Angel on a God-forsaken Cinema
If only you were good-looking enough, then you'd have him? But, you're an ordinary face, a man (confused man that is) who fell in love with another fellow. At a young age of nineteen, you rebelled against convention. You're gay. Pain was meant to be your destiny. (That's how you perceived it, but why would I?)
After being stood up by a date for the tenth time for the week, you wanted an escape. An escape or some sort of release, sexual release. So, you'd go to the usual God-forsaken cinema in this hidden alley of the city. You'd seduce another hungry gay, suck or get sucked until you're drained. You called this an escape. But, you felt hell. This flow of the blood in your veins was the only way for you to release the tensions that built up beneath your skin. Satisfied? You were never happy.
But, today was different from the rest days. Today, you saw the angel of your dreams. While you were waiting for a worthy sucker, he stood at the end of the column where you sat. He's spellbinding. You felt neither lust nor desire for his meat. What you felt is pure admiration, affection, and love with no strings attached.
You accepted him as consolation for the other guy who had just stood you up. In the middle of the darkness, the moaning of sucking gays, the grunting of masturbating men, and a cheap pornography film, his face gleamed showing light to your desperate needs. He had a smile of a prince, a face of an angel, and a body of a god. You could not ask for anything more but to have him as your lover and you to love him. You dreamt of sleeping with him and waking up in the morning with him by your side.
You were conjured back from your fantasy as he sat beside you. He looked at your face. You looked at his. He smiled. He touched your cheeks and he smiled some more. He whispered you sweet nothings and kissed your lips with utmost tenderness you always longed. In this scorching hell, you felt the caress of paradise through his fingertips. You loved him instantly. You fell for his eyes and his gaze, his face, his hand and his touch, his smile, and his lips.
You asked for his number. He gave it and he asked for yours. His voice serenaded you with a music you craved. Both of you sealed your affection with a kiss. The tender lips of your angel touched by your lips. Everything was heaven, a dream came true.
He started to woo you with stories of his life and his baritone voice. A voice that echoed right through your heart. You nodded your head with anticipation and eagerness. You concentrated on his voice and its deep, charming tone. You observed the movement of his mouth when he talked. He was mesmerizing. His perfect face gleamed in the dark. His smile marked joy. You didn't care for anybody except him. Men around you looked at the two of you. Were they envious or jealous? They should be. You couldn't find an angel in this God-forsaken place…
Ring. Ring. A phone call? For whom? For him? Who was it?
"Hello, honey," he smiled faintly while he still looked at you. "I'm watching a movie. Don't worry, I'm still thinking about you…" said he. You looked at him with an expressionless face. This was worse than being stood up. You quickly got up from you're seat. He followed you immediately putting the phone down. Your heart shattered when that phone rang. You never want to look back. He caught up and grabbed your arm, "Sorry, I should've told you. If I'm single, believe me we could be together. I really liked you." But, pain, frustration, and desperation deafened you. You looked at him with still an expressionless face. Were all these lies? The kisses were nothing. The love was implied. This heaven was imagined. Nothing in here was real.
You removed his grasp from your arm. Tears welled up your eyes as you moved away. You ran. As you ran out of the cinema passing by the groans, the moans, and the dark, you wanted to escape the cruelty of reality. You ran as fast as you could. You couldn't breathe. Your broken heart ached. You liked him. But, he's taken. He's not for you. You ran as fast as you could to breakout.
If only you're good-looking enough? You believed that because you're gay? You believed that because you were stood up? Leave hell with those who stood you up, with that guy (if indeed, he didn't care). Listen to me. Pain would never ever be your destiny. Stop, please. Slow down, don't cross the street yet the light just turned green, or you'd get…
If only you saw how he cried for your dead body. If only you saw how he shouted his grief, his regrets. If only you got his name instead of being a nameless face in the grieving crowd. You lay on the ground, lifeless. You escaped reality but reality grieved. In your memory laid memories of the moans, the grunts, the dark, and the face. As your angel from the God-forsaken cinema walked away with tears flowing down his cheeks, you lay on the ground with your eyes peered at the dark clouds as rain started to pour.