Private life of Diesel

Length: medium

He was a boy… particularly annoying.
At school he did well; sometimes he studied, sometimes he copied, but every time he came up with quite convincing grades. The professors loved him, and they weren’t the only ones. The students liked him too, especially the girls.
The boys found him mostly likeable, but some couldn’t stand him… or were afraid of him. In fact he was quite intimidating: tall, muscular, athletic, with his left arm fully tattooed… yes, he was scary.
I remember he dated a different girl every week; most of the most beautiful girls in school had seen him naked at least once. I still remember the envy I felt for him and all those like him: a burning and unbearable feeling of inadequacy and inferiority.
I hated the fact that he could have a new girlfriend whenever he wanted, just as I hated the fact that they kept following him even though it was clear that he was not interested in having serious relationships with any of them.
I have always considered myself a better person than him: I studied with more dedication, I created fewer problems, I was much more respectful, I always dressed elegantly, I trained every day and unlike him I did not waste my time in useless parties or fights … Yet I have never experienced his success with girls.
He often walked into the classroom with red knuckles or swollen eyes. He was a hoodlum, and he prided himself on being one. He and his group of thugs annoyed everyone, and the worst thing is that they acted as if they were in the right.
They said they were just punishing assholes for their misdeeds, so both boys and girls looked at them with respect, and it was this factor that convinced me to enroll in a martial arts course. I thought that I too would start getting more respect if I started doing some combat sports, but… it didn’t happen.
I’ve been doing jiujitsu for six years now. I am a black belt, I have also won several competitions. Yet no one seems to find my passion interesting, someone even consider it “useless”.
Since school end things have improved for me though. Now I study at a good university, I live alone with my girlfriend, I do a nice part-time job … everything is fine. I’m happy, maybe even more than him.
I can say that because a few days ago I happened to meet him by chance in a bar. He was drinking all alone and thoughtfully, while I was there with my girlfriend. My first instinct was to not let me being seen and avoid him, but then I noticed the clothes he was wearing … trivial and poor stuff. Mine were expensive and elegant clothes instead, so I thought … “why run”?
I was sure I would only look good if my girlfriend compared the two of us, and I also wanted to show that guy how beautiful my girlfriend was.
I was lucky with her, I have to admit it. I met her in the gym, she is a martial arts enthusiast. It was very difficult for me to conquer her, so the desire to show her to him was very high … I wanted to show her off like I would do with a trophy.
In the end, driven by the curiosity to know how he was doing and by the desire to flex my clothes and my love conquest, I decided to approach him and said hello.
At school we never talked that much, but we were on good terms… more or less. He didn’t know I found him unpleasant or annoying, so he always treated me like I was just another ass licker ready to compliment him every time he flexed his muscles.
He didn’t even remember my name when he saw me, but he remembered my face so he greeted me and told me that he was in a hurry but that he wouldn’t mind meeting me again another day … and that day is today.
<<Honey!>> my girlfriend calls me from the other room <<Your friend has arrived! Shall I open it?>>
I take a deep breath, and throwing a last glance at the bathroom mirror I reply by saying <<Wait, I’ll open it!>>
I leave the bathroom, walk towards the front door, and when I open it I find Diesel on the other side, waiting.
He is dressed exactly like last time, with simple shirt and shorts. He is muscular as usual, biceps calves and thighs are really to be envied, and when his gaze fits with mine … I …
<<Hello.>> I greet him, with growing nervousness.
<<Hey.>> he gives me a pat on my shoulder <<Nice house.>> he adds entering the hall.
<<Thanks.>>
Having said that, he walks quietly inside the house, basically treating me as if I were nothing more than a doorman.