Adam
I was staring out the window for what could have been the hundredth time that day. A habit I often found myself doing wherever the words were struggling to come. I’d been calling myself a writer ever since I’d left college 5 years ago, but the truth is if it wasn’t for my evening job at ‘Le Savoureux’ restaurant, I’d be living on the streets right now. Not that my flat was anything special, but it was dry and safe, most of the time. I’d wanted to be a writer for as long as I could remember, it was all ever really enjoyed doing as a kid. While all the other kids were outside playing football, I was inside with my imagination building marvellous worlds with characters that were like me. The sort of stories I wish existed, but that I never found on the shelves of my local library.
I suppose I should tell you a little about me. My name is Adam and I’m a 23-year-old “writer” from London. Although I’ve had a few short stories published, I’ve by no means been successful. No teenager pictures themselves growing up to live alone, in a tiny one bed flat on the eighth floor of a tower block where the lifts are always breaking down. It would be very depressing if they did. I came out as gay to my parents when I finished college at 18, they disowned me and told me to ‘get out’, and I haven’t seen or spoken to them since.
After I was kicked out, my best friend Abigail was my saviour. She took me in and allowed me to sleep on her sofa. It was far from ideal but at least I had a roof over my head. Abi lived with her boyfriend Steven in a small one bed flat, but with me sleeping on the sofa the only space they had to be alone together was in their room. They were both too kind to say it, but I knew I was in the way. I heard them fighting in their room, it wasn’t about me, but I knew the 3 of us in such a tiny space was too much and Abi meant too much to me to risk her happiness.
Abi had been my best friend since we were 6, she was the first person I ever told when I realised, I was gay. Not that she needed to be told. I sat her down, nervous of how she might react with the most serious face she had ever seen me make. After a few deep breathes I told her and she burst out laughing and said, “Is that all? Jeez I thought you were dying or something.” I remember just looking at her shocked, of course she already knew. I could never keep anything from her, there was never a need to. She said she’d known for years and was just waiting for me to tell her. That was when I was 14, I’d not long been certain myself before then. She didn’t care and if anything, it made us even closer, if that was even possible. After ending up her doorstep after my parents kicked me out, there was never a question of could I stay, she knew I needed her and that was that.
Abi had been a massive help getting my life back on track, as well as the roof she put over my head, she put in a good word with her boss to get me a part the job at the restaurant she worked at. It wasn’t much but it was a start to getting my life back on track. After a few weeks of living with Abi and Steven, I found a charity that specialised in helping young LGBT people after they’d been rejected by those that were supposed to care for them. They helped me to get a flat of my own and offered all sorts of help with things that I had no idea I even needed. That was 5 years ago now and it feels like I’m stuck. I’m still in the same flat, I’m working at the same restaurant, albeit I’ve worked my way from a dishwasher at the bottom of the ladder up to be an assistant host, and I’m still alone.
I’ve not been alone this whole time, there have been a number of men over the years but none of them have stuck around for long. They have all only been interested in one thing, sex! And preferably with as many men as possible. Maybe I’m unusual for wanting a man that is interested in being with me and only me. Is that too much to ask for? Maybe I’m just doomed to be alone.
As I’m sitting looking out over the courtyard below, feeling sorry for myself, I see the latest man of my dreams. I don’t know his name, but I know he’s tall, with mousy blond hair and the most amazing muscles that look great both when he’s wearing his suits for work and in his more casual clothes. I’ve seen him around the building a few times, but I’ve never been brave enough to even say hello, let alone have a proper adult conversation with him. I assume he must work a 9-5 job in some office as he’s often coming home about the time I leave to get to the restaurant in the evenings. He’s early today though, its only 1 o’clock in the afternoon. I realise that probably makes me sound like some crazy stalker but when you spend your daytimes struggling to write, you tend to notice what’s happening outside your window. Maybe a little more than I perhaps should when that view is such a sexy sight.
Liam
‘Come on pick up the phone’ I muttered to myself as the phone rang & rang while I tried to get hold of Emily or her partner Sarah. Voicemail, again, “Emily, it’s Liam, again, the school have been in touch with me because they get hold of you or Sarah. Kayleigh’s sick and they need me to go get her. Where are you? Call me!”
I was supposed to be at work when Kayleigh’s school rang to say she wasn’t well and asked if I could come pick her up. Normally Emily and Sarah would take care of all this, sure I was part of Kayleigh’s life, I’m her dad after all, but she lives with her two mums. Emily has been my best friend for years and when her and Sarah got married, they asked if I would help them to have a child. We discussed how it work, with the three of us, as I was always going to be in Emily’s life and so it was only natural, I would be part of Kayleigh’s life too. I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
I can’t believe that was 7 years ago, Kayleigh is 6 now and she’s already such a bright and funny young girl. When we had that discussion I wasn’t sure how involved I would want to be in her life, but once I saw her for the first time, in Emily and Sarah’s arms, I knew I would be just as protective of her as both of these two incredible women that I was proud to call my family. As soon as she was old enough to talk, Emily became Mummy, Sarah became Mum, and they told her I was Dad. I welled up that day, I knew when they originally asked me that this wasn’t the plan, sure I’d be a part of Kayleigh’s life but I always thought they’d just want me to be Uncle Liam, but having a child together drew the 3 of us closer than ever before and when she was old enough to understand they asked me if that would be ok with me.
But today, neither of them is answering their phones so I’ve had rush home and pick up the car in order to go collect Kayleigh from school. I always got the train to the office, but I have to drive to get to Kayleigh’s school. I dash inside my flat, dump my jacket and tie on the sofa and grab the car keys from the bowl I keep them in on the side table. Within a few minutes I’m back out and down to the parking area at the back of my building.
I drive to the school and arrive at reception about an hour after they’d first rang me, I apologise for taking so long but it seems the receptionist isn’t that interested. She’s some old woman that clearly doesn’t want to help people, an odd choice for a receptionist. Once she’s had me sign in, she directs me down a corridor to the medical room where Kayleigh has been waiting. I see her through the window before she sees me and she looks so sad, with her head perched above a bowl that presumably the school had given her in case she is sick again. I walk in the room and her eyes light up, she’s so pleased to see me even though I can tell she’s still feeling poorly.
I bend down and stroke a couple of stray hairs out of eyes, “how you feeling kiddo?”. She manages a weak smile, but I can tell she just wants to get home and lie down. “I’ve come to take you home,” she doesn’t question where her Mums are, she just wants to go home. I take the bowl from her hands and put it down beside her before picking her up and carrying her back down the corridor towards reception. I hand back the badge to the woman at the desk, who makes a curt sound by way of reply, before heading out to get Kayleigh settled in the car. As we often go places together, I have a car seat already set up in the back of my car for whenever Kayleigh is with me, so I strap her in and start to drive back to my place.
It’s rare for Kayleigh to come to my flat, it’s usually easier for me to go to their home if I’m looking after Kayleigh, but this isn’t a normal situation. I drive carefully, aware that every bump in the road is making Kayleigh feel sick again. We make it to the parking area of my building, and all seems to be ok so far, or so I thought. I get out of the car and just as I’m unbuckling her car seat, that’s when Kayleigh is sick all down my shirt. It feels disgusting, but I try not to let her know that, it wasn’t her fault after all. She starts to cry, and still bend down at her level I tell her “It’s ok sweetie, it’s just a shirt, it wasn’t your fault”. To show her it’s all ok, I remove the stained shirt and toss it in the back of the car, I could deal with the later. “See, all clean now,” I say as I gently stroke her hair to soothe her. Her tears start to ebb and now in my white vest I pick Kayleigh up and head towards the building to carry her up to the flat.
Adam
Staying indoors all day wasn’t helping, when I get stuck with my writing like this sometimes the best thing to do is to go for a walk and get a change of scenery. Maybe something would spark my inspiration and help get me out of this current funk. For a change the lifts were working today, so I hope inside to head down to the ground floor. The lift doors open, and I step out.
Just as I’m starting to walk away, this strong, manly voice that made me feel weak at the knees bellowed out from behind me, “can you hold the lift doors for me please.” I quickly hold the lift doors and look to see who has called. It’s him, the mystery man from the courtyard, he’s in a vest and carrying a small child. I should have known a sexy guy like him must be married, and with a kid too. It was just my luck. I can’t help but stare at his sexy exposed biceps as he walks towards me. He brushes past me into the lift, and it takes all my strength not to turn and watch his ass as he enters.
“You wouldn’t mind pressing the 9 for me, my hands are a little full,” he asks me with an air of shyness about him, this gentle side of him, that doesn’t match his strong physique. It makes me want him even more. It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to me, I reach inside and press the button for the 9th floor. “Cheers,” he replied before the doors close and I’m left staring at them still in a state of disbelief at what I’ve just seen.
I snap out of it and go to head out for my walk, I keep replaying those few moments over in my head, the disappointment that he’s straight, the sexiness of his voice and his body, the gentle shy side of him when he asked for help. If Abi was here now, she’d tell me that if he’s straight I should just put him out of my mind. She’s seen it all before, me falling for the married men, the straight men, the downright awful men. She’s always been there to pick up the pieces of my rather disastrous love life, if you can call it that. But I’m sure this crush isn’t going to go away easily, no matter how much I try to take my mind off him, I keep picturing those strong arms wrapped around me.
I know it’s crazy, I don’t even know his name and yet he’s now occupying all my thoughts. If I was sensible, or had an ounce of self-respect, I would just see the fact he’s straight and move on. But I’ve wanted him for months, seeing him crossing the courtyard each day, and around the tower block, but that desire is even stronger now after seeing him without his shirt and hearing both his bold commanding voice and his soft gentle side. I’m picturing him taking charge in my bed but being so gentle with me at the same time. Feeling his body pressed against mine as he whispers sweet words in my ear.
These thoughts were not going to help get over him, or with giving me inspiration for my writing. Not unless I wanted to write something much more X-rated that most publishers would accept. I need to think of something else, anything else, but everything I try doesn’t work. My thoughts just come back to him.