Sunrise Over The Beat (Part 1)

Normally, I avoid drama like a hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic avoids antidisestablishmentarianism. But sometimes I just can’t avoid it. Sometimes its kinda fun.

Yes, the names have been changed, but none of them are innocent.

The first two people I fooled around with on my arrival to Australia were Martin (the French kid) and Kyle at my res-college. Neither went all the way, and I figured they were both one-time things, considering that Martin was a virgin and Kyle was apparently cheating on his boyfriend with me. In fact, considering I spilled about me and Kyle before I knew he was in a relationship and accidentally put him on the rocks, I did my best to even avoid face-to-face contact.

This worked well most of the time, but every so often we’d accidentally sit at the same table at meals, or he’d show up to Carden Room. One particular morning I came in to find Martin chatting with Kyle on the couch. The conversation seemed pleasant with a twinge of awkward, to be expected for meeting strangers. I proceeded to chat with the two of them while avoiding eye contact with Kyle the best I could, hoping the conversation wouldn’t turn to me. For some reason, I didn’t want them to realize I’d hooked up with them both.

When Kyle left for class, I breathed a premature sigh of relief, only to be informed by an excited Martin that I’d misinterpreted their awkwardness. Turned out they’d hooked up themselves the night before. We had an amusing little triangle.

Now, I’ll be honest, I felt slightly jealous. Not because I’d still felt anything for Martin or Kyle, but because I could not longer harbor the illusion of them as “my conquests”. They’d been with each other, and I realized just how incestuous a small-city gay scene could be. I’d like to say my subsequent actions were with good intention, but in reality, this was probably the cause. However, despite nefarious impulses, it was probably better I did it in the long run; Martin was looking for a serious boyfriend, not hookups.

I said, “Kyle has a boyfriend, you know.”

Go ahead, bite my head off. I know it wasn’t my place to interfere. I know he needs to go through the hard knocks. I also know I couldn’t prove what I said. It was just impulsive.

Well, Martin seemed stunned and slightly in denial. “Kyle seemed like such a nice guy last night!” But he thanked me for my input, and we changed the subject.

That night, I couldn’t keep my trap shut. I walked up to Kyle after dinner, and said, “You know, we have something in common. The French boy.” He shrugged.
“You talking about Michael?” he asked, seemingly nonchalant.
“No, Martin.” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, I must have his name in my phone wrong then. Anyway, he’s more into me.”
I didn’t realize I came off sounding like I was still into Martin. Maybe I still was.
“You know, he’s not the type.” I offered. “He’s more into relationships.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kyle called back as he walked off. I’d hoped that’d be enough hint to not play around with Martin.

The next day, Martin told me proudly that he’d cancelled his date with Kyle. They’d had a date? That doesn’t sound like the clandestine hookup actions of a boy in a relationship… Did I just totally fuck up?

The next next day, Martin told me they’d had a chat, and he didn’t believe me anymore. The date was on again. This was probably the point where I should’ve shut the fuck up and kept my mouth shut.

Enter the weekend. Big res-college party. A college friend, Michelle, invited me out to a post-party with her friends. What she didn’t tell me was that she was bisexual and all her friends are gay. She had two friends with her, Andy and Michael, but I’m shit at putting faces with names, especially when I’m drunk. One of them was short and elfish, with a matching eyebrow piercing. The other was tall and quiet, not bad looking but still donning braces in his early 20’s. We mingled, and I became acutely aware of the tall one hitting on me, as much as Michelle denied it. But they decided to head home well before I was tired, and I would kick on to The Beat.

I waved goodbye to Michelle, the tall one who I’d come to know as Andy, and the elf, whom I’d come to know as Mike, and headed off to my old stalwart.

Instead, I found Pete dancing quite homosexually by himself. No shocker. However, in the corner of the dance floor, I found Kyle, dancing romantically/slutty with a boy I’d never seen before. However, from the way they were dancing, I assumed that was his boyfriend. We made eye contact, and I accidentally smirked. He returned with the finger. Taking that as a sign, I drunkedly texted Martin, telling him he was here right now with his boyfriend. Still couldn’t prove it.

My pocket vibrated minutes later with a text, but it wasn’t Martin’s reply. In fact, it was an unknown number. One of those two boys from tonight wanted me to come over. Confusing as fuck, but I eventually worked out it was Andy. The scuzzball had gotten my number from Michelle without even asking me. See, I told her he was into me!

However, I was inexplicitly grabbed with sudden hesitation. I didn’t want to go home with him, and I didn’t know why. I asked Pete for advice, but nothing helpful was forthcoming. So I stalled. And the messages piled up.

- So, are you coming?
- I live in the West End
- The 199 bus leaves in 10 minutes.
- Are you on the bus?
- Hey, if you take a taxi, I’ll split the fare with you.
- I’m so strung out right now.
- I’ve got some drugs left if you wanna share.
- C’mon, are you coming?!

I was sufficiently weirded out, but decided to stop being a big pussy and just fuck him. But I never made it out the door. I sat at the bar for a final drink, purposefully next to a rather cute blond guy. I just have a thing for blonds. Mind you, I figured this guy was well out of my league, but I might as well chat for a bit. After all, I’ll get laid either way.

Surprisingly, he seemed kind of into me. Despite being queeny to a point that usually bothers me, I found him fun to talk to. We hit it off pretty well. His name was Chris.