"Oh, come on, Barry. Come with me. You'll have a ball!"
I just glared at my friend, Ronald. True, it had been awhile since the accident but my arm was still in a cast and my face was still riddled with the livid bruises, visual reminders of the horror I'd suffered through. The horror that still haunted my dreams. The piercing screech of tires, the bright
smash
of breaking glass, the brutal crunch of metal against metal. The face of the passenger in the other car, her eyes wide with fear, facing death. The driver already dead of a heart attack. I closed my eyes and swallowed past the lump in my throat.
"I don't know, Ron. I think I'll sit this one out."
"The fuck you will!" I've known Ronald Handley for three years now. He was a neighbor and became my roommate and has been the best friend I've ever had. He helped the nurses care for me during my prolonged convalescence and never let me drown in the depths of depression when I had to suffer through multiple knee surgeries and the requisite therapy. But I was surprised to see this side of him, especially towards me. He had always been my little 'junkyard dog' but he was a bull mastiff, in full anger mode.
"Ron... "
"No! I'm tired of seeing you sitting around here all day!" He came to the side of my chair, his green eyes imploring. "You've lived through a terrible thing but you can't sit around the rest of your life!"
I sighed, knowing he was right. "But I just don't feel like it."
"I know you don't, love." He patted my left hand, the unharmed, unscarred one. "But you have to try."
I didn't want to try. I wanted to do anything but try. Trying meant that I'd have to start all over. I had no girlfriend and the long scar that nearly sliced my face into halves would make sure that that never happened. Why the hell should I even bother? But then I looked at Ron, my friend, my
true
friend, who had promised that he would take care of me to the end of time. He wouldn't let me down.
"Okay, you bitch." I laughed at his puppy dog eyes. "I'll go."
* * * * *
The event was called Beauty Night, a festivity usually held in reserve for make-up-starved women but since the advent of Queer Eye For The Straight Guy, someone had come up with the brilliant idea to adapt it for us gents. Tonight, Ron's lover, Danny, was hosting the soirée and had secured a representative from Gillette to bring by a host of masculine products. Plus, there was a make-up artist and two hair stylists coming to tart everyone up. I got the feeling that a lot of drag queens would be in attendance.
Danny welcomed me with a huge, gentle hug and a heartfelt smile. "Oh, Barry, I'm so glad that you came out."
The care in his eyes made tears prick my eyes and I stammered past the lump in my throat. "You should thank Ron. He was the one who persuaded me."
Danny gave Ron a hug and a kiss, a promise of things to come. "I'll properly thank him later. In the meantime, why don't we get you lubed up?" He chose the words with a wink, knowing that I was straight and walked me over to the bar. Several other men were in attendance, gay and straight and the Gillette rep was busy setting up his display so he could make the presentation. Everyone was mingling, grouped together, laughing and talking. Except me. I ordered a double Canadian Club whiskey with just a breath of Coke.
"So, how have you been?"
I avoided Danny's eyes and sucked at the drink. "Okay."
"I see you got the knee brace off. Is it still stiff?"