This story is fictional. I wrote it as an exercise. My friend gave me two names, a place, an occupation, and various details. I put them together into a story.
This is the first story I have posted on Nifty. Depending on how it is received, I may post a few more. There is sex later on in the story if you are wondering. I welcome any comments to twinkchaser@excite.com.
Thanks, Craig!
My name is Brendan Allen. I am an average guy, at 5'8", 170 lbs, with blue eyes and dark brown hair. I am not extremely handsome, and I really don't care. I resigned myself to loneliness at a young age and never worked to change it. I never dated in school. I spent most of my time at the library reading. I am not a particularly smart person, but I do enjoy a good book.
I knew I was different, and that it would be hard for me to find happiness. Instead of bolstering me into action, it beat me into submission. I did what I had to do, and nothing more. There I sat, reading of things I would never do or see, and not really caring.
I grew up in Maine. Luckily I was born in Bangor. It is not that small a city. I grew up rather sophisticated, if not rich. My family never had a lot of money. Both my mother and father worked, where most people do, at the Silverwood candy factory on the corner of Fifth and Vine. We lived on Pier St., so it wasn't far to walk. I barely finished high school, so college wasn't much of an option. I ended up the last place I wanted to be, as a line worker in the chocolate section of the factory. Some people would think it a good job, to be around candy all day. I would rather have had any other job.
I spent my days staring at candy coming down the line. I watched thousands of pieces go by in a steady stream. I, along with several other people, looked for pieces that didn't look good. We took them off the line and someone else replaced them. We could eat them if we wanted, but that got old faster than you think.
I was about to turn 21 on the ninth of May, and I didn't think anyone knew or cared. My mom and dad knew, but I never mentioned it to the few friends I had. I was thinking of going to a bar and getting really drunk. This sounded really good, so I planned it for the Saturday after the ninth. I didn't tell my friends or family. I figured it was my day.
One evening as I sat reading at my favorite table in the library, I saw a young man looking at the stacks. He was about my height and build but his hair was black. He was looking at the Dean Koontz novels. I was reading Icebound at the time. He pulled One Door Away from Heaven from the shelf. I hadn't read it yet, I had just discovered Koontz. He read the dust jacket and then stuck the book under his arm. I couldn't look back at my book. I was mesmerized by the man who stood before me.
"How you like it," he asked. I hadn't even realized he had caught me staring.
"What," I asked thickly. He smiled and pointed at my forgotten book. "Oh, yeah, it's good."
"I have read it. I am quite a fan." His smile radiated warmth over me. I could feel him from across the table. My stomach twisted and churned but I barely noticed. I basked in his glow, and enjoyed his grin.
"I just started this one," I said, closing my book, and motioning for him to sit with me.
"Oh, no, I didn't mean to interrupt you," he said, quickly, his smile fading as he took a step back. I panicked at the thought of him leaving me. I stood up and moved around the table.
"No," I said a bit too loud. I blushed and cringed at my own voice. The librarian gave me a stern look. I extended my hand to him. "I am Brendan, nice to meet you."
"I'm Mitch," he returned as he took my hand. I melted at his touch, and swam in his emerald green eyes. I just stood holding his hand until I felt him pull it away.
"Please sit," I said motioning to the chair across from mine. He smiled and pulled the chair out and sat down. I slid down into my own chair and fiddled with the books in front of me. He just smiled at me and laid his novel on the table.
"So, I don't think I have seen you in here before," I said, knowing I had never seen this beautiful man before. I couldn't believe I was thinking these things. I was unsure of what I was feeling. It was new to me, and I was a little confused. I knew I felt good, but that is all I was sure of.
"No, I just moved here. I thought I would check out the library and look around town. To tell the truth, I have spent most of the day looking for a job." He looked at me waiting for me to speak. I sat dumbly, memorizing his face. The meaning of what he said sunk in, and my mind finally started working.
"Oh; really? Where did you move from?" I knew there was something else in my mind, but I couldn't focus.
"I moved here from California. I had some things go wrong in my life and I decided to get away. I went as far as a bus could take me," he finished and laughed at his little joke. I laughed a little too, but still stared into his eyes. The spark of realization finally hit me, and I gasped. He looked up at me suddenly.
"Sorry, I just thought of something. There is a job opening where I work. I am sure I could get you the job. What kind of job were you looking for?" I sat waiting nervously for him to answer me. He looked at me thoughtfully before he answered.
"I'll take anything," he answered. "What is the job?"
"Um, a quality checker on the chocolate line." He looked at me with a puzzled look. I just smiled and wrote the address of the factory on a slip of paper. "Show up in the morning and say you're a friend of mine. I know the lady in personnel."
"Wow, thanks," he said as he took the slip. His hand touched mine and we both just smiled.