Untitled conflict

Repulsion and attraction

Early 2004 era

Daron Malakian is an average guitarist who "belongs" in the alternative metalband System of a Down. He's been a proud member for 10 whole years, and he cannot imagine another life than taking off his pants on stage to a specific song - well, don't we all have a song that turn us on? However, he has bonded greatly with the three others; John, Shavo and Serj. He could never imagine another life without these righteous buddies by his side. As the youngest member, he would have expected one of them to pick on him for actually being the youngest, like a little brother, or that he talks passionately about sex now and then. But how they agreed with him on the adult topics, was another thing for him. It's a nice feeling for him - almost too nice, he thinks.

It would be awful to say that they all shared common kinks, in a way where they would end up in orgies, four times a day, around midday; but sex is worth the mention only. Never have they thought of a jack circle, nor will it ever occur within their minds at all costs. They don't share it with physical contact, thank God. Well; the easiest way to share the love is to nap a Playboy magazine from anyone's hands and point out who's hot. That, however, embarrasses Daron, if the magazine is his. He hates it when he experiences "kink shaming", but he's not being shamed; no, he's being honored for his likes and dislikes. But that discomforts him even more. "Stop, give it back!" He whines, but hides the whine with giggling. Because why the hell would he want to show that he cared, like he was a young child who got his new toy taken away by big bullies? He is the man of sarcasm, he only responds with sarcasm, sarcasm is his power. In each and every one of his interviews, he cracks a joke or answers something very invalid, but he passes, and is not begged for an appropriate answer. He hides his annoyance, he hides negativity and discomfort when it's not needed. Oh, if only he could hide his shyness and nervousity. Daron Malakian loves intimacy, he loves sex, he loves all contact with a vagina, but yet he's shy as hell when it comes to intercourse. As said, it is only worth the mention. But a foolish action of his. He can brag, but he doesn't feel like touching the vag.

However, again, he gathers dull feelings, feelings that repulses him from female organs, even the thought of females. Of course, he doesn't mind sitting and fantasizing about a young version of Pamela Anderson, or a 1980s Sigourney Weaver by his side. He will be attentive over any cleavage, any curves and any petite smile that passes him throughout his day. Anyway, he finds women pure and not least hot, but he's repulsed. He's bored. He has seen it all, he feels.

Now he notices his other surroundings. Now he bothers to notice that there are other people in his life, in the streets, in existence, that are born with dicks and beards. He notices that guys can be decent, that guys can be almost as cute as girls, and that guys can amaze him like girls can. Seems like someone has caught his attention this time.

Daron Malakian catches himself thinking about this person, this human being, this person he finds not so invalid like he used to be.

"Can't be that hot." Daron argues with himself when he lays his eyes on the other man's profile and looks.

"I guess some people find him attractive, but I don't see it." He investigates the man with his eyes while he's not aware. Fine enough - so Daron can adore the man's looks, his talk, his being, his self, oh, God forbid his existence. The man loses himself easily in light conversation topics, which makes it much easier for Daron to figure the fuck out why he's so caught up in creepily watching a man he finds so attractive. He could not picture himself naked with this man, but he can think back to old memories he shares with him, while in the band and outside the band. There is only one band these two people are bonding from, only one band they've been seen together in, where they are seen as two perfectly good friends. "Good friends?" Daron asks himself while he continues to glare at the man of his dreams, "good friends?" He asks again, having the feeling of being blindfolded by himself. "Good friends?"