Impossible

Connor Temple can't get a guy. He wasn't going to meet one at a rally, a club, a party, anywhere. It was impossible. Becker/Connor

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So I was in Rome this past weekend, and there was a gay rally going on. I don't remember what the tour was called, but it apparently goes all over the world. Lady Gaga was there, but I didn't see her. I did get to enjoy the parade, however. It was really fun!

Yay for school trips fortuitously planned!

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It was impossible.

He hadn't even wanted to go. He was too socially awkward for big events, he'd said. He might meet someone, she'd countered. It was impossible. It was impossible.

You didn't go to gay parades to meet guys. It was stupid. But she hadn't let him stay home. So he was standing on the side of the street as multicolored floats streamed slowly by, each one with a different theme by a different group or club. They'd thrown beads and flowers and flyers and glitter and every last one had hit him like he was a target.

"Abby! There's glitter in my vest!" he complained. There was glitter everywhere, actually, but the vest was the problem. It was getting in the pockets, and he'd never get it out.

"Oh don't worry so much!" Abby shouted back over the din of the music blaring from the float passing by. "You pull off sparkling very well!"

Connor pouted. He tilted his trilby down a fraction and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he gave a good vision of discontent. He was not having fun. There were gay guys and gay girls all over, but either they were taken or they were weird. Or they were straight, like Abby. Connor didn't want someone into whips or funny costumes. He didn't want a guy who cross dressed. He just wanted…

Well, he kinda wanted Abby's fiancé. But no one was ever going to know that. He was still ashamed of it.

Stephen tolerated Connor and the gay community, but he wasn't singing its praises. That's why Abby had brought Connor instead of Stephen to the rally. He was nice though, and had rarely said a bad word about Connor's chosen "lifestyle." In fact, he spoke more against his lack of one.

Connor was, by all rights, a hermit. He sat at his computer and played MMORPGS. He researched conspiracy theories and wrote books about them. He was actually kind of popular too. He wrote computer programs and sold them. He didn't party. He didn't hang out. He just was.

Apparently Abby was determined to change that. Connor almost regretted their "best friend" code.

"Connor, look!" Abby shouted as she danced to the music.

He lifted his head to the oncoming float. It was Egyptian themed. Half naked men were dancing, decked out like ancient pharaohs. Women wore flowing, mostly see through outfits and shook their hips. They were all hot. Connor knew that. But he still refused to entertain the idea that he could possibly date one of them. They were hot, he was a nerd, and they were on a float. There was no way he'd ever meet them personally. It was impossible.

"Oh wow," he let out, uncrossing his arms. The music toned him out and Abby didn't hear.

At the front of the Egyptian float, in a large chair facing backward, was the hottest guy Connor had ever seen. He was dressed like the dancing men, but he was just sitting in the throne and looking around like he really was pharaoh surveying his kingdom. If Connor looked close enough, he could tell that the guy wasn't being stern or mean; he was bored. For some reason, the thought made Connor smile.

The guy turned his head, brown hair lying perfectly under his faux-gold crown band, and seemed to spot Connor in the crowd. He stopped looking around and stared in Connor's direction. Connor looked around at the people around him. Was that hot guy really looking at him? When he looked back, the guy was smiling.

Connor blushed and the guy's smile grew. No way.

It was impossible.

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…

A month passed. He said he'd proved his point. You did not go to parades to meet guys. It was stupid. It was impossible.

He read books on old bones and dinosaurs. He watched movies about deep space and time travel. He wrote a blog no one probably read. But he went to a few clubs with Abby. He did a bit more than just exist.

Against his will.

So he was standing in a crowded room. Music blared from speakers throughout the house. Everyone had a drink or two.

"Abby?" he called out and but it was lost in the din of the crowd.

He didn't want to be here. He should be back at the apartment finishing up a program James Lester had ordered. He shouldn't be here, at a party for a girl he didn't know, standing with people he'd never met.

Abby had vanished. So had Stephen. Connor didn't know anyone else. The smell of alcohol was thick in the air. He crossed his arms and frowned at the world. He wanted to go home, but it was impossible without Abby.

"You know, you always seem upset," a smooth voice breathed into his ear.

Connor flipped around like lightening, rubbing his ear, ready to yell at whomever had snuck up on him. He stopped. Perfect brown hair; dark eyes; hotter than ever in normal clothes.

The man smiled. "I knew I recognized you."

Connor gaped. "You're-"

A nod. "I'm Becker. Hilary Becker," he clarified holding out a hand.

Connor opened and shut his mouth a few times before any sound came out. "Temple," he responded at length, taking Hilary's hand and shaking it as firmly as he could. "Connor Temple." Hilary nodded, committing it to memory. "You don't cross-dress, do you?"

Hilary actually snorted. "No. My parents were expecting a girl, so they only had girl names picked out," he explained loudly over the music.

Connor nodded. He smiled, his awkward nerves lifting away, still holding Hilary's hand. "Do you wanna…I don't know…dance with me?"

Hilary smiled again, something quaint and sweet. "I'd like nothing more."

You don't meet guys at parades. Connor couldn't get a guy because he didn't have a social life. He'd never see the guy from the float again; the one that made his heart flutter and his knees weak. It was impossible.

Anything is possible

...

Fin.

Let me know what you think. Let me know if you were at the parade too!