“I’m not really a writer, moreso a set designer who just calls designer furniture that I saw on Pinterest.” Marco returned his gaze as he warmly grinned at Dejay’s face, lightly pushing it away with his finger as if to hide the warmth of his face. Sincerity aside, he would soon change his tone as he gave another jest as to give an entirely different reaction on his face: “Best advice though, wear a bikini. That’ll get the public to look at you, alongside yours truly.”
A mischievous chuckle came out of Marco’s mouth as he looked at Dejay with such disbelief. You really wanna go history lesson with me? Marco shook his head with amusement as he lightly gave a simple answer for his pleasure in falling into an educational discovery: “Dejay, google Liberace in the 70s and Elton in the 70s. You’ll get the answer.” In clarifying his motive, he further added, “I’ll keep it at that to really make you use a phone in a dinner setting. I do love a bit of rebellion, don’t ya?”
Leaning in closer, cheek to cheek, as he raised his hands to his mouth, disguising coquettishness into gossip, Marco matched Dejay’s more suave flirtations as his tone went a little lower than his usual speaking. “Enchanté, don’t make me swoon; I get wet easily.” Being Marco, he couldn’t help but make an explicit flavor in his choice of words, leading him to a performance of making a mistake. As if a child had broken a vase, he gasped whilst covering his mouth, his tone still playful that slowly lingers to a suggestive invitation, “Oops, can’t say that in public, I’ll be waiting at a certain dock in a nice deck if you continue on with the flattery.” With a wink on his face, he continued on to recall what Dejay said, something about jumping off places, he questioned, " Are you talking with experience? Never really said anything about action scenes, more like I’m suggesting you to tie me and do unspeakable things. Knowing me, I ain’t jumping in an ocean with sequins." Within a second, he quickly looked at Dejay with a sudden realization, “Also, did you just call me old?”
The scent of the sea is what he could recall at that moment. There were buzzing noises from all the ongoing conversations around with little journalists and paparazzi as the dock was getting smaller and smaller. Whatever lingered on Marco’s mind felt hazy at best, knowing one thing: keeping some things on the bottom of the sea, fishing them out when the time sees fit. Still finding his words, he looked at his plate, looking for signs to see which road he’d take. “He—I can’t make out on who he is. Whatever I can or cannot say, what Emiliano did to me is not a discrepancy between what he is and what he is not. I’m sorry, it’s more personal. I have… issues with people not really being clear to me.” There is truth to those words; communication was the bane of his life, and the lack of it from the past stings him harder than any needle he had faced throughout his life. He knew it was unfair to keep some in the dark, as he always was clear on what he thought was and wasn’t okay to him, but reasons muddled in that set him up to at least explain his differences in some decisions. “Now I’m being a hypocrite for being so vague, but that’s just me wanting some space in whatever’s happening right now; I hope you’ll understand. I think we can all agree; we’re oh so shocked Mr. Golden Goose Boy has suddenly appeared after hiding.” Despite his more sincere state, he will still find a way to at least lighten the mood, nodding with Dejay’s decision to talk to him. “Please do knock some sense into him, and make it hard. I wanna see him pack up that color corrector and concealer combo.”
In passing moments, laughter comes back as he listens to Dejay’s suggestions after a date. Marco’s smile slowly faded into deep thought, thinking of ways that could make the night worth it: “Elton’s not really on my playlist, and Beyonce’s ultra expensive. Though I wonder how you’ll be able to convince Beyonce of a super ultra exclusive performance.” Adding to that great plan, he thought of something that felt nice and a good change to his usual outings: “If it was me, maybe it’ll be like a chill bossa nova in the background. Yeah, yeah, a surprise for the club anthem Marco. But I like the vibe of just coffee in a warm interior with music that’ll really sink you into a sofa. Very global village coffeehouse, so 2000s. Think of Colbie Caillat’s Bubbly’ or Norah Jones’ ‘Don’t Know Why’” With no halt in his planning, why not be specific on the men he would dream of meeting. Moreso, the men he’d like to play as the dancer: “For that dancer we can call thirds on; how about men my fancy like Zane Phillips, Gong Yoo, Ne-Yo, Idris Elba, Oscar Isaac? You could even ask Tom Hardy if you really want a challenge. Oh, what I would do to have a taste of him, worth every darn penny. Let me simmer on that thought.”
Accepting his request on what he would do to improve upon his wardrobe, Marco pulled out a slim black case from the inside pockets of his coat, opening to reveal thin-framed glasses to fully look into what Marco would have to work with. Looking up and down, he removed his glasses as he regained his smile. A first draft comes to his mind: “Well, let’s start with the obvious: hire a tailor. Secondly, you’ve got nice biceps and pecs, so it would be a shame to hide it all with some frumpy outfits, though we could do some nice oversized outfits if we really want a chill day. The best investment on that oversized part is the tops, bottoms is a make-or-break type of deal. Do you do legs? Chicken legs will be quite a challenge, especially since you have a nice @ss. Shoes for you would be sneakers, moccasins, oxfords, Chelsea boots, loafers, boat shoes, work boots, and combat boots. Accessories, I will touch on that later.” Continuing on, he took a sip of his champagne as to clear his throat. “Anyways, I would love it if you invested in sleeveless outfits or something that emphasizes your body. A Henley shirt will work wonders for you. Also baseball shirts. Tight with enough looseness to give others a sense of imagination. Jackets are in, Dejay, so invest in some nice jackets. Jackets will be the statement pieces for a man, I’ll tell you that. Jean jackets, leather jackets, bomber jackets, puffers, varsity jackets, Harrington jackets, and all other jackets within the color of the rainbow. I’d suggest neutrals, cool tones, and jewel tones.” He was done with his assessment, until a thought came to mind on what shirt styles he could work with as well. Not just for casual wear but for more sophisticated events, “Can you work with a peasant top? Mandarin collar? Formal or semi-formal doesn’t necessarily mean suits; we can go with a polo or a short-sleeved button-up. We could go trendy as well with a nice knit-crochet button-up, perfect for summer. Tweed will be the number one factor in making you look like a casual professional man. I’d love to see you rock a glitter shirt, but that’d be me wanting more from you.”
A challenge was once again thrown to Marco, looking at Dejay’s playful eyes as he slightly turned his head to take a good look at his current outfit. With a sneer, he confidently responded, “Well, you got the first note: ditch the tie and loosen the button up. It’s semi-formal in a yacht setting, so you still need some sleeves. Oh! How about a nice vest, a subtle damask, to have that elegance in a summer palette? We could remove the jacket and roll up the sleeves to really emphasize those thick muscles. Show off a wristwatch to show your status as the main bodyguard; maybe add some rings for style and extra pain for a punch. A pin could be nice too; maybe a flower if you want some softness. Of course, you’re a bodyguard, and I love when bodyguards have harnesses. Reminds me so much of bondage, turns me on. We could do those harness straps to see the iron, but that could interfere with hiding stuff and probably clash with the outfit. This is a draft, mind you; it still needs a bit of work, but I’m slightly proud to alter some of your choices.”
“I… enjoy the company as well. It’s not really always that I just sit down and reconnect since my life’s usually a meet and go. Loud noises and bustling crowds were my life, you know. Well, until I reached my 30s and I found myself having an acid reflux after drinking my usual 50 shots. Lots of burping. I sadly had to minimize a quaint 30 shots.” Marco lightly smiled, satisfied with his answer. Looking at his plate once more, he felt as if his toes were back on land as he looked at Dejay with a playful smile. “But back to the topic, I’m glad you’re not really sick of me rambling and being quite unhinged. It’s usually the invitation that excites them, then whoosh, off they go! I guess life’s been slow that you get to appreciate people more than usual, makes you wonder if I would ditch the eyeliner when I hit 50.”
“I hope I’m still punk rock by 60.” Marco’s eyes widen with a hope to still be as cool as he is now.
As quick as the night started, Marco’s eyes rolled with the mention of Emiliano’s name: “And so I’ve heard.” The opportunity did leave him wondering, possibly on something new, however, quickly losing the name of his wearer and thinking of Dejay’s words on what could be his big break. Connecting pieces of his puzzle, he slowly looked at Dejay with a sudden realization: “Law Roach got famous famous when he did the red carpet for Zendaya. It could work, just worried that this red carpet could make or break my career. Especially since I’m working with a dude, not a woman with thousands of archival pieces.”
“But it could be a good challenge. I mean, Balmain, Yves Saint Laurent, Alexander McQueen, and Comme des Garçons have menswear. The world could see the beauty of suits.” Slowly nodding to his thoughts, his voice squeaked a bit. A wondrous idea that could change his trajectory in life: “Yeah, I could do the method dressing. Very en vogue for this time. Dejay, you are an angel sent above.” With both hands on Dejay’s shoulders, he felt as if he could kiss him. But slowly, keeping his composure, he slowly let go of his grip as he relayed back his previous comment, ““I’ll never forget you, silly. In fact, we’ll be seeing each other frequently once I’m in Emilio’s sights.” Keeping it light, he added a cheeky comment that could solve both issues ringing in his mind. “My last request, though, is to keep it a surprise for Emiliano. Say to him that the seamstress will be styling him for the premiere. Lightly inform him and his manager; I’ll do the rest of the lifting. I want to see that look on his face.”
“I’ll keep that warning as a light gesture. I love being stuffed with a big meal. Makes a man active, with all the protein stored for that energy.” With his eyes staring with such intensity, Marco’s lid felt heavy as he felt a sudden rigor of energy wanting something more. Under the table, his foot slowly crept in the direction of where Dejay was, stopping as he felt a shoe. Crossing his foot over to the opposite side, he slowly teased him as he rubbed upwards as both men were touching leg to leg. Drapery helped to conceal beneath, as he felt a sudden urge to… restrain himself as he pulled out another item in his pocket, this time a small black book. With their legs still intertwined, still at a light rubbing motion, his face remained stoic as he wrote down what he needed. A regular occurrence to any of his upcoming plans, “I do need the when and where, though; you know me, time’s gold, and I keep my time in a neatly stored schedule.”
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orp: my eyes are actually drying with this brat lime green and coding galore, so many recheckings 
i hate writing posts on my phone but hereee
