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It was another one of my dreams, or is it just me?
I was lying in his bed, in that hotel, after the concert... Oh, blessed concert. I couldn't take my eyes off him. How can a man be so attractive? A man like that, with strangely blue and tender eyes, such pale skin and soft lips. I was below and he was above me. I have no idea if this was real or just another daydream of mine.
"You're a fool, Andy," I say in my head, "How did I end up in Morrissey's room and WITH Morrissey?"
Whether it's a dream or real, this is getting strange. This isn't just a game of glances like we usually do, or a typical short conversation like at the end of a concert or with Johnny in the middle. No, this is now something intimate.
I limit myself to merely sighing, and my cheeks are blushing. I think I know what the root of all this was: a few too many drinks.
I think Moz is looking for something, something Johnny unfortunately can't give him because he never lets go of Angie, his beloved Angie. And since he won't give it to him, I will.
Moz settles in more comfortably and thinks it's best if I start this. I take the initiative and begin unbuttoning his shirt, stripping it off. The dim light outside allows me to see his body, so beautiful, even though he looks weak, I highly doubt he really is.
He looks at me out of nowhere, just as I was about to do something morally questionable, and says:
"Why do you still think this happened? There's no way anything could happen between us, Andrew, understand...Understand."
That phrase repeated itself in my mind like a vinyl record playing over and over again. I imagined kissing his lips, which were so tense but at the same time crying out for me, touching his cold body, leaving a mark on his shoulder, kissing his neck, making him moan.
My green eyes merging with his blue eyes. It seemed as if if we looked at each other again, our bodies would become one, leaving only the carnal evidence of what we did.
Too bad, this time it was a dream.
I woke up shocked, suddenly. I had to practice. That night would be our concert, our last concert...
My last thought as I watched him sing that night was, "You're too good for me, you're too good for someone."