Future Queens of England (30 page)

Marc scowled at Keenan, “Who are you?  My Mother?” he said before stomping off.

“That gobshite has got some serious issues,” Keenan grumbled.  “He's a total wanker.”

Gareth stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles, “Well, I don't know about you, but I'm off for a dance.  Who's coming?”  Giles and Keenan stood up to join Gareth.  “What about you two?” Gareth said to Hugh and Bruce.

Bruce paused whilst he waited for Hugh to answer.

“Nah, I'm alright here.  I'll keep our seats safe,” Hugh said.

“Me too,” Bruce quickly added.

Gareth nodded and wandered towards the dance floor followed by Keenan and Giles. 

Bruce moved across from his chair and sidled up to Hugh, “I can't hear you very well from all the way over there,” Bruce lied.  “So I'd better get a little closer.”

Hugh shuffled nervously in his chair and fumbled with his hands as he leant on the table.

“So Hugh,” Bruce said softly, “what shall we talk about?”

Hugh coughed to buy himself a few seconds, “Errr, tell me something about yourself that I don't know.”

The familiar glint shone in Bruce's eye, “I invented the word ‘milf’.  I bet you didn't know that.”  He smirked and rested his arm on the seat behind Hugh. 

Hugh looked alarmed, but tried not to show it, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Bruce said getting uncomfortably closer by the second, “but it was high-jacked and they changed the meaning of the word.  Originally the M stood for Man.”  He sighed, “I really should have had a copyright put on it.”

“Is that actually true?” Hugh asked, not sure whether this was possible.

“Enough about me Hugh,” Bruce said quickly with a wave of his hand.  “Now tell me something about you that I don't know.”

Hugh thought for a moment about something that he would actually be willing to share with Bruce.    “My parents struggle to accept what I am,” he said slowly.

Bruce pulled his most sympathetic face, “I feel your pain brother,” he said solemnly.  He took both of Hugh's hands in his.  “Tell me more,” Bruce said.

Hugh looked down at the table at Bruce's hands on top of his.  Neither of them spoke for a moment whilst Hugh tried to slide his hands out of Bruce's clammy grasp.  But Bruce just tightened his grip and smiled through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I am about to sneeze,” Hugh exclaimed and he tipped his head back to prepare himself.  Bruce instinctively released Hugh's hands as Hugh brought them up to cover his face.  Bruce looked on expectantly but nothing came.  “It's no good, it's gone,” Hugh lied and quickly slid his hands under his thighs and sat firmly on them.

Rather dejectedly Bruce continued the conversation, “Why don't your parents understand you then Hugh?  Is it because of your sexuality?”

Hugh laughed, “No.  They're both gay?” he said laughing at this preposterous thought.

Bruce scratched his head as he tried to make some sense of this.  Finally he spoke, “Your parents are gay?  So your Mum is a lesbian and your Dad is a homosexual?”  He pulled a strange face at Hugh.  “That doesn't sound like a marriage that is going to last Hugh, if you don't mind me saying so.  How on earth did they get together?”

Hugh laughed even louder, “I'll have to tell them about this, they'd laugh their socks off.”  Bruce started to become irritated and wanted to be let in on the big joke.  “Sorry Bruce, let me explain.  They're both men, I'm adopted.  I didn't know my real parents.”

“Oh I see,” Bruce said as the penny finally dropped, that makes a lot more sense.  But why don't they understand you?  You'd have thought that they more than anyone would understand your situation.”

“They can't see why I came to the school, they think that I am wasting a year.  But I need to learn panache, style, how to present myself.  If you get my meaning,” Hugh explained.

“Oh come here you poor thing,” Bruce said lunging over at Hugh and squeezing him tightly.  “I understand you dear, let me give you a hug.”  He clutched Hugh tightly and rocked him ever so slightly back and forth.  “There!  Doesn't that feel nice?” Bruce soothed and Hugh writhed uncomfortably in his embrace.

Meanwhile Tony and Uwe returned to the table and stood for a moment watching this clinch. 

“Put him down Bruce,” Tony said as he placed the drinks on the table.  “I've not come here tonight to watch that sort of behaviour, it's enough to turn a man's stomach.”

Bruce reluctantly released Hugh and scowled at Tony, “Good timing guys,” he said sarcastically.

“Thank you Tony,” Hugh whispered.

“No problem, here have a drink,” he said handing him a glass.

Hugh reached out, his hand shaking slightly and took it.  He brought it to his lips and drank gently from it and he let the liquid warm his throat.

“So, what did I miss then?” Uwe asked.

“I was just telling Bruce how I want to be someone.  How I want to be famous.  That's why I am here, to develop my persona and learn how to project myself,” he explained.

“And how is that working out for you?” Uwe sneered slightly as he lifted his glass.

“To be honest, it is taking forever.  I've been going to auditions and applying for places on reality TV shows.  I thought someone would just snap me up.  I didn't think it would be this hard or take as long as this,” he moaned as he shook his head in disbelief.

“The longer a man's fame is likely to last, the longer it will be in coming,” Uwe said almost kindly.

Hugh's face brightened, “Oh, I like that Uwe.  I'll have to write that down and remember it.  Thanks.”

Uwe's nostrils flared but he said nothing. 

Suddenly there was a scuffle at the far end of the room and the commotion caught their attention.

“Hey, it looks like it's all kicking off here tonight then,” Tony said with obvious excitement.  “I didn't think shit like this would go down at the gay bar.”  They looked over to see the action and saw what looked like Marc and three other men rolling about on the floor together.  “Oh, I hope that isn't what I think it is?” Tony complained, “dirty bastards.”

They watched for a moment before Hugh spoke, “I don't think it is Tony.  It looks like Marc is in trouble.  Will you go and help him?”

“Why me?” Tony asked.

“Well I can hardly go can I, they're not going to listen to me,” Hugh reasoned.

“
Wichser
!” Uwe muttered as he raised his eyebrows in despair.  He pushed his chair back dramatically and strode over to the kerfuffle.  He reached down and grabbed the top of Marc's shirt and dragged him out of the scrum.  He pulled Marc to his feet and steadied him as he wobbled giddily. 

The three other men got to their feet and confronted Uwe, “What's this got to do with you?”

Uwe raised himself up and stared boldly into their eyes, “Whether I like it or not this man is here with me tonight, therefore I have some responsibility for his welfare.”

“But he was stealing drinks from our table,” one of the men complained.

“That is no concern of mine,” Uwe glowered back at them.

Then without warning one of the men threw a punch at Uwe, his fist came towards Uwe's face but before it made contact another arm reached out and intercepted it.  Tony gripped the attacker's arm.

“Now I don't think you wanted to do that, did you,” Tony growled as he squeezed the man's forearm, his knuckles whitening.  His attacker pulled his arm free and rubbed it where the imprint of Tony's fingers were.  “Right, so how about we buy you a round of drinks and we say no more,” Tony offered, “the alternative will be far less appealing to you.”  Reluctantly the three men agreed, “Hugh!  Go and find Gareth and borrow some money,” Tony bellowed without turning his back on the three men.  Hugh got up from his seat and scampered off to find Gareth.  Uwe returned Marc to where they were sitting.  He pushed Marc forcefully into one of the chairs.  He slumped onto one of the seats and stared belligerently back at Uwe.

“I could have handled that Uwe,” Marc slurred as he reached out and picked up a drink of the table.

Uwe leant over and snatched the drink from Marc's hand, “I think you've had enough.”

Hugh returned to the table with Gareth, Keenan and Giles before running back over to Tony with some cash.  They sat down together and all glared at Marc.  He sat there a crumpled mess in front of them. 

After a few minutes calming Marc’s attackers Hugh and Tony wandered back to the table and took their places.

“So,” Uwe began, “you were stealing drinks from other people’s tables?”  He stopped and waited for Marc to respond.

Marc sat himself up and used the table for support.  “I wasn't actually stealing, more like skimming.  I was just having a small sip from any of the glasses that were left lying around.”

Hugh leant forward, “Marc, I think you have a problem.  We need to talk about this.”

Defensively Marc pointed his finger across the table at Hugh, “There's nothing wrong with a little drink now and then.”

“But it's not now and then is it Marc?  It's every single bloody night,” Hugh said firmly.  “I mean we've only been here for about forty minutes and you're already completely blotto.”

Marc flopped back into his seat, “So I like a drink.  Sue me.”

“I think that there is more to it than that Marc.  Seriously, I have never seen anything like it.  There must be a reason that you are doing this.  What are you trying to escape from?” Hugh probed.

Marc let his head hang low but didn't speak.

“You need to face this Marc, it can only end badly,” Hugh said softly. 

Gareth put his hand onto Marc's back, “You have a problem mate.  You need to face it.  Perhaps we can help.”

The others made various noises agreeing with Gareth.

Marc nodded, “I know, I know.  But it's hard to talk about.”

Hugh spoke up again, “Just try Marc, you'll feel a lot better once you've got it off your chest.”

“It's my parents,” Marc said, “I have been keeping a big secret from them.  I've not told them that I am gay.”

“Okay, well done Marc.  Now we are getting somewhere,” Gareth said as he patted him on the back. 

Marc sucked in a deep breath and continued, “The drinking helps me cope, I am so ashamed of what I am, or at least I am ashamed of what they will think of me if they find out.”

“There is a time when we all have to be brave Marc and make that announcement.  You have to be true to yourself,” Hugh said.  “No one knows this more than I do.”

“But it's not as simple as that.  They are deeply religious and it is completely against their beliefs,” Marc explained solemnly.

“Religion is the masterpiece of the art of animal training, for it trains people as to how they shall think,” Uwe added.

“But that's the problem.  They have never needed to think for themselves, they just accepted what religion taught them,” Marc wailed as he fought back tears.  “They'll choose their faith over me, I know they will.”

“Ah, but religion is like the pick 'n' mix sweet shop.  No one ever follows it to the letter.  Everyone just picks the parts that suit them and then disregards the rest,” Hugh spouted in an evangelical manner.  “These people are your parents, once you come clean to them they will simply drop that part of their belief system.  I mean what sort of monster would choose something that they read in a book over the love for their own child.  I mean seriously, that would be unforgivable and unthinkable!”

Marc looked up hopefully at Hugh, “Maybe you're right Hugh.  Perhaps I do need to tell them.”

Hugh nodded, “Look Marc, my advice is just to come clean.  If they love you they will accept you for what you are.”

He wiped his eyes, “You're right.  Thank you!  I really mean that.  I think I am going to go back to the school now to grab my overnight bag and then take a few days off to visit my parents.”

“Crikey, you don't mess around do you Marc,” Gareth said. 

“I'll come back to the room with you Marc, just to make sure you get back okay,” Giles offered.

With that Marc and Giles got up and made their way out of the club.

“Wow that was intense,” Tony said with a clap of his hands trying to lighten the mood.  “Now that's Marc's problem dealt with, how about the problem of old Tony and his lack of female companionship?”