I was
finishing my final scenes for Gamelandia,
and once my shooting was done, Farris said he planned to take me to Skyros. It was a big, high-end nightclub
smack in the center of St Palma’s film district. It maintained a highly
restricted door policy, but Farris assured me he was a familiar face their and
not to buy a ticket. He’d get us in. This made Raf incredibly excited, so he
was all set to chaperone me. I preferred being carried around by laid-back Raf
anyway, rather than Farris, who had a tendency to talk rapid-fire and shift his
fingers around my torso restlessly as he gripped me.
Meanwhile
the main cast of Gamelandia were
planning drinks of their own, albeit less ritzy. Every so often they met up at
the Red Star Bar in the city, and tonight was one of these nights.
While I sat on a table under the shade of the prop-up cabana
tenting at the catering area, Alexa wandered past. Maybe she’d just come from a
scene, she looked distracted. Her eyes glanced over me and then did a double
take.
“Young lady,” I nodded.
“TINY MAN,” she perked up, wheeling around. “I WAS LOOKING
FOR YOU.” Ambling over, she lowered herself, hands on her knees, bringing her
face down in front of me, bathing me lightly in her minted breath.
“WE’RE GONNA HIT UP THE RED STAR TONIGHT. AND…I…” she gave
me one of her little eyebrow jumps, “…WANNA SEE YOU THERE.”
“Oh yeah?” I said.
“WELL, ERIC’S DITCHED AND…WE NEED ONE MORE PERSON FOR FIVE
PERSON DRINK DISCOUNTS – ABLE TO HELP US OUT?”
“Guess so,” I said, thinking about for a moment. It might be
nice for a rest after the shooting week. “Count me in.”
She beamed at me, straightening up again, leaning on one leg
as her posture relaxed.
“AWESOME. YOU KNOW WHERE TO FIND IT? IT’S JUST UP FROM THE
MARINA.”
“I’ll find it.”
Her eyebrows briefly turned down in a ponderous look.
“YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TAKE YOU THERE?”
Her hand slid into her hip pocket and rustled around, doing
a quick inspection of the interior dimensions, before her eyes lifted to me
suggestively.
A natural, innocent suggestion, but from my point of view,
the pocket was spaced right next door to her crotch, too close for comfort.
“It’s fine. I’ve got my own wheels.”
She grinned again, trying to bite her lip to stop it, but it
didn’t work.
“TINY MOTORBIKE. GOT IT. ADIOS.”
*
“RED STAR,”
Raf nodded, peering through the cars lined in front of us. Rows of commercial windowfronts
surrounded us on either side, signs flashing out of the dark from quaint café
balconies. Mopeds buzzed past the car window like insects, almost tauntingly. “WITH
THE BEAD CURTAIN.”
“It’s got a
half price drink special for groups of five people,” I said.
“FIVE FANS
FRIDAY?” her perked up with recognition. “BUT THEY STOPPED DOING THAT LIKE TWO
YEARS AGO.”
“Oh…Weird.”
I threaded my fingers through my hair, which was faintly slick with gel. “I
think they still expect me.”
Passing
bodegas we pulled up on the street and Raf carried me to the outside venue, a Cuban
bar. Gladly, there was no seedy bead curtain anymore, just an opening with the doorway propped open, smoky fumes
and golden light spilling out onto the street.
“Put me
down at the door,” I said, on impulse. The ‘tiny motorbike’ jab came back, and
suddenly I didn’t want to enter cradled in Raf’s hands like a baby.
“SURE?” Raf
hesitated.
“I’ll walk
this part.”
He stuck
his head through the doorway, and deciding it wasn’t too busy and the floor was
relatively clear and well lit, put me down in front of his enormous sneakers.
Inside was
a warmly lit speakeasy. With my phone under one arm, I bounded over the wood
parquet floor, craning my head up to scan the handful of people sitting at
tables that were elevated way over my head. The tables blocked out my view of
any faces, but the sounds of youthful voices and laughter drew me towards one
side of the interior.
Stopping
beneath the edge of the table, I was met by a collection of mega-sized shoes
tightened up with laces and straps that could have effortlessly bound me. As I
stared, the shoes slid and grinded over the floor in sudden unpredictable
jerks, and one of the shoes was bouncing. One of the girls was wearing tall
boots which towered over my head. The sole of one of the guys’ sneakers lifted
up, balancing on the toe, exposing flecks of dirt-caked gum. Deciding I’d seen
enough of the floor, I called up:
“You guys!
Down here!”
The seats
groaned and the feet shifted before the faces of Alexa and Jake leaned out over
the table edge and stared down at me.
“MADE IT!” Alexa
called down. There was a tugging sensation around my collar and my feet lifted
off the floor. I whizzed up through the air and the scaled up figures of the Gamelandia leads greeted me, or their
top halves seated around the table. And Eric had showed up after all.
The face of
Alexa loomed closest of all, her cheeks faintly blushing from alcohol. She
flashed me a grin.
“TINY MAN.”
As I
hovered in the air, she casually blew me a kiss in greeting before placing me
down on the wood tabletop. I put my phone down on the table, where it was
immediately snatched up by Jake, who began turning it around between his
fingertips, squinting at the screen.
“OH MY
GOD,” Megan said, staring at the phone, “WHERE DO I GET ONE?”
To her it
must have looked like a toy. She snatched it off Jake and then the phone was
getting eagerly passed around for inspection. I watched it jump from one huge
hand to the next, hoping some of the texts and photos Jen had sent me were not
among the phone’s open windows.
The kids
were talking about what their plans after filming wrapped. Cody reached for a
can of Stella Artois the size of a small water tank and slid it towards his
place at the table. The ring pull lid was snapped and the pressurized air
escaped with a hiss.
He took a
draught and grinned at everyone.
“JERRY’S MODELLING.”
“WHAT?” the
girls said in unison.
I stared at
him in surprise, and Cody looked down at me, shrugging.
“RAF TOLD
ME,” he explained.
“It was one
gig,” my shoulders relaxed and I tried to sound casual. “It’s…um…underwear.”
“OHHH…” The girls made knowing noises.
“MAKES TOTAL
SENSE TO ME,” Megan shot Alexa a look across the table. The smile clung to her
lips as she thought of me, I presumed, in my underwear, doing little poses. The
two of girls were taking me in, up and down, as if assessing my profile.
“Not like that,” I said, running my hand through
my hair, worrying it sounded like Playgirl pin-up stuff. I was still standing
so began to step over the table towards an empty space to sit down. Then
stumbled into a wall that made a ringing plink sound as I struck it. It was
Alexa’s glass tumbler, filled with red liquid and ice blocks.
She
giggled, and her hand dipped down from the sky to pluck the stringy orange zest
out of her glass. The wisps of vapour made my head ring.
“MEZCAL?”
she offered, waving the zest around under my nose as if to tempt me.
Without
hesitation she signalled for a waiter to bring over for a small glass, and they
returned with what looked like a tiny glass bottle for storing herbs.
“WE WERE
JUST PLAYING TRUTH OR DARE OR SWITCH,” Jake said, as Alexa poured a fraction of
her drink into the bottle and got a kick out of presenting it to me, standing
in the center of her upturned, flattened palm like a silver platter.
“I’LL BE
YOUR TABLE,” she said, keeping her palm held before me.
The surface
of her palm depressed gently wherever I put my feet.
“I’ve never
heard of that.” I said to Jake, bowing to heft up the tiny bottle.
“NORMAL
TRUTH OR DARE,” he elaborated, “BUT YOU CAN COME IN AND SWITCH THE DARE UP.”
As I
swilled from the tiny bottle, a subtle blast of warm air raced down the nape of
my neck and down the back of my collar. Certain that Alexa had just blown at
me, I stared up at her, but she was looking straight ahead, with her fist
pressed to her mouth.
It was
currently Cody’s turn.
“TRUTH OR
DARE?” Eric asked Cody.
“DARE,” he
said.
“YOU HAVE
TO GET SPAT IN THE FACE BY ALEXA.”
Cody leaned
back in his seat, and then shrugged. His show of hesitation seemed slightly
forced.
“OKAY.”
“MOUNTAIN
DEW,” Eric clarified.
“I CAN close my eyes
and mouth?”
“No – eyes and mouth
open.”
“SCREW you – I’m
closing them!”
“SWITCH,” said Megan. “FOR BEING A SMARTASS, you NOW have TO HOLD YOUR mouth open WHILE
ALEXA SHOOTS MOUNTAIN DEW INTO YOUR MOUTH.”
“SWITCH: MINERAL WATER,” said Cody.
“CAN’T SWITCH YOUR OWN DARE. DO HER DEW.”
“MOUNTAIN DEW LOOKS LIKE PEE,” Cody argued.
“You said that,” Megan flicked her
hair. “not us.”
“MOUNTAIN DEW MAY TASTE
WORSE THAN RAW SPIT,” Jake jokingly sympathized.
“JAKE KNOWS WHAT ALEXA’S SPIT TASTES LIKE,” Eric said,
probably referring to the fact they played the film love interests.
“NO DEW,” Alexa
suggested, pouring herself a glass of Pepsi. No one responded. “Pepsi. BUT NO Dew. I CAN’T STAND IT.”
“I CAN’T STAND CODY’S FACE,” said Eric. “MAKE YOUR AIM BAD.”
The kids laughed while Cody shoved him.
“FOUNTAIN!” one
of the kids suggested.
“GUN,” she
said simply. “THE ONLY WAY.
OTHERWISE HE’LL DUCK.”
She took a big mouthful of Pepsi and then leaned forward
towards Cody, lining her mouth right up with his face. His eyes were locked on
her, glazed with apprehension. His shoulders had stiffened, fighting the
subconscious impulse to move. Alexa swished the drink around her mouth for
dramatic effect, never breaking his eye contact, delighting in letting his
dreadful anticipation build.
Then let fly fierce stream. The same moment, Eric swung over, clapped his palm on the top of Cody’s
head and pushed it down and the stream of Pepsi went into his eyes. Eric
straightened and the kids taunted him for being an asshole while Cody reached
for a napkin and wiped his face.
Attention quickly went
back to the game.
“WHO’S UP?” Jake eyed everyone in turn, before his gaze
rested on me. “JERRY?”
My skin tightened with dread.
“TRUTH OR DARE?”
“Dare.”
Did I think they’d go easy on me because of my size?
“YOU HAVE TO KISS ALEXA,” Megan said, jumping in before
anyone else had a chance to suggest something. “ON THE MOUTH.”
Alexa’s chair creaked as her shadow glided over the table
surface, closer to me.
“SWITCH,” Cody said without break. “JERRY HAS TO KISS YOU, MEGAN.”
Megan flicked her hair back, her eyes pinning me and her
lips curling.
“READY IF YOU’RE READY, ‘TINY MAN’,” she drawled, mimicking
one of Alexa’s eyebrow jumps.
The Mezcal must have hit my brain because I found myself
taking assured steps towards the girl who was now sinking in her seat to bring
her great face down to the table. Her face expanded in view until it blocked
everything out, and mere inches from mine, hot, cocktail-peppered breath
pushing my hair back and rippling in my ears. As I drew my face closer, the shiny
pink lips wrinkled up as they pushed forward to meet me. Shutting my eyes, I
inclined my head the last stretch until my face touched upon the puffy,
slightly sticky surface.
At the moment of contact, the lips pulled into a sucking
pucker that gripped my face like she was trying to slurp my head into a
spaghetti strand. My face was screwed up by the muscular grip of her pucker,
while the gaseous fumes of her drink pounded into my eyes and nose, making me
woozy. The room shrank away into a tight black ball of nothingness, I was aware
of nothing but my heart drumming in my ears and the greater girthed girl
immediately opposite, glued to my face. Or rather, I was glued to her mouth, literally
unable to detach myself. Her lips were wrapped around me like a tight, hot,
clammy latex mask.
My hands patted at her chin, then began pushing. It was like
my face was stuck in a big vacuum nozzle. I made a weak whimpering noise. It
was drowned out by the sensual groan that erupted from Megan’s throat, surely dramatized
for the game, but the sound and the rumbling vibration against my lips and
cheeks sent blood plunging into my groin.
Something large bumped around my body, running around my
shoulders, down my back. One of my buttocks was pinched, the force of the
probing spreading my legs slightly and bumping my balls. Meanwhile similar
pressure stabilized itself against my lower belly, accidentally capturing my
member and softly grinding it against my thigh. I whimpered again into her
mouth. She was acting out a heavy petting session, stroking my body while her
lips suctioned at my face.
Without warning, her cheeks drew in tight and swelled as if
she was blowing bubble-gum, and a fierce spurt of warm air came gushing into my
face like a smack, and I went flying backwards until my spine hit the table, my
head conking the wooden surface.
Megan and Eric laughed, while Jake and Cody winced, and
Alexa froze up.
“Ugh,” I groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of my
head, but the mezcal had dulled my nerves. Plus, the hardening bulge in my
pants distracted me from any pain. I yanked my legs up in an effort to hide it.
“OOF,” Jake said. “OUCHIE.”
“MEGAN!” Alexa huffed. “NOT COOL!”
Megan’s brow cocked apologetically, her lips parted as if she
was about to say something, but Eric got in first:
“JUST A LOVE TAP.”
This caused a ripple of chuckling, and another helpless giggle
from the inebriated Megan.
Alexa surged up off her seat and swept away from the table.
I stared after her, nonplussed, while the others shrugged or averted their
eyes.
“HEY, ROMEO.”
A big object bumped my shoulder. It was Megan’s fingertip.
Her head hovered low over me, for one instant I thought she was going to try
and kiss me again.
“MAYBE YOU SHOULD CHECK SHE’S OKAY,” she said in a quiet
voice, though she didn’t sound very worried.
Snatching at the chance to extricate myself from the game, I
ambled over the table and before anyone could offer to help me, I leapt down
onto Alexa’s empty seat – still warm, and I tried not to think too hard that
her butt had just been pressed on it – then backed myself over the edge, bear
hugging a chair leg and sliding down to the floor.
The wood
floor was dappled in light and shadow. I trailed the lit areas, automatically
heading under a chair for protection. My shoes pattered with a tiny ‘tap tap
tap’ which was drowned out by the music. Eventually I passed through the
propped open entrance doorway, coming out against a wall of surprisingly warm,
blustery air.
From ground
level, the world was an endless, stony, gray world of monolithic buildings and
roaring, honking, blasting traffic.
It was
dark, clouds had rolled over the sky, releasing a spontaneous shower, filtering
the world behind a smoky haze. Drops darted in under the awnings and thwacked
and popped against my skin.
It took a
moment to locate Alexa, because she’d crossed the street. She was talking on
the phone, swinging along the street at a loose stride, down the opposite
sidewalk. To me, the narrow road was an asphalt river, and more dangerous to
cross unless I sought an instantaneous death beneath a spinning car wheel.
I jogged up
the gritty wet cement, keeping my eyes locked on her, and called out, but
rumbling engines of passing cars muted my voice. Without realizing, I was
nearing the edge of the sidewalk.
Then my
foot slipped on a crack and I stumbled. Suddenly the concrete dropped away, a
swooping sensation climbed up my body, before I crashed into cold water, and my
stomach curled like a fist. Water captured me in its sucking momentum, sending
me down a gushing gray river. The flash downpour had flooded the gutters
bordering the roads, one of these gutters now conveying me in rapid transit
down the street like I was embedded in the drive belt of a powerful machine.
Now passing
the shop façades going back the other way, I passed the open doorway of the
speakeasy, and kept going, pushed back and forth amidst the surging waters like
a cork. A series of passing car tires spun through a big puddle, sending wave
after wave of water over me, causing my head to get pushed under the surface of
the whirling gutter stream. Then my head broke up again, coughing and sucking
in air.
The
churning waters jostled me as I waved my arms, trying to convey myself by
swimming sideways to the concrete ledge, but the chill water numbed my body and
enfeebled my kicks and strokes. Ahead and rapidly approaching: a big, black
letterbox shaped maw of an open drain entrance, big enough to swallow me whole.
My jaw
dropped in horror and gutter water gushed into my open mouth, spilling into my
stomach. I wanted to puke but swallowed and kicked my legs with every last
ounce of strength. It was a dark mystery what awaited me in the drain, but I
guessed once I passed the threshold, there was no coming back up. My eyelids
shut as the water roared over my head again and this time I failed to surface
before the last of my breath was pulled out of my lungs, quickly replaced with
a mouthful of dirty water –
Something
swooped down and snatched around my head, yanking me up high into the air. Firm
pressure was stamped over my face, blinding me, but I could feel the air racing
and chilling my wet clothes.
The world
seemed to revolve as I was flipped over, upside down, ending with my back
dropping onto a cushy mattress, with a thick blanket wrapping securely over my
front. Once the pressure left my face, I found myself gripped in a giant hand,
feminine fingers keeping me enclosed.
Alexa’s
voice came out in a shaky start:
“NO, N-NOTHING,
I JUST GOT STARTLED.”
As she said
this, her thumb lifted to brush the raindrops away from my face and smooth back
my wet hair. Reassured I was okay, she breathlessly segued back into the phone
conversation, while chewing a piece of gum.
From my
view, looking straight up at her, she was a dim outline with features that
wavered and speckled under the intense streetlights, but I could tell she was snatching
glances down at me every so often, even if her facial features were a drizzly
blur.
Shivers ran through my body. Maybe the discomfort showed on
my face, because her thumb began to stroke my chest in gentle reassurance.
Ending the call, the phone was slipped into her pocket, and
suddenly the inside of her jacket swooped over my head and wrapped around my
shoulders. She spent a moment rubbing me around inside her jacket until I was
mostly dry. Then I was brought out again to be bathed in her full attention.
“SO WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”
“You saved me.”
She made an annoyed grunt.
“THEY DARED YOU TO JUMP IN THE DITCH?”
“No, I tripped.”
A fingertip grew big in my sight, swiping my brow, flicking
my damp hair back. Then her laughter swelled in my ears, seeming to thrum
through my skull.
“I almost died!” I exclaimed, disgruntled.
She kept laughing.
“THEN THEY’D HAVE TO GET ERIC ON HIS KNEES LIKE A HOBBIT TO
PLAY YOU.”
“I was
looking for you.”
“YOU WERE
LOOKING FOR ME,” she repeated.
Her breath
caressed my hair. I was compelled to continue:
“Just
making sure you’re okay.”
She
scoffed.
“ARE YOU? YOU’RE THE ONE TAKING A SWIM WHILE
BUZZED ON MEZCAL.”
Her eyes
softened and she aborted the conversational tone immediately.
“LOOK, SORRY,
I KNOW I TEASE YOU A LOT…”
She sucked in
a breath.
“IT’S ALL
COMING OUT NOW…I…LIKE YOU, TINY MAN.”
I wrung my
hands.
“I’m
engaged.”
She nodded,
her lashes falling wistfully.
“I GOT THAT
MEMO…RAF.”
“Speaking of Raf, I should probably go back inside. My phone
– I need to indicate a pick up time.”
“SURE. JUST ONE THING.”
She brought me barreling at her face, my eyes snapped wide
open just in time to see a pair of huge pink puffy masses projecting at me
before I was hit with a fierce channel of warm air spiced with mezcal and Pepsi.
My face was seized and tugged inexorably against her mouth, and for a moment it
seemed my head was being scrunched up by a huge compressing, vacuuming machine.
My heart fluttered in a panic as her lips seemed to grasp my face like strong
hands and mold my pliable flesh around like clay.
With my face tight in the depression between her smooching
lips, her tongue eagerly flicked over my lips and sponged around my eyes. It
probed my features delicately, working around in tiny massaging circles, and
then began flattening itself over the span of my face, squashing all my
features simultaneously. With one last wet, wrenching smack my head came free
again, I felt myself withdrawing and being lowered through the air.
But something was wrong my eyes were open but it was still
dark. I could still feel the moist, all-excluding pressure of the kiss even though I’d been
lowered. Only, now it felt heavier, like a big wet hand towel had been thrown
onto my face, trapping it tightly under his folds. Except the towel was sticky,
slimy, and elastic, but not too elastic; somehow like big bands of masking tape
stuck over my face. I couldn’t move my facial features without effort; couldn’t
open my mouth or shut my eyelids while I was wearing this huge blob as a face
mask. My eyes stung, helplessly exposed to the wet offending mask, and an
undeniable minty smell clung to my nose; spearing into my nostrils, as well as
the smell of rubber. I couldn’t wipe it off because her grip constrained my
arms. I shook my head but the pressure persisted, stuck my face like glue.
As I wondered how Alexa could have left so much lip gloss on
my face, and how it was so thick, she let out a gasp, followed by the sound of helpless
laughter.
A firm object came in and brusquely swirled around my face,
clearing off the wet mask, which was actually chewing gum. My slimy wet skin
turned cool instantly in the air.
“I WAS TRYING TO KEEP YOU OUT OF THE FIRING LINE, TINY MAN,”
she explained glibly, after getting her breath, and flicking the gum away. “CAN
YOU DO ME A FAVOR AND PRETEND THAT DIDN’T JUST HAPPEN?”
“I’m trying to.”
She began to walk me back over to the lit entrance of the
Red Star, music spilling out faintly.
“SO…BETTER THAN MEGAN?” she insisted, rising an eyebrow.
“Better,” I agreed, catching my breath, “until the end.”
“UH UH – NOTHING HAPPENED, REMEMBER?” she joked, giving my
scalp a rough rub with her knuckle.
“For what it’s worth,” I mumbled, “I think you’d get along
with my fiancée. If you’re ever around Bayside, you should visit us.”
“OH, HONEY,” She said dismissively, and smirked as she
contemplated my offer. I thought of her bar walkout moments ago, and bowed my
head, guessing what she was about to say before she said it. Jen had such
difficulty clicking with other women – God knows how she’d operate around a
slightly younger doppelgänger.
“I’M KINDA A JEALOUS BITCH LIKE THAT.”