I Kissed a Boy [complet]

Impromptu meeting

—Damn it, Winnie, you can see I'm working!

The young woman stiffened and glared at Gavin. It was late morning at the young man's apartment. He was in front of his computer, stretched like a thread. Winnie put the cup of coffee, a little too hard on the coffee table in the living room, spilling the black liquid around.

—I just asked you if you wanted some coffee! Do you think you're the only one who's stressed?

—Coffee isn't going to relax me!

—But what's wrong with you right now? You are mean with me ! and don't tell me it's because of the article... it's just a freelance article!

She glared at his back. He hadn't even bothered to look at her. Under attack, Gavin turned, frowning.

—Do you think it's not important, Winnie?

— I did not say that ! Gavin! Go get some fresh air, you're... filthy!

He stared at her for a few seconds before turning back to his computer.

— No time. I have this simple unimportant freelance to finish for 1 p.m.

—I hate you when you're like that!

He only heard the front door slam shut behind her. He stiffened. Closed her eyes and sighed slowly.

—Damn it!

          His first instinct was to take his phone to call Amy but he changed his mind. She was right, he had his head down and wasn't paying attention...he knew why, didn't he? It had been two weeks and yet he was still thinking about it. It was not good, not good at all. He managed to act almost normal with Winnie. He kissed her, took her in his arms, caressed her... he compartmentalized. It wasn't healthy, he knew that. Keeping it to himself turned the memory into a fantasy. He couldn't tell his girlfriend about it because it would hurt them both. His gay friends weren't trustworthy enough... he felt very alone with his state of mind. Winnie didn't have to put up with his frustration when she also had important exams in a few months. She was the victim. He sighed again and turned back to his article. He reread it for the tenth time at least but he still found it hollow and uninteresting. In anger, he closed the program and took his laptop. As he was about to message Winnie, he saw that Marc had posted an IG story. He opened it and watched the little fifteen second video showing Marc playing a few guitar notes, leaning over the instrument. The melancholic melody added to Marc's gaze towards the camera, as if he really saw it, hit him right in the heart. His hand was shaking. He closed the app angrily. It couldn't go on any longer! Determined to forget him and forget for good what had happened, he tapped a message to his girlfriend. He knew he would have to crawl for her to forgive him but he would.

           A few kilometers away Marc watched the number of likes rise rapidly under his story and sighed. He was beginning to make himself known... finally! he had been working hard for more than a year writing his own songs, developing his network and multiplying small concerts in the city. His group, the Red Pandas, had a start of reputation to maintain... and that meant new content on a regular basis. But apart from strumming four chords on the guitar, nothing came. He had never had a problem finding the lyrics to songs before, he just had to dig into his emotions and embroider around...it was inconsequential. There, writing was like moving mountains. Nothing was coming. Nothing... shit... He didn't want to rummage through his emotions. He didn't want to face it. The only thing he wanted was to kiss the kid again. He had learned from Amy that Gavin was younger than them... already he was old compared to Amy, he was almost thirty and Amy twenty—six, like Winnie but Gavin was only twenty—three. He also knew that he was trying to break into journalism and that he was freelancing right and left. Gavin also kept a blog specializing in art and entertainment and sometimes covered exhibitions, concerts and other plays. Marc had bookmarked it and was reading a little every night. He had found his IG without difficulty but there was no photo of him on it. The only ones were those taken by third parties who tagged him on it. He had saved one that he kept in a corner of his phone. It wasn't a photo where Gavin looked happy but instead where he looked melancholy. Taken three—quarters, he looked at the sea, without really seeing it. This one among the others, had resonated something in Marc. It was while thinking of this shot that he scratched his guitar. What could be the thoughts that occupied Gavin's mind at this moment? Marc sighed. He realized that his spirit very often brightened towards the young man when he was alone. As long as he was with the others, everything was the same as before, but when he did nothing with his ten fingers, he thought of Gavin and their crazy kiss. The memory was too vivid to be considered a good memory or an amusing anecdote. Marc sighed and stood up. He carefully put away his guitar before looking at the time. It was rehearsal time with the band. He left the downtown apartment a few minutes later, to join his band in the recording studio they were using.