AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart jumps with a sudden notion.
Was this a prank?
Am I being punked right now?
No, it was his legitimate email, I remind myself. He must be here. He is waiting for you. Look for the blue suit.
After a tug on the short, curved bill of my hat, I keep my posture straight as I—smooth as a cocky cat on a leisurely prowl—make my way toward the bar, strutting along as if I belong here just as much as any of these stiff-necked CEOs. It doesn’t do anything to alleviate my racing heart, or the nerves I had before walking in here, but maybe it does something for my confidence. But I know a close-enough look into my eyes will betray my fear.
Then I spot it at last: the blue jacket.
Through a dim room of mild chatter, business suits, dresses, and jewelry, I see the back of a bluish suit jacket, almost gray-blue in the lighting, perched on a barstool. I give myself another encouraging word to steel my nerves—“Zak Attack, you got this.”—then head for the bar, cutting across the room with the confidence of a prince.
It isn’t that hard. I role-played a prince on cam before. I even did a royalty-themed striptease for Valentine’s Day at Aubergines last year.
Just lift your chin an inch more than is natural. Pop an invisible stick up your ass. Then strut like your shit’s made of gold.
And it works.
Until I reach the bar counter and the gray-blue-suited man turns to face me.
I wouldn’t say he’s fifty; he’s closer to eighty. When he squints at me, two giant gray bushes of eyebrows pull together and become one, and his rough, porous, bulging nose wrinkles up.
I don’t mean to be rude. Or judgmental. Or … whatever negative thing it is I’m trying to avoid being right now.
But this isn’t what I imagined Captain to look like. It’s not even in the ballpark.
It’s what’s on the inside that counts, right? “Hi there,” I greet him, forcing a smile. I keep on my swagger, knowing it’s what he likes about me, and prop an elbow up on the counter, leaning against it. “So we finally meet, Captain. After all this time.”
He squints even more, so much so that his eyes disappear. “After all this what?” he barks.
I swallow. Already, I’m thinking up reasons to cut this evening short. My nerves of excitement are fast turning into panic. “All this time,” I say a touch louder, wondering if he’s having trouble hearing me. “After all of this time. We finally meet, Cap.”
“Cap?” The man pulls out a set of glasses, pops them on his nose, then looks me up and down. “Are you a captain, son? What’s going on here?”
I experience a moment of doubt.
Is he playing with me?
“I …” I lean in and bring my voice down. “I’m wearing the outfit you asked me to wear. The one from our first …” I’m sweating. Badly. “… our first show. You remember? You asked me to dress up as a captain for you. I went and got—”
“You what?” he grunts. “Speak up, son!”
There are a lot of eyes on me now. It’s just as well, because I feel like an idiot suddenly, standing here in a sleeveless white captain’s shirt with the golden four-stripe epaulettes on the shoulders, tight white pants, shiny shoes, and a captain’s hat—the exact outfit I wore during our private show the day he first entered my chat room, years ago. He paid me the site equivalent of two hundred dollars to put on the outfit, dance for him without taking off a single piece of my uniform, then sit there and talk to him like a buddy for our remaining time. It was the most unusual and least sexual show I have ever done, and I’ll never forget the way it made me feel.
Respected.
Acknowledged.
Human.
And now here I am, wearing what he told me to wear, in the middle of an upscale hotel bar, and he’s acting like he doesn’t know me.
I have a lot of patience. I have compassion that runs so deep, I’d forgive a mortal enemy over cups of coffee before the sun rises if it came to it.
But I gave up a lot tonight to meet him. Trust, faith, and a little bit of crazy brought me all the way up here from Mayville. I’m not about to be made a fool of in a room full of snobs. “Captain,” I start, “I don’t know what you want, but I’m starting to—”
Then my eyes slide over his left shoulder like a breeze, and another sight catches them.
An unexpected sight.
A second blue suit—a deep, royal blue suit.
He stands at the archway leading into the hotel bar from another section of the hotel. He has a tall, sturdy, and slender build, which his blue jacket fits with exquisite tailoring. His hair, brown with salty streaks, is swept over in a handsome part, bringing out his thick, strong eyebrows and jawline. Upon seeing me, the smallest hint of a smile tickles his lips, and I see a flash of relief in his eyes.
