MY EYES HAVE CHANGED

               is skipping a bad idea?   probably.  maybe not as much for max       he ALWAYS manages to talk his way out of these things       but for rudy….     well, max isn’t going to be the one making him go anywhere.   a terrible influence, really.    desperate  &  eager,  he presses his lips into rudy’s,   presses him back against the seat         then he’s back to his neck, kissing down it fervently.   “ yes.    skipping, please. ”     then,  if they stay in the parking lot, they’ll certainly get caught.    oh so reluctantly he leaves a parting kiss on his boyfriend’s neck, sits back.    “ where do you want to go? ”

    he might be, oh, just a little out of breath. the kind of effect his boyfriend’s got on him. but even when lips part, he keeps his head cold, just for a bit longer. cold enough to leave his hand on max’s thigh, he could tell his mom he’d felt sick, later, just in case the school had smething to say. not as if he did that often. but now was not the time to think about it. “ dunno. does it matter ? ” a sigh, and a hand sliding a bit higher. “ oh, wait - we can get starbucks first ? maybe ? that’d be really nice. ” and if he could get breakfast out of it ( a second one ) he surely wouldn’t say no. “ please ? “ really, even if he’d gotten used to max buying him small things, he couldn’t forget how to be polite. god knew the first part already took him long enough, but it was flattering, really. and a nice change from having to count change every time he wanted a drink. no class, something hot ( his boyfriend ), and something hot ( tea. or chocolate. not sure yet. ), the morning could only be grand. 

                                                                 indie max berber & rudy hennings                                                                          penned by lexie & lottie

               he wasn’t expecting the reaction.  perhaps he should have but  he HOPED for a slap on the wrist,  brush it off,  let him keep on being an idiot  & pay it no mind.   then, he can’t say he minds rudy on top of him so much.  still,   though he loves the kisses & the heat,  even through them he can’t help but think of which excuse to use.    well i was only joking.  how am i not supposed to look at his cock when it’s out like that?  i’m sorry.   “ well,  he could be looking for a threesome.  do you think we should ask? ”    he’s joking  &   can only hope he doesn’t accidentally make it worse.    the words are  s t u p i d  but he still tilts his head,  threads fingers through the other’s light hair,  and        well,  if rudy was trying to get his eyes off other men, it certainly worked.

         “ why, you’re looking for one ? ” the voice is stern here, and he’s too busy kissing his neck to look him in the eye. he knows him. he knows he says stupid things sometimes. he takes them with him. loves them with him. as long as he’s not serious - doesn’t act upon it. it’s good. he’ll deal. he’ll even laugh with him. criticize boys with him. cocks and asses and all. none of them look as handsome as his max. ( and all of them draw the light to them better than himself. ). for now it’s just words. just a joke. one he’ll get his mind off really soon, hopefully. for now - he’s looking at him. and really, that’s all he wants. another kiss. “ didn’t we say no more after the last guy you picked up ? ” and even if keep it light, there’s something bitter laying behind those words. oh, he’s easy to forget, he knows. but he’ll fight for max. for his attention. and so far, there’s been nothing wrong. not really. who could blame him for a look ? and rudy's willing to forgive anything, only to be looked at like this just a little longer.   

              “ you are boring sometimes! “ comes the girlish giggle from the singer, grinning wide. in the end, she stands herself up shakily and totters over to the table, grabbing her bottle to swig from, then leans against the furniture, “ i’m fine, darling, i wo – go on stage thi- this way ALL the time! honestly, it makes it more fun. “ a pause ensues, looking at herself in a nearby mirror and clamping a hand over her mouthto mask another giggle, “ oh, dear.. you’re right! i have no idea where any of it could be.. “ dramatic as ever, sally throws herself into a chair with her bottle. 

          “ i am. who cares ? i don’t want to lose my job. and you don’t either. “ he could’ve gotten offended. would’ve. could’ve argued. but now is not the time, and he needs that job. needs money for groceries ( and dance classes, real ones ). leaning against the door frame, more than ready - not dressed enough, he can’t help but roll his eyes. “ you're impossible. ” and he grabs the bottle from her slender fingers. “ sally. go get it. ” a sigh. and a smile. oh, maybe max will come today. maybe he’ll wait for him to get home. and maybe he’s getting lost in his thoughts - just a bit. 

‘what’s your name? mine’s myr.’

              ‘ do i ? really, what gave it away ? ‘ the costume. if you could call that a costume. here’s ( surely ) what the answer was. then he’s not supposed to be wearing his glasses with it. then, he’s on break, and can’t see farther than his feet without those. then he shouldn’t be at the bar on his break - but really, not his fault if two guys are fucking in his dressing room. but with his words, there’s a bit of a laugh, sliding past his lips. he doesn’t have the chance to laugh with people often here, but that girl seems nice enough. he’s always been one for some conversation. especially when she wasn’t about to try and get in his pants. for once he’s just there, in the room, not the dancefloor, for no real reason. nobody’s requested his, well, company. those guys liked the lack of a real costume. had to have what they paid for. ‘ myr ? that’s a bit of a unique name. your first time here ? ‘ ladies came, sometimes. a few each day. to drink. see the show. why wouldn’t they be able to, after all ? they were the ones with the best conversation anyway. ‘ and rudy, here’s the name.’ soon he’d have to be back on stage ( still without having eaten ). but for now, nothing could keep him from a little distraction. a little conversation - one that’d be almost - well, normal. that’d be nice.  

                                 “ i sa – i say! i say, won’t you pass me that bottle? “

           “ say it as much as you want, sally, i won’t - you’re completely wasted.  “ not a word above the other. he’s used to it. “ you can’t be like that on stage. and we have to get there in in two. get yourself to-aren’t you missing some bits to your costume ? ”

[[ “Sorry, I’m a long way from home. I guess I’m still adjusting. Getting a feel… Is it always like this? So BUSY?” ]]

         his sign is broken, really. but he tries, still. never would’ve guessed he’d use it out of class, after so many years. “ berlin ? yes. of course. it’s why it’s so good. how is it - where you’re from ? ” and he watches them go, through the window of some bar. he loves it all too much - the noise, the people, everything, everywhere, that never stops moving. sure, it can be annoying at night, when the people above won’t sleep and there’s still cars down the street honking. but it’s the city, its whole atmosphere. “ i’m not from here either. but i never had to adapt. i just - ” there’s no word ready. “ dived into it all at once. ”

Louise Glück, The Burning Heart

@secondticket​​ |  starter call

              “ not half as good as the other one ... who’s not a fifth as gorgeous as you. ” a laugh. how ridiculous must they sound now, by the river. half naked queers juding other half naked queers. “ i’m horrible at math. but he’s looking at you now. kiss me. ”

                 she’s  USED to people wanting to copy her notes. with the amount she’d had to write to communicate, her handwriting was by far the neatest in the class.   ‘ I  suppose, ‘  she signs, nearly a drawl,   ‘ I’d  have thought english lit would be one of your better subjects. ‘

         and he’s the one laughing now. “ it is. they all have to be my better subjects if i want to get into a good dance school anyway. which is stupid - but - whatever. “ hands cut it all off, just the time to grab a bottle of water. a bit of a pause, when he’d have kept talking usually. it’s an awkward rhythm for a conversation still for him, a bit unnatural, but he’s getting used to it, slowly, even when most of his sentences are still mouthed, just a little simcom, until he can do better. “ sorry. i skipped this morning. i’m offended you didn’t notice, rude. “

               if he’s hiding something, she certainly doesn’t notice it.    though the teen doesn’t seem so eager to share either;  giving a shrug at his question as she buys time her way, raising a cigarette to her lips.   “ nothing i’m not used to, ”  she tries casually, letting the smoke billow from between delicate lips.  “ men are predictable.    are you okay? ”

           “ yeah, of course i am. nothing to worry about.  ”    too many words. shut up rudy. don’t start going on about how alright everything is, when it is not, when you wouldn’t be here if it was. anyone in their right mind would notice that.  but still, even without her questions, she’s the one worrying him. an abused shell hiding behind smoke. he’d been that person too, back in berlin. he almost regrets that time. at least he didn’t have to run ( but he didn’t have max. ). didn’t have love. now, he could at least hold onto that. or what was left of it, what hadn’t slipped away already. and half a laughs slips past his lips too. a little too dry. but it’s been too long since he last laughed, he can barely remember it.  “ they are - till they can’t be. ” so young, yet she couldn’t be more right, especially those men who bought. ( oh, all of them were. he must be too. ). “ would you mind sharing ? ” a vague gesture towards her cigarette. something slow, ridiculously imprecise. and he used to call himself a dancer. well, not with those feet. not with those shoulders. not anymore. never again. “ my... partner left with mine. ” partner. friend. whatever. max wouldn’t approve, when he thought out every word that got out of his pretty mouth. to rudy it was just a word. nothing more than a few sounds. it couldn’t mean much without gestures, without touch. and he wasn’t here to hear, “ you did good, getting away. you’ll be better far from guys like this. they’re only good at using, not at caring. it’s all - touching and hollow words “ and as long as he talks about her, about them, there’s no word of him, or his ‘partner’. he can’t help but think max would be proud ( hadn’t he already slipped.  if max ever cared again, which he was starting to doubt. or maybe his mind was just getting as blurry as his sight. sometimes he found himself wondering if maybe, max was one of them. of those who did not love. but still, he couldn’t let himself believe that. just like he couldn’t let himself miss berlin -- or some other home. )

@secondticket / starter call

     a last breath of his cigarette, before he crushes it in the tray. burning ashes, they had fallen on his skin, not too long ago. and he goes back to watering the closest plant. he wonders who told her that, who taught her that. even in his worst moments, he always knew just how wrong it was. ( then some didn’t know that intimacy was for love, that hurt had no place in an embrace. not even the very man who shared his bed. ) “ fuck. we’re getting you a gynecologist appointment. ” as well as the therapist she already was seeing. who cared if it ate up half of their budget. maybe someday she'd get better.