The Boy With the Star Tattoo

I'm telling you it is such a small gay world. Seriously. It's not even funny.

After over a year, we see each other again. The moment I caught a glimpse of him I started rummaging through my brain trying to find a name for that face, for that tattoo. Then I remembered. And because I'm curious and perhaps also stupid, I managed to end up in the same jeepney as him... and his male companion.

So it looks like he still lives in the same place. I think about that time we met. We talked and walked around a spot near my place then ate a little. It was intimate but not carnal. He was charming but also quite lonely. He was also younger so I had my inhibitions, doubts. Then, we stopped talking to each other. After some time, I tried to meet up with him only to be cancelled on at the last minute. Something came up. He admitted it was because he was seeing someone else that night.

Then over a year later, here we are. Me, exhausted, just got out of work, with my earphones on, heading home early on a Friday night. Him, with that tattoo, carrying a guitar, and if I'm not mistaken, more muscular although still a little short. I think he recognized me. We exchanged a few glances. Those eyes. We didn't talk to each other though.

As for the other guy, he might be the boyfriend, the guy he saw that night instead of me, I don't know. I was more interested in what's inside the Topman bag he was holding.

After a few minutes, it was time for me to alight. I contemplated on giving him a look before stepping out but I didn't. I just walked away, picked up my laundry and headed home.

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