He’d never been angry about his fooling around before. This time was different though. This time he was falling in love.
Louis could tell. Louis spooned against his lover, who was already at the edge of the bed. Louis felt him shift, then get off the futon and head into the bathroom.
“Jacques?” Louis called, and Jacques did not turn around. Louis hung his head down, almost defeated. He got up and went to Jacques’ Iphone and while he heard the shower running, he checked through his recent calls. Henri. Henri. Ursala. Henri.
It couldn’t be Henri from the bar. It couldn’t be. Henri was so…old. Louis was in his prime. Twenty-three, with a body from a gym, he had abs you could bounce quarters off of, full pecs and a broad back. Jacques was lucky to have him.
Yet he had caught Jacques a couple of times in the deep recesses of the bar, fondling and making out with some men. Louis found it a turn on, because this meant all that Jacques was doing was getting these men hot and bothered, and he was coming home to him. To him.
He heard the shower go off and he put the phone down, setting it to a neutral screen. It was a Sunday morning. Louis got into his boxers and went to the kitchen to get Jacques’ favorite meal – an all-meat omelet with Parmesan cheese. He was just getting started when Jacques’ came down and, without a good morning kiss or anything whatsoever, headed over to his jacket against the wall. “I’ll be back tonight,” he said, and walked out the door.
Louis stared for a moment, just stared at that door, fury rising. He slammed the spatula down on the half cooked eggs, and then tore the frying pan from the stove, throwing it across the studio apartment. Eggs smeared across the leather couch, and the pan bounced off it, leaving a mark. He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the tears on his lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The War Room was a gay bar, with some bi-curious goths thrown in for good measure. Louis had started drinking the minute they opened, which was around four in the afternoon, so by seven he was two sheets to the wind and by the time he saw Jacques walk in, he was smashed.
He hadn’t gotten off the stool in two hours and he really needed to take a piss. However he knew that if he got off the stool, he would tumble to the floor. Instead, he yelled for Jacques, who blinked at him and walked up to him. “Are you all right?” he asked over the din of the club.
“You fuckin’ love him, don’cha?” Louis slurred.
“Who? What?”
“Don’ lie to me! You lied too much!” Louis put his hand in the pocket of his jacket and rested it against Jacques. Jacques’ eyes widened, feeling something hard and pointed against his abdomen. “Henri,” Louis said with a snarl.
“Louis, I–”
The gunshot ran out over the noise of the club, and men screamed like little girls, ducking and running for the door. Louis stood over Jacques, pulling the trigger over and over, until click, click, click was in his pockets.
That’s when the bouncers took him down.
From:
Fryman, Clifford (2011-04-29). StoryStarters (Kindle Locations 373-374). Tin Palace Press. Kindle Edition.