My sex bunny friend Stanley is a lot of things.
Slutty, sex-hungry, sultry.
But a home wrecker he is not.
Until now.
But it's debatable, according to Stanley.
"Technically, I am not a home wrecker because, one, he is gay so he has gay immunity (whatever that means). Two, he and his partner are in an open relationship so he's not breaching any form of conjugal contract (whatever that means). And three, I'm not asking him to leave his partner for me," Stanley argued eloquently, an argument so convincing that it's considered the loss for Singapore's legal community, given his acute oral skills.
Stanley first told me and Carl our dense friend about P, someone whom he's seeing seriously.
And serious Stanley is.
Days after learning about his presence, Stanley wanted me to meet the love of his life. Carl the dense one would be left out for now so that P feels comfortable. And naturally, I'm on the top of Stanley's list.
I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing.
Instead of gathering at Stanley's, my gay best friend had chosen neutral ground for our meeting.
Turned out, it was not just neutral ground, but also fertile ground.
Being the trendy, pretentious type of gay Stanley was, he picked Open Farm Community at Dempsey for our Sunday brunch meeting.
A place that is famed for having tiny plots of farmland in its backyard where its owners practise a farm-to-table concept. A place where people go to see and be seen. Couples -- straight and gay -- would come dressed in their best dress-down attire, often armed with a dog to make some sort of social statement.
At 11:30am sharp, Stanley strolled into the restaurant with P.
I can see why Stanley is head over heels.
P is a towering figure, all of 1.8m tall.
And not just tall.
He's dark and handsome -- and suave.
P brightened the moment he saw me.
"I have heard so much about you," P said without sounding patronising.
"And Adam has heard of you just last week," Stanley chimed in. "And so I filled him in with quality substance about you."
P and I both looked at each other uncomfortably.
Luckily, we were saved by the Belle.
A svelte and pretty waitress came by and air-kissed P.
"The service charge here must be extremely high," Stanley said without missing a beat.
Said waitress turned to Stanley and let out a peal of hearty chuckles, opening her arms poised for a hug.
"Any friend of P's is a friend of mine," she said, then came over to me to give me equal loving treatment.
Apparently, P is indeed very prominent and well known.
As I glanced around the alfresco area of Open Farm Community, I noticed several patrons looking in our direction.
Is this the price to pay for hanging out with celebrity-types, I wondered to myself as I self-consciously adjusted my hair in some last-minute grooming attempt.
But P had no airs. He in fact makes you feel extremely comfortable -- both a strength and a weakness.
Though P was a regular there, he had made sure to not dominate the ordering, mindfully giving us space to choose our food and skilfully stepping in to guide us with what's good and what's not.
I stole a glance at Stanley who looked like he was brimming with pride and love for his thoughtful partner (can we call him that?), though I'm sure in Stanley's mind, he would insist P to be dominating -- away from the dining table, that is.
Finally, our bottle of white wine arrived, followed by a kale salad, fish and chips, bread with seasonal butter, burger and some pasta that's all meant for sharing.
I can see why Stanley is madly in love with P.
And I felt a mix of happiness and fear, along with hope and anxiety for Stanley.
But as my partner J had said, they are both consenting adults so instead of spending energy worrying about the future, why not embrace the moment.
Stanley is doing it right now: He would place his arm over P's shoulder, or give him a playful punch on his bicep, or lovingly caress his arm whenever he felt like it.
P seemed totally fine with the display of affection.
But not in a voyeuristic sort of way.
You know how you can tell if two men walking on the streets are an actual couple because of their mannerisms and proximity and comfort level with each other?
Right now, I'm getting a lot of those vibes. These two individuals -- one of whom is my gay best friend whose love life I worry about -- are obviously in that zone. They're comfortable with each other and can almost finish each other's sentences. A feat given that they'd only been together for slightly more than a fortnight.
Over brunch, I got to know P better.
And it's surreal because I have seen P in the limelight. Never before off screen. And boy, he is one charismatic character.
If not for P's complicated situation, I would have insisted Stanley to propose to him, get married in Bangkok and let me be the bridesmaid.
P is everything a man can wish for (gay and straight).
For the gay man, P is of course the perfect partner -- tall, dark, handsome (I said that already), eloquent, thoughtful, good-looking with a great bod (Stanley made sure he sold that point). And he's wealthy to boot.
For the straight man, P is easily a role model. Confident, charming, unassuming.
When P excused himself to use the restroom, Stanley immediately leaned in and said urgently "so how? what do you think?"
Truth be told, I love P.
I also love that Stanley is so happy with P.
And that's very, very dangerous.
For me.
I mean, if I allow myself to feel happy for the two of them who're obviously newly in love, am I also setting myself up for failure?
Double failure at that?
'Cos what would happen if I let myself be too comfortable with this love situation of theirs? Wouldn't that have double impact on me personally and as Stanley's pillar of support, when the break up eventually comes?
I know I will love having them around in my life -- as a couple. I know P makes Stanley very happy. And I know their feelings for each other are genuine.
But the logical part of me would stop myself from being unrealistic. To tell myself to wake up! He's a passing trend! He's not here to stay in your lives!
J would sometimes point out to me that I think too much.
Once, J said to me I'm the type of person who looks at the end result so much that I fail to enjoy the process.
It's like you enter a movie theatre but sit only on the edge of the seat knowing that the movie is going to last for 2 hours, so why get so comfortable when you know it's a short-lived experience he once said.
After brunch that day, I thought about these and slowly processed the emotions.
I realise I had put myself in the centre of it. Not Stanley's interest, or in this case, his love interest.
Just because I felt uneasy, insecure, and worried for their future doesn't mean Stanley didn't.
Knowing him, Stanley must have spent a lot of time going through these permutations, emotions, and uncertainty.
And that was when it hit me.
If I could feel this way as an outsider, how much worse must it be for Stanley?
And just like that, I decided to toss my feelings (and judgements) out the window, and be that gay best friend Stanley needs me to be.
The supportive type. The non-judgemental type. The type who would disagree vehemently with him but would still fiercely stand by him for his decisions.
And so, I decided to take a stand.
And my stand is right behind Stanley.
So that if he needs some prodding, I'm there to nudge him forward.
And so that if he falls, he has me to cushion the crash.
Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
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