Flowers
Flowers.
Whizzer Brown hated flowers.
Except for roses, but still, only blood red roses. He liked the way they would furl and wrap to the tight centre. Roses for love. Roses for romance. He liked how expensive they were more than anything.
The reason he hated flowers was due to the fact he had a horrendous allergy to them. If he was anywhere in the vicinity of even a single flower, if not highly medicated on antihistamines and painkillers, he would become the visual representation of the flu.
He would look a sickly green, coughing up nasty substances that made even him gag. His nose would go a bright red, his eyes matching it, looking as though he had been crying for days and he struggled to breath. Usually he would curl up in his bed and pray to an unknown power to die. To Whizzer Brown, looking like this was one of the greatest punishments in the world. Why God had given him beauty just to take it away whenever he was near the tiny fuckers was a mystery to him.
But still, he was a materialistic man, and the promise of roses could make him do anything.
Including working for free at his friend, Cordelia’s, flower shop while she was out of town on a romantic get away with her girlfriend.
It was a quiet shop, and he wasn’t even sure why he was there, every few hours, getting a single customer pondering outside for a few moments before leaving. The boredom would probably kill him before the flowers, he decided.
But he caught a glance of himself in one of the glass panes of the greenhouse like walls and realised that he looked like hell, just couldn’t feel it. Probably the result of taking about the amount an amputee would take of oxycodone, which he hadn’t exactly come across legally, in ten minutes. Granted, after seeing his reflection, he suddenly felt a lot worse for wear.
He decided he was going to close shop early when suddenly a man flurried in, “Delia, I need my normal order!” he exclaimed, hurrying to the counter, his wallet already out with a very precise amount of cash held out. He finally looked up as he slammed the cash down on the wearing wood. “who the fuck are you, and why do you look shockingly sick?” he asked.
“do I, do I really?” Whizzer replied sarcastically taking a judgmental look up and down at this man. Definitely gay. His words were slurring as he spoke, sounding kinda funny as they left his lips. He smacked a hand over his mouth, his eyes opening wide, as he realised how rude he was being to a customer “I’m sorry, I’m high.” He smacked his hand over his mouth again, “I mean, I’m not high but I’m allergic to flowers and took a fuck tonne of oxy.”
“oh.” The man’s mouth made a perfect ‘o’ shape. It made Whizzer want to giggle, he looked like a cartoon. “where’s Cordelia?” he asked.
“she’s on a personal trip.” Whizzer said, a matter-of-fact expression on his face as his voice dropped very low. The grainy sound of it sounded funny and his movements felt extremely exaggerated. He had the urge to laugh but didn’t know why.
The man’s face suddenly lit up as though he remembered something, “oh yes, the trip to the Hamptons with Charlotte! Shit, I forgot. Do you still think I could get my regular?”
“you know know Cordelia?” He asked, wondering how he had never been introduced to this obviously gay man before.
“yes, I know know Cordelia. Now, can I get my regular or not.” He fidgeted nervously, nudging the healthy wad of cash towards Whizzer.
Whizzer wiped his weeping eyes, sighing, “you came just in time, I was about to close up.” He said, walking around the counter to the back office. “She left me a couple of notes…” he called out, the man able to hear the sound of pots falling and breaking. “ah! What did you say your name was?” he asked, popping his head around the door, almost falling over from the momentum.
“I didn’t, it’s Marvin.” He said, smiling.
“Marvin… Marvin… Marvie, Marv…” Whizzer said, giggling to himself as he trailed his finger down the list, “nope. No Marvin, we only have a Mrs Z, a Carmen and ‘the cheating asshat’.”
“that would be me.” Marvin said, rolling his eyes.
Whizzer’s eyebrows flew into his hair. “I see.” Was all he said, trying to force his face to go back to normal. He exited the room, collecting the flowers that were scrawled down in Cordelia’s flouncy handwriting.
“it’s not what you think.” Marvin called out over Whizzer’s humming as he picked out the deadest flowers he could find.
“I wasn’t thinking anything.” Whizzer replied, taking a single perfect rose in his gloved hands. Something different for a change, beautiful, a token reminder of him.
“they’re for my wife.”
“ho ho ho! Your wife!” Whizzer exclaimed, “you cheat on your wife?” he suddenly stopped. “does she know?” he asked, curious now, a seductive smirk gracing his lips.
Marvin’s head dropped slightly, “no?”
“why was that a question?”
“because I don’t think she knows” he said. “I get her flowers every time I cheat on her.” He said, slightly guiltily.
“I hate to break it to you hon, but she knows.” Whizzer said, placing the flowers down onto the counter, rummaging beneath it.
“surely not, she hasn’t said anything...”
“what’s his name?” Whizzer asked, ignoring him as he began to wrap the flowers.
“sorry?”
“the guy you cheat with,” Whizzer looked up from wrapping them. “what’s his name?”
“he’s, um… how did you know It was a he?”
Whizzer snorted, “please.” He stated, “so, what’s he like?”
Marvin ran a hand through his messy hair, “I’m not… it’s more like one-night stands.”
“ooh, a bad boy.” He said, a small giggle on his face. “why didn’t Cordelia introduce us, you’re cute.”
“because I’m married and she-“ he gestured to the list Whizzer had put down, “-obviously doesn’t condone my cheating.”
“doesn’t faze me.” Whizzer said, his eyes meeting Marvin’s, a seductive glint in them.
Marvin let out a soft laugh, “you obviously haven’t broken up a family.”
“two.” Whizzer replied, bringing a hand forward to delicately caress Marvin’s face.
“two?”
“two.” He could feel Marvin trembling beneath his palm “I like to think I’m doing them a service.” He brought his lips to Marvin’s ear, his hot breath causing him to shiver, “tell me Marvin, do you really love your wife, or would you prefer not to feel the guilt anymore?” He whispered.
“I…—” Marvin pulled back. “I would like my flowers please.”
Whizzer smiled, “of course.” He watched Marvin turn to admire the roses and tied up the bouquet with a blood red ribbon. “here.” He whispered, passing Marvin the bunch, “and my number, in case you want to know how gorgeous I look when I’m not surrounded by these little fuckers who want to kill me.” He handed Marvin the slip of paper, “I bet I could be the best you’ve had.” He winked, watching Marvin’s ass as he walked away, shocked.