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. Spark
Ben accelerated the speed on the treadmill. Watching Marcus had become the focal point of his workouts lately, and when he wasn’t actually with Marcus, he’d fantasized about seeing him there. Watching him lift weights or run a six minute mile or smile back at him. It was so complicated, living next door to the perfect guy, the one guy he’d wanted in more than a year.
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. Company Class
It was rainy and the type of horrible November morning he’d come to hate – intensely. Between the coffee fix that didn’t work anymore and his inability to purchase the chemical enhancements which helped him deal with the day to day, Corey managed to stumble into the bathroom to ready for the day of rehearsals and the opening performance of Romeo and Juliet.
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. Disposable
It wasn’t enough that Scotty left in a fit of tears this morning, but Braden somehow needed to tell Kyle it was time to go, too. He’d been seeing both of them on and off for a month, and things were getting a little too tight for Braden’s taste. Too many close calls. Too many near misses. He dialed the phone, and when Kyle answered, Braden simply said “Come over” and disconnected.
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.
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. Corey
The timer had already kicked the coffee pot into high gear by the time Corey managed to drag himself out of bed at 5:30. He padded quietly into the bathroom to shower. The hotter, the better, he thought as he turned the faucet to full-tilt. His muscles ached the soft, delicious ache of a particularly grueling workout. His life as a dancer in the city’s premier ballet company demanded that he be in the best shape physically at all times. At 31, he was on the downhill side of his career, as year by year his cartilage wore ever thinner and less durable. He was required to lift, carry and toss ballerinas around the stage…something which had been easier when he was nineteen.
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. Daniel
Daniel had noticed Braden first when he was taking out the garbage on Friday morning. He noticed his ease of motion, Braden’s quiet, seemless poetry of movement from the garage to the curb and back. Each time, toting heavy garbage bags filled with the detritus of his life. Living with obsessive-compulsive disorder meant trash days were always robust. Daniel noticed the systematic precision as Braden moved. Although handsome, he’d never be picked out of a crowd. Daniel caught himself staring an instant too long, and found himself flushed, embarrassed.
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. Braden
Braden lived on the east end of the line of the five townhouses. His tidiness went unnoticed, except to the occasional visitor, or trick. His penchant for orderliness coupled with his obsessive-compulsive disorder made for an interesting package. At 29, he was a successful accountant, friendly and chatty…although socially awkward and inappropriate at times. His behavior ranged from general, generic politeness, to an unjustified and uncomfortable familiarity with everyone on the street. Neighbors would wave hello and then dart inside as to avoid conversation. Once trapped, you might be forced to carry on an inane discussion for the better part of an hour. It was much wiser to simply acknowledge him, and move inside. No one really knew him, but they observed him, noting his habits, his tastes and opinions. They kept a mental database. Watching. Noting.
