Suspension of Disbelief

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…” The Curator counted back as I slowly walked around his living room trying to catch my breath after rushing to Makati from work. “4, 3…” I walked towards him, now standing very close to him. “…2, 1” We’re both standing in front of each other, face to face, butterflies running wild in my stomach, he smiled, “I’m going to kiss you now Patrick.”

 

**********

 

It was around ten in the evening, when I arrived at the Curator’s apartment. I was a bit exhausted, after spending minutes and minutes trying to find his place.

 

I spotted the Curator waiting at the corner of his street, wearing an Abercrombie-style short, a polo shirt and a baseball cap. As memory serves me, it was the first time I saw him wearing something so casual and yet he looks so cute, I just want to grab him and squeeze him.

 

**********

 

When you want something so bad and do everything so hard just to get it and you finally did, what will you do next?

 

**********

 

“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.” He repeated my name over and over while holding me. “The whole day, your name keeps flashing in my head…, was thinking of you.”

 

He was lying on one of the two sofas in his apartment, the one sitting next to the window, the whole place were humbly lit coming from the half-open door of his room. Everything is so quiet, puffing and blowing of our cigarettes ruled the atmosphere.

 

I sat beside him on the sofa and placed my arms on his chest. I looked at him; he smiled while playing with my arms. It’s that smile of his I couldn’t get out of my head. A naughty and yet sweet, like a child trapped in a 34-year old body.

 

We talked and we talked, and we kissed and we kissed. There was nothing sexual about the whole conversation and the kissing, it was all good actually.

 

“We don’t really need to have sex or feel obligated to perform just to please each other. Intimacy. Intimacy, Patrick, that’s what we’re here for.” He pulled me closer to him and hugged and kissed me.

 

I must admit, I was drowning in euphoria that night, most of the things that have had happened were still floating up until now. The way I held his hand, the way he guided mo to sit on top of me, the way we kissed; so gentle, so soft, so wanting and yet not sexually, but intimate.

 

Hours passed. We transferred to his room.

 

**********

 

How will you know if the person lying next to you or the person you are kissing at the moment, the person you really like is “the one”? There’s not one single reference materials you can borrow in the library and verify your answer just like what we used to do back in college to answer the question, “Is he the one?”, just our heart.

 

**********

 

I didn’t get to sleep that night; I was half awake the whole time. And just before the sun, just before the alarm in his phone beep, he slowly pulled me closer to him, placed his right arm around my neck, while his left arm around me, and laid his head on my shoulder.

 

We cuddled, and cuddled.

 

**********

 

“Intimacy is (always) better than anything (and everything).”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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patrick.king.pascual@gmail.com

It was February 2, around 2:20 in the morning, when I received an SMS from Matthew, asking if we can still meet.

 

**********

 

His name is Matthew. I dated him back in 2007. He’s an I.T. Specialist, who naturally spends more time at work than to himself or to his social life.

 

We met in the chatroom. He went to my place for a simple one-night only thing. And so we did. And after having sex for several minutes, he stayed to talk, something unusual for a one-night stand. We ended the night with a hug and a really memorable kiss, and the promised we will meet again.

 

It took him several weeks to contact me again.

 

I was with my group mates one night, still back in college, shooting a short film for a school project, when I received an SMS from him. He asked me if I want to meet, and I replied “Yes” to him.

 

After that night, we continued exchanging messages while flirting to each other. By that time, I knew to myself that I was madly in-love with him.

 

I discovered that he’s a Thespian. He is a member of a choir group, and been with the CCP umbrella for several years. He’s an artist, a classical artist. He loves opera. And he’s been single for a long time.

 

We continued to exchange messages for weeks and weeks, but we don’t meet, because of his work schedule and my wanting to finish college as fast as I could.

 

Along with our exchange of messages and the seldom calls, I realized that we’re both not ready to enter a relationship that time and what’s been happing between us is just an electric shock to remind us the reality of things, that  it’s not easy being in a relationship.

 

We reached the point that we became really good friends, good friends who have good sex with each other. From then on, it seemed like we signed and unwritten contract, that we’ll meet at least every 2 or 3 months, to catch up or do anything. The set-up has been like that since then.

 

Until he moved to Singapore…

 

**********

 

I was out with Jeff, Nicole and Bernard that morning, walking around, killing time. I replied to his message, “Sure. What time will you be here?”

 

**********

 

One of the reasons why I went to KL last January 1st was to meet Matthew halfway.

 

The last time I was in KL was October last year, we’re supposed to meet in Singapore but I was too busy helping my brother with his errands, and so it got cancelled.

 

Last December, Matthew was supposed to visit Manila to spend his Christmas here and to finally make-up for the “lost” chance we had last October, again, it was cancelled because of his work.

 

I spent the whole first week of January in KL, waiting for Matthew to come to KL, like what we agreed before the New Year. But as the first weekend of the year approached, he sent me an SMS saying that he was checked-in the hospital because of some infection

.

I was really frustrated. It seemed like every time we plan a meet-up, something will come up and so we’ll have to cancel our meeting again and again.

 

I managed to control myself and replied, “Oh, too bad, I was looking forward to spend time with you. Take care.” He replied quickly with, “Baby, I’ll be in Manila by end of January. I will definitely meet you no matter what happen.”

 

**********

 

Around 2:40 in the morning, he sent a message saying that he’s already outside my house waiting.

 

I was still with Jeff walking our way back to my house. I started to panic. This is like a wild card moment for the two of us. We planned to go out and have coffee somewhere to catch up that night.

 

Jeff and I arrived in front my house 2:42AM.

 

He was standing outside his car with his arms fold.

 

“Is it you?,”  I asked. He smiled and walked towards my direction and gave me a big hug and then he kissed me. And he said, “Nice haircut, I really like it.”

 

Jeff went inside of the house to get his stuff and left.

 

I asked Matthew to go inside my house first to wait for me, because I still need to change.

 

We entered my room, he sat on my bed, the way he acted – it seemed like he’s very comfortable and familiar with my room. While I was going through my closet, looking for a nice shirt to wear for our coffee date, he asked me to sit beside him on the bed. So I did.

 

He pulled me closer to him and hugged me. “How are you?” he asked. “It hasn’t been that nice these past weeks, ‘because it seemed like the universe has been playing with us. Three of our scheduled meetings got cancelled because of silly reasons. But you can’t paint the happiness I feel now.” I smiled.

 

“I’m going to kiss you now Matthew, can’t help it.” I said. Matthew smiled and answered, “Okay.”

 

I leaned forward and kissed him.

 

***

 

We had sex for more than an hour and a half. It was exquisite. It was euphoric. Like nothing I’ve felt before.

 

We showered together after.

 

***

 

We continued to catch up with each other after we showered.

 

I discovered that he knows The Curator. He dated him back in 2003. Matthew warned me to be careful with him, because everything The Curator does is just knee-jerk.

 

Our conversation seemed like forever. And when we checked the time, it was already 5 in the morning. He fixed himself and I lead him down to the gate.

 

Before he went back to his car, he hugged me really tight and gave me a kiss, a kiss that I can still feel.

 

He started the engine and left. I closed the gate and went back to my room.

 

The next day, he went back to Singapore.

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

 

 

I have to admit, I’m still in-love with Matthew, but to a different level now. If before, I was attracted to him physically and emotionally, now, I’m attracted to him intellectually along with the other two factors. It’s a deeper level now. And no more expectations this time.

 

It’s like we both signed another unwritten contract, that let us feel what we’re suppose to feel when the other is around, and feel what we’re suppose to feel when the other is not around. My very own Brokeback Mountain story. And I’m sure it’s not just because of my new haircut, but something more profound.

 

It’s the kind of love that can make you smile, that can make you think. It’s an unusual kind of love most people don’t want and refuses to feel. But it’s something euphoric, something to complete your day after a harsh day from work, before you close your eyes, and when you wake-up the next day. It’s not like a long distance kind of love. Something more profound. Something only the people in the kind of relationship understands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Araw-araw ay nakakarinig tayo ng iba’t-ibang tawag:

 

Tawag ng inang bayan, para sa mga pulitiko.

Tawag ng Diyos, para sa mga pari, mga madre at mga deboto ng simbahan.

Tawag ng konsensya para sa mga kurakot at magnanakaw.

Tawag ng ina sa mga anak nito at sa mga anak niyang napariwara.

 

 

 

At tawag ng laman, ang walang humpay na naririnig ko.

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

The Curator Part 2.

 

**********

 

Protocol is the customs and regulations dealing with diplomatic formality, precedence, and etiquette. It’s a mandatory thing you have to learn and do every time you come across or approach someone who has the same stature as The Queen or The President.

 

**********

 

Just a day later, after I flew back from KL, I got a heads-up from work that I will be working with The Curator again. I received his number, and my Boss, persistently reminded me to bug The Curator for his script.

 

It was a move I’m so afraid to make. The past came flashing through my head, from the very first time I saw him to the last time we exchanged messages. It was a mixture of dread, excitement and hope. I didn’t know if sending him a message, work-related or no, a good idea or what. But I have to do it.

 

**********

 

Then the day came. He went to the office to finish his script and prepare for the show.

 

I’m not sure if I’m sedated the whole time I was with him or I just kept on making an excuse just to be close to him. It was ecstatic.

 

The Curator flashed several signs. I caught most of it but up until now I still haven’t deciphered what he meant, again, I received mixed-messages.

 

**********

 

I couldn’t help but wonder (again), am I willing to jump back to the old days wherein I hope and wait for something I really want to happen even after learning the great deal of odds I have to surpass to accomplish them?

 

**********

 

After the show, I wanted so bad to ask The Curator out; to catch up on things since our last conversation months and months’ back, to flirt with him a little more, and something more, maybe. But I crippled.

 

I went to the garden of our office and lighted my 8^th cigarette for the day. A great part of me wanted to go back to the studio and catch him before he leaves the office, but part of me begs to hold on still where I was standing.

 

And then, I received a call from The Curator.

 

….

 

“Where are you? I have been going around the office looking for you… I just left your office… I’m on my way now to meet your boss for a dinner.”

 

I wanted to die as his words slowly entered my system. It could have been… It might have been… Then he said:

 

“Patrick, take good care of yourself. Just call me anytime for anything…”

 

After hearing him say those words, I slowly got myself back to reality. I flirted back saying, “Seriously, for anything?” He answered, “Yeah”, with a naughty laugh.

 

….

 

**********

 

I had a choice that night, I could have went back to the studio and face reality with The Curator without any distractions and enjoy his company, but I chose to stay away.

 

Was I wrong in making that choice, or am I just playing everything safe knowing what consequences I will have to face after making a move?

 

I still have one more choice to make for - The Curator; I can call him and updated him about the status of his talent fee and continue the flirting with him, or I can just let our HR department do the legwork for everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

e-mail: patrick.king.pascual@gmail.com

.

We’ve reached the end of the year and the beginning of another.

 

After finishing a full year of success stories, fulfilled dreams and hopes, established a strong foundation with our friends, mastering the things we’ve committed errors on the previous year, and of course; heartbreaks, more hopes that lead to nothing, more education and experience on different dilemmas in the health section. Overall, it was a fat-full year of events that made us hustlers.

 

Hustler at work.

Hustler in bed.

Hustler in partying.

Hustler in writing.

Hustler in editing and producing stuff.

Hustler in drinking.

Hustler in giving head.

Hustler in giving advice to our friends.

Hustler in everything.

 

I should know. I spent half of my 2008, mixing and practicing all those above. After a hard 12 hours in the office, I will go home to change and drop my things, and then go out again, to meet my friends for a drink, and who knows what else, after which, I will go home to sleep for a couple of hours and then rush back to work. This has been my routine for sometime last year.

 

It was an exhausting year. I produced more programs compared to what I have accomplished the previous year. I met and had sex with more men as I have in 2007, while hoping to meet “the one” every time I took off my clothes and lie in bed with someone. It was exhausting but fun.  

 

**********

 

If the Chinese belief is true, that whatever you do on the first day of the year will be the pattern of your routine for the whole year; then we wouldn’t have any problems and more questions as we walked along the days and months of last year trying to figure out what’s wrong.

 

I started my last year, as perfectly patterned as my freshly ironed white buttoned down shirt. But I felt overtly exhausted last year, hoping to finally meet “the one” (don’t we always do this every start of a new year?) but I failed to, and so, I spent my 101% of my time in work, leaving the other column blank and hanging, as I fast-pace succeeded in my work, I was recognised for this, as one of the hard-working employee.

 

This year, as the clock turns for 2009, we flew out of Manila to go to Kuala Lumpur, to spend 7 days with Val – to enjoy the city before having a long break with KL, before Val moves to France on the 9^th.

 

And, I, on the other hand, up for another rollercoaster vacation ride; to meet my old flings here in KL, to shop at Plaza Low Yat more gadgets that I will be using for 2009, and to spend more time with Val. And I’m packed with new high hopes I want to accomplish as the year progress, work-wise and relationship-wise, and to finally answer the question, “Can we have it all?”

 

 

 

 

.

We fall in love with something (or someone) so beautiful, so tender, so fragile, and yet so strong, until we become obsessed with it, in a good way of course. We may call it love or Anton’s definition; fixation.

 

We all have dreams that we imagine and think of repeatedly everyday, every minute. Dreams that we programmed ourselves to reach in the near future, no matter how hard or how long it will take us. And in the end, it becomes an unhealthy and compulsive preoccupation with something or someone in our head – fixation, is really unhealthy?

 

**********

 

He is a classic.

He can make you smile.

He is beautiful.

He can take your breath away.

He is fragile.

He can break into tears for you.

He is romantic.

He can make you fall in love.

He is perfect.

 

 

 

 

**********

 

His name is Paris. I met him 3 months ago, B.G. introduced us. He is in a relationship with Baron for I think for more than 12 months now. Both of them are my friends. I never saw them again after the first meeting. Paris was stuck on my mind.

 

Then the “Laguna Christmas Party” came. I saw him again with all of my other friends. Everything was rebooted; my fantasies, my longing, my desire. I realised how much I really like him. It’s like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, something so beautiful and tempting and yet you can’t get your hands around it. Pain.

 

At first, it was all about carnal lust towards him. He wasn’t feeling well that night, so after dinner and a couple of drinks he went straight to bed. It was a big chance for me; all I have to do is grab it, while Baron is busy enjoying the party with the rest of the group. But I didn’t.

 

Fast-forward to my “Extended Play” celebration of my birthday party in my house. I invited the group for an all night drinking session then Malate party after.

 

10PM came. Ryan “Kulot” SMS me saying, he and Paris were already outside my house.

 

I was shocked and excited at the same time. Paris was still unsure earlier if he can come to my party because of his early work the next day. For an hour or so, it was only the three of us chatting and waiting for the rest of the group. It was ecstatic for me. Finally, I said to myself.

 

But my ecstasy turned into despair. Baron SMS Paris that he’s on his way to my house to attend my party. Not being a bitch here, but, I was so desperate in the last two days, trying to find the perfect gift for myself for my birthday; I thought – it’s already here standing in front of me, but no.

 

Hours passed, the whole group were halfway through being drunk, when these subtle arguments between Paris and Baron echoed from their side of the table started. Paris stood up, and walked and walked around the whole area of the floor for several minutes.

 

He stayed at one end of the floor, looking outside, he was obviously pissed off. And then he started crying. I saw him and approached him. I tried my very best to act as a friend to him and not someone who have a “hidden agenda” against their relationship.

 

It was only then I discovered that their relationship is not as perfect as I thought it was. In the last six months of their relationship, Baron is, let’s just say, not doing his part in the relationship to a point that he’s already hurting Paris big time.

 

I was like, “If he’s acting that way and treating you that way, you should talk to him and ask him what he really wants. Man, you don’t deserve being treated way.” His tears continued to fall. And Baron doesn’t seem to care.

 

I walked back to the group to drink another shot of Vodka Zero, when Paris threw that half empty bottle of Red Horse on the wall, and he screamed. I ran towards him, “Relax. What did I just say? Feel the pain but don’t let it get to you. Don’t punish yourself this bad.”

 

 

An hour passed, Jek somehow managed to get Baron to talk to Paris. They surprisingly patched things up that easy. Pain.

 

After finishing the bottle of Absolute Apeach, we left for Malate. Paris never made it inside the club. He puked in the front and Baron took him home. Pain.

 

Anton arrived around three in the morning. I told him the whole story. He goes like, you have two choices: either you fuck up their relationship and make sure that you will get Paris fully or just be friends with him and enjoy the friendship and just wait and not hope for anything more.

 

I couldn’t stop thinking about Paris that night.

 

**********

 

As Jeff, Anton and I take our breakfast after partying in Malate, we got into a little argument on how I should define the feelings I have for Paris. Yes, I end up being judgemental with their relationship just and only because of what I feel about Paris.

 

But if you look closer, there’s something wrong in their relationship that only one of them is willing to fix it and the other doesn’t really care. Again, who am I to judge and analyze their relationship?

 

Anton defined my feelings as a fixation and nothing more.

 

I got into thinking after our little healthy argument; are we all just hopeless to point that we are willing to believe anything and everything even if we know deep in ourselves that it is impossible?

 

What a tempting thought.

 

 

 

.

Every year we look forward to several holidays, several occasions we save up for, we plan vigorously and spend it as a time to release our inhibitions, take off our tired shoes and just lay back. But, there are few celebrations we just want to pass and just pretend it didn’t happen.

 

**********

 

Last week, I attended my office, ANC’s, Christmas party. It’s one of the celebrations I was looking forward to; really, it’s been like forever since we have our very own Christmas party. Usually, we’re just squatting with the NCAD group to celebrate our Christmas party, which usually ends up, the NCAD people having all the fun. But this year was really different, Ms. Glenda, our COO, made sure that we will have our very own party, and indeed, it was a success.

 

It was a double celebration for me. Halfway through the party, Ms. Glenda announced that ANC will also have 10/10 awardees like the 20/20 awardees of the NCAD group. 20 for the twenty awardees and 20 for the twenty-thousand pesos each of the awardees will receive. Our version, ANC’s version, 10/10.

 

I kept going back to the toilet to unload; I have been drinking since the party started. I promised myself that I will hydrate myself with liquor that night, and so I did; a mixture of San Mig Light, Colt 45, Bailey’s, Whisky, and a shot of Tequila.

 

As I walk back to the party hall, I heard Ms. Glenda calling my name, I think she repeated it twice or three times, I rushed in. She asked me to go into the front, to accept the certificate and to give a little a speech. I was one of the 10/10 awardees.

 

I was blank for a minute, all I could say was, OMG. And then, Ms. Maria Ressa walked closer to me and said, “Congratulations Patrick, you did well this year.” I was awakened after hearing her congratulating me.

 

I was shaking, shocked, I thanked everyone: “Korina Today – the show who taught me everything and the program I’ve been with the longest and Patricia Evangelista for releasing the BE(A)ST in me, Ms. Glenda – for trusting me and giving me the chance to show my talent and capabilities, and  Ms. Maria Ressa”.

 

For a minute I thought I already thanked everyone who shaped me in the past two years, and as I returned the microphone to Ms. Glenda, I realised, I forgot to thank Mr. Tony Velasquez, the host of RNG (Regional Network Group)-driven program Crossroads who have been so good to me. I’m unworthy.

 

And so I’m taking this opportunity to thank Mr. Tony Velasquez, for trusting his video inserts and editing of his program to me every week and for keeping his patience level up  – even if I fail to attend our weekly meeting and sometimes fail to deliver my 100% to his program.

 

After leaving the front of the hall, Cris Malapit walked towards my direction and gave me another bottle of San Mig Light. He said, “We need to celebrate Patrick!” We continued to drink the whole night, I lost count of how many bottles of beer and brands of alcohol I submerged myself into, but it was worth it.

 

**********

 

Today, December 26, 2008, I turn 22. Most of my friends are in their respective provinces, spending their holiday with their family. Jeff is not replying to any of my messages, Nicole is in Olongapo, enjoying the marines, Bernard is too busy with his boyfriend, and I just got an SMS from Anton saying that he’s back from his Batangas trip, and oh, B.G. is in Batangas with Raymond.

 

So far, no plans yet for my birthday, just the traditional birthday dinner with my family. I persuaded Anton to join us in the dinner and just figure something after.

 

It’s only three in the afternoon, I don’t know if I’m feeling less or bored, my friends greeted me for my birthday, and yet I’m still feeling down. I’m guessing — the best birthday present I received is the 10/10 award from ANC, but who knows what’s in store for me tonight.

 

I’m still choosing what to wear for my birthday dinner, I have three different tops. I can go with the usual “Malate kid” look a.k.a. my everyday polo shirt, or my new blue plaid button-down short or the red version of it. Ahh!

 

**********

 

A year of my life just ended, I remember last year; I swore to myself that I will wear an optimistic attitude towards work, friends, and looking for “the one”. But as I look back to the things I have done and accomplished in the past year, I got into thinking, “Are we getting older and wiser or just older?”

 

I manage to succeed on most of my dwellings; in my work, my friends – I fixed all the loopholes between, but I still managed to forget the thing that will make me happy and to keep me smiling after a hard day at work, a relationship. I’m tormented every time I think of it.

 

It’s been more than two years now that I have been single. I just realised it’s hard to type the word “single” after spending another year with no accomplishment in the column of “relationship”. It’s true.   

 

Today, that year ended, and a new year will begin. New hopes will come, new guys will come and make me cry, and new friends will come to make my life more colourful and new opportunities will open work-wise.

 

Is it high time to stop waiting for something and just remain optimistic? Or is it the right time to wear high hopes and expectations for my birthday until the next big day comes?               

 

 

.

 

He’s a 7-incher. He’s in a relationship for a year now. He cheats on his partner.

 

His name is Dave. I met him in the chatroom. We agreed to meet; around 11 PM last Friday

 

He arrived ten minutes before 12 MN. He was 45 minutes late, I was a pissed off.

 

When we got into the roof-deck of my house, he immediately grabbed me closer to him, and started playing with my chest, my body and caressed my dick from the outside of my pants.

 

I took off his shirt, started to lick both of his nipples and unbuckled his belt. He removed my shirt and licked my nipples while he unzipped my pants. After loosing the button of my pants, he pulled it down. I stood in front of him wearing my underwear.

 

He continued to play with my dick, I was throbbing hard. I started to remove his pants together with his underwear. When I reached for his dick, I was shocked. It was a 7 inches meat hanging from a 5’7” guy.

 

It was a force bigger than me. I have to conquer it, and taste it. And so I did. I knelt in front of him and started to give him head. Just a couple of minutes passed, I stood up and I guided his head lower to my still covered dick.

 

Dave removed my underwear and started to give me head while I jerked him off. After two minutes, he stood up and we continued to jerk each other. I lay on top of the long dining table in the middle of our roof-deck, I asked Dave to lie down beside me, with his head facing my dick. We were in 69-position.

 

I deep-throated him, he sucked me hard every time I swallowed the entity of his shaft. We stayed in that position for more than 10 minutes. It was amazing. I played with his 7 inches dick for the longest time I could. I enjoyed it.

 

Then, Dave knelt in front of my face and jerked his dick faster and harder. He came on my chin and few of his jizz dripped to my neck. I came on my tummy.

 

He wiped his cum on my chin and on my neck. We spent the next few minutes talking.

 

 

**********

 

 

Dave is in a relationship with a pure bottom, they have been together for a year now. His partner, his loyal partner (according to him), doesn’t have a single clue of what he’s doing or what he’s been doing. And he’s not planning to tell his partner about it anytime soon.

 

 

**********

 

 

When we’re single, we’re complaining over the fact that we have been looking for “the one” for the longest time, and when we get the chance to finally date someone, we check everything more than twice and analyze everything over and over again until find a flaw on the person and dwell on it.

 

And even with our one-night stands, we can’t help but hope and wish that the next person we’re going to invite for a casual meet might or will be our one. With the kind of mind-set, everything will be pre-empted and surely, end up to just a casual sex, to nothing. 

 

But when we finally enter a relationship, a dream relationship, we still complain and continue to question things, questions we want to be answered. Questions that are really based on who knows? Something shallow, something that involves paranoia, or something that will lessen the jealousy we feel.

 

Is Dave in the verge of a 7-month itch, (seven being the operative word)? Is Dave bored with his partner knowing that he is a pure bottom and just want to have sex with someone who is versatile of a pure top? (what a shallow reason) Or simply, is Dave, just like any other “gay asshole”, he’s good in bed but terrible or worst when it comes to relationships?

  

 

**********

 

 

Dave double-wiped his face to make sure there’s no trace of anything foreign, he smelled his shirt and checked himself in front of the mirror. He left my house rushing, “I still have to meet my boyfriend, and have dinner with him. See you soon.”

 

As I closed the gate, I got into thinking, am I really that kind of person, who doesn’t care whether his (casual) sex partner is single or attached? Am I that kind of person, who will ruin a good relationship by having sex with one of them? Will I be able to take it, if I were in Dave’s boyfriend position? Or will I do it, if I were in Dave’s position?

 

After all, what’s better than a good 7 inches dick blowjob compared to a whole night of complaining about the fact of being single?

 

 

 

. 

It was half passed midnight of Dec. 2, Tuesday. Anton, Nicole and I were rushing back to Blumentritt, Espana to meet B.G.

 

He greeted us with a smile and a hug. The next few minutes with B.G. was one of he most disturbing moments of the entire evening.

 

*****

 

His name was Ivan.

 

He went home to his condo around midnight, accompanied by another straight-acting gay guy he met at a gay club in Makati. It could have been the usual one-night stand anyone does after a long day of work. But it wasn’t.

 

The “suspect” left the condo around 10:30 the same morning.

 

*****

 

The security in Ivan’s condo was alarmed after sensing layers and layers of smoke coming out his room. They barged into the unit.

 

Ivan was dead. His unit was burned. 90% of his body, burned. The shelf that holds his magazine collection collapsed, and it somehow managed to protect his face from the immense fire that ate his body.

 

The family and friends of Ivan insisted to have his body autopsied.

 

*****

 

He was strangled with a nylon cord. He was hit hard at the back of head. He was stabbed using a very pointed object that penetrated his neck all the way up to his head and was left there for several hours. He was burned after.

 

*****

 

The suspect is still at large up to this very moment. There were several leads to who the killer was. First; he signed the guest book in the lobby of Ivan’s condo, (the name) which they can use in tracing the suspect, but only few days after the murder, they found out that the name he used was one of Ivan’s friends.

 

And as the Philippine National Police and S.O.C.O. continued their investigation, another possible lead floated among the family and friends of Ivan, the suspect was a serial killer, who has sex with gays and kills them after.

 

*****

 

After telling this story to my friend Patricia, we got into thinking that what happened to Ivan was – a fetish gone wrong. And when his partner started to panic, was too afraid to call the ambulance, he was left with no other choice but to kill him and burn his unit to clean up for any possible evidence he might left.

 

But a tingling fact continues to play in my head.

 

Why would someone end up killing someone that brutally? If it were an ordinary one-night type of thing, he wouldn’t have that technical knowledge on how to kill someone that progressive. 

 

If you play with your fetish with someone you just met, chances are, it will definitely go wrong. But killing your partner brutally after a misstep with your fantasy, is definitely a big foul with someone who gives in to their fetishes. I should know, ‘because I have several I practice with random people, and I don’t end up killing them if something went wrong.

 

But, it still was a fetish play, a fetish play of the serial killer. The killer who wants have sex first with his victim, and afterwards kill him, or take his life while he comes, it may differ from one to the other, it depends on his mood.

 

Foul. It’s definitely a foul play of fetish. But, who am I to judge on how he practices his fetish?

 

*****

 

But why the fuck does it have to involve gays?

 

Was it another hate crime?  

 

 

.

There’s a hole in my heart

No one else can fill it

There’s a feeling I have

No one can replace

There’s a taste in my mouth

No one else can give me

 

There’s a strange melody

That sends me straight to heaven

There’s a voice in my head

No one else can hear

 

Why would I want them to

I’m still looking back at you

Why would I want them to be you?

No one can take your place

I’m still looking at your face

No one can take the place of you

 

You’ll always be a part of me

What you love can never let you go

You’ll always be inside of me

Like a flower you grow

 

.