03. I Thought I was Pretending

A short story by Corey Patten 02/17//25

“Alright everyone, welcome back to our circle of shame,” says Aurelia, the group facilitator. “As usual, let's start by everyone introducing themselves and why they’re here.” These words cause Ahmad to writhe in his seat. As if he needs a reminder every week of why he’s such an awful person.

“Hi everyone, I’m Pete. I’m here because I gave someone HIV.” This is met by a chorus of,

“Hi Pete.” Next to him, a woman says,

“Hey everyone, I’m Latoyah. I sexually assaulted my girlfriend.”

“Hi Latoyah.” This continues around the circle until all eyes fall on Ahmad, and with a deep breath he says,

“Hello, I’m Ahmad and I cheated on my wife.”

“Hi Ahmad,” is the dispassionate response. Ahmad is surprised when rather than dirty looks, the group simply turn to look at the next person.

It’s not long before all of the introductions are made, and Aurelia lets their eyes fall on each member in turn. When their eyes land on Ahmad he quickly averts his gaze.

“Ahmad,” they say. “Are you alright?” Ahmad looks back at them, then down at the odd position in which he’s sitting.

“I’m alright,” he says with a forced smile. “Just can never get comfortable in a chair.” Aurelia continues to look at him, as if studying him.

“Alright,” they respond with a slight frown. “Anyway, since you’re new here, it might be good for you to begin.” They all watch Ahmad, who shrinks under their gaze.

“So, I just talk about when I cheated?”

“I’d like to get to know you first.” Ahmad shrugs his shoulders,

“What do you want to know?” After a brief pause Aurelia says simply,

“Tell us about your week.” Ahmad looks back at them, unsure as to how this will help at all, but takes a deep breath and begins.

“Why not. Well on Monday I had a date. The first I’ve had since my wife left me a year ago.”

I arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes too early because I was so nervous. We’d been talking online for a couple of months. When he finally arrived, it was a bit awkward, as it normally is. We hugged and it so stiff. Not like that! Anyway, the problem was that the awkwardness never went away. He asked me,

“What kind of music do you like?”  I quickly came up with a bunch of random pop divas I was fairly certain he’d like. He smiled and said, “Figures. All of us gays have the same taste in music.”

I asked, “What do you do for work?” which is like the most boring question ever. But he told me,

“I work as a barista,” which really shouldn’t have surprised me. We spoke for way too long about our jobs and all the tedious things we do each day and the people we work with. The conversation did not flow easily at all and to make matters worse the chair was so uncomfortable. It was way too soft and bouncy in a way that I constantly felt like I was going to fall off. Anyway, it's just one of those things that happens, I guess.

Aurelia looks down at their notepad and scribbles something down as Ahmad’s knee bounces. They slowly look up and their eyes rest on Ahmad for a moment before they say,

“He called you gay, but if I recall correctly, you’re bisexual. Did you correct him?” The question sends a little shock through Ahmad, though he isn’t sure why.

“No.”

“Why not?” There is a moment of hesitation where the voice in Ahmad’s head says,

“Because I probably am.” But then out loud he says, “I didn’t want to make it even more awkward.” Aurelia nods, but their expression, though it remains mostly impassive, gives the slight impression of dissatisfaction with that answer.

“Alright,” they say. “Go on.” Ahmad takes another deep breath and moves on through his story.

“A few days later I went out for coffee with my friend.”

I head into Cafe Slay and take a seat because my friend always runs a little late. I nearly died when I saw my date from a few nights before. I quickly threw myself into a chair out of sight. The chairs there are horrible too by the way, just as soft and bouncy as the ones at the restaurant. Anyway, I wait for a while and eventually my friend turns up. We hug and catch up on our lives like normal, then the server comes over and of course it's my date. That was awkward. We were flirting as he asked,

“Do you want an iced or hot coffee?” which is something they’ve only started doing recently. There’s not really any difference to me, both taste gross, but getting a hot drink is a nice change. He left and my friend was smirking at me when he said,

“Actually getting use of your bisexual card I see.” I rolled my eyes, we chatted, for a bit,  and that was that.

“Hold on,” Aurelia says, stopping Ahmad short. “What does that mean? Actually using your bisexual card.” Ahmad shrugs his shoulders and says,

“He meant because I actually dated a guy.” Aurelia’s brow furrows.

“Are you not bisexual when married to a woman?” Ahmad throws his hands in the air, unsure why Aurelia is so fixed on this one point. They sigh and scribble on their notepad.

“Why did you get a coffee if you don’t like coffee?” Pete asks. Ahmad looks over and shoots finger guns at Pete as he says,

“Because it was a coffee catch up.” Ahmad isn’t entirely sure why everyone is looking at him with a weird look.

“You could have a tea or a chai latte,” Latoyah says. Ahmad turns to her then with a look of confusion. Despite the fact that Ahmad loves a chai latte, and this suggestion seems reasonable, that’s not what you do when someone asks to catch up for coffee.

“Alright,” Aurelia says, looking up from another scribbled note and cutting the conversation off. “Please go on Ahmad.” He sighs and without thinking too much says,

“Just yesterday I ran into my ex.” He grimaces as he is instantly flooded with regret. Aurelia raises a single eyebrow, and he knows there’s no getting out of talking about it now. He sighs again.

I turned up to a friend’s birthday party. When she walked through the door I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I was stuck not wanting to make eye contact, and yet not being able to stop looking at her. She looks just as beautiful as the day she left. Her cute button nose that reminds me of a pig’s. In a good way of course. The roundness of her face and the freckles upon her cheeks. This lasts for about half an hour until the next time I turn to look for her she’s beside me, staring up at me with eyes that sparkle. She says,

“Hey, long time no see.” My throat closes, and she adds, “How have you been?”

“Good,” I say finally, forcing the words from my throat. “What about you.” She smiles.

“Good.” She looks away to a pair of chairs and asks, “sit with me?” I know I shouldn’t, that it will hurt, but I do anyway. I’m so focused on her that I barely notice how uncomfortable that chair is. Way too hard and unyielding. What is it with all the chairs in this city? Anyway, she asks, “How have you been?” and for some reason I say,

“Not bad. I went on a date recently. They were alright.”

“She says, I’m sure she was lovely.” Talking still flows so smoothly between us. It was really nice to see her again, even though it makes me feel as awful as ever once it's over.

Ahmad’s eyes refocus on the group in front of him, the curtains closing as his memory finishes. He rubs his hands on his leg as the group watches him quietly. Finally, Aurelia asks,

“Why did you feel so much self-loathing when you saw your ex-wife?” Ahmad blinks a few times.

“Because it reminds me of what I did.” Aurelia nods slowly.

“You remember you cheated on your wife.” A pause.

“Yes.”

“And why did you do that?” Ahmad grabs his legs a little tighter.

“I don’t know.” Aurelia squints slightly.

“I’m sure you’ve thought about it. You don’t have any idea?” Ahmad sighs.

“No, I have no idea.” Aurelia says,

“Think about it for me.” Ahmad rolls his eyes and says,

“I don’t know. Probably because I’m a bad person,” shifting in his seat. Aurelia purses their lips.

“I don’t believe people fit into good and bad. You are just a person who happened to do a bad thing.” All around the circle, heads nod and then stiffly, Ahmad does too. “So, if that’s the case, why did you cheat?”

“Why does it matter?” Ahmad asks, throwing his hands in the air and shifting in his seat again.

“Once we know why, we can help you move forward.” Ahmad’s jaw clenches and he slaps his hands down on his legs.

“But I don’t know why,” he says through his teeth. “Maybe it’s because I can’t just be happy. Maybe it’s because I worried I made the wrong decision.” He shifts on the chair, then abruptly stands. “Maybe it’s because I can’t sit in a damned chair!” He kicks the chair across the room. “Or maybe it’s because I felt like a fraud, that I was just pretending to be straight!” The silence that follows is deafening. Everyone simply stares at Ahmad, who is breathing heavily. Aurelia silently stands and picks up their chair. They walk across and places it where Ahmad’s chair had previously sat. The entire time Ahmad stares at his feet.

“Why don’t you try this chair?” Ahmad stairs at the chair, then at Aurelia, then back at the chair. He takes a deep breath and sits. His eyes widen as he wriggles about in the seat. Aurelia, pulling another chair from the edge of the room, asks, “How does that feel?”

“This feels so much better,” Ahmad says in awe. “Not too soft and not too firm.”

“Seems you’ve been forcing yourself to choose between two chairs that don’t work for you,” Aurelia says. They click their pen and continue, “Now, let's address what you just said.” Ahmad takes a deep breath in anticipation. “You felt that you were pretending to be straight?” It takes Ahmad a moment to say,

“Yes, I thought I was pretending to be bisexual.” Aurelia opens their mouth to speak but Ahmad continues, “I understand now I wasn’t pretending. That I can be both gay and straight.”

“Ahmad,” says Aurelia softly, “You aren’t both gay and straight. You are bisexual, and you need to stop people saying otherwise.” He looks up at her, his brow furrowed. “You seem to be looking at things in a black or white, this or that lens. But the world isn’t that neat.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been letting people erase your bisexual identity. Often, people sort things into a binary, one or another, but really all of life is a spectrum. It’s not gay or straight, hot or cold coffee, good and bad people. It can be bisexual, asexual, demisexual. It can be tea, or hot chocolate, or chai. There are people who sometimes do good things and sometimes do bad things. Hell, you’ve even been trying to fit into either soft or hard chairs. I mean, find another chair!” This elicits some chuckles from the room, but Ahmad nods slowly, deep in contemplation. “So, what do you think?” Something in his face has changed when he says,

“I’m not gay or straight, I’m bisexual. And I’m not a bad person, I’m a person who did something bad. But I can also be a person who does good.”

About Corey Patten

is an Australian short story writer who spent 2023 traveling around Europe, concluding his journey by volunteering with Fighting Fear, where he supported LGBTQ+ forced migrants. His work has earned special mentions in various literary competitions, with his piece "I Don't Know How to Be Gay" gaining recognition in 2024. Corey, a Gay man, is passionate about telling the untold stories of Queer lives. His series, "Tales from Rainbow City," builds a unique universe where diverse LGBTQIA+ characters’ lives intersect as they navigate their identities and confront the challenges they face. For more information about his work follow him @astorywithcorey on Instagram.

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