Marcus Shepard

I don't wanna be the bad guy,
I don't wanna do your sleepwalk dance anymore.
I just wanna feel some sunshine.
I just wanna find some place to be alone...

Everclear, Santa Monica

This story is about a relationship between a man of about 27 years, and a boy of 13. If this does not meet with your approval, go to your browsers address line and delete all the words you don't agree with, starting with the name of the story, and working your way back. At this point, no one in the story is getting any, that may or may not come later... If you are only trying to get your rocks off, you might want to go somewhere else. As always, this never happened, I was never here, and you didn't see a thing...

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Part 3

The next evening Tiffany answered her phone to hear an excited and equally loud Simon. "Tiffany! Tiffany! Tiffany!" She moved the phone about half a foot form her ear. "Guess what!!!"

"Simon, calm down! What is it?" Tiffany asked with a laugh over the boy's enthusiasm. She didn't move the phone closer.

"He talked to me Tiffany! He talked to me! He really does like me! I'm so happy Tiffany! He even wants to get together with me on Saturday! You were right Tiffany; there is always hope..."

Saturday morning dawned cold and wet, with no chance of sun. Starting at 6:30 am, the rain fell in a steady downpour. Marc, fearing that Joey would have to walk in this to make their date at nine, wrote Joey at seven, offering to reschedule or pick him up. He then went around getting ready and checking his e-mail every few minutes.

The boy walked though the pouring rain looking for the place he was to meet Marc. Up ahead he saw a sign for Tiffany's, and the song Marc had sent him flashed through his head. Marc had not said the name of the place, only the address. The boy knew by checking the number that this was most defiantly the place. The blinds where down, and the open sign was not illuminated. When he read the note on the door he felt his heart sink.

Dear Valued Customer

Due to an unforeseen emergency, Tiffany's well not be opening until noon today.

I apologies for any inconvenience this may cause you.

Thank you for your patronage and patience.


The boy banged his head against the door and started to cry. First an hour and forty-five minutes walking in the rain and now this. He was tired, he was cold, he was soaked through, and it didn't even look like he would get breakfast for it.

Hearing the sound at the door, Tiffany went to answer it, thinking it might be Joey. Before her was the most pathetic sight possible. A small, shaking boy, drenched from the rain, and wearing the most miserable _expression possible.

"Simon Joseph Christianson what on earth are you doing..." She cut off suddenly staring, her eyes growing wider. Softly she said "Simon Joseph... Joseph... Joey... dear goddess, Joey!" She gasped; things suddenly falling into place in her mind. The tarot lays, Simon's depression over being rejected by someone older, the call Tuesday about being invited out on Saturday. She cursed herself for a fool. All the coincidences shrugged off, the details missed because she was so focused on each individual. It all made sense now. The universe had balanced. Simon was Joey. She was going to have to slap Marc upside the head again.

But first, she had a drowned rat to deal with. She took Simon through the restaurant, to the adjoining apartment and had him strip in the bathroom and take a warm shower, while she put his clothes in the wash, as they had been splashed with mud. She then started rummaging through her clothes, looking for something Simon could wear. All she found was a long black T shirt she got at a U2 concert. She handed it through the door to Simon saying "Sorry kid, it's the only thing I got that won't fall off of you."

When he was done Simon came out, his long red hair neatly brushed making and interesting contrast with the black shirt. He cocked his head and said "U2, who's that?"

Tiffany stuck her tongue out at him, and put on "U2 The Best of 1980-1990" album, adjusting the speakers so it played throughout the apartment and restaurant.

"My, what strange music you listen to," Simon said in a bemused manner.

"Oh shut up. You know you like it"

"Madam you have no evidence of that what so ever." Simon rebottled imperiously.

"Oh yeah? Then why were you singing along to it in my car on Monday?"

Simon closed his eyes and started singing along to the music. "With or without you, with or without you, I can't live, with or without you.."

He opened his eyes as though nothing had happened and said, "I really have no idea what you are talking about. Perhaps you have me confused with somebody else."

"Of course, you must me Joey, not Simon."

The boy looked down and started picking at the shirt, which hung down to his knees. "About that... I sort of meant to tell you..."

"Like you sort of meant to tell Marc how old you are?"

"I thought you would be mad at me and tell my parents if I told you I was interested in an adult, and had gone to go meet him."

"I'm not mad at you Simon, though I am rather bemused as to why you were online masquerading as an adult. Even more so, why you were trying to pick up a man."

"It wasn't like that..."

"Simon, I know how you met Marc. He had an ad posted on a gay singles site. You wrote in response to it. My questions still stands Simon; why?"

"I was just curious. I knew I was gay, but all the guys my age are pricks, caught up in trying to be all macho and what not. I'm not interested in that. One day I was just bumming around online and I found the site. I was just skimming over the ads when I saw his... Most of them were crude "fuck buddy needed" bull shit, but his was different. His entire add never even mentioned sex. I just... I had to talk to him. I never thought anything would come of it, but I wrote him, and he wrote me back, and we just kept on writing. At first, I didn't think it was serious, but then I started too really like him. Before long I couldn't wait to check my e-mail. I wanted to tell him how old I was, to tell him I was just a kid, but I didn't know how. When he asked me if I wanted to meet him, I tried telling him; I had it typed out and everything. But I got scared and deleted it instead of sending it. I just said that I didn't think he would like me if he met me. He said that he found that hard to believe; that he didn't care what it was, if I was fat, or ugly, or anything. So I agreed... and he left me there... guess he was wrong."

"First off Simon, you're not `just a kid'. You are a very talented and intelligent and king person, who is much more mature then his 13 years, or even some people in their fifties. Second, Marc was right; he couldn't think of anything that would make him not like you. He never even conceived of you being a minor, and when he found out, it sort of out cloaked his processor. And you know what else? He wasn't wrong; if he didn't like you, would we be here talking about it?"

"I guess not... So how do you know Marc?"

"Love, I've known Marc longer then I've known you."

"Seeing as how you were in the delivery room when I was born, that's saying something."

"I'll never forget the first time I drove. Women in labor screaming at me that I was going to kill us, and if I didn't she'd kill me when we to there. I guess the cops agree `cause I had no less ten three of them on me by the time we got to the hospital. Fortunately I was able to find the break and your mom was enough of a distraction to keep them from arresting me for reckless endangerment..." She laughed. "Anyway, at that point Marc and I had been dating for two months, and known each other for a good five years."

"What?!? B... but I thought..."

"Thought what? That he was gay, or that I was a dyke?"

"Yes! Will, not the dyke part... Are you?"

"Yes and no... I'm bi. But for all I'm getting any, I might as well be asexual. And yes, Marc is gay. That's actually why we dated. His parents are a bit homophobic. Ok, that's an understatement, their a lot homophobic. I don't like them..." She said with an _expression akin to that of someone tasting something exceptionally distasteful. "Any way, Marc asked me out so his parents would lay off him about getting a girl. I was sick of all the pricks on campus trying to get up my dress, so I went along with it. We dated for about two years. When we were 16, he decided to come out. So one nigh we got home form the movies, and confronted his parents. About the point he said the word gay, the preverbal shit hit the fan.

"Long story short, his dad went ballistic and tried to beat the shit out of us; he failed. I on the other had did not. The law suit was dropped because I had been `defending' myself when I shattered three bones in his arm... leg too for that matter. Did I mention I really don't like his parents? Marc moved in with me Mum and I. You actually met him a few times when you came over. You where like three then, and called him Mar."

"Really? Wow that's kind of freaky..."

"Speaking of freaks, where's your date?" Just then the phone rang, so Tiffany whet over to answer it. "Tiffany's, Tiffany speaking. How can I help you?"

"Tiffany where have you been? I tried calling at nine, and when you didn't answer I came over to see if Joey made it. I was pounding on your door for fifteen minutes and you didn't answer."

"Sorry, I'm back in the apartment dealing with a drowned rat."

"Drowned rat?"

"Yeah, with long red hair. Anyway where are you now?"

"Over at Celestial Ponderings."

"Well get back over here and I'll let you in."

"I'm on my way." Click

"Marc's on his way; let's head back over to the restaurant."

Simon gulped and paused hesitantly. "Too late to back out?"

"Too late to back out now kid. I know were you live." She grabbed his arm and started dragging him to the front. "Come on. Don't worry, you look great."

"Thought you said I was a drowned rat." He said sulkily.

"Yes, yes, but a very handsome drowned rat."

She got him into the restaurant, and had him sit at one of the tables. As soon as he was situated there was a knock at the door. He started to get up, but an `evil glare of death' from Tiffany made him sit back down. Tiffany let Marc in and had him sit across form `Joey' while she got them something warm to drank.

They sat across form one another, nether sure what to say. Tiffany came back with tea for Marc, and hot chocolate for Simon. Seeing that both were silent she decided to try and get the ball rolling. "Marc, I would like to introduce you to Simon, my cousin. Simon, I would like to introduce you to my friend Marc. Now that the introductions are out of the way, I'm sure you two have lots to say. Ill go make breakfast." With that, she left them alone.

Can you imagine the scene? A boy, a man, sitting across from one another. The man in slacks and a button down shirt. The boy in nothing but an oversized T shirt. The man sips his tea. The boy wraps his hands around his cup of hot chocolate. One coughs, the other shifts in their seat. Sitting there, watching each other watch each other. Both with so much to say. Neither sure what to say.

Finally Marc worked up the courage to start. "So... um... Joey, err Simon um..." he stuttered. "I guess you got here ok. Have any trouble with the rain?"

"Yeah. It's kind of a long walk to here, and I was soaked by the time I got here. Tiffany had me shower and game me this to wear. My clothes are in the wash..."

"Oh Joey, Simon... I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean for you to have trouble. I wrote you this morning when I saw how bad it was out there offering to re-schedule, or pick you up or something..." Marc said apologetically.

"I didn't have time to check my e-mail this morning. I had to leave at 7."

"You had to walk for two hours to get here? Why didn't you let me know it was so far from you' we could have worked something out."

"I didn't want you to get mad and cancel." Simon said timidly.

"I'm really sorry Simon. I guess I did come across as a real hot head last time. I was just... well you caught me a bit off guard." He laughed weakly. "Joey, I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry I left you there. I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance to explain. I'm sorry I didn't write you back for so long. Joey, I'm sorry..." Tears started to stream down his cheeks and he started chocking up. He got on his knees before Simon. "I'm sorry for everything I've done to you, for everything I've put you through. I've been thinking and I want to try this." He took Simon's hand into his own. "I want to try us. I love you Joey... Simon. I have since you first wrote me seven months ago. Tiffany made me see that it's not your body or age that matters. I didn't have that when I first loved you. It's who you are inside. I know I've made a terrible blunder of things. I want to make it right with you. Will you give me a chance?"

"I came here today Marc, didn't I? I know I lied to you, and what you got when we met isn't at all what you were expecting. When I first wrote to you, I knew that if I told you I was a 13 year old, you would ether ignore me, or not take me seriously. No one ever takes kids seriously. I didn't think anything would come of it. I just thought we would write for a little bit, and that would be the end of it. But we kept on writing. Oh God! Marc, I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid to. The night you first asked to meet me, I almost did. I should have. As for me giving you a chance, I think it's you giving me a chance. Thank you."

Marc lifted Simon's hands to his lips and kissed them gently. He then drew the boy into his arms, and for the first time they embraced. They broke apart and resumed their seats.

Tiffany took this moment to bring out their food. Waffles, eggs and bacon, and country fried potatoes. She placed tea before Simon, and hot chocolate before Marc. Then she went back to the kitchen. They looked down at their drinks, then at each other. Glancing around to make sure that Tiffany was gone they covertly switched drinks.

Simon whispered "Some restaurant, she didn't even ask us what we wanted."

"I know. I've been eating here for three years, and not once has she taken my order."

Just then the volume increased on the music, forcing them to listen. They smiled at each other.

You say you want Diamonds on a ring of gold
You say you want Your story to remain untold

But all the promises we make From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you.

You say you'll give me
A highway with no one on it Treasure just to look upon it
All the riches in the night

You say you'll give me
Eyes in a moon of blindness A river in a time of dryness
A harbor in the tempest But all the promises we make
>From the cradle to the grave When all I want is you

You say you want Your love to work out right
To last with me through the night You say you want
Diamonds on a ring of gold Your story to remain untold
Your love not to grow cold

All the promises we break From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you

You...all I want is... You...all I want is...
You...all I want is... You...

Questions, comments concerns... E-mail to I will try to respond in a timely manner. Let me know what you think of it; I like mail... To everyone that has been following this story, sorry it took me so long to get this part posted. I will try to get the next part completed shortly. The impossible I do right away miracles take a little longer.