Teaser Thursday is brought to you by a self-confessed Twink, with a capital T. This teaser is from a story I’m still writing called The Secret Confessions of a Twink.
Just kidding. Why the fuck would I start my life story off like that? Hell, I’m not Bridget Jones or some romance obsessed woman or man who thinks Mr. Right is out there to sweep me off my feet. No, siree. I’m not that naive. My name is Everett William Helms, but you can call me Rett like every other soul worth mentioning. My parents not included because if anyone was worth mentioning, it was definitely not them. Who gives their kid the name Everett anyway? Oh right, my dad. He climbed Mount Everest, you see, and he thought he’d be smart and name his kid Everett, as though he wanted every chance he could to gloat that he climbed a big mountain. Whoop de doo!
Anyway, that’s another story. So who am I? Well, I’m a self-confessed video game and sex addicted twink. That’s with a capital t, by the way. Yeah, it’s a label, but I wear it proudly. If someone wants to label me as a young, pretty gay man, I’d take it! Better than a creeper or something worse.
If you’re here to read a story about love conquering all, you’re reading the wrong life story, buddy. Love isn’t like romance novels, it doesn’t just happen, at least not to me. But it’s not like I expected it to anyway. I didn’t want a love story, I wanted hard and rough fucking with as many hot men as I could get my hands on, and that included my father’s best friend. That’s what got me kicked out of home, I suppose. That and I smirked at my father when he caught us in my bed like I’d planned for him to.
Now, at this point you’re probably thinking I’m an arrogant prick. You may be right. But then again, you may be wrong. It’s so easy to judge a person, pretend to know them when you’ve barely conversed with them for five minutes, but there is more to a person than meets the eye. And you, my friends, don’t know half of my life story. But I guess that’s why you’re here right? To read about my life—the confessions of a twink’s life in Brooklyn, New York. About how a guy like me—standing at 5’9” with messy brunette hair, tiny blue plugs in my ears and an attitude to match my age—could find love. Well, I did and finding the right man wasn’t as easy as one, two, three. Hell, it hit me square in the chest when I least expected it, and it hurt too—a lot. So, my friends, sit back and relax while this twink tells you how it really happened.
Bit a snarky a-hole, isn’t he? 😉