Authors: Raven Monet
Chapter One
As I sat in the cab of my pickup truck, the gun in my hands felt like a cold, steel answer to my prayers and all I had to do was gently squeeze the trigger for all my problems to disappear. I fought the warm tear that attempted to spring forth from the corner of my right eye but could only admit defeat as I felt it run down my cheek and drip off the tip of my chin. Trembling, I pressed the tip of the barrel into my temple as I groaned, feeling the ache caused by the pressure of the steel into the tender flesh on the side of my head. Telling myself that there was no other way, I pictured my mother’s face and how she would react when I revealed to her a very horrific truth.
I had an image to uphold but when you combine that with the extreme conservative and traditional values that my family held in such high regard, there was no way around the fact that someone was going to get hurt. If I kept my true feelings to myself, I would spiral into another pit of despair and self-hatred that would eventually lead me to place a gun to my head. Funny that the opposite path led to the same destination and as a scorned chuckle escaped my lips I tossed the gun into the glove compartment and screamed,
“Fucking pussy!” If I didn’t even have the courage to admit to my own mother and father that I am gay, how was I supposed to work up the balls to pull the trigger? There is no way in hell that Margaret and Harold Drake would accept the fact that their firstborn son was a homosexual so I would have to keep that tidbit to myself for a while longer. For now, I would take a deep breath and head to the stadium for warmups because I had a game to win. Being the quarterback for the team that was one game away from securing a spot in the Super Bowl, I had to get my shit together and be the man my team needed me to be for just a few more hours. Chad Drake, star of the Drillers and All-American Good Guy, was nothing more than a fraud and I couldn’t hide it any longer nor could I free myself from the shackles that bound me to the truth. If I came forward and sought my own happiness so many people would be disappointed in me but none other than my parents, who were no less than saints in the eyes of so many.
Putting my hand on the helmet in the seat to my right, I shook my head as I said,
“Get em, Drillers.” Turning the key, I wiped my face with the back of my hand and placed my foot on the brake before shifting into reverse and backing out of my garage. The ride to the stadium would only take me about fifteen minutes, which would give me time to get my head together and shake off the fact that I’d just had a chrome .45 to my head. Once before, I worked up the nerve to pull out the gun but couldn’t manage the courage to place it to my head and what scared me the most is that maybe next time, I’ll be a bit stronger than I was this time. If I didn’t do something with my inner demons, there was no telling how bad I could become and I didn’t really want to know. I wasn’t really a bad guy or one of the crazy men who always talked about killing themselves to get much-needed attention. The more normal, on top of things and seemingly perfect I presented myself, the better the outcome in my daily life and as long as I didn’t let the fact that I was utterly alone and living a lie bother me, I would be just fine.
Sounds of electric guitar blared through the speakers of my heavy duty vehicle as the tires roared along the highway and I turned up the air conditioning, blowing the airstream at my face with a tilt of the vent. After a bit of cool air and good tunes, I would be back to normal as far as the naked eye was concerned and once I finished warming up, most would be pushed to the back of my mind to allow me to concentrate on what must be done. Winning had always come easily to me and once I felt the rush of the game, I would be operating at more than one hundred percent. The smell of the ball, roar of the crowd and energy of the men I’ve come to know as my brothers all fed me with an intense vibe that told me I could take over the world. Only on the field could I allow myself to feel alive and be completely myself, sexual orientation aside and leave it all out there with the blood, sweat, and tears. Under the protection of my helmet, I could hide my pain and use it to throw faster and run harder and allow me to turn the pain I felt on the inside into power. Fueled by the knowledge that when I left the field, everything would return to shit, I knew that I had to spend that time living to the fullest which was my secret behind my three, previous Super Bowl rings.
As I walked to the locker room, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and made sure that I showed no signs of weakness or doubt and present my brothers with a confident and reliable quarterback. Whoops and hollers greeted me as I walked through the large metal door, heading to my locker as I bumped fists and met my team with a smile. If they’d seen the faintest sign of fragility in my eyes, the entire momentum that we’d built would be ruined and I couldn’t take the risk of them seeing anything other than the vigor and strength that had gotten us thus far this season. After winning this game, we would play the Super Bowl and finally, be able to take a much-needed break from the constant physical stress that we put our bodies under during regular season. A beach somewhere was what I needed but I still had work to do before I could relax and my first order of business was getting my team pumped about this game and the fact that we were so close to another championship.
I opened my locker and tossed my bag into the floor as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, telling my bright, blue eyes that they were about to see our team grab another victory. After changing into my uniform and gearing up for the game with a pep talk from our coach, Bill Riggs, we took the field filled with the confidence and determination to leave with nothing less than a win. With my team by my side, there was nothing that we couldn’t accomplish and we proved it when we beat the Wolverines 36-6, securing out a spot in the Super Bowl and giving myself the added self-assurance that I needed to remind myself that I wasn’t as worthless as I’d originally thought.
Chapter Two
As I awoke the following morning, I was greeted with aches and pains from the game on the night prior, a regular occurrence but one well worth the trouble in my opinion. The pain from being hit and shoved, falling on the ground and having the air knocked out of me all made me remember that I’m alive and somewhat important. My team needed me and as long as I had them on my side I felt as if I could face anything that was thrown at me, which was another reason why I could never come forth about my truth. Something like a gay quarterback would surely ruin me and possibly the whole team and I couldn’t risk hurting the men I knew as my brothers. Keeping my secret was the utmost important factor in maintaining a functional life, so as long as I could continue the illusion of a hetero status, everything should remain in order.
I owned a beautiful home with a three car garage and four fucking bathrooms. Who needs four bathrooms? Apparently, I do and the fact that the master bath housed a bathtub with whirlpool jets and a bidet alongside the toilet was one of the selling factors for me. I had an unusual obsession with bathrooms and felt as if that was the one room of the home where I could be myself, often pampering myself with a long, hot bath infused with aromatherapy oils. There were times when random women would accompany me home and I’d treat them like princesses by drawing them a bubble bath then feed them chocolate covered strawberries. I love to be in the kitchen but don’t have anyone to prepare it for so when I felt a bit lonely, I would keep up appearances of being a single, debonair playboy. Most women weren’t looking for a sexual connection but rather a person that could see them for who they are and if anyone could be nice to a woman and not try to sleep with her, that was me. I’d wash her back and hair, rub her shoulders, massage her down with oils after her bath and never once allow sex to cross my mind. I’ll admit that I did occasionally allow myself the romantic indulgences of women but in my heart, I always yearned for the touch of a man. The main part of being gay is having sex with other men but that’s one milestone I’d yet to reach in my life. Fear of being found out always loomed in the forefront of my mind and I was terrified that my secret would be leaked in search of fifteen minutes of fame. The person that comes forward and outs me will definitely be remembered in the tabloids for quite a while and that’s just one more reason to keep my urges to myself.
Looking out the vast acreage that accompanied my home, I pressed my forehead against the large picture window that faced east and allowed my mind to wander far away from this place and the stresses that plagued me on a daily basis. Only in my head could I escape for a moment and truly be free but times like these were few and far between. As thoughts of training, the Super Bowl and impending pressure to once again be flawless ran through my mind, I sighed as I opened my eyes and went to the sofa so I could watch a bit of television before I worked up the desire to jog around my neighborhood. Even though I didn’t have practice this morning, I still had to make sure my body stayed in tip-top shape and a few miles around the side streets of the residential area was just what the doctor ordered.
Flipping through channels, I ran across a show that was aimed at homosexual males, flaunting young, athletic men with amazing smiles and corny dialogue. I would often imagine that one of them were smiling at me and let myself feel the flutter of attraction that I had for his hard body. My favorite character’s name was Eli and he covered the cowboy fantasy aspect of the show but soon I found that his accent was slightly inauthentic, so I preferred to watch with the volume down. It was just as satisfying even though I couldn’t hear a word that came out of his gorgeous mouth. Sighing as I turned off the TV and drowned in self-pity, I tossed the remote on the plush, leather sofa and headed to my room to put on some socks and sneakers
Running was a good way for me to clear my head and as the rhythmic tapping of my shoes against the pavement drummed out a steady pace, I felt my heart begin to pump harder as my breath began to quicken. I was determined to get a full body sweat this morning so I’d have to really push myself harder than a regular jog. My mind raced to keep up with the pounding of my feet and all I could see was my mother’s face when I would attempt to tell her that I’m gay and each scenario ends with her in tears. Trying to force her heartbroken face from my mind, I told myself that I could never cause her that kind of pain and it was better to just go for a run than deal with the bitter emotions that my mother would have to handle if I told her my truth.
“How could you do this to me? What will the pastor say? You’re going to hell!” All these things raced through my mind, knowing what dear Margaret would say before I’d even mentioned it. Once I told her, these phrases would be shouted at the top of her voice, mixed with tears and uncontrollable shaking, more than likely. Mother had always been quite dramatic and I could guarantee that she would deliver nothing less than a spectacular show. It was imperative that she not be disappointed in me nor that she ever find cause to be ashamed, for I was her firstborn and perfect son. My sister, Gracie, married shortly after high school and now had three children and a husband with a beer gut who would rather spend his free time drinking beer with his buddies than being a father to my nephews. The youngest of our little clan was my brother, Ben, and he’d been in and out of jail and rehab since he was a teenager so the fact that I was the only hope for my parents to be proud also weighed heavily on my conscience. There was no way on God’s green earth that I would ever inflict that kind of emotional trauma on my mother so I was extra careful to not even allow my glance to linger over men for any length of time when she was in my presence. Though I only saw my parents once or twice a month, I was in constant contact with my mother over the phone and never found the right time to even think about bringing up the topic of discussion. She’d ask if I was dating and I’d lie and say that I was seeing someone or had just broken up with a cheerleader but in all actuality, I hadn’t been in a relationship since high school when I was seeing Angela Cole and if not for her brother, Greg, I’d have never given her a second thought.
It was while spending time with Angela, who was not allowed to leave the house with me unless her brother tagged along, so she was the perfect girlfriend for me. Sex with her was never an option for me, for I preferred to spend our time checking out Greg’s wonderful smile and newly developed muscles. Observing and watching him as we would swim or hang out in the park is when I realized that the thoughts and hidden desires I harbored deep within were more than passing ideas but more of an abysmal need for male companionship. He graduated a year before we did and even though I didn’t want to really spend time with Angie without him, I remained her boyfriend until she cheated on me for not having sex with her. She had decided that she wanted to take our relationship to the next level but I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea and though it hurt my reputation as a stud, I found peace in the fact that I was viewed as a gentleman amongst my peers. Most would say that in itself was an indication of being gay, for most of the boys in my class seemed to be fueled by the scent of the adolescent female.
Chapter Three
Parties were just one of the small perks that came along with my lifestyle and even though I didn’t drink to excess, I was known to throw back a few when I wasn’t in training. Since the big game was less than a week away, I decided against putting anything into my body that wasn’t going to assist my performance. Being a well-oiled machine took a lot of diligence and if I started letting things slip it was only a matter of time before I woke up looking like my sister’s husband and that was something that I simply could not allow.
“Hey, Chad. Good game yesterday. You gonna be ready for next week?”
The man under the ten-gallon hat was one of the team’s sponsors, oil tycoon turned sporting goods store owner, Hank Hudson. He liked whiskey and women but there was nothing he loved more than money and judging by the shine I hated schmoozing at these functions and wished that I could disappear into the crowd then out the door.
“Oh, yes, sir. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” With my winning smile, I boasted about how I could taste the win on the tip of my tongue and as he slapped me on the shoulder, the portly man under the cowboy hat walked off laughing, raising his glass in the air as he said,
“I know where I’m putting my money next Sunday, that’s for sure.”
His eyes were a deep cerulean and I noticed from across the room the way he seemed to captivate those around him. I knew that I had to get close to him but I couldn’t risk anyone seeing my attraction, so I stood with my beer in my hand and continued to silently scope the room. The more I glanced in the direction of this intriguing stranger, the more I felt pulled toward him and my eyes couldn’t avoid him no matter how hard I tried. He was tall but not athletically built and his hair was dark with blond, highlighted tips. I watched as he made his way to the back of the room where sat a deejay booth and stepped up to the man currently spinning and the two exchanged positions and my crush took the oversized headphones and placed them on his head. He moved in beat with the music that blared through the speakers and the entire vibe of the party seemed to change with his arrival. People seemed to know who he was and glad to see him so when the crowd burst into applause, I clapped and welcomed him to the stage, so to speak.
“It’s great to be here with you tonight in honor of my boys! Drillers, you guys made me a lot of money on last night’s game and I appreciate that! Spinning the latest and greatest beats, I’m DJ Dominic and I’ll be with you till you can't stand anymore so let’s get this party started!” He was met with a roar of applause but I could do nothing but stare at him, wondering how someone so beautiful could be in the same room as myself and I took a moment to enjoy his features. Getting caught admiring him was the last thing I needed, so I nonchalantly turned as I sipped my beer and faced the bar, emptying the bottle before placing it onto the granite countertop. Nodding to the bartender that I would like another, I allowed my gaze to return to the handsome stranger across the room but dared not make a move on him. There were lines that couldn’t be crossed and flirting with the deejay hired for the team party was definitely something that shouldn’t be done.
“Here you go, man.” I turned back around to see that the college-aged bartender had sat another beer down for me and I nodded and thanked him as I picked it up and placed it to my lips. It was agony to be in a room full of seemingly available men and not be able to act upon my urges to try and find love. Love wasn’t necessarily what I needed in my life but I could do with a boyfriend who likes me a lot. I don’t need much but I was denying myself the very basic of human needs and that was companionship. Until I could come forward with the truth, I simply couldn’t allow reality to take control. Remaining in the darkness is how my desire lived and sang its heart song, wishing to be free to experience life as I’d only seen on television. Was it so wrong that I just wanted to be with someone that was not a female? Just because I wouldn’t be able to fertilize an egg with a male lover was no reason for me to have to go without a lover at all and I just wish my parents could see that I’m no different than anyone else.
Taking a cue from the “Keep it in the closet” playbook, I decided to sneak outside and disappear to my vehicle without being noticed. It was all fun and good but the reality that there was no chance I’d find a date or even someone with whom I wanted to have a meaningful conversation, it was best that I just leave. Sure, I could probably take one of these vapid bimbos home with me but I’ve had about as much female nudity as I can stand and I wasn’t in the mood to fend off feminine advances. The party had come to the point where everyone was slightly inebriated and I’d spent enough time to make my presence known. I’d hit a liquor store on my way home and grab a bottle before heading to my lonely, lavish domicile where I would take shots until I decided to go to sleep. It seemed like as good a plan as any, so as I pulled out of the driveway, I steered towards the closest establishment where I could purchase strong spirits and drown myself in a sea of pity and self-loathing. Sure, I could have waited on the cute deejay to finish his set and strike up some sort of conversation but I couldn’t risk anyone seeing the hidden desire in my eyes. There was no way that I’d be able to speak to him without blushing and showing every thought in my head right there on my face. I’d surely be discovered by the dreamy stare in my eyes, so the best course of action would be for me to just leave before doing something that I lived to regret.
There were times when I felt like saying screw everything and just go for what I want, telling myself that those who loved me would understand and only want me to be happy. I would imagine the world where I could find true love and be accepted by my family and peers so that we could live a normal life together with picnics and barbecues on Sunday with the folks but I knew that there was no alternate reality where my happiness came before the duty that I felt towards my parents.
The son of a poor farmer and daughter of a single mother seemed to dive into this world and make something of themselves and I’d be damned if I was the one who ruined their happiness. My parents had a grand vision for their lives and those of their family and since my brother and sister had already disappointed them enough. I couldn’t be the one to put the final nail in my mother’s coffin and bury her hope forever so instead, I live this life that they made for me, filled with sports, cars and women that I didn’t want.