This is a story about longing, fame, England and a Prom. This story takes place sometime in early June, 2006.
We stood there waiting for the Brits to arrive and film their documentary. I was nervous about my close-up. There was one boy in the group that I really wanted to dance with. I made a silent plea that I wouldn’t do something stupid.
As we stood there facing a cold wind and looking deadly, the limousine holding another camera crew and the people from England inched its way towards us. The director, a cameraman, and mentor—who would help them with logistics, once back in England—stood with us. They were all here filming a documentary for Channel 4 on the making of a Gay Prom.
Their intent was to fly over here to the Bay Area, film the meeting (which had been two days before the prom), discuss logistics, interview the core members of the Prom Planning Committee, attend the Prom, and then fly back to plan their own Gay Prom in London.
From eight to four, we’d been straightening tablecloths and sorting through moldy cherries. (Don’t ask.) Then we took a break for a few hours until we had to start the pre-prom crunch. I got back at seven to escort one of the Brits down the Red Carpet with forty-five minutes time to spare.
An hour later, we’re freezing. Then Samuel, our Minute Man, came running down the stairs to tell us, ”The British are coming!” Cameras focused, a crew ran alongside the Five as they headed towards the stairs. Ex-gay fanatics scurried around it all, hoping to get a pamphlet through the press.
They were supposed to stop, and we were supposed to greet them. But the plan was changed, our energy was low, so we followed them into the Gay Prom. Later, the cameramen and all of the handlers apologized for making us wait so long.
Walking down the red carpet is unbelievable. Try to imagine a twelve-piece band blaring to greet you and cheers are coming from supporters all around. Once you get your tickets, you stop in an anteroom. Chaperones line the halls, and information booths are immediately available. Raffle prizes and ballot boxes for King and Queen are at the end of the hallway. The music, barely whispering out in the parking lot, pounds through the hallways. As you walk closer and step through the tall red doors, you see people dancing on the stage, a big banner behind them reading “Gay Prom 2006”; the floor is packed. The dance hall is enormous. Lights are pulsing and fading from all over, in the rafters and on racks beside the DJ. The music is the latest, mixed by the greatest DJs in the Bay. But before it all are tables. It’s empty out here, next to the door, but they fill up towards the Floor. Walking through, you can’t help but notice all the smiling faces and scantily clad bodies.
There were so many different types of people there. Some of them were in tuxes. Some dressed like 20’s gangsters; my beautiful friend, Georgia, was wearing a flapper dress. Her handsome partner, Ashley, was dressed in a period pin-striped suit with a feather on her hat. In this crowd, Mohawks and piercings were the norm. So were tattoos and colored hair. But the gowns I saw were gorgeous, nonetheless.
Zak looked at the dance floor longingly. But we were already there too long; the group was leaving us behind. I took Zak’s hand and we ran to the Games Room. We showed our visitors around. Which states are gay-friendly? Test your knowledge of STDs.
Zac was acting fidgety the whole time. He said the cameras were starting to bother him. “I just want to go home,” he said. They had been filming for five whole days already. He said he just wanted to dance. I wanted to dance with him. I was scared of being turned down, though.
Theirs was the second camera crew to get past the doors of gay prom. (Ever since the press bought into the police’s crusade by profiling each person in the raids on gay bars leading up to Stonewall, we’ve been avid about protecting those in the closet from the media.) After the initial filming and picture taking was done, we all stood around looking at each other.
Laurel, who was average height—with beautiful long, blonde hair and blue eyes—was wearing a dazzling beige dress. Shauna’s suit was magnificent; it made me gasp. She’s a short, pretty girl who always smiles. Albert, The Treasurer, came in a fly tux, complete with black shoes that were so buffed out, I could see my reflection. Corwin, a dream of a boy, came in a more casual suit that fit him perfectly; he looked gorgeous. Zak, with dancing eyes and long brown hair, wore a more subtle suit, with black shoes.
Zak looked at me, cocky. He’d been acting cocky and suave all night. A little more than when I first met him, but I figured it was just his character. He said something quickly. It was probably “D’ya wanna have a dance?” But I didn’t catch the whole thing, so I said, “What?” It only occurred to me later that his cockiness was a coverup.
“Never mind,” he said, “you’d probably think it was stupid anyway.”
I didn’t have the cojones to pursue it. Albert fumbled with his money. I wondered about what Zak said; I wanted to dance with him so badly. They were talking about buying tickets for food and water. Zak went to the dance floor with Shauna. I stayed behind, with a pit in my stomach. Albert stayed as well, to wait for Laurel, who was in the loo. Corwin disappeared to somewhere, I don’t know where.
In the eye of the storm, I asked Albert what he thought of our party. He said he was amazed. We had about 600 people at the event. He didn’t think they could do that in London. Corwin came back and asked where everyone was, then Laurel. We walked to the coat check and the boys turned in their coats. I walked them all to the dance floor but took my leave when Albert asked, rather cheekily, if I’d be following them the whole time.
I browsed through all the cuties lining the benches. I got glances left and right. Those glances were really making my night and I was glad, then, that I’d come stag. I sat down and talked with Travis, my official ‘date’. (Labels are overrated.) He’s a good friend, though. Travis was chatting it up with some people we hadn’t seen in a year.
Laurel and Corwin were playing with a video camera to my left. “Is that for the documentary?” I asked. “No, it’s for us.” She trained the camera on me. “Smile for the camera,” Laurel told me. I don’t smile in photos. “Are you stoned?” she asked. “No, do I look stoned?” She said I did. “Guess I forgot to put in the Clear Eyes,” I joked.
Shauna showed up, followed by Zak. Everyone was smiling. Zak and I talked for a while about this and that. I still couldn’t say anything. Then he got pulled into another interview. I caught up with my ex-boyfriend, Brian. We still had awesome sex, on occasion, but it had been a while. We talked at the tables until one of my favorite songs came on, then I dragged him onto the dance floor.
I’m not a good dancer. I’ve always felt absurd trying to wiggle my ass. Zak was watching me from across the dance floor. I looked up and saw him dancing with someone I would have given my right arm to snag. Even though I was jealous, I grinned at him and continued the intimate grind session with Brian. But he was doing something afterwards, so I was still stag and bulgin’.
Figuring Zak found his man, I danced with some other guys I didn’t know. Some of them were cute. But they were barely descended. I didn’t want to go home with someone in the Group. I left and went to the smoking section, and settled into the idea of having a great night hanging out and dancing with my friends. Everyone else showed up after that, and we talked about the music, and the people. Tora and Shauna were getting really close to each other. Then the director came with Corwin and we all went to the dance floor.
I started out dancing with my friend Manny (who had been following me around the whole night), then moved on to Albert (with the home-style groove he was afraid to whip out in the US). I asked Albert, “So, how are you going to get the kids to come to your event? Go to the GSAs, or whatever you have there?” Albert replied, “Yeah, we could go to student organizations, but school’s almost out.” I nodded, “Youth groups, then.” The camera was our fourth wall and everyone was watching us. We were in a line, facing each other. Albert settled on spazzing with my friend, Manny. Laurel, Shauna and Corwin were all dancing together.
Zak and I gravitated towards each other. As I got more into the music, we got closer. He moved in for a kiss. The cameras were on us when we pulled back and I nuzzled into his cheek, digging on the vibe between us. Then we kissed with passion. My head spun and I stepped back. All around, hundreds of other gay teens danced to the throbbing beats; the mix-master was spinning Kelis’ ‘In Public’. Zak intoxicated me then.
He looked at me funny, “Something wrong?” “No,” I told him, “a little stoned.” He said he could tell, and we started some mild grinding. I tried to keep my lust in check while the cameras were on us, but he was looking so good I couldn’t help myself. We ground a little harder, and got a teeny bit freakier. Soon, they stopped recording and we were alone. I tried dancing more, but I couldn’t get into the music. I excused myself and walked outside.
A shirtless cowboy was showing off in the smoking section. I said ‘hi’ to them and sat down on a ledge. Zak showed up, followed by Laurel shortly afterward. I watched Shauna and Zak whisper with each other while I was telling Scott about what a great night it was. And we shared how much fun we were having.
Shauna walked up to us and told me, “My friend has a crush on you. But he’s really shy.” So he did want to dance with me! I asked if it was the guy on the bench and she told me, ‘Yeah, Zak’. I asked, “Why doesn’t he just come and talk to me?” I grinned at Zak and got up to meet him halfway. ’I’d love to comb this guy’s hair,’ I thought to myself. He had long, beautiful, brown hair. “So, do you want to go dancing?” he asked. I grabbed his hand and said, ”Sure.”
I was grinning like a fool all the way to the floor. I led the way to an open spot. Zak’s groove was the easiest to match; we were on the same wavelength. Until then, I was being self-conscious about my dancing, trying to restrain the urge to stomp a lot. (Something about drums.) But I just let go. I started dancing for real. Our eyes locked and we started dancing closer. This time we didn’t hold back.
The rest of the night was a blur. We spent it on the dance floor. He was pulled away from me a few times to go film something, but he came right back. Every time he came back our dance got more heated. We danced with abandon, kissing and grinding, until we were pretty much fucking.
Zak pushed me back and looked around suddenly, ’Where are the cameras?’ I thought. ‘They would almost certainly want to catch this.’ I looked, but I didn’t see any. Then we went back to our dance. Zak was hot and bothered enough to start grabbing my crotch. Dogging makes me nervous, though; I told him to cool down.
“You have your own room, right?” I asked.
He grinned. “Yeah.”
I smiled.
We decided to go somewhere quiet, and he started to lead towards the smoking section. But the cameras were probably there. I didn’t want them in my face again, and I knew Zak didn’t either; so I pulled him into the kitchen. It was deserted and the camera crews wouldn’t think to look there. It was perfect.
“Someone was following us,” Zak told me, “I think it was a security guard.” I poked my head around the corner and there he was. I almost pulled out my badge when he told us we weren’t supposed to be there. I told him we wouldn’t mess with any equipment, and he reiterated his point, though a little more sympathetically. I turned to Zak and shrugged. He looked more frustrated than ever. I could relate. My dick felt like it would fall off if the blood didn’t go back to my brain soon.
“Okay,” I told the guard, “we’ll leave.”
The security guard turned to walk away, then turned back. “You really shouldn’t be here. But, you guys got two minutes.”
After he left, Zak threw me against the wall and shoved his tongue in my mouth. His ass was firm in my hands. He ground against me and raised my arms above my head. I let him unzip me and get a feel. My head was spinning; he was making me feel so good. I wanted to do it right there. But he stopped. “We should probably leave now.” I took him through a side door back into the hall. No one noticed us.
We continued dancing, but after our brief feel in the kitchen, we never went back to that other stuff. A few minutes after we returned, I noticed a light that wasn’t part of the normal array casting our shadow on the people dancing next to us. “Is that a camera next to us?” I asked. Zak confirmed that it was and I looked at it as we danced. Prom-goers had cleared space enough to allow the cameraman from the limousine to get a medium shot of us grinding. I gave the camera the ‘go away’ look, but he stayed there.
Feeling frustrated, I was trying to be cool around the camera. Not be a real freak, you know? This would be on television, after all. But I decided, right then, fuck it. Who cares? I was having too much fun with this guy to let a nosey camera mess it up. Laurel came with another girl and we freaked together for a while. Then it was just us again. The camera was on us for a long time. Then the cameraman left.
The Director appeared to collect Zak.
When Zak came back, he pulled me to the dance floor. I was eager to put my body against his again and enjoy the music. Things had heated up on the dance floor. This time, we weren’t the only lewd dancers. Once the crew spotted us, they gathered ‘round like flies. We were going at it for real, then. We were pulling the kind of moves that would make a normal prom chaperone want to beat us with the flashlight.
“Am I going home with you tonight?” I asked him.
He grinned, “I hope so.”
Then we kissed on it.
The director came again.
I was talking to an old friend when he walked up with a coy grin. “I had to ask them permission for you to spend the night.” I asked, “What did they say?” “I dunno,” he replied, “they haven’t told me yet.” I laughed. For some reason, I knew it wasn’t likely I’d be spending the night with him, or they would have said it right away. The crew was tittering around. The cameraman who was with us from the beginning looked stressed. But that didn’t matter. I dragged him to the dance this time, and we were reckless.
The house lights turned on. I thought it was maybe ‘cause we were getting too heated. And those camera lights only exposed us more. They were still on us. I tried to ask Zak something, but he was bothered by the third wheel. So he pulled me away.
“How old are you?” I asked him.
“Seventeen,” he replied. I freaked out.
“It’s okay.”
“But it’s 18 in the states . . . .” Then I remembered in California the age gap is 2-3 years (within reason.), and I got over it.
The director came back. She looked at both of us for a second, then something passed over her eyes. “There’s going to be an announcement in five minutes,” she said, “and you need to be on stage then.” I knew it then.
“Okay,” I said.
But Zak didn’t want to leave. I told him to go film.
When Zak came back, he told me they’d said no. I was disappointed, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
The Director came back, “Okay, c’mon!” Zak walked off to the pre-stage meeting. I got angry then. I thought to myself, ‘they used me’, but I let them, in the end. I wondered if they were able to catch our conversations on audio. What I was feeling was nothing compared to what came next. While I was busy being bummed out, I got more bad news. Manny walked up to me and told me our friend, Alex, had been dosed with E and was going to the hospital. No joke. The news hit me hard.
After the meeting, Zak came back. “What’s wrong?” he asked me. I told him. When my friend left, Zak told me to take care of what I had to.
The announcements began. I put on my happy face and joined the stage as a Youth involved in the Documentary. Then it was over. People started going home. The Prom coordinator asked me to find out who rode with Alex. I was scared for Alex and I was trying to wrack my head about who he was with. But I couldn’t come up with anything, and no one else knew.
Then Zak came back. “We could swing it,” he said, “take a taxi to Phoenix together. How about it?” I was as shocked as you probably are. “What?” I sputtered, “I can’t.” I wanted to. “Why not?” He asked me. Part of me felt like he’d just asked me to get hitched in Vegas. Phoenix?! How would we get the money? I believe if I said yes, we would have gotten to Phoenix. Getting back, besides the suddenness, is what tripped me up.
“I just . . .” I couldn’t explain to him all of the reasons why I couldn’t go. All of the things I had to do. Plus, he was filming a documentary and, at the end of the day, he would be leaving with them. So I said, “No,” instead, and prayed that he understood what I was trying to communicate through inflection. He looked disappointed; and so was I. I wanted to.
That’s when things started getting mixed up. I asked around and came back to the coordinator. She wanted to know how it was going. I told her I thought I should forget about finding who Alex came with. Dealing with the Alex situation was . . . too much. She thought I was talking about Zak. So she replied with something to the effect of, “That’s probably best.” [Sigh.]
I left the building and sat on the stairs outside the main entrance. I thought about calling someone. I thought about asking Zak if he’d really said “Phoenix”. I thought about just leaving. I wondered if Zak would come out and talk to me. I wondered if I would get in trouble for the kitchen. I wondered if those scenes would make the cut. I wondered how Alex was.
I fought the urge to be grumpy; I just needed someone to talk to. I talked to Tory for a while, about everything that happened, while he was waiting for his Nana to pick him up. He told me not be upset. But strangely, after I’d said my peace, I wasn’t. Half the camera crew walked past me and I wished them a good night.
I walked back to the top of the steps after Tory left. All the kids from the Group were at the bottom of the stairs talking. The rest of the Brits came out and split by youth and camera groups. Zak and I had a last, longing look at each other and I said goodbye to all my friends, hopped in my car and took the drive back to Alameda.
Anti-climactic, I know.
But, as I drove away, I decided that was the best Gay Prom I’d ever been to. And so what if I didn’t pull Zak? I would have. I could have. At least we didn’t leave feeling disappointed because we didn’t dance with whom we wanted. And maybe it’s better we didn’t do it. But we went for it. That was one of the greatest nights of my life. I danced my ass off and had lots of fun. That’s what a Gay Prom is all about. I’ll never forget ’06.