Priscilla and Pride. Pimms and Pain.

Pimms and lemonade, strawberries and cream, picnics and al fresco sex. This was SLB's London in Summer. Fresh from sunning himself in Brighton all week, SLB had got a group of his friends together to celebrate the hot weather and...being gay. It was all frightfully frightful. They'd all been to watch the gay pride parade process down Oxford Street, then congregated in Trafalgar Square for more gay frolics and drunken fun. There were 10 foot tall trannies, poppers for Africa, and representatives from the smallest of the smallest of gay minorities. SLB thought he saw a float advocating the rights of gay, Korean, Presbytarian, bears but he couldn't be sure. The day threatened to sour when he was elbowed out of the drinks queue by an angry lesbian with blue hair (It all turned so terribly un-British at Pride sometimes) but SLB was too high on the spirit of gays everywhere to care. International gay, SLB had taken it upon himself to organise a little trip to the campest show in town to allow his friends some well-deserved respite from the maddening crowds but not from the theme of the day, or the spectacle that is Priscilla: Queen of the Desert.

Once back out in the warm evening air, SLB was being groped left, right and centre. And loving every minute of it. He was well and truly in his element here. Amidst the crowd, he even managed to score a photo with a woman wearing what looked to be giant fallopian tubes on her head. Of course.

Sucked up into the heaving masses, he was separated from his friends momentarily, but didn't care in the slightest. He knew every second boy in the crowd and had slept with every other one. Naturally.

Then it hit him. A searing pain that just about knocked him over. A blinding, hot, heavy weight that pressed down on his chest, pulled at his legs and stabbed at his heart. It was the headache from the worst hangover he'd ever had. It was the dull, guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach from the biggest lie he'd ever told. It was butterflies from his first kiss and later, from when he came out to his parents. SLB couldn't breathe. He was burning up. He was about to faint. He was choking back the tears as darkness closed in, and all he could smell was the stench of a hundred men's sweat around him. Just before it all turned black, he saw a face in the distance and realised what was happening.

It was Joe with a Flute. He was still in love with him and he HAD to get him back.