CHAPTER 14
Anthony stood behind the counter at Right Round Records, beaming at the empty store.
This was so amazing! An advance copy of Erasure’s upcoming album I Say, I Say, I Say was playing over the store speakers.
His choice, of course, since he was running the show.
In addition to playing DJ, he was also in charge of organizing stock, which was like having access to an insanely huge music collection.
A middle-aged couple entered the store and looked around uncertainly.
Anthony left the checkout counter and offered his assistance, which they gratefully accepted.
Another perk! He loved talking about music.
Getting paid for being here felt too good to be true!
Best of all was that people didn’t seem as shocked by his appearance.
His unorthodox sense of style suited the environment.
To most people, he probably looked like one of the glam rockers they saw on MTV.
After ringing up an order, he resumed sorting through the mail, in case there were other promotional releases to be discovered. He glanced up when the door opened. Then he did a double take. Sunlight reflected off long blond hair and a pink overcoat.
“Charles!” he breathed in surprise.
The older man gasped when seeing him. “You work here now?”
“I wish! I mean, sort of. I’m filling in for a friend.”
“How fortuitous for yours truly!” Charles placed a purse on the counter. “We acquired a phonograph in the shop the other day, and I was hoping to find some records to play on it.”
“You need those old shellac discs instead of vinyl, right?”
Charles clasped his hands together gleefully. “And here I imagined myself struggling to explain the difference. Yes, that’s exactly what I need.”
“We definitely have some.”
Anthony led him over to the appropriate section. There wasn’t much of a selection. Charles seemed pleased regardless.
“You look fabulous,” he murmured while examining an album cover, his gaze flitting up to Anthony.
“Thanks. You’re beautiful. As always.”
Charles smiled. “We haven’t seen each other for quite some time. Not even at my shop. I even asked Cameron if the two of you were still an item. I don’t mean to come across as insecure or needy but… Have you been avoiding me?”
Anthony’s shoulders slumped. “I just have so many questions.”
Charles stopped browsing to focus on him completely. “Isn’t that all the more reason to visit with each other?”
“Yes! I’ve been dying to talk to you, but I’m scared.”
“Of little ol’ me?”
“No. Of the answers. And how they might change everything. Especially while Cameron is still around.”
“Ah. I understand. Well, when you are ready, please don’t hesitate to…”
Anthony darted away from him to lock the front door and flip around the “on break” sign.
“Or now is fine,” Charles amended, seeming amused.
Anthony grinned sheepishly when rejoining him. “I don’t know where to start.”
“With whatever is on your mind,” Charles replied. “Don’t worry about offending me.”
“Okay. Well… Did you ever think of using a different name?”
“Oh yes. I tried Charlotte on for size, for a short period, but I simply couldn’t get used to it.
People would have to say the name three or four times before I would react, not to mention the inconvenience of having it changed legally.
In the end, I realized that I was only using the name to appease others.
I imagined some sort of dissonance between my feminine appearance and my masculine name, and perhaps there is, but so what?
That is who I am. When anyone reacts poorly, I suggest they call me Chuck instead, if it makes them more comfortable. ”
Anthony laughed. “I like the name Annie,” he said, feeling lightheaded with the confession. “More than my own.”
“Then perhaps you should try it on for size. Would you like me to call you Annie from now on?”
“Not yet! I mean, Cameron already knows but…”
Charles studied him. “You want to remain the person that he fell in love with.”
“Yeah. Just until he moves away. Cameron didn’t ask for that, but I want to give it to him.”
“I see. Well, what if I called you Annie when it’s just the two of us? Would you find that useful?”
“I’d love it!”
“Wonderful!” Charles extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Annie.”
Anthony grasped his hand briefly, noticing the long, manicured nails. His own were short. He liked painting his nails, but he wasn’t sure he’d want to grow them out like that.
“How did you decide how far to take everything?” he asked.
“Simply by experimenting.”
“Yeah, but some decisions are um…”
“Permanent?” Charles used two fingers to make a cutting motion, a twinkle in his eye.
“Exactly,” Anthony confirmed, laughing away his embarrassment.
“Even the most drastic of changes can be approached in increments. Tucking is an art form. You can begin by standing in front of a mirror and hiding certain things from view. If that sets your world on fire, you can try it for an extended period by getting creative with athletic tape. When it comes to breasts, stuffing a bra doesn’t take much effort.
For a more realistic feel, mastectomy prosthetics are another option.
Baby steps will help you decide if you want to take a big leap like surgery. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Anthony replied with a sense of relief.
Charles beamed at him. “I wish more people would indulge in the sort of soul-searching you’re doing.
On any issue, really, not just those that relate to being queer.
Nothing is more gratifying than getting to know oneself, as long as that journey is paired with self-acceptance.
Society certainly doesn’t make it easy, especially when it comes to gender norms. The pressure men feel to hide their tears, for instance, no matter how justifiable the cause.
Or all the restrictions placed on women under the guise of what is allegedly ladylike.
Cry if you want. Burp as loud as you please!
There is no one-size-fits-all behavior in any country or any culture.
What offends one person delights another.
We should all do our best to keep things civil, but not at the expense of our own personal happiness. ”
Anthony shook his head, overwhelmed with admiration. “You’re so cool!”
“I’m merely opinionated, but that’s very kind of you to say.” Charles resumed flipping through the shellac records. “You don’t have the Beatles in this format?”
Anthony made a face. “Records were only vinyl by the sixties. Weren’t they?”
“You would think. Some regions, like India, were still producing them in the early sixties. If a customer ever brings a Beatles 78-rpm into the store for trade, snap it up. They’ve become rather valuable collector items.” Charles set aside a few more records before picking up the stack. “I’ll take these.”
Anthony led him back to the counter. “Want me to use my employee discount?”
“No, darling, but thank you. I’ll make a tidy profit when bundling these with the phonograph.”
Anthony was especially careful when bagging the records, since shellac was brittle and prone to breaking.
“I can see that working here suits you,” Charles commented. “Although I hope you don’t make a career of it, since you continue to impress my husband with your writing.”
Anthony smiled at this news. He envied Charles. Not only was he already comfortable with himself, but he’d done what seemed impossible. “After you became the way you are now, was it hard to find love?”
“I’m not sure it’s ever easy for anyone,” the older man replied.
“Putting yourself out there repeatedly takes courage. But you can increase the odds by being your truest self. That way you’ll shine bright as can be, making it easier for the right person to spot you.
” Charles winked. “I must tend to my own store now. You know where to find me. Don’t be a stranger, Annie. ”
“I won’t,” he replied, feeling a surge of gratitude.
Anthony stared at the door, even after it closed, a rectangle of light warming the floor. He still had a long road ahead of him, but at least he had someone to guide him along the way.
— — —
Diego’s muscles were stiff from being locked in place for so long.
Ricky was to blame for that, clinging to his bare torso like a koala.
They were stretched out on the bed. If a mattress on the floor could be called that.
Diego had shoved a pillow into the corner of his bedroom so he could rest against it, but now his back was starting to ache, so cuddle time was over.
As he shifted, Ricky took the hint and sat up, his eyes big and watery, like he was still sad about something.
Which was frustrating, because Diego had thought that making love would fix it.
He’d even been tender. And yet, Ricky continued to stare at him like his heart was breaking.
Why did relationships have to be so damn confusing?
Diego figured that being with another dude would make it easier, and yet, once again, the person he was with wanted something he couldn’t give.
Except he was actually willing this time.
If only he could figure out what Ricky needed!
“We’ll find that thing,” Diego said.
“Huh?”
“Our whatever-it-is that we have in common.”
“Oh.” Ricky shook his head, like it was no longer important.
Diego tossed the pillow aside, resting his back against the wall instead, and pulled his legs up, causing the sheets to tent. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!”
“Uh-huh.” Diego watched him get dressed, still trying to pinpoint the issue. “You’ve been acting weird since we were at my dad’s grave.”
Ricky spun around, a T-shirt clutched in his hands. “What do you mean?”
“You tell me. Is this because of the Mindy thing?”
Ricky pressed his lips together.
“Hearts are like dicks. You don’t have control over them.”
Ricky’s features darkened. Which was good. At least it meant they were getting somewhere.