What You Feel Is What You Are.

He was pressed against a pole when I found him. I really shouldn’t have been there, in that gay strip club, on that night, especially since my parents just passed away in a plane crash. I suppose it was just to take my mind off things.

I was leaning against the bar, sipping a G&T absently. I wasn’t – and still aren’t – a frequent visitor to these sort of places, but, fuck did the dancer kid look familiar. I couldn’t see all of his features, just the floppy blonde brunette mix of his hair, and the full pink of his lips.

I watched as he pressed his back against the cool metal, sliding down and spreading his legs, stroking his crotch. The audience seemed to like it, as the men scoured their pockets and thrust grimy dollar bills at him.

“What’s his name?” I asked, turning to the bartender, who had been watching too. He looked at me, ruffled his thick ginger hair and bit his lip.

“I can’t tell you, sorry.” He said quietly, boring into me with his icy blue eyes ‘Employee confidentiality, if you know what I mean.”

“Ah. Right.” I said slowly, trying to hide my disappointment.

“If it’ll make you feel better, then you’re not the first to ask.” He continued, shifting the mask that was covering half of his face. I looked back at the stage and the guy was away, flouncing around, picking up the dollar strewn around the stage before disappearing backstage.

I slammed my empty glass down on the counter and ran. Maybe it was the alcohol acting, I’ll never really know. I heard the bartender shouting after me as I ran through the smoke thick air, trying desperately to find the doorway to backstage.

I felt my rapidly increasing sweat sticking the heated plastic of the mask to my face, and my badly dyed fringe was damp with the stuff. But I didn’t care. All I cared about right then was finding him.

I skirted round the stage and found an illuminated doorway, painted white with the yellowish glow of – God forbid – normal light bulbs emanating through the small open crack between door and door frame. I noticed a burly blonde security dude heading my way, so I quickly entered the somewhat more normal room to avoid his wrath.

I pressed myself against the cold painted hardwood and sighed in relief. Negotiation of backstage; complete.

I heard a sniffle across the room and glanced around nervously. That was when I saw him, curled up in a ball on the couch that was old and faded red. His knees were against his chest and he was still in his stage clothes.

It was ridiculous, the get up they made him wear to turn on dirty old bastards. PVC police officer stuff, an all in one playsuit made of shiny “sexy” plastic, complete with belt and sex toys in holsters. Knee high boots, an equally as slutty PVC hat, and to complete the ensemble, his black mask, with a white feather for added flair.

“If... If you just want a mindless... meaningless fuck, then please, go and see one of the guys out there...” He said weakly, not looking up. He must’ve heard me shut the door. And I thought I was being quiet.

I didn’t move. And somehow, he could tell.

“P...Please...” He mumbled, looking up at me with tear-filled brown eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sound that broken to this very day.

“I don’t want mindless love.” I explained quietly, walking over to him “It’s just, I remember you from somewhere...And I think you’re sweet...”

He looked at me, shocked.

“Tell me, what about me is sweet?” He cried, continuing to blubber “I take my clothes off so I can afford to pay the bills! I touch myself in public so that old, single gay guys can get a little bit of hand action! What part of that is sweet?”

I could tell that I’d inadvertently touched a nerve with this subject choice. He looked down at me and slumped back in his seat.

“I... I’m sorry.” He continued “It’s just... I’m used to people being complete jerks to me. Someone being nice is so rare I’ve kind of forgotten how to act...” He ruffled his hair slowly.

“It doesn’t matter, Alex.” I said, almost without thinking. He froze and looked at me in shock.

“How... How do you know my name?” He asked, removing his hand from his hair.

“I went to high school with you.” I explained “I’m Jack. Jack Barakat.”

A look of realization crossed his features.

“Oh yea, I remember you!” He replied “You were the one who I was crushing on in senior year.” He froze again and flushed red.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” He mumbled. I nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I totally fancied your pants off too...” I replied sheepishly. He laughed, and threw an arm around my shoulders.

It was like we’d never been apart.

“How about we see each other’s faces then, eh?” He suggested. I agreed nervously. I liked hiding behind the mask.

I watched as he removed the mask, and I felt my cheeks redden and my heart soar. Cliché, I know, but there’s really no other way to describe it.

He looked just how I remembered him; with a pale, sort of tan skin tone, and the blazing brown eyes, perfectly contrasting his pink lips.

“Your turn!” He said happily. I didn’t quite understand why he was so happy about this; maybe it was just that he’d waited so long for someone to just be nice with him.

My heart was in my mouth as I eased the elastic that was around the back of my head away and revealed my face.

“Oh my God...” He said slowly. I swallowed nervously again.

“You look just like I remember...” His lower lip wavered and he bit down on it in an attempt to stop it. I hugged him tight.

He started to cry into my chest and I held him tighter, if that was possible.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” I reassured him gently.

“I’m sorry to dump all this on you.” He said, against my chest “It’s just that I wanna get outta this job so bad, and I’m so fucking stupid and I can’t, cos I failed all my finals...”

“You’re not stupid; you’re amazing.” I said, again without thinking. He looked up at me and smiled feebly.

“I know you’re only trying to help, Jack, but let’s be real here. You barely know me!” There was a tone of exasperation in his voice.

“I know you well enough to remember that your favourite color’s blue, your favourite food is pizza, that your middle name is William, and that you really like it, and that you had a huge crush on Zack when we were in sixth grade...” I replied. I guess I was just desperate to show him how much he meant, even after all these years.

“I missed you.” He sighed happily, nuzzling into my chest.

I wanted to tell him how when I went to college, it was so weird turning around and him not being there, or how empty I felt at graduation, cos the only person there that I knew was my mom. All I’d really needed that day was a friend, and I’d lost him.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.” I said to him, loosening my grip on him. He got up reluctantly and picked up a bag, which must’ve contained his day clothes, ‘cos the leg of a pair of gray skinny jeans was dangling from the side.

“You’re not getting changed?” I asked, surprised.

“Nah. Can’t be assed.” He replied, shaking his head. He threw on a coat, to help disguise his outfit a little more.

We stepped out together into the main club, covering our faces with our hands, ‘cos we’d been fools and had forgotten our masks.

We hit the street – delightfully calm and serene in comparison to the rowdy, gaudy club – and dropped our hands, now able to let the greater public see who we were.

I felt my heartbeat grow as his hand slipped into mine, a strange feeling of joy growing inside my chest.

“Good to have you back, Barakat.” He said quietly, smiling properly for the first time since I’d seen him.

“Good to be back, Gaskarth...” I replied, smirking and dipping my head down so that my lips met his.