lost and they feel sorry for them.
Pity.
Exactly what Tony wanted. Not.
Shaking his head, Nick said, “I’m going to London. I didn’t think you’d… What do your parents think?”
“They’re very supportive, actually. As are my friends.” Most of them, except the odd one who’d reacted the way Nick was and he’d not bothered seeing them again. Somehow, though, this hurt more, because Tony had shared so much more with Nick than other friends. Tony had, by showing this side of himself, shared something deep, precious inside his heart. And this was how Nick repaid him. “Which is more than I can say for you.”
“I’ve not got anything against it. I thought you were a…normal gay man.”
“A normal gay man?” Tony had heard some insults in his life, but this one, particularly as it was from a gay man himself, pretty much took the biscuit.
***
Nick looked Tony up and down, and even with the wig removed, he hardly recognised him. It was a lot to take in. He knew he’d not expressed himself as well as he should have. “That didn’t come out right,” he said. “Not normal. I mean…” What did he mean? And why was seeing this side of Tony bothering him so much?
“Go. If you’ve got something else to do, just go.” Tony motioned to the barman, who asked what he wanted to drink. Giving his order, Tony turned to Nick and said, “I thought you were leaving.”
He was. He had been. He should. But for some reason, Nick was still standing at the bar next to a different version of Tony from the one he’d been expecting to meet tonight. “I don’t mind this. It’s a surprise. It’s fun. I wasn’t expecting it…I think.” Nick scrabbled for the right words to say. “Look, you can do what you like, it’s just that I’m not over-keen to see it.”
Taking a deep breath, Tony shook his head and accepted the drink the barman had made for him. “Did you really just say that?”
“I didn’t expect this. Not see it, I meant…do it myself. I had no idea you…” Nick was digging himself a deeper hole than before.
“Is it because I’m your friend or because I’m more than your friend?” Tony took a sip of his drink, then turned back to face Nick, staring deep into his eyes.
That hadn’t occurred to Nick before now. Or had it? How would he feel if Tony were his friend and they’d met for drinks like this? Why was this freaking him out so much?
“Kieran and Kev are still friends,” Tony said. “Have been for years. Kev said he gave him a hug and that was the end of it.”
“It is different because we’re not just friends,” Nick argued. He realised he didn’t want a boyfriend who sometimes looked like a girlfriend. That was as simple as it was, but he couldn’t say it like that to Tony.
“How?”
Nick’s ex used to complain if he held a plastic carrier bag by the handles, saying it was too camp. He’d once cut the handles off a canvas tote so Nick couldn’t carry it over his shoulder. Nick wasn’t attracted to women. Nick was attracted to men, so seeing Tony like this confused him and, he was ashamed to admit, disappointed him a little.
“I can’t explain it,” Nick said, wanting to keep all those thoughts inside his head.
“Bet you can. Go on. Spit it out. You’re dying to.”
“Look, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m moving to London so…”
“This—me like this, is your perfect excuse to not keep in touch. I see.” Tony finished his drink and signalled for another. “Look, are you staying to belittle me, or are you going to piss off?”
“I don’t want to piss off. I was looking forward to a nice evening together. To meeting you here.”
“And I’ve spoilt it by dressing up like this?”
“That’s not what I said.” Nick drummed his hands on the bar.
“You didn’t need to. I can see what you think on your face.”
“It takes a bit of getting used to. It’s like you, but turned up to eleven or something. I know you’re not all masc-for-masc bromo, but this is—”
“Too much? Disgusting? Off-putting? Come on, tell me. I’ve heard it all before. Worse, probably.” Tony wiped a tear from his eye. “Stupid of me to think you’d understand. Stupid of me to think since we were more than friends, you’d want to know about this part of me. Stupid, naïve Tony the twat.”
Nick put his hand on Tony’s bare shoulder, replacing the dress strap, which had fallen down. “I didn’t expect this. It’s more than I thought I was walking into tonight.” He felt uncomfortable with seeing Tony like this, but he also felt guilty about his own reaction. Nick knew why—his ex’s influence—but he too had opinions about what men who dressed in women’s clothes were and weren’t, which he felt guilty, ashamed, uncomfortable for having, but he couldn’t help it yet. Because he didn’t understand it. However, he wasn’t sure he could have a relationship with one of them. Seeing the hurt in Tony’s eyes felt like a knife cutting through Nick’s heart, but he couldn’t change what he’d said or why he’d said it.
“I really like you.” At one point, Nick had thought he really liked Tony, but since the plan to move to London, he was sure it had only been infatuation and lust. Now, his lust was all but gone, and his confusion about this side of Tony made running away easier because Nick was sure it would never work out with them; not with this side of Tony in the relationship too.
“Yeah,” Tony said. “That’s why you’re leaving and treating me like a leper tonight. Great friend you’ve turned out to be. A friend, who, by the way, I’ve done so much more with than any other friends I’ve had, and even more than most men I’ve dated.”
Nick shrugged. He had no answer to that.
“I wanted to show you this side of me because I care about you. Because I thought you’d want to know more of the real me. Big mistake.”
“I did. I mean, I do. Want to know more about you. I still want to. And hopefully you me.”
Turning away from Nick, Tony said, “I’ve learnt more than enough about you tonight. I think you should go to London and have a nice life. I don’t need people like you in mine.”
“People like me?” Nick asked.
“Who make me feel like something they’ve stepped on. Who make me feel I need to apologise for who I am.”
“I’ve not made you feel this way. You’re feeling like that yourself. I�
��ve just told you what I think—that I’m struggling with this a bit. It’s all new to me. I don’t understand it. I’ve never had any friends who do this. I need to work out how I feel about it.” Nick felt that was kinder than telling Tony all his conflicted and unpleasant emotions.
“No. Don’t go all cod-psychology on me. You think you’re an expert now you’ve been a social worker for five minutes. The way you said you’re struggling with it, you don’t want to see this side of me—listen to that and imagine how you’d feel if I said that to you.”
Nick, although he tried, couldn’t deny that. “I think it’s best if I leave.”
“What I can’t believe is that you’re still here. That you can stand to look at me like this. Rubbing all this queerness in your face.”
Nick leant forward to give Tony a hug, but Tony recoiled and shook his head, saying, “I don’t need your pity. I’ve got everything I need here, with people who accept me.” He gestured around the club and on stage, where another drag act was performing Cher’s ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ while straddling a cannon and wearing only a couple of bottle tops and a pair of lacy knickers.
Knowing it was useless to try to explain how he felt anymore, Nick left without looking back.
Well, I’ve totally fucked that up. Shit.
***
Checking Nick had gone, Tony took a deep breath and composed himself, but it was too much. Too late. He felt too hurt to carry on his pretence of being fine about it all. Although he’d let a few tears escape earlier, he thought he’d managed to disguise that—make-up in the eye or something—but now that Nick had gone, the full enormity of what he’d said to Tony really hit him.
Disgust—that was the main feeling Tony was left with. Followed by a side smudging of pity. All wrapped up in a make-up case of self-loathing homophobia.
Well, Tony decided, asking the barman for the largest, strongest, most flamboyant cocktail on the menu, I don’t need that sort of shit in my life. I’m better off without him. Good job he’s leaving for London.
Noticing his phone was ringing, Tony stirred the cocktail with the flamingo swizzler, took a sip through the pink straw and answered.
“How did it go?” Kieran asked optimistically.
“The show was great. Wish you could have been here.” Tony swallowed another large glug of the cocktail. He was feeling light-headed—unsurprising, since he’d had at least four drinks before this one.
“Me too. It might be the noise around you, but you sound a bit…off.”
“Tired. I’m fine, really. I’d best let you go. I’m with someone. I’m doing that thing where you sit with a friend and talk to another one on the phone. Rude.”
“Who are you with? Oh, it’s Nick, isn’t it?” Tony heard the naughty tone in Kieran’s voice.
“Yep,” Tony replied, straining to keep his emotions in check and looking to the seat next to him where Nick had been sitting. The scene of the crime, as Tony now thought of it.
“Did he like your act? I must get down to see you again. I loved it last time. Shall I let you know when I’ve got a weekend off and can visit?”
Tony nodded. “That would be nice.” He blinked, unable to stop himself from crying. “I’m going now. Bye.”
“Hang on. What’s wrong?”
“I’m going now. Literally now.”
“Hang up and I’ll call you back. Leave the bar and go somewhere quiet and tell me what’s happened.”
Taking his drink outside to the smoking area, he commandeered a table near the back that had just been vacated by a group of smokers.
“I really want a fag now.” He’d given up smoking a long time ago, but if any time warranted starting again, now, sitting outside surrounded by other smokers, when he’d had his heart broken, felt like the right time.
“So have one,” Kieran said.
For some reason, someone else giving him permission meant Tony was soon tapping a stranger on the shoulder, explaining he’d run out of his own and could he please bum one of theirs? With a wordless nod, the stranger handed one over and lit it for him.
Tony inhaled deeply, preparing to tell Kieran what had happened. When the coughing fit passed, he said, “This isn’t as nice as I remember it. Suppose that’s why I gave up.”
“Yes,” Kieran said. “Now, breathe…and tell me.”
“He said he didn’t mind what I did, but he didn’t want to see it.”
“Nick?”
“I wanted to show him this part of me. Like you do, to people you care about.”
“Like you do, yes,” Kieran agreed.
“And this is what I get.”
After Tony had told him the rest of what had happened, Kieran asked, “Do you want me to come up and spend next weekend with you?”
“I’m fine now I’ve told you about it. Honestly. Fine.”
“This is something you’re better off knowing about someone before you get in too deep. Too serious.”
Tony nodded, blinking and squeezing out the tears that had formed, despite telling himself he would not shed any more over that bloody man. “In that case, I think it was too late.”
“Why?”
“If I didn’t care about him so much, would I be this upset?”
“Fair comment. But if he says stuff like that to you, he’s not worth being upset over. You know that, right?”
“I do.” Tony puffed out his chest, focusing on being the strong, brave warrior person he became before going on stage…as opposed to a tear-soaked drag artist smelling of smoke and pity.
“Next weekend, I’ll come and see you,” Kieran added. “If I could text you a hug, I would.”
“I know.” Standing, Tony said, “I’m going to get absolutely shitfaced and try to forget this whole evening—this whole six months. This whole person ever existed.” And he ended the call and returned to the bar, where he ordered another three cocktails.
Chapter 10
A few weeks later, Tony was spending the weekend in London visiting Kieran. He’d wanted something to take his mind off yet another relationship having ended and had jumped with relish at Kieran’s suggestion they go sightseeing.
“You don’t mind that he’s here too?” Kieran asked as they stood in his kitchen discussing their plans.
Taking an exaggerated look around the room they were in, then the rest of Kieran’s flat, Tony said, “He’s not here. So I’m unlikely to bump into him. It’s fine.”
They continued discussing plans and were soon on a boat making its way down the Thames.
Staring at the Millennium Wheel as they passed it, Tony turned to Kieran and said, “I’d forgotten how much I was doing with him. When he left, I suddenly had an empty diary.”
Kieran stroked Tony’s back comfortingly. “You’ve still got me.”
“And plenty of other friends. I know. But after it being so intense with one person, I can’t help but miss him, you know?”
“I do.”
“It’s given me the opportunity to do what I said I’d do when we talked at your birthday. Celibacy is actually quite easy. I don’t do anything about being single. I may become a monk. I practically am one, if you know what I mean.”
Kieran nodded. “I know what you mean.” He paused, then asked, “Have you heard from him?”
Tony shook his head. “And I’m not telling him I’m here this weekend either.”
“This is our stop.” Kieran collected his things and led them towards the crowds as they waited to leave the boat at Greenwich.
They walked into Greenwich Park and took a picture with their legs astride the meridian; Tony posted it on Twitter, adding lots of hashtags about best friends and friendship and London and Greenwich, which was apparently the done thing, he’d been told by a twenty-something gay guy at The Duke a while ago when he’d been complaining no one did Facebook anymore.
Putting his phone back in his pocket, he forgot about it, and they went to the Royal Maritime Museum, followed by a trip around the Cutty Sark, w
hich, for an old boat found at the bottom of the ocean, was quite impressive. Afterwards, they took a leisurely walk around Greenwich market.
“Beats the man selling old vacuum cleaner bags on Salisbury market,” Tony said as he’d passed the fourth stall selling mirrors, framed pictures and garden ornaments costing enough to require a bank loan.
Kieran held up a rainbow-coloured strip of glass as wide as a couple of fingers and longer than his hand. “Like it?”
Tony frowned. “What is it?”
“A wishing glass.” Kieran held it closer so Tony could inspect it…and the price. It was about three times what he’d expected it to cost.
“It’s all right. I’ll live without it.”
“I know you will, but I thought you could do with some luck. A wish.”
Gently putting it back on the stall, Tony said under his breath, “The only thing I wish about that is for it not cost an arm and a leg.”
Looking at the stallholder, Kieran said, “I’ll take it, thanks,” and handed over the money to the stall owner and the wish stick to Tony. “Make a wish. Not about what it costs. A gift from me. You could do with cheering up. It’ll remind you of this weekend when you’re back home.”
Tony hugged him. “Honestly, I’m fine. Over him already.”
“Make a wish,” Kieran insisted.
As they sat eating lunch a short while later, Tony carefully inspected the rainbow-coloured glass and made a wish, keeping it to himself and making sure Kieran didn’t notice he’d done it. “So where are we going out tonight?”
“I assumed you’d be knackered and would want a takeaway and film night.”
“I can do that at home. I’m in London. I want to do London things.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Kieran forked some food into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
They got the Tube back to Kieran’s place, where Tony dozed on the sofa while Kieran checked club nights, tickets and other friends who may be interested in going out. He noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he was too exhausted to do anything about it, so he left it there. Next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by Kieran.