If Male Models Were Show Dogs

Excerpt from my book: Elements (WIP). You met Sarah in the post Title of the Day. Now, let me introduce you to Drake, the brother of Sarah’s good friend Catherine.

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If male models were show dogs in a former life, Drake was once an Irish Setter — elegant, edgy — a bit crazy. He lit up the runway with his blond hair whipping his face and hips twisting as if he was riding a wave on his surfboard. His face was flawless and smooth with delicate curves perfectly proportioned. His best features were his cheekbones and the curve of his thigh. He got into modeling because he wanted to travel the world. Besides all the time in Milan and Paris, his first love was the exotic. He lived with the Berber tribes in Morocco, did a photo shoot with the Sarawak headhunters in Borneo, and danced in the Diablada in Ecuador.

By the early eighties, the evolution from wholesome good-boy looks to hypersexualized mystery man had transformed the modeling scene. Meanwhile, Drake made his own transition and came out as gay — to the surprise of no one, not even his parents. It was around that time that Drake adopted a more flamboyant style on the runway, and it wasn’t long before his wild catwalk antics, which included spontaneous jumping and spinning, began to annoy the designers one too many times. They claimed it distracted from the clothes, but rumors persisted that Drake’s fall from grace went beyond the hijinks. He started unsettling people with his stories about the lizard people, and one day, his agent stopped returning his calls.

This led to a dispute with the agency, but Drake was already contemplating starting a computer gaming company. Remarkably intelligent from a young age, even graduating years ahead of his peers from every educational institution, it still seemed like an unusual choice to all his friends and family. Except Sarah.

Sarah met Drake during a technology workshop at Stanford. By that time, Drake was already immersed in advanced computing architecture and was an early member of the ACE consortium. He worked as a consultant for Silicon Graphics, 3dfx, and a few inventors still in the creation phase, all of whom claimed to be revolutionizing the world of computer gaming in various ways.

Back then, Drake was a refreshing contrast to the players of Silicon Valley who were solely obsessed with securing funding and being the first to market with new products. They all had egos the size of the Golden Gate Bridge and were perpetually distracted by every new idea.

Drake’s sexuality was a welcome island of peace for Sarah, but his beautiful face and body was a distraction that came with complications for him.

Sarah’s Journal entry from 1992

Drake and I attempted sex last night after a lot of martinis after that tech symposium at Stanford. I tried to look interested in the conversation, but I drank a bit too much in the process of drowning out what Drake and the guys (yes, ALL guys! Not one female nerd in the bunch unless you throw me in the mix) considered an exhilarating evening of conversation about the DEC 64-bit RISC, open source, and cultural consumption among Drake’s colleagues.

The whole thing seemed to have an aphrodisiac-like effect on him. When we got back to his house, he grabbed me and started kissing me with very wet, wide-mouthed kisses. I might have suggested that we stop, but I quickly thought, “What the hell?” The attempt dissolved quickly, and we ended up falling onto the floor laughing. He couldn’t get hard, and I recall joking about it — which does not go over well with men of any gender. They simply cannot take a joke about their dicks. Nevertheless, we made up quickly. We put on robes and went to the kitchen, where Drake made pancakes at 3 A.M. and shared his latest theories about his lizard people (apparently, they’re not really lizards).