Leafing Through

"Dare mo ako," I asked Nox as the two of us busted a move on the dance floor.

"Dare!!" He said, without batting an eyelash.

Earlier that night, I went to the gym only to find out that they are open until 10pm. It was past midnight when I arrived. With no place to go, I asked my DJ friend Cal Soesanto, where to party. 

She said, Bed Manila. 

So I went there, for the second time after they moved to Greenfields, Shaw. At Bed, I met some Twitter friends - by accident - and decided it would be better to hang out with them than to go solo. Para naman maka-bond ako with friends I only get to see online, and to spare myself from getting into trouble again.

Because the last time I went there, I ended up going out with my dance partner days later. It didn't prosper. The "date" was a disaster. Before that, during Bed's closing in Malate, a couple invited me for a threesome - which I declined. Said, "I don't play this game anymore," before walking away from the horny bastards.

That night, I thought I could leave the dance floor without causing any incident.

But I was wrong. I was a tease from the moment I entered the club until the minute before I leave.

Fate was kind however, for I was able to part heartfelt words to people who mattered. I was able to tell Nox how I admire his long distance relationship with Ron. They have been together for almost three years. We talked about their future, their plans of getting married, and my wish - to one day - get to read Nox's Facebook where he's sharing his trip to Oslo.

To visit his partner for the first time. 

I was also able to share some good moments with Babit, the guy who made a cameo on the Indie Film, Camera Obscura. The silent film has sentimental value to me because of the ex, and Babit, having played a role in that movie has somehow touched my past - in a very endearing way. While we didn't get to talk - like Nox and I did, his presence was a relief, especially since one of their friends was someone I had my eyes on. We were getting physical and every time I get reminded that Babit was watching, I come to my senses and hold back the rage I had for his friend.

Finally, Ron was the one who found me while smoking outside Bed. I was having second thoughts of going in, and while weighing my decision, I saw him looking at me. There was instant recognition - and association with his boyfriend. Ron called Nox who was drinking inside, he, in turn, convinced me to get in, and the rest was history. In their presence I realized that I could leave my comfort zone and still feel at home.

And as Ron and Nox danced and kissed in my presence, there's this whisper of hope, that one day, I might find myself dancing and kissing my partner on the same dance floor. Perhaps not there, but in some other place that would forever be special to me. I might have had a different story to tell for this entry, but it was their sweet moments that held me steady during the naughty incidences I had with the rest.

Kasi nga, ang harot ko, and since I was perked up, it was easy to hook up, had I wanted to.



Maybe it was in my way of doing pelvic thrusts in the air, or bending my knees and dropping my hips on the floor, or arching my neck like reaching an orgasm that caught others' imagination. All I know is that I have always been a horny dancer. This thought, I recalled, when Prodeeboy once told me about a guitarist who made sexually charged facial expressions while he performed on stage. Prodee claimed he had a boner just by looking at him. And in the way I stuck out my tongue, or kept sensual eye contact with my bet, I was subconsciously doing a mating call that others found hard to resist.

An inflated assumption.

All I know was I was able to kiss a dance partner, felt someone's six packs as his hand guided mine into his torso, and had hands sliding inside my pants to check my limp package. In times of inebriation, it was easy to let go. And that night, the urge to drop the inhibition brought me close to being reintroduced to the clubber that I was: the Malate Kid who went to gay places every Saturday to occupy a portion of the ledge and show off.

It was fun then, and thrilling, still. But at the back of my head, I made a promise that none of these, will be seen by the Next: The tease that I am; the command I show on the dance floor; and the moves that get me into trouble every time I go to dance clubs lately. These will all be, but a figment of the imagination. A fiction story I put in my blog to write my days of singlehood. The Future will just know me as a clubber who happens to be passionate in Electronic Dance Music.

For him, I'd just be the domesticated type. The artsy geek who drinks every weekend with friends.

And that's what I'd become.

So perhaps, for the last time this year, I kept my word by mounting the ledge once more: To bring back the dancer in me, and to celebrate friendships that are often overlooked. I raised my fists into the spotlight and closed my eyes to let the music take control. In my head, all I hear was the track "Eat, Sleep, Rave Repeat" bouncing off the man-sized speakers and the howls of friends watching from the dance floor.