sparklers* 

I was in the middle of the movie “The Duellists” when I received a text message, which came after 2 missed calls.

The number belongs to Gorgeous.

“Oi, watcha doin not picking my calls? Call me back pretty quick!” read the message.

“Am bored 2tears with England film. But got Harvey Keitel. With braids. And tight tights. Haa. Whatzup?” I texted back.

“Right. Your Monday usuals. Me 4got. M goin bak to Oz tmrw. Wanna c u. Tonight. Call me when done. Muaks.”

“Where u? Can skip movie. Boring like shit. Better leave b4 I zzz.”

“Goody! 10 minutes. Usual place. Last one to reach is an oddball and hafta pay.”

Gorgeous is my so-called “last good man” – my precious platonic relationship with a so-called perfect man. I love him so. I really do. And I would do anything (almost) for him. But as I said before, though he is super gorgeous, hence the name, I have never lusted over him. Since he took up acting and got a bit of fame, we’ve not seen each other for a while now. Six months to be exact.

Our “usual place” is none other than McDonald’s Pusat Bandar Damansara. And our fave is the sundae cone. Yum.

He was already waiting for me when I reached. Both hands occupied with the sundaes.

“I feel charitable tonight,” he winked as he handed over a cone my way. I took it with glee. Sundaes always tasted better than Haagen Daas with him around.

I bought the second round.

The catching up was intense and as it was late, we decided to continue at my place. I must, after all, introduce Smokey to him.

“Whoa…you’re right! He is handsome!”

“But of course, I keep the same standard in all male specimen, y’know,” and felt like a proud mother showing off her baby.

Then I made us one big mug of hot Milo. We both share this weird habit of a compulsory Milo drink before bed.

And we continued our talk in my room. Didn’t want my housemate to know I brought a hunk home. After she jealous. Heh.

Updates - Gorgeous has since broken up with Hannah and 2 more slinky bimbos after that. So he’s currently available. I told him about work and work gossips, Jess, P’s wedding, Kinabalu, all the weirdos I’ve met, many Smokey stories and my upcoming Indian trip.

“Oh, happy belated birthday, babe! I heard J sang you a birthday song, Marilyn style some more.”

“Hah, he told you, izzit? Yes, that was quite wonderful actually.”

“Thought you don’t like birthday songs!” only he knows me too well.

“I still don’t. But it’s not every day you get a beefcake crooning you a birthday song,” I defended.

“Anyway, here’s my present,” and gave me a long hard kiss.

Wait a minute…

That felt weird.

I felt weird.

“How? Like or not?,” he asked.

Silence.

“C’mon! I can’t be that bad, right? Why, got bad breath, is it?” He puffed into his cupped hand and smelled it. “Okay, what!”

“Hmm. It’s smooth. And sweet tasting. Like sundae. But honestly, no sparks.”

“No shit!” he seemed appalled.

Long pause.

“Me too. Guess we should never cross the line, eh?” he chuckled.

“I guess not.” And I chuckled back.

We chatted on the bed till 5ish, with Smokey sleeping on my right.

Before I dozed, I felt a warm peck on my forehead followed by a soft “Nite, babe. Love you lots.”

And I felt like a million dollars.
October 18, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 11:00 am
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