Theory Of The Constant Melody

CHAPTER 11

 TWO WEEKS HAD NEVER BEEN THIS SIMPLE. We had to get through our blueprint for the half-year term. Similarly, we got bogged down in our papers as a requirement for enrolment to the next semester.

The following week was significantly hectic due to the final examination. And we had to be more punctual since our professors are not lenient. Once arrived late, we could no longer take the examination; otherwise, your parents should be summoned to the university.

Despite the gazillion of works, we had quite cracked down all the activities at the expected time.

Besides, we’ve been doing this for years. And what’s new, then? Being a civil engineering student, we must be responsible for our future; it’s only me who’s working on it. Same goes with others.

It’s exactly the same thing for others as me that the words seemed to blur together when reading it once. It’s something our body gets used to stifle a yawn, and we fight our eyes to examine back down to the table.

Actually, I duck out of this occurrence—with urgent haste of performing things. It was just the professors dobbed us in. Nevertheless, I and my classmates have done it well. We succeeded it. 

Focusing on what’s right in front of me, I roamed my eyes around the music hall and gave a quick peek at each of my band mates.

Sitting on the sleek, grey tiled-floor; others cross-legged, while I reclined my arms with Acherous beside me.

Ten minutes passed, we were just done running through our rehearsal for twenty minutes.

Technically, we are all good at singing. It just happened that I and Annalyn have been picked by Sheila to sing. Whereas, when it comes to Peter, he can sing, but not utterly great.

“Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes… but it’s the only thing that I know…” we sang simultaneously with the harmony of guitars and clapping hands.

Draping over each other’s arms, we pulled each other closer, still singing and humming.

Unexpectedly, my eyes fell on Acherous’ as I c****d my head sideward.

“Holding me closer ‘til our eyes meet… you won’t ever be alone, wait for me to come home…”

I paused realizing how lovely his eyes were. Those seemed to be attracting and drawing me closer. Like there’s an emotion in there telling me he needed much of a connection between us. These eyes that once got lost their spark. If I could just mute the sound around us just to hear his breath, I would certainly do.

In the same way, Acherous is a blessing in disguise. He’s the man I have never expected to come into my life which my homosexuality brings into existence.

We returned to our initial position and giggled. This time, our gaze disjoined through some thin air. 

“Okay… guys, have you heard the news?” Froilan opened up about a certain topic, fleetingly tucked his hair behind his left ear.

“Could you just have a new haircut, Froilan? You looked uncomfortable,” Annalyn requested. She seemed to be more uncomfortable with his hair.

We all chuckled, and I altered my pose sitting figure to half-cross knee up.

“But, what news are you talking about?” Greg inquired, taking out his duo brush from the side pocket of his trouser.

“About LGBT,” Froilan replied and hemmed once.

“Point at issue is all about…?” I asked, puckering my forehead.

“Violence against LGBT people,” Froilan responded.

“When was it reported?” Acherous questioned.

“Just last night. It is said to be that this tremendous cruelty against LGBT people, particularly those transgender will have expectedly increased and get worse.”

“The f**k!” Acherous murmured.

All eyes settled on him, and our eyebrows drew together.

“Can’t they accept or take into consideration that all beings are equal? Basically, people have the rights to love, live, and mingle with others regardless the gender. Furthermore, my family once accomplished a fundraising event for the renovation of evacuation center in Kentucky in partnership with LGBT square,” Acherous added, shoulders slumped while gesticulating his left hand.

“O—oh… s—so you’re p—pro-LGBT?” Peter stammered.

“Yes. Indeed,” Acherous replied.

“What if I like you and am lesbian at the same time, will you embrace my gender identification and imperfection, Acherous?” Annalyn questioned out of the blue.

Either way around or in the same manner, human rights shall be rooted in international law and must be effectively and eventually proclaimed. We have the equal rights that must be enthusiastically supported, notwithstanding the prevailing happenings. Apart from that, having a feeling of doubt—or even close to absolute acceptance—for oneself never regards as imperfection. It is called compliance with our own standard. Simply, the respect from people is what LGBT essentially needed.

In my own view, loving a person the same gender of one’s s*x is not wrong—out of sorts. Like me as a homosexual, I never forced myself to love Acherous. I just have an attraction to him; no external factors influenced my feeling.

“Yes, of course,” Acherous answered in the middle of my deep thought.

“Uhm… what if… Greg is gay…” Annalyn asked once more.

“What the heck!” Greg complained.

“… will you embrace him? And what if your heart gradually feels something toward him—something love… more than friends?” Annalyn added.

“Well, it’s my heart. I’ll chase it, no doubt. However, I’ll approach Cyan first…” Acherous looked me in the eye and beamed a little. “… what he can advice me. He’s a love consultant after all.”

SLIPPING INTO MY CHINO TROUSER, I glimpsed Acherous who’s resting on his side, legs extended straight, and hands in place. He’s sleeping quietly, wearing a white pajama and half-naked.

Wearing my brown terrycloth scuffs slippers, I sneaked inside the room—making no noise as much as possible—heading to my cabinet then took out a cream overcoat. Afterwards, I threw on it and sat on my bed. Next, I slipped into my leather wingtip boots and grabbed my black fine tooth comb on the bedside table.

“Combing your fringe hair can capture many women out there, Cyan. Do not look stunning,” I heard Acherous utter followed with a chuckle.

I turned to him and gave him a half-suppressed laugh while waggling my head. “Bro, threatened?” I joked.

“A bit.” He sat up and yawned soundly. A playful smirk plays on his lips. He took a glance of the wall clock, centered by the two windows. “Too early to go out, Cyan. Someone to swing by?” he asked, now displaying his normal expression.

“Bro, none of your business,” I humorously replied, shifting my gaze down my bottom wear. “I just grew out of this trouser. It’s too way snug,” I mumbled while stretching my pants’ fabric.

“You can borrow mine instead, bro,” he offered.

Out of the corner of my eyes, he stood up then jumped over and over, exercising.

“Thanks. But I’ll just repair this… maybe later when I come home.” Staring at him with a small smile, I thumbed up and pointed at myself.

“Better than me,” he commented. Repeatedly, he bended his left knee and lowered his hip, then a succession of right knee while holding both lower part of his flanks. As his morning routine, he never skips a day to perform an exercise.

Meanwhile, I tilted my head rightward to look through the window. Luckily, the bright radiance spreads across the sky, and the trees calmly swayed in the breeze outside.

“Where are you actually going, Cyan? You’re dressed up spiritedly,” I heard him ask.

I averted my eyes to him, and my face lit up. “At the Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church. Our day with Jesus. Always,” I responded.

“The f**k,” he said under his breath. Subsequently, he hissed and clasped his hands over head. “Why didn’t you wake me up, bro?”

With almost nine months together, living under this roof, I initiated him to go to church and spend his time to express gratitude, apology, and wish to God.

“Bro, you dozed off at two just to play an online game,” I reasoned out. “You may have been unable to take enough rest. Besides, there’s an afternoon schedule.”

He let out a frustrating sigh and travelled his palm over his face. “Fine. Just take care, bro.”

I nodded and grabbed my hobo bag—which I unusually used—at the edge of my bed.

“Sure thing, thanks.” I turned my back from him and ambled toward the doorway. I pulled the door and was about to go out when something prickled in my heart. I couldn’t impart what it was but it surely affected my current emotion.

“Cyan…” Acherous called.

Holding the knob firmly, I gulped and faced him.

“Cyan…” he said once again. “Take care.”

My mouth curved into a smile. “Sure, again.”

We both laughed and bumped fist in the air.

SNUGGLING UP TO THE COUCH, my eyes bored onto the flat television screen as a brutal scene from the action movie I decided to watch played out. Ruthless scene. Then, I squeezed my eyes shut and stroked my nape.

Suddenly, my phone rang which was placed on the table in the center. I reach out it and twisted my lips together when I saw Acherous calling me.

Without further squandering time looking on my phone’s screen, I pressed the green button and put it closely against my ear.

“Ache…”

“Hello, bro. Do you like something? I am at the supermarket.”

My heart throbbed so fast, and I chewed on my upper lip. Forthwith, a sweet smile escaped from my lips. Why would he ask?

“Hmm… bro, it’s up to you. You know me—”

“Your disgusting remark, again,” he spoke over the phone, sounded tight.

I secretly laughed, then bit my bottom lip to prevent it from curving.

“Okay… fine. Just pancake’s ingredients.”

I heard him sigh.

“Okay. I’ll hang up the call. I’ll be there in several minutes.”

“See you.”

I shook my head—neither in shyness nor negative things running through my emotions—in a simplest way he did, he gave me this palpitation I had never felt before our paths crossed.

Moments passed and a continuous knocks interrupted me.

My eyebrows drew together when I realized instantly that Acherous has his own key and just called me a little while.

Who could that be? I don’t expect somebody to pass by.

Afterwards, I stood up and rushed toward the doorway. I slued the knob and pulled the door only to discover that it was a lady who just right in front of me.

“Shandria…” I uttered.

Shaking off the hem of her lavender fitted skirt, her eyes settled on mine. She looked surprised while zipping in her saffron jacket.  “Where’s Acherous?” she asked, now showing plainness on her face.

“Uhm… he went to church,” I answered with a beam.

“Wow! That’s pretty unbelievable. As far as I know, he’s not used to go anywhere biblical or religious,” she replied as if she knew more about him.

“I’ll just wait him down there,” she added.

“Uh… S—shandria,” I stumbled over words, hence cleared my throat once. “Come in. Just stay here instead while waiting for Acherous,” I added to invite her.

I don’t actually want to be rude. Perhaps, without asking her, she wanted to talk to Acherous to sort things out.

She nodded in response and walked with her wedge sandals inside.

Reaching the couch, she wandered her eyes around the room. “Nice room,” she complimented, smiling.

“Thanks. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” I treaded toward my bed and sat on it.

Shortly, she came closer to me.

When I looked at her, she’s glancing over her shoulder.

“It’s the first time I saw you in person, Cyan. You’re actually handsome and look innocent. Acherous just actually talked about you last time. You’re too way kind,” she said huskily and placed her left hand on my left shoulder. Her free hand explored my nape next rightward neck.

“S—shandria…” I stuttered and swallowed.

“Resisting your s****l desire never wins when I allure you. Give up! f**k me unlike…” She felt me up with her hand caressing my chest. “… Acherous who never attempted to get it off with me.

“Shandria, t—this is wrong,” I mumbled.

“No, this is not,” she replied, sounded hoarse. Her eyes blazed with my lower part. “Surrender now, Cyan. Having a huge d**k can satisfy me… and I believe you can fulfill me more than I expected.” She bit her bottom lip flirtatiously and came closely to me.

“Shandria… please, get out of my sight. I don’t tap off with anyone,” I responded with conviction.

Once I go right what she want us to do, it will cause so much trouble. And what the hell I care for this? Having no s*x can never degrade my masculinity or even my life. It’s self-preservation.

She pressed her index finger against my lips. “Behind your boxer, there’s a bulky…” She sat down in a kneeling position and slid her finger through my chest down the bottom part of my navel.

In a split of second, it has given me an extreme anticipation to push her away as my brain got electrified.

Abruptly, I heard the door slam against the wall.

“Cyan…”

Shandria turned around; meanwhile Acherous’ eyes dilated in surprise.

“Shandria?”