Copyright 1998 by Dazzababe
Icky. That was probably the best way to describe the afternoon. Icky, as in it's-just-about-to-rain-and-it's-cold-dark-and-gloomy icky. It shouldn't have mattered much to Daniel as he was doing what he was doing best--leading the small combo inside the cafe off the boulevard--but it did. Days like this always did affect his mood.
Maybe because it was cold, dark, and gloomy the day Mindi, his last girlfriend, the one he thought he'd be with the rest of his life, dumped him. They had come to Paris from Australia; he a struggling musician, she a fledgling 19-year-old model. Somewhere romantic. Somewhere to escape. Who am I kidding? Somewhere for her to begin my career--and end my life.
Now Mindi was part of the jet set--London, Milan, New York--a magazine cover here, a trendy designer's show there--and Daniel was stuck here with no money and his guitar. At least he was good at what he did, and had no trouble landing the job as guitarist of the cafe's house band. It wasn't that creative, but it did pay, so it would do for now.
Darren walked through the streets, enjoying the sights and sounds. It was a trip he had wanted to take for years, but could never afford to. Now, thanks to clever investing, he was here at last, and the wait was well worth it. More than worth it.
He wasn't looking for love. What would be the point? He had been burned so many times by both men and women, he no longer saw a relationship as a necessity. Woody Allen may have been right about how bisexuality doubles your chances for a date on a Saturday night, but he forgot to mention that it also doubled your chances for your heart getting stomped on.
Don't think about that right now. Darren walked down a side street, catching the aroma of brewing coffee and freshly baked pastries. He followed the aroma to the cafe, its source, and walked in.
Daniel looked up from his guitar at the handsome dark-haired man entering the cafe. He was wearing a black leather overcoat over a black turtleneck sweater and slacks, which did no justice to his muscular build. Daniel couldn't help but stare at him--he had a hypnotic beauty, a look of innocence that defied gender. Their eyes met. Daniel did his best to concentrate on finishing the song he was playing.
Darren looked around. The place might be classified as chic if it weren't trying so hard. Tourism posters for various countries were on the walls. He smiled at one advertising Australia.
The song had finished. The piano player was telling a dirty joke in French to the drummer, who was laughing heartily. "Excuse me," he said to Daniel, who was retuning his guitar, "is there a waiter anywhere?"
Daniel smiled, a smile Darren thought was too damn sexy for his own good. "Haven't been in Paris long, have you?"
Darren returned the smile. "Is it that obvious?"
"Well, you are looking for a waiter." They both laughed. "Fortunately for you, I'm not French. My name is Daniel."
"I'm Darren." They shook hands, each noticing the other's strong grip, their eyes meeting again. "Hit it big in the international market, and this is how I decided to spend my winnings. And you?"
Daniel sighed. "I just ended up here."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. It's good to talk about it with someone. The truth is, I came here with my girlfriend, looking to rekindle my romance. She left a supermodel, and I remain a struggling musician."
"That sounds romantic in itself, no?" Daniel shot him a look.
"Damn. I apologize. Let me try again. You're from Australia, aren't you?"
"I am, yes."
"That's where I'm from. Brisbane, to be exact."
"Brisbane? No shit. That's where I'm from." He grinned, and Darren wanted to hold him tightly to his chest and tell him everything was going to be alright. "Let me get you a waiter."
Darren sipped his double mocha, enjoying the music of Daniel's band. The melody was that of pure pop, bright, not too jazzy. Allured by the sweetness of the tune, he began to sing.
Daniel looked up and smiled. Darren's singing should have bothered him. It didn't. In fact, he found it quite enticing, adding to the romantic atmosphere the song was creating. Daniel nodded at him to continue. What a voice. He can seduce so easily,Daniel thought. And though he refused to admit it to himself, he was being seduced.
The song over, Daniel rejoined Darren at the table. "Hey," he said, "My shift is over in a few minutes; would you like to come over to my place for a while. I'm working on some songs that hopefully will be my ticket out of this place. Maybe you could contribute some lyrics?"
Darren nodded. "Sure. I'd love to check out your music."
"Great. Hold on for a few and let me pack up my stuff. I live a few minutes from here."
Soon, they were headed toward Daniel's apartment. A couple passed by them, their arms around each other, the expressions on their faces signifying pure adoration.
Darren glanced at them, swaying as he walked. "Must be nice to be in love like that."
Daniel nodded, not letting Darren see the slight look of pain that suddenly crossed him. He was in love like that. Once.
To Part Two