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Damn Andy was so hot. Ever since the moment that I first laid eyes on him I knew I had to have him. The problem is, I’m scrawny as fuck and he wouldn’t give me the time of day.
After years of being told ‘no’ I finally decided this one time, it would be ‘yes’; whether he liked it or not.
Any resemblance to actual living persons is purely coincidental… almost.
Sean and I had been communicating for a while via e-mail and through the blog on which we both posted stories. We both joked around with each other, often sparring good naturedly through our mails and sometimes even our stories. I never knew what he actually looked like though and didn’t know much about him personally. Then one day the strangest thing happened.
I was browsing my e-mail when I received a new one from Sean. The title was quite simple: “Read This”. I never knew Sean to title an e-mail in such a fashion so I was rather intrigued. I opened the e-mail to find out what he had to say this time.
“Read This One Out Loud.” It started. The next words sure looked like gibberish but as I started to read them as instructed they started to glow into strange shapes, sigils as Sean called them. The next thing I knew I was being pulled out of my body and flying (yes, flying!) to somewhere as yet unknown. In an instant I found myself in a strange room seeing the back of someone typing at a computer.
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I was reading a story late one night on this “Male Transformation” blog that I had been checking out. As I sat there engrossed, I heard the roar of a motorcycle outside. This was normally a pretty quiet neighborhood and bikes were rarely heard here, especially not at midnight, so I went to my window to peer out below.
An eerie light surrounded a lone figure astride a very cool looking machine parked at the curb. The rest of the street was in total darkness just like someone had shone a very bright spotlight in this one place. As my eyes became adjusted to the light I could make out the man. As cool as the bike was, the man was equally as hot dressed in a leather jacket and jeans. He dismounted and started walking towards my front door. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my doorbell rang breaking the silence of the night. Now why would someone like that be coming to my door at this unholy hour?
Josh had been having a rather troublesome day, but this was nothing unusual for him. It never was when you were dating a trickster. The funny thing about Tricksters, is that they can be anywhere, anyone, anytime. In old legend, it is said that if something is too good to be true, walk away. Only now was Josh seeing the wisdom in it.
Josh had always dreamed of being big and strong, much like his 3 older brothers. However, fate had not given him their muscles, or their jock-like confidence. Instead, fate had given him Adam.
Normally Josh would try and hit the gym at late hours of the night. He didn't like being judged by the muscleheads that lurked the machines. Tonight though, there was only one lone trainer. He had dark shaggy hair that was swept to the right. He wore a pair of black work out shorts, but wore no shirt to cover his washboard abs. Josh could already see he was heavily into his workout, seeing his muscles swelling.
His name was Adam. He was kind, polite, and far from anything Josh would have expected. He wasn't typical by any means. He spoke like a gentleman, but looked like a stud. His voice was kind, and yet his intent came through as interested and invested in Josh. After trying to deny Adam's actions, Josh was swept of his feet.
Josh fell quickly, spending every moment with Adam. They worked out together, but also spent time together at home, alone. Josh thought everything was going so perfectly, but there is always a catch. Eventually, Adam revealed his identity, a trickster.
Josh learned that Adam could change his appearance to fit his means. Currently, he was lonely, though he would never say why. After a shocking show of Adam morphing from one man into another, Josh lost himself. He ran away from Adam's apartment with the intent of never returning. He was not going to submit himself to madness.
But Adam followed Josh.
I knew I was dying but it wasn’t my time I wasn’t ready. The words on my partners lips as she held my head as I slowly and painfully slipped away from physical presence as we know it.
“You can’t go.” she screeched as she sobbed into my chest “its not time, I’m not ready to let you go.”
I was a police man, with great prospects and career opportunities. At only 21 I had an amazing life ahead of me. I was with an amazing girl, we had just got our first place together, we had a baby on the way and were planning to get married in two weeks. Everything I had planned was working out to be true. That was until this sad day when I was shot by a crazed bank robber. He decided it was my time even though I had so much ahead of me. That wasn’t fair and I couldn’t let it happen. It wasn’t my time. But he shot me any way. It was a painful experience and the gun shot hit an important artery to my heart, I had minutes, not hours, there was no time to get me to hospital. I died in the bank where my fiancé worked, in her arms
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Pumping bass, screaming girls, and lots of good ole booze: sounds like a normal day out here in New Orleans, huh? Well, unfortunately, the girls are far from being ‘of age,’ and the only ones drinking the booze would be their unfortunate parents with a severe case of buyer’s remorse. What am I talking about? It’s a Justin Bieber concert. You may wonder why a guy like me would be at a J. Biebs concert, and honestly, I’m wondering the same thing. You see, I go to Tulane University for journalism, and I have a job as a writer for the Tulane Hullabaloo, the school newspaper. My editor, Jennifer, assigned me this article, and here I am. A backpage variety article about a bratty teen star.
By the time I left campus, I was around three hours early. Apparently, not early enough, as there were no parking spaces anywhere at the Superdome. I parked a block away. I had my trusty film-guzzling camera, and a notepad & pen in a small satchel I had from home. When I left Minneapolis, my parents effectively disowned me for leaving the state, so we don’t talk much. The drawstring backpack is all I have left of my past, other than discomforting memories. I walk past the security gate, flash my press badge, and saunter over to my seat. Pre-pubescent girls wander aimlessly around the stadium, dazed and only wanting Justin to come out on stage. I was writing down some of my thoughts when a big black guy about my age came to my seat.
“You with the Hullabaloo?” he asked. His muscular arms were inked all the way to his shoulders, which were left uncovered by his sleeveless sweatshirt. He had an off-white snapback that sat just above his brow, covering his shaved head. He reeked of Old Spice and sweat, as his face and hands glistened with tiny drops of both.
“Yeah, I’m Jake Brackensick. You must be De’Andre?” He smiled a pristine white grin and replied, “The very same, bruthah. Listen, your boss called. She got’chu a backstage pass. You can interview Justin after the show. I’ll come and get you, jus’ wait here afterwards.” Surprised that Jenn could get me something like a backstage pass, I just nodded like an idiot. De’Andre smiled, and walked off.
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“Jeremy, remember to be home by the time I get back from work.”
“Ah gee Mom. I’ll remember.” Jeremy had all he could do to contain himself. His neighbor Sam was taking him someplace special today.
“All right, honey. Have a good time.” Jeremy’s mom knew he looked forward to spending time with Sam. Jeremy had never had a dad in his life, which meant he really needed someone he could look up to and have as a father figure. Sam, at twenty six, fit the bill nicely. He was reliable and would look after her son while she worked to support the family.
Jeremy was already out the door and racing towards Sam’s place. He didn’t fit in with his high school freshmen peers and was somewhat of a loner, isolated because he was the class runt.
“So you really want to be like me, Jeremy?” Sam always greeted the boy this way since the day he had blurted out his secret fantasy to be like Sam. He was quite the stud, standing at 6’1 and very well built, the epitome of everything Jeremy ever wanted to be. He was flattered Jeremy thought so much of him.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Adams I sure do. I wish I could be big and strong like you.” Jeremy idolized Sam. He could talk with Sam about anything and he wouldn’t treat him like some little kid who didn’t know anything. Besides, Sam looked so cool on his motorcycle.
“Follow me.” Sam led Jeremy to the kitchen, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
