Date: Mon, 23 Jul 2001 23:48:13 EDT From: VitaminRforFun@aol.com Subject: COMMENCEMENT - Introduction Hey guys...this is really my first try at writing one of these things. Not sure how the sex is going to be, but hopefully the characters will be interesting to read about. Most of this is made up... like the people and places are fictional, and any similarities are really just a coincidence. Well, some of the people and events I guess are loosely based on things I've seen or done. It might get kind of confusing, but the story starts in the future, goes to the recent past. Then to the slightly less recent past, hopefully up to today. But we'll see how much of a commitment this will get from me. COMMENCEMENT - Introduction "It is truly an honor to be speaking to you, the class of 2020, on this most special of occasions. Believe it or not, I once sat where you sit. That day twenty years ago I arrived at this commencement ceremony with a bit of fear and nervousness in my heart, that manifested itself in a form of nausea, punctuated with a bitter taste in the back of my throat. Looking back on it now, I have a feeling that the nausea and bitter taste I felt came from a few too many shots, which led me to making a bit of a mess in the upstairs bathroom of the Beta house. "In graduating this afternoon you become part of the distinguished alumni of Biltmore College. This class, in particular, has distinguished itself in the classroom, on the stage, and in athletic pursuits..." "Steve, you need to get up." "What? What time is it?" "9:45, you need to be in Anderson at 10:00 to lineup." "Fuck, aight. My parents here?" "Naw man, they called and said they'd meet you after the ceremony. Now dude, get the fuck up." "Eric Michael Carney, cum laude, departmental distinction in political science and French. Steven Jackson Carter, summa cum laude, James Wharton Biltmore Scholar, and departmental distinction in history..." I heard my name being called as I walked up the steps to cross the platform and receive my diploma. Some of my classmates who'd gone before me had cheered after receiving their diplomas, or took part in some other crazy sort of antic. Me, I just concentrated on not tripping over my gown. I didn't hear my brothers cheering from somewhere in the crowd. I didn't hear the guys on the basketball team, or any of my other friends. I stared blankly at Chancellor Grey as he handed me my diploma, and hoped that I wouldn't trip. As I did so, this ensuing feeling of nausea swept over my body, and I had to use all my power not to throw up all over the place. Graduating college, what a novel concept. The week of constant drinking leading up to graduation was supposed to be my great sendoff. It was filled with days of drinking that started around 4 PM, and ended at 5 or 6 AM. Days that also included a lot of weed, some whipits, and a lot of Ritalin for its more amusement oriented use, some E, vicadin...you know, anything fun that we could get our hands on. The music varied depending on who felt like playing DJ, but generally the mix tended not to stray too far from rap and techno, with some Dave thrown in there if we felt like being chill for a while. Regardless of the music or the drugs or the friends of the house who stopped by to party on that night, I tried to take it all in. I didn't want to forget anything. I looked around with the sole purpose of remembering what I saw. I touched things to remember their feel. It was a very surreal time for me. Four years of friendships and shear bliss was coming to an end, and I didn't want to forget a thing. College was a chapter in my life I didn't want to close, I wanted to write it forever. I found my parents after the ceremony ended; we went to the reception for a little while, and then my dad took me to the store to get some Biltmore memorabilia. We went out to lunch, then I went back to the house to sleep, reflect, and get ready for the ultimate party: graduation night. I passed out a little bit after my head hit the pillow. I had a bit of a restless sleep until I was partially awoken by the sound of my door opening and closing. I tend to sleep on my stomach, so I kind of rolled over to see who it was. My eyes lit up a little and a smile crossed my face when I saw Andy. He shut the door, and quickly walked over to his side of the room and sat on his bed. "Wassup kid?" "Nottin Steve, congratulations man." "Thanks." My eyes were still a little groggy, and my contacts weren't feeling too good, which is pretty typical after sleeping with them on, but I was able to focus in on Andy. After studying his face for a couple minutes I realized he'd been crying a little. His eyes were puffy, and you could see where tears streamed down his cheek. "Dude, come here, what's wrong?" Andy sniffed a little bit, like only he could, and came over to me. He crawled into my bed and positioned himself so that his back was pushed into my chest and my arms were around him. When we were in that position I thought of the nights we spent like this over the past year. I held him tight and thanked God for his love. Andy started crying, and I turned him around and let him sob into my chest. I cradled his head and stroked his back to try to calm him down a little. I didn't want to say anything. I'm really bad in these situations, so I figured I'd let him be the first to open his mouth. He kind of cried himself out after about ten minutes and I just held him. Then I thought of the situation before me and let out a little chuckle. Here, in my arms, was Andrew Aaron Mason, III. Here, was my Andy. I should describe him for you, just so you can get a picture of what I was holding. Andy was an attackman for the lacrosse team. 6'2" 180lbs, short (almost buzzed) brown hair and blue eyes, he was beautiful. I called him a big dumb fuck, because he just looked like this big dumb goof. I'd never met someone so incessantly happy and joyful. He was so strong and self-confident. But when it came down to it, he was someone you wanted to protect. He wasn't dumb, and he certainly wasn't naive, but he was eternally optimistic. He was what I lived for. He was Andy. He got drunk and smoked weed, and was just happy, and generally harmless. His blue eyes could pierce my soul, and his strong arms made me feel safe. And here he was, crying in my arms. After a minute of silence he looked up at me and just stared into my eyes. It felt like an eternity before he spoke: "I never thought this day would come. God...I can't believe you're leaving. I'm going to miss you so much. I love you so much." And then: more crying. It broke my heart to think how much he was hurting. Then I got started because I realized that it could never be like this again. It would never be so easy. I had graduated and got a pretty sweet job, and he has two more years at BC. He was coaching at a lax camp for the summer where I was going to be living and would be living together, but after that who knew what was going to happen. I just held him tighter and hoped for a happy ending... There you go, a little bit of a taste for Steve and Andy. I hope you like them, because I do. Steve and I are pretty similar, and you'll get to find out a little bit more about him as things go on. I do have the first two chapters written, although I need to edit them. Whether I submit them or not will be based on reaction. SO please, any comments (good or bad) would be appreciated. I can't promise I'll get back to everyone, but clearly anyone who takes time to try to help me out will get an appropriate response. Also... I ask that you hold back on suggestions until after you get to know these kids a little bit. Just so you can see where I want to go before I try to go where you'd like to go. But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself.