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The Queer Singer

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Her lips and hands are demanding and it's hard to defend my dominance. She is pressing her pretty chest against mine while my hands are resting on her ass. I catch myself thinking about how firm it is and wonder whether this is the result of daily yoga or simply good genes. Either way, these cheeks make me weak and if I could, I would…

"F*ck her." Did she just read my mind?

Kira looks at her vibrating phone, rolling her eyes. "My sister is calling me."

"Just Ignore her."

She sighs and shakes her head. "She'd keep trying. One sec." She smiles at me apologetically and answers the phone.

"Yes, what do you want? No, I'm not. I'm busy... What? No! Yeah, screw you too."

She ends the call quickly and throws her phone on the bed. I pull her closer again to continue our make out session but she pushes me away.

"Are you not going to ask me why she called?"

"Uhm…"

Since when do we have actual conversations about our lives? I mean, we did have those when we first met but only to get into each other's pants. Right?

Okay, let me try.

"Why did she call?"

Kira seems a bit annoyed by my half-assed interest. "Nevermind. Just know you're lucky that you don't have siblings."

I bite my lower lip. No siblings. Yes, that's what I told her. I figured since I'm dead there's no need for me to associate with my previous life any longer. The way I know my parents, they probably weren't all too sad about the news of my death. Well, okay. Maybe they were a tiny bit sad because of some biologically pre programmed love they were forced to feel for me. Or maybe because of the money they had invested in me and my future, knowing very well I wouldn't have one. That's why you don't gamble, kids.

But Alex… Thinking about him does give me a sense of remorse. I thought I had killed off most feelings with the help of alcohol (and in the end myself as well) but apparently there's still some emotion left.

Me and Alex actually got along well and even though I didn't really care much about anyone, I always felt obliged to protect my little brother. And I did, or at least I tried. I protected him from bullies, teachers, my parents, himself and in return he kept me sane. To some degree. I hope he misses me. No, I know he does because compared to me, Alex is actually a decent person.

Before I can get lost in thoughts any further, Kira kisses my cheek. "Anywho, I'm hungry. Let's go have dinner, I think they have scampi at the buffet tonight. If we're lucky there's still some left."

She takes my hand and pulls me out of the room, leaving my emotions behind

The restaurant is packed, a show just started and Mike, one of the entertainers, is sitting on a stool on stage, playing some gooey tunes on his guitar.

It's Tuesday and Tuesday night is always La Noche de Amor. Every. Single. Week. This means all full board guests get to enjoy a candlelight dinner (it's not, it's just a candle on the table and a free glass of champagne) and some romantic high-class musical entertainment (again, not true, how could someone actually enjoy this).

Kira walks over to the buffet and grabs a plate to fill it with the food the hoard of guests hasn't devoured yet.

Of course I'm not hungry at all. Usually I eat something just so nobody would ask any annoying questions. ("I never see you eat. Are you a ghost? Haha!") But today I don't feel like faking it so I just sit down at one of the empty tables in the back that are specially reserved for hotel employees and pull out my phone, letting the overflowing information and data numb my brain.

Scrolling through Instagranny I look at shallow selfies and pseudo inspirational quotes that make you want to poke your eyes out. But hey, it kills time.

When I bought the phone a month ago I had considered following Alex just to stay up to date with his life but that would have only been depressing. Instead I followed Kira so I could look at her bikini pics all day long. She has tried several times to take selfies with me but I've always refused.

When I finally leave earth to go to heaven, I don't want there to be any physical proof of Jordan's existence. Better safe than sorry.

"Get your face out of your phone and talk to me."

I hold back a sigh and look up at Kira who is putting her filled plate on the table. Why is she so needy today? Is she on her period?

I check her dinner. Scampi, salad and the thinnest slice of pizza I have ever seen. Well, as long as her ass stays plump, I couldn't care less about her diet.

She puts the fork in her mouth and starts watching the show. "Finally, he's done."

Mike bows, smiling widely at his applauding audience. Did they all have couscous stuck in their ears or why does it seem like they enjoyed his performance? Or maybe I'm so critical because I've had to listen to this exact set for the past four weeks.

I take a second to think.

Nah, Mike is always awful.

"Oh, that's the new girl I told you about, Judy." "Who?" "The one that...you know what I mean."

No, I don't. But I don't dare to ask. Kira probably did tell me but the chances that I was sober and actually listening are very slim. So I just look back at the stage, hoping that seeing the person will revive my memory.

But the young woman that is now walking over to the mic is not someone you can just forget. No matter how drunk you are.

She must be around my age and I watch her with wide eyes as she grabs the mic stand with slim fingers, using her other hand to push blonde voluminous hair behind her pierced ear. Her pale skin shines under the bright floral pattern of her short tight jumpsuit and the backlight reveals suggestive shadows of humble curves.

My eyes wander over to her slender face. Bright eyes, a perfectly straight nose and naturally plump lips that look so inviting. There is something both angelic and rebellious about her. And I can't look away.

"I heard someone say that...she's queer."

Okay, now I'm looking away.

"Really?" Maybe I sound a tad bit too disappointed but Kira doesn't seem to notice.

"Yes, but whatever. Live and let live, you know? As long as she doesn't hit on me."

It's funny because I used to say exactly that sentence back in highschool when someone got outed involuntarily. Well, at least one of us has matured since then and suddenly I'm annoyed by Kira.

I consider saying something but at that moment the music starts and I get pulled into the most beautiful R&B tunes I've ever heard.

Judy's voice is light and clear and once she reaches the bridge, I know that I have to make her mine. That is, if I stood any chance. Queer. I remember Kira's words and fall back into my chair. Unfortunately, my company notices.

"You seem quiet, everything okay?"

"Yes?"

She raises her eyebrows. "I don't believe that. You never talk with me about your feelings, do you not trust me?"

"That's because I don't have any." She giggles, oblivious to the fact that I wasn't joking.

"When you're dating, you have to communicate and be open, you know?"

When I hear those words, I feel my heart drop, my eyes widen and panic is rising.

We're dating? Like boyfriend and girlfriend? Exclusive? Since when?

"As your girlfriend I have a right to know what you're thinking."

I want to throw up. Kira is hot, yes, but that's about it. Dating her was never part of my plan.

"Sometimes I feel like you don't actually care about me."

I get up, my legs are shaking. "Sorry but I don't feel so good. I'll go to my room."

Kira looks concerned. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think the scampi were bad. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"But you didn't even eat any!"

I don't respond, I just make my way out of the restaurant as quickly as I can and although physically impossible, I fear that I'm going to puke.

As soon as I'm outside, I start running.

F*ck. F*ck, f*ck, f*ck.

I should have been upfront with Kira but honesty has never been my strength, especially not when the truth would cause drama.

I try to breathe but my throat is clogged.

I'm screwed.

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