Part 6
I woke up later that morning lying in my bed with the sheets pulled over my body, still wearing my clothes from the night before aside from my shirt, which had been removed and was draped over the bedpost. Sunlight peeked in through the slit between the curtains at my window. I rolled over wearily to look at the wall clock � 11:45am. I wasn�t very surprised at the length of time that I�d slept � my last recollection of the evening with Paul was downing yet another round of beer at about 3am. We may have left the celebrations in Sydney, but our bodies and our minds were still in party mode, and we drunkenly mimed along to old Beatles songs as we bounced from room to room. As I crawled out of bed and pulled my shirt over my chest, feeling every joint in my body creak, I walked out into the living room expecting to see empty beer bottles, pillows and other random items scattered all over the floor. But to my surprise, the room was immaculate, with no evidence of last night�s activities. The headache I�d woken up with eased only slightly, but not enough to grant me any relief from the pain. Massaging my temples, I made my way into the kitchen and fumbled through the medicine cupboard for a hangover cure. Knowing that if I took aspirin I would only bring it back up, I settled for a Bloody Mary, which I had been told by many people was a surefire hangover cure. I suspected that at least a few hundred, maybe a few thousand, people would be trying the same thing that I was.
As I gathered the ingredients on the kitchen bench, I noticed a piece of paper sitting near the telephone with a message scrawled on it in blue ink. Curiously, I took the note and read it aloud.
"Richard - I didn�t want to be a messy houseguest and leave the house looking like it�d been torn through by a tornado, so I cleared the flotsam. I hope everything is in its correct place. I enjoyed my time with you last night � it made the passing from one year to another more pleasant.
I�m going a gig at the Metro tonight. I�d really like to see you again, so if you�re coming into town tonight, why not drop backstage and say hi? I�ve put your name on the guest list just in case.
Take care � Paul."
A mobile phone number was written at the bottom of the page. I hadn�t made any plans for that evening � when I�d first woken up the only thing I wanted to do that day was stay under the covers. But now that I knew that Paul was going to be playing that night, there was no way I wanted to miss out on it. I recalled Paul�s impromptu performance of �Mama Told Me Not To Come� at the bar and smiled fondly at the memory. It seemed that no matter where he sang or what song he chose, people loved him. Many artists were only suited to a particular venue, but Paul could appear almost anywhere and still make a great impact. I admired him for that.
I placed the note back where I�d found it and returned to the preparation of the Bloody Mary, desperate for relief. But I was interrupted again, this time by a knock on the door. Grunting as my head pulsated insistently, I left the ingredients on the bench and strode to the front door, pulling it open. It was Tez, dressed in attire completely opposite to what he was wearing the night before � a simple black button-down shirt and a form-fitting pair of denim jeans. A backpack hanging from one strap over his shoulder indicated that he was on his way downtown. He hadn�t quite been able to clean away all of the glitter on his body. His hair was still pink, but he�d obviously washed his hair that morning as the colour was already fading. He regarded me with slight discomfort.
"...Hi. How�re you feeling?" he asked.
"I feel like shit, thank you for asking," I replied, smiling and pulling the door open fully to invite him inside. As he passed, I noticed that he didn�t greet me with a friendly peck on the cheek like he usually did. Whenever he didn�t do that, it always meant that something was bothering him. "So have you come here to blast me for taking you away from the parties last night?"
He turned and looked at me with momentary confusion, but it passed as quickly as it came. He shook his head and uncomfortably folded his arms across his chest. "No, no, that�s not why I�m here."
I knew he had more to say so I kept silent and waited patiently, closing the door behind me. He looked as though he was struggling to find the right way to go about saying what he wanted to say, and it made him feel even more awkward. Finally he turned to face me but didn�t make eye contact, instead focusing on his shoelaces.
"Um...do you remember what happened when you dropped me off at home last night?" he asked. I knew what he was referring to and nodded. "Well, I just wanted to apologise. I was absolutely blitzed, I wouldn�t normally force anything on you. You know that, right?"
"Of course I do. Look, don�t worry about it, it didn�t mean anything."
Tez took a deep breath, exhaled loudly and took slow steps towards me. As he advanced I cornered myself in to the kitchen, allowing me no escape if the need arose. Though the look on Tez�s face certainly wasn�t a menacing one � more affectionate, with a touch of fear mixed in. Although I was curious about his intentions, I didn�t say anything. Once he was close enough, he raised his arm and tenderly traced his index finger down my cheek. I knew what was going to follow the touch, but strangely enough, I didn�t voice objection.
"It meant something to me, Rich," he said softly, then leant forward and gently pressed his lips against mine. Without knowing why, I returned the kiss, silently remembering the last time a man�s lips had met my own. I explored his mouth, enjoying the sweet taste, letting the tips of our tongues brush against each-other likely before plunging inside. He wrapped his arms around my waist, lightly stroking my back.
Then all of a sudden I pulled away, my heart pounding frantically. No. No, this wasn�t right, this wasn�t what I wanted. I became angry with myself � had my brain been replaced by my G-Spot? Tez was a close friend, for Christ�s sake, and I could never think of him as anything more. Why did I kiss him back if I knew this? Then I became angry with Tez - he had clear understanding of my feelings for him, and yet he continued his advances. Had he not listened to a word I�d said? Or was he trying to pretend that I hadn�t said anything?
I saw disappointment on Tez�s face. He took a step back and turned his head. I�d hurt him � I felt horrible.
"I�m sorry," I said breathlessly, slowly shaking my head. "I can�t. I...I don�t think of you like that, Tez."
After a moment he looked up at me and sighed before mustering a tiny smile. "Fuck it," he said, a comment that I wasn�t expecting to hear. "You can't blame me for trying."
I nodded. "Yeah." An uncomfortable silence followed. Neither of us was sure what we were supposed to say. Nothing seemed appropriate. Finally Tez decided to change the subject, dismissing the short scene we�d just had. It was amazing how quickly he could bounce back, despite being rejected and disappointed. Besides, there wasn�t much more we could say on the topic. Our friendship was so tight that we didn�t have to say anything to know what we were thinking.
"Well, there�s another reason for me being here," he spoke up, unzipping his backpack. "I was quickly going through my old CD collection this morning while trying to clean up the house, and I found something I thought you�d be interested in."
He pulled a CD from his backpack and held it out to me. To my delight, I discovered that it was one of Paul�s CDs. Judging by his photo on the sleeve cover, it hadn�t been recorded very long ago � three or four months at the most. Turning the jewel case over, I looked at the track listing. The songs he�d performed at the park were there as well as other covers, and some of his original songs also appeared.
"Tez, you�re an absolute saint!" I exclaimed, pulling him in for an appreciative hug. I felt him tense up momentarily, remembering the kiss we�d shared just moments before, but it passed quickly, much to my relief. After rejecting him, the last thing I wanted to do was make him feel any more uncomfortable, but he seemed to be accepting it well. For now, at least, our friendship was still solid. "When do you want this back?"
"Nah, you can keep it," he replied, pulling away and re-adjusting the bag strap. "I�ve only ever listened to it once. And I know that you have a definite interest in him, so I know it�ll be going to a good home."
"Well, I certainly won�t let this gather dust. Thanks, Tez."
He nodded and smiled. There was something about the smile that I couldn�t decipher, which was a rarity because I could usually understand the meaning behind almost all of his smiles. I wasn�t sure whether I liked it. He glanced down at his watch and straightened up. "I�d better fly, I�m running late. I�ll see you later, okay?"
"Yeah, sure." I escorted him to the front door, but before he could leave I gently reached out and squeezed his upper arm. "Listen, Tez...I am sorry. It�s not that you�re not attractive, because you are, it�s just that..."
"Rich, it�s okay, honestly. I�m just too bloody persistent for my own good." He broke into another smile.
"I don�t want this to hurt the friendship, mate."
"And it won�t. Now stop worrying about me, and fire up your stereo, alright?"
He turned to leave, but briefly turned back and placed a friendly, brief kiss on my cheek. This was the Tez I knew and loved, and the gesture gave me reassurance that everything would turn out alright, that any tension would work itself out in the end. I stood silently and watched him get into his car and drive away, enjoying the sensation of the morning breeze blowing gently on my face. While the headache still remained, I was feeling just a little better.
I closed the door and walked back into the house, then finally finished making myself a Bloody Mary. I carried it into the living room and found that I was still holding Paul�s CD in my other hand. I curled myself into a corner of the couch and stared at his image on the cover, absentmindedly running my finger along the edge of the jewel case and sipping on the drink. It was very kind of him to clean up our party debris, I thought, and made a mental note to thank him when I saw him that evening. He�d only been gone for a few hours, yet I couldn�t wait to see him again. Would he be in town during the day? He�d have to do a soundcheck at the Metro before the concert, wouldn�t he?
Carrying the Bloody Mary in my hand and placing Paul�s CD on the coffee table, I walked over to the telephone, where I�d left Paul�s note. I didn't know much of what I was going to say, but I wanted to call him, even only for the sake of hearing his voice. I picked up the receiver and began to dial, but on my way to the fifth digit I froze, my finger hovering over a button. I realised the real reason that I�d pushed Tez away. It was Paul. It was all because of Paul.
Part 7