Diary of a Masochist (boyxboy)

July 6

Dear Diary,

I'm worried about Alex. I haven't seen him since his boss's party two days ago. I had woken up late last night back at our apartment, sore in our bed, but he was nowhere to be seen and Michael was asleep on the couch in the living room. Once he woke up he told me all he knew from that night, which wasn't much, but it was enough to spark my memory.

Alex is part of a big law firm, working directly with the CEO and making a comfortable amount of money so that I don't have to work. His boss is always throwing extravagant parties either in his mansion or his spacious, manicured lawn, where his big July 4th party was held. Usually Alex doesn't attend, and when he does he comes home happily drunk and then we spend the night together. For some reason, he finally invited me to come with him, so I graciously accepted. 

Alex was wearing casual dress pants a fitted paisley button-up and he allowed me to wear a collared floral shirt and skinny jeans (he was obviously in a good mood, considering he hates when I wear tight pants in public--he thinks other guys will hit on me). We confidently walked behind the house and into the obviously-well-planned. We made our way to the host, a balding middle-aged man stuffed in a suit sipping a cocktail near one of the barbecue grills, surrounded by a group of kiss-asses laughing at every thing he said. "Mr. Clinton, this is a great party!" Alex complimented as he broke through the circle and shook his hand.

"Alex, thank you for joining us! Now the party can really start!" he smiled, exposing a set of false, white teeth. The surrounding group nervously agreed with him and laughed in unison. "You mind refreshing my drink while I acquaint myself with your friend here?" he asked, handing his near-empty glass in Alex's direction. He grabbed it and shot me a "good luck" glance before heading across the lawn to the outdoor bar. "So what's your name, young man?" Mr. Clinton asked, hand extended, as his subordinates started wandering away to other conversations.

I reached out my hand to shake his, smiling. "I'm Brett, but I'm sure you've heard all about me," I replied.

"I'm afraid I haven't, in fact. But don't feel bad, Alex doesn't tell us anything. Nobody even knows if he even has a family or a girlfriend or anything," he chuckled.

"Oh, uh, he doesn't... Have a girlfriend, that is..." I wasn't sure if he was playing with me or not, because I was certain that Alex had told his colleagues about me. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Mr. Clinton let out a relieved sigh. "That's surprising, but good news. I have a niece that I think he would really love."

"Wait... you're not joking? I'm Alex's boyfriend. He really hasn't told the office we're together?" I asked, befuddled.

The man took a step back and his oily nose wrinkled up. "Alex is... gay?"

"Brett." I turned around to see Alex standing there, holding two drinks and a bewildered expression on his face. "What did you-"

"You're gay?" Mr. Clinton demanded. 

"Uh, n-no, Brett, er, I-I'm not-" Alex stammered, clutching the drinks tighter. His boss dismissed him a swift wave of his and strode off to other powerful-looking men. I watched until the man was across the lawn before turning back to Alex. His eyes flashed and he gnawed on his cheek before giving a pained smile, "Brett, do you mind coming inside to get more ice for the drinks?"

There was no escaping what was going to come. Instead of even trying to hold my ground, I sheepishly nodded my head and held my hand out so that he could lead me, but he scowled before turning on his heels and starting for the house.

I gently closed the solid oak door behind me and turned around to reason with him. "Alex, please, I didn't kno-"

"Can anyone in here help me find the ice? Is there anyone in here?" he called out, wandering around the elegant living room and combined kitchen. Nobody responded. Nobody was in the house. "Lock it," he pointed to the door that my back was pressed against.

"Please, Alex, let's just talk about thi-"

"I said lock the door."

I choked back tears as I pleaded with him, "No, Lex, just-"

"Do I have to do everything around here? Are you really that incompetent?" he mocked as he stormed to the door and shoved me out of the way to twist the lock. "Do you honestly not fucking comprehend how to be a normal human being?!" I felt a sharp sting and my head whipped to the side as he sharply slapped me across the face.

Using both hands, I shoved him as hard as I could and scattered into the living room to put one of the couches between us. "How the hell was I supposed to know?! You never told me! Why in the world would you bring your boyfriend to meet your boss when you're not even out?!" I begged. 

He pitched a cocktail glass at my head, but I ducked in time for it to shatter against the stone fireplace behind me. "I didn't think you were stupid enough to think otherwise!" Alex shouted as he grabbed another off the kitchen bar counter. "This is just like high school!" A glass shattered at my feet and I felt shards cut into my ankles.

I grabbed a pillow off the couch and used it to block another glass that came flying at my head. "Are you kidding me?! Let it go, that was eight years ago! You should've told me nobody knew, this is your fault!" I hurled the pillow at him as he came around the couch and grabbed me by the collar before I could run.

"Did you just say this was my fault??" Alex threw a jab underneath my jaw and held me tighter. "You fucking dare to say," he growled as he hit me again, square in the mouth, "that this is my fault?" He threw me backgrounds, tripping me on the edge of the glass coffee-table and making me fall on the side of it, shattering it completely. I considered using one of the shards that were digging into my back as defense, but figured it was worthless to try to physically stop my boyfriend.

"I-I'm sorry, Alex. Let's go home, please," I begged, wincing as his foot slammed into my abdomen and then into my head. He leaped on top of me, throwing punches at every chance. "Alex, please." He pulled my head up by my hair before slamming it back onto the hardwood flooring. Black spots filled my vision and I felt vomit in the back of my throat. "Come on, Lex. Please," I was able to reach a cut-up hand up to wipe blood off my mouth while he stood up before I felt another kick in my side. Then another. Then another. "L-Lex," I whimpered as I struggled to stay conscious. Another kick.

The last thing I remember is faintly hearing Alex pacing next to me, urgently talking on the phone. "Michael, help... I really screwed up this time... Fuck, Brett..." I wasn't able to hear all of it, but I remember feeling his lips graze mine as he whispered a brief sorry before I slipped into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, Michael told me that Alex had given him the address, and once he arrived, he told him to take me back to the apartment and then he left. I had asked Michael if Alex had given any indication to where he was going, but he said he hadn't. I've left at least fifty texts and ten voice-mails on his phone, but he has yet to respond. Alex and I haven't been apart for this long in forever; I feel numb without his presence, the pain throughout my body is hardly even noticeable. I wish I could thank Michael for taking care of the glass cuts and the dark bruises, but I don't want to get too involved with him before asking Alex first. I just hope he's okay, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if he ever got hurt.

Brett