Journals Of The Not So Rich & Famous
CHAPTER ONE
I had a gig with my new band, Megabias, at Revolver on Saturday night. Now, this was a big night for me, in any event, but never did I think that it would also be the first time I’d ever be unfaithful to my girlfriend (recently become wife) of 8 years. It was also a bit of a surprise that it was with a man. I’d known I was bi practically all my life, but I’d never actually done anything with someone of the same sex. Well, there was that boy I kissed in my early high school years, but that’s about it.
It wasn’t until almost halfway through our set that I saw him walk in the door and pay the entry fee. You might’ve noticed that I was paying attention to this fella as soon as he was in eyesight, and that’s just the way it was. The reason? Well, for one, this svelte Adonis was absolutely gorgeous – I’ve always been one to go for the junkie-build type guy, and this one fit the description exactly.
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Wow. Oh – my – GOD! Yep, that about describes my night!
I guess this kinda needs an introduction… Hmm…
People who know me will know that I tend to become obsessed with things, for example, Buffy, and reality TV shows. In this case I’m talking about the latter – specifically, Celebrity Big Brother. I thought it’d be kinda dodgy at first, but then I found out Dylan Lewis was on it and I was hooked. This was a sexy man, there’s no doubt about it. I watched every single episode (taping the ones I missed, though I rarely had to stoop to that level), becoming more and more infatuated with this fascinating character. Naturally, they didn’t show hardly enough of what he got up to.
Anyway, back to Saturday night.
I was in Melbourne visiting a friend, but they happened to be already preoccupied with a musical at the Princess Theatre that night (I was going to see it on Sunday afternoon before I left to go back home to Sydney), so I’d obviously have to entertain myself. This wasn’t at all a problem, because I’d found out a week earlier from another friend that Dylan’s new band would be playing at Revolver on that same night, so I knew what I’D be doing that weekend!
I got to the station just as the train was leaving. I looked at the screen to see when the next train was, and then glanced between it and my watch until I’d worked out what time I’d get to Prahran station and how long it’d take me to walk to Revolver. My eyes started to sting when I realised I wouldn’t make it in time for the start of their set. I’d really been looking forward to this, and I’d planned all the train times and everything so I’d be there by midnight, but I’d fucked up anyway. ‘At least you’ll still see some of it’ I kept telling myself as I jumped onto the next train.
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He put his wallet in his pocket and then looked up and stared straight at me. I don’t know how I could see his face from that distance – it was as if I was wearing really sharp-focus glasses that were converged only on him. He looked really familiar, but I just couldn’t place where I’d seen him before. He smiled, straight at me. Then I blinked and he was gone. I scanned the room, trying to see him in the gigantic mass of moving bodies. I spotted him leaning over the bar, ordering a drink. Hell, he hardly had to lean, he was that tall. I felt myself relax a bit, and then went back to concentrating on performing. Inevitably, my attention drifted.
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I bounded up the stairs two at a time and ducked into the room where I could hear the band playing already. I restrained myself, barely, from looking up until I’d paid, then I shoved my wallet in my pocket and my eyes shot up and fixed on him like I had some kind of Dylan-seeking radar system.
Then I realised.
He was looking directly at me.
I stopped breathing.
‘Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!’ my brain screamed.
Eventually my body noticed the lack of oxygen and gave my lungs a bit of a kick-start. This all happened in a matter of seconds, but Dylan hadn’t taken his eyes off me for a moment. I smiled, in frozen shock, and then took the opportunity to duck behind someone who happened to walk across in front of me at that moment, and bolt to the bar.
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He kept his eyes glued to me for the entire rest of the gig, leaning against the bar holding a VB stubby, but rarely actually drinking it. I, in turn, kept my eyes on him rather a lot too. After the encore song, where audience members get up on stage and jam with us, he shot me the most adorable cheeky grin I’d ever seen – it was then that I knew I had to talk to this guy. There was just something about him that intrigued me. Now I’m usually fairly nervous when it comes to talking to new people, even if I don’t show it, but what I was feeling when I walked backstage was the most intense case of butterflies I’d ever experienced. And what the fuck was I going to say?
CHAPTER TWO
Out of all my favourite Celebrity BB Dylan moments, I’d have to say I enjoyed it most when he sang or did something interesting with his mouth (yeah, that doesn’t really narrow it down, does it?) – so now, standing at the bar clutching my beer, I was literally mesmerised. He’s so utterly amazing when he’s on stage – his body’s incredible – I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was looking at me a fair bit too, and I was far from complaining.
At the last possible moment I shot him another smile, before he walked off the back of the stage. It was then that I looked down at my beer and saw that there was still over three-quarters left. I took a sip, but by then it was warm, so I put it down on the bar. After the people started filing out of the room, I took a seat on one of the square cushy things behind the central pillar, and waited.
After a few minutes the band came out again and started packing up their stuff. Dylan came out last and looked around, seemingly searching the room. I smirked. I was in a fairly shadowy part of the room so he couldn’t see me. Well hey, I felt like being sneaky – is that so wrong? He looked disappointed, but I was determined to play hard to get. If he wanted me, he’d have to come and get me.
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After a while we came out to get our stuff. This chore normally wouldn’t have bothered me, but right now I had other things on my mind. I scanned the room, looking for the familiar gaunt frame, tousled hair and boyish face that had been burnt into my mind, but everybody seemed to have left. My heart, face and hopes dropped with amazing velocity. I must’ve been imagining the electricity between us the whole time. I shook myself out of my disappointed daze, crouched down and started pulling the plugs.
I looked up when I saw a shadow pass over me.
“Hey there spunky-man.” Oh fuck. It was him. He was smirking slightly, if a little nervously. He just called me a spunky man. Oh my god.
“Hey…” Well, it was all I could think of as a fitting response. ‘Kiss me’ I thought would’ve been a bit too revealing at this point in time.
We stared at each other. The tension was palpable. I had no idea who this guy was. All I knew was everything about him was perfect, and that tonight would be a night of firsts for me.
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Okay. So I changed my mind. I walked straight up to him and said hi. I don’t know where it came from, but I called him a ‘spunky-man’. I was as surprised as he was, going by the look on his face before he said a squeak of a ‘hey’ in response.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked (once I got over the shock of what I said). He nodded quickly. “Beer?” He nodded again. And here I was thinking that I’d have trouble coming up with the words, when I was beating him on the word count already. “Come down when you’re ready.” I said, turning towards the bar and looking back at him. I went and bought us a beer each, and took them over to the back corner of the room, and watched him hurriedly putting his stuff away, in the end asking Fergus (Fergus Finger Thunder Thumbs – their bass player) to finish up for him. Dylan started to rush off the stage, but then slowed down a bit.