17 • The Date

It's not going to be fair if Beau finds a boyfriend in his first month living in Chicago and I've never found one. In 25 years. I'm not complaining about my relationships because they've all been passionate and good (while they lasted), but I can't help but notice how Beau is finding someone who is willing to be his boyfriend publicly and I've never managed to meet someone who wants that with me.

Fuck all of them.

Fuck Beau and his pretty face and his athletic body and his average macho personality just like everyone else.

They're boring and I'm not, at least I have that small consolation.

"It's not bad to be different," I mutter to myself when I meet my eyes in my mirror. My hair is a mess, but I'm wearing my favorite pajamas, a shirt from the little boys' section that fits over my belly button and loose pants, leaving my midriff on display.

I'm sexy and I know it, but that's never been the problem. I have hundreds of men admitting that, but none of them are willing to be seen with me. To love me.

That's why women are just better. At everything. And I like them much better than men in every possible way, but the old trauma of never being enough for a male piece of shit has always forced me to desire a completely public relationship with one of them. Just to prove to myself that I'm worthy of it.

And I know Beau is just a prototype in which I'm associating my hatred with men in general, but I think he deserves it. If only he had been nice to me in the beginning, I wouldn't have a single problem with him.

After the fourth glass of wine, I'm drunk. And angry.

"Pinky, what's wrong?" Vic asks when he answers my call, "Are you okay?"

"I need a favor and I'm willing to pay, for it" I say, before I realize how my words sound, "It's nothing sexual, by the way."

"Hmm... okay, tell me what you need."

Beau

"Good morning, Victor," I greet when I arrive at the building. Vic jumps a little in his chair, as if I've startled him, but smiles toward me afterward. I put my wrist on the scanner and walk in, trying to hide my excitement at finally getting the chip. I know it's no big deal, but it makes me feel a part of it all.

Not just as an imposter who stole an idea but as someone who deserves to be here. Who is good enough.

I spend most of the day cooped up in the office with Cain as I have for the last two weeks. Today we're really working, although he's doing most of the working on the technical side and I'm just explaining how it will all work once it's done.

"I need to send this to Gerard," mutters Cain as he finishes the first code for the prototype. We're a long way from finished, but at least we'll have something physical to work with.

As Cain writes an email to his partner, whom I almost kissed at the event, Vic walks into the office.

"Hi guys," he greets as he enters, sounding strange. Vic always seems confident and assured. And he never comes up to our offices, so I don't really understand what he's doing here, "Have you guys had lunch yet?"

"Not yet," Cain answers without looking up, "Why?"

"Maybe we can all go to lunch? I don't know, to get to know each other better," he offers quietly. Cain raises his eyes then and gives him an accomplice smile.

"I have to finish what I'm doing, but Beau is already free. Go together," he says, winking at Vic in a not-so-subtle way that makes me want to say something out loud, but I stop myself.

"Uhm, sure. Let's go," I agree, getting up from my chair and walking over to him. Vic is Sam's size, so I feel like a giant walking beside him until we reach the front desk, "Where would you like to go?"

"There's a coffee shop near here, it's my favorite," he says, still sounding oddly nervous. Maybe if he'd acted this way around me from day one I wouldn't think it was weird, but he's never been like this. I'm tempted to see a bit of the future to see if it will have any impact on my life, but I don't think it's anything relevant, so I just go with it.

A few minutes later, when we get to the coffee shop, Vic seems to relax. We order food and chat for a few minutes about the people I've met so far.

"So... is it true that you have a date with Dylan Wraght?" he asks suddenly and I almost choke on my food. Vic gives me a falsely innocent smile, "I'm sorry, was it a secret?"

"Not exactly, but I don't understand how you know."

"Oh, Samantha told me," he replies, moving his salad back and forth without eating much, "Cain told Pinky, Pinky told Samantha and she told me, but I promise I won't let the gossip spread any further."

I put a hand over my eyes and regret agreeing to that fake date with Dylan. I don't know how I feel about so many people thinking I'm going out romantically with another man.

It's awkward. I don't like it.

"I'm just going to accompany him as a friend," I mumble, knowing that maybe I sound too stupid. If I know nothing is going to happen between us, I shouldn't feel that way, "Whatever, it's just a gala."

"That's the thing, Beau. A gala isn't 'just a gala', they're important," he starts to explain, making me feel cold, "They're pretty important social events. Everyone who's anyone will be there, including you. That's why it's such an interesting topic for us. Dylan has never taken a date to any kind of event... so you must be special."

"I'm not special," I spit, sounding more annoyed than I should, "Fück, it's just a favor! You know what? I'll go to the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute."

I get up from the table so I don't explode at the company receptionist and walk to the bathroom just to wash my hands and wet my face.

When I saw this future and saw all the wonderful things that would come into my life with it, I never saw even a hint that it was all that gay. Gay this, gay that, everything is fücking gay.

Now not only do I have a future husband but all the important people in Chicago will see me as another man's date.

So that means that soon I will be just a gay whore to all of them, instead of the respectable, successful man I wanted to be.

I don't know at what point this happened or how I missed something so big and important. Maybe I was too blinded by money, or maybe I made a catastrophic mistake at some point. And worst of all, no matter what I do, that sick fück Pinky is obsessed with me now and won't leave my life for no damn reason. Every single thing I do makes it worse and the only thing I could do to save myself is to fuck him.

So I always lose. 

I lean against the sink and drop my head between my shoulders. I hate this. If I had known all this before I chose this path, I wouldn't have taken it.

I give myself a few seconds to dig into the future one more time and nothing has changed.

Well, actually... something has. Something that makes me gasp and meet my eyes in the mirror in disbelief: the timeline has changed.

Now the beginning of my relationship with Pinky is even closer than before. About two or three months only.

"What the fuck?" I ask myself, "What did I do now?"

It's the date.

The date with Dylan changes everything. Pinky's jealousy is a nuclear bomb. And now I'll have to spend my whole life with a jealous husband who will always suspect I'm fücking one of my best friends.

Oh, great. Amazing. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.

It's either that or I could go another route where I simply refuse to go to that gala with Dylan but screw everything up in different ways. Dylan would hate me as much as he hates Cain and would find a way to fuck up my new artifact, ruining my successful future and everything I saw for myself before. The money, the recognition, it all goes away. And yet, that motherfucker is still obsessed with me and still by my side.

I let out a growl that comes from deep inside my gut and my fist heads for the bathroom mirror before I can control myself.

"Ah! Fuck!" I cry as the pain spreads through my hand and blood begins to spurt out from my knuckles. Someone enters the bathroom urgently, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I'll pay for the mirror. It was an accident."

The teenage coffee shop worker steps back in fear but nods before exiting the bathroom to speak to someone, probably the manager. I curse once more and run my hand under the water to clean the mirror shards off my skin.

Damn Pinky. He's to blame for everything.