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Rated: E · Novel · LGBTQ+ · #1913098
unfinished
AThe phone rang. Kyra jumped out of her skin and grumbled at the interruption; picked up the receiver. “Yes.” was her abrupt greeting as she recognized the voice on the other end. It was Manny. He sounded strange, like he was on something.
{drug-like state}
Manny wheezed into the phone, “K-Kyra, HELP ME?!” He was prone to hyperventilating when he was nervous or excited which made it hard to understand him.
{and paused for air.}

Manny was so overjoyed at the phone call he just received that he could barely breathe. He was panicky and short of breath, as he imparted the tale in gasps and long intervals of wheezing.

“Wait, WAIT!  Stop freaking out, SLOW DOWN! And tell me what’s wrong?”

“Remember John, the guy I have a crush on?” he asked breathlessly. I just got off the phone with him.”

She knew of whom Manny spoke but asked anyway, “The one with the body?” She drew a mental picture of him. In her picture, he was shirtless and wet, hair hanging down over his chest in tendrils, dripping water down his chest over his tight muscular abs. Kyra licked her lips as Manny’s frantic voice broke through the mental picture she had drawn.

“Yep!” He breathlessly squeaked then became quiet as a mouse before continuing his story. “He called me and we chatted for an hour then the boys called him back to finish recording and he asked me out. Then all went quiet and there was a rustling on the phone as he put it down and Daimen picked up the receiver. Meet us at O’Shaunnesay’s at 11 tonight. Will you come?”

The story sounded like someone’s idea of a joke, a cruel joke. Manny had gone to his closet and was looking through his wardrobe and muttering to himself. What am I going to do? What am I going to wear?

A sharp squealing noise hurt her ears. It sounded like metal scrapping metal. “What is that noise?” The answer was obvious; Manny was in the closet looking through his clothes, the noise was the hangers scraping the rod.

“I can’t find anything in this mess!” he wheezed into the phone, sounding like a mouse that had just been caught by the family cat.

“What was our answer?”

I said, “I’ll be there!“ He became silent and Kyra heard labored breathing. He was hyperventilating again.

Kyra was under the impression that all gay men were prima donnas and want to panic at the drop of a hat. Manny sure was. One could tell when he was panicky, he got that mouse-like squeak in his voice, began breathing heavily which deprived his lungs of oxygen, making him hyperventilate
“Oh my god, I’m so nervous. I AM GOING TO MEET THE MAN I DREAM ABOUT EVERY DAY. When I think about it, I want to throw up and butterflies swarm in my stomach.
my stomach hurts.

Kyra heard the sound of hangers hurriedly scrapping the metal rod which they hung upon. “Oh, oh! What will I wear? What will I wear?“

“Wait, WAIT!  Stop freaking out, SLOW DOWN! And tell me what’s wrong?”

Quit being such a prima donna, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Kyra hung up the phone and raced out the door, jumped into her jeep, started the engine, “Damned to Eternity” blasted out of the speakers. John’s bass guitar sounded so good to her ears it hypnotized her and she almost ran off the road but the voice of the vocalist grounded her, keeping her mind here, in the real world.
She drove like a mad woman, speeding the whole way to Manny’s, praying to God that were no cops on the road, waiting in blind spots for speeders. She looked at the jeep’s speedometer, saw she was going 80 miles per hour in a 35 mile an hour zone. The last thing she needed was to get a ticket.

Kyra turned the corner onto Maitland Street, something dart out in front of her and she stepped hard on the brakes. Clunk!  The jeep thumped into something. She had, indeed, hit it and it fell to the ground. She got out of the jeep, went around to the front of the car and saw a deer laying there. It did not move. Kyra walked up to it, bent down and checked for signs of life. She found none and got back in the car, continued the drive to Manny’s.

Kyra pulled into the driveway when Manny came running out to meet her. He was sweating profusely, breathless, and panicky. “You’re here finally! You took your sweet time!”

Kyra herself was pale and shaky. Her eyes were open wide and unfocused. “Huh.”

He pushed her toward the front door. “I only have half an hour until I have to be there.”

She quit shaking and focused on her friend‘s crisis. “Manny, you’re hyperventilating! CALM DOWN! Take a breath, relax.” Kyra shook her head back and forth as she thought, What a girl? “First, show me your closet? I’ll find something he’ll like, while you shower.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her cheek and walked into the bathroom. She heard the faucet squeak with use. He mumbled something about the plumbing in an old house. He walked back into the bedroom and over to the stereo behind her and turned it on. Damned to Eternity blasted from the speakers, wafting sweet notes through the air.

Kyra noticed goose-bumps on her arm as she separated the clothes on the rack.
John’s bass guitar made her sit up and take notice. Darren’s electric guitar told a story on its own without the other instrumental accompaniment. The perfect harmony of the vocals made her heart race and, suddenly, she found it hard to breathe. Derek’s voice sent chills up and down her spine. The passion in his voice made her body react in ways she had not experienced in twenty years.

Kyra looked at each garment separately. She pulled out a pair of skin tight pants and saw a pair of loose fitting black pants with buckle and straps on the lower legs and bondage straps hooked to the belt, crisscrossing as they went down the thigh to hook up somewhere around the knee. She paired them with a loose fitting shirt, also black.

Manny came out of the bathroom in a towel, saw her choice of garments for his date, and dropped his jaw. “Where did you find those? I thought I got rid of them.”

“They were buried in the back of the closet. Do you like them or do you want me to find something else?”

Manny’s face lit up with the thought of John’s reaction, then a mischievous grin crossed his face. He walked over to the bed, picked up the clothes and heads back to the bathroom to get dressed.


*The water needed to be warmed in the sink before the shower is turned on.*



Manny’s voice faded into the background as she began to drool over the man in front of her. She had only seen videos of him with his band-mates. He was kinda small, being about five foot eight inches tall. He had broad shoulders, a shaved head and eyes like magnets.
An air of femininity hung about him, lending him the air of perceived innocence. His hands were small and delicate as his fingers flew expertly over the strings of his instrument,  gently stopping the vibrations of the strings to produce string of notes blending into a melody that will stop your heart and throw you into headlong into mindlessness, so that all you are capable of is mindless worship.

While John was cute and, yes, a bit sexy in his own way, Kyra could not say she loved him the way Manny obviously did. He was nothing to her but a good dream when she needed one. Besides that he was in the public eye, he also happened to be gay. Which meant Manny’s dream just might come to pass.

© Copyright 2013 Korath Mindsthrall (vivienthompson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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