I can't help but have a bit of a cocky grin on my face as I look over the "competition", as it were. A local charitable institution is currently running an event benefiting various local causes, and as a part of that, they're putting on a volunteer bachelor auction where some lucky ladies can bid on dates with an assortment of studs. But while there are some admittedly quite attractive guys on offer, it's clear I'm the attraction here—it's hard to beat the local baseball hero that was a bit of a regional legend in high school and had an absolutely torrid start to the college season. So of course, the date with me is set to be the last one auctioned off, and I get to watch as everybody else gets put under the hammer while the auctioneer rattles off whatever the hell it is auctioneers say with insane speed. I can't even listen to the guy, but at least I don't have to. Some of the gym bros on offer get some pretty impressive results, but at the same time it's clear some ladies in the front row are holding off.
Eventually, it's time for me to be auctioned off, and hoo boy, things are off to a hot start; particularly with those front row girls, they're practically falling over each other to bid with their little bid signs. But inevitably, the price starts to get too rich for some of them. Bit by bit, the bids fall off, and it's starting to seem like one of them has got it wrapped up... but then another bid comes in. I can't even tell who it is, they're so far away in the back, but evidently the auctioneer's podium is helping him, because there's somebody all the way back there bidding, too. What I can see is the frustration on the face of the girl in the front, and how much she has to think about each new bid. But every time she bids higher, the one in the back effortlessly bids higher. Before long, she's got to throw in the towel, and for an absurd price in the thousands of dollars, the date is sold.
In the back after the auction, I can see all the other bachelors on offer getting paired up with the ones that won them, but somehow, my affluent lady isn't here. But just as I'm about to get really confused, the auctioneer comes up to me, handing me a piece of paper. "Hey, the woman that won your auction wasn't much of a talker, just put this paper into my hand alongside the entire bid in cash and left. With her hoodie pulled way over her head and her long black hair, I couldn't even see her face, but I guess she's just shy?" he explains before heading out. The paper isn't much of an explanation either, just telling me to head to the Golden Oyster and tell the attendant there's a reservation in my name. The Golden Oyster? Shit, that place is expensive as all hell. But then, if she can spend that much on the auction, she can spend on a dinner, too. Not sure what this whole spiel is about, but hey, I got auctioned off, I'm just along for the ride now.
It doesn't take me long to walk to the middle of town, where the Golden Oyster is. Thankfully, I was wearing my best suit to the auction—a slightly old number I had for my brother's wedding—I'm probably going to need it to even get in. Hell, just stepping inside, I feel like I don't belong here. This is so out of my league. And yet, when I step up to the front desk and mention a reservation in my name, the attendant very, very eagerly leads me along to a part of the restaurant that is sectioned off with a curtain. And good lord, if the last room was luxurious, then this is just decadent. Huge oil paintings adorn the walls, golden candelabras coat the room in a soft, warm light... and there in the middle, a single table for two, a young man with short, blonde hair sitting at it and trying not to make eye contact.
"Um, sorry, I think I might be in the wrong place. I was supposed to meet a lady here," I begin, but he shakes his head.
"N-No... you're right here. Take a seat, please," he replies, his tone nervous.
Not wanting to be rude, I sit down. "So, will the lady be arriving later?" I then ask him, but again, he shakes his head.
It takes him quite some time to answer me, and when he does, I can tell why. "I... I was the lady a-at the auction. I had a wig and a hoodie..." he begins to explain, then trails off.
Now, I'm not a super great judge of character, but I think I can see what's going on here. I think. At the very least, I have a sneaking suspicion this guy's either gay or wondering if he's gay, disguised himself to score a date with a dude without anybody noticing, then ducked out as soon as possible to hide here in the VIP section of a high-class restaurant where nobody will see. That statement with his general anxiety really gives me that vibe, and just looking at this poor sap, I feel bad for him. So I give him a smile and reach my hand out across the table. "Well, I'm Felix, though I guess you already know that. Nice to meet you."
His expression visibly brightens up after that, and it's clear he was still really scared I'd bail or something. He takes my hand and gives it a meek shake. "Um, I'm Julius. Nice to meet you, too..." he trails off. The atmosphere has now gotten a good bit lighter too, and the two of us take our menus and begin reading them. There's a lot of French stuff on here, and everything is super expensive, but somehow, I don't think money is going to be an issue tonight. And in a moment of quiet, it hits me once more: I'm on a date with another dude... and I'm fine with that.