Late December, 1978~ A Falsettos Fanfiction

My Eyes Adored You

Marvin knows there's something missing from his successful façade of a life; but he has it all, and everyone knows it, so what is it? This keeps him up at night, just wondering what he needs when he has what anyone would want- anyone in New York, the city of broken dreams, sleepless nights, and people yet to be discovered.

He has the money, the looks, the pretty housewife who'll listen to anything he says, the gifted fourth grade student who makes all A's without even trying, the big apartment in Brooklyn Heights.

Maybe it's his fashion sense. Even his own son tells him he needs new clothes.

Or maybe it's his wife. Maybe he's tired of her. Maybe he just needs a break from their 'make-me-dinner-but-don't-have-sex-with-me-please', relationship. He's only with her because he knocked her up one night, and their families couldn't let their reputation be ruined.

Maybe it really is his wife.

So that's why he's out here, in the Greenwich Village, at some gay bar he's never heard of before.

It's nice here, despite the cockroaches that linger in the corners and on the walls of this old building. They're playing My Eyes Adored You by Franki Valli and the Four Seasons. There's a faint sound of moaning coming from the dreaded dance floor, but he'll try to block that out. 

The vibes of this bar seem right. They seem like the kind of drive he's been longing for- No, needing, ever since he married Trina and lived this fake life for so many years.

Marvin takes a swig of his whiskey and sees someone so pretty walk loosely down the aisle, just looking like an actual godsend.

He looks like he just walked out of a fashion magazine, what with his mint green button up and bouncy hair. Marvin can see his toned body, as his brown pants are so tight he can see almost every curve on his long legs.

This man looks like he could hurt someone with his looks.

And then he's gone, like some kind of mirage. He disappears into a booth that has a lesbian couple in it, and he can hear him talk to them with the silkiest voice he's ever heard.

Now they're playing Make it With You by Bread. Marvin hears clapping from the crowd, and guesses they just like the artist. He's never heard this song before.

After five minutes of the incredibly pretty man talking to his friends, he whips around and sees Marvin glance his way. He smirks, and much to Marvin's surprise, sits across from him. "Hey," he says cooly.

"Uh, hi?" Marvin doesn't quite know what to say back. He hadn't expected this man to randomly talk to him, but maybe it wouldn't be too awkward.

"You live here? Don't tell me- You're a closet queen, aren't you?" The man's words make Marvin feel weird. Is it because he knows it's true, or because he guessed so accurately?

He feels his cheeks redden, and says, "I have a wife, and a son,"

"Ah. You must live in Brooklyn. Wait, no, Manhattan? Oh, you'll love my next guess! Queens." He smiles like he knows he just set him off, and if I'm being honest here, he did.

"No! I live... I live in Brooklyn." Marvin's voice falters in some sort of shame.

"Oh, as expected. I live here in the Village. It's just a veil for all the gays in New York, it's our safe space."

"Can you not say that?"

The man rolls his eyes, then lets out a heavy laugh. "What? Did I make the closeted gay dad a little upset?" He laughs again, and stands up from his chair.

"No! Just... Okay, fine."

"Hm, you'll be okay, honey. I get that not all queens live in the Village. Anyways, I gotta take a leak, maybe you can walk it off while I'm gone." He's already walking away, the smell of incense and patchouli floating around him.

Marvin hears the door swing open and shut. He hears the song Lotta Love by Nicolette Larson blast so loudly that he can't even hear the couple standing up against the wall's conversation from behind.

Not that he wants to. Though they're probably talking about their relationship, Marvin turns to look. One of the men puts his thin waist on the other's stomach, but the other pulls away. He says something to him, something Marvin can't hear. The skinnier, shorter man, looks as if he's crying and plops down into an empty booth, crying. The taller man just walks away.

Great job, sir.

Pushing that scene to the back of his loaded mind, he begins to think about whoever that man is that really has a hold on Marvin.

Though he's very ill humored, and a little on the over sharing side, there's a sense of charm to the man. He's not annoying, and he definitely isn't a bother, he just falls into a more snarky category.

But what did Marvin expect? That's what's expected of people different from a person, when that person only knows one circle of people who aren't very different from each other and decides to leave their bubble of protection.

He sips the last of his whiskey and waits for the man to return from the bathroom, examining the couples on the dance floor. They all seem so happy, and much more satisfied then Marvin ever was with Trina.

But maybe he does love Trina, and he only wants to feel special by-

Nope, no way. No fucking way. There's no way a middle aged man who's bored with his life goes all the way to going to a gay bar and doing things with another man that he should not be doing at all. He has a wife and a child, he's been straight all along.

And that just goes on and on with all these irrational and unreasonable thoughts, doesn't it?

He hears another song he's never heard of before play. Year of the Cat by Al Stewart, is what it would be if he wasn't so behind on 70s music. Half the crowd is singing along to it, and it makes Marvin feel so left out.

But it is a good song, really.

I mean, he generally hates Al Stewart's voice, but the music that plays for almost the whole six minutes and twenty seconds of the song is actually really good.

But, wait. It sounds like a song about a prostitute... oh shit.

Marvin doesn't like it anymore. It reminds him too much of the men and women in this gay bar.

"Hey, square tie," It's the brunette from earlier, his voice a little shaky, but all around happy. "This song makes me swoon," he giggles. "And his voice is so hot." He pulls Marvin out of his chair and nearly drags him out to the dance floor.

He wraps his hands around Marvin's waist, clearly pleased by his reaction. "Stop!" Marvin shouts, his own laughter dominating his anger.

"Nope! Not until you accept your flaming homosexuality!"

"Excuse me...?"

"You heard me right!" He sways back and forth, but then the song ends. His brows furrow and he rolls his eyes. "Well, shit, you just wasted my time."

"You're the one who went to the bathroom. How is this my fault?"

"Fair enough. They're playing fucking Wildfire now. I may be from Nebraska,  but we don't need people crying right now. The song takes place in Nebraska, by the way. That's why I mentioned it. Anyway, let's just talk."

So they sit back down and talk.

And talk for a very long time.

About their jobs, their hometowns, their friends. Soon the tall man's friends from earlier wave him goodbye, and so does the majority of the people at the bar. "It's getting late, and you need experience. Wanna come to my apartment? I mean, it's shitty, but-"

Without thinking, Marvin says a shaky, "Of course I will," and smiles.

There's a feeling deep down inside of him that tells him it'll either end with a burning desire for more, or a memory he wishes could be erased from his mind forever when they intertwine hands and walk a couple blocks down from the bar.