They were just at the bar. Holding a glass of whiskey, waiting a while for a special someone to drop by to see their chances. His name was Michael Angelo. He was a wonderful soul that loved a good time, no matter the size. He unfortunately didn't have the greatest of parents. Coming from a small town with small brained people isn't the greatest life to lead. This was a problem for Michael. His father was the local priest and his mother, a housewife. Together the two could make it a living hell for their one and only child, Michael. Slapping him whenever they saw anything he did be even remotely homosexual. So Michael left, went to live that big city life. But instead of spending the night enjoying his brand new penthouse, or working away at new music, Michael was at the bar. That's when he walked in. Alexander Beckett. A young man from the country of Iraq. Michael turned as the door was the creaky wooden type, just to fall in love with the Alexander Beckett. A young woman followed Alexander, but Michael's eyes were both on Alex. Something within Michael told him to go and ask out this new love. Yet he pondered, waited for a sign that this could be a chance awaiting to be grasped. But whilst he felt madly in love, seeing a young woman next to this man made Michael's hopes and dreams flutter out of reach. He ordered another drink. Waiting and waiting for a sign. Then he got it.
