The Relationship

1: Not a Relationship

It wasn't technically cheating if we weren't in a relationship.

For some reason, that kept running circles around in my head as I sat at the bar, running my finger lazily around the rim of my drink. I wasn't entirely sure why I felt like I had to reassure myself. It was a simple fact. What I had going on with those two was not a relationship.

Relationships, by definition, were healthy affectionate connections with another person. Sure, they could be platonic, but in the romantic sense, it was nothing like I had. A romantic relationship was full of love and compassion, kissing in the rain, flowers and fluffy gifts, watching movies and cuddling on the couch.

Relationships were not some random hook up that began a long string of hook ups that lasted since fucking high school. Relationships did not include an extra person, who was also a total fucking dickhead and liked to bully you in the bedroom. Relationships weren't really wild sex nights that left me aching at work the next morning.

What I had with those two was not a relationship.

Therefore, my ass looking for a midnight fling was not cheating.

I took a sip of my drink, listening to the ice cubes click and clack around inside. I glanced once more around the bar. It wasn't quite what I was expecting, but then, frankly, I didn't go to bars often. This bar was just recommended as the best gay bar in town. I had been expecting stuff to be a little louder and more flamboyant event, given its website with pride flags plastered everywhere.

In reality, it was an average bar. Formerly an Irish pub, the place had a classic, traditional feel to it, but instead of framed photos of big white Catholic families, it was photos of the staff or local pride parades, and even just photos of regulars enjoying themselves. Somehow, it was warmer that way. The music came from black speakers that blended in with the shadows created by old metal rustic lamps that hung from the ceilings. The music wasn't, like, Kesha, or Ed Sheeran or anything. It wasn't so much new age pop or hip hop, but just a low key mellow rock that no one was really listening to.

There were handfuls of people scattered throughout, mostly regulars, in a group, with people they already knew or were dating. Not really any single people.

Rather, not anyone looking for a nighttime fling.

Sighing, I cocked my head and frowned down at my glass.

What was the point? It was the same thing back in high school.

My school wasn't full of small town homophobes, or big flamboyant LGBT pride. It was just an average school with a few kids that were part of a gay club, but nobody really noticed them or discriminated against them. And they were all already in relationships too. I'd only joined because it was a requirement for me to join a club. I'd joined the club and it turned out, nobody was really interested in talking to a quiet chubby Asian kid who dressed more like he was attending a private school than a public school.

My parents immigrated to America from Japan way back in the day. They still kept the culture around, things like looking nice for days when I went out, which included school. Neat slacks, ironed polos with folded collars, stiff messenger bag for my books, and I wasn't even allowed to get cool reading glasses. Nope, plain black plastic frames.

It was easy to blend in with the background in high school. I pretty much kept my head down most of the time anyway-- literally. I spent most of high school watching my feet, wondering how the fuck my shoes stayed so nice. My mom sure as hell didn't clean them. She'd told me it was my responsibility to keep my clothing clean, hence why she'd taught me to do my own laundry when I was twelve.

What really made it hard being gay in high school was seeing everyone else with boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the members of my club had boyfriends and girlfriends. Thomas Anderson was dating Greg Fooley from the next town over. Mila Rae Osborn was dating Tracy Edwards from psychology. Derrick St. Clair was dating Trenton Sawyer. Then there was Alex Reynolds and Roman Grey, the president and vice-president. They were the weird couple that everyone just fucking adored.