“Tell me how you’re feeling, Oliver. Behind that door is someone who could potentially change the entire course of your life. Someone who could give you what your life has been missing.”
It was funny how they all spoke here, like they were making subtle promises using neutral words. Promising nothing when the words clearly wanted to give me hope. It felt weird and, I had to admit, unnatural. I was expected to just play along and let things happen. React as I would in real life, when it was glaringly obvious that all this wasn’t real.
A show. A theatre production of sorts. An amateur one perhaps, because I had no idea how I was supposed to stand, let alone act. I’d been tucked into a suit, my bow-tie too tight around my neck. A selection of cheap jewellery making my wrist itch. My expensive watch tucked away in my bag, since unauthorised branded items were a no-go. I scratched the patch of bare skin my watch had left behind, not used to not having the heavy weight on my arm. My hands were shaking anyway. My heart beating irregularly. I felt nauseous, sweating profusely under all the clothes I was wearing, but that was fairly normal for me coming down from another stupid sesh on the snow. Not smart. Not clever.
Wrong. Everything felt wrong and weird.
“Any second now, Oliver. What are you thinking? Will this be the one who ends up being the love of your life?”
My throat was too dry to function. Was this the one? The one what? What kind of question was that? Did I have a choice here?
And just like that, the door handle pushed downwards, a subtle click of a lock as I froze.
Through that door walked a man.
Wrong word. A granddad. A silver-haired old guy. Someone’s dad. A…shit. Shit.
Not only that, the guywas staring at me, with something I could only describe as wild panic in his eyes. His face twisted into a grimace of…disgust.
“Who’s this?” he barked, looking around the room in confusion. “Where is she?”
Silence. He looked at the producer dude. The cameraman. Back at the producer. Then at me.
“Is this a joke?” he said sternly, a slight wobble in his voice. “There has obviously been some mistake; I am here to meet a woman.”
“For fuck’s sake!” shot out of my mouth. “What the actual?”
Nobody said a word. Silence.
“He’s not even an adult!” Granddad barked. “What’s going on here?”
No shit, Granddad. Mr Straight-bloke-of-the-century. Bad haircut, bad clothes, oozing homophobic panic and staring at me with all that revulsion as I just stood there. Trembling.
Fuck. Fuck. Not now. Not here, not now. This was when I did…exactly what?
“I’m a fucking grown-up!” came out of me.
“Is this a joke?” he snarled, turning on his heel. Staring at the production staff in disgust. “Because if it is? It’s absolutely inappropriate. Insensitive.”
More silence. Enough silence that I could hear it through the beating in my chest. Deafening.
“Answer me, goddammit!” Shouting. I couldn’t bear shouting. Arguing, yelling, the swearwords and the profanities. The…
“Peter, calm down. This is Oliver, your partner for this project…”
“He’s a man!” Granddad screeched, as I fell to my haunches. Floor. My head spinning. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I couldn’t hear the response. Not that I wantedto hear it.
“If this is your idea of fun, then I…” I didn’t know what I was trying to say. Dry-swallowing words that were failing to come out of my mouth.
“Fun?” Granddad said sternly. “Is this supposed to be some kind of meet-cute? Was that not what was in the contract?”
His sarcasm was on point, and… “You’re old enough to be my granddad,” I coughed out. Sat on the floor. Head between my knees. Then I tried to look up, but my head was swimming. “Old…” I continued, a drop of spit falling from my mouth. I could see it on the floor, briefly.
“I’m not that old…”
For a second, I thought he was smiling. Then I had to drop my head again.
