It has been three days since the last time Mayora left his apartment. The owner of this small but cozy living space is currently having stormy emotions raging inside.
On one hand, he cannot stop getting overjoyed from the memories and the sensation of his kiss. He was over the moon whenever he fondly remembered that event.
As awkward as it might have been, when Timbo hugged him so dearly, when their contrasting figures are so close to each other, when their lips connect.
Mayora felt nothing but utter delight every time he visualized that over and over again.
On the other hand, he was also agitated by the fact that it might have been the end of him and Timbo. Mayora saw little to no chance of them being friends anymore, much less of a lover.
Is this good enough of a reason to start a new life somewhere? Maybe. Hell, moving overseas doesn't sound so bad. I have adequate English to survive just about anywhere. I also still have some savings, tickets should be affordable.
In the rare moment of him not feeling joyous or flustered, he pondered what's next for him. Mayora concluded that his life here is basically over.
He barely ate, the last meal he had was yesterday's lunch. It was a takeout, no less. His body hardly needed, or at least it felt like it hardly needed, any nourishment.
It was his soul that was craving something. Something, anything to fill the seemingly bottomless void.
As if his soul was yearning for Timbo, Mayora felt elated everytime he thought about Timbo.
Last night, he dreamt of something other than his kiss. Naturally, Timbo was still very involved. Last night he dreamed of Timbo coming all the way here after practice and returned his feelings.
How Timbo's tired and tense muscles suddenly relaxed as they hugged amorously, how Mayora sensed the fragrance of Timbo's freshly applied cologne on his shirt, how his skin is still moist and soft due to him having a shower after practice.
Then, his dreams started getting lustful. Without a clear verbal communication, they hugged and kissed like a newlywed couple while slowly creeped towards Mayora's bed.
Mayora personally took off Timbo's baggy shirt, revealing the tanned and muscular body with a gold chain hanging around his neck.
Then he laid down on Timbo, planting his ear into Timbo's exposed chest. Mayora listened closely to the beating heart of this athlete, someone he's attracted to.
Mayora's daydreaming was cut short as he was forcibly awakened by the knocking on his door. It was a calm, constant knock lasting a good few seconds with short intervals. None of his friends knocked like that.
Mayora composed himself as he walked to the front door. He had taken unpaid time off for the time being, which was approved.
It was too soon for his friends to be worried and come over, last time it was a three weeks period of him disappearing before Berrymore visited him.
Mayora's deduction led to nowhere, and so he braced for the unknown. Knowing that he was dealing with a stranger puts him at ease. It was easier to deal with people who had nothing to expect from.
He opened the door to be greeted eagerly by a woman in a nice suit, her brown hair styled in a bun that exposed her ears and neck. It was slim and captivating, giving her an actress vibe. A natural beauty.
Behind her was a young man that looks too young to be a father, but he sports a ring on his finger. His suit was modest but proper like a typical office worker that worked in a high-rise building from 9 to 5 with regular overtime.
"Good afternoon, sir! I am Mariposa from Warrior City News and I would like to-"
The passionate woman in front of him turned out to be a news reporter. Mayora just noticed her name tag pinned on her suit's left front pocket. It has her picture and name on it.
'Clara Mariposa' written on it. Just after Mayora registered that information into his brain, he noticed something else. Something behind the pinned nametag. A round and well-shaped curvature on her suit and also her blouse underneath.
Mayora was staring at a woman's chest. An attractive and well endowed woman. But somehow this doesn't excite him. He doesn't feel any burning arousal from within.
Having seen enough, Mayora turned his attention towards the only man other than him. This baby-faced man might be an intern or her junior, he did not posseses the same air of journalism like her. And his energy level was pale in comparison to Mariposa. She was clearly dominating the space.
"May we come in, sir?"
"No, no, please do it right here. My apartment's a mess"
"Alright, sir. First question, can you confirm that you are in this photo sir?" They asked, or she asked Mayora for a few minutes to answer some questions. He never heard of the news agency so he did not think much of it.
As the woman produced some printed photographs from her suit's inside pocket and lined them up. Mayora felt a sudden burst of emotions. Most of them are unpleasant.
It was a series of photos of Mayora, with Timbo, at the Italian restaurant a few days ago. Taken from across the street. They are easily spotted due to their window seating and the good illumination.
Then it was a photo of him turning his face away from Timbo, then the following events are also photographed. Of him being hugged, being held while facing Timbo, and finally a photo of him leaving the area and frozen Timbo behind.
"Can you confirm that you are in this photo, sir? We tried asking the staff at the restaurant but they declined to give any information" Mariposa asked once again as Mayora felt his blood boiling. His previously nonchalant face now showed a clear look of displeasure.
"Our reporter on the ground was so shocked, he almost forgot to follow the leaving male, which led to this place. And then there was no sign of activities for the past days but we were so sure that nobody had left the apartment" With that, Mariposa concluded her first question and now both sets of eyes are aimed toward Mayora.
As much as Mayora tried to put up a brave front, he was sweating bullets down his back. His arms felt lifeless, unable to be moved even the slightest.
He was frozen in place, like an antelope caught in a pincer attack between 2 cheetahs. That was until some shouting was heard from the streets. The reporter's car was blocking the access to the apartment complex and someone was not happy.
The male underling excused himself to sort out the situations, giving Mayora the distractions he needed to escape the gaze of a hungry news outlet reporter.
"I am sorry, but no comment" While Mariposa had her head turned around, Mayora broke the silence as he nimbly denied to comment any further whilst closing the door on her pretty face.
Now that he was alone, the brave façade broke itself automatically. Mayora sat down with his back against the door, his head tucked down neatly between his folded knees.
He let out a big sigh, followed by a ragged breathing. At the same time, he heard an eloquent grunt from the other side of the door.
As Mariposa's heavy footsteps faded away into the distance, Mayora started to weep.
What have I dragged myself and Timbo into
He thought long and hard about, both of his fists positioned on either side of his temples like a boxer guarding his head from a barraging onslaught.
First, he must find out what is going on. Mayora reached for his phone and started searching about the latest news and gossip surrounding Timbo and his team.
At first he was relieved, nothing out of the ordinary was found. Some clips of interviews, some media day publications, fan taking pictures together, and so on.
Then his heart stopped beating for a second, it felt like said heart dropped down to the floor.
Citing personal reasons, the big hitter Timbo will be sidelined until further notice. The clubs requested the fans to respect Timbo's privacy.
The team's official post dropped the bombshell on him. The follow up haymaker soon finds its way home. The official site accounts no explicit explanations, but the fan site and other news outlets went wild with stories and rumors. One familiar brand hits too close for comfort.
EXCLUSIVE : LOCAL BASEBALL STAR TIMBO SPOTTED HAVING AN INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP WITH A MAN IN AN ITALIAN RESTAURANT NEAR THE STADIUM.
Expectedly, it was Warrior City News. The unwanted visitors who tried to sold Mayora's mishap.
With a clear thumbnail showcasing Timbo hugging questionably passionately, it drives the reader crazy. Some of the more vocal one requested the team to terminate Timbo's contract.
In this narrow-minded and devout city, everything must fall in line with some strict rules in the name of morality. Sexuality and relationships among the hot topics, brimming with debates and heated discussions.
It was no wonder some people were screaming for Timbo's head. As Mayora scrolled through the outlet's website, he noticed a pattern among other articles.
They all feed the narration of this supposedly holy and sacred city, each and every news title rounding up people's opinion towards some grey topic with one particular direction. Hostility.
And now the target was Timbo. Previously it was a headmaster from a local high school who was accused of straying from the religious path, then there was an article criticizing young women who went out after 6 PM.
It deeply troubled Mayora, seeing this kind of writing, this vile and heartless defamation. It hurts his stomach to even process the article right in front of his eyes.
I must do something, anything. First, I must apologize to Timbo
Meanwhile, Timbo was holed up inside his own apartment. His agent advised him to steer clear of any outside activities. That included groceries shopping, morning walks, running laps around the complex, and even meeting friends.
He was expected to act like an outcast, to stay out of public sight of all times as if he was a nuisance.
In this 'holy' and morally upheld city, sometimes sinners were treated worse than criminals. Especially those with local fame and high status.
Those who were revered and idolized must act holier than saints, spotless in every aspect of their lives lest they faced the ruthless public scrutiny.
Call it an occupational hazard, but having the public and media outright disgraced him puts a mental toll on Timbo. A big one at that.
His job threatened, his life cramped, his activities restricted.
He could spend frugally and live for a month at most. Beyond that and the bills would be unbearable. Timbo's club did not give him definitive answers regarding his future and his current contracts.
On a few occasions, Timbo's agent brought some groceries. Today he was having a cheap takeout for lunch.
He was laying low, as instructed by his agent and his club. But doing just that grew harder and harder each passing day. It was mentally exhausting.
As he was scrolling the menu of a Chinese takeout, someone knocked on his door. He placed his phone and lethargically walked towards the door.
"Who's there? Not taking any guests or interviews"
"Pizza, sir. Pizza delivery for Mr. Timbo. The receptionist told me to drop it at unit 43, unnamed sender and already paid in cash" the voice behind the door paused for a second before answering with slight hesitation, definitely not expecting to be scorned by the recipients of said delivery.
Timbo scowled as he opened the door, trying to deduct who might possibly be the sender. A young man, probably in his teens, greeted him while donning the delivery pizza franchise's red distinct jacket with the complementary (and equally bright) red hat.
The young man quivered as Timbo opened the door while still sporting the unsightly scowl on his face, giving him more wrinkles around his forehead.
A large pizza all for himself, delivered without a sender name and already paid for. This could last for 2 full days or maybe even 3. A timely gift.
As an act of apology, Timbo tipped the young delivery and gladly retrieved the pizza from his hand. His face was a complete opposite from the previously scowling and scary to smiling and elated.
He immediately placed the unopened pizza box and called his agent, brimming with joy. After a few rings, the call was connected.
"I was just about to order some takeout, thanks a lot for the pizza" Timbo was thanking with all his heart, however the agent replied with a cold and unwelcoming tone.
"Look Timbo, I know I am your agent but you don't have to rub it in on me. I could buy you dinner and maybe groceries every few weeks. It's not like I was swimming in cash, y'know"
"This pizza was not yours?"
"What pizza?"
"Right, never mind. Good night" Timbo hung up and ate his dinner in silence.
Right, it's dinner time. Pizza was a safe choice, but Timbo's an athlete. Argh I don't know what to buy. Did athletes even eat takeout?
Mayora pondered his options left and right, before finally settling on a local pizzeria he was familiar with.
He did not live exactly frugally, there were times where he splurged on luxury goods and treated himself to a nice restaurant. But normally he simply lives quite far below his means, that translates to a lot of saved up cash.
But that alone did not give Mayora the capacity to provide for Timbo all the time. Doing that means he basically doubled his spending, if not more.
But some helping hand here and there won't hurt, or so Mayora thought as he felt an immense guilt for Timbo's forlorn situation.
It has been days and Timbo's timely pizza ration are done to its last slice. The dreamland was coming to its conclusion and the survival struggle was ready to kick off once again.
After a light workout in his living room, an attempt to stay fit during his confined days, Timbo received yet another delivery.
This time in the form of groceries, in quite an abundant amount for someone living alone, enough to last for a week and with the same procedure as the pizza, sender with no name and paid in cash. But there is one distinction, the grocery came with a note that simply said "I am sorry".
Just like the pizza delivery, Timbo called his agent to get some confirmation and just like before, the agent denied being the sender.
Timbo made a mental note that the sender of the pizza and this grocery were probably the same person, but right now he put that thought on the back-burner and gladly accepted said item.
On a sunny Thursday, 3 days after Timbo received a handful of groceries from an unnamed sender. He just finished lunch, a hearty chicken soup.
After lunch, it was his time to relax but today his activity was interrupted as someone knocked on the door. Wary of what kind of deliveries this time, Timbo strides carefully while racking his brain.
"Who's there? Delivery?" Timbo fired the first shot but was answered with yet another startled gasp. Timbo started to think that he might need to change the way he asked because he had been scaring all the couriers.
There was a silence after the gasp as Timbo reached the door but was reluctant to open it just yet before hearing any answer.
"Timbo, it's Mayora"
A meek and unconfident voice crept through the door, like a young boy who was separated from his family and crying on the spot.
But those weak voices carried a strong sting to Timbo, who immediately opened the door and there he saw Mayora in the flesh.
Both hands behind his back, shoulders slumped while his head looked downward toward Timbo's feet. The tip of Mayora's toes met with each other, forming an outward triangle.
The loudest silence filled the air as both men waited for each other. Mayora was visibly gritting his teeth before finally speaking after gathering much needed resolve.
"Sorry. So sorry" Mayora tried to articulate some words with all his might while his eyes started to get teary.
"Ohh Mayora, long time no see. How you doing?" As if disregarding the gloomy atmosphere, Timbo cheerfully greeted Mayora. But the tense air refused to go away, Mayora was having trouble breathing normally. In an attempt to steel himself, Mayora clutches his hand tightly behind his back.
Mayora did not return the greeting, he stood still the whole time. At this moment, time freezes over and everything stays in place. Mayora starting to get tunnel vision, the corner of his eyes can no longer perceive the bright carpet or the white boring wallpaper on this hall . His eyes fixated on Timbo's feet.
Timbo realized he had to guide Mayora and this conversation or things wouldn't progress. He invited Mayora inside to sit down and have a chat.
As tense as he can be, Mayora sat down on the dining chair while Timbo settled on the TV couch. They are not really facing each other, Timbo had to turn his head to face Mayora while the latter had the liberty to do so without moving. But, in an effort to make Mayora comfortable, Timbo refrained from turning his head around and talked without facing Mayora.
"What's the matter? You did not call beforehand, something important happened? Oh and are you the one sending me pizza and grocery the past few days? At first I thought it was my agent, but he had no idea about it" Timbo struck a casual conversation while flicking through the TV channel.
"Sorry you went through so much because of me" Mayora spoke so softly, almost like whispering.
"Ah, don't think too hard about it. I just need to lay low until they forget about this, it could be weeks from now on but not much else can be done" Timbo tried his best to reassure Mayora.
While those words are meant to comfort, Mayora was still as rigid as ever. Nothing Timbo said could seem to shake off those guilt. Timbo stood up from sitting position and went to Mayora.
"Hey, thanks for visiting. I couldn't really go out and no one visited me other than my agent" Followed by a pat on the shoulder, Timbo thought this should be enough to put Mayora at ease as he stood behind him.
Hearing those words from Timbo, Mayora planted his face to the small round dining table, his loud breathing increasingly audible.
"Mayora, I am hanging on here, you should too. Don't let this put you down. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
"Please, no more words Timbo" Mayora mustered all his strength to reply, half-crying.
"Understood" was the short reply from Timbo, as he closed the distance between them. The pat on the shoulder transformed into a hug from the back.
A tall, muscular Timbo was a giant compared to Mayora. He was not small, but this direct comparison made him look like a dwarf. It took some effort and Timbo had to bend his knee, but he managed to wrap his arms around Mayora's waist and planted his chin firmly on Mayora's shoulder.
Soon, the ragged breath was gone. The sobbing also stopped. It was as if Mayora mentally reset himself when Timbo embraced him. He ought to, as a grown man working in a high-rise office, he must have control over his raging emotions.
Soon, the sadness flowing from Mayora dissipated. The gloomy atmosphere was gone and what replaced it was a calm and quiet scene. Like a child brought to a museum, a clueless but fascinated child that was stone silent during the whole occurrence.
The firm grip of Timbo's hand, placed carefully just above his belt, truly put him at ease. More than that, Mayora was binded with a spell that filled him with bliss. As if nothing mattered outside, no one was getting witch hunted, as if the whole world was this high-end apartment populated by Mayora and a man he was romantically interested in. More than that, he was his first kiss and someone he wished to be with.
Slowly, Mayora placed his right hand on the huge hugging of Timbo. Not as a sign to tell him to stop, but to reaffirm that this is real. Mayora started gently caressing those bulky hands with Timbo paid it no mind.
No words have been said since, but none need to be said anyway. The room was air conditioned, the sun was angled far from the window, but Mayora felt like burning inside. The same could be said about Timbo.
Timbo was the one initiating the hug, now it was Mayora's turn to repay the favor. After fondling Timbo's hugging hand for some time, Mayora straightened his back, lightly grabbed Timbo's arm as if signaling its time to stop the hug, and turned around to face Timbo.
In one swift move, Mayora wrapped his small arms around Timbo's burly neck, their lips met each other. This pair of ill-proportioned couples shared their moments of intimacy for who knows how long, both refusing to be the one letting go.
By the time they finally let go of each other, neither really releases their clutches. Their gaze met and shortly they hugged dearly. Mayora was planting his face to Timbo's shoulder while Timbo must content in positioning only his chin due to the height difference.
They spend hours closely together and now it is getting dark outside and soon they have to part ways. Both of them knew this was inevitable. The last thing to do was having dinner together.
"Please don't leave, Mayora" Timbo pleaded while they cuddled, both did not have a single piece of clothing covering them bar the big white blanket on the bed. Only their faces are uncovered.
"I could ask you the same. Are you leaving town?"
"Frankly I don't know, the club hasn't given me a solid answer. But one thing for sure, I can't stay at this apartment without a job"
"Then how about moving to my place? And maybe we could find you a new job" Mayora was hopeful with his suggestion.
"hahaha, you're too kind. It's not like I was guaranteed to quit my old job, so don't get your hope up. I will let you know as soon as I got the answer from the club" reminiscent of their first kiss together, they ordered Italian for dinner and after that, Mayora promptly bade his farewell.
Come the end of the month, and Mayora has not heard from Timbo since their last meeting. Nor did he check the news because he couldn't bear to read any of them without feeling sick. All he can do now is pray that all is well.
Mayora continued life as usual, he went to work like normal. Sometimes he thought of visiting Timbo or at least bought him some food again, but work got the better of him. The physical fatigue was too great to ignore.
In a moment where he found himself staring at empty spaces, Mayora would fondly remember his time with Timbo. He would grin, giggle, and even flustered as his active imagination rekindled the memories.
As he was getting carried away by his imaginations, Mayora got a rude awakening. A knock on the doors put him back to earth. Sometimes he still gets visits from those reporters, so he was not exactly pleased to hear the knocking.
He opened the door unsympathetically only to be surprised by the guest. It was Timbo, with heaps of baggage near his feet.
"Hello, hope you don't mind me moving in with you" are the words that greeted Mayora. He ran towards Timbo with a huge smile on his face and hugged him right on the spot. Now they will be living together in this small but cozy apartment for times to come.
The End.
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