He left me, I thought. Not that it really mattered. We were only a few blocks from the hotel and I had one of the key-cards in my pocket. But right then and there, I felt like Simba right before Mufasa died: powerless and about to be crushed by a horde of charging wildebeest. And if you’ve ever been stuck in the direct path of a bunch of New Englanders during the holidays, you know exactly what I’m talking about. The city-folk have little regard for their peers, especially if you can’t keep up.
Out of nowhere, I felt a familiar hand grasp its fingers around the top of my jacket sleeve, pulling me upwards and back on my feet toward salvation. There he was- my knight in shining armor- smiling heroically as though he had just rescued me from the top of the dragon’s tower. He drew me into him and kissed me hard. I almost pulled my head back in shock. Johnny never showed affection in public. He thought that being gay was a blow against his masculinity. I don’t know why. He was always on top.
That meant that he was really fucked up, and we all know what happens when Johnny gets blasted. I suppose it was rather fortunate that there wasn’t another Prius for him to crash.
I pulled my head back and he held me in place as the traffickers swarmed around us with looks of disdain or total dismissal. I never cared about people’s opinion of me.
“Babe,” I uttered graciously, burying my hopeless face into his jacket, “you saved me.”
There was his smile again. “I’ll always be there to save you.”
In that smile there was something oddly familiar. It felt something like hearing a song I’d once heard when I was five, and again for the first time since. I felt a glow in my stomach that nearly made me vomit. It travelled up and into my brain and a wave of nausea washed over me. I hadn’t eaten a meal in two days, and Tina had finally worn off. Time for another Swiss Roll. My knees buckled and I grasped onto him. My bloodied hands nearly slid off the moisture and the slickness of his jacket but he caught me, yet again.