This is my contribution for the wonderful @historyinthemakingzine
I had the greatest time participating and there are so many incredible artists and writers featured in it; go download it here it is so 100% worth it!
Summary: It is pretty clear how Alex has been doing and feeling throughout the years between meeting Henry for the first time at the diving finals of the summer Olypmics and diving with him into a $75,000 cake. But what was on Henry’s mind during that time? How was he coping with all the little taunts and digs Alex directed his way? This story tries to give an insight into that.
Rating: Gen
Length: 3400 words
30 November 2016 – New York City
Henry wasn’t eager for the constant charity appearances. Or any appearances, for that matter. To him it was rather obvious that one could achieve a lot more if, instead of constantly letting other people know of all the generous acts one committed, that energy was used to actually commit said acts. But Henry had been forced to realize a long time ago that this was sadly how society worked, and that his family played an essential part in keeping it that way.
So there he was once again, somewhere on Fifth Avenue, wearing a well-pressed suit and a well-practiced moderate face. Having to listen to hours of swollen-headed, self-adulating speeches that all sounded the same had driven him to drinking his third glass of champagne, which must have been far too expensive to taste that mediocre.
Henry wasn’t against cancer-charities. Obviously not. What was rubbing him the wrong way was the elaborately calculated strategy, courtesy of the public relations team, that made him go to this kind of fundraiser. Because a mourning son, desperate to move towards a world where nobody had to suffer the same fate as his father had, was excellent for the ratings.
He wanted to vomit just thinking about it. Of course he wanted a world free of cancer and the best treatment for anybody until then. But he’d much rather be doing more hands-on work like—just a thought—changing the ways the pharmaceutical industry worked so that a few big corporations wouldn’t hold the power over almost everybody’s health.
He’d even prefer listening to hours of highly scientific research that he could never fully grasp than these melodramatic speeches, but he had no choice. And he had to be careful not to accidentally go for a few more glasses of overrated champagne, since that definitely wasn’t excellent for the ratings.
One hour later, Henry stood in front of an ugly golden-rimmed marble sink and looked into an equally ugly golden-rimmed mirror, wishing he could be literally anywhere else, when one of the stalls was pushed open and Henry almost lost his façade.
Out came Alex Claremont-Diaz, his natural charisma not even diminished by being in a bloody atrocious bathroom. Henry swallowed, busying himself with finding all the soap residues on his already very soap-free hands.
Henry had noticed Alex the moment he had entered the huge ballroom where the fundraiser was being held. He couldn’t deny that his glance had landed on the other man again and again throughout the night. Alex was mesmerising, his captivating presence like a magnet for Henry’s eyes. He could’ve watched for hours how Alex laughed whole-heartedly when someone at his table cracked a joke, how he talked with his hands and always seemed completely immersed in what his counterpart was saying, even if he probably was not.
Henry wanted to be looked at like that.
Several times that night, he had felt the temptation to walk over to Alex, to introduce himself properly and maybe somehow get to know him. But he hadn’t dared. They had met once already, but Henry hadn’t been able to focus on anything back then, too angry and devastated with everything happening in his life. He hadn’t been capable of additionally dealing with the prettiest boy he had ever had the privilege and misfortune to lay his eyes on, reminding him of everything he could never have.
Maybe tonight was his chance.
