Chiron

“Cie-Cie…Chi…Earth to Chiron.” 

I blink at my face in the mirror, half covered in make-up, my surroundings emerging into focus around me. The muted lo-fi playlist I put on for background noise filters back, and I finally register the gentle voice trying to attract my attention.

I blink again and flick my eyes to Jade’s reflection. Jade is standing by my shoulder, a soft smile on their face, and rubbing a comforting circle between my shoulder blades. They must have finished getting ready and wondered what was taking me so long. I didn’t hear them come into my room, say my name, or even felt them rubbing my back. I can’t believe how long I lost myself in my reflection, oblivious to the world around me. 

One of my best friends and favourite people, Jade and I, couldn’t look more different. They’re taller, slimmer, and far more beautiful than me. This amplifies when they dress up to paint the town red. Jade’s long black hair is tied in a high ponytail, with little wisps framing their angular face. Tonight they chose light make-up, focusing on black eyeliner to enhance their midnight blue eyes and pale creamy skin.

They’re wearing a fitted black button down with the sleeves rolled to mid-forearm, and over that, a deep purple vest closed with silver buttons. To finish their ensemble, they chose suede black booties that are paired with slim fit, low slung, charcoal grey chinos rolled up at the ankle. Their fingers flash with multiple silver rings, and their wrists tinkle with stacks of silver bangles. Effortless elegance, thy name is Jade.

I, however, have dull olive skin, disobedient sandy blonde hair, and unimpressive hazel eyes. Plus, baked goods have always been my ultimate downfall, and being the owner and manager of a bakery-cafe is a constant test of my willpower. I frequently lose the battle, resulting in carrying a bit more weight than I’d prefer.

I try not to compare myself to Jade, but it’s difficult when they’re beautiful and ethereal, and I’m so, well…me. A hot mess at the best of times. I suppose, underneath it all, where it matters, we’re alike. We have similar values and personalities, even if Jade is more empathetic and far more patient, and I’m an insecure, anxiety riddled, people-pleasing wreck of a person.

“Are you back with us? I’ve been calling your name. Where did the fairies take you?” Jade asks, smile growing wider.

“Oh, don’t mind me.” I shake my head to clear it. “Just zoning out and questioning going tonight. I’d much rather stay in, curl up on the couch, and watch a movie.” Lifting my shoulders in a halfhearted shrug, I glance at them in the mirror, then dart my eyes to my lap, hoping that Jade won’t detect the true reason I don’t want to go clubbing tonight. No such luck. Jade is too intuitive. I’ve always said they have freaky mind reading powers. 

“I’m sure if you told Nic, he wouldn’t mind going alone, Cie-Cie. But you’ve been staying home a lot.” Jade takes their hand from my back to tap their bottom lip. Doubtless trying to think of a gentle way to reprimand me. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of fun, you know? We’re a little worried about you. I know you’re not officially a part of our polycule, just a visitor from time to time, but you’re still our best friend. We only want your happiness.” 

Slumping down onto the dresser top, I cross my arms and hide my face there. Jade’s hands resume gliding over my back, the gentle pressure coaxing me to share my thoughts. Like I said, freaky, persuasive mind powers. Or maybe I’m a pushover. With an annoyed huff, I turn my face towards Jade and shoot the fiercest glare I can muster. Jade makes a fleeting effort to keep a straight face before breaking into a beaming smile. 

“Aw, Cie-Cie! I love it when you glare at me. You’re so cute! Like a red panda in a fight pose!” Jade brings both hands up next to their face, imitating claws and quietly snarls. Then, breaking into laughter, brings the palm of their hand to their mouth to stifle their chuckles. I roll my eyes and let out another exasperated puff of air, lifting the ringlets around my face.

“Fine. I know I haven’t been having much fun since she left, but I’m trying! It’s difficult to muster the energy for anything but moping.” My shoulders sink even more. 

Jade narrows their eyes, mouth turning to a deep frown. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” they grumble, their words laced with annoyance. “You’re better off without her, and I’m glad she’s gone.” Jade crosses their arms and looks away. Few things disturb my friend, but my most recent ex is an exception. My mind drifts towards our relationship’s ugly end. 

“Earth to Chiron. You’ve left us again.” Jade snaps me back to attention. I’ve been doing that frequently. Zoning out, replaying events, considering alternate realities. A better outcome, perhaps, if she had wanted the real me.

I wrinkle my nose and mutter, “Sorry. I just stupidly miss her sometimes.” Jade pointedly raises their eyebrow, but I rush on before they can interject. “I know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, anyway, I came in here for a reason.” Jade blessedly changes the subject. “Nic finished showering and wondered if you’re up for the pre-game ritual? So superstitious.” They snort in mock annoyance at Nic’s quirky habits. “He’s gone without it and lived unscathed, so he knows he won’t actually have bad luck for the gig. It’s more for fun anyway. So, are you almost ready to go?” I’m distracted by their hands, dancing to a symphony of tinkling bangles as they talk. It amuses me to think that tying their hands behind their back might make it tough for them to speak, and I have to bite my lip to suppress a grin.

Jade is waiting for an answer. Did I want to stay home, or am I just stuck in a rut? It’s been at least six months since the break-up, and I used to love going clubbing. I straighten up and scrutinise my reflection. Yep, still rumpled work clothes and a half-hearted attempt at applying make-up. I take a moment to sweep my eyes across the room. It’s just as messy. The closet doors are wide open, outfits littering the space half assembled and strewn over the bed, my shoes heaped in a tangled pile in one corner. 

With a laugh, I turn to face them. “I’m far from being ready! I haven’t picked an outfit and I’m still talking myself into bothering at all! Being sociable fucking sucks.” I shudder over-dramatically while Jade makes a face at my ridiculousness. 

Prior to the ex, our pre-game ritual was the highlight of a night out, giving Nic relief from lingering performance anxiety and relaxing us both before hitting the town. My ex never understood or approved of polyam relationships, which led to multiple massive arguments, and put an end to any intimacy between Nic and me, ritual included. I missed it, and it’d be nice to feel back to normal, even if it’s nothing but a placebo.

Thinking back to how it all started brings a rush of nostalgia. In high school, Nicolas played basketball, and he was damn talented. Not your typical Hollywood jock, he and his diverse group of friends had no tolerance for bullying, he was open and vocal about his bisexuality, and a generally well-rounded guy. He was stereotypical, however, in that he’s superstitious. When he thought something gave him good-luck, if possible, he wanted it to keep happening.

We met freshman year in LGBTQIA+ club and started dating. Not long after we started having sex, Nic noticed a pattern. Every time I blew him before a game, they won. It didn’t happen the same with other sexual acts; it had to be a blow job. Seriously, we ran tests. It was ridiculous.

Despite my doubts, Nic’s unconventional approach led the varsity team to victory in the State Championships. Two years in a row. They got a giant trophy for the school’s display case and everything. So who am I to mock science and perfect excuses to have lots of oral sex? I’m rather proud of myself for helping to achieve those victories. Even if no one’s the wiser, it was our horny, lust fuelled antics powering them. 

When Nic started amateur drag gigs in college, he assumed the idea was the same. Stage shows are like playing sports, so the pre-game blowjob ritual would guarantee good-luck, right? I think he didn’t want to give up the aforementioned copious amount of blowies. Whatever the reason, we kept it up. Until the ex. But without her interference, our relationship can be lighthearted and intimate again.

As I think about our silly ritual, a smile pulls up my lips. A little giggle-snort escapes as I remember a hilarious incident involving the school’s janitor closet and a furious Head Coach. My mind shifts to the more recent times we’d enjoyed our ritual. After Jade came into the picture. Blood rushes to my cock, already eager from the dirty memories, and a realisation hits me. 

I lift a heated gaze to Jade and rasp, “Jade, are you going to fuck me while I blow Nic?” My cheeks flush with anticipation. “Please? I haven’t had you in ages. I miss you and it’d make me feel so much better.” Jade’s gaze on me darkens at the thought. They lean in close, placing their cool, ring clad fingers on my hot cheeks. Spicy wafts of their perfume tickle my nose, and I savour each breath. 

“Oh, my Cie-Cie, you’re absolutely beautiful when you beg.” They place a tender kiss on my lips. “Fucking you tonight would make me the happiest enby in the entire galaxy, but sadly, I can’t. I’m already running a bit late.” 

I pout at them. “Late? What do you mean? I’m confused. Aren’t you coming to the club with us? He’s been practising that song non stop. Don’t you want to see Bebe finally perform it?” 

Jade frowns at my disappointed expression. “I do, but I promised Leigh I would go to her gallery opening and didn’t realise the dates clashed. It’s important to her. Next time though, okay?” They lift an eyebrow in a silent request for forgiveness. Jade’s girlfriend, Leigh, is a multimedia artist and always the life of the party. Jade has anticipated attending her gallery opening since it was announced, expecting it to be an interesting occasion.

“Of course, rain check, no problem. I should go see how Nic is doing anyway and let you go if you’re running late. Tell Leigh I say hi and good-luck.” Jade pecks my lips again, then rises and walks to my bedroom door, glancing back at me.

“Thanks, I’ll tell her. Go out and enjoy tonight with Nic. Maybe you’ll meet someone to help get you out of your funk? You know the saying, the best way to get over an ex is getting under someone new!” They wave their fingers goodbye, and blow a kiss as they leave. I roll my eyes at their unending optimism. Like that’s going to happen.