Body Switches

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "How old are you?" Rohit asked, curious.

  "I'll be fifty in four months."

  Rohit was impressed. He thought he couldn't change his life at forty, and here was someone almost ten years older who was planning a major change. How did Kyle set his new goals and what was he doing to achieve them?

  The discussion proved fascinating as they ate a pizza in Piazza del Popolo. Rohit started having ideas for his own future, but dutifully followed Kyle to the film festival for the afternoon.

  After dinner, they split and Rohit went to bed less obsessed with his pain. He was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but he needed to figure out what he really wanted. Not fame. Not the movie industry. Just because he was born in Bollywood, didn't mean he must follow in his family's footsteps.

  He'd always been a good boy, trying to please everyone, obediently following his elders' wisdom, but he'd felt good only when he danced. The rest was a struggle that had made critics call him a wooden actor. He couldn't sing well either – he could act with his body, but if he had to open his mouth, he was a disaster. Nobody ever considered giving him the part of a mute or a mime, so here he was, sick of the whole acting life, wondering what he should do with himself.

  He fell asleep, imagining being someone else and trying to figure out how to write that story.

  In the morning he asked the concierge where the Indian Embassy was, to make sure he had a valid visa for the US before following Kyle, and was delighted to discover it was a ten minute walk from the hotel.

  So he passed in front of the American Embassy and headed for the Indian one, glad it was another warm October day. He created some sensation at the Embassy and hoped it would be the last time he'd be asked for autographs and pictures. He wasn't missing his fans. All looked very concerned for his health, and he almost ran away to avoid more questions, gifts and requests.

  He continued down Via XX Settembre, turned on Via Quattro Fontane and reached Via Nazionale, slowly heading back towards Via Veneto, musing and window shopping. He found a couple of bookstores with English books, so he bought something to read – and a beautiful notebook, where he planned to start writing.

  He sat for lunch at the Café de Paris, jotting down thoughts and ideas on the brand new notebook. Kyle found him there in the late afternoon, and they started comparing notes.

  They moved to Rohit's room to use the hotel's Wi-Fi on Kyle's Netbook, making plans for a novel together – and booking Rohit's flight to LA.

  They dined out, still discussing the common project, then split for the night. The following afternoon they'd board a flight to LA.

  2. The City of Angels

  Kyle spent most of the thirteen hours direct flight to LA watching Rohit sleep by his side. In a couple of days he'd managed to gain his trust and Rohit had started opening up a little.

  Kyle wasn't expecting such a shy and introverted person who had dutifully followed other people's advice for all of his life. Which had obviously destroyed him – constantly trying to please everyone – but he'd survived the attempted suicide and now seemed ready to cut all those ties that had kept him bound for so long.

  And now Rohit seemed determined to live his new life on his own. Of course he wasn't completely independent yet, so he leaned on Kyle a lot during the first week in LA, and not only because he slept on his couch. Rohit was like a child who'd been given sudden freedom and wasn't sure of what he could or couldn't do. His psychological dependence on others meant he wasn't really used to thinking for himself. Kyle helped him to boost his self-confidence, gave him back his self-esteem and watched him blossom into a creative person full of wild ideas.

  They started writing a novel together, and although Rohit's input was mostly verbal – his English was excellent, but not his mother tongue – he brought things to the table Kyle would have never thought of.

  And then they talked, hung out with Kyle's few friends, and got to know each other better. Rohit admitted he'd been heartbroken when his beloved wife told him she'd had enough, and he'd done stupid things as a consequence.

  "I think the breakdown was already in the works," Kyle said as they sat on his couch one morning after lunch. "You're too compliant. You're too good. You always want to please everyone. But who is trying to please you?"

  "Mm..." Rohit pondered, staring in the distance. "Nobody. I mean, they love me, but..."

  "Of course they love you. Of course your parents would want the best for you, but what they think is the best, might not be what you really need."

  "Probably not." Rohit sighed and looked at him. "Did you ever fall in love with the wrong person?"

  "Once or twice." Kyle smiled. "I had a girlfriend. She gave me a stillborn baby. We couldn't keep the relationship going afterward."

  "Did you ever get married?" Rohit asked, eyes wide in wonder.

  "No. I guess I'm not the marrying type. I've had relationships, but they never lasted. I'll end up a grumpy old man like Scrooge," he joked.

  "No!" Rohit shook his head vehemently. "I think you're very nice and sweet and protective... You deserve a family!"

  "Maybe I don't want one," he replied. "I don't know, I guess it's complicated," he added, noticing Rohit's shock. Rohit had just left his family of origin and was obviously still very attached to it.

  Kyle tried to explain his point of view: his parents divorced in his teens, and then he'd moved around with his mother, landing in LA where she had hoped to break into Hollywood – and how by twenty he was totally independent from his family, attending UCLA and working odd jobs to pay the rent.

  It would probably take Rohit months, maybe years to free himself from the psychological bonds with his family, but his breakdown had severed a lot of ties already. He needed to find his ground, and Kyle knew he could do it.

  Kyle didn't mind playing the father or the elder brother, except the more he got to know Rohit, the more he felt something very physical stir inside him. Rohit was good-looking and when he took down his defenses, he became utterly charming – albeit unknowingly.

  Kyle hadn't felt like this in years. He'd felt physical attraction for both men and women in the past – is sexuality was very fluid – but he didn't want to scare Rohit away with his growing lust. So he kept it carefully hidden as they trudged through the first draft of their novel.

  ***

  Rohit spent his first Diwali away from India, typing his first NaNoWriMo novel on his brand new laptop. He called his family on Skype and told them once more he didn't know when he'd be back, and then hammered away on the keyboard, wishing to surprise Kyle with his fifty thousand words.

  Not that he thought that anything good would come out of it, but pouring out words as they came to him felt good. He'd probably have to throw away or rewrite most of them, but he didn't care.

  By Thanksgiving, he was done. He copied the document in the shared folder on Dropbox and shyly asked Kyle to have a look at it.

  "You completed NaNoWriMo?" Kyle asked, surprised. "And did you reread it?"

  "No, I don't have the courage," he answered, eyes low. "I'm afraid it's all crap. Can you check for me?"

  "Sure." Kyle grinned and printed out the file. "If you check our first draft while I read yours."

  "Theek hai." Rohit waited for the second print out and nestled on the couch to read. At least he'd be busy while Kyle checked his NaNoWriMo effort.

  He was so engrossed in the story, he didn't realize Kyle was done and staring at him.

  "This is so cool!" Rohit exclaimed, looking up from the manuscript. "I think we can find a publisher! But we haven't decided a pen name yet."

  "How about Rohit Kyle?" Kyle suggested, amused.

  "Nah. R.K. Hopes?"

  Kyle chuckled. "Why not? What about your pseudonym, have you come up with one?"

  Rohit blushed, remembering his NaNoWriMo manuscript. He glanced at the sheets in Kyle's lap, worried.

  "Is it any good?" he asked, feeling his heart beating faster.

  Kyle nodded
with a grin. "I think it has potential."

  "Really?" Rohit brightened.

  "Yeah." Kyle passed him the manuscript. "Check it out."

  Rohit gave him the co-written manuscript and plunged into his own story, curious to discover what he'd done.

  ***

  When they both finished their manuscript and sent out the co-written novel to beta-readers, Kyle and Rohit decided to go out and celebrate. Rohit hadn't looked interested in the nightlife so far, but Kyle decided to give him a taste of LA by night.

  Rohit loved to dance, and he was a pleasure to behold. They went back home at dawn and both crashed on the couch, still laughing at their night out.

  "Thank you," Rohit said, his eyes shining with happiness.

  Kyle's eyes fell on the scarred wrist. The bandages were gone, and Rohit's attempted suicide was now in plain sight.

  "You're welcome," Kyle whispered, taking Rohit's hand and putting it to his lips.

  Rohit was healing.

  Kyle's lips brushed the scars and kept going up the wrist.

  "Kyle..." Rohit was shoulder to shoulder with him, but didn't move away.

  Kyle inhaled his scent and looked him in the eyes.

  "Yes?" His voice was hoarse.

  "What are you doing?"

  So much trust... Kyle's fingers were still entwined with Rohit's. Kyle's other hand glided on Rohit's neck and he pulled him closer to taste him. He felt Rohit stiffen, then relax and return the kiss.

  Rohit gasped for breath and pulled away with his lips still wet.

  "What did you do that for?" Not angry, just curious.

  "I'm sorry." Kyle cleared his throat, but his voice stayed husky. "I shouldn't have..." He squeezed Rohit's fingers. "Sorry, I guess I lost control."

  "I thought you had girlfriends," Rohit insisted.

  "I've had both. Girlfriends, boyfriends... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

  Rohit smiled sleepily. "It's okay. You took me by surprise, that's all."

  "You're not mad at me?" Kyle asked, relieved. Not that Rohit had tried to slap him or even free his fingers from his grasp...

  "No." Rohit smiled. "You've been so kind to me, I'll be eternally grateful."

  "Even if I revealed my real feelings and my lust?"

  Rohit chuckled. "I never had a man coming at me like you did. But plenty of women, yes."

  "I can imagine." Kyle briefly kissed the scarred wrist again. "So?"

  "Sooo..." Rohit leaned forward and brushed Kyle's lips with his. "What's next?"

  Kyle grinned before embracing him and covering him with butterfly kisses.

  ***

  Rohit woke up naked in Kyle's bed. He opened his eyes and saw Kyle staring at him.

  "What are you looking at?" He blushed.

  "You." Kyle smiled. "You're beautiful even when you sleep."

  "No, I'm not..." Rohit moaned, feeling the stubble on his face.

  Kyle's arms wrapped him.

  "Yes you are." Kyle's kiss landed on his hair as he nestled against him. "You slept like a baby."

  "Which doesn't mean that I don't remember what happened," Rohit warned. "I was tired, but not drunk."

  Kyle chuckled and squeezed him. "And did you enjoy it?"

  "Yes." Rohit squeezed back, pressing his body against Kyle's. It was a new sensation, but it felt good. Kyle had worshiped his body and he felt the need to return the favor. "You gave me much pleasure."

  "I don't know why anyone would want to hurt you," Kyle replied. "You're the sweetest being I've ever met."

  "Thank you." Rohit kissed Kyle's throat.

  "No, thank you for allowing me to love you," Kyle whispered in his ear.

  Rohit wanted to laugh out loud. He'd never felt so happy in his entire life.

  ***

  About the author

  Barbara G.Tarn is a prolific writer who writes whatever comes to her mind. At the dawn of indie publishing (2011), the old paradigm of "different genre, different pen name" still stood. Not anymore.

  Formerly published under B.G. Hope, these are the contemporary titles of Barbara G.Tarn, a writer, sometimes artist, mostly a world-creator and story-teller. She's been building her world of Silvery Earth for a number of years - stories, comprise shorts, novels and graphic novels.

  Her novella "The Hooded Man" has received an Honorable Mention at the Writers of the Future contest. Used to multiple projects (a graphic novel is always on the side of the prose), she writes, draws, ignores her day job and blogs at: http://creativebarbwire.wordpress.com

  e-mail: creativebarbwire@gmail.com

  Silvery Earth Chronology

  Star Minds (science fantasy)

  For more info on other titles of Unicorn Productions, go to http://www.unicornproductionsbooks.com/

  About the Author

  Barbara G.Tarn had an intense life in the Middle Ages that stuck to her through the centuries. She prefers swords to guns, long gowns to mini-skirts, and even though she buried the warrior woman, she deplores the death of knights in shining chainmail. She likes to think her condo apartment is a medieval castle, unfortunately lacking a dungeon to throw noisy neighbors and naughty colleagues in.

  Also known as the Lady with the Unicorns, these days she prefers to add a touch of fantasy to all her stories, past and present – when she’s not wandering on her fantasy world of Silvery Earth or in her Star Minds futuristic universe. She dabbles into historical fantasy with her Vampires Through the Centuries series and has started post-apocalyptic/steampunk series called Future Earth Chronicles.

  She’s a writer, sometimes artist, mostly a world-creator and story-teller. Two of her stories received an Honorable Mention at the Writers of the Future contest. One of her stories has been published in Pulphouse Magazine #5 (March 2019). She writes, draws, ignores her day job and blogs every other day.

  Read more at Barbara G.Tarn’s site.