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static_abyss) wrote2024-08-17 02:54 pm
static_abyss) wrote2024-08-17 02:54 pm
LJ Idol Week 6: Benecio
It started with a single choice, back when Benecio closed his eyes, made a wish on birthday candles, and decided he didn't want to spend his day off at home. The choice sparkled before his eyes like the stars in the sky shine on dark nights, faint twinkling points that burned themselves onto the back of his eyelids. Even now, when he closes his eyes against his burning world, he can still see those candles and taste that chocolate cake with its raspberry filling.
When he was younger, he used to walk down Stratford Street, listening to the hum of conversation as it seeped into his bones. He was a Manor Avenue child, born among the houses that dotted the street. His world was one of muted gray, surrounded by well-behaved children and polite neighbors, who didn't bother anyone and closed their doors so the kids wouldn't wander into strange backyards.
So when Luis invited Benecio to Stratford, he didn't think much of it. He expected the crowded street, with songs blasting from open car doors. The children spread across the sidewalks, their laughter overpowering the calls from their parents. Everywhere he turned, there was a stoop and on each stoop there was a group of people.
Luis had a stoop too, right in front of the barbershop with its jingling bell that rang nonstop, customer after customer coming and going. Everyone who walked through the barbershop door walked out smiling, their hands on their hair, or in their pockets, all of them always pausing at the door to call back to the barbers inside.
"Same time next week?" was the most common phrase.
And from inside, Benecio would hear laughter, followed by, "Go straight to hell. I better not see you for another three weeks."
It was the laughter that threw him off-balance, a thing so carefree, he never imagined he'd sound like that. His laughter was reserved for the days when he could sneak out with his siblings, away from his mother and the weight of being the man of the house. He only laughed when he knew he wouldn't be judged for it. When his sister told him a joke or his brother pretended to walk into stop signs. Or like then, when Luis threw himself down on the steps, pulled out a blunt and offered it to Benecio.
"You seem stressed," Luis said, offering the blunt again.
Benecio looked at the white paper, carelessly rolled into an approximation of a cigarette, too skinny to be even mildly satisfactory. The paper at either end was crumpled like someone had taken the whole thing into their hand and squeezed it.
"You can't roll for shit," Benecio said.
Luis flipped him off and lit up, inhaling deep and blowing the smoke out into Benecio's face. Benecio inhaled deeply just to be an ass and sat down next to Luis, their shoulders knocking together. The bell above the barbershop jingled its little song, and Benecio imagined going inside to see what the big deal was.
He imagined it like a closet, chairs pushed together so close that the barbers bumped into each other as they cut hair. He imagined the haircuts must be cheap with the way their customers kept going, in and out, in and out.
"Do you hear that?" Luis asked eventually.
Benecio said nothing, choosing to watch the shadows in front of him. The sun was behind the building at his back, the afternoon cooling as the sun set. They had a few hours before it got dark and the streets emptied. Before the real fun started.
At nine, Manny showed up. He was wearing black dress pants and a blue button-down. He seemed surprised to see Benecio sitting next to Luis, but he nodded anyway, bumping fists with Benecio as he took a seat on the step below Luis.
"How's it going?" Manny asked, as he rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
Benecio shrugged, nodding at Luis. "He promised me magic."
Manny smirked, "He promises that to all the boys."
That was his first chance, a warning from Manny, who was the kind of guy to offer warnings. Benecio should have walked away and gone back home. He should have listened, he knows that now. But he'd sat on those steps the whole afternoon, watching the barbershop across the street, listening to the sounds of Stratford Street, as Luis smoked enough grass to give Benecio a headache.
The three of them sat on those steps for a moment, before Manny asked to use Luis's bathroom, and the two of them left. Benecio pretended not to notice when Luis put his hand in Manny's back pocket. It was none of his business what Luis did in the privacy of his home. Though Benecio always thought Manny would be more discreet.
Manny was the kind of son who went to church on Sundays and bought his parents gifts with his first paycheck. Manny worked in the city, brough city money to the neighborhood, and the only reason no one jumped him was because Manny was one of theirs. He'd grown up in these streets, surrounded by the bachatas and rancheras, holding onto his mother's hand as she walked him to church and back. Manny might have gone to college and gotten his degree, but he still walked his ass to Luis's stoop and made out with him when no one was watching.
Benecio sighed. He should go. He was the man of his house. He worked two part-time jobs because no one wanted to give him the insurance he needed to get his eyes checked. He probably needed glasses and a way to afford the weekend classes at the local college so he could get a degree and maybe stop having to work so much for so fucking little.
He sat on that stoop, his back starting to ache, thinking about how he'd wasted his day off getting a contact high while Luis tried to smoke so much, he forgot his name. A waste of a day, he'd been thinking, when the little bell above the barbershop door rang once. He looked up, spotting the dark interior through the open windows. His eyes dropped to the door and the young man standing under the streetlight.
He was shorter than Benecio, with unruly brown hair that looked like it'd curl if he got it wet. He was wearing jeans and a worn, plain t-shirt. His shoes were so clean they looked new, and Benecio imagined he had stacks of shoes in boxes at his apartment, ordered by year and color probably.
The guy stood for a moment in front of the barbershop door, messing with the keys and the lock. He seemed to glow orange under the light and Benecio found himself willing him to turn around.
That was his second chance. He should have gotten up and walked away before the guy turned. Fuck Luis and Manny and all their gay shit. That wasn't who Benecio was. No judgment, but he had a family and a job and, he'd promised his dad that he'd do right by him. A guy like Benecio had to marry a nice girl and have pretty kids, who would make his mom proud.
He should probably stop being friends with Luis.
Except, and there was the real problem, he didn't want to.
So he stayed on those steps, under the orange glow of the streetlights, watching the guy across the street get the lock on right. He waited as the guy turned, as their eyes met, as the guy broke out into a grin.
Ah, yes, Benecio thought. There's that damn magic.
When he was younger, he used to walk down Stratford Street, listening to the hum of conversation as it seeped into his bones. He was a Manor Avenue child, born among the houses that dotted the street. His world was one of muted gray, surrounded by well-behaved children and polite neighbors, who didn't bother anyone and closed their doors so the kids wouldn't wander into strange backyards.
So when Luis invited Benecio to Stratford, he didn't think much of it. He expected the crowded street, with songs blasting from open car doors. The children spread across the sidewalks, their laughter overpowering the calls from their parents. Everywhere he turned, there was a stoop and on each stoop there was a group of people.
Luis had a stoop too, right in front of the barbershop with its jingling bell that rang nonstop, customer after customer coming and going. Everyone who walked through the barbershop door walked out smiling, their hands on their hair, or in their pockets, all of them always pausing at the door to call back to the barbers inside.
"Same time next week?" was the most common phrase.
And from inside, Benecio would hear laughter, followed by, "Go straight to hell. I better not see you for another three weeks."
It was the laughter that threw him off-balance, a thing so carefree, he never imagined he'd sound like that. His laughter was reserved for the days when he could sneak out with his siblings, away from his mother and the weight of being the man of the house. He only laughed when he knew he wouldn't be judged for it. When his sister told him a joke or his brother pretended to walk into stop signs. Or like then, when Luis threw himself down on the steps, pulled out a blunt and offered it to Benecio.
"You seem stressed," Luis said, offering the blunt again.
Benecio looked at the white paper, carelessly rolled into an approximation of a cigarette, too skinny to be even mildly satisfactory. The paper at either end was crumpled like someone had taken the whole thing into their hand and squeezed it.
"You can't roll for shit," Benecio said.
Luis flipped him off and lit up, inhaling deep and blowing the smoke out into Benecio's face. Benecio inhaled deeply just to be an ass and sat down next to Luis, their shoulders knocking together. The bell above the barbershop jingled its little song, and Benecio imagined going inside to see what the big deal was.
He imagined it like a closet, chairs pushed together so close that the barbers bumped into each other as they cut hair. He imagined the haircuts must be cheap with the way their customers kept going, in and out, in and out.
"Do you hear that?" Luis asked eventually.
Benecio said nothing, choosing to watch the shadows in front of him. The sun was behind the building at his back, the afternoon cooling as the sun set. They had a few hours before it got dark and the streets emptied. Before the real fun started.
At nine, Manny showed up. He was wearing black dress pants and a blue button-down. He seemed surprised to see Benecio sitting next to Luis, but he nodded anyway, bumping fists with Benecio as he took a seat on the step below Luis.
"How's it going?" Manny asked, as he rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
Benecio shrugged, nodding at Luis. "He promised me magic."
Manny smirked, "He promises that to all the boys."
That was his first chance, a warning from Manny, who was the kind of guy to offer warnings. Benecio should have walked away and gone back home. He should have listened, he knows that now. But he'd sat on those steps the whole afternoon, watching the barbershop across the street, listening to the sounds of Stratford Street, as Luis smoked enough grass to give Benecio a headache.
The three of them sat on those steps for a moment, before Manny asked to use Luis's bathroom, and the two of them left. Benecio pretended not to notice when Luis put his hand in Manny's back pocket. It was none of his business what Luis did in the privacy of his home. Though Benecio always thought Manny would be more discreet.
Manny was the kind of son who went to church on Sundays and bought his parents gifts with his first paycheck. Manny worked in the city, brough city money to the neighborhood, and the only reason no one jumped him was because Manny was one of theirs. He'd grown up in these streets, surrounded by the bachatas and rancheras, holding onto his mother's hand as she walked him to church and back. Manny might have gone to college and gotten his degree, but he still walked his ass to Luis's stoop and made out with him when no one was watching.
Benecio sighed. He should go. He was the man of his house. He worked two part-time jobs because no one wanted to give him the insurance he needed to get his eyes checked. He probably needed glasses and a way to afford the weekend classes at the local college so he could get a degree and maybe stop having to work so much for so fucking little.
He sat on that stoop, his back starting to ache, thinking about how he'd wasted his day off getting a contact high while Luis tried to smoke so much, he forgot his name. A waste of a day, he'd been thinking, when the little bell above the barbershop door rang once. He looked up, spotting the dark interior through the open windows. His eyes dropped to the door and the young man standing under the streetlight.
He was shorter than Benecio, with unruly brown hair that looked like it'd curl if he got it wet. He was wearing jeans and a worn, plain t-shirt. His shoes were so clean they looked new, and Benecio imagined he had stacks of shoes in boxes at his apartment, ordered by year and color probably.
The guy stood for a moment in front of the barbershop door, messing with the keys and the lock. He seemed to glow orange under the light and Benecio found himself willing him to turn around.
That was his second chance. He should have gotten up and walked away before the guy turned. Fuck Luis and Manny and all their gay shit. That wasn't who Benecio was. No judgment, but he had a family and a job and, he'd promised his dad that he'd do right by him. A guy like Benecio had to marry a nice girl and have pretty kids, who would make his mom proud.
He should probably stop being friends with Luis.
Except, and there was the real problem, he didn't want to.
So he stayed on those steps, under the orange glow of the streetlights, watching the guy across the street get the lock on right. He waited as the guy turned, as their eyes met, as the guy broke out into a grin.
Ah, yes, Benecio thought. There's that damn magic.
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- Erulisse (one L)
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And also, just the ever so personal and constant internal struggle of eldest Latino children trying to live up to their parental expectations when they're queer.
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Maybe Benecio should. Just for fun :)
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Dan
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Reading this was a good choice, I enjoyed.
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Very well done. 👏👏👏
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I think the barbershop boy is trouble. ;) But that may be because Benecio is looking for something temporary, and might instead find himself obsessed with someone he just can't give up. Benecio thinks of himself as being so different from Luis and Manny, but maybe he just hasn't met the person (the magic) yet who might make him forget about trying to hide his true self.
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