..BeccaRachel had been trying to get me to one of her Sunday brunches for awhile. I always came up with some excuse, because I didn't want to beseen a... another 'gay woman in the industry.' Honestly, I didn't knowhow I saw myself and wasn't interested in a label. Y'know, they're forclothes and all that. But, I couldn't keep begging off without being abitch. And I had nothing to do besides.So there I was, standing outside their apartment door, clutching abottle of champagne and some OJ. I. Tossing the bag on the living roomtable as he passes, the young man slips into the small room; the lightseeming too strong as he flops onto the toilet seat and wraps hisfingers around his head. The pain growls within and he tries to muffle agasp before something begins to shift within; the sound of his entrailspulling at each other a prelude before he quickly yanks himself up,presses down on the sink and sprays what little he had for dinner. Thecool ceramic uncomfortable beneath his hot flesh,. More

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