Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 14
This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.
The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.
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Chapter 14--A Night at the Opera
"Holy shit Chris, you look way too hot." Chet exclaimed as Chris opened the door to his apartment. "No one will be looking at the stage; you'll be the star."
Cynthia, when Chris told her about going to the opera, thought it a good opportunity to test run one of the new designs--to see if he could create a buzz. She put Chris in cobalt blue slacks, that fit tight until just below the knees. A plum-colored leather strip ran down the sides. The jacket was also tight fitted cobalt blue satin cut in front to just above the navel and the back into a modified tail. The jacket had an embossed pattern that reminded Chris a little like toilet paper. Plum edging was on the wide lapels and the cuffs. He wore a magenta French cuff shirt the buttoned on the side, so the front of the shirt was flat. She lent Chris platinum cuff links with large alexandrines surrounded by diamonds. The shoes were open-toed paten leather slippers worn with no socks. The final touch was a traditional bow tie, except paisley in shades of purple, pink and grey. She had insisted that Chris not wear underwear because she wanted no panty line. She made sure the pants were tailored so his prosthetic would be secure and slightly accentuate his bulge. His hair was fresh cut in an asymmetrical style that played against one ear and would drift over one eye. Chris had never felt so first class.
"Not too shabby yourself," Chris replied. "Didn't know a cop could go Ritz."
Chet laughed, "We are both a surprise. Didn't want to embarrass you with handcuffs hanging from a back pocket."
"Might be interesting, but you would never be an embarrassment. But you do look very sensational, fabulous, and too marvelous for words." Chet bowed politely.
"We are not going on your motorcycle?" Chris asked, suddenly concerned.
"No, no holds barred tonight. I need to impress you that I am not really a jerk, so there is a limo waiting."
Chris squinted his eyes, "You can afford opera tickets and a limo on a policeman's salary?"
"I'm frugal, and I need to impress my hot date." Chet's smile said that Chris did not understand the entire situation. "Got money from outside my job, legally." He walked around Chris, "You are one hot man; Shall we depart, sir? I have dinner reservations since the opera does not start until 8" He took Chris's arm to the awaiting limo. Benjie was watching from the front window of the deli and gave Chris thumbs up.
Chet was out to impress Chris, and he was succeeding diner with Tavern on the Green and center row seats at the Met.
"Diner was impressive," Chris said.
"It was good, but the original ambiance is missing. Most of the original art and fixtures were sold when the Tavern closed in 09. Just glad you enjoyed it."
"I've read about the place but never thought I would eat there." Chris grabbed Chet's hand and put it between both of his. "How did you get these seats? I mean center center."
"My mother has season tickets. I told her that a needed to make amends to a grievous injustice. She just kissed me and handed me the tickets."
"You and your mother close?"
"Very close to both my parents. They are very supportive of my career choice, although I think my dad would like something safer. But..." The lights dimmed and the overture to Cavalleria Rusticana began with soft strings and harp and then the tenor, plaintive. Chris settled into his seat ready to lose himself in the music and sights of grand opera.
The intermission came far too fast for Chris, and Chris dried his eyes. "I know it is opera, but can't they every have happy endings?"
"There are a few with happy endings," Chet comforted Chris, enjoying doting. Let's get something to drink, "Viva, il vino spumeggiante", some bubbly or wine?
"You do know that I am under age?" Chris gave Chet a firm look.
"Only in years Chris laddie, a mere technicality. Besides, I saw the video where Jazzabel proclaimed you of age. Her pronouncement supersedes any mortal law."
Patting Chet's chest, Chris laughed, "A glass of wine would be welcome."
Chet led Chris to an elevator that said Metropolitan Opera Club Members Only. Chris gave Chet a curious glance but entered the elevator and rode to the fourth level. The elevator opened to a large room with a massive chandelier that reminded Chris of an exploding star. Over the bar, which was moderately busy was what Chris thought might be a Chagall. Chris gathered several stares, some of them hostile. "Am I welcome here?"
"You're with me, I am a Junior Member and my mother has been a subscribing member for two decades as were her parents. The only issue is that you do not have on a black tie."
"Black tie?"
"Required of members, unless it is Monday, then white." Chet laughed and patted Chris's shoulder in reassurance, "They are a bunch of fuddy duddies that need to lighten up. You look absolutely stunning. Did you notice how many people are looking at you?"
"Yea, because I feel out of place."
"Never out of place. You are the place, and I am merely an accessory." He gave Chris a kiss on the cheek. My mother already texted me once about the gossip."
"This is all so new to me. Two weeks ago, I lived on the street." Chet gave Chris a double look but decided not to follow through.
"Shall I start calling you Eliza?" Chet laughed, "You definitely belong here. Want a drink?"
"Yes, white wine?" Chris asked shyly, uncertain if he should.
"Chardonnay or a sauvignon blanc?"
"Don't know the difference," Chris grinned, "Something light and lemony. My mother always served Chablis, like it was the only variety."
"Got it." Chet looked at Chris, wondering what his story was because Chris was too poised and considerate to really spent time on the street. "Keep the bees away while I am gone because I hear their buzzing." Chris laughed as Chet made his way to the bar.
Chris suddenly knew what Chet meant. People would amble by him give him an appraising smile. He was startled when one woman circled close around him. "Love your cologne," she said as she dipped her nose into Chris's neck and then nonchalantly walked away. Two guys approached Chris about the tux and where did he find it; they also commented on the fragrance.
"Hi Chris," a voice startled Chris from behind, "fancy meeting you here." It was Derick Gordon and the others from Saturday. "Didn't know you were a member, didn't know you liked opera."
Chris gave a pleasant but guarded smile, "Not a member. Here with a friend who is. But I love opera. It is so grand." That produced a chuckle. "so nice to see you again Derick, and you too Michelle, Dee Dee, and Derrek." Polite kisses from Michelle and a handshake from Derrek-the other.
"Are you enjoying the opera?" Michelle asked.
"Yes, very much, thank you." Chris enthusiastically replied "Not the grand operas like Aida, Semiramide, or Turandot, but more like a confrontable sweater on a cold night."
"First time at the Met?" Derrek-the other asked.
"Yes, it is an impressive building, I would go to the Civic Opera House in Chicago with my mother, which is impressive but not like this. I hope to see La Scala when I am in Milan later this year." Chris added the last as a jab at what he felt was a tone of condescension.
"Excuse me gentlemen," Michelle interrupted, "I see some people I simply must say hi to." Michelle eased away with Dee Dee in tow.
Derick moved in closer to Chris, putting one arm around his shoulder. "I am very pleased to see you again. You and Jazzabel put on a great show Saturday. How long did you practice?"
Chris gave a saccharine smiled, "It was all improv. I knew nothing about anything until I was on stage."
"You're shitting me." Derrek the Other said, quickly glancing around to see if anyone noticed his language.
"Took me totally by surprise." Chris smiled benignly back.
"You are a very talented young man." Derick's hand slid from Chris's shoulder to hip. "I am sure that your talents rest in many areas."
"I am sure in many that you will never discover." Chris replied frigidly.
"I would be love to discover new things about you Chris, you fascinate me." Derick's smile was predatory.
"I prefer to keep people fascinated by hiding the naked me. It keeps people interested; don't you agree?" Chris turned to Derrek the Other. "Things which fascinate once explored are boring."
"Very true, Chris," Derrek the Other smiled at Chris, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, "I remember a wine--I think it was a Beaujolais nouveau--that everyone was raving about. It was sold out in most stores, so I ordered a case from France. I served it at an open house. Everyone raved about how wonderful it was, but I found it watery."
"See, that is exactly my point Derick." Chris turned back to Derick, gently removing his hand, "I do not want to be your Beau," Chris paused briefly, "jolais," Chris patted Derick's now detached hand "nouveau." Derrek the Other chuckled, but it was quickly stifled by a glare from Derick.
"Here is your wine," Chet pushed himself between Derick and Chris.
Chris took the glass and tasted, "This very good."
"Fume Blanc," Chet responded, but keeping a cautious eye on both gentlemen.
"I don't think we have had the pleasure," Derick stated coolly.
"I'm so sorry for the breach." Chris smiled at Chet "This is ...."
"Hi, I'm Chet Donaldson." He extended a hand to both men.
"Pleased to meet you Chet," Derrek the Other warmly said, "I'm Derrek Lovejoy and this is Derick Gordon. Yeah, both the same first name. It can be confusing, but then how many John Smiths are there in the world?" He gave an easy laugh.
"You a member of the Opera Club?" Derick asked suspiciously
"Junior member since I was 11," Chet smile back, "Mom's a subscribing member as were her parents." Chris tried not to smirk.
"I love your tuxedo," Derrek the Other said changing the topic.
"I started working for Silent Models on Monday. This is a new line and the first public showing."
"It is very fetching on you Chris," Derick affirmed, "but your tie is not black."
"I hear that some species of penguins are going extinct because of changes in the weather." Derrek the Other laughed.
"I can forgive the breach of custom by one so beautiful as Chris. Is it not the man under the clothes that is important?" Derick said.
"I think what one finds under the clothes is always more important. What Chris has under his clothes, is a lot of talent," Chet paused to give Derick a thin smile. "And he needs to share his talent with the world. A black tie would be a travesty to this ensemble, It would mar the beauty that underlies the garment." Chet ran a light hand across Chris's arm.
Derick took a small step back to look at Chet and Chris together. "You are right about the tie. Damn tradition when it flouts beauty. `A thing of beauty is a joy forever.'"
"'Beauty is truth and truth beauty,'" added Chet. "I have found that my truth is his real beauty." The lights dimmed and rose.
"Time to take our seats," Chris said irritated at being the topic of the conversation.
"I have been asking Chris to attend one of my parties, he is reluctant. Perhaps both of you could come. It will be a fun evening." Derick said glancing from Chris to Chet.
"We would love too," Chet quickly answered and then turned to Chris with a look that said we will.
"Great, very great." Derick beamed, "I'll contact Chris as to when." Derick turned to leave.
"I will text you this week." Derrek the Other said, "We need to talk real estate. I'll explain when we talk." With that Derick the Other left.
Chris rounded on Chet, "Why in hell did you say we would go to one of Derick the Prick's parties? I have heard that they boarder on a debauched orgy."
"I know, but I will explain later."
Chris was in tears by the end of Pagliacci. Chet had his handkerchief ready. Once they were in the limousine, Chet asked, "Do you forgive me for being an ass the other night?"
"How can I not, except you agreed for us, us, to go to Derick the Prick's party. You did not even ask me. Why?" Chris landed Chet with an icicle stare. "It better be good because the old behavior has just been replaced with new behavior for my fuck you list."
"I'm sorry Chris to put you on the spot, but I cannot explain right now."
"When?"
"Not sure." Chet sank back into the seat because he might lose Chris's friendship again. "Tell me what you have heard about Mr. Gordon's parties?"
"Mr. Gordon, the man who wants me as an appetizer at an all you can eat buffet."
"You got that part right. What else."
"Lots of sex, some of sharing, some of kinky, a healthy supply of drugs, I assume marijuana and maybe coke."
"Yes to all of that is the rumor, and more."
Chris looked at Chet, "Oh," and settled back into the seat.
"What can I do to make up for our date with Derick?" Chris sat forward with a mischievous smile. "Damn, I opened myself for that."
"I would love another ride on the motorcycle and burgers at the biker bar."
"That was easier than I expected, I thought maybe cleaning toilets for a month."
"Can I change my mind?" Chris's laugh sparkled as he moved closer to Chet.
"No, no way. I'm off Saturday, that good?"
"That is good with me. 4:30 okay?"
They arrived at Chris's apartment. As Chris slid out of the limo, Chris asked if Chet wanted to come up for a drink. Chet declined saying that the limo needed to be returned. Chet kissed Chris's hand and then the door to the limo shut and speed away. Chris was actually glad that Chet did not come up. It was past midnight and he had to work in a few hours. The thought of work warmed him as he carefully hung the tuxedo in the garment bag.