Faith & Thrust

Rose petals on a turquoise bedding exuding a temporary night of pleasure, perfect bedroom lighting kissing a face of freckles and one with moisturized clear skin, a bottle of chardonnay accompanied by two large boxes of Debonnairs pizza and a snack of Sweet Chilli Doritos, orgasms which made the stars disconnect and the moon frown, Masego and Quinton awake to a regretful morning.

A celebration for a union of two companions who’ve just got engaged after a year-long relationship last Friday night was a moment of embrace, jealousy, lust and betrayal. Masego, 28, is a visual artist born in Cape Town, Western Cape. Unfolding the pieces of his heart that were locked in trepidation, Masego, who never had the courage to speak up about the traumatic experience of losing his parents due to fire in their townhouse, finally considers therapy. But after three sessions he felt they were enough to bring him closer to himself without wanting to kill himself. His portraits, photographs and paintings were his forms of self-reflection, healing, expression and evolution; it was the only therapy that he felt was refreshing, and the need to reboot for the sake of his state of being and his little brother who is only beginning varsity the following week. Masego has entrusted so much in himself and the God who saved him from death and sometimes self-harm; after giving his soul in the hands of God last year he lived a prosperous and healthy life. He owns a glasshouse apartment which he has also turned into his art workspace, has a red 2018 Polo Vivo GT, he is an operation manager of an asylum his organization built for the mentally ill around the province, and is also devoted to his boyfriend of one year, Cliff. 

A duststorm of Autumn ushered the heart pulsations of Masego when he visited Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa where he saw his childhood flash before his eyes through the lenses of a history photographer by the name William Kentridge, who is celebrated internationally for his prints, animated films, drawings and theatre productions, continues to live and work in Johannesburg. “I am not about to cry in the presence of all these people that look so much like each educated character from films I never imagined would exist in real life,” Masego tells himself. A shadow of a skinny man creeps in from his back and never did he hesitate to look back and view this reflection that blew his mind straight back to the darkness that let him connect with the dream that he is in contact with now. The man spoke so casually, “A perfect image of uncensored feelings, a skin of an ocean that saved the remnants of carbon footprints, hands that map themselves like flowers growing on a concrete floor, probably a mind of gentle empathy too.” Subtle giddiness and a feeling of tremble catches up to Masego as words of interest rolled off his tongue, “Those are my exact thoughts of this portrait. I feel as though salvation is the ultimate manifestation, that the artist was deliberately creating this for me, that I am not so lonely.” Trying so hard not to mock him of his intelligence and knowledge of art, Cliff, the shadow man, decided to retract his giggles and instead say this with a smile, “I was talking about you.” The sound of the clock above the portrait alarms the thoughts that are racing in Masego’s mind to come back to earth.

“How can you even comprehend such a thing of a simple old fashioned guy like myself? Are you some kind of gypsy?”

“Of all the people I have seen here today, you are not one to miss.”

“You sure seem to know what you want, and it is definitely not art.”

“Well, I am really not artsy or creative. I do enjoy people-watching, films, music, and martial arts though. I came here with a friend of mine, Quinton, who is a visual art enthusiast. He always drags me to these museums and galleries even when I do not feel like it sometimes. And I do apologize for my rude approach, I go by the name Cliff.” His crisp velvety voice brought Masego’s attention to a 100 real quick, his eyes became small as he was easily captivated by his honesty, firm body structure and a smile that would be captured and featured in the next exhibition as one of the highest–ranking portraits. The way his caramel skin glistened under the light bulb melted away the little innocence that Masego carried. That was Masego’s fetish, caramel skinned men; only a perfect ideal significant other to match his coffee skin (he always thought to himself).

Quarter to eight, forty minutes later into the conversation Quinton swoops in and gradually adds a comment: “There you are, you bitch. I’ve been searching all over for you, outchea leaving me to have a solo experience which was not the deal. But now I see the reason (as he glares deeply into Masego’s eyes and scans his body), you are with this fine, fine man.” 

“Uhm…I am guessing you are Quinton? Cliff told me that he has accompanied you here. My name is Masego, pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, it sure is a pleasure to meet YOU.”

Masego was slightly uncomfortable, and disappointed that Cliff did not say something to shut the rather loud and overly exposed Quinton, so he wanted just as much as to dismiss himself from the equation and have a word with the owner of Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa before he leaves for home.

“If you guys would kindly excuse me, I would like to go and speak to the man over there. It was once again a pleasure to meet the both of you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Releasing a personal contact card from his jacket pocket, Cliff takes Masego by the hand and places the card on his hand with his phone contacts in it just as Masego was walking away and says, “Please call or text me. I will be waiting.” Masego is pleased to know that Cliff had a genuine mutual interest in him as he was with him.

“Thank you,” says Masego.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” says Quinton.

“What is your problem, Quinton?” asks Cliff.

Now without witnessing the jealousy and little anger raging from the faint sighs and fake smiles that arose from Quinton’s face, Cliff suggests that they leave and Quinton apologizes for his theatrics.

It’s just after 10pm, and the Skyy Vodka and hubbly session Cliff and Quinton decided to have was incomplete without a text or call from Masego. A regular voice in Cliff’s head reprimanded him to never again give away his contact number without taking the other party’s as well, just so as to save him from an overwhelm of insecure thoughts.

“So you are really not going to indulge in this vodka with me? Is my energy not that contagious enough for you tonight?” asked Quinton. The annoyed Cliff replies, “I am not in the mood. Actually, I think I should just head to my bedroom. Make sure you lock up the door.”

“Okay? Thank you for letting me stay the night, and for the vodka of course.”

Just a few footsteps of Cliff into the bedroom Quinton whispers to himself, “It must be that damn Masego. I cannot believe that he might actually be into him, maybe even more than I am into him? I need to do something. I want this boy all to myself.” Cliff and Quinton met at the open day of the University of Western Cape when they were still undergraduate students. The comfort and liberty of their sexualities and their common interests was the foundation of their friendship. Cliff was the well-known and outspoken man with an outstanding academic record, even had both men and women swooning over his beautiful face, and of how his speech would distort any encoded message directed to him. He was a free thinker and had a promising future in the field of science. His long-term dream was to be a profoundly national surgeon. Binge watching medical series such as The Good Doctor and Grey’s Anatomy was a favorite hobby of his. And Quinton was a liberated gay man who was highly privileged as his mother was an international author and his father a chemical engineer. Being the only child in a stable environment was not enough for him as he desired to share the profits with a significant other. He has had the worst luck in romantic relationships because every man he has been with either wanted strict coitus, his money, and others were disturbed and/or threatened by his fierce and bold nature. Their first year at the University of Western Cape was a thrilling experience; from the exceptional yet demanding academic work they had encountered to the social adventures, they were pleased with the choices they made. And to have someone to experience it with was a mutual benefit. Cliff was the “hot boy” of the varsity, the attention he received was overwhelming to the extremity of him eventually being a player of hearts. He has come across a fair amount of people whom he gave a chance to date him. What made him mysterious or rather heartless was his power of charm that lured men in his closet as he did not feel as confident to be openly gay to everyone and even himself. And as any good friend, Quinton didn’t suck up to Cliff’s unlawful acts. He questioned his righteousness, conscience and truth each time he would go and fuck some boy. Cliff’s moronic behavior was the death of Quinton’s patience, but his faith in being a good example to him did not fade away.

The alarm clock rings and it is a bright Monday morning. The way the sun kissed Masego’s face was as if God is sending out a message to him, to shine the light that is within him and never settle to being dragged to the dark, to grab opportunities that are given to him, and become his destined self in this journey of life. Though a sense of doubt was running down his cheeks like sweat from a morning jog as he contemplated on whether he should text Cliff. Masego has been single for almost a year and has been the happiest he has been, despite still facing the sadness prolonging his parents’ death. His little brother, his art and other endeavors have been his greatest structures of motivation and had him realign and refresh and focus on the importance of existing. A relationship is what was missing as he committed his time to a prayer last night, asking for guidance from The Source, and after three deep breaths he wins this round with his battle with anxiety and picks up the phone and sends Cliff a message saying: Good morning, Cliff. Masego here. I know your patience may have probably been tested, but I hope your ego can be scorched by the sun. I cannot seem to forget about the moment we shared last Friday night. Your energy is closely related to mine yet so distant, because of our differences. If you do not mind, I would like to see you again.

“Boy, you had me tripping the entire weekend. No sign of a phone call or a text message, just nothing. But then again we are pretty much strangers so I could not have expected you to be so easy and text me instantly. I hope you are doing well and the day will go accordingly. I, too, wish to see you again,” Cliff responds. Thereafter ten equal text messages to each other and they have decided to go out on a date tonight at La Colombe Restaurant (Cape Town).

Cliff became one with the birds, flocking off to sights that washed away his distasteful past. He began contemplating on his varsity wicked period and how comfortable he was in being lost, of how easily he was misled in sinking in the quicksand. Maybe it was a strange confusion, or maybe the life trials wanted to show him his true colors. He had a rush of thoughts on how he wanted his future to be and the person he wanted to become. Sleeping in the bed of doubt and judgement was not his way out tonight as he pampered himself with a spa treatment and retail therapy during the day since it was his day off at work. He wanted to look good for Masego, because for the first time in the longest while he genuinely is ready to commit to a relationship and not feel that it is a way of escapism but of becoming. Around 4pm Cliff sends Masego their reservations for 7pm via text. Masego covered in paint and sweat from his “exquisite painting ever” as he describes it then thought to himself: he really wants to go out with me. So I am worthy enough to be paid respect and nurture after all. Better fish out an outfit before time, one enough to affirm to myself and show him that I am a bad bitch. “A fine purple silk suit and black LV boots would be a great fit for me,” he said to himself. Masego was never one to go the extra mile for an outfit, simplicity was his accessory to looking and smelling good. One and a half hours into the evening he practices his daily skin care routine including trimming his mustache. Another great aspect of him was that he took pride in never being late for a commitment, so he drove off to the location 20 minutes before as it was a 10-15 minute drive from his place. The parking lot wasn’t occupied, there was a chaperone to escort him to the entrance, another one to accompany him to his designated seat, and this directed him to a special table where Cliff awaited with flowers in one hand, Ferrero Rocher chocolates on the other, and the cleanest smile one would throw his drawers on the floor for. A dinner for two, a restaurant booked just for them, Sade D’Angelo and Maxwell’s music playing, a variety of African and International cuisine available – a night of complete kisses.

“You…you look so…so perfect. A complete depiction of the divine masculine and feminine combined would look like,” Cliff says, almost choking on his English Blazer cologne. “Thank you. I am impressed with your choice of flowers, chocolates, cologne, and room lighting. The precision in the way your time locks with your shirt, and your enchanting smile that gets me all giddy and awakens my sexual energy to an extent that my legs continue to nervously dance under this table.” Cliff gladly sends a gratitude for the appreciation of his efforts with a giggle and volunteers to ask for a waiter so they can order.

[Quinton is calling]

“Excuse me for a second,” Cliff tells Masego as he stands to answer the call.

“Bitch, where are you this evening? I wanna hang.”

“You were at my place for the entire weekend, how much more attention do you need? Plus, I am in the middle of something right now so I need to cut this call short and attend quickly to it.”

“Is that D’Angelo’s “Voodoo” playing in the background? What, you got a twink over at your place?”

“I am having dinner with Masego. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go. Chat soon.”

[Cliff ends the call while Quinton was still speaking]

Now it is very rare for friends to have trackers over each other’s phones/cars, but the pair has had it for security purposes for the past three years now. With a vendetta against this meeting and mode of communication between Masego and Cliff, Quinton decides to tap into the tracking system and attend to where Cliff is. He finally arrives at the restaurant and the chaperone will not allow him inside as it was reserved for Masego and Cliff only. Even after his false arguments of wanting to share something urgent with Cliff, the chaperone instructed the guards to escort him off the premises. He left. He was angry. He couldn’t wait to get to the nearest bar and drown his rage in at least 2 bottles of gin.

“Why do I have to be the last in everything? Why should I always have to be the shadow? Why does Cliff always have to get whoever he wants and I remain lonely? I should be with Masego. I deserve to be with him. I should be in there with him sharing my dreams, drinking bubbly and jamming to whoever they are currently jamming to, popping my ass for him. Me, that should be me, not Cliff! He has been a loose cannon for years, and I was always his therapy. If he thinks I will let him destroy another soul in my presence then he has another thing coming,” Quinton aggressively affirms. Abstaining from sex for a year has been a great decision that he could have made for himself; although it is a different story with alcohol; he was willing to give it up tonight. He wanted just one night for his skin to crawl and his soul to escape in another man’s. A Tyson Beckford look-alike has been staring at him, wondering for how long will this body keep sinking ‘til it has enough. But that was not the only thing that drew his attention to Quinton; his freckles on his brown skin amounted to a 99% number of guys he has been with, and wanted to add Quinton to the list. As Quinton tried walking to the restroom he fell to the floor, and this mysterious Tyson Beckford look-alike who goes by the name Mike helps him up and assists him to the restroom. Mike was attracted to submissive big booty boys and ensured that Quinton didn't leave his sight. After doing his business Quinton washes his hands and face and as drunk as he is swiftly falls in the hands of Mike.

“Wanna fuck?”

“You know I do,” Mike cheekily responds.

Quinton’s drunk mind was still sober enough to ask if Mike had a condom with him which fortunately he did. And they went straight in one of the toilet rooms, locked the door, and Quinton’s celibacy was history.

“Wow! That felt…amazing,” Quinton says, still trying to catch his breath.

“Your booty is sexy. I’m glad I pounded it,” says Mike with pride.

But Quinton silences Mike’s ego and refuses to give him his numbers, telling him it was just for the night and he doesn’t relate with fuckboys.

“I still cannot believe that you booked this place for the both of us. If I did not know any better I would think you just wanna sleep with me,” Masego questions Cliff’s intentions.

“Give me your hand. I want you to feel the stimulation that your presence articulates to my heart. The old me would have taken you to a hotel, gotten you drunk, and slept with you. I won’t lie and say that I don’t want to, because you are way too attractive. But my intentions are to learn how to know love, teach myself how to love you (if you let me), and grow with you,” Cliff confesses, and furthermore says, “I have mistreated people before. I have fumbled hearts. Now I sit here today and my intentions are to write a new book of earnest and unconditional love.” Masego rewinds his mind to their first memory, at the art gallery, and of how it was this very transparent disposition that pulled him right into Cliff’s arms.

[Goapele’s “Closer” plays]

“Please, please dance with me.”

Gliding and sliding to the rhythms of the beat ever so casually, like they were used to it, like they were professionally built for moments like this, their bodies were in one motion and their eyes were synchronized to the constellation of stars and the evening breeze. Their heartbeats were at a similar rate as their lips confirmed a relationship between them.

Ten months later Masego and Cliff took a trip to Dubai to celebrate the launch of Masego’s first and most probably not his last art exhibition, Yo Soy La Luz – which is Spanish for “I am the light” – inspired by the rise from his transgressions to the grace of his prosperity. This is not just a personal but a business vacation where Masego plans to hunt for at least two potential clients that he has been following for 7 months on social media. In their free time they wanted to spend as much time together as possible. So they first went for some expensive shopping and leisure at the Dubai Mall and thereafter perused nature at the Dubai Fountain before they went for dinner at Burj Al Arab Jumeirah (a luxurious hotel with posh dining and beach). The transition from a boy to becoming a man who is accountable for his actions, a man who is encountering his purpose in life, a man who is committed to embrace the vibration of love, has really been an amazing journey for Cliff. Masego was like the god he needed to save him – their compatibility really ignited the fire in their companionship – love ruled in their relationship. At prices ranging from R22 000 to spend a night at Burj Al Arab Jumeirah, it was worth the effort as Cliff had planned to pop the big question to Masego. Cliff had arranged with the hotel with the hotel manager(s) to prepare the finest hotel room, fill it to the brim with flowers, candles and a box of chocolates. A brand new CD-package including Floetryʼs “Floetic”, Dʼangeloʼs “Brown Sugar” and Jill Scottʼs “Who is Jill Scott?” were his gift to the love of his life. As they entered the room Masegoʼs eyes were filled with tears. He was overwhelmed by the grand gestures made by Cliff; from the flowers to the music, and a pianist who was playing Lauryn Hillʼs “nothing even matters” as he was walking further into the room.

(Pianist is still playing)

“My sunshine on rainy days, my lecturer when I wave to my unrighteous ways, you have been the closest thing to heaven to me and I cannot imagine my life without you. I know these months have been challenging, with both our demanding occupations, and our families and friends being in the way of us being together. I believe that every trial we went through was for a greater purpose and the moment right here. I pledge myself to you, to be patient and loving, to be kind and understanding, to be honest with myself and you. I earnestly want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?,” proposes Cliff on one knee. The tears on his face and the dryness of his throat couldnʼt allow Masego to utter more words than “Yes baby, yes…” In a split second Cliff gradually places a golden carat ring on Masegoʼs finger and Cliff throws in another surprise and excuses the pianist so he could play Masegoʼs favorite song, “Booʼd Up”. After all the emotional experience and sending the pianist away, Masego locks the door and presses his lips on his fiancé, ready to give him the greatest sex of all time. Masego is a Scorpio, so there was no way he was going to hold back on anything that he knew he had the willpower to offer. And indeed their souls made the greatest love they ever experienced — it was magical — their bodies were finally intertwined and ready to join the aliens in space.

Flying back to South Africa after 3 weeks of an existential trip all they would like to do is rest before the rush of their jobs occur the following day. On the other side of the story Quinton has not disregarded his vengeful plan to snatch Masego from Cliff, so for the past 3 weeks while the couple has been away he had been plotting his way into making his idea a reality.

Both Cliff and Masego sent out text messages to their workplaces informing them they have arrived safely back in the country and will report for their duties first thing tomorrow morning. Switching off their phones was a great deal if they wanted to have a good rest. Three minutes after Quinton tried calling Cliff after not hearing from him for three full weeks he figured he was still on the flight back into the country, until he went to Cliffʼs place and saw their vehicles presented in the yard. He was perplexed as to how his best friend would not inform him of his safe return. Because the security guard knows him and he knows the house pass code, he lets himself in the house to check up on Cliff. After a few rounds of ratchet yelling there was no response, it is as if both Cliff and Masego had taken sleeping pills. So Quinton invites himself in the bedroom and finds a messy room with bags, flowers, shopping bags everywhere. So he writes Cliff a note and places it on his side of the bed as he notices an engagement ring on his finger. And with disbelief he checks Masegoʼs finger, and it confirms it all. With disappointment drawn on his face he adds a last piece to the note, “congratulations on your engagement, bitch!”

The next morning as they were getting ready for work Cliff notices Quintonʼs note.

“Quinton was here? Baby, were you aware of any movements in the room yesterday while we were asleep?,” Cliff asks.

“I was in a parallel universe, my love. I heard nothing of this nature,” responds Masego.

Cliff was disappointed in himself for neglecting Quinton for the past few weeks, regardless that he was spending a lot of time with his fiancé. Could love have made him a fool?

In traffic on his way to work Cliff thinks of calling Quinton to check up on him, and he answers the call.

“Hey you. I know I have been a jackass of late. It was not my intention, but I just needed time off and spend it with-”

“With your fiancé, I know,” interjects Quinton, rolling his eyes.

“I was going to tell you at the right time. Things have just been shifty and I needed to get a grip of everything. I am happy with where I am now. And I want to share my joy with you, my baddest bitch. So could you please assist me with the engagement party as Masego and I are finally going to announce our engagement,” says Cliff.

“I will be delighted to help you, my friend. Leave it all to me,” Quinton responds with a smirky smile (mind you he has never addressed Cliff as “my friend”, so you already know it is about to get ugly.)

The engagement party was scheduled for tomorrow evening and Quinton suggested that Cliff and Masego sleep at Cliffʼs apartment because he wants the party to take place at Masegoʼs place for less expenses, and secretly for his devious plan to partake. Everyone was pleased.

Close friends, business associates and Masegoʼs brother were the special guests at the engagement party. The interior design was exceptional, a variety of food and drinks were available, a dj was keeping everyone in a good mood, and the couple was happy.

[Quinton bribes a doctor that works with Cliff at the hospital to lie and say that they have an hourʼs emergency at the hospital that needs urgent attention.]

Cliff and Masego announce their beautiful engagement and their time in Dubai. Congratulations filled the room. Everyone was well fed and pretty much sloshed from the heavy drinks they had thereafter. And Dr. Jones calls Cliff and assigns him to the hospital for a “surgery” that needs to take place at ER at the hospital. Quinton observed everything in the room and was enjoying the sight of his plan coming together. Masego was tipsy, Cliff was about to depart from the hospital, and the guests were about to leave. So Quinton goes to Masego to make small talk in the lounge, and secretly spikes his drink, heavily so. After 2 minutes of the gulps of the alcoholic beverage Masego was drinking, his body felt weak and couldnʼt awake to any activity other than sleep. Unconscious and alone was all that Quinton wanted Masego to feel and be, and he voluntarily lifted Masego up to the bedroom. A designated bedroom which he had locked for the entire evening, specifically for this time, specially for Masego. As he unlocked the door Masego tried hard to open his eyes and comprehend what was going on. Succeeding to unlock the door Quinton lays Masego on the bed and the rough landing knocks on the door of his eyes and he realizes that this is his bedroom. He vaguely watches a naked body slow grind on his thighs and heavy breathing all around his neck. He thinks itʼs Cliff. He thinks tonight is his turn to practice being a versatile bottom. There are rose petals around and on the bed, an organization of a bottle of chardonnay accompanied by two large boxes of Debonairs pizza and a snack of Sweet Chilli Doritos lay on the side-table to indulge in after the first fuck. After a few unfamiliar orgasms from Quinton, Masego slightly pulls out and slaps his face to try and recognize the face of the unknown voice.

“Fuuuuuuuck!,” exclaims Masego.

“Fuck yes, boo. Come back inside me, feel my warmth. You didnʼt even cum as yet,” says Quinton.

“Quinton? What… What are you doing here? What is going on? How… are… we… doing… this? Oh my baby is going to freak out,” Masego says with sadness and anxiety.

A regretful morning of confusion and guilt feasts on Masegoʼs conscience, knowing that he has involuntarily broken Cliffʼs trust, he has wrecked the walls of a home they were building. Not only will his innocent act of infidelity challenge his relationship with Cliff but his own too — after finding out that he is HIV positive — Quinton and Masego did not use protection, and Quinton had been infected weeks ago from his quickie with Mike the other night.

The helium that is holding breaths of these characters formed a collision and momentum is conserved. Bridges are burning and the will of survival is the instrument of freedom, forgiveness, acceptance and love. In the light of the truth, the weight of the black cloud that was hanging over Masego and Cliff cleared as they got married. And Quinton was rightfully lonely.

Written: June 2019