My North Star Pt. 05

Feedback encouraged in the comments.

Please be ruthless if you notice a fucked up comma, or italics. : D

Do you guys think Michael might actually be bisexual, or no? Curious.

Trigger/Content Warning:

This story contains themes of religious guilt, emotional repression, family trauma, and queer yearning. It's a slow-burn gay romance with a dumbass himbo and a beautiful femboy. It also explores the internal struggle of growing desire, shame, and forbidden closeness between two best friends.

There are a few homophobic slurs used in specific moments and some veiled references to Domestic Violence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 5- Bathsheba

Somewhere West of Atlanta, Georgia, Spring, 2023.

Wednesday, February 15th

Today is a new day. The day he has made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it.

My alarms jolted me awake at 6:00 a. m. sharp. A new routine was necessary.

Our apartment complex is shaped like a trident; we live in the back-left corner. I started with a jog around the perimeter, then across the street to the local Walgreens.

I smiled at the pretty cashier. Bought a Gatorade and a vanilla protein shake. Boring, maybe, but clean.

I needed clean after the indulgences of last night.

Back home by 6:45. Straight into calisthenics, pushups, arm curls with my dumbbells. The coffee table proved sturdy enough for incline reps.

Showered at 7:20. Dressed by 7:30. Out the door before my roommate could wake up and say good morning. I didn't need the... distraction. I heard his alarm faintly as I closed the door behind me.

Campus by 7:42. I spent the morning with my Environmental Science textbook. I needed to clean up my act. Be a good student. A man my mother could be proud of.

Dedication and hard work are the hallmarks of a good life. A good life is God's reward to His faithful. And I needed to prove I was worthy of his forgiveness.

I changed my usual lunch spot to the Chick-fil-a across campus and enjoyed the early afternoon walk. Strangers returned my smile and a few ladies eyed the muscles under my T-shirt.

The cashier gave me a free drink. A girl from my class sat a few tables over. I smiled---she came over. We talked. Exchanged numbers. Huh. Maybe relationships weren't so complicated after all.

What had I been so afraid of?

After lunch, I hit the library to study. Reviewed my courses. Fixed the gaps in my learning. Sent the girl a message---she responded quickly. A few flirtatious lines. She laughed. I asked her to dinner. She said yes.

By 3:22, I was off campus. Home at 3:40. Showered, dressed, and out the door by 4:00---before my roommate got back. I couldn't see him smile today.

I couldn't see him smile today.

I went to the mall. Bought a new shirt. Chatted with some people at the shoe store. Made the smoothie girl blush. As my mother used to say: A smile opens more doors than a key ever could.

Hit the campus gym for a quick rinse and change.

I cleaned up nicely.

Dinner went well. Mexican restaurant. Jokes. Laughs. We made out in the car. She invited me to study tomorrow.

I was good at this. So why did I still feel sick?

Back home by 11:12. Showered. In bed by 11:45.

Thursday, February 16th

I barely slept. My skin itched with nervous energy. Maybe I should see her again later...

I was jogging before the sun rose. Breakfast by 6:30---two plain eggs, half a cup of milk. Cleaned my plate. Did the dishes. Then the counters. Then mopped the floor.

My roommate's alarm went off. I tucked the mop away and went to my room.

I logged into my PC and checked my trades. Closed a few, opened some new ones. The profit looked good---maybe I could take her somewhere nicer tonight. That suit in my closet needed an excuse anyway.

I'm a natural at this. Smart. Calm under pressure. I thrive in stressful environments.

Showered at 7:10. Changed by 7:20. I was out the door before my roommate finished changing.

Parked at 7:31. Seated in Professor Linnell's class by 7:36. I rewrote Monday's notes. No idea why my brain was so scrambled that day.

Page one full by 8:16. Page two by 8:33. Aquatic fowl habitat destruction in Baton Rouge. A surprisingly fascinating topic---if you were paying attention. Most people in the back weren't. Idiots.

This deserved our full focus---not distractions.

Our professor was from Nottingham and loved to remind us---constantly---that we were "a nation of bellends who threw a tantrum in 1776."

My phone buzzed. A familiar name.

I ignored it. And the lump in my throat.

Page four was done by 8:47. Lecture ended a few minutes later.

I slipped out the side exit. Heard my name, faintly, behind me.

I didn't look back.

Chick-fil-A was north of campus. I ate an Uncrustable from my bag as I walked. She told me to meet her there this morning---I didn't want to be late.

She spotted me first. Hugged me hard, pressed against me. In the corner of my eye, I saw him.

My roommate.

His expression was unreadable.

He looked like he wanted to speak. Maybe approach.

I turned away and grabbed her hand.

No distractions.

We studied for 3 hours and 17 minutes. I stayed present. Responded with cheerful interest. Asked her to lunch---BBQ. Sauce spilled on my shirt. We laughed. She blushed. We planned a second date.

But the nervousness returned.

Why?

I went to my afternoon class at 1:25 and walked out of class at 2:15. Parked in my complex at 2:29.

Calisthenics, dumbbells, and pushups. Shaved, trimmed, and groomed. Showered.

Read my bible for guidance.

Now more than ever, I knew I needed to find my North Star.

I left at 3:45 and passed my roommate in the trident. He waved. I sped up. This sinner didn't deserve kindness or mercy.

Bought cologne, flowers, and condoms. Picked the size I thought was right. Never used one before.

But tonight, I would be a man. She deserved someone who could give her that.

Picked her up at 5:56. She wore blue. Blushed when I opened the door.

Dinner at a local steakhouse by 6:22. I did everything my mother taught me. Manners. Compliments. Grace.

She smiled. Laughed. Her hand lingered on mine. The wine glistened in our glasses. She said no one had ever treated her this well.

She invited me up.

I had dated women before but never felt such confidence. This woman would be swept off of her feet tonight.

Her room was what you'd expect: cluttered floor, Taylor Swift poster, bedside drawer slightly ajar.

Candles. Dimmed lights. Faint scent of wax.

My father would be proud. Wouldn't he?

Cinnamon

"What?" she asked. "Do you not like my new candle?"

I looked around the room again. Her voice was panicked.

"It's fine," I muttered.

She smiled. "Don't go anywhere, cutie. I'm just going to slip into something special."

She vanished into the bathroom, giggling.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.

What the hell am I doing here?

I can't fuck away the stress. I can't erase this confusion with a condom and a Pinot Noir buzz.

This girl deserves truth. And love---not the shadow of someone else's ghost.

Cinnamon

I can't be him. I can't be my father.

"Just a minute more, cutie, and you get to open your prize..."

God, I don't deserve Your forgiveness.

But please---help me not screw this up.

What do I even say?

"Oh hey baby. I've got to go because I got drafted in the army to fight North Korea."

"Oh hey baby. I need to run and pick up dinner for my ailing second uncle."

"Oh hey baby, just so you know... I'm probably gay. Haha?"

I could use a miracle right about now

"Red Solo Cup, I fill you up..."

A stupid ringtone goes off that is used only for one person.

My eyes flash to the suit coat hanging off the bedroom door. A shock jolts me off the bed as my fingers search for my phone with fierce determination.

My Stephen is calling.

"What's up... buddy?"

"Mikey---there's gunshots. Across the street. I don't know what to do."

My heart jumps up my throat and I grab the dresser for stability.

"I hid under your bed like you said. I locked the door but... I forgot the code to the safe. Mikey please. Please come home. Come save me. Please..."

The sobs of heaven's most beautiful creation shattered every illusion I'd built this week.

There is nowhere---between Heaven and Hell---I would not go for him.

God can't take him. Not yet. Not while I'm still here.

Not while I still have breath to beg.

Stephanie emerged from the bathroom in white lingerie.

I didn't stop. Wallet. Keys. Gone.

Didn't grab my coat. Or umbrella.

Didn't matter.

Let the rain fall.

I might be on the highway to Hell, but I'm in the driver's seat now.

My knuckles gripped the wheel until they blanched.

Red lights blurred past. Stop signs meant nothing.

The devil thought he could win tonight.

But he doesn't know who my mother raised.

Stephen is expecting a hero.

His Superman.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading. : D

Is that a bird... Is that a plane... No, it's Superman!

-YearningStories <3