Candidate: Christopher aka Uber Stylist
Vital Stats: Male, 23/24, likes Sylvia Plath, dislikes Ayn Rand, has lip piercing, homosexual, dating good friend Damien, Gemini
Chemistry Factor: High
Damien has been dating Chris for a while now. I think about two or three months, if not more. I've seen Chris around, he's a regular at the fashion party circuit, darling of the models, who seem to be constantly touching him, in the manner that models do, and he seemed like a smile-y sort of person, just not my type, I decided then, because he WAS involved in the fashion world after all, something that was completely alien to me.
Chris is a bit of an eccentric dresser as well. I loved his sense of style, the well-cut blazers, the fitted sweaters, the long scarves looped just so. And then there's his hair, formed into a mohawk. And his wide, slightly shy smile, and of course, the silver ring that runs through the fullest part of his lower lip.
Anyway, so he's dating Damien, whom I love, in the way it is only possible to love someone you see occassionally, or have drunken dinner with, but not someone you talk to every day or hang out with twice or thrice a week. We have a mutual appreciation thing going, Damien and I, where we hair-tousle and kid each other and do little take-off performances for each other and applaud loudly for each other's successes. He has not seen me annoyed or annoying, or weepy or first thing in the morning and vice versa.
Chris used to live with this girl but she moved out and now he wants a place to live that doesn't involve security downpayments and brokers and all that jazz. We have a ready-made flat, with the maid and dhobhi and all already taken care of, and I could see he was sold from the moment he walked in and took note of the hanging lamps in the drawing room and the orange kitchen, looking its best, because the maid had come in after a WEEK and cleaned up, and my room, which would be his room, looking cozy and lived in and cupboard-full.
Small came home later, with her dog Leah, who she was babysitting and because Damien and I were busy helping ourselves to dinner in the kitchen, Chris very naturally opened the door and soon we were sitting around the drawing room and just talking like we had been living together for years. "We should get a cat," he said, and I grinned and said, "Yay!" and Small rolled her eyes. Damien was the only one who noted that first 'we' and the consequent 'we's' after that. We told him our house rules, we promised it wouldn't take him more than fifteen minutes to get to work in the morning, by auto and we also promised the men in the construction site downstairs wouldn't stare at him, something he faced on a regular basis. Small and I, being women in this city, have gotten used to the stares, the songs sung behind our backs, the accidental-on-purpose brushing past, and we ignore it, or if we're feeling aggressive, we match stare for stare. But it's different with men, because Chris told us, instead of backing down when he stares back, they get incensed and more aggressive than before. It's a sad world we live in.
And after they left, Small and I did a little war whoop and decided we wanted to adopt him and add him to our family. Let's hope he says yes!