just like any day, my feet drag me to the only place i let my mind go. to la sierra theatre. it wasn't somewhere a 16 year old boy like me should even go to. everybody says i don't have an eye for girls, i don't. some men are stupid enough to think that girls are just fishes that gets caught with whatever dumb bait they have (tyler keeler even used his mom as bait).
i'm not one for the ladies.
i'm only one for this boy.
entering the theatre made me feel less stressed about myself. everything hae been pressuring lately, from school, grades, parents, college, peers. i don't even have a choice on what to do with my life.
"barnaby, what will you do after high school?" "have you picked a course?"
"pick this, i'll be very proud" "no, pick this!" "barnaby! barnaby!" .. no.
it felt painful to endure, every late night counts as a day i haven't cried my eyes out. i just wanted to let it go. i just wanted to let go. so i came here, hoping i'd clear my thoughts. get my life together, my life isn't a movie being directed. i'm the director, and the actor.
seeing the place again, reminded me of people whom i've admired since i knew about theatrical arts. it was wide, as any theatre should be, and its seats were lined up, inclined to the top of the stairs. the seats were furnished with oak, it's old but it felt like home. the stage looked wide enough to fit 200 people, and of course, at the center. stood, him.
my heart skipped two beats, i should probably get that checked out, but seeing him there, looking at me with those glistening auburn, almost red eyes, staring back at my grey ones felt wonderful. he looked wonderful.
my feet dragged me towards him and him, being him, pulled up a cocky grin that thought i was crawling back to him. he had this little mole on the corner of his lips, that i swore; if i had a chance, i would kiss it and tell him how pretty it was on his face.
i stopped, infront of the 2 feet high, stage. "funny seeing you here, barnaby" i cracked a smile. "likewise, lee." that earned a chuckle from him, he moved towards me and offered a hand; which i gladly took as he pulled me up. "any reason as to why were both here at the same time again?" he walked around me, then jumped infront of my face. "you didn't go here because it's laundry sunday, right?" he was being smirky again.
"i swear that pride of yours is going to be the death of us all."
"please, you're already dead for me."
i stopped walking around. i know he meant it as a joke but boy, was he right. i'm dead for him. literally.
"ha ha, lee. very funny"
it took us moments after we've talked. it was the silence that was comfortable for the both of us anyway. his red converse, tapping on the wooden floorboards, my sweater creating static sounds. our breathing in sync and it was almost as if he was following me breathe or i was following him. nonetheless, the quiet it nice. it's relieving.
"yo, bubba-" pissed, i said, "don't call me that." he popped his lips. "i can call you whatever i want, shut up." i rolled my eyes, then turned to face him. "wha-" he pulled me in between his legs, letting me wrap them around my waist. my cheeks are burning.
he held my waist close, i could feel his breathe on my neck and i can't look at him. i cannot look at him, but he looked at me. "barnaby.."
i took a deep breathe and slowly inched forward.
"end scene!" we fell back, breathing. the director shouted from below the stage.
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hah
