(damaged boys) 4

There were five of them in the row of townhouses, and underneath the sheen of public normalcy and personal success lived the gaping damage within.
Marcus & Ben
Marcus was, at first glance, the complete picture of fitness and masculinity. He was tall, well-muscled and lean. His thick chestnut hair was cropped short. He could dazzle anyone with a flash of his brilliant white smile and twinkle of his exotic green eyes. He was very social, played rugby and soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter and baseball all spring and summer. He was aggressive and competitive in nature, but not at all disliked.

In fact, Marcus had a constant swarm of people around him day and night…waiting for the next witty comment…waiting for him to smile upon them. Waiting to be the object of his favour. The guys at work considered him a god – after all, he outsold them all three to one, and was the highest producer in the region for phamaceutical sales. The women at work considered him a gift from God – after all, he had never slept with any of them and not called the next day. Marcus was a winner.
And…there was a deep and enduring sadness which was barely traceable…
When he reached home that evening after rugby practice, his Yellow Lab, Moby, greeted him at the door…his nails clicking loudly on the tilework in the foyer.
“Hey good boy! How’s my best dog? How’s Moby?!”
Moby continued to dance excitedly until Marcus let him out to run in the fenced backyard. He ran three complete laps until catching the scent of something fascinating near the hydrangea. Marcus checked his messages. One from his sister, and one from Daniel next door, wondering if he would be attending the local Republican fundraiser tomorrow night. No he would not. He grabbed Sam Adams Pale Ale and sauntered into the den. Sinking into the deep cushions of the couch, he flicked on Sports Center to catch up on the scores, and fell immediately asleep.
Marcus woke with a start to the sound of Moby barking at the door. He turned off the television, let the dog inside and headed upstairs to bed. Moby darted up the stairs past him, and into the bedroom. He completed his evening ablutions as if competing on an agility course…face, teeth, contact lenses, undress. This evening, he caught a glimpse of himself naked in the mirror…not believing it was really him…realizing he had never really looked at himself. Not recognizing the person looking back at him.
He pulled back the covers and slipped quietly asleep.
Ben
Ben was already five minutes late when he considered phoning Marcus. They were due at the gym at 5:30 and he needed just five more minutes to get ready. At a modest 5’8″ Ben worried constantly about his appearance, although he thought nothing of mowing the lawn in little more than shorts and Birkenstocks…with athletic socks. He had jet black hair which was kept at medium length. It looked stylishly tousled or coiffed depending on the circumstances. Like Corey, he made a zealous commitment to hitting the gym daily. He was in top shape, nicely muscled, but not bulky. Ben was a little jealous of Marcus’ natural looks…his relaxed style and his delicious masculinity, but spending twice a week in the gym with him was more than enough to make up for it. He loved spending the time with Marcus, even if not a word was spoken.
He’d spent many mornings in the gym spotting Marcus on the bench press, or running quietly, contemplatively next to him on the treadmill. The pounding of shoes and the whir of the motor droning delivered them into another zone together, and Ben relished every moment. He’d wondered why next-door neighbors could be so close, but not really know very much about each other at all. He thought they should really change that. He’d have to invite him over for dinner and to watch the game sometime. Maybe they could shoot pool. Marcus liked pool, yes, he was certain of it. He’d heard stories about Marcus and his work friends going to Cues on Friday nights. He caught himself imagining Marcus half-bent over the pool table preparing for a tough shot. But Ben was already late as it was. He needed to get next door before Marcus left without him.
It was 2:30am and he needed to be up at 5 to go to the gym with Ben. Marcus had been tossing and turning all night worried about the same stupid stuff he’d always worried about: finances, his family and doing what was expected of him. He’d grown weary of always being the rock…being everyone’s rock. He grew weary of exceeding expectations, and never disappointing. It was as if he’d awaken from a long sleep to find himself living parts of everyone else’s lives. Who was he? He thought maybe it was time to get back to the shrink. He’d never told anyone before, because no one would have believed it, but he found it useful. Maybe it was time again. He’d call from the office…no…he’d call from the road, that way no one would be any the wiser. As much fun as the gang from work was, they knew everything…they listened too well, and they talked too much.
And just what was it about Ben that he’d found so intriguing? Maybe it was his silence. Yes, it was Ben’s ability to be completely still and peaceful even at the gym. Ben had never asked him what he was doing that weekend, who he was dating or where he was going. Ben wasn’t enamored with Marcus…everyone’s good-time buddy. No, it was easy being around Ben. And while he knew Ben was a good six inches shorter, he still had strength and great endurance…he’d be a holy menace on the rugby field. He’d have to remind himself to ask Ben if he’d like to come to rugby sometime. Come to think of it he might be good at soccer and basketball… Marcus drifted back into a fitful slumber.
Ben rang the doorbell for the third time. He looked at his watch…5:40am. There were no lights on. He wondered if Marcus had left without him. No, he would have seen my lights, Ben told himself. He rang the bell again, and heard Moby start barking and another muffled sound from within…a muffled stream of obscenities as Marcus tore down the stairs to the front door.
“Ben, I am so sorry…I totally overslept…gimme just a minute to throw on my sweats.”
“No problem, I was running behind schedule today, too.”
“I slept for shit last night. Kept waking up.”
“God, I hate that.”
“Yeah, couldn’t get back to sleep, and when I finally do…I’m in a coma and don’t hear my alarm.”
“I though maybe you left without me.”
“Nah, just couldn’t get my lazy ass outta bed is all. Ready?”
“Yep, let’s hit it.”
Marcus and Ben slipped into the Audi and drove into the pitch black morning, each with a question on his lips…