Madeup

Madeup

a piece of prompted fiction by The Overlord Bear

prompted by The Overlord Bear for prompted writing activities with Pat/MeelkyWay

Prompt: “A man finds another man furiously removing his makeup.”

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When a man in a dress click-clacked with his heels into the men’s restroom, heads turned to look at him, but he was ignored just as quick.

As for how he was noticeably a man, I, at least, had some hunches when I looked at the cut of his cheeks and the flatness of his chest. Not to say that he couldn’t be mistaken for a woman, though, as he had a toned yet petite body and curled yet shining hair.

Someone in the room would’ve made a comment at the effeminate man, but the glare he sent while he showed the streaked makeup on his face caused us to be silent with our glances at him.

Now that reinforced my belief in him being a man.

Still, it wasn’t everyday when one managed to find a man like that, so I stole some glances at him while I pretended to continue what I was doing in front of the restroom mirror in the first place.

Though considering the narrowed looks he was also shooting back at me with the slow turns of his head, maybe I should’ve just continued checking myself out and sweeping up my face and hair with clicks of my tongues and flashes of my teeth.

Now, I was just giving him an awkward teeth flash along with my popped up eyes.

After some of that awkward silence, though, the man sighed, shook his head, and went on to continue his splashing with the sink and the running water to his face.

He rubbed his small hands on his babyface, launching droplets to his curled hair as he gurgled and growled away.

Once he looked at himself at the mirror again, leaving the faucet still running, his face still looked like the ones with the smooth and unblemished skin all those whitening substance commercial models showed off everyday.

“I’m not interested, if you’re wondering.”

I blinked and went “Huh?” at that statement from the man before me.

Still, that moment of confusion was a flash, and I ended up letting out a short, low laugh of embarrassment.

“I don’t think I’m gay, though,” I told him in reply. “Still, I would admit that you’re a pretty man.”

“Yeah, thanks…” he said, though his dropping and slowing tone as he turned to look at himself in the mirror again showed signs of a troubled heart.

Again, we shared an awkward silence, and I kept staring at him, all while he stared at himself.

“I don’t look like it, but I’m a straight guy.”

I blinked again, and I noticed how quiet and empty the restroom was.

Surely, more men would enter this mall restroom soon, but the seriousness in the other guy’s voice made me feel like it was just the two of us in the room right now.

“Ah…well, that’s surprising…I guess?”

I was surprised, but I was just uncertain about what else to say to that.

I mean, looking at how dressed up he was and how he carried himself, I still felt like doing something like letting out a sigh of relief would be an offensive action.

And indeed, offending people was the last thing I wanted to do. Even if we disagree on things, I’d rather we be polite about it.

Though then again, I probably failed to follow that principle of mine there.

Another ordinary day, alright.

“What would you do if you found out that you got a lot of girls pregnant?”

I blinked like a light with a flickering problem at that.

“…what?” was what I managed to get out there.

The answer I received was another sigh.

Then, he glared at himself through the mirror, shoulders hunched as he had his hands on the ceramic-covered block of the lavatories.

And then all the other men facing the urinals and the mirrors and the cubicle doors became more noticeable. I could feel their heads turning as their lines of sight took us in, too.

“Uhh…” I tried to start to clear the awkwardness away, “Wanna go get some frappes together?”

He gave me a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, I mean, as friends,” I added with another awkward teeth flash and a shot of popped-up eyes.

And then he let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, friends…I really need some more guy friends in my life right now,” he then said, and then he faced the mirror once more, sweeping up his hair, face, and dress as he straightened up his posture.

“So should I wait for you outside?” I asked.

“Sure,” he answered. “Lead the way, as long as it won’t be to that one coffee shop near the mall exit next to these restrooms.”

“A-Alright, then,” I answered with a stutter as I processed that unusual yet understandable explanation.

I then went to walk out, but then he called:

“Hold on, what’s your name?”

Again, another ordinary day.

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Author’s Note: Yo, I started up some writing activities with a new friend of mine! And hey, it’s nice to be back and updating this collection again!

Also, I guess pretty men have been occupying a considerable space in my mind lately…well, that, and a professor’s fiction plus his notes on writing fiction.

Anyway, looking forward to honest constructive feedback! And do check out Pat’s take on this prompt as well, which has the title of “Red Herring!”