approach his girl in such a manner and certainly not in public. Even now Paul could see a thousand hungry eyes watching the trio, judging them, waiting to see Paul’s reaction to this usurper. He had to act now, his reputation demanded it.
He began to move; his eyes focused only on Mark as he crossed the yard. With every step he took he could feel his body tighten. His arms were becoming heavy, his shoulders stiff. With every beat of his feet on the tarmac, he could feel his quad’s surge with blood, as with every step they picked up more and more speed. By the time he had reached Mark he was in a blind rage. No longer even aware of Linda or Suzan, he homed in straight on Mark and lashed out, with both palms hitting his opponent in the chest. Mark was sent flying to the ground. Linda and Suzan started to scream but it was to no effect, Paul heard nothing, his ears rang only with the sound of his own blood, as it coursed through his veins and he saw only Mark.
Paul looked down on his quarry where he lay. “What the **** do you think you are playing at,” he said, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. He was in such a rage that words just kept coming. “Who the **** do you think you are messing with. And you can forget about the soccer team as well you ****. I’m captain of the team and I’m telling you right now that I’ll see both your legs broken before you ever join my team!”
His foe felled and duly dealt with, Paul’s anger ebbed some and he was about to turn to Linda and drag her away, when Mark began to get up, and what’s more he looked as if he was smiling. It would seem that Paul was going to have to really give him a good one, show the smarmy bugger just who it was that he was dealing with.
As mark finally got to his feet Paul took a swing at him but the blond haired boy ducked it easily. Paul took another swing at him, but, dancing on his toes Mark again dodged his attack. Anger and humiliation raged in Paul and without regard he charged straight as Mark but this time the new boy did not retreat but rather stepped forward and rammed his fist straight into Paul’s oncoming face.
It is amazing how a single instant can change the course of a persons life and in the instant when Mark Whitley’s fist met Paul’s face, the course of Paul’s life changed forever. As he sailed through the air his world collapsed. No one had ever hit him before, he had always been the one to do the hitting and the pain and humiliation of the attack bit deep. By the time his back had made contact with grass beneath him, he had given up and not just the fight, he had given up everything. In that one moment he surrendered his position as top dog in the school, his position as captain of the football team and his place on the swim team. Mark had won and as he reigned down further kicks and punches to Paul’s beaten body, Paul just surrendered to them all. If you could not be the best what was the point in fighting back. Paul had decided right there even as blow after blow rocked his body that he would devote himself to this new leader. He would become Marks friend and forever live in his shadow but wow, what a shadow.
As the days past and Paul’s body recovered, he watched as Mark took on the role of leader of the pack. Within two days of the fight, he had taken the football captaincy and within the week was on the swim team too. The final handing over of power had came one night when Paul climbed the balustrade to Linda’s bedroom window. He had been calling to end their relationship. Like Paul before, Linda was a leader. She was the most beautiful and popular girl in school and Paul knew he would no longer be able to hold on to her, so he had decided to free her of her obligation to him. But as he reached the window and peered through the thin net curtain, he could see the job had already been done. He could see her naked body on all fours, her full breasts swinging backwards and forwards, as Mark penetrated her from behind. He stared, mesmerised by the rhythm of their bodies; each of their movements, perfectly balanced by another, both of them in absolute symmetry. They were like machines, there perfectly matched gears, oiled, and pumping to a beat he had only ever dreamed of.
Turning away from the window he sat for a moment upon the slate roof tiles in silence. He smiled. Things were as they should be. Rising to his feet he moved on. He would seek out Susan, as a lower raking female she would be only to glad of the attention of a second hand hero.
For a few moments Paul resurfaced again. One of the two men was trying to put something over his face; they were trying to cover his mouth with something. Paul tried to struggle but it was useless, he was strapped down and even if he had been free, he doubted he would have had the strength to fight them off.
Slipping beneath the surface of his mind once more, Paul returned to his past. He was in collage; Mark was there. Paul had followed him to New York and had taken up a position in a music degree, while Mark had studied law. Everyone loved Mark, he was top of his class. The Lecturers loved him, the students loved him, even the members of the board loved him. It was as it should be. And everywhere that Mark went, Paul followed, insuring that his better was always one step ahead of the game. In order to help Mark, Paul had studied law too, not in class like Mark but at home, in the flat the two young men shared. He would go over Marks work with a fine tooth-comb before it had to be handed in, making sure Mark had not missed anything; he so frequently would. But it was never Marks fault; he was as perfect as could be. No it was the collage’s fault; they all expected so much from him. The young women on campus needed to be serviced, the dean and others, would expect him to appear at parties and address the assembly with witty speeches and repartee. The soccer them expected him lively and alert and ready to score goals. How could he ever be expected to cope! So Paul managed everything, and if he was good, Mark would occasionally through him a woman or two, someone drunk perhaps or out of it on drugs, someone who probably wouldn’t remember too much the following morning. And Paul had been good, often.
When he wasn’t looking after Mark, Paul had been busy with his own degree. He did very well but always made sure never to do better than Mark; it would have not been right to over shadow his friend like that.
Later, after collage, Paul had used money his parents had given him, to help set Paul up in business. It had been difficult at first, it was important that Mark looked well so there hadn’t always been food for Paul but that was okay. Later, when the business finally did take off, arranging meetings, while Mark had been entertaining clients hadn’t always left time for Paul to make it to rehearsals for his own carrier but again that was okay, his time would come and when it did Mark would be there for him.
And of course, when the time had finally come, Mark had been there. Paul had not asked if he would help, there’d been no need – a friend in need, and all that – besides, he had not wanted to bother him with the details. Mark could get very upset at some of Paul’s ideas.
Paul had waited five more years, until he had become a rising name before finally deciding it was time, not just to make himself a famous piano player, but to become an infamous one.
He began to move; his eyes focused only on Mark as he crossed the yard. With every step he took he could feel his body tighten. His arms were becoming heavy, his shoulders stiff. With every beat of his feet on the tarmac, he could feel his quad’s surge with blood, as with every step they picked up more and more speed. By the time he had reached Mark he was in a blind rage. No longer even aware of Linda or Suzan, he homed in straight on Mark and lashed out, with both palms hitting his opponent in the chest. Mark was sent flying to the ground. Linda and Suzan started to scream but it was to no effect, Paul heard nothing, his ears rang only with the sound of his own blood, as it coursed through his veins and he saw only Mark.
Paul looked down on his quarry where he lay. “What the **** do you think you are playing at,” he said, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. He was in such a rage that words just kept coming. “Who the **** do you think you are messing with. And you can forget about the soccer team as well you ****. I’m captain of the team and I’m telling you right now that I’ll see both your legs broken before you ever join my team!”
His foe felled and duly dealt with, Paul’s anger ebbed some and he was about to turn to Linda and drag her away, when Mark began to get up, and what’s more he looked as if he was smiling. It would seem that Paul was going to have to really give him a good one, show the smarmy bugger just who it was that he was dealing with.
As mark finally got to his feet Paul took a swing at him but the blond haired boy ducked it easily. Paul took another swing at him, but, dancing on his toes Mark again dodged his attack. Anger and humiliation raged in Paul and without regard he charged straight as Mark but this time the new boy did not retreat but rather stepped forward and rammed his fist straight into Paul’s oncoming face.
It is amazing how a single instant can change the course of a persons life and in the instant when Mark Whitley’s fist met Paul’s face, the course of Paul’s life changed forever. As he sailed through the air his world collapsed. No one had ever hit him before, he had always been the one to do the hitting and the pain and humiliation of the attack bit deep. By the time his back had made contact with grass beneath him, he had given up and not just the fight, he had given up everything. In that one moment he surrendered his position as top dog in the school, his position as captain of the football team and his place on the swim team. Mark had won and as he reigned down further kicks and punches to Paul’s beaten body, Paul just surrendered to them all. If you could not be the best what was the point in fighting back. Paul had decided right there even as blow after blow rocked his body that he would devote himself to this new leader. He would become Marks friend and forever live in his shadow but wow, what a shadow.
As the days past and Paul’s body recovered, he watched as Mark took on the role of leader of the pack. Within two days of the fight, he had taken the football captaincy and within the week was on the swim team too. The final handing over of power had came one night when Paul climbed the balustrade to Linda’s bedroom window. He had been calling to end their relationship. Like Paul before, Linda was a leader. She was the most beautiful and popular girl in school and Paul knew he would no longer be able to hold on to her, so he had decided to free her of her obligation to him. But as he reached the window and peered through the thin net curtain, he could see the job had already been done. He could see her naked body on all fours, her full breasts swinging backwards and forwards, as Mark penetrated her from behind. He stared, mesmerised by the rhythm of their bodies; each of their movements, perfectly balanced by another, both of them in absolute symmetry. They were like machines, there perfectly matched gears, oiled, and pumping to a beat he had only ever dreamed of.
Turning away from the window he sat for a moment upon the slate roof tiles in silence. He smiled. Things were as they should be. Rising to his feet he moved on. He would seek out Susan, as a lower raking female she would be only to glad of the attention of a second hand hero.
For a few moments Paul resurfaced again. One of the two men was trying to put something over his face; they were trying to cover his mouth with something. Paul tried to struggle but it was useless, he was strapped down and even if he had been free, he doubted he would have had the strength to fight them off.
Slipping beneath the surface of his mind once more, Paul returned to his past. He was in collage; Mark was there. Paul had followed him to New York and had taken up a position in a music degree, while Mark had studied law. Everyone loved Mark, he was top of his class. The Lecturers loved him, the students loved him, even the members of the board loved him. It was as it should be. And everywhere that Mark went, Paul followed, insuring that his better was always one step ahead of the game. In order to help Mark, Paul had studied law too, not in class like Mark but at home, in the flat the two young men shared. He would go over Marks work with a fine tooth-comb before it had to be handed in, making sure Mark had not missed anything; he so frequently would. But it was never Marks fault; he was as perfect as could be. No it was the collage’s fault; they all expected so much from him. The young women on campus needed to be serviced, the dean and others, would expect him to appear at parties and address the assembly with witty speeches and repartee. The soccer them expected him lively and alert and ready to score goals. How could he ever be expected to cope! So Paul managed everything, and if he was good, Mark would occasionally through him a woman or two, someone drunk perhaps or out of it on drugs, someone who probably wouldn’t remember too much the following morning. And Paul had been good, often.
When he wasn’t looking after Mark, Paul had been busy with his own degree. He did very well but always made sure never to do better than Mark; it would have not been right to over shadow his friend like that.
Later, after collage, Paul had used money his parents had given him, to help set Paul up in business. It had been difficult at first, it was important that Mark looked well so there hadn’t always been food for Paul but that was okay. Later, when the business finally did take off, arranging meetings, while Mark had been entertaining clients hadn’t always left time for Paul to make it to rehearsals for his own carrier but again that was okay, his time would come and when it did Mark would be there for him.
And of course, when the time had finally come, Mark had been there. Paul had not asked if he would help, there’d been no need – a friend in need, and all that – besides, he had not wanted to bother him with the details. Mark could get very upset at some of Paul’s ideas.
Paul had waited five more years, until he had become a rising name before finally deciding it was time, not just to make himself a famous piano player, but to become an infamous one.