by:Bosie
“I’m sorry baby, it’s just the first thing that came to mind.”
“…Because you think I look like Barbara Streisand?”
“No, fer crying out loud! I was under pressure; I just said the first thing that came to mind! Just because it happened to be Barbara Streisand doesn’t mean anything!”
“So you think about her and not me?”
“No! The pressure!”
Bill’s slight southern accent seemed to crack in such a way that made Brian’s ears coil in disgust. “You don’t think I know about the media? Admit it! I look like Barbara Streisand to you!”
Bill’s nerves were on edge. He cooled himself and slowly smiled. “She couldn’t hold a candle to you love.” He touched the makeup smooth face tenderly kissing the pale cheek.
Brian pouted darting his prosthetically disfigured eyes to the oak CD rack in the corner, “Then how come you have FIVE of her CDs and NONE of mine?”
His bedmate coughed nervously, “Well, baby, I just haven’t really had a chance to get to the umm…. What do you call it? Record store!”
“I see.” The smooth voice fell flatly.
“No, really! I’m telling the truth! Look, I’ll buy one. What’s the new one called again?”
Brian shook his head picking his waifish body up from the sumptuous satin sheets, “Fuck you. I’ll take myself to the door. You have a meeting. You better enjoy it since it’ll be the last before they kick your sorry ass out.”
“Mary! You look great! Nothing like Streisand! Come back!”
“No!”
Bill panicked as his lover reached the door, “Brian! For Christ’s’ sake! You’ll be right back in bed when that new prick gets into office.”
Brian slammed the wall with his fist. “WHAT makes you think I’d EVER sleep with a Republican?!” He turned swinging his long dark hair in his face, and slamming the door behind him.
It was too late. All left was an elbow length black glove on the mattress beside him.
