Four - Part One

This day proved to be an interesting one. I woke up alone again, did my morning cleaning, and had breakfast. Today was going to be different. So at noon, which was about fifteen minutes later, I decided to go sightseeing at the Panorama Pool. It wasn't really a pool. I mean, there was one, but it was about as wide as a grand piano, and maybe as long as a limousine. The place surrounding it was mostly wooden and covered with reclining seats for sunbathing, and there were four jacuzzis around the deck. Two were just as you left the aft-most lifts, and two on either side of the main pool. These were filled fast, and unless you were there before mid day, they'd be occupied to beyond recommended space.

In front of the main pool was an elevated, circular platform, with more chairs. This was usually the place where the games would be announced, and where the lines would form. It also happened to be where the drunks went on White Party night, after the old people had left and only people under forty and one drunk sixty-year-old, whom I absolutely adored, would be.

Behind the pool was the main stage, below where the zipline would finish, where the giant PSA screen was, where the staff would go after announcing the games and while they were being played, where that band played on White Night, and where the teen attention seekers would go and get as naked as possible without being asked to leave the stage. It was a mix of everything.

Behind that was the Bridge of Sighs, where a bridge with a strengthened glass floor would join the left and right segments of the ship. If this broke, you'd have a freefall of nine floors, and if you were lucky you'd land in the pool way below. That bridge is where my story will conclude, but not yet.

Towards the front of the ship, which would technically be the middle section of the ship, was the pool bar. There were two, but the lower one was always the most crowded one. This section would be as wide as the ship, and behind it was the Ocean Point restaurant, the highest one open to everyone. The bar had two staircases, one at either side, which lead to the second floor, where there'd be more staircases to get to the topmost level, and the bar on it. The second level would prove to be my first vantage point. Since that's where there was the most shadow, and where I found my very first body for my eyes to feast upon: a lightly ripped, blonde twink sunbathing in what basically is a waterproof brief. Not boxer briefs. The old briefs, which showed all the legs. I was wearing my trusty gold sunglasses, so I faced directly in front of me, but my eyes were kept on him. He also had a fair face.

At one point, a girl came and sat right next to him. She sat on the edge of the chair next to him, and completely obstructed my view. Sometime during that long time that she sat there, a song that had a good rhythm came along, and I started bobbing my head lightly. Turns out, that while that happened I seemed to have turned my head to face them, and he seemed to have seen that. After talking to her for a bit, he glanced at me and violently bobbed his head for a few brief, heh, seconds. I froze, and started smiling to not make it more awkward than it already was, then left. Thinking back on it, he might've been testing where I was truly looking, and maybe I should've kept my serious face. I don't think I was being that obvious, but I had failed because of his girlfriend.

With total honesty, I felt happy he had seen me, I felt noticed.

But this was the problem most heterosexuals don't have: most of you never approach someone and think ‘what if he's gay?’ or ‘what if she's a lesbian?’. We do. Every time, we naturally assume they are straight, so our chances never even come up.

**

I hadn't seen him since last night, but it had been worth the wait.

It was still half an hour until we had to go to the Golden Sand for dinner, so I convinced my mother to go up a floor to see what was being done at the centre point of the ship: it was a giant space at the ship's middle section, four floors in total, with a stage at the second one where bands would usually play at this time in the night. Today it was a duo: two women, one with a guitar and another with some sort of specialised maraca, would play songs that were very soothing.

As we climbed the steps to the third floor, I saw one of the teens I had only seen at the lines before boarding the cruise, specifically the second one. He was dressed in a casual sport outfit, as were most teens here, with a white t-shirt and blue denim chinos. He hadn't seen me, but it didn't bother me at all: my attention was already on someone else.

As the duo finished their song, we saw it was time for our dinner, and so we went. This was when I completely fell for him.

We seemingly came down the stairs at the same time, and the suit he wore could make him the Sexiest Teen of the World: he wore a white shirt with thin but visible silver details in it, which glimmered softly with the staircase lights. His pants were perfectly white, probably the only thing that could make him look like your average day to day Joe. But he wasn't. He wore a blue vest over his shirt with a bowtie if the same colour, and I cannot explain how beautiful he looked. Except for this:

He caused within me feelings I have yet to understand. The best way I can possibly describe is the following: every time he opened his mouth I wanted to scream into a pillow. Not of anger, but of desire. Knowing I was this close to him made me uneasy. I was truly afraid to be next to him, since I wasn't completely sure I could behave normally. His voice was soothing, the type that you can hear for hours without getting tired; the way the longer you hear it, the more in love you fall with it. The laughter was a delight to hear, and if ears could taste honey that is what they'd taste. A perfect volume I might as well add, not booming or too faint that you'd have to try and make out what it sounds like. His face didn't help either. Smooth features with a pale white face, beautiful golden hair, and eyes as green as emeralds. The two piercings he had over his right eye gave him the look of adventure, or rather one of not being afraid to try out new things. His lips were as smooth as the rest of his skin, and scarlet colour made them incredibly appealing. The type which your body craves to know better with your own, and mine were craving those lips every second he was within sight of my eyes.

And there I was: in a t-shirt with lime green yacht shorts. I told my mom to excuse me for a minute and went up a floor. Then I fucking ran up from deck five to thirteen, almost tripped over someone I'd meet the night after the next, and fucking ran to my room. There I took a two minute shower to cool off, and dressed in what I found the most appealing for a Gala night: a complete black collared t-shirt, and dark red jeans. I bathed myself with my perfume as I was scared the smell wasn't totally gone, and left the room quickly but careful not to exhaust myself and sweat. I came up to the lifts and mouthed, perhaps too visible for a room full of old people, fuck no.

So the stairs were taken, and it wasn't nearly as tedious going down to deck five from thirteen, and I felt smooth. Looking in the staircase mirrors at myself every time I could made my confidence go a little higher each time, unlike my pants which came down with every step I took. Apparently these were about a number too big, and there was no time to go change again. So at every floor I checked for people, and if there were none I'd pull my pants up. This was done in every floor, until about the sixth one, where there already people forming lines. So I pulled my pants up one last time, tensed my muscles and bulged my shoulders, and walked down to the restaurant.

The night was usual, the same people in the same places with the same waiters, were in their usual spots. I don't know why I had expected this night to be different. It was just the Gala that had taken me by surprise, and so had he.

I was enchanted: very last possible chance to look at him, regardless of how risky it might be, was taken. He was so beautiful that night in that suit, and his eyes, those emeralds, with that golden hair. All I wanted at that moment was to lie in a bed with him, without his suit, and my head resting on his topless chest. I wanted to kiss his beautiful lips until they lost their scarlet enchantment. I wanted him to just stroke my hair as I fell asleep on his chest, and wake up the next morning with him.

I had entered a trance of desire, and my mother seemed to have talked all time I was in it, and she just had to wake me up from it. She had to go to the bathroom and told me to keep an eye on her wallet, but I didn't register most of it since I was trying to keep that fantasy from disappearing. So she went, and I started humming The Phantom of the Opera to myself, which was made in attempt to return myself to the fantasy I had had.

But then the food had started to be served.

My mother came back about twenty minutes later, saying how the line to the bathroom was huge, and everyone took ages. She was talking a lot, I was listening a little, for I didn't really care. I had delicious food without awkward silence, and a Greek God dressed in a suit on the next table. I had taken her wallet to my side so that it wouldn't be stolen, and she asked if it had been taken. I said it had been stolen, as a joke, and thought to myself, while I was making out with him.

Clearly that hadn't happened. I was just extremely bored, for aside from the glances that I could make, there wasn't anything in there to entertain. And I know, dinner's for eating not being entertained, and I'd tell you to shut up but you're right. I had come expecting entertainment as the Italian Night, but didn't know it was a one time thing. The Gala night was supposed to be a fine dinner, with the regular amazing food, and it was. I just wished I had more people to spend it with.

But it wasn't all sad, because every time I heard him speak my emotions went haywire.

**

That night after dinner, I felt I was dressed pretty nice, so I went to look for a hookup. It was obvious I wanted him over everyone else, but everything he did was done with his sister at his side. So I decided to enjoy him as best as I could visually at dinner.

I was not completely familiar with the cruise then, but I knew that where there was music, there were people. The place I found myself in was the Haven Lounge, and I saw the same teen from the pool there. He seemed to be by himself, but lord was he shorter than he seemed. Maybe five foot and six inches? I didn't register his size at the pool for I was too focused on his chest area, and his, ahem, uhm, extremely tight briefs. I decided to go up to him and ask him if he wanted to dance, as there was a classic rock band playing. As I made my way up to him, a girl came around and hugged him. Oh no you don't, girl. I thought to myself. But then she placed herself in front of him and kissed him on the mouth. I froze, but didn't lose all my hope, for he seemed uninterested. He just looked at her and smiled, but didn't go for another one in return.

I went to the bar to get a clearer view of them, since they had seats at the end of it. After observing for a while it became clear that they were a couple, since she constantly reclined by him and on his back, held hands, and she dragged him away after a bit. Sometime between that, another teen couple arrived and sat right next to the former one; this one had a tall male teen, slightly tanned, just like the other one, teen with black hair and sharp features. This one was tall, probably 6 feet but thinner, almost skeletal. Take away about one inch in his total figure and he'd have an anorexic look. But he looked friendly, and had a constant smile on him, and he seemed more than interested in his own girlfriend. Constantly kissing her and hugging her back before lowering his hands to her ass and laughingly take them back from there. He actually looked more like a cunt. They seemed to enjoy each other's company, as they left the room together, to do what I assumed to be a foursome. We'll never know.

But hey! The night was still young! Plenty of teens were still out there! Some had to be gay, right?

So I left the lounge and went outside, to find basically every single adult that smoked there. The smell was immediately sickening, and if I stayed there for too long I was basically guaranteed to become a passive smoker. Not wanting to die of lung cancer at sixteen, I held my breath and walked hastily towards the aft lifts. These were my favourite ones, as they were rarely with people, and you just pushed the buttons inside it to got to your floor. Unlike the others where you'd select the destination desired, then proceed to wait for about fifteen minutes until the one you needed arrived. I once saw all the other three lifts open up and take people twice before mine arrived. Those are highly infuriating. Anyways.

As I arrived at the topmost floor, I stepped out and went to my usual spot where I'd sing at night by myself. But I wasn't.

At the Bridge of Sigh was a teen my age, golden haired and hazel eyes, dressed in a casual untucked Jamaican-type flower shirt, paired with scarlet jeans. He had a small nose and chin, and was very, very, cute. I looked at him, and he looked back, and did a thing that I thought no rational human being would ever do:

He stopped reclining against the railing, and walked towards me.