Eternal Promise: Fragments Of Us

LEON

(“WHY…?)

(“Stay with me…”)

(“Where are you going?”)

(“Don’t leave me behind, (.....)—”)

My alarm clock woke me up with a loud ring. I became aware that I was drenched in cold sweat and that my heart was racing rapidly. It happened once more.

I looked around, relieved that it was still the same location. I was staring at my ceiling when I realized it was my room. If I had awoken in someone else’s room, I would have been terrified.

Despite my tiredness, I sat up and brought my trembling right hand to my face, covering half of it. “Today’s the third time,” I said quietly to myself, terrified. “What in the world is going on?” I pondered as I leaned against the wall.

It was the same dream as before. I’ve been having strange and repetitive dreams that I couldn’t explain. At first, I assumed they were the result of stress from work and everyday problems, but they got worse the more I tried to ignore them.

It had already had an emotional and psychological impact on me. I tried talking it out with some friends and random people online, hoping to find something that would help me solve my problem, but none of them worked.

[If this continues, I might lose my mind,] I sighed helplessly.

This couldn’t go on forever. It would eventually affect my work, for sure.

I gathered my thoughts and set the idea aside for the time being. Today was another busy day for me, and I couldn’t afford to ruin it by having a minor nightmare.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“LEON, you look frumpy, man,” Derrick, the production’s cameraman, observed. We were currently on a break.

“Do I look awful?” I anxiously asked him as I grabbed a face mirror to check my complexion and facial appearance.

“Awful?” Derrick laughed. “You look like a vampire to me,” he sarcastically jokes, but it had an impact on me which made me feel uncomfortable.

My stage name is Leon. During my adolescence, I worked as a model.

People have always complimented me on my good looks since I was a child. Adults and kids my age wanted my attention. People said my face was androgynous. Someone could tell I was a man by looking at my body, but they could mistake me for a woman due to my feminine facial features. I’ve always had a slim build and couldn’t get any bigger or more ripped, no matter how hard I tried.

My mother almost mistook me for an albino when I was born with very light blonde hair, but I wasn’t. I always dyed my hair darker shades of brown to black to avoid drawing too much attention. My skin tone was also quite pale. When a talent manager discovered me, I was of average height, but I was taller than most of the guys in my class.

I modeled out of curiosity, not expecting it to dramatically change my life. At the age of 24, I’m now a young, promising actor who has already appeared in a few indie films.

People admired people who depicted a likable side when they became famous personalities. As a result, it forced me to keep my “likable side” in order to move ahead in the industry of make believe—a place where fiction would become reality, and reality would become fiction.

“Saying it like that only makes me nervous. Are you aware of this, Derrick?” I told the guy who was munching on his clubhouse with no care in the world.

Derrick nodded in agreement, which irritated me. “I’m just telling the truth,” he explained before taking another bite of his food. He didn’t mind that the spread oozed from it. “If you continue to have an unhealthy routine, the press would then dig in again,” he alerted.

“Says the guy who eats a lot,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘an unhealthy routine’?” I was irritated and snapped. Derrick, as usual, dismissed it with a silly laugh.

“Derrick has a point, Leon,” my makeup artist, Alynna, interrupted. “They won’t shut up when it comes to you,” she said, holding a foundation brush in her right hand and pointing at me. “You know how popular you are among teenagers?” She also reminded me.

“What’s the deal with the sarcasm, you two?” I raised an eyebrow at both of them, who simply laughed at my exaggerated reactions.

“Mr. Popular has no idea how attractive he is,” Derrick attempted another joke. This time, however, Alynna joined him in his laughter.

“Pipe it down, Derrick. I, too, am a Leon fan,” Alynna admitted. She shared one last ridiculous laugh with Derrick before becoming stoic. “Jokes aside, Leon, I am deeply concerned about your physical and mental health. If something bothers you, tell us,” she reassured, but then abruptly changed her mind. “No, not us. Simply contact me. Derrick is a useless individual. He’ll definitely tell you shits,” she predicted.

“What exactly does that mean?” Derrick responded. He was still preoccupied with his food.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at their shenanigans. They’ve both been with me since the beginning of my acting career. They were initially wary of me. However, as we spent more time together, the three of us became friends.

“I’m fine,” I assured the two as I clenched my fists. “It’s just that... I’ve been having the same dream over and over. And every time I wake up from it, I’m drenched in cold sweats,” I told them, and their jaws dropped.

“It’s a message, man!” Derrick finally put his clubhouse down on his plate and leaned in closer to me, which surprised me.

Alynna didn’t say anything right away. Before she said anything, she tried to analyze what I said. “Does Sheldon know already?” she inquired right away. With complete honesty, I shook my head. I didn’t think Alynna would recall Sheldon in these circumstances. “Then tell him when you get home tonight,” she suggested. “Once again, you can contact me if something is wrong. Okay?” She then went back to the dressing room to prepare the makeup for my next scenes.

My boyfriend’s name is Sheldon. We started dating before I became an indie actor. Apparently, if the public learned about my sexuality, our relationship would likely cause a commotion. So Sheldon and I agreed to keep our heads down for the time being.

During my modeling career, I met Sheldon. We began with a model-fan relationship. He was my biggest supporter. He always supported the show, no matter how small or simple it was. He told me how much he admired me. I assumed he was just mesmerized at first and would eventually grow tired of being a fan boy, but he didn’t.

My manager once planned a special event for my fans. If they won the game that my manager planned, one lucky fan would get to spend one night with me. I didn’t think Sheldon would win. It was my first meeting with him in person. I was astounded by how fine and attractive he was. We ate dinner. We talked for a long time. I was surprised at how quickly I became accustomed to him.

Sheldon was a nice, easy going guy. He was a little shy compared to when we chatted, but I had a feeling I had already interacted with him. We had a few drinks, but I didn’t get too tipsy. He felt the same way. Our conversation became more serious as time passed. He admitted his feelings to me. That was the first time I had been confessed to. I didn’t respond to him because I didn’t know what to say.

To avoid breaking his heart, I suggested, “Why don’t we try going out?” on a whim. He gladly accepted it. We kept in touch for a few days after that. He became more affectionate than he had ever been. Even though we couldn’t see each other very often, hearing his voice made me happy. That was when I realized I was in love.

But we were both men at the time. I became terrified and distanced myself from him, completely oblivious to how he would react. Sheldon didn’t give up on me. He waited no matter how much I ignored him. He waited... and waited... and waited some more.

As a result, I confronted my own emotions and talked things through. I was the one who raised his expectations. I simply told him that everything between us was a first for me, and that I was terrified. He apologized and asked me to give him a chance to prove that he wasn’t playing with me. That being said, he became my first man.

Sheldon was still the same guy who always had my back up to this day. I could consider myself lucky for meeting someone like him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“WELCOME back, Leon,” Sheldon said warmly as I opened the door to his room.

“Sheldon,” I said softly before closing the door behind me. As he approached, I dropped my bag on the floor. Sheldon encircled my waist with his massive arms. I wrapped my hands around his neck before kissing him passionately. Sheldon responded with longing and drew me in closer, purposefully bumping our lower halves against each other. “I missed you,” I pantedly whispered in his ear in a raspy voice.

“I missed you, Leon,” he said, his voice deep and seductive.

We continued to kiss each other. As Sheldon moved his hands lower, attempting to unzip my pants, I let out a soft moan. Unsatisfied, he abruptly lifted my legs and pushed me against the wall.

“Are we going to do it this way?” I made fun of him.

Sheldon laughed. I always adored seeing his innocent smile. Despite his size, Sheldon had a gentle face and an aura around him. “If you’re okay with it,” he clarified.

I kissed him again, assuring him that everything was fine. Sheldon was overjoyed, and we continued to relish the moment.

I randomly remembered the voice from my dreams as we took our time feeling the heat of each other’s bodies. It bothered me for a moment, but my longing for Sheldon ignited the fire within me and I just let it slip my mind.

(“Please stay with me…”)

I tried to ignore that voice and put all of my concentration on Sheldon. Later that night, I slept soundly in the arms of the man I loved.

[to be continued]

LEON

“CUT!” yelled the director. My co-actor and I immediately broke the tension by smiling at each other.

“That was exhausting,” she remarked, laughing.

“Tell me all about it,” I agreed. It was nerve wracking indeed.

“Way to go, you two!” The director rose from his seat and approached us. As he moved, his belly fat jiggled. He stood about 4 feet 8 inches tall and had a rounded body.

Natasha, her stage name, said, “Thank you, Director Kim.” It was an honor for her to be praised.

Director Kim laughed and looked at me, saying, “And you, Leon, you’re getting better at this.”

I scratched the back of my head lightly with my left hand. “Thank you, Director,” I replied. “It’s also because of you. You really assisted me in bringing out my best,” I added.

My words of thanks made the middle-aged man blush. “You, Leon!” He then smacked my arm playfully to show his delight. “Enough with the flattery. Now, I want you two to rehears