That Crazy Reality Show

by Natasha Kent

  Someone had called the police and an ambulance, and they arrived in no time. Frank ended up being arrested for assault. Amanda, Eddie and Albert had come upstairs not long after I did and saw the whole thing happen. I sat there with Matt, who was still unconscious, while the paramedics strapped him onto the gurney and made their way downstairs.

  “Sir,” one of the medics said, “you really need to get to the hospital and have the glass taken out of your hand.” I looked down. My hands were a mess, all cut and bloodied from the drink glass. Oh, and let’s not forget the pummeling I gave Frank. Amanda agreed to take me over to the hospital.

  We got to Piedmont Hospital and it took about an hour or so for the doctor to see me. Luckily the glass didn’t cut too deeply and I didn’t need stitches, but there were still some shards that she picked out. I didn’t care about me. I needed to see Matt. Amanda asked around and found out that he had come to and was going to be kept overnight for observation. Apparently he had as light concussion.

  “Where is he?” I asked. The nurse pointed us to the room.

  Amanda and I headed in and my heart sunk. They had his bed up so he was almost sitting and his head was bandaged from the tops of his ears up. “How ya doin’ hon?” Amanda asked.

  Matt smiled an exhausted smile and said, “Now this is an Excedrin headache.”

  I grinned as the tears welled up in my eyes. Amanda looked at me and said, “I’ll wait outside.” I watched her go. After the door shut I grabbed a chair and sat it beside his bed. I put my hand on his forearm and said, “How ya doin’ pal?”

  “Oh man,” he groaned. “I’ve been better. But at least they gave me some demoral a minute ago.”

  I grinned at him. “You’ll be out soon then.”

  He looked down at my hands which were bandaged. “What happened to you?”

  “Oh this?” holding them up. “They had a date with Frank’s face.”

  “Wow. How’d the date end?”

  “I sent him home early,” I smiled. “How’s your head?”

  “Ok. I told you he’d fuck things up,” Matt said.

  “What happened?”

  “He started talking shit about John.” You could see the demoral starting to take effect. “He always does because he knows it always gets to me.” I shook my head slightly. “I told him I’d had enough…to get out…he’d ruined us enough as kids, why’d he have to keep the shit up. He laughed and said I was crazy.” He was getting sleepy pretty fast. “Mike,” he said with his eyes closed, “you’re so brave.”

  “Nahhh,” I whispered, “just a bitter young man.”

  He smiled a bit at this, but then the corner of his lips curled down. “I didn’t tell him to stop.”

  “What?” I asked. Tears started rolling slowly down his cheeks.

  “I didn’t tell him to stop,” he whispered. “When I was young…”

  I leaned a little closer and said softly, “You were just a little boy.”

  The tears rolled down even more and he said in a whisper, “I just wanted him to love me. I just wanted him to love me.”

  “Shhhh, that’s what we all want,” I said.

  Matt opened his eyes a bit and looked at me. “Maybe I am crazy.”

  “No,” I smiled, “you’re sane.”

  He let out a deep breath and said, “You need to get back to the studio.” At this point the tears were rolling down my cheeks.

  “No. I’m right where I’m needed.” I held his hand up to my lips and kissed it. I put it down and watched him drift of to sleep, my heart aching for him.

  He smiled a bit at this, but then the corner of his lips curled down. “I didn’t tell him to stop.”

  “What?” I asked. Tears started rolling slowly down his cheeks.

  “I didn’t tell him to stop,” he whispered. “When I was young…”

  I leaned a little closer and said softly, “You were just a little boy.”

  The tears rolled down even more and he said in a whisper, “I just wanted him to love me. I just wanted him to love me.”

  “Shhhh, that’s what we all want,” I said.

  Matt opened his eyes a bit and looked at me. “Maybe I am crazy.”

  “No,” I smiled, “you’re sane.”

  He let out a deep breath and said, “You need to get back to the studio.” At this point the tears were rolling down my cheeks.

  “No. I’m right where I’m needed.” I held his hand up to my lips and kissed it. I put it down and watched him drift of to sleep, my heart aching for him.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Matt came home the next day and few days after that the bandages came off his head. Neither one of us really understood why the hospital had wrapped it—it’s not like his head was leaking gray matter or anything. The doctors told him to get plenty of rest and he was pretty good about paying attention to that. He’d try to help me with my workout but I’d just let him point out what to do and coach me along. Not that I really needed that much coaching. Pretty much show me something once and I can do it after that just fine.

  Every once in a while a few people would head out and go shopping or to a club or whatever but I elected to stay at the studio with him. He was my friend.

  “Mike, come on, I can take care of myself. I appreciate all your help but you don’t need to hang around here,” he’d said.

  “Tell you what,” I said, “I’ll just sit and read or listen to my music or whatever.”

  “Dude, you need to get out into creation. Go on, go out with Eddie and Albert.”

  I rolled my eyes. Yipee, I thought. They weren’t exactly the kind of guys I normally hang out with, but I figured what the hell. They were nice enough. Actually, I was just pouting. I really wanted to hang around Matt. The three of us decided to head out and shoot some pool at a local bar. I had a nice time after all, even though I lost half the time I played. When we came back to the studio later that night Matt was covered with a blanket on the couch, trying to fall asleep.

  “Hey man,” Albert said, “why don’t you head back to the room, get some shut-eye.”

  “I will,” he said. You could hear in his voice that he was tired. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Where are the girls?” Eddie asked.

  “I think they headed out to Lennox.” That would be Lennox Square Mall, which is a swanky mall way north on Peachtree. I’m a teacher, so I can afford less swanky, like Sears or Jacques Penyay's.

  Eddie and Albert went into the bedroom and I lingered out in the living room a bit. “How you feeling?”

  “Oh, I feel fine, I’m just having a hard time getting to sleep,” he said.

  “Want me to rub your ass?” I said with a big grin.

  He chuckled, “Some other time, maybe.” Our couch was a great big sectional in the shape of a “U”, or a “C”, depending on how you looked at it. Matt was lying in the middle section with his head near one of the corners. I plopped down in the corner next to his head. He winced a little bit. “Oww.”

  “Shoot, I’m sorry. I keep forgettin’ you got a head. I could sit on your lap instead?” trying to get him to laugh.

  “You dork. Don’t worry about it,” he murmured.

  “So how ya feelin’?” I asked.

  “Dude, you just asked me that.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, my head’s somewhere else I guess.”

  We sat there for a moment and then he said, “That feels good.” I looked down at him and realized that I must have started rubbing his head unconsciously.

  “Sorry man,” I stopped, “I didn’t know I was doing that,” I chuckled.

  “Hey, I didn’t say stop.” Huh?

  He couldn’t see me but I smiled as I resumed scratching his hair. Matt really has great hair. It’s thick and probably really wavy if he’d let it grow out more. I wasn’t trying to be overtly sexual; I was just trying to make him feel good.

  After a few minutes he said, “So you’re parents never knew about you being gay.”

 
; “Hel-lo!” I laughed. “Well, apparently they knew, they just didn’t tell me.” He chuckled at this. “I mean, I never told them.”

  “I know,” he smiled. Perfect teeth. Oye. “How come you never told them?”

  “Good question,” I said, thinking for a moment. “I guess I was afraid of what they’d say…how they’d react.”

  “But it went well the other night, right?”

  “Oh, hell yeah.” I continued running my hands through his hair. His eyes were closed and I could tell he was enjoying my “ministrations.”

  “Why do you think it’s so hard to tell your parents, and I don’t just mean ‘Martin’s parents,’ but any guy to tell his parents that he’s gay?”

  “Well I imagine that for some guys it’s easy, if sexuality has been talked about a lot, if the guy has a close relationship with his folks. I’m not sure why it’s easy for some guys.” I thought about that for a minute.

  “Do you wish you had said something sooner?” he asked.

  “I think so. I really think so. Mom and Dad were so friggin’ cool about it. I guess I should’ve known that they would be. They were always easy to talk to growing up. It’s sad but I have known a couple of guys whose parents have cut off all ties with them. From a parental point of view I don’t get that. Not that I’m a parent and have that kind of perspective but I just can’t imagine saying ‘Hey son, don’t lie, cheat or steal; but really don’t fall in love with a man.’ “

  He laughed at this. I looked down at him; his eyes still closed, and turned my body to face him more. At this point I started massaging his temples with both hands. “Mmmm” was the only sound to come from him.

  “I think that part of the reason it’s kind of scary to tell your parents that you’re gay is because, well, how many parents raising their kids are saying to themselves that their kids could be straight or gay. They probably just assume that they’re straight and not even think about anything else, because that’s what they’re familiar with. And there’s always some sort of stigma to coming out as a gay guy, except around people who are gay-friendly. Although I bet it’s a helluva lot easier than it would be in the 50’s. Yeesh! Hell, now there are rumblings about different states passing laws allowing gay marriages.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nuh-uh. The religious freaks really go ballistic on that one. I always thought that if there’s a separation of church and state, then why can’t the state decide to have state marriages, or whatever. It’s fine if the churches don’t—that’s their prerogative and how they wish to lead their congregations. Ok, I can dig that. But shit,” I joked,”at least ban Hollywood marriages. Movie stars never stay together.” He laughed at this. “I’m serious, though. When you think about it more so-called straight people have screwed up the lives of children with their cheating, or shacking up, or divorces, than the mere existence of gay people ever has.”

  “You know Martin,” Matt said, “you always have a bizarre way of stating the obvious,” and he laughed a bit again.

  “Well shit!” I said. “I can only wonder how Grandma responded.”

  “Huh?”

  “My grandma—I’m curious how she responded to me coming out,” I repeated.

  “Why?”

  “Oh, just ‘cause she’s a bit of a nut. In a good way, though. Grandma, my dad’s mom, lives with them.” I said with a chuckle, thinking about her. “Actually she’s pretty cool, you’d like her a lot.”

  “You think I’ll get to meet her this week?”

  “Oh hell, I forgot they were coming here! I’ll bet they bring her. That old gal’s a hoot! You think I tell it like it is? Hoss, she wrote the book.”

  I kept my massage up, lightly rubbing all around his head. Sometimes I’d run my hands down the sides of his face, along his jaw line to his chin. The goatee felt funny at first but believe me I had no problem getting used to it!

  “So Martin, what kind of guy…well…are you interested in?” Matt asked.

  I leaned over a bit. He opened his eyes and looked into mine. “I’ve got my hands on him right now,” I replied. He seemed to blush a bit, but smiled and closed his eyes again.

  “Seriously, what kind of guy?”

  “I am serious. You think I’d just start rubbing just any guy’s head?”

  “Heh, heh, heh. Ok, so then, why me.”

  “Oh God I don’t know.”

  “Uh, thanks?” I knew he was joking.

  “No, lemme think.” I thought about it for a moment. “Well, there’s no way you can get away from the physical attraction.”

  He smirked and said, “You like the bod, huh?”

  “Oh God, when I first saw you I thought I’d have to walk the rest of the way bent over so I wouldn’t break my pecker! I could’ve pointed the way to the elevators with my schwanz.” He laughed out loud at this. “Seriously though,” I continued, “don’t get me wrong. You don’t look like a model in a magazine—“

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “—hush now! Well, you’re face isn’t like a typical model; but you’re a really good looking guy. You’ve got a great jaw line and I love facial hair.”

  “I guess that means I’ll keep the goatee,” he said.

  Then I leaned over and playfully rubbed his pecs, which felt great by the way. “And you have an incredible body. Did I say that yet?”

  He twisted around on the couch. “Hey now,” he chuckled, doing the Howard Stern imitation.

  I leaned back up and resumed rubbing his head, then started working on the back of his neck. “I’m serious, dude. You got one hot bod. You look great in jeans. Would rather see you out of them, but you look great in ‘em.”

  “Ahh, so it’s just physical attraction, huh,” he said with mock hurt.

  “Oh Matty, no. Sometimes peoples’ personalities just click. I know when it clicked. For me at least.”

  “Yeah? When?”

  “When I first got here and we were upstairs when everyone was in the hot tub? You and I looked at each other then climbed in fully clothed. I know that we were already wet from the rain, but it was like I’d known you forever, like we were in sync. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt more at ease being around someone. Ever. You gotta great sense of humor, and you get mine, which a lot of people don’t.” I had to laugh a bit at this. “You’re not too wound up—you don’t take things too seriously, but you can be serious. You exude this feeling of self confidence.”

  “Exude.” he said, looking up and smiling.

  I pinched his nose so he couldn’t breathe. “Hey, I don’t always talk like a bumpkin,” I released his nose. He just smiled and closed his eyes.

  “Dude, don’t stop with the head.”

  “Hey, when can I work on the other one.” He laughed at that. “I had to ask.”

  “Go on, you were singing my praises.”

  I sighed. “Man, I’m having a hard time here.” And I was. I was sporting wood like you wouldn’t believe.

  “What? Thinking of reasons why you like me?”

  “No. I’m having a hard time because I really want to head south” I said and I put both of my hands on his chest and started sliding them down toward his stomach. He laughed and grabbed my forearms.

  “Martin, cameras,” he said.

  I sat back up and caught my breath. “I’m dyin’ here Matt. Fuckin’ cameras.”

  “Now you know why I’m glad I have a blanket on,” he said, smiling.

  “Hmmm.” I looked at where his crotch would be. Dammit, it was hidden by the blanket. Frig!

  “That’s how talented you are with your hands,” he went on.

  Oh God! “Ok, back to what makes you my type of guy. There’s just something in me, in my gut, that tells me it’s okay to be myself around you. I feel like I want to be my best around you. And you know what?” I said, thinking.

  “What?”

  I chuckled a bit. “I feel safe around you.”

  He looked up at me. “Why’s that funny?” H
e was more curious than anything.

  “I guess I never thought this way before but I get the feeling that you’ve got my back.”

  “Hmm, that sounds good,” he said as he reached up and pinched my nipple.

  I slapped his hand away and said in a nasally, mocking voice, “Cameras!” at which he laughed.

  “Seriously, though,” I continued, “I just feel…well…safe around you. I don’t really know how to explain it. I’ve never felt that way before; it’s kinda nice. I feel…I don’t know…protected. And you know something else?”