Hypnotised

Chapter 7

 “Matthew? I’m gonna speak seriously to ‘im, Al. He can’t treat you like tha’ whether you like guys or not- it’s not his business either the band’s.” Miles assured a tad bit dismayed after I got round to explaining to him what had been the matter that night he found me in the bleak empty loo.

“Don’t. Please, it’ll just make things worse.” I pleaded even though the look of conviction in his eyes warned me it was pointless.

“I know what I’m doing, don’t worry. Now, ‘bout that David…he was the guy I saw the following morning in yer apartment…” Miles pointed at me with a dubious expression all over his face.

Well of course. What, you think I’m hitting on multiple guys in the span of just hours?

“Yea, ‘bout tha’… what were you doing in my apartment? I mean, I remember you making me smoke pot and then that snazzy car of yours and some… fight?...’bout the seatbelt? That’s as far as my memory kept track of…”

“Spot on. Throwing a sort of languid fit over fastening the belt, you said it you were done with restraints - the same I-feel-suffocated concept appearing yet again, you see - and that you didn’t want ‘tha’ shite any more ye wanted ‘goddamned carrots’…I dunno if I should take tha’ literally?” He let a little giggle out.

“I ‘ate them. They are so tasteless it’s annoying.” I confessed recalling their nauseous stupid flavour.

“No, not really… if you know ‘ow to prepare them, that is [are you a chef now, Kane?]. Anyway, I then coaxed you by promising I was taking you to watch some Wimbledon match right away, which put you really compliant mood [you clever bastard]…and so from there I headed to my place but, given that you were in a sort of sleeping-with-eyes–open state, I decided to take your wallet and keys out of your pockets so that I could take a look at your ID [creepy, that] and well, seeing where you lived wasn’t that far away, I drove you home.”

“And you stayed?” I blurted out nervously. Deep inside, though, I knew Miles wouldn’t be capable of taking advantage of the state I was in.

Besides, he isn’t even gay.

“Yea, I guess you can say I took that liberty… the thing is I couldn’t leave you alone, Al…not only because you might have woken up sort of confused and possibly got anxious over how it was that you ended up there, but also ‘cause I really didn’t know what the fuck you meant when you said you didn’t want ‘them’ to find you. I supposed it wasn’t a minor thing that got you all worked up like that so, just in case, I decided to stick around, in the living room that is…I mean, I helped you yawning stumbling mess to get into bed and I myself stayed out there, on that bonny grey velvet couch watching some crappy yet hilarious sci-fi movies.”

How nice of you.

“Oh!…umm…okay. Thanks…for everything. I didn’t mean to spoil your night out, I’m so fookin’ sorry...If only I hadn’t sent your liquor flying, you wouldn’t have known I was there; such an awful coincidence… ”

“I’m glad you spilt my drink, Al.” He emphasised somberly, nodding slightly.

How am I even supposed to take that?

“Now, back to this David guy…I don’t mean to pry Al, it just proves important for my professional analysis of your anxiety episodes. Things did happen between you two: kissing, from what you’ve told me and, well, I saw you myself acting peculiarly loose around him. Have you had a sort of epiphany regarding your sexual identity?” He asked raising an eyebrow as he examined my face expectantly.