Chapter 6 #2
The app suddenly chirps loudly, my phone vibrates and I flinch.
Your picture has been approved!
I look up at the bed, at Ronan still splayed out on it – having completely forgotten he was here.
I bat away thoughts of him calling the police and having me arrested for some revenge porn-related activity.
(I think it’s illegal now. But I should probably check – though his face isn’t in the shots, so I should be fine.) I flick the side switch so the phone turns to silent.
It vibrates again, and a name pops up.
Prince Hairy.
Another face.
He looks nice, a little older. Perhaps he is some kind of stalwart, an elder of Grindr, like Elrond, the king of the Elves in The Lord of the Rings.
He does seem to have a kind of wisdom to his features.
A beard and kind blue eyes. I could ask him for some guidance.
I construct my opener, remembering all I know about the queer community from my years of being an ally.
Hey Kween! Slay!
I send.
I stare at the screen, wondering if I should have gone a bit further. Loving the realness, honey! Slay the house down! I think they say that. They do – the drag queens – on Instagram. I don’t understand it, but it’s fun to—
Message read.
Oh, he’s seen it!
Immediately.
Now? What time is it? Late.
11:36.
I suppose gays like to party.
No response.
No response.
OK.
I’m panicking.
And drunk.
This was a mistake.
Delete?
Yes.
Delete it.
Delete it.
Oh God...
It’s so derogative!
Pretend it never happened. That I was hacked.
Oh, he’s typing.
Oh no.
What have I done?
I hate myself—
Ummm k?
slay
Yas!
See.
I excitedly type –
Slay Kween yas gawd!
Pause.
Then delete. Overkill. Over-slay.
Keep it chill.
Instead I write –
I love your pictures
Eating it up! No crumbs left
I press send.
A red exclamation mark appears next to my message.
Strange.
I try again.
You have been blocked.
Huh?
For rules around hate speech, please see the terms and conditions.
Hate speech, Prince Hairy?
I knew there would be terms and conditions.
My phone vibrates again.
1 NEW MESSAGE
Someone has initiated talking to me.
To me!
I feel immediately and oddly flattered – a rush of serotonin entering my brain, the excitement making me nearly drop my phone.
I click the profile.
Daddy
Daddy’s photo is of a face – which again is immediately comforting. He looks mid-thirties, perhaps a little older than me. Kind and well kept. Responsible. In a shirt, moustached, a little mop of hair pushed back. Quite professional, really.
Hey. Into?
Into? Straight to the point.
You here for fun?
Fun.
Yes. This does feel like that.
I see flashing images of me and Daddy becoming best friends, going for coffee and hikes, discussing the nuances of emotional pain.
I haven’t had time to think about the voice of Chat?
;) yet. Who should I be? The slay Kween approach obviously didn’t work as I thought it might.
Perhaps I’ll keep it closer to home, for now.
Come to think of it, someone once said I’m practically a gay man in a woman’s body.
I can’t remember if I’ve made that up, but I’m sure it was at some point during the attic conversion, because of my keen eye for interior design.
I think it was one of the cool gays from the Maynard Arms.
Or it was Joanie. Again.
I settle for –
Most definitely
All right Shakespeare
Shakespeare?
Wow.
Woolf, eat your heart out.
You some kind of professor?
Potentially
Hot
You like to be called Professor?
I mean...
Yes
Hoootttt
You a daddy too?
I think perhaps staying with the more mature type is good. Aligning with them. It feels more comfortable. Safer.
I am
Cute
You’re a top then?
Despite hearing it a lot, I’m still not entirely sure what that means but I’ll just say yes for now.
Yes
Perfect
What kind of fun you into?
I’m going to stick with the honest approach.
I’m looking to see and understand the real gay experience
OK, that sounded weird.
Maybe weird is good. Maybe it’s a thing?
Oh, God—
Lol
I think I can help you with that
Ur hot
I’m hot.
He sends three aubergine emojis.
I can’t seem to help myself but reply, with four.
For research.
What have you got in mind?
T-party
T-party.
As in, an actual tea party?
lol. Yeah. It’s chill, fun. Nice and safe
Just a gathering of cool people
They’d like you!
Nothing to worry about
Come!
Nice and safe.
Is it only for Dads?
No, everyone welcome who wants to meet new ppl
Have a little chill
Oh, that’s nice. A way to grow a circle of friends.
When is it?
now
Oh, wow – interesting. A late-night tea party.
Despite the expanding thrill in the pit of my stomach, I cannot accept the invite.
Sadly it’s a bit late. I’m up early
Don’t worry it’s all good
Spk soon x
Damn it. I have a sudden sadness that I might never get to talk to Daddy ever again. I feel like a character myself. My own creation. It’s almost like when I started Shallow Embers, losing myself in other people. I can be anyone I want to be. The possibilities are endless.
I realise something.
I feel alive. A yearning pulls, a draw to what is intrinsically me. Creating. Truth seeking.
Telling the truth.
Could we maybe just chat instead?
I stare at the screen, waiting for his reply.
But he doesn’t.
When I look up, the coldness of the off-white wall slaps me awake.
What the hell am I doing?
I stand, pacing for a moment, avoiding my panic. I tiptoe around the bed, to Ronan’s side, and stand over his nightstand where I see a stack of cards. congratulations! you the man! i am so immensely proud of you – look at you go!
My card is there too.
I hesitate, then take it from the stack and open it.
My darling, I am so proud of you.
Thank you for being the rock of this family.
I owe you so much.
Your Mallory.
My stomach twists into an uncomfortable knot. I turn and study him for a moment, snoring gently. After I wrote Shallow Embers, he was working at the BBC, with a mountain of debt. We used my advance to pay that off, and then he was headhunted to Netflix. So much has changed.
He looks so gentle in this light. So harmless.
White Lies.
Something flashes on the nightstand, making me jump.
His phone.
I look down to see it is a message from Joanie.
Loved seeing you tonight, babe. Ur smashing it. We are all in awe. Hope Meek Mal gave u some fun in the end ;)
A sudden surge of heat radiates throughout my body. Meek Mal. I’d thought it was Ronan’s little joke, his charm, saved just for me. He always smiled after he’d said it, in that way that felt like he was being kind, like he really meant the opposite.
It’s so warm in here. Rain starts to drum against the window in the roof, and there is static in the air – a pressure that makes me feel sick – until I hear the distant sound of thunder.
It breaks the pressure.
When I was on the psych ward, leaving wasn’t an option. I wasn’t allowed to talk about it after I was discharged, either. It was good to stay quiet, I was told.
No one really knew what had happened.
But I know.
I know what happened.
I leave his phone on his nightstand, and take out mine. I open up Grindr and find Daddy.
Hi, what’s the address?
Yas!
Yasssssssss
53 Priory Rd, Kween
Priory Road. That’s literally five minutes’ walk away. It’s right near our friends Caro and Benji. They work in tech, and are loaded. It’s a lovely street.
Nice and safe.
But I can’t leave.
Can I?
Do I need to bring anything?
Just urself
Are people hungry?
Starving bb
We’re all starving