Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
DEADPOOL
I can’t believe how nervous I am. It’s not like I haven’t met Julio before. Hell, I’ve seen the guy more of less naked already at work! Why are my palms sweating and my tongue feeling three sizes too big in my mouth?
Maybe it’s because I’m worried about fucking it up, and ruining a really good friendship and making work all awkward. Maybe it’s because obviously he’s going to take one look at my skinny ass and realize he’s made a mistake. Maybe it’s because when he finds out…
I shake my head and try to bring myself back into the moment. I’m sat in a coffee shop (a different one from earlier today with Cal, I had to go home and change after all), and Julio is running late. The place is still pretty busy, even at six in the evening, but then, the city never stops, does it. There’s about three different guys working on laptops, one in a suit who must be working on, I dunno, a legal brief, or a product pitch. The other two are in, in no particular order, a sweatshirt and chinos, and shorts and a cut off band t-shirt. Writers. I know my own breed when I see ‘em.
A group of young women are drinking at the table on my left, and I hear them laughing, and hope they’re not laughing at me being stood up.
Then the door makes a pleasing chime and I look up and in walks Julio, a big goofy grin on his face when he sees me, and he bounces over as I stand and he wraps his thick, beefy arms around me in a hug. He’s wearing a letterman jacket, long basketball shorts and slides, and as he holds me I realize underneath the jacket is a cut off muscle tank top, a flash of pec peeking out. The casual attire is making me feel a bit overdressed in chinos, dress shirt and waistcoat.
“Hey, Jesse, dude! I am so sorry I’m late, I just got a little into my game and lost track of time,” he laughs apologetically so I shrug to let him know I haven’t been sat here stressing I was being left alone.
“No worries. What were you playing?” I ask, assuming it will be some sort of sports sim, given how macho my muscly date is.
“Oh, Azuldur’s Crossing 3 ! I have an orc bard build, and I was kinda trying to woo this hot vampy dark elf on my party…got a little into it,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
I look at him wide eyed. Andy was right…Julio is a nerd .
We grab some coffees and take a seat. There’s an awkward moment of silence as we just sit there, taking peeks at each other over our cups.
I break the silence. “This is weird, right?”
Julio laughs. “I know, right! I mean, we’re not new to this whole thing, and we know each other too. I think it’s just because I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for, like, ages, dude.”
My eyes go wide again as I splutter on my coffee. “ You have a crush on me ?”
“Well, yeah, dude,” he laughs, handing me a paper napkin. “You’re cute as all hell, you’re funny, and dude, you’re so cool! You make comics at Excelsior, man! I mean, that is insane!”
Dabbing the foam from my face, and feeling a slight heat rise in my cheeks, I play the coy hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just an intern.”
“Yeah, but in the place where, like, fantasy is made, man! Like, you must see it all! Like, how many celebrities you must bump into on the daily!”
“Celebrities?” I’m a little bemused, does he mean the writers and artists of the comics? Because it’s rare to hear them called ‘celebrities’, even by the fans to be honest. Which is mad crazy, when you think about it.
The Excelsior Cinematic Universe makes billions of dollars, but none of that really gets seen at the offices I work in. It’s pretty much all hoarded by the parent company that bought us as an entertainment concern some fifteen years back, and has been making movies that have lit up cinemas the world over for the best part of a decade now, giving the MCU a run for it’s money. Like, the last film, (even I forget which one it was, it feels like they come out every month at this point and it’s hard to keep track) made something like $27 billion at the box office. But the creator of the lead character in that movie saw his last days in hospital with a GoFundMe running to pay his bills so it wouldn’t absolutely cripple his family.
No one cares enough about the people who actually had the dreams to begin with to make sure they’re fairly compensated for the use of their dreams to make an Aladdin’s Cave of wealth for the studio. And I think that’s just how the studio likes it.
“Yeah, man, like, have you ever seen Captain Excel himself? Tom Foley is meant to be so nice. And that ass on him? Muy bueno,” Julio laughs, but I feel a little awkward. Am I really going to have to do this? I decide I best shoot down some of his misunderstandings gently before we go further.
“Actually, we don’t really have anything to do with the movies. It’s a different company, Excelsior Studios. I’m interning at Excelsior Comics, we make the comics that those movies are based on, but they rarely involve us in the productions. I haven’t met any of the stars, if I’m honest,” Julio tilts his head, like I just blew his mind with this pretty basic knowledge. It always blows me away that people don’t understand the separation between the film studio and what we do, but then, I have to remember I’m in it , as it were. It would seem obvious to me. “But hey, I have to agree, Tom’s ass is divine.” I smile, trying to bring the mood back up.
Thankfully, it works, as a smile spreads along Julio’s face again as he reaches over and touches the back of my hand. “Ha, right. But then, you know what you’re talking about. Your butt is fire too,” he peeks at me with a devilish look, but I can see a little color in his cheeks and realize he’s hiding as many nerves as I am.
I feel the heat fill my own face and scoff. “Oh, look who’s talking. You can literally make your rent in a single night shaking yours,” I smile to let him know I’m being facetious. Kind of. I’ve literally seen him leave with stacks before.
The rest of the night goes far less awkwardly. We drink our coffees and joke about the club and the queens, and tell each other a bit more about our lives, things which haven’t come up so often when we see each other at work. He gives me some tips for the gym to use to help me get the muscle definition I want, and I give him some reading suggestions for the Excelsior Comics behind the films he loves so much.
He’s a total fanboy, it turns out. “Dude, I’m more than just a dancer, too. I’d really love to get on the screen myself someday,” he tells me.
“Oh? You’re a drama kid?”
“Well, nah, I never really did all that in high school or anything. But, like, you don’t need to these days, right? It’d be my dream to get in one of the movies, you know. I could be the Excelsiors ’ hype man!” Julio laughs, and I join him in his private dorky dream, something I never in a million years would have thought he had.
It’s sweet, and we’re both dipping into the occasional slightly raunchy joke too. After all, we’ve seen each other nearly naked pretty much on the regular, me seeing him more than the other way around, sure, but apparently the appreciation of each other’s physiques is very mutual.
But even with all this, there’s still an awkward element. I have to shoot down Julio’s delusions about my work in comics a few more times, and while it doesn’t ruin anything, I can’t help but feel a little cruel disabusing him of his fantasies like that. But it would equally feel dishonest not to let him know how my world really operates, and that I’m not any kind of crazy big deal.
We leave the coffee shop and go for a walk through a nearby park, and I eventually try to move him on by talking about comics I’ve actually made.
“Oh, that’s so cool, too!” he says, enthusiastically, and I can tell he actually means it. Like, if he had a tail, I am fairly certain it would be wagging right now.
“Thanks. I mean, I like it. But I admit, I’ve not been working on them so much at the moment,” I say, hands in my pockets as I walk.
“How come?”
“Oh, just work getting in the way, I guess,” I sigh. “The internship can get real busy, and it really is right now. Plus then there’s the bar, and sometimes I just feel kind of exhausted. But I really should give it some more focus, I owe it to Cal, if nothing else.”
“Who’s Cal?” Julio asks, honestly interested and I swear with a hint of nervousness or even jealousy.
“Oh, he’s my best friend. But he’s also sometimes my writing partner. We did a comic together last year called Flowers for the Dead . It’s about this post-apocalyptic world wear the flora of the planet has become sentient and killed most of humanity. One of the last refuges of mankind is under threat, and there’s our hero who’s got to come up with a way to stop the encroaching plants in their tracks, without destroying the world.” I give him to overarching pitch, my hands bouncing out of my pockets to gesticulate wildly. I guess the excitement that book still gives me is energizing.
“But, like, the plants have a trick up their sleeve, and they take over this other guy to infiltrate the city and our hero’s lab, pretending to be a human. But then the plant dude and our dude kind of fall in love, despite their two sides warring with each other. It’s got this whole body horror side to it too, which is very much Cal’s influence, but it’s honestly the best thing I’ve ever done, I think.”
“Dude, that sounds gnarly AF! I gotta read it,” Julio says, jaw left hanging open like I just told him I wrote, like, Lord of the Rings or something. Or more likely, Captain Excel .
We come to the end of the park pathway, nearing one of the exits. The sun has fully set, and the lights of the city have come to life, the sounds of cars sweeping by surrounding us. We stop at the mouth of the exit, and turn to each other.
Julio rubs the back of his neck. “This has been really nice, Jesse.”
“Yeah, yeah, it has,” I smile, and I’m not lying. It has been nice…even if I’m already thinking about if this could even work. “But I got a long day ahead of me tomorrow, so I guess I should head home.”
“Tha’s cool,” Julio says, kicking the dirt absently with one shoe, hands in his pocket. It’s adorable, but he kind of looks like a big kid at this moment.
“But hey, maybe I can bring a copy of my comic by the bar next shift, see what you think?”
His eyes light up as he stares at me, smiling. “Oh hell yeah, dude, that would be awesome,” Suddenly, he looks kind of nervous, before fixing me with his gaze again. “Is it okay if I give you a good night kiss?”
My cheeks must be glowing red again, and I’m overtaken by how adorable this is. I think he’s the first person to actually ask me, all nervous like that, and this is a guy who looks like…well, like Julio! “I, err, I think I could be open to that,” I stutter.
“Cool,” Julio smiles. Then he takes a step forward, and I feel his hand slip around me into the small of my back. He pulls me closer, and I fall into him, my lips meeting his.
And all I can think about is how soft they are, how gentle they move over mine, as his body against mine feels warm, and a little soft too, but underneath that I feel the firmness of his muscles. Like a comforting weighted blanket. Except then I feel that this blanket has a rapidly growing other element, and I feel myself getting hot down there too.
He breaks off the kiss slowly, my eyes still closed as I see stars form on the back of my eyelids in constellations of fleeting bliss. Oh my god, that kiss was insane .
“‘Night, Jesse,” he says, thumb brushing down my cheek, then along my lower lip.
“Goodnight, Julio,” I exhale, our faces bare centimeters apart.
“Get a goddamn room, ya fruits!” Someone yells from a passing cab, prompting Julio to pull away and turn his focus after it, waving his arm in the air angrily. “Get a goddamn life , pendejo!”
He turns back to me. “Next time,” he grins, biting his lower lip in a way that has turned my insides to jelly.
“Yeah. Next time,” I reply, but my mind fogs over. Should there be a next time?
Julio claps his hands together, breaking me out of my head, and bounces on his heels backwards. He spins, waves another goodbye, and then turns away to head on home, a clear spring in his step.
I stand there for a moment watching this absolutely adorable dork, before the smile on my face fades and the clouds in my head come back. I turn and head for the apartment.
By the time I get up to our place in Harlem, the clouds in my head have turned into a full storm. I can’t help thinking about the night, no matter how well it went, how much of a mistake it would be to go further.
Like, is there any point? Eventually, he’d get tired of me shooting down all his fantasies, or I’d get tired of how clueless he is to the realities of how the entertainment industry works. And isn’t that really shallow? Am I that shallow?
I walk into the apartment, fisting my keys back into my pocket. Walking through the small corridor, I pass the bathroom, and both bedroom doors to get to the living room/kitchen/dining room of our small apartment, where I find my roommate Amanda curled up on the couch, nose buried in a novel. She doesn’t even look up over her glasses at me, her blue and pink braids falling casually over her shoulders, one dungaree strap falling off her brown-skinned shoulder.
I aim myself towards the vintage armchair we found at a flea market shortly after we moved in, plonk myself down into it with a sigh. After a minute of no reaction from her, I sigh again, louder.
Amanda rolls her eyes, closes her book over her index finger, keeping her place, and slowly turns her head toward me.
“And how was the date?” She asks, deadpan, in a tone that screams ‘as if I even care’.
“I honestly don’t know ,” I sigh melodramatically, looking at the ceiling.
Sighing herself, Amanda reaches for her bookmark, places it on her page and sets the book aside.
“Tell me all about it,” she enquires, sarcastically.
I fill her in on most of the details, but omit a few she probably doesn’t need to know, before getting to where my head is at.
“Like, he’s so hot, and that kiss? Amanda, that kiss!” I throw my hands up in the air and slide down in my seat.
Amanda blinks slowly, then stands, heading over to the kitchen and opening our small refrigerator. She grabs a beer, and a canned cocktail for me.
“Anyone can be a good kisser, Jesse. But you don’t seem so sure that’s all you need.”
“I mean, he’s so sweet, too. And he seems to think I’m cute and cool, and that’s nice. But I dunno, I kind of feel like it couldn’t work out already?”
She throws herself back down on the couch, grabbing a throw to drape over herself and then she twists the cap off her beer. “Why?”
I think for a moment, “I dunno. I think one of us would get bored of the other. If I’m always having to break up his fantasies about what I do. He’s really naive to how my job actually works, y’know?” I throw my face in my hands. “Oh my god, I sound like an asshole.”
“A little,” she says, and I glare at her. “But why’s he got to understand your work life, anyway? Why’s that matter?”
I lean on the arm of the armchair like a despondent puppy.
“Don’t I want a partner who understands and can be there?”
“I don’t know. Do you?” I look over and she just stares at me, hands folded in her lap, her beer sat next to her book.
I sigh, lurching to my feet dramatically. “Oh, you’re no help! I’m going to crash for the night. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I need to sleep.”
“Okay,” she says, watching me walk away before grabbing her book, flipping back to her page, and burying her focus back into it. “Good talk.”
I pause at the doorway, throwing her one last glare. She waves her fingers at me, not even looking up from her book, so I storm into my room, closing the door behind me and throwing myself face down onto my bed with a huff.
“God, I love that woman,” I mumble into the sheets, to no one at all.