Sunrise Over The Beat (Part 2)

Chris was in the middle of telling me about the 34 boys who currently want him (was he counting me?), when I realized he kept getting fresh drinks without putting down any money. It was the same bartender each time, a man in his late 20’s with a pretty good body but a mediocre face. And glitter.

“Oh, he’s Ash”, said Chris. “He’s been after me for weeks. But I might just give it to him, he’s pretty persistent and I’ve gotten a lot of drinks… here, you want some?” He slid his gin and tonic over to me before I could answer. Ash shot me a dirty look, but gave Chris a new drink anyway.

Chris tried his drink, but made a sour face. “I guess they ran out of the good gin. You can have this one too.” I tried a sip, but didn’t drink it further. It tasted oddly salty. Did Bartender Ash just try to spike his drink with GHB? Was I an unwitting participant in a failed daterape attempt?

In the meanwhile, I’d received 3 new messages from Andy. I just ignored them.

Sunrise at The Beat. Here’s a sight you just don’t want to see. A gay club is meant to be shrouded in darkness, and the full sunlight just exposes its ugliness. But Chris wanted a last minute cigarette on the club patio, and I was still amused enough to hang around, despite realizing long ago I didn’t have a chance with him. Afterwards, we went for McDonald’s breakfast. Chinatown, Saturday morning, 6am, hotcakes. I was completely sexless, yet knew I’d made the right choice.

I was about to make for the bus stop, when who comes around the bend but Ash and a lady friend. He gives me another dirty look. Looking to score brownie points, he offers to drive Chris home. However, with lady friend in tow, its not like he’s getting any right now. So, to be the gentleman, he offers to drop me off downtown so I can get a bus home.

Chris lives in Nundah, a far north suburb. Ash must really want sex. However, considering I’d never been in the north suburbs, it was a pleasant ride. I realized just how sprawled the city was; despite having only 1 million people, you can drive an hour in any direction from downtown and still be within the incorporated suburbs.

With Chris gone, me and Ash actually had a good conversation. He wasn’t as resentful at my presence as he looked, and with the bartender persona dropped, he was a fairly likable guy. He must’ve liked me too, because when we got back downtown, he kept driving, intending to take me right back to the university. However, he was taking a strange route…

I began to panic. Dude, without the GHB, its just flat-out rape!

My fears were short-lived. We arrived at university… sort of. “We’re here!” he announced, as he pulled into the driveway of QUT, the Queensland University of Technology. “Err… but I go to UQ.” I reluctantly informed him, quickly adding my willingness to take the bus from here. But he was kind enough to drive me back to the right uni, as long as I could give him directions.

I only gave him the wrong turn twice, and I was home by 7:30. I was only out drinking for 12 hours. Good effort. But, isn’t hitchhiking home with strange gay bartenders who may or may not have been drink spiking exactly why my mom didn’t want me to go to New Zealand by myself?

The next day, I regaled Michelle with the whole story of her creepy braces friend and the bizarre bartender.

“Mike”, she corrected me. “You’ve got their names mixed up.” Ah well, I had a 50/50 chance. I dutifully corrected his name in my phone.

Monday rolls by, and Martin is pissed. Seems rather than being grateful, he was upset by my text that night. He’s getting tired at the conflicting stories and he said/she said (Well, both he. Hurray gay drama!). He’s already cut off contact with Kyle, and is now even threatening to cut me off if I don’t stop trying to protect and baby him. Ok, now’s the time that I actually shut the fuck up. Mission accomplished, I suppose. Glad that’s all behind me.

We later make up, but there’s no kissing involved. In fact, he’s now in a stable relationship with I boy I’ve never met. For the better, I suppose.

Before I know it, it’s the weekend again. Going out with Jess for her birthday. Seems safe enough, there’s no way I’m going to have drama with a lesbian. Well, bisexual, but she’s already dating Tom.

“Scott, can you convince Michelle to have a threesome with me and my boyfriend?” My jaw drops. Exactly when did I open shop on my threesome broker business? Can I make good money this way? I give her a definite maybe, that I think about it when I see her next.

Which was in about 20 minutes. Our party kicked on from Alibi Room to Ric’s, which is Michelle’s favorite haunt. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see her there. Fuck me in the goat ass!

Luckily, Jess was getting tired early, and she and most of her entourage decided to drop off early. That just left me with Michelle and her gay friends. A bisexual boy named Chris, who she wanted to get with (then again, as would I), a drama fag named Paul wearing what appeared to be striped spandex pants (I didn’t hold that against him, he was still cute), and Braces Boy, who I’d now correctly identified as Michael. After his onslaught of creepy messages last Friday, I really didn’t want to be alone with him, but the three of them seemed to give us every opportunity. Drinks, bathroom, say hi to friends, ect. Bullshit, I’m telling you. I bet he asked them to do it. But, I tried to be as civil as I can, which usually just resulted in awkward silences.

I did however get the chance to invite her to Jess’s threesome. She freaked, and made me promise I never asked. Great. How is it possible for me, a gay man, to get involved in lesbian drama?

It’s not polite to butt in on your hostess’s man-meat, so I focused my efforts on Paul, who was always off somewhere else anyway. But as the night continued getting later, and the 3am lockout approached, it was decision time. Michelle and Chris decided to go home (l’chaim!), so Paul, Mike, and I decided to back to The Beat. At which point Paul promptly vanished. In the long run, this was good, as I could focus all my strained conversation with Mike into finding Paul. However, disappointing to me as it was, we eventually had to give up on Paul if we wanted to make the lockout.

Michelle texted me a few minutes after lockout. Apparently, right after Paul said he was coming with us, he found a friend and went off to chat with him, basically standing us up.

This night was feeling familiar. Pete was back, and so was Kyle. However, as much as I silently prayed, neither left us alone. Pete just wanted to size up ‘the creepy braces boy’, but hid his ulterior motives well before shuffling off. Not the case with Kyle.

He rocked up to us in a drunk swagger, and greeted me with exaggerated saccharine. I don’t know Kyle and Mike’s history, but I bet it was dark. Kyle talked right at me, seeming to ignore Mike’s very existence. “Hey Scott, how’s your night?... So, have you had sex with Michael yet?” Mike just stared up at him with wide-eyed stupification. I gritted my teeth. “No, not yet. You?” He just shrugged. Luckily, Pete had been watching this whole affair, and intervened just then to drag the drunken Kyle off to dance.

“Do you think he was talking about me?” he asked, looking genuinely upset. I was honest, admitting I don’t know any other Mike. In retrospect, my answer was just as bad as his question, but in my mind, Mike was still the creepy text message braces boy.

We spent awhile long chatting and dancing. In person, he was actually kind of a sweet guy, not-so-subtly hinting he had a crush on me. And I could probably overlook the braces. Maybe I would sleep with him after all. When he invited me to crash at his place at the West End, I took him up on his offer, and we made our way to the door...