Chris Irres didn't particularly like social situations.
He wasn't antisocial by any means, but he especially hated group things like parties. Right now, standing in the room next to the snack table, sipping his beer, he was wishing he could be anywhere else. He sighed, slipped his free hand into his pocket and leaned against the wall beside the table as he watched all the people chat or dance. "You know, just standing here and watching is kinda creepy," a young woman standing at the table, dipping a chip before biting into it, said, adding, "like you're looking for just the right person to kill at the end of the night." "Oh, god no, no, I only murder people I don't know. Don't shit where you eat and all that," Chris said, making her laugh; he smiled and held out his hand, saying, "I'm Chris." "Karen," she said, shaking his hand. She was pretty, there was no argument. She had medium length blonde hair, somewhat wavy, and big green eyes. She had the kind of figure you only have in your early twenties, and she had freckles across her face that time would eventually soften and almost vanish. Chris couldn't deny she was extremely cute, and he felt bad that she'd decided to talk to him of all people. "So do you like being here?" he asked. "Why? You asking so you can get me somewhere alone and kill me?" Karen asked. "Darn," he said, snapping his fingers, "you saw right through me." Karen smirked and ate another chip, then pushed her bangs from her face and sidled up beside him, leaning against the free bit of wall. They stood there, together for a few minutes in silence, simply watching the crowd. Chris finished his beer and shook the bottle, as Karen, her voice low now, whispered. "You wanna go somewhere?" she asked. "God please," he replied. With that, they got their coats and headed out. While walking down the street, Chris was surprised she'd been so forward. Rarely had anyone asked him to go anywhere, he was often the one who had to ask people, and more often than not he was turned down. It was cold out, but it wasn't freezing. Chris unzipped his jacket and then exhaled, running his hands through his fluffy messy brown bedhead. A few cars passed by, music blasting from the windows of some, and then he heard the sound of a lighter. Chris looked at Karen, who was lighting a joint and taking a long puff before offering it to him. He shrugged, took it and took a hit himself. "I get it," Karen said, "I mean, the whole hating parties thing, like, that I get. But why show up in the first place if you don't like being there?" "Eh, I came for a friend," Chris said, "Jeff, the guy who owns the apartment. How did you wind up there?" "Oh, my friend Marsha invited me cause she met Jeff at work," Karen said. "Imagine that, friends by proximity," Chris said. "Is there any other kind?" "Sure, genuine friendship, not just because you're in the same location but because you actually like the same things and actually like one another," Chris said, taking another hit before handing the joint back to Karen. "So you don't actually like me?" she asked, catching him off guard and making him cough and chuckle nervously. "Sorry, that...that wasn't what I meant," he said, "I, uh, yeah, of course I do, sure. You seem cool. You offered to get me out of there, which I'm grateful for, so there's that. Why? Do you like me?" Karen stopped and took another long puff before exhaling the smoke into his face, making him laugh and cough. She smiled wryly and, standing on her tiptoes, she whispered. "No, I don't, you just happened to be around, you know, that whole proximity thing," she said before kissing him. Chris was surprised by her forwardness, but he wasn't put off. He kissed her back, because, well, that's what you were supposed to, right? Men were supposed to find a woman to love and be with and start a family. Who cared if he was in love with his roommate at college, Eric? He could ignore that. He could. He could. He told himself that repeatedly because he hoped it'd eventually come true. *** "What color do you want this?" Karen asked, looking at the two paint cans on the table in the kitchen. Chris stood up beside her and, chewing his lip, waited for a moment until he finally pointed at the pale green, which made her smile and say, "That's exactly what I was thinking too." "Well then why'd you ask me?" he replied playfully as she picked up a screwdriver and popped open the lid to the paint can. They'd been married for 4 months, and had bought this small home in a nice quiet neighborhood thanks to help from his parents. Chris has recently gotten a job doing editorial work on a magazine, while Karen continued her way through the law firm she was working at, hoping to eventually work her way up the ladder instead of just being a junior attorney. Chris knelt back down to the floor and dipped his brush into the can again, then tapped his fingers on the floor and looked around the kitchen. "You know," he said, "We need to get some drapes for the window." "Yeah, I know, I was thinking of going into town tomorrow and seeing what I could find." "I'll go with you," he replied. "You don't have to work?" she asked. "No, I mean, I do, but it's not like I can't do it at night when we get back. I'll just stay up a bit late," Chris said, "it's fine. I'd much prefer to shop for curtains." Karen laughed and shook her head. A man who liked to go shopping with her? For CURTAINS? How did she get so lucky? If only she knew the truth. Chris helped renovate the entire home, even doing things that normally a wife would be expected to do. But she just loved him all the more for it, and what started as proximity did easily grow into that genuine appreciation. Chris was soft and gentle, understanding and compassionate. He was intelligent and protective but not aggressively so. He was everything Karen McMyers could ever have wanted in a man, and she couldn't believe she'd gotten so lucky to have found him. Karen's own mother had tried time and time again to find a man - she'd gotten pregnant with Karen in college - but it never really ended well. The more she thought about her mother, and thus her failure in love, the luckier she felt herself. She started painting a wall, then glanced over her shoulder at Chris and thought about what it'd be like to have children with him. He'd be a wonderful father, she thought, and soon enough she was proven right, because only a year later was their son Shane born, and then a handful of years later, Melanie, but... ...Shane was because they'd wanted to have a family, and Melanie was because they'd wanted to save their marriage. *** "I'm sorry," Chris said softly, looking at the floor as he sat on the couch while Karen leaned against the wall across from him, near the entertainment center, exhaling smoke from her cigarette. She shook her head and didn't even know what to say to him. "I just...I can't...I don't hate you, Chris," she said, "I just wish you'd told me this sooner." "I was scared," he said, and she nodded. "I understand," she said, "I'm...upset, I mean I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but I don't hate you for it. But we have two children together, you can't just...leave." "I don't wanna leave," Chris said, finally looking up, his face covered in tears as he wiped his nose on his sleeve, "god, I couldn't leave Melanie or you, or Shane. I...you're my family. I love you all so much. And...and maybe I don't love you in the way you hoped I would, but that doesn't mean I don't love you at all, because I do, I just..." Karen walked to the couch and sat beside him, rubbing his back. "I know, this has to be hard for you," she said, "but I am nothing if not open minded. For god sakes I smoked a joint in front of you within the half hour of our meeting. I think I can be trusted to be open minded. I understand why-" "No, you don't, Karen," Chris said, "My parents were so hateful growing up, not to me, but just to people in general. So bigoted, and so closed minded. If they found out I...oh god, I would've lost my ability to go to school, we wouldn't have this house, everything would be so different, and I couldn't do that. I had to have things good. I had to have what everyone else had. I had to come off as...normal." "Chris," Karen said, squeezing his arm gently, "you're normal, okay? People like you are normal. Please don't ever think you're not. We can make this work. You can...we can be a family without being together, and still live together, you know, for the facade or whatever. I want you to be happy. I do." Chris half laughed and half cried. How had he been so lucky to meet a woman this wonderful? He looked at her, and she smiled at him, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. Just then, from the hallway, they heard Melanie's voice babble something, and Karen wiped Chris's eyes, then told him to take their daughter back to bed, which he happily did. He tucked her in, he read her a story, and he stroked her hair until she fell back asleep. Sitting there, watching her, he knew he couldn't leave. He couldn't leave this beautiful little girl. He'd been given everything a man should want, and yet it wasn't what he wanted, but he was still thankful for it. She was his little princess, after all. *** Karen's voice was shaky, her hands trembling. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Chris was standing there, the both of them in the living room. The kids were at school, but it was almost time for school to be out. Karen ran her hands down her face, then reached into her purse on the table for a cigarette, fumbling to get one out. After she did, Chris lit it for her, which she thanked him quietly for. She took a long drag, then exhaled and looked at him again. "...what does this mean?" she asked. "...you know what it means," he said. "...what do we do?" she asked, "I mean, what do we do? The kids will...will obviously ask questions, especially as you get sicker, and..." "I know, and I don't know," Chris said, "They're young enough that I think we can feed them some kind of medical bullshit and they'd buy it, but that isn't what matters right now." "Am I sick?" "Of course not, we haven't slept together in ages, and I was always protected when with you," Chris said. "But never with them?" "I was," Chris said, "I...I don't know how it happened, honestly. You've read the news, you've seen it in the papers, you know this thing doesn't care how careful you are. It's gonna happen, and it happened to me now. Now what matters is making sure you're taken care of." Karen finally cracked, whimpering a little as tears rolled down her face. Chris stepped forward and wiped her face clean, then kissed her cheek. She looked up at him and smiled weakly. He took her trembling hand in his and squeezed it gently as she spoke. "All I ever wanted was you," she said, "from the moment I saw you. I'm so glad I got to be with you in some capacity." Chris smiled and nodded. "Right back atcha," he said, "now come on, let's go pick the kids up. We can talk about this later." But there wasn't anything to talk about. Chris had Aids, and there was nothing to be done. The future was set in stone now. Chris Irres was going to die, and Karen was just going to have to live with that. As the months passed, and Chris slowly began to get sicker and sicker - requiring Karen's help for anything and everything - she found herself taking her peace where she could. Late nights after he'd fallen asleep, she'd sit outside on the front porch and smoke, or she'd think about her mother. Her mothers failed romances. How ironic. Karen had been successful in love, and even then it didn't matter. Life still took it from her. When Chris was finally taken to the hospital, because he couldn't be at home anymore and required more care, that was when it hit Karen the hardest. That was when it became real, in a sense. Sitting by her husbands bedside, his skin pale, his eyes sunken, she would sit and read to him from the latest issue of his magazine subscriptions, knowing that'd make him happy. Sometimes he'd smile best he could at something she was reading, and sometimes he'd almost laugh but instead wind up coughing. He appreciated what she was doing, and that was all that mattered to him. His folks, when they learned of his illness, cut him off entirely. They never once visited, they never offered to pay for his bills. To them, they had no son any more, but that was fine. Chris Irres didn't need his family. He'd made his own family, and they loved him to death, and beyond. That night was still clear as crystal to Karen. She noticed Chris's head rolling to the side, like he was looking out into the hallway at the nurses and doctors and other people, and she leaned in and tapped his hand. He looked back at her and smiled, which made her smile. "You know," she said, pushing her hair behind her ear, "it's creepy to watch people like that. Like you're looking for someone to kill." "Already done it. Killed myself," he said weakly, which made her laugh, half out of nervousness and half out of actual appreciation for his sense of humor; he weakly lifted his hand, but he couldn't lift it all the way up, so she took his wrist in her hand and guided his hand to her face, where she knew he wanted it. He caressed her cheek and she shut her eyes. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "Hey," he said, "Neither do I." She laughed again, her eyes soggy with tears. "But you'll be okay. You're always okay. You always manage to find a way to survive," Chris said, "Which is great, at least one of us is good at surviving." "don't leave me," Karen whispered, and Chris smiled. "If I had a choice, I wouldn't," he whispered back. It wasn't long before Chris was gone, and afterwards, Karen sat in the room by his now empty bed, until she saw Daisy enter the room. Karen stood up and walked across the room, hugging her tightly, which surprised Daisy but she happily hugged her back. Chris had been the one to be mad at her, not Karen, and Karen needed her help to arrange the funeral and lay him to rest. Who better than his own sister? As they hugged that night in the hospital room, Karen couldn't help but be grateful she was there. "I loved him so much," she wept quietly into Daisy's ear, and she smiled, patting her back. "Good, because he loved that you loved him," she said, "Somebody had to." *** "I won't sit here and pretend like I wasn't upset," Karen said, "I won't lie and say I was fine with everything, or how it all shook out, and I certainly won't act like I wasn't unhappy about the man I married liking other men, but I'll be damned if I was gonna be another person in his life who hurt him because of who he was. He deserved better than that. We gave eachother the best thing we could. I gave him acceptance, and he gave me you." Melanie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her father was gay? He'd died from Aids? Karen cleared her throat and played with her bracelet, smiling weakly. "Your sexuality isn't a surprise, Mel," Karen said, "not when put into context, and just like I was with him, I'll never not love you because of it. You're my daughter, regardless of who you love, and he was my husband...regardless of who he loved. Far too many wives are happy to kick their husband to the curb once they're no longer the focal point of their attention, and in many cases it's fair, but this is not one of those cases. I vowed to love him, in sickness and in health, til death did we part, and that's what I did. He couldn't help but be who he was, and I wasn't about to be like his parents, and tell him I wouldn't allow it. If he was here today, god, he'd be so proud of you." "I...I don't...even..." "If you love a girl, then you love that girl with all the love that you can muster," Karen said, reaching across the table and patting her daughters hand, adding, "because it's the strongest feeling in the world. Chris knew that. That's why we stuck things out, because we knew nobody would treat us as well as we treated one another. Marriage is a friendship first and foremost, and that's what we were, best friends. I just want you to be happy, but I also want you to understand where you came from. Who you are. You're Melanie Irres, and you're not a surprise or a disappointment. You're a person. Your own person. So be you, while you have the chance to do so." Melanie sat back in her chair and sighed. Everything she'd ever known about her father was now in a different context, and she wasn't sure what to think, except that - and this made her smile big - she'd never felt closer to him than in this moment. *** Jeremy was sitting in his car, gritting his teeth, his fingers wrapping around the handgun he'd brought with him. He'd followed Chiako to the apartment complex, and he was going to make things right. He opened his car door, stuffed the gun in his jacket pocket and headed across the street, reached the complex and headed through the door. And within the next half hour, two people would be dead in Gus's apartment.
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Royally Screwed follows 24 year old Melanie Irres, an average young woman...who legitimately believes she's a princess. Archives
July 2023
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