Billy

Billy moved to Astoria, Queens  in 1998, a week after George Michael was arrested for soliciting a police officer in a public bathroom in Los Angeles. The event pretty much ended  the singer's career as a pop star but did signal his new role as world-wide professional homosexual and major league fuck-up. Like George, Billy began his life as a professional homosexual at the same time, with less disastrous results. He attributed this to one simple fact: his coming out began in a modest one-bedroom apartment across the street from the Top Tomato grocery store on Ditmars Boulevard and not at a pubic urinal while he showed an undercover cop his schlong.

The apartment was in a 5 floor walk-up, above a Japanese restaurant and a video store. It was his first apartment without roommates and the first time he truly lived on his own. He painted each room a different color of the primary color wheel. His living room was a pale yellow, because he'd seen it on HGTV, the kitchen a fiery red, and the bedroom was painted periwinkle. Everything in the room was painted periwinkle, too -- the window sills, ceilings, the radiators. He played cool blues and Sigur Ros, the eclectic Icelandic band that moaned a lot but rarely sang a lyric, although one time he swore they sang "Yves St. Laurent" over and over until the song faded into oblivion (they didn't). The small lamps on his Ikea bed tables each had blue party lights, which cast deep blue hues in every direction. Lying in the bed, and depending on his mood, he either felt like he was submerged in water or rocketing skyward into the twilight of the day.

"It's my sexy bang room," He told anyone who would listen, although it was almost a year before he had sex with a person other than himself in this underwater fantasy.

When the news broke about George Michael's public shaming Billy immediately got a call from Joseph an old friend from high school who lived in a new high rise in Long Island City and with whom he'd  been in-and-out of touch with for several years. Joseph, a soft-spoken adorable cub of a boy, had come out bravely and publicly the year they turned 20.  He adored George Michael since he was a chubby 7th grader at Emerson Middle School in Yonkers, NY and could often be heard defending George on the merits of his voice and his songwriting, when really what attracted him was his bubble-ass and strong chin.  Joseph and Billy both knew that the other was gay as far back as they could remember. Joseph waited patiently for years for Billy's self-realization. Waiting turned into patient exhaustion for him and he used the George Michael incident as a springboard to finally find out about his former best friend.

"George Michael is gay," He blurted out moments after the news had been delivered on CNN.
"I know, who doesn't know that?" Billy offered in return. "He wore Richard Simmons short-shorts and neon gloves in that video."
"It's confirmed, he was waving his dick at a cop in a bathroom."
"Eww. Why?"
"I don't know, a bathroom is the last place I'm horny.
There was a pause.
"So are you?"
"Horny?"
"No, are you gay?"
"Yes."

And that was the answer that reunited them. Billy was finally ready.

That was a long time ago. Joseph, who now goes by Jose, although he's not Hispanic, and Billy are, at best, estranged. Daily phone calls dwindled to weekly chats, and finally to once a month email check -ins. Now, they were lucky to exchange quick "how are you?" texts. The last three Billy had sent had gone unanswered and he was beginning to worry. Although they never lived more than a few train stops away from one another, lately, it seemed liked they were a world apart.

Billy lived longest at the place he was at now -- 36-08 and 40th Street, in Sunnyside, a surprisingly gorgeous community right off the 7 train that was relatively undiscovered territory until New York Magazine listed it as an up-and-coming neighborhood several years ago. Since that time rents have increased, as had the preponderance of hipsters and young professionals all priced out of their respective Manhattan and Brooklyn neighborhoods. Thank god I'm in a rent stabilized pre-war building, Billy often thought. His large studio was twice the size of a Manhattan one-bedroom. Because Billy didn't have kids or a significant other right now this was what he bragged about the most.

It's wasn't a lot, but sometimes, in this city, it was enough.