GLACE: a yaoi romance 1

GLACE

~A Yaoi Romance~


I sigh as I begin to unpack the box of canned food. I am already exhausted from my morning job; I deliver newspapers to local stores. After delivering the papers I check back in with the office, then I head home and take a shower, eat, then driver over to this grocery store. Once I’m done here I have about a two hour break to rest. Later I head over to an office building where I work as a janitor.

I don’t particularly enjoy any of these jobs, but they are all I’ve got. Without them I would not be able to live on my own like I do. With these jobs I am able to buy my food, pay my rent and my odd number of bills. I can also feed my silky black cat, Shadow.  I understand the jobs I do are needed parts of my life, without them I would not be as well off as I am. I’ve been working since I was fourteen years old; at a grocery store, but not this one. When I was seventeen I moved out of my mother’s house and moved out into my own little apartment. Once I graduated I quit my job and used the money I had saved up to move as far away from my mother and that neighborhood as I could.

Once I moved here I got three more jobs and began my new life; I wouldn’t say I am happy with my life the way it is now. Always stressed, working, and scraping to get by, but apartments in this part of town aren’t cheap. This is a pretty high end city, lots of high-class stores, rich people in gorgeous suits; it’s hard to live here when you don’t have much money. Unlike most people though I have set living standers for myself. I will not allow myself to live dirt poor like I did with my mother. I like this city, it’s beautiful and everything has a brand name on it: Benz, Veyron, Saffron, Caviar, Prada, Gucci, and my favorite, GLACE.

GLACE, it’s one of the top ten clothing companies in the U.S, and one of the most expensive. People from all over the world come to New York City just to buy clothes at the GLACE clothing store. They make everything: dresses, suits, ties, purses, shirts, pants, even llingerie.  Everything in their store shines and carries its own level of high class to it. To me GLACE clothing is more than just a brand of clothes; to me it’s a way of life, it is its own spoken language. I would give anything just to wear one thing made by GLACE.

I’m blushing now. It is a dream of mine to be a clothing designer, to make clothes that look like the ones sold at the GLACE clothing stores. Sadly I don’t have enough money to but myself into college, or do I have the time. If I quit one of my jobs, then I can’t afford to stay at my apartment. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. Still, often times I find myself doodling on scraps of paper, drawing beautiful clothes. Wishing for someone one to wear them, but it will always be just a wish.

I let out another long sigh, I am just so tired. The bells on the door to the store chime, alerting me that someone has come in. I look up and my eyes are locked onto the beautiful stranger standing before me.

I can tell right away that he has money, but not only that but he is a real knock out. He looks young, in his early twenties. About my height, slim and slender, with pale skin; and his eyes are a stunning shade of jade green. His hair is a shining strawberry blond with dark auburn and platinum highlights. Highlights? Maybe he is a model or something; he has the looks for it.

Even with all this man’s beauty, what holds my attention the most is the gorgeous suit that he is wearing. It’s a dark blue with thin white and light blue pin stripes. The material is shiny and looks freshly pressed; like it just came off the racks. The buttons are a shiny gold, most likely real. This suit gives the man a since of power, class, elegance and pride. He wears it well, like it was made for him. I know right off the bat that this is a GLACE suit. I’ve starred at the clothes in the window long enough to know GLACE when I see one. I can see it, the hidden language, and the love that is put behind each and every piece of clothing sold at GLACE.

Suddenly there is a loud clattering sound, I realize that the cane I was once holding has slipped from my fingers and is now spinning around on the floor. I see the man look over at me; I blush and turn away from him.

Did he notice me staring? I bind over and pick up the cane, only to drop it once more when I feel a hand press against my backside and squeeze. My body tenses and I have to remind myself not to yell.

"Cute ass."The voice is malem and there is a light accent; it sounds almost Swedish. The tone is sly and mischievous; clearly he is enjoying this. I take a deep breath and stand up; I do not turn and look at him.

“Sir, please remove your hand.” The man pulls his hand away.

“Aww, your no fun, I was hoping to see you squirm or something.” He sounds disappointed.

“Such a display would only accomplish in me making a fool of myself.” I pick up the cane and finally turn my attention to him. As I suspected, it’s the man in the suit. He smiles at me; it’s a smile that could charm any woman out of her clothes.

“Wow, your, I guess I wasn’t seeing thing; and your eyes, there a beautiful crystal blue.” He eyes me up and down. The act makes my slightly uncomfortable, but I try my best to ignore it. He is not the first man to eye me; but he is the first to not hide his interest.

“Thank you Sir.” I pick up a few more canes and start placing them on the shelf.  

“You’re so polite, how old are you?” I could feel his eyes on me, molesting me. This really does not bother me too much.

“I’m twenty-one.”

“Your about my age, I’m twenty-three. Can you tell?” He crouches down next to me and gives me a dashing smile. I glance over at him, why is he even talking to me?

“Yes Sir, you look quite young, although your suit gives you a more mature appearance.”

“You think so, I love suits. They make me feel more suave and classy. I really can’t describe it, it’s just this feeling I get when I wear a GLACE suit. You know?” I look over at him, he is smiling down, silently rubbing the sleeve of the suit. It looks so soft, I wish to touch it. I’ve never touched GLACE before, the thought was enough to send shivers up my spin.

“I knew it.” I whisper it to myself.

“Hu? You knew what?” His eyes sparkle in the light and I can’t help but find this man very attractive. I don’t know why I bother to answer him but I do.

“I knew it was a GLACE suit you were wearing from the moment I saw you.” He stares at me as I continue to stalk the shelves with a variety of canned goods.

“You have a good eye, but how did you know? It’s obvious by where your working you can’t afford GLACE clothing.” He laughs a little; I can’t help but stiffen up a little. His words are true, but I can’t help but feel as though he is making fun of me.

“I am a fan.” I said, keeping my voice even.

“I’d say you’re more than that.”

“Perhaps” Suddenly his hand reaches over and grabs my chine, turning my face so he can get a better look at me. I stay calm and I don’t struggle; I only stare into his eyes.

“What’s your name beautiful?”

“Addison Kendrick.” It really does not matter if he knows my name or not, I probably won’t ever see him again, at least I hope not.

“Addison, that’s a very pretty name for a very pretty boy.”  The way he says my name with his accent sends shivers throughout my body. He turns my face back and forth, admiring me. I am not blind; I know I am a good looking guy. With my chine length black hair, bright blue eyes, and a nice body; I am any woman’s dream guy. Even while acknowledging this I’ve never once flaunted myself about, I like to keep to myself. There are more important things in life, such as self accomplishment. Who needs love when you have pride?

“Please Sir, I am busy.” I stand up, brining the empty box with me.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, you’re just so beautiful.” He stands next to me smiling. I realize now that he is a couple of inches shorter than me.

“Say Addison, can you dance?”

“What? No, I can’t.” I start to walk away, becoming slightly irritated with the man. His presence is arrogant and he has no concern for other people’s feelings or personal space. Why is he even in this store? It is obvious he can afford something better then snack foods.

“Well, you can always learn. Hey wait up, you never ask what my name was.”

“I didn’t see it to be necessary.”

“Really, but what happens if we meet again?”

“And what makes you think we will meet again?”

“Because I think I can help you.” I stop walking and look back over my shoulder; I am caught off guard by his words.

“Help me with what exactly.”

“With money, it’s not cheap to live in this city; just one job won’t cut it, especially one job like this.” He looks around the grocery store, a smile still on his face. It seems that is all he can do is smile. “I believe I can get you a better job, if you’re interested that is. You would only have to work nights, and depending on how good you are, it would be safe to say you could probably quite your other jobs.” As I think about his words they are hard to believe, what kind of job could he possibly be talking about? Drugs? Something illegal I bet.

I don’t say anything; I just stare at him, not knowing what I should say. How does he know so much? Am I that easy to read?

“You don’t have to give am answer right away. Here take this.” He pulls a card out from his pocket and hands it to me. “Come here and ask for Swan. If you don’t come by this Friday you will defiantly be seeing me again.” I take the card from him and read what is written on it. The card is white, with black fancy letters that spell, ‘Club Monsieur.’ I flip it over and find an address, a phone number, and times. The place is close by, only a few blocks away.

I look up and the man is still there, just smiling at me.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes.” I don’t say anything at first, but as he turns to leave I call out to him.

“Would you please tell me your name Sir?” My heart beat speeds up when he looks back over his shoulder at me. He looks graceful and elegant, that suit really does his wonders.  

“It’s Alistair, Alistair Bloem.” The name rolls off his tongue and rings in my ears. It sounds beautiful with the accent that he says it in. “I hope to see you soon Addison, have a nice day.” The bells chime again as the door closes behind him and I realize that he didn’t buy anything.

I look at the card in my hand once more.

“Club Monsieur.” The words leave a tingly sensation on my lips. I stare at it for a few more moments. “What kind of place is it anyway?” I shake my head and shove the card into my jean pocket.

“Addison! Are you done yet?” I hear Mrs. Davis screeches my name across the store. I sigh, thanks to Mr. Bloem I was now behind on my work.

“Coming Mrs. Davis!” With that said I continue the rest of my tiring day, my only thought being whether to answer the card or not.