I don't even know what this is... Some ShaunxDesmond crack thing. This was inspired greatly by I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry and I Love You, Phillip Morris. They really look at gay relationships, and it is a beautiful thing. I think it's absolutely disgusting that people could ever protest and discriminate gay and lesbians just because they're different.
If you read Paradise Lost, you'll know that I start with a quote from anyone. This doesn't really matter that much, but for this story I'm just putting a few lyrics from a song at the beginning of the chapter.
You ever love somebody so much you could barely breathe when you're with them?
You meet, and neither one of you even know what hit them
Got that warm fuzzy feeling, yeah, them chills, used to get them
Now you're getting fucking sick of looking at them
You swore you'd never hit them, never do anything to hurt them
Now you're in each others face, spewing venom in your words when you spit them
You push, pull each others hair, scratch, claw, bit them
Throw them down, pin them, so lost in the moments when you're in them
-Eminem's Love the Way You Lie
"I will love you always... Don't listen to what those idiots say, this is who we are, and it's a beautiful thing. The most beautiful thing I could ever imagine."
Desmond sighed yet again and looked at his watch—again. They'd already been it that damn store for an hour, and she was nowhere close to picking anything out.
"How about this one?" The skinny woman stepped out of the dressing room she'd been in, blue eyes twinkling. She was wearing an attractive black strapless dress that came up to just above her knees, skin tight. There was a white silk ribbon around the waist, tied into a bow on her right side.
Desmond looked her up and down, then raised an eyebrow. "Turn around." She obeyed, and he nodded slowly. Lucy's ass did look great in the dress, and it wasn't too low to be slutty, but low enough that some cleavage did show. He'd have something to stare at while they were at her parents.
"I like it," he concluded.
Lucy huffed. "I don't."
Desmond groaned. "We've been shopping for two hours, and an hour just in this store!"
"But I want my parents to see that I know what I'm doing. Does this look like that to you?" She spun around again, looking uncertain.
"Yes," Desmond said immediately. Anything to get them out of that store. "Your parents would love it."
Lucy raised an eyebrow. "How would you know? You've met them once, and I could tell you weren't paying attention to anything they said."
The brunet scoffed. "You wouldn't be able to know that just by looking at me."
"They asked you what you liked best about me. You said, 'Ah, what an interesting story, Mr and Mrs Stillman. Have you always loved yachts?'" She smiled slightly. "Just because they're rich doesn't necessarily mean they own a yacht."
"But they do own a yacht.". A big one, too. Lucy's father had let Desmond look at it through the window of their living room. Of their oceanside mansion.
"And besides," he said in his defence, "you weren't listening either."
"Yes, but they're my parents," Lucy explained, not really sounding excited about the conversation, looking in the mirror again. "You know, I think I will get this one."
"How much is it?" Desmond asked, wondering why she never bothered to look at the price tag.
"Right." The blonde pulled the tag from inside the dress and tilted her head to the side to read it. "Five-fifty. Not bad for Juicy Couture."
He rolled his eyes while she was focused on the tag. Rich people never could figure out the value of a dollar. Desmond worked as a bartender and made thirty-five thousand dollars a year, the same amount of money Lucy spent in six months on her apartment, which they now shared. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a living room, and two bathrooms, but Lucy loved it because it was modern, and right in the middle of downtown New York.
"Just get changed and buy it and let's go."
Neither of them had a car. It was just a waste of money in this city, where walking or taking the subway was faster than driving anyway. When they'd first started dating, Lucy had blanched at the idea of sitting in a subway that was cleaned maybetwice a year. She refused to walk as well, saying it was too hot in the summer - she'd sweat - and too cold in the winter. She took cabs everywhere, spending hundreds of dollars a week sitting in traffic.
"Ugh, it's hot," she complained as they got off the subway at 68th Street.
"It's only April darling, it's going to get hotter," Desmond answered automatically, distracted. The sound of a large crowd came from ahead of them. He sped up, somewhat weighed down by Lucy's shopping bags.
"Hey, wait!" Lucy hurried to catch up. "What's the rush?"
"Oh." Desmond stopped at the corner of Lexington and East 66th. There was a large mob gathered outside of a building, a lot of them carrying signs and posters. Most of them were men, and all of them had angry expressions on their faces. There were so many protestors that they spilled off the sidewalk onto the street, blocking traffic.
"Can you read any of those signs?" Desmond asked, leaning toward Lucy. "Let's get closer."
"We have to leave in three hours, and I still have to do my hair-"
Desmond ignored her and walked down East 66th Street on the right side of the street, so he could see both the group and the entrance of the building they were standing in front of.
"God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and STEVE."
"AIDS isn't a disease, it's a cure—a cure for homosexuality."
"Children need a mom and a dad, not a dad and a dad, not a mom and a mom."
"Homosexuals are possessed by the devil."
"No queer, no fear."
The crowd was massed outside of the Club Dominicana, a popular spot for gay parties. Even during the day, it was busy, and there was a small gathering of people outside the entrance, facing the mob. Both parties were screaming at each other.
"Queers don't belong in America!" Desmond heard a voice yell.
"Fuck you!" A man on the gay side shouted. He had stepped protectively in front of another, smaller man. "We have as much right to be here as you do!"
Couples were holding each other, faces twisted in rage or sadness, screaming their rights at the protestors. One couple was standing off to the side, a man holding another who was sobbing into his partner's shoulder. The taller man was looking at the scene with a mixture of sadness and disgust as his boyfriend fell apart at the seams.
Desmond stared, not knowing how people could hate each other so much. What did it matter if men liked other men, or women liked other women?
"Fucking queers." Lucy was beside him now. "Come on Desmond, let's go."
She dragged him away from the club, talking about whatever the fuck girls talk about, but her boyfriend's mind was a million miles away.
"Lucy, dear, could you pass the pepper?" Lucy's father held out a hand and smiled warmly at his daughter as she handed him the shaker. Desmond sat awkwardly next to her, not touching the food laid out on the shining plate in front of him.
Lucy had one brother, but he had been too busy working on Wall Street to come to dinner, so it was just the Stillmans and Desmond.
"So, Desmond," Mr Stillman said around his smoked duck. "You're a bartender."
"Yes, sir," Desmond muttered back, not wanting to be dragged into the conversation.
"And what's that like?" Mrs Stillman wondered, reaching for more braised cabbage.
Desmond couldn't believe the question he'd just been ask. He was a bartender. He tended bars.
"Well..." he began. "I get to meet a lot of new and interesting people. I've made so many friends from this job. It doesn't pay much, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"Anything?" Lucy's father asked, a glint in his eye. "You know, if you're looking to make some more money, I could pull a few strings-"
"Oh, no thank you," Desmond said, a little too bitterly. "I'm fine where I am."
The rest of the meal continued in silence. Desmond picked idly at the food in front of him until Lucy was finished.
"You've barely touched your food, darling," she chirped, sounding far too cheerful.
"I'm aware of that," Desmond muttered when her parents weren't looking. "I'm just not hungry."
"A man needs to eat to be healthy," Mr Stillman broke in suddenly. "Why, I remember a friend of mine who didn't eat a thing; he was far too busy, you see.."
And he droned on and on about some friend of his who almost withered away to nothingness until he finally realised what was going on and - you guessed it - started making time to eat.
Desmond wished he could wither away to nothingness.
"Fascinating story, Richard," Mrs Stillman said when it was finished. "I hadn't heard that one before."
"Lucy, can I talk to you for a second?" Desmond asked sideways, slightly distracted by a boar's head on the wall staring at him.
"Of course." They stepped into the hallway. Desmond closed the mahogany double doors behind them.
"God, do they have to rub their money in my faces?" He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.
"Oh come on, you could have that if you'd just accept the job my father offered." Lucy was looking at him like it was his fault her father was a rich douche.
"It's not about him having money, it's about him acting like he's better than me just because he has it." Desmond shook his head. "You never got that."
"Well I'm sorry if I'm not smart enough for you."
"I never-" Desmond stopped. "You know what, you're right. "You aren'tsmart enough for me."
"Well, excuse me I-went-to-university-and-got-a-PhD," Lucy spat. "Oh, wait, you didn't! You have a bartender's licence." She glared at him.
"You know what, this isn't working." Desmond threw his hands up in defeat.
The angry look instantly vanished from Lucy's face and she looked at him with her big blue eyes. "What isn't working?" she whispered.
"Oh, don't pull that crap. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You think you can look at me like that and I'll just melt. Not anymore."
"No, no, no," Lucy moaned, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."
Desmond looked down at her, unimpressed.
"But Desmond... I love you," she pleaded.
"You think I give a fuck? It's not always about you, believe it or not," he hissed.
"And what brought on this great revelation?" Lucy shouted, suddenly angry again—she was famous for her mood swings. "If I've 'always been like this', why have you now just suddenly come to your senses?" Her words were dripping with sarcasm.
"Because, your fucking parents are idiots."
"No, that's not it, I can tell." She narrowed her eyes at him.
"All right." Desmond took a deep breath. When he had seen those protestors earlier, it broke his heart to think about the innocent gays and lesbians who were being hated and excluded just because of who they are. He wanted to try something, to see what it was like. "I'm gay."
HAHAHAHAHAHA- that was bad. No seriously. The first chapter of my fics usually always suck, so don't get turned off too soon, kay?
God, I hate how I wrote Lucy. She's supposed to be out of character, yeah, but it's like a created a whole new person and called them Lucy.
There was a whole lot more I wanted to write about this, but I can't remember. So yeah. Review please :D