Keeping Up with the Joneses

The Spring season is transitioning and so is my wardrobe. I spent most of the day putting all of my winter clothes in the back of my closet and bringing spring and summer apparel to the front. What was even more irritating was organizing my shoes. I have a serious shoe addiction-- I love a nice looking shoe. They don't even have to be expensive shoes (I have quite a few of those also), but I also love a lot of Underground brands that really don't get shine the way they should. I find a lot of those online. While navigating through my closet I found many clothes with tags in tact. Things I have bought while out shopping with others that I may not have even wanted. When I told you I had an addictive personality I wasn't playing. I love options so in my mind I can never have too many clothes, but my closet it begging to breathe a bit and so you have it: I'm downsizing! You know how we hold on to things thinking either they will come back in style or that you will actually rock them again someday like in your prime (kind of like a stale relationship). Well I have the tendency to keep a lot of things a very long time, but then I'm always adding new things so it can be a bit much. I finished my early afternoon of cleaning and had about 4-5 bags of clothes I have to do away with. The politically correct thing to do would be to take them to the Salvation Army, but I ended up just throwing them away. I know... I know (next time I promise). Keegan and I were supposed to be having a late brunch, but he never called and I wasn't crazy about going so I didn't text or call him either. Instead, I decided to go clean my car and get a haircut (probably every black man in America does this on Saturday). Usually I am rocking a curly fro that is lined to perfection, but lately I have kept my hair really low because I just can't do the maintenance right now. My life is pretty hectic and less is definitely best. Before I headed out I decided to knock on Symone's door and see what she had planned for today. After the third knock I turned to walk away and then the door opened and I turned around. To my surprise there was Maine; shirtless and looking good enough to devour! I kept my composure and was about to ask for Symone, but then she slithered from behind him and invited me in. I insisted it could wait, but she grabbed my hand and led me in. They were watching a movie, and I could smell the lingering scent of sex. "That bitch", I thought to myself. I could also smell Maine's cologne and made it in an instant-- Unforgivable by Sean John. Maine picked up his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head; I couldn't help checking him out and I knew Symone was watching me lick my lips. "Nik, let me borrow you for a minute." Symone and I made our way to her bedroom and I sat at her vanity while she slipped out of her robe to reveal her hookers-r-us ensemble. I had to admit Symone was holding much better than I would have imagined-- big titties, flat stomach, tiny waist and phat ass. "It took a bit of work, but I finally reeled him in." She began to laugh and then she gestured by spreading her two index fingers in opposite directions. It looked to be around 9-10 inches she had insinuated. "I will tell you all about it tomorrow, but we are about to drink some wine and probably go for round two! I just wanted to let you know Terrence definitely doesn't play for your team." "So Maine wasn't his name after all?" "Who's name is Maine?" 'Terrence' had startled me as he entered the room, "Trying to steal her from me already?", he said. "No we were just discussing a mutual friend. I'm on my way to get cut up and wash my whip so I will catch you guys later." Symone took off toward the door grabbing her robe on the way. I noticed there had been no tension when Maine entered the room and Symone was barely dressed. Either he's just not that into her or she had spilled my T (told him I was gay). I really didn't care either way. I followed Symone and I could feel Maine staring at me and I wanted very badly to turn around, but I didn't. Symone hugged me, giggled and whispered something clever in my ear. I had to give it to her. Symone was definitely a stand-up bitch. I mean unlike me renting my condo from my mother; Symone actually bought hers. She has a Boutique on Woodward Avenue called "Smooches" that is doing quite well. In fact, she informed me a couple of weeks ago she was thinking of opening another. Symone had always put her education and business before the men in her life and her sexcapades were her way of making up for lost time. At 30 years old she was doing quite well; had no interest in marriage or children; so I suppose a good fuck every now and then was right up her alley. I never did make it to get my car cleaned. The weather turned bad once I left the barbershop. In an E. Lynn Harris book my barber would be 6'3 with a face and body to die for, but in my reality my barber was about 40 with a full grill, thick southern accent, and not attractive in the least. The deal was he was probably the baddest dude I'd ever met with a pair of clippers or shears; and for that he had my respect. I ended up walking the mall checking out the guys and the fashions. I didn't have it in mind to buy anything, but I saw a nice hat and had to have it. I was walking past ManAlive when I was stopped in my tracks. There was Santos laughing and chatting with Him. Him, being Brandon --the bitch he cheated on me with for months who was supposed to be my friend. It had been two years and I don't know if I was bothered by the fact that they were still together or that I still had feelings for Santos-- possibly both. They didn't notice me and I slipped into a store until they passed. I left in the opposite direction. I decided to just leave the mall, "This town is too fucking small", I uttered to myself. Just as I was about to get into my car I heard my phone ringing. I picked up without looking at the caller-id determined to get out of there as fast as I could. "You little asshole you wasn't even gonna call a nigga were you?", Keegan expressed in his sarcastic tone. I laughed and I needed to in that moment. "Come over and chill with us at Balboa." "Sure, I'm not too far away." Once I got to Balboa the whole gang was there. Myself, Keegan, Luxe, and Maverick. They were all drinking Long Island Iced Tea. After our usual greeting I turned to the bartender and asked for one myself when I lost my breath (second time today). He was beautiful. Kind of like one of those guys you see in the movies. He said something, but I didn't hear him so I simply smiled. "He asked will that be all nigga", chimed Maverick. I didn't know it then, but Maverick could sense the sexual tension between us. Maverick has never liked any guy I have ever talked to -- ever. He's always protecting me and I won't lie I do like it. This bartender was definately not the usual bartender Tricky-Ricky. Another gorgeous guy, but he has been fucked by just about every gay/bi/curious nigga in Detroit; on top of that he was once a low-budget porn star. Luxe whispered in my ear, "I had my eye on him, but since I have Roberto coming over tonight I'm going to let you have him", we both giggled. "What so funny? We can't get it on the jokes?", Keegan asked. "It was an inside thing; thats all", Luxe confirmed. 'The Bartender' was actually Trey Livingston. He was a Wayne State University graduate that was killing time as a bartender waiting on news from his law school applications. He chatted with me in between serving other patrons and seemed like a really nice person. Mind you; my guard is still up and I refused to believe anyone is what they seem to be anymore. For some reason my guard slipped the more I sipped and I allowed Trey to get my phone number; must have been the Long Island or that smile (probably both). I had to goto the restroom and when I stood up I realized that I was a bit tipsy. Maverick followed me to the bathroom. "I figured that much. I knew he was your type when I saw him. Pretty boy with muscles and swag. Just take it easy this time I don't want to have to dust his ass like I did that bitch-made Santos." "I just met him calm down", I said as I was pissing at my urinal. "Well I just had to get that off my chest. Now lets get out of here before people start to talk", Maverick laughed. I washed my hands and checked myself out in the mirror. I was looking good tonight and I wasn't even dressed for the club. I ended up really fucked up and although it was 7pm when we arrived we didn't leave until 1am. Trey's shift was over and he had left and just my luck he probably wouldn't call anyway. I'm not exactly the flyest dude in the club and I'm sure he's just looking for sex anyhow. We all ended up crashing at Keegan's. We sobered up and watched a marathon of "Keeping Up with the Kardashians" until we fell asleep. I hadn't even thought about Santos and Him since I got that call from Keegan. I think its amazing how your friends can bring you through some things without even trying. The Lord knows I needed some escapism and I thank him kindly for that opportunity. Maverick always says the best way to get over an old jones is to get under a new one. Hmmm....

Barriers to Entry

Picture it-- I'm going through my closet and realize I have so many clothes, but nothing to wear. This absolutely sucks ass (excuse moi français) when you're already going to be late for class. Luckily I am great in a crisis and threw together something that looked planned and chic (yeah I wanted to say fierce but its used so loosely these days). As I exit my condo I can hear the mailboxes opening and closing and this can only mean one thing: the sexy ass mail-man is within range. Usually I would wait for him to leave and simply watch him walk away; for some reason today I was feeling myself and decided to check my mail while he was finishing filling the other boxes. I'm one of those people who won't speak unless the other person does (rude boy) and most black men will simply give a head nod. To my suprise I heard a baritone growl, "Good morning. On your way to work?" 'Yeah, something like that." "Well don't mind me. *then he smiles*" "I don't." "What did you say?" "--ugh I got to go. Have a nice day." Yeah I bitched up, but you would have too. His smile was pristine and he smelled of expensive cologne. No fucking mail-man should be 6'5 and fucking flawless. I'm sure he gets all kinds of phone numbers in this joint. See I live in an upscale condominium on the west side of town-- no I'm not bragging because I'm poor as hell. The only reason I live here is because my mom is my landlord and gives me a nice discount on the rent (I love mommy). Oh where was I? Yeah about my place; its full of professional, single, too damn independent females. My girl Symone lives across the hall and she is always pushing up on me even though she knows how I get down. Its a sad state when black women run out of options. Anyhow, she has been trying to get with Mayne (the mail-man). We don't know his name so we decided upon Mayne. The only problem is he isn't biting her bait and so she sent me to do her dirty work. "I think he must be a faggot--- ahem no offense." "None taken." "Damn I got all this ass and titties...waist tiny as a bitch and I can't get no man? What the fuck.", she carried on in her own zone not even looking at me. Everytime Symone said something she thought was clever you'd here her chime in... "Fuck the dumb shit though." Long story short I was supposed to report to her what I found out; which ended up being nothing. I'm not the type of guy that could ever approach another. That is one of my biggest hang-ups. I guess you can say I am shy, but maybe that is just an excuse. Usually it would make my day to brag in Symone's face how Mayne was digging me like an old soul record, but somehow I couldn't clock his T. Part of me felt as if he was trying to come on to me, but then you have to remember I have been celebate for quite sometime-- I might have saw and heard what I wanted to at the time. "Damn I gotta quit letting Symone talk me into this shit," I thought aloud and then my phone rang. "Yo come get me. Come get me right fucking now!" "Keegan? Whats wrong." "My fucking moms and Kai got into it again. I'm too upset to drive. COME GET ME" "I'm on my way to class. I can scoop you up but your ass better be ready." "I don't care I will chill at your lil' college until you get out. I just need to get away." As I shifted the gears of my stick and changed lanes I thought about how everytime I am trying to do something for myself someone comes a long and bothers me. Then I decided to retract the previous thought. Keegan has been really good to me and the least I could do was help him out. As I pulled into Keegan's subdivision I looked around at all of the manicured lawns and gigantic homes. Of course Keegan's home was the tallest on the block. Just last year he had a second floor added to his ballers pad; "Must be nice", I thought. As I pulled up to the drive way Keegan was pacing his sidewalk; back and forth as he yelled into his phone. I couldn't make out the words for Jill Scott's "Come See Me"; I turned down the radio and I could tell from his tone he was talking to Kai. Every other word was "motherfucka". "Hey sexy, you looking for a date?", I yelled. Keegan came and got into the car still cursing up a storm. I listened to that shit for a few minutes while I drove to class and finally he hung up on Kai. Needless to say I was pleased; Jill Scott resumed. There was silence for a few seconds and then Keegan said something that I thought was profound. "Why is it the ones who you love the most betray you first?" I knew it was a rhetorical question and so I changed the subject, "You just need some air bro". "You know, I think you might be right. I'm breaking up with Kai." "Whoa, I didn't tell you to go to that extreme." "Kai called my mom a bitch today....to her face. I know my mother is hell on wheels, but nobody NOBODY is going to disrespect her." I was silent because I knew Keegan was serious. We were pulling up to my school and I was eyeing the handicapped spots when I remembered Keegan was with me. I didn't want him to judge me so I opted not to park illegally. "Sounds like what Kai did was dead wrong, but you've got too much invested in this relationship. You guys are in business together for Christ's sake. Calm down. Go check out our library or the rec center. I'm running a little late; are you going to be alright? Do you want my car keys?" "Nah, baby boy its all good. I'm going to go try to get into some ball or if that fails I'll get into a book. Shit I just might find me a college shorty to replace that ZERO." "Cut that out", I said as I laughed and went to class. All during Political Theory I was thinking about the pedestal we all put on the state of being in love. Are we programmed to feel incomplete unless we have it all at once? You know, the car, job, apartment, man, and cash flow. Its amazing how when one of these aren't going right we tend to forget we still have all of the others. The professor was discussing Hitler's propoganda technique and how he used it to brainwash his followers into believing that Jewish people were out to get them. Kind of how George Bush convinced the American people that there were Weapons of Mass Destruction; but that is another story. Have we allowed society to dictate what our definition of happiness should be? Do I feel like 3/4 of a man because I am single with no prospects? Do I go out of my way to assure my friends I am single-by-choice to cover up the fact that I probably do feel less-than being solo? So many questions were running through my mind and suddenly--- "Nikoah am I boring you? You seem to be daydreaming", the Professor said as a couple of students laughed. "No--well actually I am a bit disenchanted, but only because I actually read the assigned chapters unlike some people (glaring at the keekee-ing students)" I went on a 5 minute rant about how Hitler used his people for personal gain and why it was relevant to society today. That will teach her to front me. As I was leaving class I saw Keegan in the hallway talking to a really beautiful Korean girl named Aoki-Lee. I envied Keegan's natural ability to make friends and conversation with people. Maybe if I were that open I wouldn't be so limited. "I see you've met my friend Aoki-Lee; isn't she stunning?", I said (also while making a note to myself how gay that sounded). Keegan smiled and handed Aoki-Lee his phone-- she typed in a number and handed it back to him. I laughed as she walked away and I saw a look on Keegan's face as he looked at her supple ass (which I happened to notice was phat for the first time). Keegan was talking, but I was listening (just laughing on cue). I was a bit disturbed that I never notice Aoki-Lee's phat ass before. I mean I once considered myself bisexual until I tried to eat pussy freshman year and had an allergic reaction. No seriously, she was wearing a bunch of body spray down there and it flared up my asthma. I figured it was a sign that pussy wasn't for me. Anyhow, I just came to the realization that I must be *gulp* all the way gay. I took a moment to think about it, but then I felt a nudge on my shoulder. "Whats on your mind bro? Political Theory couldn't have been that fucking interesting. What do you think about her?" "I think she is nice and bro did you see all that ass?" (I was not about to be outdone by Keegan's masculinity. Hell I even walked with a fake swag all the way to my car.) Its late and I should be sleeping, but I'm up thinking as usual. Mostly about the walls we build to block people from getting in only to find that we are actually trapping ourselves in--to suffocate. Little by little-- everyday I'm going to try to break down some of these barriers to entry. You only live once and as soon as I start living right once will be enough.

Shootin' Up and Gettin' High

I guess in order to get an idea where I'm going I should tell you where I've been. Though I have dated quite a few guys I have only ever been in love with one. Santos was the love of my life and I was genuinely riding in his rocket until he crashed me back to earth a couple of years ago. 4 years of love gone down the drain. I immersed my soul in trying to keep this man when in my heart I knew it was already over. You only set yourself up for failure by staying where you are obviously unwelcome. I tried to fix the relationship and ended up shattering my heart. Santos and I are very different and most people wouldn't think we'd have much in common, but we were indeed kindred spirits. We're both from the same hood; albeit life took us in different directions. Most people think I'm elite and assume I was reared with a silver spoon in my mouth. The truth is I'm a product of a single mother with two kids. I was a latch-key kid and spent most of my days after school watching tv and writing in my journal. I always had dreams bigger than Sheridan Park (our neighborhood). I remember my mother always telling me that although I was in the ghetto I was not of the ghetto. That always stayed with me. Through hard work, happenstance, and the grace of God I made it out of there and so did my family. I met Santos when we both were 11. All of the neighborhood kids would meet up at the playground of an elementary school none of us went to (afterhours) and get into all kinds of mischief. Santos was the cool kid-- you know the type... every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. I remember the first time I saw him I couldn't do anything but stare. It was summer of 1997 and it was a fucking scorcher that day. I could hear Hypnotize by Notorious BIG blasting from someone's car. Santos had almond coloured skin, curly black hair that always looked wet, and the most inviting lips. He was extremely good-looking, but he didn't know it. What I mean is he wasn't stuck on himself. He was also racially ambiguous. Noone really knew what exactly he was and little did they know neither did he because he never knew his father. I always assumed he was 'Rican, but never brought it up because he was very sensitive about his past. His mother died of a drug overdose when he was 8 and he was raised my his grandparents. He's a man's man and he carries himself as such. He isn't much into fashion or primping; his swagger comes naturally. He can rock a white tee, fitted cap, and timbs like noone I've ever seen. Although all of us hung out at the playground we were all cliqued off and unfortunately I wasn't in the cool clique with Santos; so our interaction was limited in the early days. After high school we attended the same community college and had some classes together. That is where our story began. We decided to study together every Sunday. It got to the point where I would find myself looking forward to Sunday and even planning my outfit like it was a date. Santos knew I was gay, but he never mentioned it. "Just my luck", I thought. "Here I am spending time with the finest boy I've ever seen and he had to be straight." Santos and I bonded through conversation. We saw the world very differently, but we shared the same twisted sense of humor. Santos liked to smoke weed and my virginal lungs were curious. I always smelled it on him, but up until this point it never interested me. "So can we go smoke?", I asked. "Hahaha. Nik...you smoke? Stop dreaming." That night I convinced Santos to let me smoke some of his herb. That night I became addicted-- not to the weed but to Santos. I lived and breathed this man for 4 years strong. We were both 18 years old back then, but in that moment when we were smoking weed and looking at the stars as we layed in my convertible that vivid night in August I knew Santos would take a piece of my heart. He did. We were so high that night that we went to the local gas station and bought about 12 of those .50 cent honey buns and ate them all! We listened to Jon B's new album "Stronger Everyday" and reminisced about high school. Santos was captain of the basketball team and was always "shooting up" (which was slang for scoring). I still remember we were on track 15. Lay It Down-- Santos leaned over and kissed me. I lay there paralyzed not knowing what to say and so I said nothing; neither did Santos. Eventually our friendship blossomed into an intense love affair. In the prime of our relationship we were the couple all of my friends envied. Finishing eachother's sentences; cooking for one another--- hell we even moved in together. Everything was perfect until I was accepted as a transfer student into our State University. Santos never really took school that seriously and ended up dropping out of community college a year into it. He found illegal means of income that suited him just fine. We moved from our quaint first apartment into a condo 15 minutes out of town. I never approved of what Santos was doing, but I never disapproved of it either. It was what it was. All this time I kept my head in the books and a couple of years flew by. I graduated with an Associate of Arts in Business and got an invitation from the Dean of Business at State to finish my BA there. They offered me a full scholarship and I accepted. I talked it over with Santos and he encouraged me to go, and assured me we would work things out. We maintained two residences. Santos kept the condo and I rented an apartment not far from State which was an hour and a half away from home. He would come up and spend a week or two with me and I would spend every weekend home with him at the condo. Everything seemed great, but then I began to notice he became distant. The phone calls weren't returned as quickly, he started making excuses as to why he couldn't come be with me. The weekends I would spend at the condo he'd go out and get drunk with his friends so eventually I stopped coming home as often. We had simply grown apart, but me being the optimist I am didn't know when it was time to let go. I loved Santos, but I outgrew him. Hell I still love Santos even though what he did to me was unforgivable. (To be continued.)

Candy Bling

Boys are like candy... some are addictive, delicious--others bittersweet, and then there are those who are sugar-free and leave an after taste that lingers long after they are gone. I've had an aversion to boys for the last 6 months, but we will get into that later. A smart man once told me to write about what I know about; if I don't know anything I know about friendship. I know which ones to cherish and which ones to dispose of. Our circle of four happens to be very tight; the true definition of "ride or die". I'm the addictive one who is an original Pisces wearing my heart on my sleeve and full of emotion. I'm easy to spot being the only dark-skinned guy in the clique. I work out to relieve stress and I've been told I'm quite handsome, but I'm bashful and take it with a grain of salt. I dress to impre$$ and I have a bad habit of buying multiples of my favorite items. Just in case I lose or misplace one. I have an addictive personality that sometimes gets me into trouble (shop-a-holic). I consider myself a book-worm and I need to read like I need to breathe. My family is very important to me. I'm not out, but I assume some of them have an idea that I might be gay because I have a circle of beautiful friend-boys and no history of a girlfriend. I don't feel the pressure to be out because I am very private. My business is just that. No elaboration necessary. I'm probably the most sensitive, but I'm also very smart, ambitious, and a hopeless romantic. Excuse me--- where are my manners? I'm Nikoah, but all of my friends call me Nik. You see I've been in this "lifestyle" for about 6 of my 24 years and after much pain, love, highs, and lows I have come to the conclusion that I have absolutely nothing to show for it. For 6 years I have laid my heart out on a platter only to have my main dish picked over, scattered, and strewn about. Don't get me wrong I've learned my lessons about love, pain, forgiveness, and all that shit. I'm much wiser for the misfortunes, but I'm also damaged goods as a result of them. I find it so hard to put myself out there and trust again... love again.. even try again when it comes to boys. I've been celibate for the last 6 months in an attempt to simply take a break from it all. I can't lie---I do miss sex and I get weak every now and then and may set-up an appointment to get my pipes cleaned, but each time I back out. I'm just not ready to be back on the market yet or even deal with sex. I'm in my 1st year of an intensive 3 year Master's program and the last thing I need is something to divert me from my goals. In the back of my mind I always come to the conclusion that no one will ever compare to my ex Santos. He was everything to me and for 4 years we were "the" couple, but little did I know I wasn't the only apple in the pie. It ended badly and when we do pass each other on the street I don't even speak. I consider myself a very smart guy and its not easy to bullshit me, but when it comes to matters of the heart I suppose we can all become blinded. Enough about me for now; get into my boys.


Maverick is probably the wild child in the group; he's delicious--- definitely delectable. The term flamboyant usually has a negative connotation, but fuck it that's him. He's not fem, but he is very outspoken, in your face, and full of zest. Think Dennis Rodman sans the basketball talent! He is 6'4 and the tallest of the group. His long black locs with auburn frosted tips swing over his masculine face. Maverick isn't exactly handsome, but you couldn't tell him that. He thinks he's the shit and you know what? He is. His distinctive style, smile, swag, attitude, make him irresistible. The boys really dig him and the girls do too. How could they not? Maverick has something many of us wish we had... the guts to be exactly who he is and not give a fuck what the world thinks. He wouldn't dream of being in the closet. Most people know he's bisexual and he wouldn't give a damn. I envy his individuality. Maverick also has a reputation for breaking backs. Word on the street is that the boy can fuck; I wouldn't know. The boys flock to him and its always fun watching them fall head over heels for him when Maverick wouldn't know love if it landed on his shoulders. He does however love his Cuervo, plays Guitar like nobody's business, and has never had a relationship last more than 6 weeks. Although we don't usually take Mav seriously he is very intelligent and was very much there for me through my ups and downs. He is very good in a crisis and is quick to kick someone's ass for messing with me. Out of all my friends he is the one always checking on me and making sure I'm okay. And when he thinks no one is paying attention he can give some of the most brilliant love advice; go figure. Maverick is very bright, but doesn't really apply himself. He is what you would call a jack of all trades and a master of a few. Maybe he spread himself too thin on purpose--I don't really know. He is still in undergrad and usually takes a year off in between semesters. We are planning his graduation party sometime around 2018, but don't quote me on that. Maverick works 3rd shift at a plastics plant and also is the resident computer geek. If you can do it with a computer Mav knows how to do it. This includes programming Direct TV access cards for illegal satellite of which he has an impressive clientele. Thanks to Maverick I have free 24/7 porn. We are always going to one of Mav's gigs. He is in a band called Lousyd Dreamz. He is vicious on guitar and has a mean falsetto. He runs a YouTube channel and is always on the phone carrying on with relative strangers. You cannot talk to him for 5 minutes without his phone buzzing; it can get a bit ridiculous. Our friendship is probably my favorite, but I would never admit that to anyone but you. Its nothing for me to drop by his place and cuddle and watch TV. There is no and never will be sexual chemistry between us so we can cuddle and laugh and talk without the provocative innuendo. What we share is intimacy and that is something I cherish.



Keegan is probably the most hood and the most kind; he's bittersweet. Most people think he's an asshole because he is very quiet around strangers and has accomplished so much at a young age; yet if they had the opportunity to know him like we do they would know he is a really great person. Although he grew up in Messiah Heights (one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the state) you would never know it. Everything about him is ghetto fabulous. He's a hustla and makes a shit load of money as a DJ and Party Promoter. Everything Keegan does is over the top. His 1.5 million dollar house, luxury car, custom clothes, and etcetera has always got to be top of the line. I wouldn't call him materialistic simply because that is all he's ever known. Usually a materialistic person is someone who didn't grow up with the best and is overcompensating-- Keegan is just grand so that's what everyone calls him LeGrand. We're the only ones who call him by his christian name. He's brought a lot of concerts to town and has rubbed elbows with a lot of different stars so naturally everyone tries to get close to him, but he is not the most inviting person. He's been with his boyfriend Kai for 2 years and they have a solid relationship. Kai owns the club we usually hang out at "Balboa". All of us make fun of Keegan and Kai because we can't really figure out who is the bottom because they are both so aggressive. I came to the conclusion that they both are versatile, but I'm not one to gossip so you haven't heard that from me. Keegan and Kai are faithful, but once Kai is drunk (full) he is a big flirt and this causes all types of drama at Balbao. They fight, break up, make up, and other than the drama they are a solid couple. Keegan is about 5'10, caramel complected, with the best body of the bunch. He works out 5 days a week and is always busting out of a fitted shirt. We work out together sometimes, but I don't go as hard as him. Sometimes I do find myself staring at his nipples and salivating, but I try my best to hide it. Noone knows I have a secret crush on him so you better not tell. Keegan is probably the most giving person I have ever met. Its hard to get into his inner circle, but to him once you are a friend you're a friend for life. Keegan and Kai truly compliment eachother and I've never been happier for them. Keegan is 28 and is the Papa Bear of the group (being the oldest). Before he was a DJ and Party Promoter he worked on Wallstreet as a Stock Broker. He has an Economics degree from Dartmouth and can calculate any figure in his head instantly (don't you hate those people). This ivy league educated stallion spends money like its going out of style. I'm a shopper, but always looking for the next bargain as my school stipend and part-time gig doesn't allow me to just pick up whatever I want and not look at the price. Keegan is very thoughtful and never forgets birthdays or imporant anniversaries.

Luxe is last, but certainly not least. Luxe is probably the most classy, but has the tendency to be cold and so I will say he's sugar-free. Luxe is 25 and a teacher so he's not rich, but he does things with such elegance. I love the way he carries himself. I actually brought him into the circle years ago. Luxe and I started out fuck buddies about 5 years ago. I was temporarily broken up with my Santos and met Luxe at a college event. Later that night we were butt naked sexing in my apartment (don't judge me). Once I got back with Santos the sex stopped, but a bond had been created so we became friends. Of all my friends he probably knows me the best. He can tell when I'm lying, upset, and things of that nature. We're also the most a like so we have a camaraderie that is second to none. Luxe went to State with me and has a Bachelors degree in English. He worked for Teach for America for two years and decided to stay on at the Middle School he was assigned to. We have this exclusive book club where we are the only members (insert laughter). We read the same books at the same time and discuss them. This keeps us debating all the time. I find it so interesting how two people can read the same thing, but take away something totally different from it. Luxe can never keep a boyfriend because he lacks affection (this is where we differ). Although he is warm and beautiful inside and out (trust me I know) he isn't very in touch with his emotions. Luxe probably sleeps around more than Maverick, but noone knows it (classy boys never tell). He isn't out and is constantly getting hit on by the female teachers at his school. He is always flattered, but prefers the brothers. He's the kind of guy you would hate if you didn't know him. He is very into his looks--- there is never a hair out of place; his facial hair is always trimmed to perfection. He wouldn't be caught dead without a fresh line-up. His eyes are chinky and his cheekbones are overly pronounced. His skin is the color of sandpaper and his smile is imperfect and a bit crooked yet infectious. Luxe is very conservative and is probably the only proud black Republican I know. He will be quick to tell you he did not vote for Barack Obama and offer a long-winded explanation if you inquired within.