What's up, folks? This time, I'm departing a bit from what is normally considered “furry fiction.” I am instead writing a story about the furry fandom in a fictional, but not fantastic way. The characters in the story are both real; it's me and my crush (names have been changed). It departs from reality into fantasy partway through. I think you'll get it. Let me know what you think!
FUR
I've been abroad in Vienna for about three months now. While I am homesick, I've met some people here that have quickly become my best friends. Most of them are also students who are studying abroad, but few of them are from the United States, as I am. Of all the people I've met here, the one I'll miss most is a Spanish girl named Alicia.
We met at a function for exchange students early in the semester, and since then, our group of friends has gone on many excursions together. We went to Bratislava, Prague and Budapest as well as toured the city of Vienna in depth together.
I have to admit, I've taken quite a liking to Alicia. She's beautiful, but it's far more than that. We're so similar that it's scary, but different enough never to be boring. For instance, we both love metal music, but you'd never know it by looking at us. In fact, the only way we found out was an evening in Prague when she grabbed my iPod and started freaking out when she saw all the metal music I had. We're also both really into learning foreign languages. She speaks Spanish as her first language, but also knows English, German and French. I (knowing English of course) also know Spanish, German and Russian. We're also both huge animal lovers. We both have two dogs, but the most interesting part is that she has a Bichon Frise and German Shepherd, and I have a Bichon Frise and a German Shepherd. She's also Catholic like me and we seem to like to do the same kinds of things.
Now, being relatively new to the whole European method of courtship combined with not having been “in the game,” as it were, for so long (I'm a few months removed from a three-year relationship), most times, I can't tell if Alicia is flirting with me or just being friendly. The realist in me knows that she should be considered way out of my league. The optimist in me, though, hopes that our connection transcends that boundary.
During winter break, I spent much of my time alone, which is not something that I'm used to, especially on holidays. I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. I decided during that time that if I didn't find out for sure in the one month I had before I left Vienna, I might never know, and I might miss out on something great, if only temporary.
At the end of break, about a week into January, 2012, when people were arriving back from their homes to get back to work for the end of the semester, I sent Alicia a message on Facebook.
“Hey, Alicia. Hope you had a great Christmas and a happy New Year!! I know you're probably just getting back and everything but once you're settled in, we should have lunch or something. I've got a couple new albums that you might like. Let me know!”
The message took me a long ten minutes to draft, trying not to sound desperate, but not to sound ambivalent either. It also took a lot of courage to hit that “send” button, knowing that a rejection could knock our friendship down a few pegs, which is the last thing I wanted. To my surprise, though, she answered back quickly and affirmatively. We set a date for Wednesday afternoon.
That day, as planned, I got up earlier than normal, dressed nicely but not “dressy” per se, and headed to the small cafe near the university to meet her. She showed up right on time (which is strange for a Spaniard) and we went in and got some food.
During lunch, we talked about our breaks, the kinds of things we got for Christmas, and what our plans for the end of the semester were. I had brought with me a flash drive with some new music on it to give to her, as promised. We talked about the music, and she said she couldn't wait to listen. Asked if I had my iPod on me, I realized I had left it at my apartment.
In a sudden stroke of ballsiness and courage, I interjected, “You wanna come over and listen to it? My laptop with all my music is there anyway. We could explore some new music together.”
The trickiness of talking to a girl who doesn't speak English as a native language is trying to figure out if she understands the subtle meanings behind certain things. She agreed without hesitation and I was once again left in the dark, but I was hopeful.
On our way to my building we talked more about our dogs. I mentioned how I got to see mine on Skype over Christmas and she talked about how hers were afraid of their new cat. When we got to the apartment, we went inside and as I walked to my computer desk to get my laptop, I gestured at the room in general, offering her a seat.
As hoped, she sat down on my bed (given, her only other option was a wooden chair, but still). I drug my computer chair, laptop and speakers to in front of the bed and sat down next to her. I opened iTunes and started the first song of the new Korn album, “The Path of Totality.”
We listened and talked about the songs for a while. I offered her a drink and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. On my way back, I grabbed one of the gifts my mother had sent me for Christmas: a new edition of Pittsburgh Magazine. The cover for this issue featured the likes of one of my all-time favorite hockey players, Evgeni Malkin. I'd read the story in the magazine online long before the care package from home had ever arrived, but it was still nice to show people that ice hockey isn't as obscure a sport in the US as it is in Europe.
I handed her the magazine to look at. She'd heard of Pittsburgh but had never been there. She flipped through, taking time to look at the pictures of the city. She also laughed at a few of the advertisements. In addition to the hockey article, there was an article about a famous Pittsburgh sandwich shop (called Primanti Brothers') and some articles about the strides that were being made in research at a Pittsburgh-area hospital. Towards the end of the magazine, I noticed an article caught her attention.
It was an article about the furry convention, Anthrocon. It had been hosted in Pittsburgh this past summer and each summer since 2006, and would be held there again this July. One of the things Alicia did not know about me was that I was a furry. In fact, nobody in my real life knew at this point. I was relatively new to the scene myself.
The article had pictures of one of the fursuit parades. I was, at that point, unaware of whether the furry fandom was a solely-American concept or not. I spoke up first. “Do you have 'furries' in Spain?” I was careful to vocalize neither a hopeful nor a negative intonation to the question.
“Yeah, we do,” she responded. “It's a big thing in western Europe I think.”
“Oh, alright. What do you think of them? Do you like them, do they weird you out?” I asked carefully.
“Actually... well, we're friends, right Zack? Amigos cercanos, nó?”
“Yeah, of course,” I said, confusedly.
“Well, honestly, I am one of them. I... like the whole furry thing.”
I smiled widely. “Really?”
“Yeah. I even went to the big European furry conference in Germany. Eurofurence.”
Without pausing, I said, “that's awesome. Do you have like a fursona? ¿Fursonalidad?” I said, trying to find a word for it that she'd understand.
She looked away nervously. I thought she might be getting uncomfortable. I realized that if I were in her shoes I'd probably think I was having fun poked at me for something I was really quietly interested in. I decided to break the nervousness by extending a hand to her.
She looked at me quizzically and shook my hand.
“Grisli. The grizzly bear. Nice to meet you. And you are?”
Her face lit up. “You too? Really? Seriously?”
I kept nodding, “yeah, me too!” we both laughed happily. She hugged me and did the excited-girl-squeeling-thing.
She went on told me about her fursona, a fox. We talked about how we got interested in the fandom.
Finally, I said, “It's crazy how similar we are. Like, seriously, what are the chances?”
She smiled widely and held my arm in that in-America-this-is-flirty kind of way that baffled me to no end. In a moment of temporary insanity, feeding off the happy connective energy, I did something that would either increase the mood the drastically or drop it down significantly: I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling back.
When I pulled back, I noticed her eyes fixed forward as she bit her lower lip slightly before a wide smile spread over her face. Her cheeks flushed for a moment before she looked at up at me. The leaned in and I leaned back in and we kissed. Lightly at first, and then passionately.
I couldn't believe my luck. This gorgeous young woman, who by all standards I should have no shot with, was not only into basically everything that I was into, but was apparently into me as well.
My iTunes, which was now on shuffle, began playing the song “Dear God” by “Avenged Sevenfold.” Alicia pulled back for a moment. “This is my favorite song by them,” she whispered.
I smiled as we kissed again. I decided to leave it as a surprise that “Dear God” was also my favorite A7X song as well.
Topic: Fur: A Different Type of Furry-Fiction (Read 1248 times)