Rejection

   Jean grabbed her purse and the bag where she kept her laptop. She walked very fast but tried not to look angry, disappointed or anything else. She just wanted to leave that place as fast as she could. It was very uncomfortable to stay there after she had been so insulted. As she arrived to the elevator, the door closed as someone was going down just before her. She whispered a course word, frustrated that she had to wait like an idiot in order to leave a please she definitely didn’t wanted to stay in or return ever again. She felt too humiliated.

 Out of nowhere, one of the guys that had been there during her interview walked up to her. He told her that they had been looking for her. A tiny shimmer of light appeared in her heart only to be crushed moments later when she realized the man had come to find her because she had left her pen in the table. What was even more annoying, was that he started talking about the results of the interview and telling her, once again, about all the flaws she had as a writer and so on. She wanted the Earth to swallow her, as his voice was very loud and everyone around seemed to be listening.

 She had to close her eyes and just try to relax by breathing slowly, feeling the air through her body. Ignoring the man was not easy but she could at least think of something else as he talked and talked and talked. The lady that managed the reception on that floor looked at them with surprise and obvious disgust. When Jean opened her eyes, the lady looked at her straight in the eye and shook her head, then looking at the guy. Jean only smiled, thankful that at least one person realized in what an uncomfortable situation she was.

 Finally, the elevator opened up and she stepped in without even acknowledging the man. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to follow her into the elevator but fortunately he didn’t. He was even able to say anything else to Jean as she pressed hard the button that made the elevator close faster. She then pressed the number for the ground floor and started breathing normally again. She felt seriously awful and couldn’t believe she had to go home now in a bus that would take at least forty-five minutes. She didn’t felt good at all.

 Luckily, the bus didn’t take long to pass and she was able to find a free seat next to the window. She really wasn’t feeling ok and even though she was going to fall asleep, her brain wouldn’t let her. Not only because it may not be the best idea to fall asleep on a bus, but also because she had their words in her head. She could hear them once and again, trashing every single part of the work that she had done for them. Saying that they destroyed her isn’t enough to describe what went on in that conference room. A few tears rolled down her face.

 She had to clean herself with her hand because she had no tissues or anything like that. But it was clear to her that she had no intention to be the crazy woman in the bus that cries “for no reason”. So she tried to clean her tears off and attempted to think about something else. For example, the fact that she had left her family cat by herself. It wasn’t something that she did for the first time but it was something to think about. The cat was obviously ok but she had to create a problem in her mind in order to be able to resist the urge to cry.

 The bus took less time to her stop than it usually did. She hadn’t realized but she had left that office so early that there wasn’t even the normal traffic jam of peak time out in the streets. When she came down of the bus, she checked she had everything with her, including the pen she had forgotten in her pocket. Walking home took only five minutes. Her house had a cute garden that was brimming with light and color as she entered. It was as if nature was trying to cheer her up.

 And it did make her smile at least. When she entered the house, she called for her parents. Fortunately, no one answered back. They were normally there but she didn’t care where and why they had left, she only wanted to go to her run and be able to fall asleep and nap for while, all afternoon was possible. She dropped her purse and laptop bag on the ground and took off her shoes before lying down in bed. She faced upwards, towards the ceiling and, again, she could her all the criticism and the things all those men had said.

 She began to cry again but, this time, Jean didn’t clean her face or attempted to appear tougher than she looked. She didn’t need to do that, as that was her bedroom, her place in the world. There, she could do whatever she wanted and in that moment she wanted feel miserable for her. The words those men had said had been like daggers and they had stabbed her with them once and again and again. It was almost as if they had enjoyed themselves by doing so. To her, it was a very sick thing to do but she only reflected on that many days later.

 It had been really unnecessary to tell her all those things. They didn’t have to sink every single fiber of her soul by saying a lot of things that, even if part of the truth, weren’t as important in real life as they might have portrayed them. They essentially told her she had no idea how to write, that she couldn’t put three words together and that she made no sense whatsoever in what she had written for them. It was an essay about internal practices in very big companies.

 Jean had no idea of that. She had not been to business school or anything like it. She was just a normal girl trying to make her way into the world. She had thought that her English level was good enough for them but apparently it wasn’t. And of course it wasn’t because they had told her that she didn’t need to correct her essay for them and she didn’t. They lied to her because she would always do corrections but they had assured her they weren’t necessary. Besides, she had no idea of any business practices. She had a degree in creative writing, for God’s sakes!

 They had also told her that her way of portraying the business world was not very professional. And when she attempted to explain that she had no experience in the actual business world, as she had told the woman she had applied for the job too, they wouldn’t let her speak. They would only raise her voice and just keep talking. The guy that gave back her pen had been particularly nasty when saying that she shouldn’t have told them that she was actually good in English. At that moment she felt so enraged, she stood up and decided to leave.

After all, three men in one small conference room were attacking her. And it was all because of one miserable test they had set up in order to chose the perfect person for the freelance job they were looking for. They weren’t even going to take her into the company; they only wanted to see if she was available to do some texts for them once in a while. And, later that week, Jean realized the pay for one piece of writing was extremely mediocre compared to what people with no big company attached to them could pay her.

 It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t hired her but the fact that they had been deceitful in a way and that they had been so rude in explaining to her why she hadn’t been selected. After all, it made no sense that they had invited her to their offices only to insult her. It would have been better to receive an email with two phrases: one thanking her for applying and the other rejecting her application. It would be more direct and less surrounded with bullshit. She realized those guys only wanted to feel superior somehow and they had found their guinea pig in her.

 Jean fell asleep as she was thinking all of this. She woke up to the voice of her mom telling her it was dinnertime. When her parents asked how it had all went down, she told her everything that had happened and that she was planning to move along. It was hard for her to be her age, living with her parents and she did wanted to earn some money for herself but she wasn’t going to stop looking for a perfect fit to her talents. That company wasn’t the only one in the world and she was certain that, sooner or later, someone would be interested in what she could do.

Simmer

   Just the sight of the stretch marks in his arms, close to his armpits, was enough to make him swim abruptly and very fast, further into the ocean. He could see the people and the beach getting away, he couldn’t feel the bottom anymore and, when he stopped, he noticed he had passed the border marked by the buoys. He swam towards one of them and rested there for a while. He was very agitated because of the effort, his chest going up and down. It seemed he was having problem breathing. Shortly after, a lifeguard boat appeared and offered him help. But he was able to say that he didn’t want any and then swam towards the beach.

 It took him a little more time getting there, making a few stops along the way. The salty water of the ocean mixed with the salty water from his tears, but no one knew that or noticed that in the beach. No one really had seen him going that far, everyone was minding their own business, not caring if a guy just swam like a mad man. When he got to the beach, he stood on the edge for a while, cleaning his face and letting the water drip from his body. Then he walked up to one of the showers by the walkway and showered thoroughly there, he had sand all over the place. When he finished he walked up to the parking lot and changed by his car. No one was there to watch.

 After that, he drove home and there he ate one of those salads, the kind you buy in the supermarket and are already done for you. He was hungrier than a salad but he didn’t want to go out again and eat something else. He instinctively gazed at his arm but he had a shirt on now and didn’t bother to yank up the sleeve or anything. He just finished his salad and then sat in front of the TV and put some silly documentary about aliens. They were always on, always with some crazy theory. They were the best shows for him to sleep to because he didn’t really care what they were all about. He only knew he was really tired.

 When he woke up, the room was in darkness. He looked at his watch and just sat down, covered his face and then stood up. It was time to go to the gym. Once he got there, he realized he was too tired. He tried several machines in a very short time but he just couldn’t do much on any of them. He didn’t know if he was tired from his earlier workout or if he was just not in the mood to do any exercise. Even though he clearly wanted to leave, he made himself stay at least an hour. He didn’t wanted to waste time, even if he preferred to be home reading or watching TV or doing whatever else felt more attractive than being in a gym, not being able to do much. Again, in that place no one really looked at him and he luckily wore a sleeve shirt too. Somehow he had never been a sleeveless shirt type of guy. He just wasn’t many things…

 When he finally came out of the gym, he intended to go and eat another salad in his home but he chose, instead, to go and walk around for a while. He was very close to home but he didn’t wanted to go there just yet. He wanted to think for a while or maybe not think at all. He just wanted to keep moving because when he stayed still he began torturing himself and he didn’t wanted that at all. He walked looking at the people going up and down the street, some were alone and others were in couples or even in groups. Some seemed happy and others not so much. Some were in a hurry and others just sat in the benches and just were there, not doing much more than looking at the cars and at the people, like him.

 He stopped to check out many store windows, some of them selling toys, others videogames or home appliances or even art. The street on which the gym was located, the same that passed near his house, was very commercial and active. And as the night progressed, more and more people popped all over the place, entering bar and restaurants, greeting people with hugs or only a cold handshake. It was Saturday night after all and everyone was out and about, no one wanted to be alone at home and he was certainly one of those. Normally he wouldn’t really care but this time was different. He felt he needed to stay outside for the remainder of the night because if he went back home he would do the same thing he did every time his thoughts cornered him.

  People never really watched, never really cared. They always excused themselves on a false sense of modesty or on a fake respect that no one ever asked of anyone. When he exercised in the gym the first few months he had a trainer. She was very strong and beautiful. He knew she saw the marks on his forearms, on his forehead. They were difficult not to look at if one really thought about it but she never mentioned anything and they saw each other everyday for at least three months. How could she not say anything? Did she really not mind or was she appealing to that false sense of respect that no one ever asked for? It’s not that he wanted to be asked but at the same time he did, he needed to be recognized.

 But no one had ever asked, no one had ever been interested. Besides he was very good at curing himself, he knew how to do it in order for anyone to miss the obvious marks. But nevertheless, they were obvious and anyone could have seen the problems, what was bubbling below his surface, that emotionless face and the stretch marked arms and the tired body. Everyone knew but no one cared. He was aware with that everywhere he went, even in that street, walking among people that seemed to be having an ice time with each other, that looked like they couldn’t care less about what happened beyond that place.

 He stopped at a small park and realized he had passed his home several blocks ago. He turned around but as he did, a voluptuous figure appeared in front of him. He didn’t really want to have that interaction, not then. It is common that the only people that see those in the shadows are people in the shadows themselves and these people really were. The police, the city officials and the neighbors all knew about it but no one really did anything to prevent it. Prostitutes had taken over and had taken the park as their place to work and get work. The lamps were not as bright as they could have been and some places were just very dark at night. Not only prostitutes hid in the shadows and he knew that well.

 Before she could offer him anything, he told her he wasn’t interested. She walked closer, in order to get in his way. She was very tall and had very strong legs and a wide chest and back. But she had the most luxurious head of hair he had ever seen on a prostitute. He repeated himself, told her he wasn’t interested. She then explained what she could do for him, what she liked to do and what he might like to do. She got neared but he took a step back. She smiled and he didn’t and she put a hand on his shoulder. It was a heavy hand and he felt as if he had sunken a couple of centimeters because of that hand. She assured they would have the best time ever and that she wouldn’t charge him too much. But the think her arm, pulled her hand off him and told her he wasn’t interested.

 This time he walked away and heard the prostitute insulting him and saying a bunch of derogatory terms, one after the other. She was like a machine of insults and, it had to be said, she was very creative about it. He tried not to hear any more that meant that he had a small penis and just walked home as fast as he could. It was late and the weather outside got very cold without him noticing. When he got home he took off his gym clothes and put on a pajama. Again, he turned on the TV and tried to watch some documentary about sharks, then a movie about some teenagers lost in an island and finally some cartoons. But the thought was already there and he couldn’t get the image out of his head. He had to do it, he had no option.

 Hours later, he was in his bed, head on the pillow looking up but with his eyes wide open. He was shaking and his arms were slightly opened, as if he was playing to be an angel of sorts in his own bed. But it wasn’t an angel one would have thought of when looking at the large blood stains in the blankets. They were rapidly expanding, forming the wings of the possible angel. But no real angel could have been found there. He closed his eyes to sleep and, this time, he cried again. He understood this was the day in which it finally got to him, in which he lost his grip on everything. He was finally lost and there was no one that could save him. Then again, there was no one at all.

First time

It was bound to be difficult, David wasn't expecting anything different. Gero had told him everything would go perfectly but he personally didn't felt so.

The week prior to the Christmas dinner, David had gone almost crazy trying to buy presents for every single person that was going to be at the dinner: at least two aunts, an uncle, one grandmother, one grandfather, six cousins or so, Gero's parents and his brother and sister. And the dog and the cat...

It was pure luck or maybe a stupid move that he called Gero to ask what her mother would like better, if an apron or a baking set. His husband stopped him short and told him to wait for him at a restaurant in the mall. He met him there and tried to calm him down but exactly the opposite happened.

David crumbled, crying in silence, saying he felt Gero's family would hate him. Gero told him that was not going to be the case because he happened to be an endearing guy and any person would love to meet him and chat with him,

The man answered he felt guilty for making Gero live so far from his home and for never before having meeting them. And the worst, he thought, was the fact they still had no idea they were married.

Gero answered, calmly, that they did not lived far because of any of them but because of their jobs. Besides, he said, he would go insane if he lives too close from all his relatives. He reminded David they had never met his parents because they had always had a tough time thinking of him as their gay son and that was the same reason he had chosen not to tell anyone but their best friends.

David calmed down slowly and then, he decided he was too hungry to be sad which made Gero very happy. If there was something he loved was sharing a meal with the person he loved and that was exactly what they did.

The days passed faster than expected. David had managed to stay busy, visiting friends of Gero and visiting all the places his husband had loved when he was younger: the park where he had his first kiss, the school he hated so much, the ice cream parlor he and his friends were go to dish about guys. It was like entering Gero's thoughts and that was nice, as he had decided to share his life with him. It meant the relationship was stronger than ever.

They day came and they drove early to be the first ones there. Gero had decided he only wanted his "nuclear" family to meet David first, so the shock or weirdness would be less accentuated for all involved.

Indeed, only Gero's sister had arrived to their parents house before them. For David, it was a relief to see her there. She knew everything and she was very supportive and enthusiastic. Her and her husband had given them some money as a wedding present.

Then, it came time to meet the mother and father. No other situation is more surreal or strange, and all the Christmas ornaments around the house made it even more strange.  The greeting was quite simple: David smiled and the parents did small bows and fake smiles. It was obvious they weren't thrilled about this meeting. David looked at Gero and he was smiling too, but he appeared to be honest about it.

After that dreadful scene, everything was a little bit easier as many things had to be done in order to get the dinner ready. Gero's mother had decided to make fish for dinner so Gero decided to help her with that and David was assigned to do the salad, which was dreadful for him. What if he put in something they didn't like?

But that was not possible as his mother-in-law put every vegetable that needed to be in the salad in front of him. As she did that, she only spoke to herself, reminding to get fish in the oven for the right time and things as such.

When he finished the salad, the woman thanked David with another fake smile and asked him to fill the coolers with the beers they had on the garage. Apparently, there was a small picnic cooler everywhere in the house. Gero wanted to help but David stopped him short and told him, without saying a word, to leave him do this on his own.

He went out to the garage and saw they had a lot of beer cases. "They must love their beer", he thought. Each case was really heavy but he decided to lift it to carry it inside. But he dropped it when a loud honk scared him. As he saw all the spilled beer on the floor, the garage door opened: it was a van filled with people.

As people passed by him, he cleaned the beer of the floor with a mop he found behind the beer boxes. Not one of them said "Hi" but he knew every single one had looked at him, in different ways: with pity, with disgust, with resentment and even with a smile on their faces.

All aunts and uncles and cousins were in there and they settled in the living room with Gero's father, watching TV. They were watching some repetition of an old football game from Europe or so he thought it was. David had no idea about sports.

And as the hours passed, he entered with several boxes of beers and filled the damned coolers. And people that hadn't even acknowledged his presence would ask him for a bottle, even after seeing him putting them in a cooler. He felt like a glorified waiter.

When he finally finished, dinner was ready. They all sat down at the table, which had small names written on papers, placed on each plate. As people sat down, he realized his seat was not adjacent to Gero's seat which was just next to his mother. David decided not to say a word and breath deeply. The night was not going to go on forever.

So he sat between two of Gero's youngest cousins and served himself some of the salad he had made. But when he started chewing the first bite, he noticed something he hadn't put in there. So he grabbed a napkin and put on all the food there, all chewed up. And everyone, now, was looking at him. For a moment, he couldn't speak. He looked at David who had also noticed the attention his husband had attracted.

 - I'm... I'm allergic.

And then David saw his people and realized what happened.

 - Mom, David can't eat peanuts. I thought you hated them, too.

And the mom said she had read they were good for blood pressure and that she had no idea of knowing David was allergic to them. She apologized, but it looked as she was saying it to her glass of wine and not to David.

The dinner went on. They served the fish, which David hated but ate as much as he could, and the a surprise dessert made by one of the girls there, that wanted to be a chef. Her concoction was awful but no one said a word. They all ate at least a bite of it, saying they were too full to keep going.

Midnight was less than hour away when they stood up from the people and gathered on the living room, some chatting, others watching yet another game.

David tried to talk to Gero but that was impossible. His mother was always there, talking and talking and he didn't wanted her to have a reason to kick him out or something. Anyway, there was no need.

Gero's uncle asked for a beer and one of the kids told him there weren't any left in the cooler. The looked in another one and the same thing happened. Then the guy, visibly drunk already, said something everyone heard loud and clear.

 - That faggot doesn't even know how to fill a cooler. And he's allergic to peanuts. What a pussy.

David felt the world crumble around him. Now he was sick, really sick. The stupid lights all over and Santa Claus images and reindeers. All of it made him feel sick to his stomach. He couldn't move though, he was stuck there, in his chair at the dining table, still trying to eat the awful dessert the stupid kid had thought was a dessert.

Then something else, equally awful happened. Gero's dad answered:

 - Leave it alone. Here.

And he gave his brother a beer. "IT. Leave IT alone". It all happened in seconds but it had been enough. David had never been the kind of person to shut his mouth and stay down as he was being insulted. Love wasn't enough to ignore that.

So he stood up and practically ran towards the coat closet. He grabbed his and looked at his husband's stupid family and said:

 - I might be a fucking faggot but I'm not as full of shit as you people are. Merry Christmas.

And he went out the door, the cold night. In the distance he could hear other gatherings and parties but they made him even angrier. He arrived at the car but realized it was Gero that had the keys. He got his wallet out and saw he had some money.

 - Taxi it is. - he said to himself.

He started walking again but then someone's arm stopped him. It was Gero.

 - I don't want to do this now. I want to go to the hotel, have a decent meal and sleep.
 - I'm...
 - I don't care. Just let me go. Stay here and we'll talk tomorrow.

David released himself from Gero's arm and resumed his walking. Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a bus stop waiting for a taxi to pass by but no one drove by. Everyone was with family, obviously.

He knew he had been right all along but even so, he felt bad for leaving and hating Gero's family. He did hate them but he loved him so much. And now, all that had happened.

Then another honk scared him. But this time it wasn't a van full of annoying kids. It was his husband. He lowered the window and said:

 - I'm looking to get lucky tonight. You look hot. Wanna ride?

David burst in laughter and so did Gero. They looked at each other and smiled, with pure love. So the guy on the bus stop stood up and entered the car. After all, it was their first Christmas together as a married couple.