INVICTUS

XIII

And so

Your yearning heart

Thunders against

The night sky

It was a quiet Saturday night when I decided that it was probably a good time to tell my parents about my newly realised sexuality. I've never really asked them for their stance on LGBT rights, but since they voted yes on the plebicide last year I guess it wouldn't be too bad.

When I arrived into the living room they were listening to an old track on the gramophone, I instantly recognised the song as Queen's 'Somebody to Love'. I also instantly realised the perfect way to come out to them.

"So I see your listening to Freddie Mercury." I say. "You know I recently found out I have something in common with him."

Dad looks up at me.

"And what would that be buddy?"

It's now or never Rhys.

"I'm gay." I manage to say. "Like really extremely gay. I know what your thinking that I should have had this crisis when I was fifteen or something but I figured tha-"

I stop talking because my parents look at me horrified. Mum drops her wine glass, it shatters against the floorboard. Before I knew I was running out of the door across the lawn and jumped over the fence the separated us from Salih's house. I knocked on his wooden door furiously. Mrs. Sarfraz opens it.

"Hello Rhys." She greets. "Is everything alright."

"Yeah..."I say, I'm panting. "Is Salih here?'

She starts shouting in Arabic and the only words I could make out were 'Salih' and 'Rhys'. You'd think I'd understand a few words of Arabic by now, sure I can. Just not when they're being spoken like rapid fire. Finally his head pops out of the door.

"Hey man you good?" He asks. "You wanna come in?"

For the first time in a long time I feel like an intruder in their house.

I suddenly eye the dull glint of his motorbike from the corner of my eye.

"Can we ride out? On the highway?"

He seems confused. After all I hate going on his bike.

"Sure lemme get my jacket and the helmets."

He rushes in and I can hear him speaking to his mother in Arabic, probably giving a valid excuse for our late night outing. He comes back out clad in his leather jacket and offers me a helmet. I put it on and get on his bike.

It's a Harley Davidson Heritage Classic of you were wondering. Yeah his family's rich.

It stirs beneath me, a predatory low seductive growl as he speeds up. In times like these I used to cling on to him like a lifeline but today I let the thrill of the speed pass through me. It's faster than the wind and almost as passionate as sin. A whoop of joy escapes without my permission. I find myself revelling in the sight of Salih cocking his head to the side, surprised by my sudden outburst.

My unexpected joy ends as Salih veers his motorbike swiftly to the left of the highway. He slides off the asphalt crunching beneath his leather boots, as he takes off his helmet. The solitary headlights illuminate his features, mature planes emerging from his otherwise boyish face, framed by sleek black hair. He was an angel clad in leather.

"What's up Rhys?" He asks.

"It's nothing." I say.

"I never thought you'd be the ones to initiate late night joy-rides," he remarks skeptically. '