Thursday, 29 May 2014

Blue/Jacket 3

I can’t help but look at his chilly state and how much of a contrast our attires our, our appearance in general is quite contradicting, even if our height is close to each other, we still seem like a broken reflection, two sides of a card. We keep walking and he doesn’t go deep into Gamla Stan, walking faster, now the pick and mix gone, either smiling at me softly, observing or asking me about what jobs do I do and I just feel myself start blacking out, wondering what does he even want of me, as I observe the paradox of entity. I feel odd as if all my life, all my dreams were leading up to the moment and even with shuffling a bunch of cards and being fortune told by different people he would show up, sometimes the fortunes told would be wonky, never done by people who knew what they were doing, but he would show up. I can’t help but keep staring at him up to the point that it’s even impolite.

Is he too airy for me?

Is he the one?

Are we supposed to shag and I just feel insecure and dysphoric about my body, but he doesn’t seem to be showing much interest, just some polite curiosity. 

“So... what bands are you into?” He asks for the third time after I ask him to repeat his question, as he actually zips his jacket for once, when it’s actually not that chilly and I look at his black boots. I wish I could pull mine off as well as he does. I scratch my head. We should have similar music taste. 

“The Jam?”

“Oh, I like the Strokes and 50 Cent.” I don’t think I want my dreams to come true. I just look away, I know I’m kidding. It’s aligned and I think I pretty much want it and it seems to be the blood within me, which I pump in and out of my heart. 

I think I’ve started the affair in my head already by the time he kept coming back in the dreams, already acknowledging my age and by seeing him still airheaded from myself gives me confusion. But doubt still seems to linger as I realize that we both know close to nothing of each other and he surely knows nothing of what I believe seems to be wrapped as faith in fate. I still can’t seem to keep staring at him, my cheeks warming up and too many doubts in my head, that I’ve still got a long way to go for surgery and I’m not entirely flat with my binder, that my hands are still small, my face shape isn’t the best and pretty much I’m only thankful for my voice already being deep as given and some facial hair which I pompously shave in the morning. It was odd to do for the first time, pressing the razor against the skin, a daily task which seemed to be not mine was now in my hands and shaving off something I want to grow. It’s an odd metaphor, killing off something you want.

And it’s surely not Alex I want to kill off.

I’m sure he wants more pick and mix as he slows near the 7/11. 

And he walks in, as I see that he has a bunch of quirks which I seem to have been tied in at the present as well, meaning I get to see him choose all the sour pieces all over again as he just walks in circles around the small section.

Do I want to be with a person who just bought a kilo of pick and mix?

But what is fate? Is it walking up to a person and saying that I’ve dreamt of him and his jacket? And where do I fit in? I’m sure he has friends and he is friends with doctors and I’m sure he’s taken anyway. I don’t even know if he’s gay or interested in men, actually, I don’t know if he’s transphobic, but then he never said anything and he doesn’t seem to mind me as we head out and I quickly buy a coke, annoyed at the price which is pretty much the same to a litre bottle of coke in ICA. He offers me it again, as we slowly make our way out of the old streets, past an English bookstore with a poster of Kerouac hugging someone else, but I don’t pay much attention, instead staring at the BUY THE GUARDIAN HERE sign, but I just walk past with Alex, who seems to look up and see the lights which still seemed to be hinting out Christmas, but they’re still pretty so they don’t seem to bother him. 

I can’t help but frown at the side and I don’t understand why would people hang onto something which forced them out, but instead I see a guy walk out, said Guardian under his arm, and smile briefly, looking at my companion. He’s much shorter than us and his skin is also a few shades darker, evidence of some long tan and he walks up to him, a dark blue coat which seems to stick out even here. 

“Hey, Al.” And he stretches a packet of cigarettes as the nurse takes one and the man’s attention is shifted towards me, as Alex greets him. He keeps looking at me, a bit too intimately and he glances at my chest, which is fucking well binded and my coat is over it, so I do give out a flat impression and I just stick my head closer to my scarf as he just shrugs and inhales, glancing back at Al.

“I’m Miles.” I say, causing both of them to glance at me and I just want to slap my gender before anything else is presumed and Alex just smiles, lightly, the other man lighting his cigarette as his dark eyes are still looking at me, not a glare, but something far too untrustworthy seems to be glued to my forehead which causes him concern. 

“Jamie.” The man says and looks down at his cigarette. I could nag about his gender neutral name, but I don’t, a bit too used of throwing back “compliments” at people who seem to think that something is wrong with me, so I point them out that maybe something about them is just as queer as I am. I feel a bit insecure as I look at him cleanly shaved and hair clearly styled and the coat, which seems a bit too much of a female fit, but he seems to be comfortable in his own shoes, while he catches me on the fact, that I don’t. 

We both take a side from Alex, as he seems to be the middle ground, as we start walking already out, the bridges in sight and soon enough the train station. We all keep our silence. 

“Miles, this is...”

“I’m Alex’s ex.” He interrupts bitterly, his heavy gaze now on Alex, who just starts searching his jacket pockets for the train ticket, as we all swiftly follow and I feel the blood in my ears pulsing.

He’s into men. 

Alex is into men.

But would he count me as one?

I feel myself grow cold and even shiver lightly as I wrap the gray scarf tighter around me, wishing I still thought it was cold enough to bring gloves. 

And Jamie is into men, as well.

It feels unsettling to see him with the Guardian, which is later passed onto me, like a muffler as he whispers something into Alex’s ear, his eyes still holding a cold stare, as if he’s with a hammer trying to shatter my wall to reveal me naked, but he sees me already and in the train I end up flicking it over, trying to block my mind with one poison to the other, as I flick through pages, which speak of different things and I keep flicking, my throat clogging up and I see people like me, graze the pages, an outbreak of transphobia and it feels like some sad irony to remind myself of how much I’m not wanted back home and I try to clog up memories of traveling to different small art stores and before leaving, how weird it felt not having a student ID anymore.

Jamie keeps looking at me, unbuttoning his coat, glancing at Alex who keeps looking at the darkness behind the windows. 

I look up to drop up at our Slutstation, which literally means last station and once we jump off, a man takes off his hat, mocking and I just see Jamie rolls his eyes as Alex smirks, as if all three have held hands once to realize that neither of them were lovers to the other and once I glance at the new man’s dark eyes something dark seems to yank me, like the hidden crack in the deja vu and I hear the noise of a train and I turn around to hear nothing.

Alex is into men.

The new man now exchanges cigarettes with the other three and I wonder if there is some hidden catch, behind the three, but no deja vu feeling came with Jamie who once I glance harshly exhales his smoke, throwing his arm around the new man, kissing his cheek as Alex awkwardly shuffles his feet and they all turn, as if torn to the escalator. 


Sorry, I've had this written for quite a while and I'm finishing the next chapter actually xD and it's nice to be in Stockholm where the story is set, it's good to be back XD and I can walk around, like today me and Callie passed the 7/11 where Al bought the pick and mix again xD 

I didn't post it because I figured that the prologue should really show Jamie, Alex and Jack better and yeah I wanted to post the first chapter of it as well :D 

Well, I fortune tell and I've been fortune told and it's weird to know what awaits you, yet soothing so yeah Miles confusion is quite understandable xD 

Originally Miles was going to meet Jamie and Jack in Alex's apartment but the idea was shifted. 

The bookstore doesn't have anything really and yeah, it exists and has a section dedicated to the Beats which is lovely though:) and the poster exists xD and the fact that they sell the Guardian, which I guess for me sticks out as someone who lived in the UK would want to buy and read, frankly I never liked it and I had to do a bunch of coursework on it which was quite boring because analyzing their articles from a writing perspective. And yeah, there's enough photos of Jamie with the Guardian xD 

Of course I had to shamelessly mention that Jamie is a nice gender neutral name, because it is XD :P and yeah, I have this thing for Jamie's double breasted female section coats :3 which he always wears pretty much. 

And Jack briefly shows up:3

I hope you enjoyed it as well, I just love the fact that Miles is trans and yeah, we should really stick more non-cis characters and myself as well. I dunno, I just really love this story and yeah :3

Please tell me if you enjoyed it as well as I was quite anxious, I mean, this is the only non-cis milex story so yeah:3 


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