O.A. - Ruby

“Maybe she wasn’t interested?” Cam snapped.

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Amir looked into his mug, slowly stirring the tea with a spoon counterclockwise. His detached look showed that he had asked the question mechanically, simply to indicate participation in the conversation.

“Amir, are you all right?” Sophia started dessert.

“As it turned out, I am no longer young…” he said.

“And HOW did you discover this?” it was evident that Cam could hardly restrain a smile.

“I am already 31 years old, and I still have not achieved anything…”

Honestly, it was like a worn-out record. Even the word order was unchanged.

By the end of almost every week, it was common for Amir to start thinking aloud about his achievements and again aloud engage in self-criticism about them. Probably, because of his charm, he almost always draws all the attention to himself with his, as it seems to me, feigned sadness. This is quite annoying to me because I believe that with my uncontrived diagnosis, I deserve more attention than him. In contrast to that habit, Amir plans to start a new life almost every Monday, whatever that means, but by the middle of the week these plans are postponed to the next week. That is the way it has been for the whole time I have known him.

“We haven’t got out anywhere for a long time.” Camilla, seeing how Sophia, unseen by Amir was mimicking a pistol at her temple, decided it was time to take out the heavy artillery.

“What about last week? Oleg chose a very interesting leisure time activity!” Sophia rewarded me with a broad smile.

We have developed a tradition of the four of us going out somewhere at least once every two weeks. Where exactly is decided by whoever wins the board game that we usually play on Friday nights. I won the penultimate time and early Saturday morning we went to donate blood at the Medical Research Center for Pediatric Hematology. Yesterday we departed from tradition and dedicated Friday night to a game of Peepers and Camilla was the undisputed champion.

“So! Let’s go!” Cam got up resolutely from the table.

“Where? What should we wear?” I decided to clarify just in case.

Since I really love costume parties and such types of events, I have a broccoli costume, a pink Batman suit and a black wide-brimmed hat (whose usage I haven’t determined yet) in my room.

“I think, for where we are going that for you and Amir, the less clothes – the better.” Camilla winked mockingly.

By the enthusiasm with which Amir began to get ready, one might think that he thought that we were going to a strip club. It was only in the taxi that Cam hinted to him that he had almost guessed right, and perhaps, there would really be a striptease.

All of his expectations were shattered when a taxi dropped us off at the newly opened Soho gay club.

“Sister, if you had even given me a hint about the destination, I would not have dressed up so pretentiously and I would have put on a sports bra.” Sopha took a moist napkin out of her purse and began to wipe off her makeup.

“You can do that in the restroom,” Amir put his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Are there ladies’ restrooms there?”

What is with the stereotypes…?

We are in heaven! I can’t say anything for Amir and the girls but for me, paradise would look exactly like this. I’ve never seen so many beautiful, muscular male bodies in T-shirts and without and the club felt like it was endless. Fortunately for me, to get to the bar we needed to cross the huge dance floor, completely packed with dancing guys.

Either the lamotrigine and zoloft, which I took 15 minutes before we left home, had begun to act, or I had received a revelation from above that life is beautiful. I was so happy that I had the opportunity to see such beautiful bodies and faces live and not on porn sites and that I could feel like I was a part of all THIS.

Probably, the effect of the drugs had begun to take over…

“And how do we get to the bar?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

God bless the designer of this facility!

“Follow me, girls!” Camilla started walking across the dance floor to the bar and we followed her.

“Great face!” approximately somewhere in the center of the dance floor, a plump guy with a red beard and a T-shirt with the inscription “Nobody knows I’m a lesbian” grabbed me by the chin.

Oh my God!!! Is that true?!! Thanks!!!

“Sorry, darling, he is mine.” Amir grabbed me by the elbow and, quickening his pace, overtook Camilla and Sophia. “Bro, don’t leave me alone in here!”

“Unfortunately for me, we got to the bar too quickly. My skin still felt the touch of that funny fat man in the funny T-shirt.”

“Three tequilas please, one Medusa and one Blow with a Paddle,” Sopha ordered after studying the menu.

“Binging again? How low the elite have fallen. The same please.” Cam gave the bartender a smile.

An insanely handsome bartender…

“You didn’t offer me any alternatives.”

“Apparently, I’m going to need a real blow with a paddle today. One dark beer please, any kind.” Amir looked around as if he was a spy in enemy territory and his informant had told him that he had been burned and that at any moment he might catch an enemy bullet.

“And for me please; a non-alcoholic mojito without mint leaves. In a manly glass please.” So that everyone thinks that I am drinking vodka or tequila.

The bartender smiled when he heard my order.

Ahhh… He smiled at me!

Sopha and Cam, watching my face change from red to crimson, started winking playfully, as if hinting at the possible development of events between me and the bartender.

“You perverts.” I tried to say in an unwavering voice.

If only you were right!

We sat down at a free table.

“My little Oleg! Sweety. Please relax,” Cam said, “and don’t slouch. Imagine holding a ping-pong ball between your shoulder blades.”

“Well, since we’re in such a place, it’s time to drink to free love,” Sopha suggested.

With the words “To free love!” we all raised our glasses over the table.

“Well…” Sopha drank the Medusa in one gulp, “since there is hardly anyone here who will invite me to dance,” followed by the Blow with a Paddle in another gulp, “Amir will have to.”

“What?!” Amir choked on his beer, “I don’t dance well, especially to fast music.”

This was not true. Given his lack of personality complexes and shyness, in a heterosexual environment Amir could move to the music like a disco dancer.

“No, we’re going to dance.” Sophia got up from the table and, looking at Camilla, tried to imperceptibly nod in my direction.

Apparently, there was to be some serious conversation ahead for me.

“Cam,” Amir drank his glass of beer almost in one gulp, “you have something on your back.” Camilla turned around to try to see what it was and Amir immediately knocked off a portion of her tequila in one gulp. “Now we can go dancing.”

“Come on, let’s burn this dance floor to hell,” Sophia took Amir’s hand, and together they went to the very center of the event.

“We need to talk….” Cam began.

Here we go…

“About what?”

“Something is happening to you. You almost always have a sad expression and you don’t really tell us anything.”

My face often gives me away: it begins to treacherously change color when I lie, feel shy or get angry. And it expresses emotions before I even have time to feel them. Sometimes it seems that it lives a life of its own.

“Cam, it’s called bi-polar disorder. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t always really understand what I feel myself, and…”