Breaking Them Up (BoyxBoy) (On Hold Forever)

Breaking Them Up :::10::::

“You’ll help me?”

Shit.

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When you’re and dude and get used to the drafty feeling of a dress, you know something in your life is terribly wrong. When your friend takes you to the wedding as his date and girlfriend ‘Karen’ but won’t explain why, something is wrong. What was I doing wrong?

If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Damien, before we get out of this limo and officially arrive, I want you to repeat what we’ve gone over” Kyle seemed to be implying that I was a) stupid and b) paying attention when he’d gone on and on endlessly about how to behave. I adjust my wig with a sigh.

“Don’t talk to anyone unless I have to, try to stick around you, introduce myself as your girlfriend Karen” those are the only three I really deemed important enough to note, and Kyle nodded in approval. “Am I allowed to eat?” I ask critically.

“If there food around, sure, eat all you want” then he opens the door and we step out.

Weddings were boring. But there was nothing more boring then someone elses family wedding-especially when you were to young to get drunk. I was left on an uncomfortable church bench next to Kyle who respectfully looked straight ahead and listen to a dull religious ceremony.

After that we all got into cars again and lugged ourselves to the grooms parents house for the after party. All the while, Kyle was talking to this man or that woman or this cousin or that grandparent and so on and so on. I was beginning to die of utter bored, when I noticed a woman with a plate holding the most delicious looking choclate cake I have ever seen.

That’s when I noticed everyone, myself and Kyle not included, had some. “Kyle” I tug on his sleeve like a little kid trying to get his mothers attention.

He simply gives me a quick peck on the cheek and a ‘not now babe’. Pft, some fake boyfriend he was. I could do way better-maybe a real boyfriend? Or one who preferably didn’t make me wear dresses and blonde wigs?

Do you know what? I didn’t really need his permission anyways. He wouldn’t notice if I slipped away for a quick second-he was preoccupied yet again, talking to old men who showed no interest into me other then to pinch my ass-which had happened rather frequently. It was like instant karma though-the gross old perverts didn’t realize they were harassing a very pretty boy.

Wandering away as discreetly as possible, I make my way to the house. Why? Because that’s where people are continuously steaming out, delicious ckae in their hands. It’s a good conclusion to jump to that I’d find the mouth watering chocolate inside.

I walk through the propped open door to find more slightly tipsy wedding goers. I ask one at random where the food was and they point me down a hallway. I happily head that way, knowing my venture was taking me closer and closer to the cake. “Hey, are you Karen?”

It takes me a moment to realize that right now I am Karen. I stop walking and turn back, the motion making my dress twirl up a little. Damn things, caught in the air like kites. I stare at a handsome looking guy, who appears to be a few years older then me. He gives me a friendly smile. “So you are?”

I pop my lips, trying to conjure up my ‘girl voice’ which hadn’t been used to frequently. “Yep. Looking for Kyle? He’s-”

“No no” Mr. Friendly coem up and drapes an arm over me like we were old friends, steering me off in a random direction “I was actually hoping to meet you. My brother’s Frank, the one getting married? Do you remember him? you met once” I nod, even though I don’t know that Karen had met Frank. “Well, he told me a lot” his smile broadens “about you. I was eager for the opportunity to meet”