My Life Beyond Fantasy (Part 3): No One Else To Blame

-11:45am: airport; a week later-

I hate running from things. But it’s the only way I can deal. And I always do it. Whether it’s trying to get away from a problem at school, or with friends – I just try and deal with it on my own…away from everyone else.

Well – this is as close as it gets.

“So, you ready for this trip?” 

I look behind me. And it’s him. My Carl.

“Damn ready!” I reply. Oh, by the way – I can hide how I really feel…very well. Too well I think. 

“Over-pack much?” Carl asks trying to get his boarding pass out. I stare at the three bags of luggage I have, plus carry on. I may be higher-maintenance than I realize. 

“Nahh…we’ll be gone like a week – you can never over-pack for a trip to The Turks” I do my best fake smile. 

He laughs.

“The Flight will begin momentarily, please bring your tables in up-right positions and our safety video will be played shortly

-12:00pm: airplane-

“I hope this isn’t going to interfere with any of your school work,” my dad says while bringing his seat up.

Bullshit – like you care. 

“Nope. I’m good – I got friends to keep me updated.” 

“That’s good. So do you want something to drink, you look like shit – didn’t get a good night sleep?” 

“No. I’m fine. Thanks dad.” 

He smiles, and closes his eyes for a semi-dad-nap. I hate him. 

Someone nudges me. I jump too fast. 
I look to the side, and I see Carl with a perplexed smile. 

“Are you SURE you don’t want anything to drink?” he says with a grin, and points to the gin and tonic he’s holding. Ah, the perks of First Class. Have as much as you want, whenever you want.

…Drink wise.

I’m about to respond, but [again] get cut off by….

♪”I AIN’T NO HOLLABACK GIRL, I AIN’T NO HOLLA BACK!” ♪

Fuck. My sidekick. The thing I don’t even know how to use.

I fumble while trying to answer it.

“DUDE!! – where the fuck are you?”

Dino. Shit.

“Dino, I’m, uh, on a plane to Turks & Cacaos...I’m on a business trip with my dad..”
“Ha! Since when do you do trips with your dad?!” he yells into my ear. I get up and try and run to the lounge…“Shut the fuck up! He’s here, you know?”

He sneers a laughing sneer. “Seriously man, where you at?” he says trying not to laugh.

“On a plane…seriously, Dino -I’ll email you when I get there.” I reply leaning against the fashion-made-over wall.

“Shit – you ain’t jokin…man, you didn’t show up last night, and you’re like trying to avoid me now. Did I do something?”

Yes, Dino is straight – contrary to how he likes to say his words. But he’s like my older brother…way too manly and masculine to be gay. And happens to be like the most popular guy in school - & for some reason only speaks to me like that. 

So, I laugh, and continue…”Stop being so damn self-absorbed, not everything is about you, man.” 

He laughs. 

“Oh shit, Chelsea saw me – YO, dude email me about what the fuck is up with you lately…we never talk anymore. Aight? I gotta book, man. Lates – EMAIL ME!!” 
And he clicks off. And I just stare at my phone/camera/…whatever this thing is. 

So, to tell you the truth – Dino is hott. He really is hott. And if he wasn’t my friend I would be jacking off to him every night. 

He can’t know. About any of this. Ever. 

And I realize that’s not something so healthy for a friendship - but he would literally freak. Not that Dino is a homophobe, but I know him…and he doesn’t really deal with news very well…as hott as he may be.

Which brings me to this. Its one of the many things I’m running from. 

I’m scared shitless. And the more I think about it, the more it gets me angry. 
And I couldn’t stop crying yesterday. For no good reason, but the fact that I kept picturing it. All day. I decided to skip off school and hang at the mall.

Dad has a business trip (like every week..), so I decided to take advantage. I’ve decided - If you have a problem, flea the country. 
Seriously, though? – I’m lost.

I’m so fuckin’ lost, I want to crawl up into a fetal position and die right now. I can’t…I just can’t think about it.

But all I can remember are his eyes. And how intense he looked.
And it gives me knots in my stomach thinking about it.

“Sir, the plane is about to take off now – please take your seat” 

I jump. Again, too fast. 

“Oh.” I reply…and look at him.

“Ooooh…” I look at him and he’s too attractive to be an attendant, “ Of course, thanks.”

“WOOOO!!” Carl jumps into the pool with the hottest bathing suit ever, perfectly cupping his dick. 

Is it odd that that he’s 32, but such a kid at heart?
He’s adorable.

-5:05: Turks & Caicos; Hotel Point Grace”

I watch from my lounge chair. Going through my Blackberry, trying to delete all the stupid downtown party notices I get nightly. 

“Brandon, come on in! This water is heaven.”

No, you fucking my brains out is heaven.

“Haha, no thanks Carl – I’m good here.” I say, trying my hardest not to sound like a queen. 

I can’t stop staring at him. 

I look over and there’s this guy eyeing Carl. He has light brown hair, perfect shoulders, and his eyes make you feel like your getting a massage by five hot guys. He’s gorgeous. And he’s eyeing MY Carl.

OK – maybe I should stop calling him that.
But, seriously, that idiot! – ‘Dude, stop staring at him!!’ I think, telepathically trying to let him know.

He looks over, and sees my disgusted look.
And he smiles.

“Come on, you socialite- can’t you get away from your TO. life for like two seconds?”

I look up, and Carl is standing over me.

Dripping wet.

Smiling. Like ALWAYS.
“Fine!” Carl says and walks away

He then grabs my lounge chair, and I go flying into the pool. And he jumps in after me, laughing.

“So are you enjoying this trip so far?”

-7:15: Dinner At The Hotel-

“Yeah…this is fun.” I try and smile, and quickly take a sip of my OJ

“Good” my dad replies, and continues “ Look, Brandon – I really want to find the time to start spending some time with you, and I thought you being on this trip with me would really…”

RING-RING-BEEP.

“Sorry…hold on.” He picks up his phone and answers.

Ironic, right? This is my dad. It’s just the way he is, and I don’t even know what the fuck he’s trying to pull, but I swear to god that guy from the pool is looking at me. What the fuck? He’s scowling at me. WHAT? I scowl back, and he tries to imitate me – and smiles. 

Can I lick your bicep?

“…what?” my dad is now staring.

“Nothing. Sorry. Who was that?”

“Carl, he just finished with our accounting meeting. The clients don’t seem very happy, and…”

“And…what?..” I say, not really wanting to know what he’s about to say.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but I think I have to let Carl go.”

“Are you shitting me?” I reply a bit too loudly.

“Brandon! Watch your language…and no, I’m not…shi—I’m not joking, Brandon. And, so I brought you on this trip because I need you to try and fill in for Carl, I mean I understand you can’t do everything he has done, but I really think you could..

“Wait…but, you just said you brought me on this trip to ‘spend time with me’” I look at him, now realizing he’s just the biggest egotistical full-of himself loser, who only cares about his company. 

“..Well yeah, that too – but I’m going to need…”

“Dad, you know what? Its fine, call me when you need me.” 

I get up. Fuming, but not showing it, because what my mom taught me was whether your fuming of anger, or about to slap the person you’re talking to – always leave with dignity, class, and without making a scene. 

So, I pour my orange juice on and his new Fall Collection Armani suit. 
“Hey, dad – catch!” 

And to tell you the truth – I don’t really care about class, or making a scene.
People are staring at me. 

And I’m gone. 

“Ooohhh, look who it is!”

-7:30pm: Our Suite – 

“Carl…what are you doing?” I asked standing at the doorway. 

“Nuttin – I’m just having some drinks from our good friend-ly Mr. Mini Bar here…” he pats the fridge. 

“You know those cost a fortune..” I say putting my phone on the table, and walk over to him.

We have a 2500 sq ft. suite for my dad, myself, Carl, and two of their associates. It’s too Tuscan style for me. And this is obviously alone time our friend Carl. 

“Well – ‘m sure you can afford it, riiiight?” he nudges me.

He’s on the ground, and he looks miserable. Which concludes that he drinks like a fish.

I look around, and the place is trashed. Vodka bottles on the floor, his suitcase open and clothes half in the dresser half on him. 

“So, then why don’t you tell me what happened?” I sit beside him on the floor. 

“You know Brit-nany?..No, course noot…” He says trying to look me in the eye while stumbling over his words.

I stare at him blankly. Trying to be sympathetic. “Ah, so she must be the secret girlfriend.” I say. And I take a shot.

“SECRET!? NAOH. NO SECRET TO THAT….I’ve been fucking her in my office..boy she loved that..we did it on my desk, on my chair, on my laptop, on the floor, on my couch on my..”

Insert cringing = now.

“Okay, thanks – I got it.” I stand up and look at him; and see that he looks beyond shit, and fuck – my SOB of a father is going to fire him…

“The lil’ bitch cheated on me with some two-timing fucker who has less money than me and bluer eyes that her.”

I laugh a little. “Well, money really isn’t everything, is it?”

“I know! THAT’S WHAT *I* SAID!...you know?”

“Um, yeah – of course I know…So, why don’t we get you in the shower, and maybe get some sleep?” I say while trying to pick him up.

“You know, you have bluer eyes that most people too, you know?” he says staring into me.

“Umm..Carl, my eyes are brown.” I look at him and smile

“But, like bluer, brown.”

“OK, I, uh, think we need to get you into bed now…” He leans into me. Still drunk. Still smelling like whisky. 

And he brings his lips to mine and starts kissing me. He shoves his burning tongue down my mouth and I’m on fire. He tastes like cigarettes and alcohol, but I don’t care, because HE’S KISSING ME.

WHAT THE FUCK.

|“Oh, yeaah – come on, you like that don’t you, rich boy?”|

I shiver. FUCK.

I have to pull back. And he just looks at me like I kicked his favorite puppy dog.

“Wha?…I thought you wanted this…” he says trying to find his balance.

I look away. I can’t shake that feeling of being fucked, inside and out, not wanting it, not wanting anyone to touch me.

I step back. Not know what the fuck to do. Shit – and now I’m shaking.

“Come on, Braandon – I see the way you like to look at me..i’m not stupid, and neither are you –“ he tries to kiss me again, and I push him off.

I run out, and I’m in the hallway. I can’t even look at anyone. Because all I feel is the weight of that guy on me, shoving his dick down my throat, swallowing his cum, gagging because he shoots too much. Trying to bite him, but crying because he’s not letting go of me.

//And it beeps//

I look at my Blackberry and its’ Jess. Of course. 
- - - - - - - - - - - -
To: Brandon K.J ************@hotmail.com
From: Jess C. **********@aotf.ca

Hey, I just talked to Dino – what’s going on? He’s really worried about you. So is Jon, and Chris and, well everyone! You never told me you were going to The Turks. I’ve been trying to call you for like a week. So, call me, okay?

I love you,
Jess.
Ps. Why didn’t you bring me? J 
- - - - - - - - - - - -

I don’t know why, but it makes me cry. Again. Fuck this stupid life. 

Realization: There’s no point in running from your problems, because they either get worse unnoticed, or they follow you to the country that you would least expect them to be. Fuck it. I’m over this. I wipe my tears from my eyes, and walk down the hallway.