Page 125 of Rhymes with Metaphor
Of late, Joel had been swanning about their loft in bare feet, and Reg wondered whether the reason was to show off his tattoo.He would often position himself on the settee or on a chair or their bed in a way that Reg couldn’t not see it.
“People who hear my voice before they meet me in person look disappointed,” said Joel.“One of my clients told me I had an enchanting voice in a disenchanting face.”
“There’s something wrong with their eyes, then.Would you like me to dress you?”
“Please,” said Joel, and he stood compliantly while Reg selected his clothes and buttoned and zipped him into them.
A package had duly arrived in the mail from Martin shortly after their meeting at the coffee shop.It contained Reg’s best grey silk tie, his diamond cufflinks, and nothing else.Not a note of regret or even a letter of petty resentments.Nothing.
Reg got the tie and cufflinks out now and put them on Joel, but the grey didn’t suit Joel’s brown eyes as it had Martin’s hazel ones.
“What’s wrong?”said Joel.
“I think that something else would suit you better.”
Reg put Joel in a white suit with an apricot tie, and they looked so much better on him.“You look remarkable in that.”
As they drove to the venue, Reg said, “You’re looking peaky.Have you been giving yourself enough time off?”
“I don’t want to turn down work.”
“Being selective makes you look more appealing, not less.Are there any books you don’t like narrating?”
“I don’t have a genre preference, if that’s what you mean.I like well written books.Like when the writer knows when I need to breathe.The badly written ones always take longer to get through.Some have really long sentences, and I run out of air before I can get to the end.I’d say I have a preference for certain authors.”
“And is there anything that makes you uncomfortable to read?”said Reg.
“Scientific inaccuracy.I pointed out a medical error to an author once, and all he said was ‘It’s fiction.’He didn’t fix the mistake.I hope no one thinks I endorse the content I’m reading.”
“What about reading other material?Explicit sex, for example.”
“We’re attending a gallery exhibiting pictures of me naked,” said Joel.“That doesn’t bother me.After a summer of exposure therapy with you, I’m incapable of feeling embarrassed.I could read an entire page of Nobbly Bobblys without blushing.”
“I’m sorry I put you through anything, cariad.”
“I didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful,” said Joel.
As they walked to the venue, Joel said, “How safe is it to come out to these people as a former pre-med student?”
“Safe?”
“I told my castmates in the audio play that I used to be in pre-med, and they started acting like I was going to perform physical exams on them.They were already weirded out by how young I was.I’m only one year off from needing my mother to sign my contracts for me.”
“Have ‘intriguing’ be your default bearing,” said Reg.“Say nothing.Imply everything.Sip your wine pensively.Nibble the sandwiches.Look at the sculptures.Pretend to be bored.You’ll go down a treat.”
Joel took Reg’s hand as they reached the entrance.Reg suspected he was seeking reassurance rather than affection, but he still felt chuffed.They were met by the flustered poet, who handed Joel a sheaf of marked-up pages (“Some notes you should see.”) and after getting settled, the poet was introduced, followed by Joel.Reg was again struck by how self-assured Joel seemed in front of an audience.He read flawlessly, with precisely timed dramatic pauses.Afterwards, he suffered the ensuing applause before bowing to the poet and exiting the stage.
The crowd dispersed to wander through the exhibits.Reg went over to the drinks table.
“I can’t drink,” said Joel.“I’m still eighteen.”
“When do you turn nineteen?”
“November eleventh.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”Reg handed Joel a glass of sparkling water, choosing champagne for himself.“Do you feel like you’re regressing, being denied alcohol?We can go home and get drunk if you like.”
“I want to see your poem first.”
