Passion Face

PART 1: PASSION FACE

Prologue

I never struck myself as the type of man to stare at a corpse, but there was something about this one that gave me a sense of compassion; a sense of... lust. Maybe it was empathy, my first thought. 

But I wouldn't alter my view right now if I could, my second. It was rare, the moment between myself & this stranger, deep scarlet, some sort of pull stronger than any I ever felt with anyone whose lips grazed mine. I felt masculinity pulsating throughout my body & soul, watching her. It was almost poetic as she had a cigarette in her hand, untouched by the accident since it fell out of her grasp when she was hit & landed just a few inches away from her body. From my angle, the mild white smoke rising & dissolving into the air could have symbolized her soul escaping to the Heavens. I was finally in love.

Pledging my abstinence had always been a redeeming choice of mine. I was a hit among Generation Xers. It wasn't until I began my first semester at a local college when it became a lack of quality. I was an architecture student, which meant that I was supposed to have lost my virginity & regretted it twice by the time I hit 19. By my third semester, I was hellbent on doing so. Being an introvert, God had the bright idea to pair me with a roommate whose ideas of humour was quacking into my phone when my mother called. It taught me that it was possible for someone to feel praised & motivated by my insults. There was also another guy who spent a lot of time in our dorm room because his was constantly occupied by- not another annoying person- but a pungent smell. He was the nicest person I'd met in a while so I always hoped he'd never think to change his bed sheets. I especially liked how he was named after a dog. You could say Max was my best friend back then. Most people assumed that he had a princess complex because of his unique grey-blue eye colour but it was more of a birth defect to him that made him feel like a foreign object in the college bloodstream. I also knew he struggled with himself from the thin red lines on his wrist. The eyes aren't always bluer on the other side...

We became close enough for him to lure me to a "gathering" (smaller than a party, loud enough for the cops to come). I found it nearly impossible to deny his requests. He reminded me of a screenplay I had written when I was younger about pirates & the way their greed gets them in trouble with the sirens. He lacked the cup size but had twice the charm. I remember feeling nervous on that night, wondering what jokes I could tell. I knew I didn't have enough childhood trauma to be considered cool, the most edgy part of me was that I never knew my dad but that was too mainstream, I'd probably have to say that I murdered him myself to make it to the VIP list. I called my mother just a minute before I left the house, she reassured me that I wouldn't need my tie & I reassured her that I wouldn't need PrEP. I caught up with Max & we were on our way. I refused to drive, for once, because we all were given the inferior car by our parents since statistics showed that we were part of the age group most likely to crash into a pole, so we made nice with one of the cool cafeteria guys who was stoned enough to lend us his Bentley. I was giddy enough to wreck it within minutes. Two other guys hitched a ride with us & all I had to do was laugh at all their jokes. By the end of the ride, one of them had their arm around me. It was a mediocre party, a few drinks & a few girls to match them. Two skinny, clear-skinned Evian water girls, one fiery Redbull & sweet, sweet Brandy. She was more of a wallflower girl, easier to talk to. She looked like she seasoned her food with too much ketchup & her nose was slightly tilted to the left. I liked that about her & I hope she liked it too. It probably came from a hilarious childhood memory that she'd remember forever. Otherwise, I hope she at least liked the parent she got it from. Anyway, this party is where the tragedy began. I always hoped my innocence would go hand-in-hand with my charisma but there I was with the few booming voices I called my friends, mocking my non-existent dating history. Apparently all of them had delved in the art of devotion, even my Brandy. I asked her if her former partner had an overwhelmingly hooked nose but the joke went over her head & straight to her feelings. I guess my relationship status wasn't much of a wonder anymore. I remembered what my mother would say about these parties, she knew she couldn't protect me from them because that would be depriving me of my manhood. The way she described girls to me seemed almost predatory on her part; maybe she was the reason I could never look at a girl's thighs & think about dessert. That was the truth that I could tell even in my sobriety. I wasn't an antisocial, sadistic loner. No girl has ever appealed to me enough for me to pick her flowers or, play with her hair & tell her it smells like roses even if it doesn't. This shocked everyone at the party, I think it even offended them. I told them almost everything that was on my mind, how I appreciated Brandy's vulnerability, how I asked my mother's therapist to marry me when I was six. How I might have liked to kiss Megan from my Building Management class if I had to convince the world that I was straight. That seemed to ease the situation. Max asked if I was willing to lose my kissing virginity (not my words) to her. I considered the idea. There must have been a reason she came to mind. What did I like about her? I always wanted to cut her hair. When she hassled to put her hair up into a ponytail during class once, I was a little tempted to shear her split ends. I told them she had an athletic, hot body. They nodded in approval. The party ended abruptly since it was a week day & we were, sometimes, responsible young adults. Some part of me felt ashamed & uncomfortable & like I needed to get picked up. I didn't want to make it obvious so I was the last one out of the house. It was only when I ushered Brandy out that I found out it was her residence. I waved her a quick goodnight & was about to take my flushed cheeks back to the Bentley when she spoke to me. I read about this once. The girl gets close to your body & suddenly her eyes get larger & lips plump up. I knew Brandy was going to kiss me. It was a gentle peck, as I had hoped for & expected. She didn't seem like the type of girl to give me Tongue City. I worried for a minute if maybe she thought I was a dry-kissing type of a guy, so I discreetly stuck my tongue out, like the first time I tried tuna. She pulled away then, so I knew it was a pity kiss. She smiled at me & slid the door shut.