Overeager Attitude

Breakfast the next morning was awkward. "Is it that Eddie guy?"

"What? I hardly know the guy, he's just a neighbor."

"Then who?"

"Lisa. You know I love you, but I am attracted to men. I don't have a boyfriend right now. Trust me. You'd be the first to know. But that doesn't mean in the meanwhile that I want to...I just don't want to lead you on," Waylon finished lamely. Lisa was up early even though she hadn't just come home from work. The two shared an uncomfortable breakfast of cereal and coffee. "Maybe I should just sleep above the shop."

"What? No, Way! Please don't. That place is weird. There's a smell, the neighbors are strange, there's a butcher next door for Christ's sake..."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything..."

"I like having you here. The lease is up in a few months. At least stay until then?" Lisa asked.

"Fine. But Lisa, we can't keep up any semblance of a physical relationship. Agreed?"

A silent nod where Lisa's eyes never looked up from her coffee was the response.

"And if I do find a...a man," Waylon felt good saying it, though it had fallen out of his mouth feeling so foreign, "I will just bring him there, not here. And I will tell you about anything. You're my best friend, Lis."

"Thanks, Way," she said. The smile she gave was tremulous, but at least she was putting on a strong front. Waylon hated seeing her like this and hated more that it was because of him. But he had decided he had to live his life and not live for someone else. Not even someone as special and precious to him as Lisa. He gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek before gathering up his stuff and heading in to the office.

Waylon forced himself not to look through the bars and into Eddie's shop. He didn't want to be disturbed with visions of the guy. He had work to do. Waylon was making good headway until the door opened. For a moment, Waylon thought it may be his first customer until he remembered that he technically had not advertised anywhere and did not even have a sign out front.

The man that entered took off a pair of sunglasses and slid them onto his head, somehow making his messy brown hair look better. He was good looking and looked around Waylon's age, mid-twenties. His jeans were dark, his shirt black, and his tan jacket left him looking very well put together. He walked directly to the desk where Waylon was sitting.

"Can I help you? I'm not really open for business yet, but I can..."

"You Waylon Park?"

"Yes?" How did all of these people seem to know his name already?

"Miles Upshur. Mind if I ask you a few questions?" The man was pulling out a camcorder and Waylon frowned when the blinking red light was forced in his face.

"A few...wait, what is this about? Are you with the police? Do you have to film this?" Waylon asked.

Miles pulled some kind of badge out of his jacket and flashed it too quickly for Waylon to read. "Press. Formerly with the Post. I'm looking into Murkoff Chemical. You work for them now, right?"

"Uh, yeah, but I just help out with some tech for the tenants in the strip here. Nothing big," said Waylon. He didn't trust this guy so he kept the information about his new credentials to himself. He was yet to even log into the Murkoff systems anyways. "Wait, formerly? So you're not even here for some story..."

"I'm here for the story, my man. Investigative journalist. So far, my gut has never been wrong. And my gut tells me something fucking stinks out there," said Miles.

"Oh, that, it comes and goes, we think it's from the factory..."

"Yeah exactly. It fucking stinks and humans shouldn't have to deal with that shit. Murkoff may have paid off law enforcement, zoning, environmental protection and all the other agencies, but I'm not going to stand by while they pollute this area."

Oh. He was after pollution. Hipsters were the new hippies.

"Well, I don't know anything about that. I smell it the same as you and that's all I know," said Waylon.

"Do you know Richard Trager?" Miles asked. Waylon shook his head looking confused. "Frank Manera? Eddie Gluskin?"

"Eddie," Waylon said immediately biting his tongue. "He's my neighbor."

"They're all your neighbors, asshat. Didn't bother to walk the area before moving in?" Miles asked.

"I was just uh, needing a place. Cheap. Why are you asking about Eddie?" Waylon had to ask. The man seemed charming and polite, if not a little annoyed at his female clientele.

"A bunch of right guilty bastards you have for neighbors, Park," said Miles, looking at everything in the store while keeping the camera angled at Waylon's face.

"Guilty? I don't understand. I thought you were investigating Murkoff?" Waylon asked.

"Look. Keep your eyes open man. Anything seems off, contact me," Miles finally took the camera out of Waylon's face long enough to fish out a business card. "My e-mail's on there. Best way to get me."

"Okay, but I have to admit, I am pretty confused about this entire thing and do not have any information regarding any..."

"Later, Park," Miles said, not even waiting for Waylon to finish before walking outside the door and leaving it to close loudly.

Waylon sat thinking for several minutes after the journalist's departure. Some guy after a story about pollution asking about Eddie. It made no sense. And what did he mean Eddie was guilty? The thought that the gentleman next door that he had a future date with could be something sinister had all the hairs on Waylon's body standing on edge. He was still feeling the chills when the door opened and Eddie appeared, as though conjured from his thoughts, and he was not smiling.

"Did that reporter talk to you?" Eddie demanded, his usually melodic voice had transformed into a growl. Waylon was frozen for a moment unsure what to say to his neighbor when his face looked so damn...evil.

"Eddie, hi, yeah, he was just asking some stuff about Murkoff I told him I don't know anyth..."

"That...slimy fuck..."

"Whoa Eddie he was just, asking some questions. He's worried about the chemicals causing pollution I think," Waylon said.

"Chemicals..." Eddie seemed to absorb the statement, his face slowly returning to a mask of calm. "Pollution, yes." He smoothed back his black stripe of hair and offered a sheepish smile to Waylon. "Sorry, darling. That same...man was here a while back asking questions I found...uncomfortable. I suspected he was out to close down the shops." Eddie's calm seemed to be completely back in place as he turned a charming smile back on Waylon. "I did have another reason for coming over. I had changed my mind about your earlier suggestion having to do with putting up a website space on the internet. Is there any way you could help me with that? I would be willing to pay for your services."

"Oh, that wouldn't be so hard. I'm not really a design guy but I know where to go to outsource that. I wouldn't charge you for my portion of it, Eddie," said Waylon, hoping that last part didn't come out too corny. He still wasn't sure if their dinner was between friends or something more. Now was not the time to chase the man away with his overeager attitude. "I'm not doing anything this afternoon. I could get everything rolling for you?"

"You really are too kind, Waylon."

After eating the meager lunch he had packed himself, Waylon walked next door to make good on his promise to Eddie and noticed that the smell was much stronger that day. It was so bad, in fact, that Waylon had to cover his noise with his hand as he pushed his way into the tailor shop.

"Hold still now..." came Eddie's voice from behind the curtain area.

"Ow, you're hurting me..." came a feminine voice.

"Do try to hold still. A woman has to endure so much if she wants perfection."

"Ouch!"

Waylon walked into the shop as he overheard the conversation. He walked directly to the dress form he had noticed the other day and found the white dress was sewn together properly and now different straps and lace were pinned for the next step. Eddie had been working on it, and it looked more lovely than ever.

"It's not pleasant I know..." The way Eddie's voice caressed the words as he spoke to the woman had Waylon's interest stirring.

"Uh, Eddie," Waylon called out toward the curtain. "It's Waylon. Just here to work on the computer. Is it okay if I get started?"

"Of course, Waylon. I will be done with this...customer as soon as she stops fidgeting..."

Waylon walked over to the computer and found it on and unlocked. He would have to discuss basic computer security with Eddie. He opened up the internet and immediately the search history was visible. It looked like Eddie had taken Waylon up on his suggestion to use the internet for porn. But the kind of searches left Waylon feeling...odd.

Every search was some variation of looking for men wearing women's clothing, with a particular focus on wedding dresses. Waylon felt his heart start racing. He felt so interested in the beautiful clothing that Eddie created, and now he knew that Eddie had a desire to see men in women's clothing. And Waylon suspected he may have a desire to dress-up. His mouth had gone dry and his original task forgotten.

One particular page had been visited several times. Waylon made sure the storeroom was still empty before clicking on the link. He wasn't prepared for how high the volume was when a video came on blaring through the computer speakers. Sloppy wet sounds broadcast through the room as an attractive man in a wedding dress and veil choked on a giant cock. Waylon had never clicked the exit button so quickly in his life.

"Ouch! That is it," came an exasperated cry from behind the curtain. Waylon looked up from the computer to see a beautiful blond woman in a giant puffy wedding gown emerge from the area. "My cousin said you were the best, but I cannot stand in this dress one second longer with you stabbing me with all these pins." The bridezilla stomped up onto the dais and began to admire her dress from all the angles provided. "It looks fine to me! Just finish the alterations. The wedding is in two weeks!"

"Yes well we wouldn't be having all of these re-fittings if someone could stop putting on weight..." came Eddie's voice as he emerged, a measuring tape slung over his shoulder, and a dark expression over his face. His usual uniform of a vest, slacks, and bow-tie were more disheveled than usual. "Take it off, and get out of my shop."

"I can't believe you are talking to me like this! I am paying you!"

"What part of the instructions were confusing, you crazy bitch."

"Rude!" screamed the woman, turning to walk right out of the shop still wearing the complicated wedding dress, pins and all. She had to struggle slightly to get the wide, puffy train out of the narrow shop door.

Waylon quickly turned his eyes back to the keyboard not sure if he should have seen that, and definitely not sure if he should comment to his friend.

"Filthy sluts. The only thing I don't like about this business are the customers..." Eddie said. Waylon gave an uncomfortable laugh.

"Are you okay Eddie? You seem tense..."

Eddie gave an exaggerated inhale, a dark frown on his otherwise handsome face. "Do not worry. I won't allow that whore to bring down my day. She'll be back, anyways."

And Eddie was right. As Waylon got all the preliminary work in place for a Gluskin's Tailoring and Alterations website, the bride walked back in with her dress still in place and her eyes puffy from crying. Eddie was not the least bit apologetic as he followed her back into the fitting area and finished up the service. After the woman had departed with a scowl on her pretty face, Eddie emerged and walked over to where Waylon was clicking away at the keys.

"How did you know?" Waylon asked, curiously. Eddie hummed in response, eyebrows raising. "The woman. How did you know she would come back?"

"She left her clothing, darling," grinned Eddie. "You didn't think she arrived her in that disgusting rag of a dress, did you?" Waylon laughed at his own naivety.

"I guess I don't know much about weddings. I never got around to having one," said Waylon.

"Hmm. Me neither. Still looking for the right girl," said Eddie before returning to his ledger where he began scribbling away notes and figures. Waylon closed his eyes to force down the painful disappointment that rose in his chest at those words. Eddie was looking for a girl. Their dinner was not a date. His crush on his next door neighbor would need to end. But then what about those searches on Eddie's browser history?

"Do you have any photography equipment?" Waylon asked. Eddie looked up from his ledger with a flat stare.

"No. I do not like being photographed. Why would you ask?"

"Oh, I just thought some photographs of your original designs would be a good addition to the website. I have some empty space up above my shop since I'm not living there. We could use it to set up a kind of photo shoot. Just for the dresses."

"Waylon. I knew it the moment I saw you. There's something special about you. Having you move in to the shop next door has been such a blessing," Eddie said, smiling such a charming smile that Waylon had to remind himself to breathe.