Love and desire. Risk a friendship perhaps by baring your soul. Take a chance on love.

If you can't handle bouncing viewpoints and my possibly idiosyncratic use of English that gets a pinch rough now and then, well might be best if you read something else. Just a thought. An Abba song? Oh get out. Love story? You tell me.

This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright ~ kls 2011.

Take a Chance

By Kristina.L.S.

Oh yeah, I loved her no question. She was the coolest, smartest, quirkiest, sexiest bitch I'd ever met, how could I not. Okay, let me paint a picture here. See, I'm the on the cusp of successful Muso type that will never be anything else. Doesn't matter that I can play and sing and arrange and produce to a level above most that matter in the 'industry', I don't meet the image requirements.

See I'm a skinny little girly boy in appearance. So while I may be a bit on the gentle side of your regular blokey bloke I am still just that... a guy. A bit androgynous by appearance if not exactly inclination, I am no he man macho wanker either. I try to be nice and polite, which it must be said confuses people. And I'm not sixteen.

It's curious that even those that espouse diversity and inclusion feel inclined to pigeonhole without a thought. Yes I get the benefit of the doubt as to being a 'regular' guy, but the fact is that most view me with a pinch of suspicion or at least curiosity.

Yeah okay I don't dress strictly regular guy, a bit floaty and colourful if you must know. But not too flamboyant, read Gay. I just don't really get the whole sexual stereotypical dynamic thing. I mean for fucks sake people are not that rigid anywhere anytime no matter what some may wish to believe, or tell you they do.

Okay sorry, got a bit sidetracked there. Yes I love Elizabeth, hah, she hates being called that. She is the most brilliant wonderful amazing woman I have ever known. Yet I am 'a friend' and will never be more so to preserve some degree of emotional balance and involvement that's where we are. I think she likes girls really but she goes both ways and she has taste and style in people as much as anything else. To be honest a skinny little five foot eight femmy boy of questionable sexuality doesn't really shake her tree. But she likes my company now and then. So hey, take what you can get huh. I mean what would you do? Hang with someone you love and admire now and then or bow to the well meaning girls that want to make you over into a regular man to take home to mother or the gay cruisers that would rip you up and drop you in the neighbouring spa . Well some were worse than a Jewish mother, but that was worse in it's own way. Shit, are you confused? Sometimes I am.

So anyway. Liz calls me up as she does now and then. I'm an itinerant musician with irregular regular gigs and a spotty income, but I do okay. She's a high roller Event manager type. Makes a shitload dealing with prissy idiots with too much money and assorted would be high flyers with delusions of societal importance. The party of the decade or THE Gig in the winery with Elton or Billy or Barbara. Hell, I'll admit I would grovel a bit for a few tickets to some of the do's she puts on.

I might not be some gay boy that thinks Fanny Girl is the highpoint of western civilisation, but she is still one hell of a singer. Funny Girl? Oh, sorry.

Anyway. There I was with a couple of weeks free and back in Sydney from home base which was Melbourne these days, at a bit of a loose end when Lizzie calls up and says hey, want to come over for dinner Friday and hang about for a bit.

She sounded a bit... umm, unsure or hesitant or I dunno, just off somehow. That was very un Liz like. I mean this is the quintessential uber chickie. Well in the modern go getter woman in control type sense anyway. You know, Armani ladies suit, Jimmy Choos and rich lips. No shrinking violet this one. Partly why I love her, though I know she doesn't notice that. She's five ten and makes confident men and most women bow before they realise they are doing so. It's not a superiority thing, it's just I dunno, aura or something. She just is, a force of nature playing the game and making it work in this new century go girl world. Classy and subtly sexy in a mildly conservative way. She doesn't do flash or frills or man shirt short skirt type stuff, she was just damn smart and good at what she did.

She could buy and sell me fifty times though that didn't mean shit when we got together. We were friends pure and simple, long established and easy. She three years up to my thirty. We are easy together, no bullshit, talk and laugh and drink and swear and eat and drink. Priorities, ya know.

So here I am ringing the bell and for some odd reason I feel nervous. Why? Fucked if I know. I mean we know each other inside and out and have seen the best and worst the night before, during and the morning after. So what's up then?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh come on girl. Have you totally lost your fucking mind. These last few weeks you've been a total bloody screw up. Seriously, it is not a good idea to play the emotional hormonal teenager when you're a successful early thirties business woman. Christ you have changed outfits what.... eight times. Fancy dresses to business style to this, what... renovation grunge? Yoga pants and long T over designer knickers. Check the bloody mirror, maybe you should put an artful smudge on the cheekbone and forehead. Shit you have bloody lost it girl.

You have known this guy for what... ten years? That multi tent, multi style city of Sydney Oz day thing. New bloody Millennium crap Olympics in the wind later in the year and you'd been doing the wander around and check up type thing. For some strange bloody reason this skinny little almost gay boy singing and strumming and having fun and making everyone nearby almost by default have fun caught her attention.

She waited till he finished his set and they got talking. No phoney bullshit and right then as a relative newb in this game she needed no phoney bullshit and they became friends. An odd match that wasn't a match because she mostly liked girls and if she fancied a guy he probably wasn't what she had in mind but...

He became her best friend. Was her best friend, no doubt at all. Always there, smart and just that touch of cynicism to make her smile. Oh crap are you insane? Did you catch some bloody brain eating virus or something?

No one could make you smile and look at things like he could. Just his bloody name, Caradoc, bloody Welsh for beloved or something. Call me Car. His Mum used to call him Cara he said with a silly grin. Shit, it was a year before you dragged that out one slightly drunken night.

Yeah okay so he got the nickname Lizard out of you when you went through that grungie period in Uni. Not really a fair swap, I mean Caradoc? Seriously, some parents need smacking about the head a bit. But then....

Then you get this bloody invite, one of several hundred that lob during a given year. Just another bloody charity trying to be cute. But this one... damn this one struck a long lost if ever acknowledged at all, buried and hidden...what? What is the word for it? Quirk maybe? Peccadillo? Oddity? Kink? Shit.

Fuck girl, you're pissed.

Christ why so bloody nervous, you've known this guy for years, but... Oh for fucks sake, just answer the bloody door already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door swings open and there she is, gorgeous as ever and even dressed down my heart skips a beat. Treacherous bloody lump of muscle. Yet she looks... what, disappointed, hurt? Oh hell, is she in trouble of some sort? Damn, come on Lizzie girl, talk to me.

What's with the fake smile then? Stranger at a party come in small talk, what the hell? She's trying to appear normal yet something is obviously off, damn, she noticed my expression change and stops cold looking almost afraid. I'm starting to feel that way myself, something is seriously wrong here.

A raised right hand forefinger gently pressed to my lips as I start to speak stops me and with a sad expression and a gesture. I drop the shoulder bag which is suddenly awfully bloody heavy and sit as she heads into the kitchen and returns with two glasses of red. I get mine and she curls on the other lounge opposite, her right leg tucked under, a metre or so away but seemingly a whole lot more. I try to sit and sip calmly but my stomach is rolling, like waiting for the firing squad or something. Ulcers are supposed to be a bloody virus right, not nervous tension? I bloody hope so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

" Hey Car, yeah I'm a little messed up as you can tell. Sorry to do that to you", a shrug and pause as she shifts a bit to get comfortable or maybe gather her thoughts...nerve?

"Ummm, we've been friends a while. A long while and know each other pretty well I think. But... well something happened a few weeks back, totally out of the blue and in no way expected. " She shifted a little and looked away, then very deliberately looked back, straight at me, her eyes flicking left to right as she tried to read me or something. What's to read? She knows pretty much all there is.

"Okay this is tough and I know I'm making you damn uncomfortable and I apologise. Just... I'm finding it tough to look at this one as being anything but a loser all round. That makes me very sad and I know I am making no bloody sense at all. Shit Liz, just spill." She paused again and took a gulp of wine followed by a very deep long sigh.

"You know in my job I get all these invites, sometimes freebies for publicity and such, sometime insider industry quid pro quo things and often charity do's trying to get bods on seats for whatever cause. So... a few weeks back I get this invite. Just another charity thing that I glanced at and tossed in the bin. But it sat there in the back of my head, the theme I mean. Kept rolling about and whispering at me. Drove me bloody mad, so I pulled it out of the bin and sat it on my desk and looked at it. I even shouted at the bloody thing...WHAT?? Fortunately maybe it didn't answer, but that may have been a blessing. Confirmed I'd gone mad. " She jumped up and took another gulp, paced a bit before flopping down again.

"Confused? Shit, I am and I sorta know what's going on. At least I've had a bit of time to roll this idea about. Strangely I don't find it that odd anymore. In fact I really hope it doesn't cause us to fall apart. I wish... " another deep sigh and this time I have to speak.

"Come on Liz, like you said, we know each other pretty well and I think trust each other if not completely, a lot. I seriously doubt anything you say would cause me to walk out that door and not come back. So please..." I waved a hand about in a whatever it is let it flow type gesture.

"Right, well we'll see what you think in a few minutes huh." She sighed again and looked down at the floor.

"Fuck Liz, if you don't tell me I'll probably have a bloody heart attack or something, you're scaring the shit outa me. So please...."

She raised her face and there were actual tears. She was crying and I felt the world tilt and a pain I couldn't explain settle in my gut.

"Oh Car, you beautiful boy. I know you love me, you have for a long time and you think I don't see it. Believe me I worried about that for quite a while. Do I just stop taking your calls or ringing you? What's the best thing, you know. But I figured as long as we both had this idea it was just friends and let each other do their own thing it was cool and no harm. I watched you go through a few brief relationships and wondered what would happen if you married one of them, fell in love all that. Selfish fuckin' bitch huh."

"Shit Lizzie." My turn to take a big gulp of wine. Finished the glass and jumped up stopping for a second to hold a hand out for hers which she passed across. Into the kitchen to see one empty and another half gone bottle. Okay Liz so you're working the booze a bit here. Courage or what?

I wandered back out my thoughts churning. Handed her glass and sat again taking a sip to give me another second or two. Pasted a crooked grin in place which made her tear up again. Crap.

"Yeah, fair cop love. I've been in love with you for a few years. Sorta crept up on me. One of those things you can't really do anything about except maybe how you handle it. I honestly thought you didn't know. Stupid of me I guess. Anyway, I... ah, well I wrestled with that a bit too, much as you did maybe if not from the same position." Okay a moments silence to gather thoughts, come on brain...work.

"So umm, yes I love you." A shrug and a blush before a glance across to see her smiling crookedly, a tear sitting on her right cheek and biting her bottom lip. A surprisingly vulnerable and very girly gesture. That alone told me we had a problem here. I just didn't have a clue exactly what it was. Shit I started to tear up myself.

"Car please. It's okay I don't care. Oh fuck, yes I do care, but.... I dunno, you watched me go through that relationship with Dave a few years back. He's gone you're still here. Then Tracy and Vanessa. But it never quite clicked and who did I always call to come have a drink and share a mope with over a slice of pizza. You. Of course I love you, just..... " She took a long sip and centred herself. Shit here we go.

" Okay, this invitation. See it was a Gay pride rights thing. Promoting tolerance and understanding all that stuff. Worthy I guess but even if I sorta go for girls I don't really see myself as gay. I don't fit that world if you see what I mean. More a wide perception thing than reality I guess, but..." She shrugged again and took another sip.

"So, the thing is.... Ah, see the idea for this do was the usual tables in groups or by company or whatever, pairs. But... the pairs were to be girls and girls and guys and guys. Just a symbolic thing for the most part but no doubt a few rumours would start or be confirmed on the night. Anyway...., oh fuck Car. "

"Lizzie, Lizzie, please just tell me what the hell is going on here. What has you so messed up about a Gay pride dinner thing?"

"See, that's just it. Like I said I was going to toss it. I didn't really want to go there, besides I had no idea who I'd invite. But then I had this odd thought. What about my best friend." She paused there and looked at me, quietly appraising and.... nervous?

"What...me? How does that work. Okay, I know I'm a little girly looking but I am a guy. " My heart started to beat a bit quickly and my mouth went dry.

"Oh Car that's just it. At first I was just playing with a bit of subversion. I knew you would not be all that keen but I had this image of you all glammed up and looking simply wonderful. It blew my mind a little. " She winced a little at the expression she could see float across my face.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you angry before. It's just not you. But there you are, storm clouds boiling about and that flicker of lightning with a hint of thunder in the background in the corner of your eyes." She sighed again but didn't look away. I tried to calm down a bit.

"Okay so that's it huh. You think I'm some dress up Barbie doll to take out and have some fun with. You know I never thought you pictured me as some sissy play thing. I don't really care what people get up to within reason but I always thought you respected me at least. " I got up and paced a little before slumping back down again.

"Damn Liz, maybe I was wrong, maybe you can drive me out the door. Ten fucking years. Christ. I wish you'd said something a long time ago."

She was crying again but didn't move and didn't look away. Straightened a bit.

"Please. You know me better than that I hope. I would never abuse you like that. You are my best friend and until a couple of weeks ago I never even thought of you like that, dressed I mean. I... okay you sometimes dress a little... wavy, what's that old Rock band...yeah, Marc Bolan minus the makeup. Whatever they're called. But that's just you a muso image thing mostly. Plus I think you sorta like messing with people a little and you do look pretty enough. Shit" She paused again and took another sip, looking to see my reaction. I was still upset, but listening, she nodded slightly.

"See the thing is that idea, that image would not go away. It sat in my head and every time I turned around or looked at someone even remotely like you in appearance I saw you, looking beautiful and feminine and it really started to mess with my Head. I almost blew a contract the other week because I could not concentrate. Phil finally told me to take a couple of weeks and relax. That sat me back a little. " she paused again, dead still and looking at me intently, trying to judge, to see what, the girl within or something, fuck.

She smiled a wide slightly fixed smile and laughed.

"Fucked up or what?" snorted and took a sip.

"Shit Liz." I smiled a bit crookedly and laughed just a little.

"Yep, I am officially bloody mad. I have had you in my head for three weeks now and I cannot for the life of me whatever I try get you out. Not sure I want to either... But.... umm, the thing is that I know you are not really a girly girl type at all. You may not be a caveman or anything close to it, but a.... I dunno, a nice cute, pretty girl that I am suddenly deeply and hopelessly in love with. Like I said, fucked up yeah."

She was crying again and shaking her head slowly side to side, I had no idea what to do or say. My stomach was churning like a cement mixer on overdrive and my heart was thumping as though with a caffeine overdose. Holy shit, she loved me...as a cute girl. Oh.... holeee fuck. If I prayed what the hell would I pray for? Surprised, stunned, bemused, scared, confused...... curious?

I smiled softly and tried to stay calm, now who's fucking mad? Then love is insanity sorta by definition right. Oh shit, if you're going to say it.....

"Ummm, Liz, you love me... but as a pretty girl? Really. I know your idea of pretty, I can't play guitar with those fucking nails." I tried to look calm but I thought just maybe I'd drop dead in another minute or so.

Her head snapped up and she looked at me her eyes wide and a smile creeping up her face till it threatened to break something. Her eyes sparkled with mirth... and.. love? Oh hell. Yes.

" Oh Cara, are you in for a ride."

Any thoughts, comments, questions or polite criticisms welcome.