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Roman is quite a simple guy and mostly search things that every one searches, in life. But when he falls down on Adonis, his whole and his vision of himself is going to change forever. Despite the fact Adonis is 38 years old, and Roman is 20 years less aged, how will love goes onward? Especially for Roman's black muslim mother and for homophobic father? View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5

Submitted:Dec 5, 2013    Reads: 66    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


The Roman Of Adonis


Chapter I - Roman.

"Roman? Did you listen to what I just said?

- No. Sorry.

- I'll have to see you at the end of the class."

Why was it always about me? I know why. Because my name is Roman. Because I just landed in Houston and I was born of a French-born father and a black British mother. And that was about it. It was enough for me to be expected so much from my parents. Of course, all of the teachers knew what my mother did. She was an instruction judge. She had expected me to follow her steps and work in the law domain. I was not made for this. I knew it but I had never really wanted to face that fact. I was not made for anything scholar. I loved art. I can't think of anything else I loved more than music. But who could understand it? No one. I really mean it when I say "No one". They all wanted me to have a job that could fit in everything they expected from a normal person. I stared at the window and hope to find light somewhere, under the big blue Houston's sky.

People were always judging you had to do something you like in your life and not something you would be forced to do. Indeed, there was a time when I thought about the same thing. More often than not, when I'm left alone, it always turns out that way. I thought being in the show business was something completely crazy enough. And I was sure it was the truth, but the fact was I did not care much about that. The fact is I was dreaming about being a singer and it had gone for so long that I did not backed down. I just turned out 19 today. The bell rang faster I thought it would have. I packed all of my stuff and as I wanted to get out of the room, the teacher called me.

"Where do you think you're going?

- Sorry, I... am in a hurry!

- Roman, skip that bad trick for someone would be less naive than me, could you? I need to talk to you about your work, your attention in class and the fact that you don't attend to class, at least not enough to pass your exams. You should definitely do something if you do not want to disappoint your mother. How would she react if she knew all of your shenanigans?

- Is it okay if I am not interested at all in school and it is a normal behavior? I don't really feel like talking about all that. I have to go, sorry."

I never liked the way he was insisting so much about my education, the things I had to do and why, how I needed to see things. It is true school was important but I never figured out why, that is. He watched me as I was sure he would have watched his own son. I didn't like being watched with so much insistence and for such a long while. Was he expecting something from me that I did not still know. If so, I truly wondered what it was. I looked puzzle and really not comfortable when he gazed me the way he did. I wanted to leave as rapidly as I could.

I expected something a lot happier for my birthday. Why wasn't I like any other 19 year-old guy, and have parties, friends, keen interests and whims. Instead, I only had a couple of friends I did not hear from as often as I thought. I had a mother who were way too busy by the work she had and a father who almost never existed. When I was a baby, I am sure I thought that life was about to be a lot funnier. I went out of the class and I landed on the corridor. Across the room, all that I saw were bodies, not people. I only saw human masses moving on and on, here from there and with no idea of why I thought they were moving so fast. I guess that for oftentimes, questions in life could never ever be answered. That was okay. I did not mind that much the power of such an ignorance. Lost on the loose of my thought, I could not see that a guy was looking at me.

He was deeply looking at me and the depth of his gaze had me going outside of my torpor. I never considered myself as beautiful, so I had bad time understanding why he could be looking at me for. When he realized I saw the way he was watching me, he quickly lowered his eyes and watched me as if never ever look me in all his life. I drew near him but as I did, the guy slowly walked away. Who was he? I had no idea.

I had a best friend. A guy named Tobias. He was tall, taller than me - which is not something as frequent as you might think -, he is a white adopted guy raised in a black family - which is far less frequent than people who are taller than me, it is true. He had a short hair wish an ash blond and brown tone. He had the right amount of muscle a man must have to be extremely attractive, had a perfect nose, neither too big, neither too short, a mouth you only wish you could own for yourself alone, deep blue eyes which makes you wonder if he did not have German Aryan origins. I used to spend more time to watch him than swimming when we were having swimming classes, back then. He was honestly beautiful and there is no way anyone could mistake, starting from here. And I do not say it only because he was my best friend, but if he had been, whether he were then straight or not, I would have picked him up anyway. That is why it is cool that he was straight. Anytime a guy is paying a little heed to me, I am always getting so carried away that I result being completely ridiculous to my own self. When I looked at Tobias, the first thing I always think is: "Come on, he his my best friend and is straight, withal; why would have such thoughts on mind, are you crazy or what?". That is the way it goes, and even if - it is true-, we had weird teenage-like experiences about a lot things, we remained purely best friends, no matter how hard it was for people to believe it.

I think it is always preferable to just have a true best friend for a whole life rather plenty of fake friends for short whiles. That does not mean anything to try being popular and finally remain alone. Tobias was great. He was always there when I needed him but most of all, he always did his best to rearrange things when everything was broken down. He was such a nice person that I sometimes often to thank him. He, although, never liked the men I was interested in. Why? I never found an answer to this, I guess the fact he was straight made him a better man to detect all of the bad guys who were trying to pick me up. But as facts could testify, he was always right. Always right about everything, as a rule. Yes, I always ended up alone. It ticks me off to admit it but this was true. He told me to accompany him to a concert on Friday night. I did not really want to come but it was something he, kind of, really wanted me to do, that is the reason I had decided to make him a favor and come with him to that thing. I knew who the singer was. He was a lambda guy I saw on a TV show, a broadcasted singing kind of contest, and he had not been the winning one. Still, Tobias seemed to like him a lot. I was not going to be picky and not going with him. We were college students and we met each other while I still was in London. We were born and raised in the same place, Camden Town in London. As I met him in the first year of High School, it has then been two years since we knew each other and we had been through so much that I could consider him as the best friend I will never ever have in my whole entire life. I dialed his number on my phone, because I have wanted to text him at the moment I saw his picture on a frame, put on my desk. It was hard for me to forget about him. He was everywhere I landed and we even argued last year because he did not want to stay in London without me. And so did I. But the fact was that I had such opportunities to succeed in whatever it was that I wanted to do. He did not understand that reason and he decided to follow me, making up a fake dream just to be with me. I did not mind that gesture, because I also wanted to stay with him. The phone rang. Back then, I know that I had been a little selfish, but so had he. He wanted to keep me close to him, while never letting me go, and the saying itself states: when you truly love someone, it means you are mature enough to let him go when needed.

"Hello! How do you do?

- Hey, you sound glad about something, right?

- Well, I'm not sure, in fact. I had been watched by a guy, and I don't even know what he wanted from me, he was a little bit creepy, if you ask.

- It happens sometimes. Tell me something, are you still going to come to the concert I told you about, last time?"

I made the usual bored face I did when he came back to subjects I did not like that much.

- Yeah, I guess it is not a question, only a confirmation that I have to come, right?

- Exactly. Sorry for imposing it that way, but I really want to spend more time with you. If you're always stuck in your room the way you do, we will never see each other. Despite the fact that you usually have to see the bunch of friends that you have from London, I never see you. I miss you, do you know that?"

I could not help but to be sorry for him, and for not spending enough time with him. I really wish I did spend more time with him. It was not that I did not want it. Mostly, instead, that I did not have the time. In spite of what people may told, for oftentimes, student free time is definitely not a time that you should be considering as "free time". In general, when people attend to colleges, they do not see it that way and really do not seem to see it that way. I was not the best student in the world. Neither was I specially intelligent, I must admit. But the truth was that I was worried for my future. I was afraid about it. I was afraid that I could not make it into the music industry and just lamentably fail at studies, not find a job, to walk on the street and to search for people charity, thereby allowing myself to be looked with despise and haughty looks. But I was going too far. Sometimes, my imagination gives such bad thoughts to bear.

Tobias was a good guy, even though apart from physically, he was particularily imperfect. I know no one is, but he tends to show how much he is not, which is not always something pleasant. I wish I were born perfect. Perfect to everyone, but the thing is no is and will be. It is one of the certainty people may have, while observing a world that is made of such a dire distress. My best friend, Tobias, had a pretty strong temper and could smile as easily as he could go O.J on you. That was something I had never liked about him, but at least, when he laughed about whatever stupid jokes I made, I knew he was okay. He always made huges statement and gesture about how imperfect people are and how used it would have been to live inside of world where people would have perfect. Such boring would it have been. But I did not think that way. We usually never thought the same things, even though we were best friend, we actually completed each other's empty part, rather than being one and the same. It was better, and I did think it was.





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