Leaving His Shell Behind
Part 1
“You’re not wearing that, are you?”
Eric never ceased to be impressed by how much emotion Kandi could infuse into a single word. It was all a matter of inflection, he mused as he looked in the mirror and tried to figure out what was causing her revulsion–and revulsion it was, no doubt about it.
His reflection showed a medium tall man in his early twenties dressed in a pair of loose fitting khakis and a beige oxford shirt. Nothing to offend there, he thought. Nothing to make you look twice. Of course, he should have realized that was the problem.
“You look like a piece of toast. I know you’ve got better clothes than this. Strip! I’m redressing you.” She bounced off his bed and headed for the closet.
The closet, he thought wistfully. Such a nice, safe place to be. He hadn’t realized just how comfortable it was until he was paired with Kandi at work, and found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d clung to his whole life. They were both first year associates at one of the city’s most prestigious personal injury law firms but that had seemed to be the only thing they had in common. When Eric met Kandi, with her spiked, purple tipped hair and Lady Gaga inspired wardrobe, he decided the partner who assigned them to work together on a problematic products liability case must have been drunk. He resigned himself to doing the lion’s share of the work. He soon found out that Kandi was brilliantly innovative in her approach to the law, with a natural flare for digging deeper into the issues. She, on the other hand, resigned to a work partner who was as dull as his clothes sense, was relieved to find out that Eric’s genius level brains were coupled with a wickedly sharp sense of humor
But it wasn’t until they found themselves both sighing over the UPS guy bending to pick up some boxes, those cute brown uniform shorts pulling tight across his cute ass, that they discovered a mutual attraction to men. Of course, no sooner did Kandi realize Eric was gay than she felt duty-bound to help him find a man. Which, he reasonably pointed out, was difficult when he was, one, incurably shy, two, not out at work, and three, not sure he even had time for a romantic life.
Kandi brushed aside those objections like so much whipped cream on a latte. Which was how Eric found himself standing in front of his mirror on a Friday night, getting ready to go out to a gay karaoke bar. But not, apparently, in his favorite khakis and buttondown. He started to undress– Kandi treated him so much like a big sister that he didn’t think twice about getting undressed in front of her. Which was funny because he couldn’t imagine getting undressed in front of his real big sisters.
“Here! These are perfect! Why don’t you ever wear these?” She asked, returning from her exploration into his closet with a pair of Levis that he hadn’t worn in five years. He was surprised he still had them.
“I don’t wear them,” he explained patiently, “because they don’t fit and they’re too low-cut. My underwear shows!”
She grinned at him. “Simple answer to the second problem, sweetie. Ditch the tightie whities–they’re so old school anyway. I’ve got to get you some decent 2xist . As for the first problem, try them on and let’s see how they fit. I have a theory.”
Kandi turned her attention to his dresser, looking for a different top, so Eric quickly took off his underpants and stepped into the old jeans. Which were tight but he was pleased to see that he was able to zip them up easily enough. Shyly, he asked, “How is this?”
Turning around, Kandi let out a low whistle. “Damn, Eric. My theory is proven! I suspected you were hot beneath all those baggy clothes but we’re talking Abercrombie and Fitch–the body, not the clothes, that is. Here, put this on, much as I hate to cover up those abs.”
Blushing, Eric accepted the black knit short-sleeve shirt she handed him. It had been a present from his sister Jill who loved anything with a designer label. This was Dolce and Gabbana and he could remember his other sister, Drea, flipping out over Jill spending almost a hundred dollars on what was little more than a t-shirt. It caused such a fight between the two that he’d put it out of sight. He’d forgotten he even had it. Pulling it on, he was conscious of its soft texture even as he questioned the snug fit. He stared at the reflection of the stranger who looked back at him, light brown hair rumpled from the shirt, blue eyes wide, taut body fully displayed in the form-fitting outfit.
“Do you think it looks okay? It’s kind of tight,” he said doubtfully.
“Wow.” Kandi just stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “Of course you’re gay,” she muttered. Then she smiled at him. “Don’t worry. Tight is good,” Kandi assured him, then paused. “Well, on you, tight is good. In fact, it’s fucking hot. Now tight as in Parker from the mailroom and those spandex bicycle pants of his–no, not good.”
Eric laughed – and relaxed slightly. He submitted to Kandi rubbing some gel into his hair to spike it slightly and then grabbed his keys and wallet to follow her out. As he went to pick up his cell phone, he realized he was running out of hands. He looked at his friend, frustrated.
“I have no place to put my phone and wallet and stuff,” he complained. “There’s no way anything is fitting into these jeans.” Maybe I should stay home, was his thought, but he knew better than to say that out loud.
“You’re already fitting quite a nice amount into those jeans, Eric, sweetie, and I’ll hold the excelsior for you. Now you see why men need man bags.”
Eric shuddered. No way he’d ever be able to return home to South Carolina if he started carrying a pocketbook. He’d have to change his name and move to a foreign country. Like New York, he thought with an inward grin. After locking his door, he handed all of his things to Kandi who stuffed them into the huge hobo style bag she carried everywhere.
They walked together from Eric’s loft in Chinatown over to the “gayborhood,” that section of Philadelphia that the town fathers had decided to stop fighting as a “gay hangout” and instead start promoting to gay tourists. Kandi pointed out to Eric the little rainbows that decorated the street signs in this section of the city. She’d gone to law school in Philadelphia and was very familiar with its neighborhoods. Eric, the product of a small southern town, was still adjusting to city life; he wasn’t all that sure he was ready for gay city life. But, he’d come to value Kandi’s friendship and if she thought he should do this, well, then, he’d... try.
Eric stopped dead a block away from the club, a look of panic on his face.
“I don’t think this is such a good idea, Kandi. Maybe another night. Next week maybe...or next month. I’m kind of tired from work and these pants aren’t all that comfortable and....”
She put her hands on his shoulders. “Breathe,” she commanded. He took a deep breath.
“And again,” she said, her lips tilting up in a slight smile. He couldn’t help but smile back.
“That’s better,” she said encouragingly. “Now. All we’re going to do is go into the Tavern, have a beer, listen to a few people sing, probably mock them a little bit, and that’s it. Nothing there to scare you, is there?”
“That’s all?” He looked at her doubtfully.
“That’s all. Unless of course you insist on getting up and belting out, ‘I Am What I Am,’ in which case, you go for it.”
Eric laughed. “Not a chance,” he assured her.
“Then let’s do it.”
Eric looked around as they entered the dimly lit club. The crowd was still a bit thin as it was early. Kandi waved to the piano player. She whispered to Eric that maybe later they could listen to him play and sing. For now, she wanted to get Eric upstairs to the relative anonymity of the busier, louder, karaoke bar for his first outing.
No pun intended, she told him, giggling slightly. He rolled his eyes but he found himself catching a little bit of her good mood. She called over to the piano player.
“Hey, Sam, things hopping upstairs yet?”
“Good evening, Kandace. I’m well, how are you?” Sam dryly responded, earning a laugh from the older men who were seated on the barstools that surrounded his piano. She accepted his reprimand on her manners with a grin, and said, “You know I love your playing and singing, handsome. But Eric here has never been to a karaoke bar so I promised him that pleasure for tonight. If he got to hear you first, upstairs would be such an anticlimax! He’d be so disappointed that he’d never forgive me.”
“There is a compliment buried in there somewhere, I’m sure. But you may be forced to disappoint your friend, as I’ve been informed that the thing that they use–we don’t call it an instrument, do we?” Sam looked inquiringly at his court of admiring men.
“I think it’s a device, a device of torture,” one suggested. Eric thought the man looked like one of his professors from college.
“It’s a machine,” offered a second.
“A toy?” queried a third.
“I believe I like Bill’s suggestion; we shall call it a device,” Sam decided. He shook his head sadly at Kandi and Eric. “The device is broken. You are reduced either to listening to the diehards bemoan that fact upstairs or joining us. What if we promise to sing badly enough to duplicate the real experience for your handsome friend, will that persuade you in our favor?”
Eric couldn’t help laughing at that. Seeing his expression of relaxed amusement at the banter, Kandi decided a change of plans was in order. It wasn’t like she was trying to get him laid tonight, she reasoned. She just wanted to get him out of his shell, talking to other gay men. If he found it easier to talk to men old enough to be his father, well, it was a start.
The next thing he knew, Eric found his arm being tightly gripped as he was led over to two empty seats right at the piano, next to the man named Bill.
“We’d love to join you gentlemen,” she announced. “I’m Kandi, and this is Eric...be nice to him, he’s from the south.”
“South Jersey?” one of the men asked, causing a laugh. Eric found himself relaxing even more as he said shyly, “No, South Carolina.”
“That is an improvement over Jersey,” Sam pronounced, then ordered one of the men sitting closest to him, “Joe, see what these youngsters are drinking and tell Jeff to put it on my tab.”
Eric started to protest but Kandi kicked him to shut him up. She knew Sam rarely made such gestures, but when he did, one graciously accepted or risked offending him. “Thank you, love,” she said. “A beer for me, anything draft that isn’t light will do. Eric?”
“Sounds good. Thank you.” Eric managed to avoid adding a “sir” on the end as he thanked Sam, remembering in time that people up here found the honorific to be insulting, instead of respectful. OR maybe it was the respect that they disliked? To make it simpler, he just smiled his thanks to Joe as he was handed the beer.
“What’s your pleasure?” Sam asked Kandi.
“Hmm, how about something from ‘My Fair Lady’? I’m feeling very Eliza Doolittle today,” she decided, smiling brightly at the men. There was general consensus that everyone was in the mood for some “My Fair Lady” so Sam swung into “Get Me to the Church on Time.” Everyone sang along on the chorus, and it was so easygoing and fun that Eric found himself singing along. Sam had an incredible voice, but Eric was surprised that pretty much everyone sounded great. By the time he was on his third beer, he was no longer singing under his breath, but was belting the songs out as loudly as Kandi–but in tune.
Eric was having such a good time singing with the older men and Kandi that he didn’t notice at first when someone new joined the group at the piano. Another beer appeared in front of him and as he looked up to protest that he’d had enough, he found himself looking into an incredible pair of green eyes. The owner, a tall, lean man with curly blond hair smiled engagingly at him.
“Hey mate, all that singing must be making you thirsty. But you have to drink a Foster’s, no more of that other stuff.”
Eric was charmed by the Australian accent. He picked up the mug and looked over the edge as he sipped it then said, “It is good. Is it true that Foster’s is Australian for beer?” No sooner did he say it than he wanted to wince–how lame could he get? Fortunately, the other man grinned in a friendly way.
“Well, in Australia, we’re pretty good about considering anything Australian for beer. I’m Tim.” He held out his hand and Eric shook it, relieved that he hadn’t blown things in the first minute. Of course, that left him with the next minute to worry about.
He felt a nudge from behind him. “Tell him your name.”
Kandi. He’d forgotten her for a second. Actually, more than a second. Ever since looking into green eyes. He turned toward her.
“Hey, Kandi, this is Tim.”
“Nice to meet you, Tim,” Kandi laughed. “And have you met my friend, Eric?”
“It’s a pleasure,” Tim said, keeping his grasp on Eric’s hand.
“Timothy, you’ve joined us. Can I persuade you to sing a song?” It was Sam, coming to Eric’s rescue this time, because he was damned if he could think of a thing to say next.
“Yes, you can,” Tim answered, releasing Eric’s hand slowly. He walked to the microphone. “What would you like?”
“I don’t know,” Sam drawled, “how about something romantic?”
Tim looked at Eric. “Do you have any favorites, beautiful?”
Eric blinked. This incredibly gorgeous man just called him beautiful? Everyone was looking at him, which was not something Eric enjoyed. Still, the most incredible looking man in the place was one of them, and he was smiling, so....
“Jerome Kern,” Eric blurted out. He blushed again. “I mean....something written by Jerome Kern would be...would be really...great.”
Tim smiled delighted. “I knew I liked you.”
After conferring briefly with Sam, Tim launched into “The Way You Look Tonight,” his beautiful green eyes locked with Eric’s deep blue ones. As he held the final note, Eric felt Kandi tap on his shoulder. While everyone applauded, she whispered in his ear.
“I’m going to head out, sweetie, Bill is going to walk me to a cab. You’ll be okay?”
Eric turned, startled.
“But...I’ll go now,” he offered, disappointed. He’d hoped to have a chance to talk to Tim some more.
“Not on your life,” Kandi grinned. “Stay, talk. Maybe even sing a solo.”
“Without you here?” He felt bereft. Like he did the first day of school and he’d just found out his mother wasn’t coming in with him.
Kandi looked meaningfully at Tim, who was making his way back around the piano toward them. “I think it’s time for you to go solo, little turtle. Be good, be safe, and have fun.” She kissed him on the cheek and was gone with a wave for the rest of the men.
“All on your own?” Tim asked, resting his hand lightly on Eric’s waist.
Taking a deep breath, Eric smiled up at him. “No...I think I’m with you.”
Smiling brilliantly, Tim said softly, “I hoped that would be the case.” Then he bent his head and kissed Eric.
As Sam started singing “S’ Wonderful, S’ Marvelous” Eric couldn’t help but agree.
After that, Sam invited Bill up to sing “On the Street Where You Live.”