He Was Always Photogenic
Part 1
He was always photogenic.
He was beautiful.
He was…
gorgeous.
I once walked this earth.
Fell in love with this boy.
His name…
Dylan
Tragic, my death. But that is beside the point. We would take pictures, every day. Of just – things. Nature, cities, us, animals, people, us. Most importantly, us. Together or apart, we were very photogenic. But he was the better of us. Smooth face, well-proportioned body, beautiful chest, nice rump, and the sexiest feet anyone could have. Not too big, not too small. Just right. Perfect.
May 23rd, 200X – one hundred and ninety nine days after my death
Today was the day that Dylan took his last photo. Taking pictures had brought so many bad memories – memories of him. He hadn’t noticed this until today. It was horrid. He could see the last breaths come through me. He was under my bed - watching as the bullet went through my head. A gun in my mouth, the trigger pulled. I worded the phrase “I love you” to as I hit the ground, and my final breath was through.
The next day was the day he would meet someone. My hero. My crush. Well, neither. He was a bit of a past crush. His name … Riley.
May 24th, 200X – two hundred days after my death
Today was the day that that Dylan met Riley. Riley Hawk. His beautiful blue eyes and remarkably shiny blonde hair entranced him. He woke up at 10:30. Smooth jazz tunes woke Dylan up – he never set his alarm. He never did. Who was here? His mother – yes. That’s the only logical reason. He walked into his kitchen, hoping his mother was around. Weird, she wasn’t there. He lifted his shirt up a bit to scratch his smooth tummy – he quickly put his shirt down, covering not only his abdomen but bad memories – that one photo he took two days before my death. He was on his way to drop the photos off on the day when I was brutally killed.
One hour development.
Ten minutes to go.
He
started to walk down to Eckerd,
slowly shuffling his feet as went. Today
was a bad day. November 5th,
200X – 1. After picking up the
photos, he ran over to my home. Not
a jog, but a run. Swift, agile,
dodging for coming pedestrians to jump to the roads.
He burst through the door, screaming my name.
He ran up to my room, when I shouted for him to get under my bed.
5:54 pm. I could here pounds
of footstep on my stairs. He slid under the bed, and the clock turned 5:55.
The door burst open, and a gun was put in my mouth.
The husky man in front of me pulled the trigger, and I was dead.
But he always remembered what he was going to tell me. And I think I knew, too.
He was going to say “I Love You.”
back.
Riley was sitting in the back of a club, texting away on his cell phone. Dylan sat down right next to him, but neither of them noticed each other – at least easily. Dylan flipped out his Sidekick, and started to IM his friend Nina for her to come and see him. He hadn’t seen her in a long time, so it was crucial that they met there, now, at the place they met a year ago. Riley looked to his right and saw a boy on a sidekick next to him, and said “Nice Phone.”
“Thanks. I like yours,” said Dylan.
“Yeah, I do too,” chuckled Riley.
“I don’t believe we have met,” Dylan said.
“Right, where are my manners, I’m Riley,” said he.
“Dylan. My friend used to have a crush on a guy named Riley. I always told him, If I ever meet him, I’ll be sure to get him to give me his number for you, but that was before he … well never mind.” Riley’s slight chuckled went sour as he asked,
“Well,
what?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay.”
“So.”
“So … do you have a girlfriend,” asked Riley.
“Nah, not since I thought I loved someone but it ended pretty badly,” replied Dylan.
“Oh, bad break up?”
“Let’s just say one of us got the bad card in life.”
“Oh. Well I’m not really into chicks. Guys are kinda my thing, but then again I can’t sometimes resist a good rack on a gal,” said Riley.
“I think I’m the same way – but more gay. But I get teased for it at school cause I’m scene and gay and typical stereotype. But I don’t act scene – but I guess I dress the part,” said Dylan
“Typical. But that’s the hot thing about you – I love the shirts you wear,” blurted out Riley.
“Huh? Didn’t catch that,” replied Dylan.
“Do you wanna dance,” questioned Riley?
“Sure.”
“Then let’s hit it!”
After a few hours of dancing, both boys were covered in sweat.
The air was filled with testosterone and drive, filling the area between
the two boys with lust. Riley then
said, “Do you wanna get out of here?”
“Sure.”
TO
BE CONTINUED...