The Understudy
Warning: The usual disclaimers apply here. If you don't like any of the following, leave now: gay sex, vulgar or harsh language.
This story is a work of semi-fact, however some scenarios and situations have been adapted to make for a more interesting read.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
The lamp glew, illuminating the otherwise dark modest sized student room with a warm amber colour. It was silent other than the sound of my slim fingers tapping rigorously against the laptop keyboard. My eyes raced darted along the text document, it was almost as though I was possessed; completely immersed in the creation of this electronic text copy of my deepest thoughts, memories and philosophies. Hi, my name is Isaac, i'm 20 years of age, a Psychology undergraduate and a gay black man!
A minority within a minority. The words gay and black man tend to conjure up completely different connotations. On one hand the gay man, stereotypically effeminate, a sexual predator, sinful, weak. And on the other hand we have the black man, stereotypically strong, powerful, masculine emotionally discrete. Marrying the two can have dire consequences. But here I am, a gay black man. This is my life, a marriage of the two. Certainly not a marriage of convenience; an arranged marriage if you will, each party forced to love and live harmoniously over a lifetime, together. But what happens when the cracks in the relationship begin to surface and divorce is certainly not an option?
I once heard that to every human being there is the lead character and the understudy. The lead playing to a sold out theatre, playing he's character perfectly, it's he's job to please the crowd. Whilst the understudy silently watches and when the spectators have left; he plays to the empty venue quietly hoping that special someone shall notice him. Well this story where the understudy takes centre stage, my memoir, my chronicle, my 'married couples counselling', this is my story.
I sat there lamenting...
March 2008, three years ago. It was a harsh, grey rainy day. I stepped out onto the path; the same path which I walked for those five days a week. But this time was different. I didn't have to be here.
The path was long and almost looked endless. There were trees either side which ran along side the path framing the track. It usually looked picturesque; like a beautiful landscape painting. The sun's rays usually shimmering through the tree leaves causing them rustle and sway in the light breeze, illuminating the road below. But today was different the cold harsh wind roared as the relentless rain beat down on my whole body causing me to shudder. I was absolutely soaked through. My designer suit clung uncomfortably to my skin, restricting my movement. I loved my suit!
It was a pinstripe black two piece suit. It was the most expensive item in my wardrobe and I had to work for months to afford it. I loved the way I felt when I put it on and loved the attention, and looks I would receive whilst wearing it. But now it was in tatters and I knew it would take a couple of trips to the dry cleaners to get it back to its former glory, something which I was not looking forward to.
Questions began to circle around my head. Why was I here? Why was I walking this long road? I could've been on my way home in the relative comfort of the bus. Instead I had diverted; walking a route which was in the complete opposite direction to that of my house. The answer to these questions was walking right beside me, he's name was Sean.
As I looked to my right I stared at him. He's short hair which was usually a light chestnut had become a dark brown from the rain and now lay tousled flat on his head. He's emerald eyes glistened in the rain, looking onwards nonchalantly. A tiny smile graced he's lips. I would have given anything to know what he was thinking at that moment.
This was the path which lead to he's house. He had asked me to walk him home. Everyday after school I would always answer with a yes! Everyday I would hope and pray that maybe today would be the day something happened between us. A kiss, a hug even the slightest hint that he felt the same way about me as I did about him. I would stubbornly hold onto this blind, stupid hope.
As I stared at him my heart raced, butterflies filled my stomach; How could I feel so happy and yet so sad at the same time; How could I feel so close to someone and yet so distant. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but I was too ashamed. It was pathetic. He's straight. I kept telling myself he doesn't want you! But then there were times when he looked at me, and it would feel like he saw right through me, those stunning green eyes which burned through my soul setting my heart ablaze. Something about he's stare would make me question how he did feel about me. It was almost as though he was contemplating something and once again it would make me hope.
As we reached he's house it was time for us to part. This was the worst part of the walk, the moment that my hope died. He gave me a dazzling smile and thanked me for walking with him. I, in response faked a smile and said my goodbye. As we walked our separate ways, it felt as though my heart was breaking. We walking our separate physical ways was almost a metaphor for what was occurring emotionally in my head. We were indeed walking separate paths. As I walked away I could feel the spark of hope fading. My eyes began to well up. It wasn't so bad I thought; at least the rain would hide my tears. I sobbed uncontrollably, looking up at the dark, cloudy sky. It hurt so bad. Why did I have to be this way, why me!?
From that moment on I knew; I knew that this had to stop. I needed to stop being a fool. Why was I doing this to myself? Stop being so blind I told myself. Accept reality. From that moment I made a promise to never fall again and thus opened a new chapter in my life...