Date: Sun, 20 Mar 2011 10:12:17 +1000 From: Matt Brown Subject: Thoroughly Modern Michael Disclaimers: If you are under 18 or the legal age within your country, stop reading this. The author does not own Thoroughly Modern Millie or Monty Python, both of which are owned by Universal Pictures. This work is fiction. Chapter 1: I?m Still Alive I closed the door behind the last of the movers, and flopped down onto my threadbare couch that had followed me faithfully throughout my dorm years. After years of living with roommates, it was a welcome change from clutter and ruckus. Then again, that?s what this move was all about?change. I?d jetted from one side of the country to the other in an effort to get free from the past and, hopefully, find a future for me, Michael Creed. Now that begs the question: what was so horrible about my past? Truthfully, it was pretty bourgeois; I had felt so emotionally stilted in my relationships to my family. Did my parents ever really know me, or I them? We played our roles, until I decided in college that I was coming out, roles be damned. While they remained placid on the surface, the cordial distance turned into a frosty one. Of course, they still supported me financially, as not to do so would cause even more disrepute. So I left once I graduated?left the city of my birth, my family and my so-called friends. Alright, back to my apartment?it?s a quiet, one room studio with an adjoining bathroom. I have very little in the way of furniture. My couch, desk and bed dominate the room. I am not the best of cooks, so I have invested in a microwave. A mini-fridge completes the kitchen area. Tomorrow, I must go out and buy a bookshelf. I have a decent collection, which was one of the few sources of pride for my parents. A small TV (so old that I always imagine a dial on it) sits on a tiny coffee table in front of the couch for my viewing leisure. I start my new job tomorrow, at the Crimson Permanent Assurance. After graduating with a BA in accounting, all the job offers except this one were back in my old city. Unsurprisingly, picking the Crimson Permanent Assurance was not a hard decision. Soon, per their motto, I?ll ?be sailing the accountancy.? As glorious as that sounds, I?m sure I?ll fit in. I?ve always been the quiet type?if I wore glasses that would complete the picture. I concede to vanity on this issue, though, and use contacts. Oh, is that what we?re on now? My appearance? Well, nothing too shocking I hope: 5?10, 150 lbs, brown hair, blue eyes (I use clear contacts) and slightly crooked nose (soccer). I wouldn?t throw me out of bed, so that?s good I suppose. When I was younger, I used to get teased for my gangly elbows and knees until I hit puberty. Other than that, I haven?t heard complaints. I began to feel hungry, not having braved the airline fare. I decided to venture out and explore the area, hopefully finding some food in the process. My studio is on the fourth floor, so I can already tell that I?ll be facing a daily dilemma: stairs or elevator? I chose the elevator, and emerged from my building into the brisk evening air, a welcome change from my stagnant apartment. The left looked more promising, with more flashy signs while the right seemed to be mainly office buildings. After wandering a few blocks down, I came across a small Indian restaurant. I went in, whereupon the hostess sniped on me immediately. ?Table for how many?? Accompanied by a hopeful glint in her eye. ?No, just one.? Me, in an unrepentant tone, followed by her long appraisal. She seemed somewhat mollified later when I pronounced tikka masala correctly while ordering, having eaten Indian frequently while in college. I?m sure that with repeated visits, she?ll warm up to me, as I do leave decent tips (had a short stint as a waiter). My hunger sated, I wandered back out and went right or left as whim dictated. Eventually, I came across a small bookstore and, of course, felt the urge to add to my collection. I entered and not seeing anyone, said loudly, ?Anyone here?? ?Yeah, hey listen?I?m closing in ten minutes, so make it snappy, huh?? This came from behind the counter, apparently where the owner was crouched doing god-knows-what. ?Well, if you could just direct me to where you have Anne McCaffrey?s novels, that?d be good, thanks.? I was a little annoyed by his tone and his hiding. ?Are you for real?? He punctuated this by rising up from behind the counter, one brow raised in disbelief. ?An adult male, reading her novels? Huh, you don?t look much like a geek.? A bit stung, I replied, ?I?m sure you have a lot of regulars with this kind of customer service.? Alright, in the interest of full disclosure?I could see why he?d have a lot of regulars, looking the way he did. Blonde with hazel eyes, he looked damn good. Also, I?ve always admired a man who can raise just one brow. Says something about his character, or so I?d like to believe. He raised his hands in apology, and said, ?Sorry, I just think out loud sometimes. Bad habit, I know. What I meant was that you look, uh...sorry, never mind. I have McCaffrey?s books over here, in the young adults section.? With that he moved around the counter and led me to an area closer to the back. I saw many that I already had, but I picked out one which I had never before noticed. I went back to the front to pay. ?Nice. I thought this was one of her better ones myself.? He scanned it through. ?Huh. Didn?t know someone like you would be reading McCaffrey as well. Imagine that.? I wasn?t feeling very generous at the moment. ?Aw, come on, you won?t be teasing me about that every time you come here, will you? Listen, let?s start over, proper introduction and all. I?m Matthew Hemingway, no relation to Ernest. I was born and raised here, and I love this bookstore like no other. Now, your turn.? He could be charming when he wanted to be, and I?m only human. I gave him a brief background, and hoped he wouldn?t ask questions. He did welcome me as a new resident, and said that he hoped I?d be back. I almost said yes on the spot in response to his puppy-dog face, but I am made of stronger stuff. I left and returned to my apartment, again settling onto my couch. I opened my new book, and began to read. Each time that I stopped for a break, thoughts of Matthew would return to the fore. I began to feel peeved?after all, he didn?t give off any signs of being gay, although my gaydar was pretty well-established as defunct. Even if he was gay, what were the odds that someone like him was single? One thing that I?ve been good at throughout my life is keeping my expectations realistic. However, when it came to Matthew, I was finding it hard to quash my hopes. I put the book away and decided to call it a night, having an important day ahead of me. Another thing I?m good at is falling asleep quickly. Luckily, I had no trouble and entered blessed nothingness in a matter of minutes, new bed notwithstanding.