WHEN HIS HEART GOES WRONG

POV: ERIC

Nothing is more important to me than a night in a club, drinking without limits and taking in as much ‘rod’ as I can. It is the only activity that pauses my unhappy reality and, for a few hours, elevates my spirit and puts a genuine laugh on my face. 

I laugh. A lot. But the laughter I share in the clubhouse is my most authentic. 

It is also exciting because I get to transform into a beauty, an astounding woman, abandoning my male version effortlessly.

It brings me greater joy because I get to see my best friend irritated and disheartened. Lucas’s only moment of hating our friendship is when I dress like a woman, cling to his arm like a lover, and walk into a club. His frustration makes me laugh heartily.

“Don’t beam at my displeasure, Eric.” he always complains, but that has never made me go easy on him. He’s begged me to stay away from him when I birth my drag queen. It scares girls off; they assume I am his girlfriend. But I never heeded.

Aside from my mother, Lucas is the only good thing I have in my life. With no stable job, relationship, or home, he is the reason my life still feels livable. No matter what I do, having Lucas share in it makes it easier.

Well, I am a chef. An excellent one, if I may boast. But I can’t seem to hold down a job for long. I always get fired for skipping work. I lack the passion and patience to do the same thing over time. If it is not clubbing, drinking, or sexing, I lose interest quickly. How I made it through culinary school without quitting is still a miracle.

Relationships? Same thing. I am open to being with one person forever, but he hasn’t come along. Every relationship ends before it even begins. As for housing, I sleep anywhere I find, Lucas’s place sometimes, but mostly in hotels. I stopped renting apartments after wasting a year paying rent while practically living in hotels.

Money? It comes easily enough. I wouldn’t say I am rich, but I am not poor either. I live this reckless life off a few stocks I invested in. They yield enough to keep me going. And oh! Lucas made those investments for me. You thought I did that myself? Ptff.

I don’t know how to do anything profitable and meaningful for myself. It often feels like I am walking in shackles. Like I am living under a curse. More like I am a puzzle still missing its final piece. Every day, I hope to find whatever it is that will give my life some meaning. And lately, I feel like I am close. 

“Let’s have a drink,” I told Lucas after countless gaming rounds at his apartment.

He looked up from his controller, weighed me whole, then returned his focus to picking a new game, asking if I was alright. “You have been oddly quiet,” he added.

“Do you think there is something from my past life I need to remember to live normally?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, barely interested. Not that I blamed him; this wasn’t the first time I’d asked.

“You know what I mean.” I insisted.

“No, I don’t. Eric…” he set the controller down and walked to the wine cellar. “…we just finished a ton of games, which I beat your âss at each, of course, and now we are about to drink on an empty stomach…And that is normal.”

“Lucas…”

“Here.” He handed me a bottle of beer. “Drink up and tell me what you want for dinner. Or I will order pizza like a normal person.”

I smiled at his thoughtful but regardless conversation. “Keep acting like a twenty-three-year-old me with no job, no lover, and no permanent residence is normal until I infect you with my abnormality.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” His forehead deepened. “I am already infected by your chaos. All I want right now is to be in a club, drinking and dancing with no restraint.”

“And fvcking!” I chimed in, grinning.

“Eric,” he said sternly, setting down his beer. And trust me, I knew what he was going to complain about. 

“I want that too,” he continued, “but guess what? I can’t have it. I won’t have the chance to experience it because I have a friend who has sworn to keep all the girls away from me.”

I pouted sadly, except I do not have mercy for him. “Great. You should remain decent.”

“Seriously, Eric, I haven’t had a good club fvck since BC. I don’t even remember what it feels like to have a girl ogling me across the counter, pulling me into a stall, and sucking my brains out.”

“Aww…”

“Eric?”

“No, Lucas. I am not going clubbing in pants and shirts. Never.”

“I am not saying you should. I am just asking for space. Let me have my fun.”

“I will be bored without you.”

And I mean it. The only time I can keep to myself is when I am in some secluded corner of the club getting busy. Other than that, clubbing without Lucas is boring. No matter how much I drink and dance, going back to Lucas after having a corner session is the most satisfying.

Let’s be clear: I am not in love with Lucas, and he is bloody straight. We have zero romantic attraction. I just value his companionship more than anyone else’s.

I know. It is selfish—hogging Lucas, knowing it gets in the way of his fun. But it is not entirely my fault. Lucas can get a girl while I am off doing my thing, but the moment I return, the girl bails. They all feel intimidated by my beauty, even after Lucas introduces me as his best friend.

“Eric,” he said tenderly, “you can look at me, smile, and laugh, but from a distance. Don't come scaring the girls.”

I agreed. I’d keep my distance tonight. I wouldn’t search for him, not even to share a smile or a glance. I wanted to be selfless for once.

But the peace didn’t last. Lucas confronted me in the club restroom.

“Tell me if you are in love with me,” he snapped. “Because I don’t get why you won’t stick to our deal!” 

“Lucas, I don’t know if you are drunk, but I am here for myself, not for you,” I said, stepping aside for a couple to pass.

“I’m not too drunk to miss that you have been following me everywhere!”

I fumed at his uncalled attitude and loud voice. He was attracting eyes to us. Though I am not sure if they are staring so much at my beautiful looks or our display.

“I am not following you, Lucas,” I whispered so that only he could hear.

“Then who was that at the counter minutes ago? Your twin in a wedding dress?”

Wedding dress? Who comes clubbing in a wedding dress?

And counter? I haven’t even had a drink yet; I have just been dancing and, well…doing other things.

He is drunk. But I couldn’t forgive the public humiliation.

“Now, who is in love with whom?” I said loudly. “Your stupid feelings have you seeing me in a wedding dress. Wants to marry me now?” 

His jaw dropped, but I wasn’t finished. “Too bad for you, lover boy, I am not in love with you and will never be! I…Don’t…Do…Nerds!”

Lucas’s eyes rolled uncontrollably in shock behind his glasses, but I walked away before he could swallow his saliva. I stormed into someone at the door, who stood looking as shocked as Lucas, except I knew where his countenance came from. 

“I’m a man!” I yelled in his face. “I’ve a working cock!”

The craziness didn’t end there. Walking into the crowd to join the dance, intending to forget dealing with Lucas, I met the guy who’d “sent me to heavens” earlier. He was dancing alone. 

For the record, I never talk to guys I’ve messed around with twice. But tonight, I needed a familiar face. I reached for him, and unbelievably, he shoved me.

“What the hell?!” I lashed out.

“Now you wanna dance with me after the slap at the counter?”

“…”

I froze. And with an annoyed stare, the guy walked away. 

Still processing the counter word. Someone bumped into me from behind. I turned, only to face…myself.

Paralysed with shock, I didn’t move. Not even when the other “me” collapsed in my arms.

ERIC:

"I've been calling all night! Where the hell did you dump your phone?" I said through clenched teeth, trying not to wake the person in bed.

"Who is this?" Lucas mumbled from the other end of the phone.

"It's past noon, Lucas. Get your âss over here," I said in a low tone, staring at the other me, still sleeping deeply. "Hurry."

"Eric?"

"Yes, it’s Eric! Snap out of it, man!"

"Ha! And yet you claim not to be in love with me," he said, his voice still groggy but clearer. "Apologise, lover boy."

"This is not the time, Lucas. Come meet me.”

His footsteps echoed over the line. Lucas had likely gone into the spare room I use whenever I sleep over. It’s our thing—calling each other into different rooms by phone—but the thing is, I didn’t sleep over last night.

"Where are you, Eric?" he asked again, realising I wasn’t anywhere. His voice was now fully awake.

"Queens Cot. Room 316," I confirmed.

"Why aren’