Mayora Body

      I have lost it, totally lost it. No way back now. For weeks I can't bring myself to check my phone, I can't open the group messages. Not anymore.

     It has been three weeks since Mayora confessed his romantic attractions toward Timbo, and things have not been well for Mayora. He can't get it out of his head. All the words are playing on a loop inside his brain, time and time again.

     He kept it to himself, not risking any chances. He has not even had any contact with Timbo since. His works are barely affected, thankfully. Things could get from bad to worse if he can't perform his job properly and to the worst if he gets fired because of it.

     Unlike the troubled Mayora, Timbo shows no sign of being conflicted. His regular social media posts are no different from before although his previous posts are mostly club-related activities and the post captions are pretty generic. 

     The bane of being an athlete, I guess. You cannot act to your heart's content anymore. Never mind the 'morally correct thing to do' or 'be a good image to the young one' , a more personal issue is sponsorship and contractual obligations. Serious stuff if you never paid attention to it before. Act wrongly and you have hefty fines to pay.

     As Mayora thought about Timbo's situation as an athlete slipped into his mind, the vivid image of them together at the coffeeshop in the rain played like it just happened. Mayora felt his heart beating faster. A sharp pain on his stomach. The side of his head felt pressured, as if squeezed by a big large hand. Timbo's hand perhaps?

     "Damn. Is confessing not enough?!" Mayora muttered to himself, one hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his own heat.

     In the midst of his self loathing, there is a knock on his front door. A surprised Mayora quickly regained self-control and washed his face. He had no idea who's visiting his apartment, his work performance is still within tolerance, not enough to warrant a visit from the Human Resources. He did not make any promise to anyone nor did anyone say they will be visiting.

     Keeping his head in check, he walked to the door. Took a glance from the peephole, and opened the door with a slight smile on his face.

     "Yo, Berrymore. What's up?"

     "Mayora, we are concerned about you. It has been weeks since you said something on the group chat. Are you in trouble? We can't contact your phone either" beyond the door was Berrymore, the only married gamer in their group. He looked visibly anxious.

     It was by his own fearfulness that Mayora decided to stop answering calls from his friends. He did not throw away his phone or anything due to the slim chance of there being a call from his boss or colleagues, instead he just muted all kinds of notifications and blissfully ignored any calls coming from his high school gaming buddies.

     In the end, the group worried to the point that Berrymore opted to visit Mayora personally.

     "Sorry to give you guys trouble. I am in the middle of something that has been taking a huge chunk of my mental health" Mayora tried to cover his own tracks with white lies. It was not completely false, but kept vague enough to keep Berrymore from correctly guessing.

     "That sounds rough. Yamza proposed that we watch Timbo's next game together, how about that? Well, he proposed this but Yamza himself said he won't be coming. Typical from the doctor" between the four others in the group, Mayora is indeed the closest with Berrymore and Mizert, the trio came from the same high school.

     "That sounds good. Does Timbo know about this?" Mayora asked the important question, his heart started pounding hard again. Fortunately Berrymore didn't notice anything noteworthy and answered innocently "Yeah, he agreed and promised to give us some extra treatment, like those famous actors when they are doing a collaboration video" Mayora understood what he meant and nodded, he agreed to watch Timbo's next game together.

     As Mayora watched Berrymore's back diffuse into the distance, he locked his door and threw his back to the wall. His knees are barely holding up, he can not hold his excitement. Like a child on Christmas eve observing the loads of wrapped presents under the Christmas tree, waiting to be opened.

     He was glad to have the opportunity to see Timbo again, for he was scared to ask Timbo by himself. At the same time, he could sense the dread of seeing eye to eye again with Timbo with the last meeting being his romantic confession.

     There are some days until the fateful day, I should prepare myself for each scenario that might happen.

     What kind of scenarios? Mayora prepared himself for the situation if Timbo is showing signs of discomfort; if Timbo tried to downplay the confession stuff; and lastly due to it being the most improbable, if Timbo actually returns the feeling, in other words the attraction is mutual. Everyone can dream their ideal scenarios.

     With some wishful thinking, Mayora played countless simulations on his head until he had a good grasp of how everything was going to work out, down to the miniscule details.

     I am prepared for this, nothing can faze me. Nothing can throw me off the track.

     As the race between Mayora's preparations and the fated day drew closer, he was finally able to, albeit slowly, get a grip and claw his way back to his normal-old life.

     His sleepless nights slowly decrease by the day, his phone no longer a terrifying object, his group chat feels like a safe place once again. 

     He woke up feeling fresh and ready. There are so many ways today could turn out but he is ready to face all the possibilities.

     Total difference from how he was the past few weeks, he was humming while showering and eating breakfast.

     "Man hanging out really is the best" Berrymore commentating his own experiences as he adjusts his sunglasses and hat. 1 PM really has a rough brightness.

     "Thank you guys once again for inviting me, I think this really helps me"

     "No worries, we were concerned about you, Mayora"

     The group are seated high on the stands, but this stadium is small enough that they don't need binoculars to enjoy the match. That being said, Berrymore still brought binoculars.

     "Oh here they come!" Mayora exclaimed excitedly as the players walked up to the pitch. Cheers flooded the atmosphere around them. Being his first ever live spectating, Mayora is understandably taken by the mood and suddenly his surroundings are nothing but blurred and void.

     All of his attention was funneled to the pitch, with the point of focus being Timbo in his game-day uniform. A slim-fitted predominantly white shirt with subtle silver linings spanning across horizontally sculpting Timbo's muscular body. Complemented with a similarly white bright pants and big red socks, Timbo looks as good as any top-level athlete.

     Mayora is visibly hooked to the view, unable to hear Berrymore and Mizert who's trying to strike a conversation. In the end they talked to each other while Mayora was busy enjoying the view by himself.

     The game went on for hours. The trio took turns for bathroom breaks and snack runs. The intense sun also died down towards the end of the game.

     They chatted, joked, took pictures, and laughed together. During these moments, Mayora forgot all the doubts and worries he had for the past few weeks.

     Time stood still, giving this happy moment a seemingly eternal life. No troubled past, no nauseating future, only this present moment that matters.

     The game ended with Timbo's side winning by quite a margin. While the 6-2 scores show a comfortable win for Timbo and his team, he did not perform to the levels he had hoped.

     As the fans gradually left the stands and out into the streets, Mayora and the others stayed behind. They were contacted by Timbo to do so. 

     Time went by and the stands are starting to look empty. Timbo has yet to show up.

     "Let's calm down everyone. Timbo said he will come to us. I haven't received a message from him since, but let's just wait here as instructed" Berrymore tried to defuse the situation by reassuring everyone.

     They waited for a few more minutes, the stands are practically empty except for some staff sweeping the debris and leftover foods.

     "Timbo!!" Mayora called in excitement, startling the spacing out Berrymore and the phone-focused Mizert.

     "Sorry everyone, the changing room celebrations took longer than expected. Thanks for coming guys, shame Yamza can't make it" Timbo arrived in baggy casual attire, his wide shoulders barely visible now, a total difference from his game attributes. He also wore a golden chain necklace, embedded on his tanned muscular neck.

    "It's okay. Coming here and seeing you win is worth the efforts by hundreds fold" Mayora could barely contain his excitement from meeting Timbo in the flesh. If Berrymore and Mizert were not present, Mayora might have ran towards Timbo and hugged him.

     The group followed their guide and listened closely as Timbo showed them around. He led them to the usually restricted areas such as the media room and the broadcast room. The media room is usually used for interviews and other publications, while the broadcast room contains the big camera used to televise the game and its equally big control panel.

     Timbo did give them VIP treatments as he promised. He's kind of awkward in some places he was not totally familiar with, but overall the tour was smooth and lively.

     They finished the tour with dinner on an Italian restaurant just outside the stadium. It was dusk by the time they left the stadium but they arrived just before rush hour and managed to acquire a decent table.

     As the waiter brought 4 pastas and a medium sized of the restaurant's signature Margherita Pizza to their tables, Mizert was the first to speak up. He intended to go home directly after eating because he was dead tired and might collapse soon due to the excessive walking. He almost fell asleep too just after sitting down. 

     After dinner, Berrymore offered to drive Mizert, which the latter gladly accepted. He immediately tucked in and slept while riding shotgun.

     Leaving him alone with Timbo, Mayora is having a hard time opening a conversation. He is just happy to see Timbo in the flesh, smiling while savoring the moment.

     Timbo strikes first, and he strikes hard right on target.

     "Sorry, Mayora, but I think I need to talk to you. Something about what you said to me during our last meeting"

     Unconsciously, the smile faded away from Mayora's face. His eyes widened and heartbeats picked up the pace.

     Waiting for the inevitable doom, Mayora was preparing all sorts of apologies. Him confessing to his close friends in a surprising manner is definitely something he blames himself on.

     "When you confessed to me-" as Timbo was speaking his mind, Mayora cut him off while turning away his face and facing toward the booth, unable to look towards Timbo directly.

     "I AM SORRY. I AM SO SO SORRY. IT WAS SO OUT OF LINE. I SHOULD HAVE NOT SAID THAT, NOT DURING THAT TIME, NOT EVER" Mayora was practically crying, but he tried to keep his voice down from attracting attention from other diners.

     Timbo tried to calm down the frantically apologizing Mayora, but to no avail. Mayora cannot and will not face Timbo.

     Not getting anything out of this and running out of options, Timbo decided to scoot over besides the panicking Mayora.

     Mayora, still covering his face, can sense the movement and now cowering his head to the point its almost level with the table.

     He was out of tears but still cannot face Timbo. His breath was slow and heavy. Arms locked in place, protecting his face from Timbo's view. Timbo decided to use the last resort.

     "Mayora, please listen to me for a moment" Timbo pleaded to Mayora as he moved even closer to the cowering Mayora and hugged him from the side.

     This shocked Mayora to the core, he immediately dropped his arm. His mouth agape and he finally turned his face toward Timbo, only to find the man who hugged him already buried his face deep into Mayora's shoulder.

     Mayora could hear subtle mumbling from Timbo, but he cannot focus on anything other than his own heartbeat.

     Its beating so fast and hard, Mayora could feel his chest heating up. Moreover, Timbo is there hugging him so dearly. He could definitely sense Mayora's troubled heart.

     The taller Timbo had to hunch himself in order to hug Mayora properly. His taller and bigger body trying to hug the smaller Mayora is awkward to witness.

     Timbo released his hug, moved both of his hands to each of Mayora's stiff shoulders and turned Mayora around so he faced Timbo in the face.

     "Listen, it must have taken quite a toll on you for saying that. At first I don't know what to say, but as I watched you suffered alone, I think the right thing to say-"

     Mayora was barely listening, his vision blurry, his ear ringing. He was not in the right state of mind to be having a conversation.

     Noticing Mayora's blank expression, Timbo shaken Mayora's shoulder. The sudden jolt prompted Mayora back to earth, and within a moment's notice he leaned forward with a tilted head and kissed Timbo right on the spot.

     The kiss lasted for a second or so, but it felt like an eternity to Mayora. The eavesdropping waitresses and other patrons exhaled in surprise.

     It was Mayora the first to let go, he immediately stood up and left the scene. Timbo was frozen on the spot. They parted ways without a single word being spoken.

     A concerned waitress walked towards Timbo, tray in hands. Few other staff from the cashier counter are visibly watching while huddling together.

     "Is everything alright, sir?"

     "Ye.... yes, everything is alright. Can I get the check please?"

     "Sure, one moment please" the waitress walked away, leaving Timbo who tried to gather himself and sit uptight.

     Upon returning to Timbo's table, the waitress brought a male staff member with her. The male staff was impeccably dressed to the toe. Timbo greeted them with an apology.

     "I am very sorry to cause a scene, please let me pay the whole thing and more"

     "No sir, that is not necessary. Our restaurant are neither conservatives nor religious. We do not condemn such matters, especially since no damage was done. As the general manager of this establishment, I decided to waive your bills. Have a good day sir and may everything turned out okay"

     The general manager's decisions left Timbo speechless as he lifelessly dragged his feet outside. He can only bow without saying another word on the way out.

     Outside, he was greeted by the purple evening sky. With a sliver of clouds running in the sky like strokes of paint brush, Timbo took a deep and long breath before heading home.