Played like a Phonograph

Chapter 1

The neon lights of the 'Stairway to Heaven' sign flashed in my eyes and I curiously climbed up the staircase, as I recognized two of my class mates coming down the stairs, drinking fruit punch labeled 'Beer'. I wondered how much more apparent they could make their desperate desire to drink legally, without having to fake-cringe their brows, pretending how bitter their 'Beer' was.

I reached the upper floor of the house which had at least four identical rooms in rows. I stopped to peer into one of the rooms and a random guy who seemed to be at least 6"3 walked out. He was naked, except for a pair of bright pink boxers to cover his lower his abdominal region. There was no one in the room and a dim red light exclusive of strip clubs' valentine's day edition rooms was the only light glowing in there. He motioned me towards him with one hand and that helplessly attention-taking, eye-locking gaze, so I hesitantly walked closer to him.

" Wha'z wrong hon?" Are you uncomfortable with this or something?" The guy said, sliding his hands down below his waist till it touched his bright pink boxers, in the most gay-est manner ever.

" Um...no, uhhh...." I kept stuttering and swallowing. I already started to regret having gone upstairs and knew that something extremely regretful was about to happen. If I could just shut my eyes, run downstairs and hide among the crowd of the party. But my eyes were just not willing to move on from staring down at his smooth, well-kept six pack. They were like the most beautiful and welcoming things I had ever seen. Until the next moment they were the total opposite of welcoming when he said: " Then pleasure me", with a flirty smirk and fully opened the bedroom door behind him. That moment it felt like an ice cube had jammed inside my brain. I started to have this strange, unexplainable  feeling in my head, as dark spots started to appear in front of my eyes my eyes. I wanted to puke and snuggle my head in his chest at the same time, but I just tried to control myself, act normal and thought of running back downstairs. But he was the definition of hot and handsome which I feel don't go together. Apart from the hot abs and attractive smirks, he had a gentle, sweet look in his clear frost-blue eyes and they blinked softly, waiting for my move. His hair a lump of thinning, golden hay growing like long silky flicks from the sides of his head, like a bunch of over-grown vines. His pasty, tanning skin seemed like it would taste like caramel or a pumpkin-spiced latte if it were a liquid; both being my favorite flavors. 

But all I was able to do was take a few steps back. Before I could even decide what to say: " You're really great-super cool-hot abs-thanks for the offer, but I can't do this", or "I think there is a girl staring your way, she seems interested, he spoke up again, saying: " Look, if we could do this quickly before my boyfriend comes back. Look, I'm really trying to figure my sexuality out, once and for all. If I don't feel it like I should, or it doesn't hit me back the way it should, then it'll mean that it's time I dump my girlfriend finally and give my whole self to Robbie, because it hasn't been fun with three previous girls, too". 

My head was spinning around everything that he just said. I couldn't believe what he said. I was shocked and baffled to the extent that I didn't know what expression to even make, or whether to not make any expression at all and just leave from there that instant. I was thinking of three different things at the same time, all that he had said:

1. He was gay!

2. He was using me to try and figure out his sexuality and didn't feel any shame asking me get laid for something so sick!? And how did he even expect me to have sex with a sexually confused and lost, cheap low life like him. 

3. I wasn't the first one.

4. I also felt a bit sorry and sympathetic for him, for his sexual frustrations, despite all the three points above.

My face cringed in disgust and shock. " You son of a bitch. You asshole. Oh you hot, hot lava cake. Dick! What are you? Freak!" With that, I didn't look back at him and without another word, raced downstairs and dispersed  into the party crowd. I grabbed a cup of fruit punch from a drink table and took a sip. The taste stayed on my tongue, all sour and sharp. Through the noisy, dancing crowd of teenagers, Helga walked right up to me, shaking and swaying along the loud pop song blasting from speakers in an all-glass recording room where sat a Chinese-American DJ. The party was at the house of president of the school Music Society, Carter Wesley, also a guitarist in our local school band 'Sex Studs'.