Brought to you by Aristo-Goldeagle Ltd.

[center][h3]Southern Hyrkos - The Fukapoulos Residence[/h3][/center]

The chamber was awash with the din of pipes and drums, and the sounds of laughter leaked well beyond the walls of the homestead. The frame of the door was painted a blood red, and from it hung bundles of herbs, and a cluster of arrows, symbolizing the coming of age of a boy that called it home. It was now evening, and from the windows throbbed the shadows of dancing figures in candlelight. 

“Come on, Stephanos!” A hairy hand tousled the hair of the youngster, who was jerked forward by the motion.  His father, and patron of the Fukapoulos family, Annos, gave a hearty laugh and continued, “You should be proud! Now that you’ve slain your first boar, you’re in the men’s club now!”  Stephan tried to force a smile, and he held his cup of wine unsteadily. Not that he’d drunk any - there was another reason for his uneasiness.

Before the boy could say a word, he was shoved from his spot towards the center of the room, where a handful of courtesans were gathered, flaunting themselves to the predominately-male audience, gyrating their bodies to the groove of the music. The push sent Stephanos stumbling, and he tripped over the disheveled corner of a rug. His momentum carried him, awkwardly, into the bosom of one of these dancing girls, and the roars of laughter from his uncles and cousins rang in his ears, muffled by a pair of milky-white globes pressed into his face. 

A combination of dread and revulsion swelled up in the young Fukapoulos, and he made to escape, but a strength unexpected of the lithe figure held him fast.

The hoarse laugh of Uncle Phalos erupted from the corner of the room as he watched his nephew struggle against the woman’s chest. Being the benefactor of the party, he felt obligated to go congratulate his nephew’s second triumph of the day. With a wiggle of his extremely noticeable eyebrows he set his foaming drink down and strutted over, his trousers high and tight against his ill proportioned body to which resembled an upside down pear. 

Walking up behind his nephew he gave a curt nod to the able bodied woman keeping him captive. The woman released the boy and Stephan leaned back to suck in a great breath of air, polluted with perfume. A hand that could knock a bull’s teeth out slapped Stephan hard on the back, “glad to see you finally enjoying your party!” Phalos declared, rubbing a mustache triple the bush of his eyebrows, “I see you are a man who prefers… well… the more… well quite frankly a woman who could knock you on your ass with a single blow!” He laughed, “and one with plenty of…” he motioned with both of his hands, elbow hooked around Stephans neck, forcing him to watch the gesture, “of…”

“Vigor,” he finally decided on, before roaring a drunk laugh.

Stephanos was at a loss for words. He knew he’d have to endure being the front-and-center of attention, and bearing the brunt of his family’s jokes. However, it was the secret that he clung on to inside that prevented him from fully enjoying himself - something that he should have told his family long ago, but hadn’t, out of apprehension. What would they think? Would his killing of his boar make any difference if they knew? But what better time to divulge it than now, at the most important day of his young life? If he went along with the machinations of Uncle Phalos and his father now, could he ever turn back?

The youth took a deep breath, cleared his throat and started, “Uncle Phalos, I have a confession to make, and I’d like you to hear it first.”

“Oh? Out with it, then, boy!” he gurgled, with no less mirth than before.

“Well… Since I was younger, I’ve...”

“Always wanted to live up to your great uncle Phalos?” the mustached man beamed proudly.

“Ehm, In a way...” Stephanos began, a hint of irritation on his brow, “I’ve always admired your stories and I’ve learned a lot from you, but the truth of the matter is I’m...”

“Going to make your own greater stories?” Phalos wiggled his mighty eyebrows as he scanned the room, aplenty with potential partners for his nephew, “possibly tonight? Eh? Eh?”

“Yes... I would hope so...” he answered, actually cross for the first time tonight. “But what I’d like to tell you is that...”

“Not only do you hope so, but you’ve already picked a potential adventure out very well as we even speak?” Phalos squinted as he scanned the room for the potential partner. 

“NO, UNCLE! I”M FUCKING-”

“ALL THESE FINE WOMEN THIS VERY NIGHT, NOW THATTA BOY! AMBITIOUS BUT THATTA BOY!” Phalos clapped his hands, beating his mighty arms in a victorious flap.  

At this point, Stephanos’ face was flush with vexation, and he threw his wine cup aside, dashing from his uncle to a fair-haired, dainty lute player, a boy not much younger than himself. Without a second thought, he smothered his lips against the musician’s, and with a loud ‘smack’ of his lips, turned to his family and screamed,

[center][b]“I'M FUCKING GAY!”[/b][/center]