Taj flipped idly through his mail. He didn’t know why he bothered; fan mail sent through the postal service was becoming less and less, and nothing else of any great import ever was present in these large stacks of letters. Then, a light pink envelope caught his eye. Usually that color signified the fan mail of a girl with a hopeless crush on him – the kind of letter he liked to read.
The front was unmarked. It must have been placed in his mailbox in person. Opening it, he found not a confession of love, but an invitation:
“You are invited to join in the celebration of the union of Mike Dunleavy and Caroline the Cheerleader on the evening of February 1.”
Letting the invite fall to the floor, Taj put his head in his hands. Caroline. He could never have her now. Before, when Mike was courting her, there was still a chance that she would see Mike for the scumbag he truly was, and run back into the loving embrace of the man who would protect her always. Now, they were to be married, and they would remain that way until Taj’s death.
He would go to the wedding, if only to allow his eyes one final, grieving glance at the woman he loved more than anyone else could. After that, he did not know how his existence would continue.
—————————————————–
Taj showed up at the reception late, trying to sneak in undetected. He had not bothered to go the wedding itself, knowing that his urge to smash Mike’s face with a fist and abduct Caroline to places far away would be too powerful to overcome.
Thankfully, neither Mike nor his new wife noticed his arrival, despite his immense height compared to the other guests. Picking a table in the corner, he gazed longingly at the table in front, where Caroline was laughing at some anecdote Mike was telling her. She was so stunning in that virginal white dress, so pure; but Taj knew better than to think that she was unsullied by the male touch. He filled with rage as he remembered how Mike had called him while engaged in the very act of coitus with Caroline, only for the sounds of their love to be carried over the airwaves to his ears. How he dearly wished to be in Mike’s place that day.
Some guests tried to make conversation with him, but when it was obvious that Taj’s attention was elsewhere, they were quick to disengage themselves. Drunk on free beer, Taj was in no condition to make coherent small talk anyway. He put his head down on the table and waited for the toasts.
—————————————————–
Carlos Boozer was relating some personal story to the rapt listeners in the banquet hall. Taj wondered why he hadn’t been invited to make a toast. Carlos was not an eloquent speaker, whereas Mike and Caroline knew firsthand how well-spoken Taj was.
Then, Mike wanted to say some words.
“There’s one man who I need to thank for the enduring success of my and Caroline’s relationship. I consider him a great friend and a great teammate. I am talking about Taj Gibson. I know you’re over there, Taj! Stand up and let everybody look at you!”
Taj awkwardly stood up and waved, putting on a forced smile. He tried not to sway or stumble as everybody looked in his direction.
“Taj there is real nice guy. Kinda ugly, as you can see, but he has a heart of gold and a hand capable of some beautiful writing. Several months ago, Taj presented Caroline with some poems of his own composition in order to win her heart. As you can see, that didn’t work out so well!”
The entire hall laughed. Taj tried to play it off as a joke, shaking his head playfully.
“It was Taj’s antics that made Caroline realize that what she desired was not a nice guy who would shower her with love an affection, but rather, a bad boy like myself who would ignore her opinion and regularly sleep with other women.” Caroline made doe-eyes at Mike as he continued, “I once wrote a poem for Taj in which I detailed the ways in which I defiled Caroline’s face with my man sauce. That was the first and last poem I will ever write. But I want Taj to know that no woman would ever desire such a sniveling, pathetic wimp as himself. Women do not want books of poetry, nor bouquets of flowers. They want to be mistreated and abused. Thank you.”
There was a chorus of applause. Blinded by a haze of shame, Taj exited through a side door and collapsed on the cold grass outside. Staring at the cloudy winter sky, he contemplated his failures as a man. Of course Caroline would never like him! He had entirely miscalculated what a gorgeous woman such as her would be looking for.
Picking himself up off the ground, Taj made a resolution. No more poems. No more boxes of chocolates. He would be crude, he would be impolite, and he would have his way with as many women as he could find. With his money and fame, it would be easy to bed two or three girls every single night. A new dawn of sexual conquest was rising in the east. And he would conquer it.