Declan Hankinston is on a mission to find a new prom date amidst the pain of his first heartbreak. Encouraged by his cousin Aubrey, he ventures into the world of gay online dating and signs up for Grindr to seek a companion. Little does he know, Aub...
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I stifle through the piles of clothing, assuming John's undiscovered fashion style. I glance two racks over at John, who looks overwhelmed and terrified all at once. He doesn't know what to wear or where to start. No matter how often I pull up pictures for inspiration or tell him to google some looks, he refuses to because he claims his fit is different from other men.
"I'm heftier than that guy!" "That colour won't look good on me!" "Stop showing me these model men."
He keeps overthinking it and putting himself down. "Here!" I shout at him. He jumps at the sound of my voice. "This one should fit you," I say, holding up a plain black blazer in size 36. Leave it to H&M to have the most basic-styled formal clothing for super cheap. It was either here or F21. But F21 always looks like a tornado hit them. It would overwhelm John even more.
I don't want to hear any more of his negative comments. The whole car ride here, he was huffing, puffing and bringing my mood down. He kept asking me stupid questions like,
"Is there going to be someone there to measure my chest?" "Am I going to have to get it fitted? I am, aren't I?"
I had to yell at him numerous times and tell him it was not serious. And explain to him that the fashion world is different nowadays and retail now runs on the fast fashion trends.
It was like baking with a toddler: I had to be gentle and affirming. It was fucking annoying.
"You think it will look good with the white button-down I have already?" He's furrowing his brows, and worry sweeps his face, which accents his brooding voice.
"Yeah! It's just a basic white button-down, right?"
John nods and stares blankly at the blazer, probably trying to visualise how it will look on him.
"Buttons on the collar to hold it down?"
"No?" He questions both himself and me. A dubious man, for sure. "Uh. Wait! Yes! I don't know if I've ever unbuttoned the collars, but they do have them." He exclaims.
He obsessively turns and makes faces at the mirror while holding up the blazer to his neck. "I have to try it on. Do you mind?"
He's so cute when he's unsure. But sometimes it gets to a point where his uncertainty is unattractive. He's insecure, cares about what people think of him, and always wants to look his best. I'm constantly having to hype him up and tell him how handsome he is, how masculine and perfect he is.
I think maybe growing up poor has that effect on him. He does well in school because he wants to get into a good college and be better than his Mom. It feels like I've known him forever, but I've only known him for a year.
He's been nothing but hyper-focused on getting out of his house alive. His Mom's boyfriend of two years has supposedly wreaked havoc on his life, especially his Mom. He won't go into much detail as to what exactly goes on in his household, but it's bad enough that he barely stays there. He's always at Ben's instead.
"Aubrey?" John shouts from behind the fitting room door.
"Right out here." I stand up and step closer to his fitting room door. When it opens, his face is shimmering with joy. He twirls but in a manly way. "Dashing enough?" He smiles at me, all cocky, and then admires himself in the mirror again.
"Woah," I stare at him intently, thinking up all the ways his stature is going to play in our favour. "You are going to kill it!" I squeal.
Reaching into my purse, I pull the masquerade mask out and hand it to John to try on.
"Where did you get this?" He asks, gently grabbing hold of the mask.
"I stopped by party city before picking you up. Try it on! Try it on!" I gesture to him to face the mirror.
Stretching the elastic band, John pulls the mask over his head, covering his forehead and the surrounding area of his eyes. He looks at himself in the mirror again, studying the entirety of the look. "You don't think it looks too cheesy?"
"That's the point of masquerades. They're always cheesy." I try to convince him, but it barely comes out assuredly.
"I thought they're meant to be classy." John deadpans.
"John, I promise you, you look fine. Like a Salvatore brother! Declan is going to freak out when he sees you in this!" I clench my fists in excitement and alternate feet while jumping on my tippy toes.
"Well, not you. Matt, of course, but damn! You look so fucking good! I could cry." I tilt my head and smile at him cunningly.
"Why am I doing this again?" John rips the mask off his face, revealing angry facial lines and glaringly stormy eyes. "This is sick, Aubs. You said we're supposed to be 'helping Declan get over James', not playing mind games with him. You're taking this a little too far, messaging him? Fine. Me pretending to be Matt in person? Fucking psychotic! I'm not psychotic Aubs! I don't even know what the point of this is. How do you think he will feel when this is all done and over with?"
Hopefully just as shattered as I feel.
"It won't get to that point, and he'll never find out."
"How can you even know that? This is a disaster waiting to happen. I don't know if I can go through with it."
He wiggles out of the blazer, throws it on the ground, plants the mask against my chest, and shoves past me. "Where are you going?" I yell.
"Anywhere but here. Figure out your shit Aubs. This.... whatever this fucking is." He waves his hands in front of me and the fitting room. "This isn't happening. I'm out."
My feet pick up before I can even think of running, and I'm chasing after him, bulldozing through the crowds in the mall. Post-Covid, and everyone acts like the mall is the internet. Everyone is here, dillydallying and loitering around like they don't have anywhere else to be. "John!" I pant and hunch over, using my knees to hold me up while I catch my breath. "Can you slow down?" I pant.
I know he hears me, but he's still weaving through people, going only god knows where. I'm his ride.. I don't know where the fuck he thinks he's going.
"Where are you going!" I scream. People walking toward me are wide-eyeing me and looking behind them to see who I'm yelling at, and others turn around just to be nosey. They all smile and giggle like they're watching their favourite Netflix series. John is no longer in plain sight.
