Ly and I had each popped a handful of prescription uppers and were wandering through the city’s expansive river valley. We were sipping convenience store coffee and talking rapidly about every topic that crossed our minds. This was a daily routine that allowed us to burn off calories while discussing our respective artistic endeavours. Almost instinctively, we diverted from the paved path and headed to a familiar cluster of rocks.

This was our spot, mine and Ly’s, where we sat and stared absent-mindedly at the rapidly passing ripples of the river, which always made me think of Monet’s waterlily paintings. “It’s no wonder the Impressionists painted so many landscapes,” I thought as the sun beamed across the water and reflected a myriad of different colours across the liquid surface. “Mother Nature knows how to mix a beautiful palette.”

I was amazed at how alert, active, and awake I was, considering the adventure I had experienced the night before.

For the first week we were together, Elio and I barely went anywhere. He was staying in a basement suite as part of an Airbnb program, and his hosts forbade him from having any visitors, for fear that he would throw a party and their whole place would wind up completely trashed. So, we spent almost all our time just hanging out at my apartment.

Our encounters would begin with Elio posing while I produced a continuous series of sketches in pencil, ink, or acrylic. These sessions would last for about an hour, or until Elio grew tired or bored. Then we would curl up in my bed, half-naked, and watch movies on the shitty, old television I had dragged into my bedroom at Elio’s request. As a film student, Elio was naturally a fanatic movie enthusiast. He had a particular love of romantic comedies, which I absolutely abhor. But watching these emotional sap-fests made Elio incredibly excited, and I found myself quickly engulphed by his enthusiasm.

I introduced Elio to the works of James Dean, whose films he was surprisingly unaware of. He was entranced by Dean’s performances. “He’s such a babe!” Elio proclaimed after every scene of Dean’s that we watched. Hearing that statement would immediately turn me on, and I would begin crawling all over Elio until he gave in to his mutual arousal. As a result, it took us several days to watch all three of James Dean’s films.

While I thoroughly enjoyed exploring our multiple artistic and sexual pursuits, I found myself growing bored and feeling trapped within the confines of my apartment. I was even beginning to wonder if Elio was embarrassed to be seen in public with me.

Feeling slighted, I finally insisted that we spend a night outside of my apartment. Citing financial restrictions, Elio claimed he was unable to go drinking at a bar or partying at a club. So, I suggested we buy a bottle of red wine and go on an adventure through the city.

“What kind of an adventure?” he asked.

“Who knows?” I replied. “We’ll let the adventure decide!”

We started off aimlessly wandering the alleys and side-streets that populated the city’s downtown core. We passed the wine bottle back and forth as we laughed and drunkenly cracked jokes. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans that wrapped tightly around his legs, accentuating his exceptionally toned thighs. He walked with a slow swagger, his left hand in his pants’ pocket, his hips swaying, his feet gliding along as though his shoes were floating on the air between them and the ground. He would tilt the right side of his head downwards when he turned to look at me, the smooth skin of his face never losing its youthful softness as his thin lips stretched into a smile or broke open for a laugh. Though the sharp alley lighting cast dark shadows below the edge of his eyebrows, the intense blue of his eyes still radiated light directly into my own. If given the chance, I would have stared into those eyes forever.

My visual admiration of Elio was suddenly interrupted by the beckoning cry of, “Hey! You guys wanna get drunk with us?” 

Not ones to pass up an offer of increased inebriation, we both naturally made our way over to the source of the invitation. We found ourselves in the company of two guys who explained that they were planning to sneak a bottle of vodka into a bar but were discouraged by the thorough search they saw the bouncer’s undertaking with the patrons that preceded them in line. So, they thought it best to consume the entire two-six before entering the bar. And, having seen us wandering through the alley, they figured we would do well to join them in the quick consumption of their alcohol.

Unfortunately, they had no mix, so we were forced to wash down the horrible burn of the vodka with the overly dry taste of the red wine. By the time we had finished slamming the bottle of vodka, I was so drunk I could barely stand or form a complete thought. Through some sheer force of will, we managed to bid our enablers farewell and continued drifting drunkenly through the city’s back alleys. Suddenly, in a moment that seemed almost serendipitous, Elio and I stumbled upon an opportunity that simply could not be passed up.

Hanging above the hood of a parked van was a fire escape ladder that led directly to the roof of one of the city’s many downtown businesses. We looked at each other, a mutually mischievous smile covering both our faces. We nodded and began enacting a plan we agreed upon without ever speaking a word.

We jumped onto the hood of the van and climbed the low-hanging ladder until we reached the roof of the building. The loosely corked bottle of wine spilled its contents down the right sleeve of my hoodie, where I had stashed it to better facilitate the ease of the climb.

I slipped the bottle out of my sleeve, took a long swig, then passed it to Elio. We slowly approached the edge of the roof and eagerly peered at the crowds of people waiting in organized lines to enter the various bars that comprised the city’s main street.

“Sheep!” I thought as I giggled to myself. “Pathetic sheep! All lined up with no place to go!”

“You wanna do something real naughty?” Elio asked as he slid his hand up my shirt and began sensually rubbing my chest.

“Always!” I replied.

Elio lunged forward and locked his lips against mine. His mouth tasted like vodka, wine, and cigarettes, which in that moment was the most delicious taste I could think of. Our hands scrapped along our backs, our fingers desperately trying to claw their way to the flesh beneath our clothes. The intoxicating smell of my wine-soaked sleeve spurred me to entwine my left leg with his right and begin gyrating my hips.

We remained like this for what felt like half an hour. I was too drunk to get hard, which was just as well, because if I could have gotten hard, we would probably have ended up having sex right there on that asphalt covered roof.

The increasing noise of the continuously gathering bar patrons, coupled with the mounting fear of our discovery, caused us to break our salacious embrace. I chugged back the last of the wine and threw the bottle at a corner of the roof top. As the last echo of its shattering faded into silence, Elio and I began our descent to the alley. By all accounts, an easily accomplishable task. Except that my left foot got caught on the ladder’s last step as my right leg dangled above the hood of the parked van. Panic overwhelmed me as I drunkenly tried to propel my foot away from the ladder. I grunted as my knee locked into place, preventing the ease of my escape. I began to sweat profusely, and my hands began to slip lose from the ladder’s bars. I tightened my grip as best I could and tried to wiggle my left foot free. At that moment, a woman came around the corner and loudly cried, “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing!” Elio blurted out. “Nothing at all! Nothing’s happening here! It’s all good! Don’t worry about it!”

Unconvinced by Elio’s explanation, the woman immediately ran around to the front of the building, presumably to report the events she had just witnessed to some bar’s bouncer.

“Shit!” Elio exclaimed as he pushed my dangling leg upwards. This allowed me to free my trapped foot, leap from the edge of the ladder onto the hood of the van, then safely to the ground. Once landed, Elio and I both instinctively booked it as fast as we could back through the city’s downtown alleys, and up the stairs to my apartment.

I remember a lot of heavy panting, broken by fits of laughter. We clumsily stripped off our clothes and stumbled to my bed. Then everything went black. Until the incessant beeping of my alarm clock finally woke me from my drunken slumber. Sadly, Elio had already left. I sighed and began preparing for my morning walk with Ly.