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“Can we talk privately?” “Sure,” I say.

I sashay toward the smoking area and he follows.

It’s not so private but at least we can hear each other here.

“So, what’s up?” I ask casually.

“What’s all this?” Jack points at me.

“My brother said you were performing tonight but I thought it would be poetry, like when we first met.

I didn’t know it was going to be a gay night and you’d be dressed like a girl.

I just don’t get this, Mike; you’re a talented writer, you don’t need to do all this, it’s just so embarrassingly extra.

Why can’t you just be a man?” And he’s shouting at me now.

“Why do you have to hide behind a costume like this?” And I don’t know if he’s talking to me or himself.

“You look ridiculous, Mike, I’m embarrassed for you.” And the whole smoking area is looking at us and I don’t know if I should say what I truly want to say to him right now.

Fight or flight? I scream: “You’re embarrassed for me ? I don’t need to be a man for you or anyone else.

I don’t perform for you or anyone else.

What I wear is for me.

What I perform is for me.

What I write is for me.

I’m my own man and you’re a frightened little boy.

Who are you to come here and shout at me? We slept together once, Jack.

You don’t know me.

You don’t know my story and I don’t know yours, but right now I don’t want to.

If this is who you are, Jack, I don’t want to know you anymore.

I was so excited to see you here tonight to support me.

I thought we could be friends or at least get some closure.

Well, this sure is some closure .

You know what? I’m embarrassed, too.

Embarrassed I lost my virginity to you.

What a waste.

What a shame.

But you know what? Whatever!” And this is most of our audience in the smoking area.

They saw my performance earlier and this , this is like an encore for them.

They all start to clap and cheer even louder than before.

I turn and take a bow and when I turn back there’s no sign of Jack.