La Vie Avec Royce

Written August 2009
By: John Alejandro


“John! Here he comes!” my best woman whispered in excitement.

“Oh my god, he looks stunning...” I replied rosy cheeked and beaming.

“He is really hot. Too bad he’s gay” Karen joked around.

“Too bad he’s mine! I can’t stop shaking my jaw…”

“I don’t want you to be even more nervous, but security says that your mom and dad are seated in the back row.”

“Huh…they came…?”

Between the dozens of white umbrellas flanking the purple carpet, Royce glided effortlessly through the petal scattered floor. Carrying a simple provincial smirk with added layers of sophistication and pomp, he blinked his sweet almond eyes to tacitly say hi. His grace, features, and culture derive immeasurable unholy power and more influence than military force. As a mutt, Royce inherited Japanese almond eyes, a youthful Taiwanese facial structure, Caucasian rouge on his cheeks, and my favorite a sinewy Brazilian body. A hundred feet away, I laid my eyes on his feet unconsciously thinking that I am not worthy enough. Every day I ask fate what I’ve done to deserve such a beautiful and virtuous person. Every day I fail in coming up with an answer. All I know is that we value the same things and are grateful for each other. He scanned the room to acknowledge parties that are present, still a politician even at his wedding; an elitist but a people of the masses.

To our instruction, a traditional walk of the bride will not be played. Instead, an instrumental version of “Save Room” on piano and strings stabbed through the silence as Royce began his walk. Every inch he came closer I felt my heart beating faster. He carried himself elegantly through segments of white chairs adorned with summer flowers at the end of each row. He is a welcome tachycardia and the only addiction that can kill me. The weight of his feet crinkled the carpet above the grass. I could feel every step with a thud in my chest. Every sway of his arm sent sonic booms flying across the aisle, reverberating as little puffs of air on my face. I then only paid attention to the pruned lady who walked Royce, locked in her arm. Srixati, was his kind grandmother whom he loved very much. As they reached the end of the carpet that transformed into marbled steps, Srixati turned to Royce and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

She then turned to me and said “take care of him for me.”

“Salaam. Until the day I die nana…How’s your girlfriend?” I answered

“Still a fox. She’s here and very happy for you two.” She whispered to my ear.

“You know…you two give us ideas about marriage too”

“Never too late to come out of the closet right nana?”

Upon nodding, she left to her seat.

Pssst. Huy. Royce jokingly called to the engrained Filipino inside me.

I faced him.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks.

Shit, shit fuck, still there! With eyes closed I tapped my feet incessantly.

Seconds passed, but one after another they felt like an interwoven century. I didn’t know which of my two organs would erupt first; my duodenum bursting out of my mouth because of the butterflies inside my stomach or my sphincter creating diamonds from the overwhelming intensity. This felt surreal. Several key failures and very awkward moments define my love life and suddenly this seemed too good to be true. He renewed me and shed all of the past away. I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath. I inhaled, but not too much that I will suck in the precious jewel in front of me. This must be a dream…this must be made up by some sadist writer. I am a puppet with loosely held strings displaying free-will only to be tugged when my will contradicts his. When I open my eyes he’ll be gone and I will only have imagined this.

“Would you like to have coffee sometime?” I asked in sweet hesitation.

“I’d love to…Would you like to have coffee now?”

“What? Now? But we just worked out!”

“That’s okay I have a couple of extra shirts…there’s a small café beside the museum”

“Sure.” I smiled in declining anxiety. “What’s your name?”

“I’m yours… I mean I’m Royce. What’s yours?”

“Johnny”

“That’s a cute name. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Little did he know the pleasure was all mine.

We giggle for a little bit not knowing we’ve stopped traffic on the gym’s stairs. It was nice for the people to let us have our moment. A total stranger. On the other hand, cute! First impressions are always important and he seemed content, stable, and didn’t appear sex-obsessed; you know…the ones with beady eyes and perpetually raised eyebrows.


I laughed pretty loudly at his sad attempt to muster an ethnic call, which led the guests to questioningly murmur. Still a politician even at his own wedding; he only did it to relieve my anxiety. At that moment, I didn’t care for protocol and how I was supposed to behave. I gave Karen the bouquet I was holding, hugged him tight, and closed my eyes. Still embraced, the judge begins to talk.

“You know we’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding! It’s bad luck!” Royce screamed.

He ran away from the doorstep, and hid behind the kitchen counter.

“Royce! We have to go! Our flight leaves in half an hour!”

“It’s a fucking fighter jet Johnny! I would hardly call it a flight! Why didn’t you ask me first if I wanted to go?!”

“Because it’s a surprise honey…I know how much you looooooove Alan Ducasse. We’re just going for dinner and in the morning we’re flying first thing in the morning.”

“…”

“It’s the Rorchester!! We’ve never had and probably will never have haute there.”

“You’re killing me…its two days before the wedding!”

Immediate reservations for the Rorchester are not common. A free ride from an ex is even rarer! I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I slowly sneaked behind the table and grabbed his feet. He covered his face in a desperate attempt to follow tradition. I kissed the opening between his pinkies and ring fingers and the barrier miraculously opened up.

“How did you get reservations?” he said in a tone of impression.

“I blew Alan Ducasse” I said chuckling.

“You cheated on me to get dinner reservations?”

“Yes.”



“Groom and groom, although I'm officiating here today, it is not truly in my power to sanctify and legitimize your relationship in any way… Because the two of you have already done that in your hearts. By joining hands right now and looking into each other's eyes, let it be known that you are joined and that this bond cannot be broken.”

We held hands and I gazed in Royce’s magnificent obsidian eyes. I was lost. Even after two years they haven’t lost their hallucinogenic effects. So much so, that I was in a trance throughout the whole ceremony.

“And now that you have stood before me and exchanged these rings and these vows, and have agreed to be married according to the laws of the state of California, it gives me gives me great pleasure to pronounce you Husbands.”

A premeditated attempt to show no care for what the world tells me to do or not to do, I spun, dipped, and kissed my husband.

The guests roared and cheered, overwhelming the judge who in futility said “You may…uh…kiss the groom…”

We run to the end of the garden. Royce stole my bouquet, turned around, almost slipped into the pond, and threw it to an eager mob. It hit his grandmother in the face, for which he would forget to apologize. In a secluded cave created by tall trees, a helicopter awaits, sent from an ambassador Royce screwed once. I carried him up the steps, which was a fairly easy thing to do since I have been at the gym at least a fifth of my wake life and density was no issue.

“Muchisimas gracias senior Alejandro-Leopold”

“Vous etes lesbian Venus monsieur Leopold-Alejandro”

The helicopter skyrocketed up into the air and headed west chasing the golden sun that began its fresh descent.

“Wow I didn’t know helicopters had a mini-bar, a cheese platter, and a dessert!” Royce said ignorantly.

“They’re poisoned. You’re old boss is trying to kill me.”

“Like in your favorite movie? If he wanted you dead, or more importantly if I you would’ve been shot at the connecting flight in Haiti. That’s where he would’ve had you shot if I didn’t reallywant to marry you.”

“You praying mantis.”

“Now come on. Try some Belgian chocolate coated marzipan.”

He places the chocolate between his lips and entices me with his eyes. I couldn’t resist. I lounged on top of him, softly kissed the corners of his mouth missing the sweet treat on purpose. I licked the nape of his shoulders, then his neck, and bit his ear. He gasped and accidentally swallowed the treat. My eyes widened to see if he was choking. He wasn’t. Still on top of him, I reclined the seat and placed his bottom lip in between mine. Remnants of chocolate tickled my taste buds as my tongue touched his. Nirvana. Then something unexpected happened. Royce pulls away and looks out into the orange horizon. I’ve learned throughout his inevitable mood swings that, like a pimple, with Royce I must wait for events to unravel on their own. I docked my jaw on his shoulder and tilted my head to his cheek in the newfound solemn air of the spacious cabin. Sobbing he kisses my forehead.

“I love you.” he said

“I know…”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen…” he sobbed as he wiped his eyes on my 800 euro fleur de lis shirt. “I have a husband instead of a wife. We won’t have kids. Everything republican and Catholic I was raised, I didn’t turn out to be…My mom and dad didn’t show up today. They didn’t even call, but you, the only stable thing in my life. I don’t ever want to lose. What kind of life will we live? How’ll we get old without grandkids? Eventually you’ll leave me…”

“Darling, you’re at a point now that you no longer need to hide. Those who still love you for who you are, they’re worth your time. Those friends will be there for us later on. Those who aren’t, will be missing out on your company. You control your own life now okay? And I promise, in any noble direction you steer your life, I will always be by your side to support and love you. Just like you have and will do for me.”

I hugged him tight. I stood up to get a napkin, sat on his lap, and ended the lives of slow running tears. I was intoxicated, not by any drug, but a unique high from a life with no trouble or misfortune. Everything was going the right way.

I widened the curtains to see the gulf emit an aquamarine glow. The helicopter was flying low and the flood lights made the fish boogie and turtles mambo.

“Hey Royce, look”

“Hmm?”

“We’re as low as the flying fish”

Thuds in succession drummed the floor.

“Hahaha they’re hitting us…stupid fish!” said the one who lightened up.

“Grab a knife and I’ll skewer us some dinner”

“But we’re having dinner at the reception…We shall have cake…?” he muttered ignorantly.

My face turned sour.

Like a scolded puppy, his face droops down. Nanoseconds later a bright and shiny smile possessed him. He took his grey Dolce blazer off and guillotined me with his white tie. In a schizophrenic turn of events, I grabbed his shirt and lifted him up the side of the helicopter wall. He breathed quicker and deeper through an elongated throat. His pursed lips wriggled as I moved closer and devoured his Imperial Majesty perfume. I snarled upon reaching his neck and he melted like butter.

“Punk. Speak.”

“I want you.” He cried devilishly

“You want me? Answer me!” I shouted

“I so do…Let’s make babies!” We both giggled.

From the moment we entered through the gates of the Goldeneye resort in Jamaica, the picturesque beauty and leisurely charm of the indigenous lifestyle embraced us. Unbeknownst to me and Royce, this quaint little village will be home, at least for the next few days, for reception frivolities, mishaps, and extreme social situations. But that's for next time.