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Scarred
Scarred
Scarred
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Scarred

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Balancing a healthy relationship with friends and a new love interest can be fun and difficult at times. Adding an overly confused sometimes ex-boyfriend who’s on the down low into that environment brings an entirely different definition to the word trouble. Unbeknown to Tercel Banks that was the exact scenario he found himself in the middle of. For the good part of twenty three years, Tercel attempted to hide who he truly was from the world and for good reason. The one thing most of society finds harder to accept than a gay man is a gay, black man. According to the “people”, he’d been struck by lightning twice. But sometimes lightning is just a guiding light through a dark tunnel. This provocative story filled with adultery, heartache, and an abundance of men living double lives, causes Tercel to choose between following his heart and keeping a firm grip on his sanity. Throwing a little religious condemnation into the mix, makes for the ultimate test.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMar 9, 2020
ISBN9781728348117
Scarred
Author

Shawn A. Brown

For Shawn A. Brown growing up in a world where being yourself meant constant persecution or potentially losing those closest to you, writing Scarred was a true “finally able to breathe” moment for him. Growing up in Hartford County in the somewhat small town of Wethersfield, CT. "where everyone knows everyone", he'd longed for the day when a story could be told that highlighted the similarities of a homosexual relationship to a heterosexual relationship. The many adversities that fall on to members of the LGBTQ+ community aren't always given the attention it deserves and living as a homosexual isn't as carefree and fabulous as some people believe or others may portray. Being aknowledged for his writing skills throughout his school career, encouraged him to see that not only was writing his strongest passion but he could focus on something that he truly enjoyed for the rest of my life, hoping others would hear his voice through his words and find their voice within. Overcoming teenage angst and prejudgments from peers helped him understand what it's like to be different, and that different can be a positive in life.

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    Scarred - Shawn A. Brown

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    For Shawn A. Brown growing up in a world where being yourself meant constant persecution or potentially losing those closest to you, writing Scarred was a true finally able to breathe moment for him. Growing up in Hartford County in the somewhat small town of Wethersfield, CT. where everyone knows everyone, he’d longed for the day when a story could be told that highlighted the similarities of a homosexual relationship to a heterosexual relationship. The many adversities that fall on to members of the LGBTQ+ community aren’t always given the attention it deserves and living as a homosexual isn’t as carefree and fabulous as some people believe or others may portray. Being aknowledged for his writing skills throughout his school career, encouraged him to see that not only was writing his strongest passion but he could focus on something that he truly enjoyed for the rest of his life, hoping others would hear his voice through his words and find their voice within. Overcoming teenage angst and prejudgments from peers helped him understand what it’s like to be different, and that different can be a positive in life.

    SCARRED

    SHAWN A. BROWN

    41602.png

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

    © 2020 Shawn A. Brown. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    Published by AuthorHouse  02/25/2020

    ISBN: 978-1-7283-4812-4 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-7283-4811-7 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2020903960

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    CONTENTS

    Prologue

    Karma

    Rock, Paper, Scissors

    Lighthouse

    Bastard

    Fire Me

    Pretty In Pink

    The Sex Situation

    Issues

    Second Nature

    Roses And Gumdrops

    Dr. Quinn

    Pandora’s Box

    True Colors

    Passive Aggressive

    Something Ominous

    Only Faggots Play With Dolls

    Driving Towards My Future

    Pink Elephant

    Free Vacation

    Julie

    Conflicted

    Werther’s Original

    You Look Really…Nice

    Joint Account

    The Betterment Of Me…

    Epilogue

    PROLOGUE

    At what point is love simply not enough?

    Being hurt by those closest to us can sometimes open wounds more damaging than the hurt inflicted by strangers. It is these wounds that leave a lasting scar on our hearts and deep in our souls, forcing us to pick one of two options. We can allow ourselves to be so traumatized by the transgression that we now categorize every relationship as the same; doubting, mistrusting and building our walls higher and thicker with every encounter. Or we can grow from the pain, viewing each experience as a learning opportunity; to be wiser, stronger and less vulnerable because the signs are now illuminated for us to see, ahead of time. We are not at fault for opening our hearts and desiring to be loved. The fault lies when we create the illusion that we are blinded by that love so much so that we force ourselves into damaging, unhealthy relationships where the only good thing that can come from it, is the moment we break away. Continuing this pattern, welcoming the pain with open arms keeps us bound by false hope confined to a life of what if’s, maybe’s and the occasional, if only, leaving us forever…scarred.

    KARMA

    Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! The sound of my family’s overbearing attempt at the celebratory song echoed through my ears. Tercel, what are you waiting for? Blow out your candles. Nicole said, patting me gently on the back. Nicole was my one true confidant who knows me better than I knew myself. She’s not only my cousin, but has been my best friend since childhood. She could always tell when I was happy, sad, in love and definitely heartbroken. We are as thick as thieves some would say, my twin, and my right hand.

    My birthday. Oh how I love the month of July. Today marks twenty three years I’ve walked this Earth and if you ask me, I don’t have much to show for it. From the outside looking in, most people would believe I have everything a young man could want. Let’s see, I’ve got a reliable car, holding down two jobs currently and attempting to close on my first home. All is well in the world, or so it should be. The only thing missing is love…right?

    As the flame from the candles went out, I slowly inhaled the smell of sulfur in the air from the matches that lit them. As my eyes were closed, I felt the pressure of a hand forcefully pushing my head down into the cake below. With my nose and chin now covered in buttercream frosting, I lifted my head to see the crowd of grinning faces and fingers pointing in my direction. I glanced around the room for the culprit to find Giovanni a few feet away sporting his usual Cheshire cat smile. You’re dead! I shouted, lunging from the chair and racing towards him. At this point, he’d already taken the lead up the stairs and into the bathroom, closing the door moments before I reached it. Leaving the crowd to tend to themselves, I knocked gently on the door turning the knob at the same time. Who is it? He asked, using a very soft and innocent voice, as if he didn’t know I was chasing him.

    So this is the game you’re playing? I asked. For the second time I was greeted with a smile as he opened the door. That smile gets me every time. I almost forgot that I was supposed to be furious with him for pushing my face into my own birthday cake, in front of my entire family might I add. Slowly walking towards him, my heart beat faster as both our chests moved in sync. As his hand found its way to caressing my waistline, I lost myself in the soothing sound of his voice in my ear. I needed a reason to get you by yourself. He whispered. His soft, deep tone sent chills down my spine and found itself camped out in my nether region. Taking his finger, he wiped the frosting from my nose and removed it seductively from his finger, kissing me in the process. With the current exchange of buttercream in our mouths, I moaned, grabbing his pleasure in the process. Hard couldn’t begin to give it justice, as I manipulated it above his jeans. Fuck was all he could muster, as he bit my bottom lip, moaning with pleasure. Everything okay in there? Nicole asked, knocking on the door. Suddenly being forced from our moment of lust, I gathered myself while Giovanni adjusted. Opening the door, I was greeted with a smirk and the roll of an eye.

    What? I asked, innocently. Everyone’s waiting for you downstairs. It’s time to open your gifts. She replied. Oh, yeah, right. I’m coming down now. I said, staring at the floor like a child who’d just been scolded. I still wasn’t sure why I felt the need to hide around Nicole. She was fully aware of Giovanni’s and my relationship. Out of my entire family, she was the only one. To everyone else, we were just boys as he liked to put it. You might want to clean your face first. He said, tossing one of the decorative towels from the towel bar at me. I rolled my eyes and re-entered the bathroom, pushing him out in the process. Nicole followed behind me closing the door as Giovanni made his way back down stairs. Wetting the towel and wiping my face, I could feel her eyes burning a hole in my temple.

    You might as well get it out. It’s obviously killing you. I said with a smile. So you want me to remind you of how you’re playing with fire? Should I start with the part where if you don’t cut this out, you’re going to get caught or the part where you’re just nasty? She asked, giggling. Whatever. I knew she was right. Anyone could have been at that bathroom door a minute ago. I’m taking a lot of chances trying to keep this relationship a secret, but outside of Nicole, I’m not ready to tell anyone else. Besides the fact that I’ve only taken one foot out of the closet and Giovanni’s still hiding under a pile of clothes, I don’t think my mother can handle it. The thought of her marching me down the aisle of pews at church on Sunday to be delivered from my sins made my stomach turn. Or maybe it’s me that can’t handle it. I’m not ready to face that feeling of disapproval, or rejection. Either way, this has to happen on my time and now was not that time. That little Puerto Rican boy is going to get you in trouble. He is cute though. I can’t stand you gay guys, you’re all extremely cute. The rest of us are stuck with the skinny drug pushers or the overweight video game whores. This just isn’t fair. Nicole again took off on one of her rants. So, while she was lost in translation, I stepped past her and made my way back to the party.

    The next morning proved harder to get out of bed than I thought. This is the exact reason I don’t like Sunday events because it sets the tone for the rest of my week. I guess I can’t complain; the party was a nice gesture. Those two extra shots of Belvedere Giovanni shoved down my throat straight from the bottle, I could have done without. I knocked my alarm clock on the floor because the snooze button refused to work and I peeled myself from underneath the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed for another five minutes. You’re going to be late. My mother said, chastising me as she poked her head through the crack of the door. I look forward to it. I said snidely. Dragging my body off of the bed and grabbing my towel from the closet door, I zombie walked my way into the bathroom down the hall closing the door aggressively behind me.

    I let the water temperature get extra hot this time, almost unbearable as it hit my skin. Still I stood directly underneath the shower head with my head down, watching the water fall. I swear even in the summer, Connecticut has cold mornings. Don’t use all the hot water! My mother called out, banging on the door. She immediately took me from my fortress of steam as I turned the water off. Okay Teresa! I responded, knowing full well calling my mother by her first name infuriated her. Watch your mouth! She shot back without hesitation. Watch yours. I mumbled, stepping out of the shower. Wiping the mist from the mirror, I stared at myself for a few seconds thinking back to yesterday’s events at this very sink with Giovanni. The water that had beaded on my brow was now running down the side of my face, tickling my skin. Not wanting to waste any more time in the bathroom, I wrapped myself in my towel and headed to my room to dress.

    Stepping out of my 2003, all black, Mazda Six getting ready to head in to work, I gave myself a final once over before shutting the car door. I’m not the finest thing on the block, but I’m cute. I like to consider myself a prime cut of beef. Standing at 5’10, toasted almond skin, short dark brown wavy hair and a whopping two hundred and twenty pounds, yeah I said it, two twenty. I’m thick, but definitely in all the right places. Who was I fooling, I looked four months pregnant. I’ve got a smile that lasts for days and I’ve been told I have the perfect lips for…well we don’t need to go there just yet. Another day, another dollar I thought to myself, brushing a piece of lint from my black distressed Guess jeans I picked up at the mall last weekend. All white uptowns and a white v neck sealed the deal this morning. But I couldn’t leave the house without being laced in my usual accessories and Maui Jim sunglasses.

    You know this store is beyond dirty, why are you wearing white? Jasmine said, walking up to my car. Jasmine Hunter was an on again, off again friend and coworker. A couple of years younger than me, we met through my younger brother Aaron who she graduated high school with. Do I look like I plan on doing anything that involves me getting dirty? I replied with my usual sarcasm. Jasmine and I unfortunately worked for the same small discount home furnishings store. I had the pleasure of being assistant manager and she had the pleasure of having me as a boss. Being friends with most of the people you worked with was a plus when it came to going to work every day, but the added bonus was that I worked with Giovanni.

    Nice to see you could join us today. Eric, my overly cocky, slightly attractive boss commented as I entered the office and placed my keys down on the desk. I know, I know, I’m late. I had to stop for gas. I lied. Who cares, I’m here aren’t I? Eric could care less. As long as the store was running and nothing exploded, the employees here could do as they pleased. He at times cut me slack because he was also Giovanni’s best friend and he knew Giovanni and I were friends as well. Besides, with all of the less than legal activities going on in this place, he didn’t want to cross me. Look what the cat dragged in. Long birthday night huh? His voice drove me insane, but in a good way. As my spine tingled, I turned my head slightly as Giovanni entered the office, placing his hand on my shoulder. Offering a summer morning smile, I turned my focus to the paperwork waiting on my desk, and sat down in the chair behind me.

    I guess I should have stayed longer, looks like you had fun. He said, moving to the other side of the room. Now he knows damn well that he was there until the bitter end. That wasn’t just anybody that had me pressed up against the side of my mother’s condo, sucking on my neck. I guess you should have. I said giving him the cover he wanted. How come I didn’t get an invite to this party? Eric added. Sorry, only the cool kids were invited. I said, laughing hysterically. Oh, I almost forgot, Tony said he needed to talk to you when you got in. He said. He needed to talk to me? I asked innocently. Tony Santos, my Latin dream. The look on Giovanni’s face was more than priceless. He hates Tony, with all the passion he could muster. Tony doesn’t hide the fact that he wants me and he openly flirts as often as possible and it pisses G off.

    That fool don’t want nothing. He needs to stick to stocking them shelves before I fire his ass! Giovanni growled and so the tantrum began. Boy, you are nobody’s boss around here. Who are you firing? I asked, smiling as I exited the office to find my admirer, just before putting G in his place. I couldn’t make it two aisles within the store and Giovanni was on my heels. He’s relentless and so obvious. I couldn’t help but snicker. Hey cutie! Marisol shouted from down aisle three. Good morning. Waving like a pageant queen. I couldn’t help but continue my glide in slow motion after that shout out. Marisol Garcia was Giovanni’s younger brother, James’s girlfriend. Marisol was definitely on the weird side. Short, stocky Puerto Rican girl with long black hair and a crazy sense of humor. She was cool, but you could only take so much of her at one time.

    I heard you needed to speak with me. I said softly as I approached Tony from behind. You heard correct. He responded, with his back turned. From the corner of my eye I could feel Giovanni burning a hole in the back of my head. If he could take this lamp off of the shelf and bash both mine and Tony’s heads in with it right now, he would. Was there something wrong with the schedule I made? I asked. His cologne sent me in overdrive. Damn he smelled good. His light green eyes only complimented his vanilla complexion. Tony was slim and bow legged, with a light mustache and goatee to match. Although of the Latin persuasion, he had a thuggish white boy persona. There was something about that crooked bottom tooth of his and the tattoo of the Chinese symbol for respect on his neck that made me melt inside and he knew it. As fine as he was, he didn’t compare to my baby. In my mind Giovanni had Tony beat ten times over. My man had skin the complexion of almond butter, and although he was short, he made up for it where it counted. He had deep dark brown eyes and a line up straight enough to drive a car on. He was slim like Tony, but had a slightly more muscular build. Not that I’ve seen Tony…okay, I’m lying. He just happened to be changing his shirt in the break room one day after work and I just happened to walk in at that very moment.

    Stop playing games. He said, waking me out of my day dream. What games? I asked. I made sure Giovanni had a full view of my back the entire conversation because I was not going to infuriate him by seeing the current smile on my face. Are you chilling with me this weekend or not? I asked you two days ago if you wanted to go to Lighthouse with me. Lighthouse was a hangout spot at the beach everyone visited during the summer months. No one cared about swimming in the water. It was just a cool spot to chill, smoke, drink and fuck. I’m not going to lie. As much as I did want to go, I couldn’t do that to Giovanni. I loved that boy no matter how angry he made me some times.

    Who’s going to Lighthouse? I want to go! Jasmine came barreling around the corner. You are so nosy. Don’t you have a floor to sweep or something? I asked, annoyed by the sudden intrusion. Think about it and let me know. Tony said. I will. I replied, glad that the conversation didn’t go any further, but pissed that it couldn’t. I don’t even know if that makes sense. Oh and tell your man to stop eyeballing me. He said, walking away. I sighed and turned towards Giovanni, but he was gone. I guess I’m free to work now. I mumbled. Who was he talking about? Jasmine asked, escorting me down the aisle. I don’t know. You know Tony is crazy. I lied. This need to lie is beginning to be a pattern. It’s starting to become my life and I don’t like it. You know he likes you. She added. Don’t remind me. I said, bending down to pick up a piece of paper from the floor. You should give him a try. You’ve been lonely long enough Mr. Banks. He’s sexy as hell and you can tell he has a big dick. Oh, the things I would do to get with that. She said, drifting into her own fantasy world. The problem is we were currently sharing the same fantasy.

    Both Jasmine and Marisol knew I was as close to being straight as Eric was to being a reliable manager. Marisol on the other hand was the only other person besides Nicole that knew about Giovanni’s and my relationship. That revelation came about only because she’s dating James and somehow figured it out, but James doesn’t know. But she’s been sworn to secrecy, so we’re cool. Jasmine on the other hand, if she ever found out, would put out a column in the next church bulletin. That girl couldn’t hold a secret if the secret paid her itself. I know she suspects something because she drops little hints here and there and it’s getting harder every day keeping this to myself. I’m assuming you enjoyed yourself last night. I asked, coming up behind Giovanni. He was effortlessly placing a box of dishware on top of a shelf. He shot me an I don’t give a damn look and stepped down from the ladder he was standing on.

    What’s your problem? I asked, knowing full well this was phase one of his infamous tantrum mode. I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem? I refuse to do the answer a question with a question game. I’m not doing this with you today G. Either tell me what’s on your mind, or drop the attitude. I said trying hard to stand my ground. Who are you talking to like that? He asked angrily. Here we go. Now I know I’m starting something I’m not prepared to finish, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. There’s no way I’m going to let him have his mood swings and just brush me off like this. I’m talking to you. I added with extra sass in my tone. If there was an award for angry female impersonations, I’d win. Conveniently taking a step back in the process, I just knew shit was about to hit the fan. With each step forward he took, I took one back. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in closer. Will you two stop playing around; we’ve got a shipment coming in this morning we have to prepare for. Eric said rounding the corner. Whew, saved by the bell.

    I’m taking a break. Giovanni said, storming down the aisle and out of the store. What’s his problem? Eric asked. I don’t know…he’s your best friend. I answered nonchalantly, knowing full well what the problem was.

    Hours went by and it felt like I’d been there the entire day. I was dreading the thought of stopping off at my part time job and checking in when I got out of here. So on top of keeping Eric from running the store in to the ground, I’m a part time junior realtor for Perkins and Maury Real Estate over on the south end. I know it may seem like a lot, but I can pretty much set my own schedule as a realtor. My boss is cool and as long as I make sure my clients are seen and I frequent the monthly meetings, I’m doing a good job. Which reminds me, I have a meeting later this afternoon that I cannot be late for, so I’m going to need to skate out of here early. I need a favor. I said softly. What? Eric asked rolling his eyes. It was like he knew what was coming next. I need to leave early. My words came out so fast; even I couldn’t comprehend them completely. Where do they allow employees to come in late and leave early? He asked. I have a meeting I can’t be late for Eric. Come on, don’t make me beg. I said, using my sad face as ammunition. I’ll let you leave early on one condition. You cover my closing shift tomorrow. He bargained.

    Now he knows exactly how much I hate closing, so this was definitely a hard choice to make. Do I make it to my meeting late or suck it up and close for this fool? Fine, I’ll do it. I gave in. Cool, Giovanni and I are hitting up the strip club tomorrow night, so I need time to get fresh. His words hit me like a freight train running off course. Don’t show emotion, don’t show emotion is all I kept telling myself. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear Eric did this shit on purpose. It’s like he looks for a reaction out of me where G is concerned. I’m not giving him the satisfaction. But I can’t believe Giovanni didn’t tell me about this. I should curse his ass out. Who am I closing with anyway? I asked with an attitude. Tony. He said, walking back into the office. Ok. I replied with a smile. Karma is definitely a scorned gay man.

    ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS

    After my meeting I swung by the mall to meet my right hand and grab an outfit for this weekend. Nicole has roped me in to going to an all-black party at club Satin, hosted by one of the hottest DJ’s in CT. I don’t normally frequent clubs because it’s just not my thing. But why let an opportunity pass to piss G off for going to the strip club. And it wouldn’t hurt to dance a few of these pounds off in the process. At least that’s what I force myself to believe. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not your typical gay man. I’m not the extremely flamboyant, brightly dressed, makeup wearing drag queen that most gay guys are labeled as. My voice may be a little lighter than some men and when prompted I can walk in a show better than most models, but for the most part, I’m a dude. Eh hem, excuse me Ms. Fenton. I cleared my throat. Hey! She shouted, trying to acknowledge me and keep her eye on this black form fitting dress she found on the rack. Found something already I see. I glanced around the store making sure there wasn’t anyone cute I should be giving my attention to. Hey, I’m taken but I’m not dead.

    I don’t know, what do you think? She asked, holding the dress up to her body. I would kill to be that small again. Nicole’s about five feet six inches and a hundred and twenty seven pounds on a good day. It’s cute. It’ll look better on me, but you can pull it off. I added. Now consoling myself from her right jab to my arm, we laughed it off as she put the dress back on the rack. You know what I’m craving? I asked, making my way towards the entrance. That Chinese food from the food court? I swear she lived in my head. I was craving some bourbon chicken and rice. Just before I finished my last spoonful of rice, my phone rang with Giovanni’s picture on the screen. Hello? I answered. What you doing? That was his favorite line. There was never a, hi, how are you? Just straight to the point. Grabbing a bite to eat. What’s up? There was a pause in the phone followed by heavy breathing. Come over. He said, finally breaking the silence.

    So you’re talking to me now? I asked, picking up from where we left off at work. What are you talking about? Yo, stop playing games. You coming over or what? He asked. The tone in his voice meant he was annoyed and horny. I’ll be there after I finish shopping. Judging by the heavy sigh in the phone, that was definitely not good enough. It doesn’t help that I’ve got Nicole giving me a death stare because she knows who’s on the phone and she can tell there’s about to be a problem. It’s not that Nicole doesn’t like G, it’s just she’s protective of me and she doesn’t think he’s one hundred percent genuine at times. What are you shopping for anyway? He demanded to know. Nothing and no one could take time away from us chilling when he wanted to see me. Now if it was me requesting some time, I’d have to wait. I’m trying to find something to wear to this all-black party this weekend." I know I should have kept that to myself until it got closer to the weekend, but what the hell. Let the chips fall where they may.

    After listening to a fifteen minute rant on how I need to stay my ass home this weekend from G, I found something I could wear to the all-black and parted ways with Nicole. Not before she gave me her own lecture might I add. Barely a half hour since I’d spoken to G, he was already hitting my phone up again. I sent it to voicemail and increased my speed down the highway. I had my music on blast. IPod programmed to Monica’s After the Storm album, I was in my zone. Can’t anyone tell me anything about my Monica and her soulful voice. A few moments later I pulled up to his house and glanced up at the third floor bedroom window. The lights were off, which meant he dozed off to sleep or was still in a mood. Either way, I was ready for battle.

    I’m outside. I said, once he finally answered the phone. Knock on the door. He replied, ending the call. He’s starting to piss me off. He’s worse than a bitch going through menopause. I knocked on the door and a few seconds later, James opened the door. What up T.T. He says. Hey James. Your fool of a brother upstairs I presume? I had to pretend I

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