Cult of Syn MxM (Staten Krown)

2

"This is my cousin Syn," Sampson says.

Cousin? We dated off and on for years. When the FUCK did I become his cousin? I want to roll my eyes out of it's fucking sockets. I guess there was a reason he was lying to this woman.

She is a latin woman I assume. She looks a little like Eva Longoria if Eva Longoria were a little bit more of a basic bitch. It's not that this lady is ugly. No. She's beautiful. She has a real humble kind of beauty though. She has on a sun dress with ugly flowers on it and no make up. She smiles a little too wide. She's probably a 10 in whatever stupid ass city this was but she'd probably be a nice 7 in a big city. She is shorter about 5'2".

"Family? Oh my god," she says, "I'm so glad I get to meet more of your family. Come here!"

The woman leans forward. She grabs me. She pulls me close and I guess attempts something like a type of hug. It fails miserably because I'm awkwardly standing there like a dead plank of wood. I look behind this lady and see her two kids standing there. They are staring up at me. They are both young. I'd say 6 and 4. The girl was a little older. They look just like Sampson. It hurts. It's painful. I shouldn't give kids nasty looks but I'm mean mugging the FUCK out of these kids while their mother attempts to squeeze some emotion out of this hug.

The mother fails and awkwardly backs up.

"I'm Dahlia," she tells me.

A basic name for a basic girl.

"Of course you are," I respond.

She doesn't know how to take it. I can see her eyes searching for some sort of understanding as she looks at me. She doesn't get it and she gives me this weird awkward laugh as though assuming I'm making some sort of joke that went over her head. When I don't return the joke she just smiles, weakly attempting desperately to save this first impression.

"Dahlia, why don't you take the kids inside while I catch up with my cousin?" Sampson says.

"Of course. I'm hoping you can join us for dinner," Dahlia smiles.

She reaches over and touches my shoulder. I look at her hand on my shoulder. I stare darts into it and squint wondering why she thinks she is that comfortable to do something like this.

Sampson smiles at his wife. He kisses her. It makes me sick to my stomach. I literally think I am going to cry. Chaney can sleep with a million men. It didn't hurt like this. This was something different. This was something deeper. This was the most turning pain I'd ever felt in my life. No crazy scheme came to mind. I could never go there with Sampson. Sampson was above that kind of bullshit. Sampson was the reason why after 7 years I could never find happiness.

Sampson takes me out on the porch. The cold Southern wind is ripping in the air. The breeze whispers slowly towards us. It tickles me. As I look over his porch there is nothing but farmland. This had to be some sort of joke. What the fuck did Sampson know about farmland?

"I need to know if you are going to start some shit around here," Sampson tells me.

"Relax. I won't tell your wife that you are gay," I respond.

I can't help but to sit next to him in one of the lounge chairs. He's beautiful sitting there. He is in his late 20s. He's looks more physically built then before. He looks a lot manlier too. His copper skin seems to have more texture to it. He looks like a country boy now. He jeans are ripped. There are several rips, a few right below his crotch area. His legs look like fucking horse legs. They are strong and solid. I can't help but to stare at them. He must notice it as well. He stares out into the nothingness.

"She knows...I had a troubled past," Sampson.

"Troubled?"

Strange use of word. What kind of shit is that?