Albert Who?

"So..."  Bryan, my roommate squinted at me over the top of his black-framed glasses. "Are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?" I tried assuming an innocent air that unfortunately wasn't going to fool Bryan or anyone else for that matter. I was not good at pretense, and even worse, I was a terrible liar. Under direct questioning I would cave like a squashed banana.
"That you had an illicit liaison last night with a man you met in the toilet at the Albert Hall."
"Do I have to tell him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Bryan let out a long heavy sigh. "Because, my dear Robert, you told me, and now every time I see you and Lawrence together - the man who loves you like no one ever will again -"
"Wait a minute." I faced him, hands on hips. "You don't know that."
"Oh yes, I do. I have witnessed this love he has for you with my own eyes. I have seen the evidence of it every time he is here. The way he touches you, looks at you, strips you naked with those hazel eyes of his, all the time wishing I'd get the hell out of the flat and leave the two of you alone together - which of course I do, and for which you should be eternally grateful. He is, after all, quite a catch."
"Jesus, Bryan, it sounds to me as if you're a bit infatuated with him."
"Maybe I am..."
"What?"
"Maybe I think I'd be a much better boyfriend to him than you have or ever will be. I know if I had Lawrence in my life, I'd never do it in the top balcony of the Albert Hall, in the dark, with some total stranger I'd picked up in the loo!"
"Is this a confession?" I yelled. "Are you telling me you have the hots for my boyfriend /"
"Have, ever since the first time you brought him over here." He rolled off the couch he'd been sitting on and walked into the kitchen, with me right on his heels. "Furthermore, I have wanked off to the thought of his lovely body smothering mine nearly every night since then."
I stared at him, horrified. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you're not good enough for him, Robert, and if you don't tell him what you did, I shall, and when he stands there all brokenhearted, I  will  open my arms and give him solace, followed by the really hot sex he deserves, and isn't getting from you."
"What? How the hell could you possibly know what goes on between Lawrence and me?"
"Walls have ears..."
"Bollocks...whores have ears!" I snapped. I reached for him, ready to grab him by the throat... His face blurred before my eyes, and suddenly he was gone.
I woke up drenched in sweat. What was all that? I wondered, my mind still hazy from the shock of being so abruptly shaken from a sound sleep.
I didn't have a roommate, nor a flat. I lived in Clapham with my mum and dad, and I certainly didn't have a boyfriend named Lawrence.
What I did have, and I have to confess it was true, the memory of some bloke standing at the next urinal in the loo at the Albert Hall. "Nice one," he said, looking down at my penis. I got so nervous I peed down my pants leg and fled from the toilet.
Pitiful, really.