Friday, March 7, 2008

Small Heel Prom Shoes



_Me like a man. And being beautiful, narcissistic gay.
_de
one.

Augustine was never gay. In fact, since high school, he always had girlfriends or girls that went out or watching films of Woody Allen, while they fell asleep or was later asked how the sex in the same bed. His father was absent or authoritative, and his relationship with his mother was very normal. Baby never wore, nor repressed as overprotective.
However, despite all this, in early March 2006, Augustine fell in love with a man. In fact, that John was a man is at least an exaggeration. Because despite his talent, his deep voice, his experience as a musician and filmmaker, was not then (nor do I believe it is now) much more than a boy-odd feet ten, with sneakers, no facial hair and an attitude pretty childish.
Augustine, beginning the third year of the Bachelor of Media Arts, had been looking for work all summer, and had gotten as an electronics technician for a short film directed by John, but was not hired by him but by a mutual friend, who did not know.
The days passed pretty tedious. Production breakfast in a seedy bar waiting for the actors, who were always late or not forthcoming. Then he went to the set, where hundreds of little things worked more or less or wrong. The cables were never enough, the light was never good, the performances were not convincing anyone. The story, of how little attention Augustine put it, was a girl who lived in an apartment horrible, composed songs, cheating on her boyfriend and took a lot of cocaine.
They had planned to finish in three days, but the week was to be fulfilled and still missing a few scenes. Best, Augustine thought, and he was paid per working day.
The first opportunity to speak was Thursday. Augustine was the first to arrive, and eight in the morning and sat on the bar as usual in front of a coffee and two croissants too small. John arrived at eight-thirty, with a huge backpack on his shoulders and his girlfriend perfect hand.
_Hola. _Dijo As he pulled the bag and sat down.
_Hola. _Entonces Augustine saw the shirt. It was a regular white shirt with short sleeves. Had written on his chest with a fiber is a legend that was defiantly "I'm not indie."
_ What? _Juan Notices the look, Augustine smiled.
_Nada.
The rest of breakfast went quiet and sleepy. The day was sunny and productive. Would end the next day and the night would be the closing party. John was almost famous, was a little star. He had money and liked to throw parties for everything, for every short, for each sample, sometimes three or four songs I had done.
Augustine found Google and displayed photos of a friend. It was found coming home and telling his sister he had a new friend for whom he admired art. It was quite true. Le executive looks like John, how she was, how I imagined all the time, how created. He hated his own paralyzing perfectionism.
The night of the festival on Friday, was tired, but the nerves were a shot of adrenaline and prevented him from thinking of their exhaustion. When he arrived, a small bar rented for the occasion, was relieved to notice the faces too exhausted from their peers. The girls with their makeup, concealed.
greeted some people and ordered a beer at the bar. John is played back at the time was due. _No
pay. Is free. _Sonrió quietly.
_Ah, well, thanks.
_Me showed your comic.
Augustine did not know what to say. It was a cartoon he had drawn the previous year on request, recounted the life of a mouse with glasses and their misadventures trying to seduce her office mate. He had not much to know, and this, of course, was best for Augustine, who used to be ashamed of their few productions. He took a swig of beer.
_Ah, is long ago. _It
very good. The character is charming and the dialogue is great You're laburo something now? _No
really. I did a lot this summer. In fact in the short work is the first thing I do in a long time.
_Que wrong. You should exploit your creativity, instead of going to other cutting cables.
sounded pedantic, and it was. Augustine knew that was two years older than John, and instead of relaxing, it intimidated him even more.
_Me like to cut cables. _Contestó, Trying to sound ironic.
_Podrías ever write a screenplay. _Lanzó Juan without fear or scruple. More adrenaline. _When
want, clear.
The rest of the party went as any party with pleasant conversation, much alcohol and lots of great music and predictable. However, everyone was up early, and four there was hardly anyone. Augustine dismissed two extra girls with whom he had been talking, and was walking back home.
_Te carry. _Gritó Juan's girlfriend from the passenger seat of the car that was parked on the sidewalk. When everyone is drunk, everything seems easier, Augustine thought as he climbed into the backseat. They took many turns over an area of \u200b\u200bthe city that Augustine did not know. They stopped facing a terrible building, the door was glazed with gold borders. Juan's girlfriend gave it a kiss and got out, mietras Augustine spent the front seat. John started again, without waiting for his girlfriend enter the building. A Augustine did not seem right.
_ Why where you live?
_Cerca faculty.
_Perfecto. _Hacia Went there. During the trip, spoke little, the short, bumpy streets, whether the record that sounded at the time was boring or not. _It
here. Augustine _Dijo they passed in front of his home. John was quick to stop, but ended up about twenty yards ahead. Had to be seen again. _
When we talk about the script? _Preguntó Augustine and automatically felt stupid.
_Uf, I'm going to Spain next week, but when I call back and had a few beers.
_Ah, Spain? Vacation?
_Beca. One month.
_Ah. Well, I'll see you around.
_Claro.
opened the car door to exit. In the farewell kiss was as natural as breathing.

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