4 - There dwells a spirit, waiting to be released

“I’d forgotten how noisy these places were,” Merlyn shouted over the beat of the music.

“It’s not noise; it’s the sound of excitement, hot, sweaty young bodies moving to their primal urges. Speaking on which…” Alton homed in on one young man dancing wildly in the center of the crowd, obviously oblivious, for the moment, to the men around him.

With a shake of his head Merlyn left his friend to his pursuits and snagged a just vacated table at the edge of the room. Setting his beer down, he propped one foot up on the other chair and took a sketchpad from his bag. Alton would undoubtedly scold him for not trying to be social and dance but he really didn’t care. He was here as per his friend’s wishes. Alton could like it or lump it.

Twenty minutes later Merlyn had filled several pages with quick sketches that caught the frenzied movements of the dancers and several more of the men watching either with interest or wistfully from the sides of the dance floor. He envisioned a series of small sculptures, maybe done in clay rather than stone, designing them in his mind’s eye. He was so involved in his thoughts he jumped when Alton arrived at the table, holding the hand of one very young man, a second in tow behind them.

“Merl,” Alton said in exasperation, “why aren’t you dancing? Well never mind sweetie, I have someone here who wants to meet you. His name is Randy and he’s a budding artist.” Alton leaned closer, murmuring, “Or so he says but who cares, he’s cute.”

Merlyn resisted rolling his eyes as he looked at the twink in question. “What kind of art,” he asked, dropping his foot off the chair so the young man could sit down.

Taking the seat Randy said shyly but with some pride, “I design T-shirts.”

Hard-pressed not to laugh outright, Merlyn nodded. “Like the one you’re wearing?” He didn’t add, ‘Barely’. The shirt was so tight, and so cropped, it was hardly counted as clothing.

“Yes. Do you like it?” Randy puffed out his thin chest, his hands behind his head to give Merlyn the full effect.

The design on it was bad knock-off graffiti, worse than some Merlyn had seen on alley walls. Politely he told the young man, “It’s definitely interesting.” He looked around for Alton, hoping to use him to get rid of the kid, only to see his friend disappearing towards the men’s room with his latest conquest.

Randy sensed Merlyn’s lack of enthusiasm and pouted. “I’ve been told I’m really quite good.”

“At what, sucking dick?” Merlyn muttered under his breath. When the twink’s hand touched his thigh, he had a feeling he’d been overheard despite the loud music. As the hand moved higher he sighed, removing it. “Look… Randy was it? I’m not interested, okay. Not in your budding career or your cute and probably very talented mouth. If you’ll excuse me I’m leaving. Have a good evening.” Sticking the sketchpad back in his bag, Merlyn stood up and quickly wove his way through the crowd to the club’s exit.