Gay Story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
[Edited] Wrote this so a select few friends could read it. The introduction has been cut off so the start probably won't make sense without a minor exposition. So I'll toss any lucky reader an exposition I guess.

The city that always rains. The broken slums, and abandoned people left inside. When two strangers meet inside of a bar, what web of connections can be uncovered, and what can a 'two week trial' really change?

Also this isn't a completed work in any regard. Merely this is the first few chapters of a probable long story. Set in the span of two weeks.

Submitted: August 11, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 11, 2012



I glared at him, my expression hidden under the shadow of my hood. Which, of course, he pulls down with a smirk.

"It's rude to wear hats indoors, figure the same goes for hoods. Sides, you got a nice face, no reason to hide it."
I blinked incredulously at the stranger, who released his grip of me a just a moment ago. Well that was a new way of calling me a faggot if I ever heard one.
The stranger's hand slid his own glass smoothly to the one I had put down, smirking in his black collared shirt and blue denim pants. This man near me was clean cut, well dressed, and kind of...
I shook my head clear all the idiotic thoughts and took the alcohol he had given me without a second thought. Was pretty sure it was some cyanide crap. Would save everyone the trouble of trying to kill me in the first place. It slid down smoothly and cold. Never tasted like anything I was served here before. Refreshing even.
I gave the stranger who offered his backwash to me another inquiring look. Now that I thought about it...he was in such clean, nice clothing. It was a miracle he wasn't mugged.
My hand reached into my backpocket, pulling out another small heft of money, some staying behind. Even though they were my last bills for now.
"I should pay you. Was your glass afterall."
"You should. By telling me your name. And if what the barkeep said was true."
I pulled out the last of my money from my wallet, tossing it to the bartender's counter. I grimaced sickly at the idea of another blind bigot.
"...You are a stranger then. Name's Alex, and Iike I've told everyone, fuck no!"
I abruptly pushed up to leave. But suddenly his strong hand gripped my wrist as I lifted up, disallowing me to leave. It wasn't so tight as if it to hurt me, but firm enough I couldn't
very well break from it if I tried. Given my malnourished state and all. Damned slums.
"Hey. What's the problem? It's not like I'd have something against homosexuals. Being one myself."
I blinked at him, and for a brief moment I was taken by surprise. Had he just admitted...
I fought back against the confinement with the strength I could muster, and surprisingly his grip became lax and his hand left to his side.
"I'm not some shitty faggot like you. People like you should go fucking die. How can you go around saying something like that? Where's the shame? You're nothing natural, you're some just some kind of freak!"
It...felt good to be putting down someone else. To not be the one who had to bear all the insults others threw my way. Although the harsh words stung even myself regardless of their intended target. It was like I was yelling at myself in some way, and just the tone I had used made me falter slightly, maybe even cringe. I believed in those words, I truly did...but It wasn't like I enjoyed hearing them. Maybe less so from my own mouth, it felt bitter. I turned to leave, my horrid attire coating me as my only companion in this damned bar.
"Oh? The deviant bartender who spits in his sole customer's drinks is infinitely better then the man who offers you something cold and untainted? Just because I'm open-minded, egads, I'm some kind of evil devil?"
How did he...know I was the only who came here? Guess the bartender must've been elated and told him how relieved he was that he had another customer...must've felt good. Well until he learned his second customer was a second homosexual. Poor man.
"You can keep your open-mindedness to yourself. No one here wants or needs any of that."
"Denial. Ha, it's so fun to watch them in denial for a while."
Denial? What the...I left without a second remark, leaving the establish without being wasted, but still a bit tipsy from the pure booze I drank. I made my way back to home in a rush. I unlocked the door, and let myself slink on the mattress in my three-room home. I glanced at shards that had broken off the remnants of what remained of my window. Someone had tossed a rock in again. Yippee.
For a few moments, I gazed at my open door, the rock with a message, broken shards of glass, and my own arm tossed to the side of my matress. With a groan, I pushed myself up again, kicked off my rugged shoes, and socks with holes into the kitchen within a few minutes, before heading and shutting the door. Not without a surprise of course.
"You live HERE? No wonder you were in a bad mood!"
I screamed in surprise as I saw the stranger tossing the rock that had entered my abode undesired. Two intruders in one day. That motherfucking handsome man from the bar. Wait, did I really just describe him as handsome? Fuck, I meant well-looking.
"How did you fucking ge-"
"Door was unlocked. Figured I'd take a look at your pet rock and found a note tied to it by a piece of rope."
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, merely desiring solitude for the moment being.
"Get the hell out of here already."
"Why are you even here? God hates you. Nobody loves you. Your own family tossed you out on the streets to starve. You should just find some gutter to die in. Gayass Bitch."
His words were laced with malice. I wondered how he knew so much about me in the first place, and that last remark...despite the possible hilarity of it...stung the worst, like all the other words had built up to the worst insult. Why did the man who seemed to his own damned idea become apart of the mob out to ruin my life? I was trembling in fear, and...self-loathing. Knowing his words were true.
He slid a hand from behind his back, folding a sheet of paper into a ball. He let both the rock and parchment fall to the ground. Although his eyes never left me.
"...How often do rocks come with those kind of messages attached I wonder? Maybe they got the wrong house. I mean you're not gay afterall. I came after you to tell you that I was sorry for being who I was, but thought that this heinous misdelivery of soil was a grievous sin. Someone should tell this Ben fellow of his crime."
He was...joking with me? Who the fuck was he? I thought he was just attacking me, and he had read the paper with such anger...
Wait, was that anger directed to the words that were written rather then me for once? Why did I think those words were coming from him? Guess I had gotten so defensive out of mere instinct.
"...It's for me. I'm not gay, but...everyone thinks I am. Told my Christian father something about homosexuals when I was younger, and because he was rich...everyone made a scandal out of the worst slip-of-tongue I've ever done in my life. Been living with the consequences for two years and counting now! Now who the fuck are you?"
He gave a heart-warming laugh, still leaning on the wet wall by my door.
"I'm Jack. The stranger whose here to turn your life around like so many others. You think you're the only one moping, crying about how they're picked on because they're ga-"
I had launched my fist forward mid-sentence and had smack his head against the wall with my knuckles. He backed up for a moment, looking at the blood from his busted
lower lip. He still looked remarkable, but at least he couldn't look so smug when he was being condescending.
"I'm not something out of some godamn fairy tale. I'm not something you can just waltz on in and fix! Everyday I get rocks thrown at me, I get denied privileges because of the blood in my veins, I can't go around a corner some days without someone trying to shove a knife in me! I have to lay in the rain and cold wind, open to people tossing rocks at me their own discretion. Why? Because the last time they couldn't attack me, they broke in and fucking tortured me until someone with a kind heart saved me. I have goddamn insomnia because of that incident! Who the fuck do you think you are, saying you can help me?"
That bastard smiled at me. There was a thin trail of blood on his hands, but the bleeding had receded. He still looked nice though.
Damn it. Fucking gay thought.
"...Two Weeks."
I blinked confused for a brief moment.
"Listen I'm here for two weeks. Give me those two weeks to see if I can make a difference for you. And if I can't, I'll leave forever and admit that you're right. It's all I'm asking.
Sides, would it be that bad to be in the company of someone who didn't outright hate your guts?"
"You think you're any different? You're doing this because people say I'm gay. It's all my life's ever amounted to. I can't make my own choices in life without some shitty orientation being the deciding factor!"
"...So when you're finally getting something good, some kind of compassion because of...I dunno, God, karma, something; you're going to reject it because you finally can say no? When it could be the very thing that changes your life? When in the end, merely rejecting me isn't going to change anything at all? Sure you might be satisfied you got someone to listen to you, but it's the last time anyone ever would."
I felt the burning in my eyes, and reluctant tears building up. This asshole fucking pushed and pushed. I hated it.
"...Two weeks and you're gone forever?"
"Yep. I'm stuck in town due to my job, and this is what I always do anyway. No attachments; just a sample of something you've been ignoring. Something that's been missing."
My gaze could've pierced the floor with holes with its intensity. This guy...just ran around with some insecure men and had changed them for the better? And then just abandoned them like some cold heartbreaker?
"I'm only doing this so I won't have another motherfucker ruining my life."
He walked to the door with a smirk, opening the entrance with ease, before turning to me. A pencil line-sized drop of blood had trailed from his lip to his chin.
"So it's a date! Come around the bar at 8:00! Ciao now!"
He shut the door rapidly before I could retort, but I did anyway.
"Not gay! It's not a fucking date!"
I couldn't wait like usual, I was antsy. The stranger's words had stuck with me. How many lives had he had tried to change? How many people had he seduced and tried to turn; only to break their very hearts if they decided to get attached?
I had to go my workplace to ask for to use my sick days regardless, for the duration of this trial. It was nearing the end of the year, and my tally for sick days was low enough to net me two weeks. Considering I was underaged for such a dangerous job, insurance didn't handle any injuries I got off duty; and if they were serious enough that I couldn't go to work, I didn't get any pay and was fired.
Although they always rehired me.
I avoided getting my ass handed to me, thanks to my shit job because I was desperate for the pay. I snuck out from the meat-packing factory with some cans stuffed away in my jacket pockets as I usually did. It's not like anyone who might've noticed cared. Wasn't expensive and knowing how it was artificially colored and flavored might've made someone's look at meat change radically.
I kept walking the same beaten and trodden path, my blue eyes watching ahead taking in all the unaccepting gazes. I leered into an alleyway, rats scuttling underneath my feet diving into the trash for cover. These were shitty slums. There were upper and lower levels to this place. Ever seen that Disney movie; Aladdin? Think of Agrabah but without the PG rating attached; hiding the trails of rat shit, garbage, and murder on the streets. Coughing minors around every corner, and the second level to our slum home was shitty pieces of wooden planks tied together without care. It was hard to imagine an entire platform of people lived on those pieces of wood and even had clothes lines to hang out their laundry overhead. But they did surprisingly enough.
Having lived on the second floor myself; I was located near the stairs. Although you might wonder question why this place is such a cesspool. It used to be a nice place in reality. Near the south end of our little slice of hell was the meat-packing factory I worked at. This was the aftermath of noxious gases, and gallons of garbage from one industrial building. This is what it did to a once thriving suburb. It was a grotesque state of living but we made our way in this filth.
Prejudice seemed weird in a place that had the occasional...instinct of protecting each other from those rich bastards who spit on us. Like some sort of family. Everyone had something they lost, something they had to vent, something they needed to get out. I just happened to be their punching bag; because I used to be pampered and I wasn't right under God's jurisdiction. Not like I didn't agree with the homosexual slanders, but it wasn't like I enjoyed being this family's black sheep.
...My daydreaming; the only dreaming I could ever have now, was always on my mistakes, mostly my critical mistake. How could it be such a mistake to have thought something so innocent in my naivety? To think love was a universal thing, and God cherished all his children? No. God hated the majority who didn't suck his dick, and love was a bad way of saying lust and sex without cash.
Enough stupid exposition. I was forgetting why I was here, getting lost in my damned thoughts again. I turned into the maze of a slimey street until I ended up by a silver barrel. A fire was lit in the center of that canister, burning away chunks of torn newspapers, wood, debris. You name it and it was cinders by now in the center of that flame. A torn, stained carpet was draped lazily on the floor. You could see it was laid without a care easily too; wrinkles and shapes of objects underneath it. A large tarp of sorts was above the carpet, with the rain sliding off of it loudly. In the middle of all of it; an obese black woman was sitting. It was like walking into a Gypsy's tent. Just needed a smoke machine.
Black hair, black eyes. Round gaunt face, sweat dripping from it on to her double chin. Somehow she had managed to buy big pants to cover her enormous rear, and she had a shirt that seemed to strain itself trying to hold back the torrents of lard. She had a large smile, the light of the flame was gleaming in her eyes when I approached. To her sides her two scantily clad children. One wore a white tank-top, and blue cargo shorts with sandals, with black braids in his hair. The other was bald, scowling, short, and only wearing long green pants. Their malnourished, bony chests were an eyesore and something you'd see out of a Holocaust picture.
"Ah! Me child, have you brought da food? Me chillren were starvin! Oh Mr. Grey you are so kinds to us!"
It annoyed me. How her voice, fell into some horrible African-American cliche. Unable to talk proper English, in some ghetto, unable to work...It painted a bad cover for the story of this woman's life and kindness. My hands reached inside my jacket to pull out the three cans of food, before tossing them to her feet, watching as the cans rolled to her once they hit the floor. I closed my eyes to think for a moment before responding to my lone friend in this ghetto.
"I said I owed you Bertha. You came by and saved my life when no one else would give two shits. No one forgets unconditional kindness like that."
"You just be lucky Bertha is such a hot catch! She was on her way to a saucy date, but then she heards all the ruckus! You were luckys to be alive, you were! But dis be a day of celebratin anyway!"
She gave me a wink with a long putrid curled eyelash. I ignored the growing desire to vomit in my mouth. Although celebration...I did this every week! What was so important about today? I looked at the two munchkins and said children gave me a toothy smile. The older one with the dreadlocks was aptly named Ace. Originally she had wanted to name him Goldberg after her idol, but she decided the homage to Whoopi Goldberg would wait until she had a girl. Thank God. Her other child's name was Alex.
Weird thing wasn't it? He was unnamed for the majority of his life until I started providing this obese hooker stolen food for saving me. He lived most of his life being called child, munchkin, or rascal among other things. Then she tossed my name on her child like nothing. It made conflicting feelings in me to be honest. Happy to know he had a name, but sad that it wasn't something he could honestly call his own. He didn't mind or know better though. Maybe it was better that way. And speaking of the duo of urchins; Ace piped up.
"Hey Alex? There was this weird stranger guy in the alley. I sold him some cocaine, and then when his back was turned I hit him with a pipe! We already found a lot of money in his pockets! And I took back the cocaine!"
Drug dealing kids. Never imagined depravity would be so...depraved. I quirked a brow though at his comment, turning my head to confront Bertha with my questions.
"Define weird."
"He was like somethin out of a fairybooks! Handsome chiseled chin, blond wavy shoulder-lengthened hair. And oh those baby blue eyes! Mama was a bit disappointed he wasn't conscious when we met; or I'd had given him a discount!"
So Bertha's children had knocked out Jack, and were probably planning on selling his internal organs for spare change. Or his future consisted of being raped by Bertha day by day. I almost wanted to abandon Jack to the horrors of the ghetto for the pure hilarity of it. I rolled my eyes with a chuckle.
"Sorry Bertha. 'Fraid he's with me. Some bumbling idiot who wondered into the wrong part of town. Owe him for helping me out a bit earlier."
"As long as we can have the money in his pockets, Bertha don't care! There were hundred dollars in dat wallet! Dat impressive! Bertha gettin some new hoop earrings tonight, child!"
"...I thought he had spent all his money. Huh. And...why was he buying cocaine? He say anything?"
"Ace told him it was moon sugah! Special spice sold by witches ! And y'all know Ace! He's a crafty devil that one. Went on a yarn bout spirits! Swindled like he was a newborn, that one!"
"I presume he's inside the house? I'll go fetch him for you. Sorry for intruding on working hours, Berth."
"No problems child! You always welcomed here! You always so goods to Big Bertha..."
I gave a short wave before departing into their abode, turning a corner before I found the broken homosexual groaning on a bed clutching the back of his head. Looked like Ace hadn't done too much damage to kill the poor guy, or perhaps not even enough to do permanent damage considering the rapid recovery. Maybe it'd be big bruise, Ace always had a way of knocking people out with the first swing while minimizing damage. Sides; he'd just keep swinging until you were down anyway.
He gave a gaze up at me, blinking for a moment.
"Did we just have sex? Damn that was fast. I've got a major kink in my neck though..."
I couldn't help but grin at that. Although the sex part started me off with a frown, he was alright and for some reason I felt some kind of relief.
"Oh poor Romeo. Mugged by an urchin and none the brighter. Be glad you aren't pieces on the black market right now."
"...Ah. That shitty sugar story. Now I remember. Bought it cause he said it could make someone fall in love within seconds if put into a drink or something. Then unexpected pain. Figured slum people would be more kind to the strangers buying their cheap sugar for a few hundreds."
"Wasn't actually sugar retard. Was cocaine."
"Same thing down here isn't it?."
I took a walk around to his back, looking at the minor bruise on the back of his neck. Huh, guess Ace did the attack at last minute, maybe contemplating letting him go. Looked
like it could heal quickly enough.
"...I'll ask Bertha if she could accommodate two guests for the night. Then we'll get that stupid two week trial of yours started."
"Right-o. Looking forward to it. Although...why are you giving me a chance? I don't see what you got to gain out of it. Well besides getting to be with someone as amazing as me of course."
He had a point. But my brain caught up quickly, and easily.
"It's simple. Like you said; you're not someone who hates me. I get to spend a minor vacation away from this pig sty. And hey it's a good trial in the very end. If I can get through with this bullshit with you; I can use you as a prime example on our last day and dispel most of the rumors."
"And if you are gay? Ever thought about that?"
He had such a wide beam on his face, almost like he was onto some inside joke. Sadly I didn't find it as funny as him, knowing fully well what the joke was.
"Well...if you somehow make me gay in fourteen days...then nothing changes."
And there that warm smile on his face had disappeared, replaced by a confused, bemused and almost hurt look. It was a little sad in all honesty.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm running for my life to escape being killed on a rumor. There's absolutely no reason I'd want that rumor to be confirmed and have more people on my case. I'd be killed in a day by the gangs around here if they even catch whiff of funny shit. And even if a desire for a companion arises after you break my heart, there's no one I could turn to. You'd have fun making me feel insecure, breaking me down, and trying to build some fake confidence that'd get me killed. Then you'd leave, and life would go back to normal just with more beatings and I'd probably go back into denial out of shock if anything else."
He looked down at the thin white blanket that had fallen off his chest when he moved to feel his neck. I wondered what he looked like when he was sleeping like that. Was he like a morgue body or did he snore, ruining the illusion of death? That'd have been funny to see. Knocked out, and snoring the pain away. Not like I could do that anymore.
"Pessimist. Nobody would want that. I want you to feel good about yourself. Proud. No one should be subjugated to abuse due to their orientation. That's as idiotic as racism. We all deserve a chance for love, for...someone or something to care that we exist."
"You're a monster you know. You turn weaker men into faggots; and they cling to you. They cherish and love you. You changed their world, made them accept a side they never thought would exist. And then when they might be on the verge of telling you their undying abandon them."
I noticed the minor glimmer of light in his eyes vanish. The resistance that he believed in without a question was faltering. The silence that followed was interrupted by rainfall from the outside, and the sound of Bertha yelling at one her kids for something stupid.
"...I was like you once. I didn't believe the world could change for my wants or desires. But someone told me to make it change. If the world didn't like me; I shouldn't change for the world, but the world should change for me. Even if what I do is horrible, even if I feel guilt I keep going. I think I'm making a world of difference for other people. I don't want to think that all I've been doing is for naught."
This caused my anger to reach a peak.
"But it IS! You're ruining lives and you don't WANT to think about what you've done! You're not doing anyone a service!"
How high he raised his voice in anger...I hadn't seen him in such a rage in the brief moments we were together. It had surprised me slightly, and I couldn't retort as quickly as I would've liked to. The rain filled in the silence again before he replied once more.
"I settled down once. I had a lover. He died in an accident though, and I was left alone in the world he opened me up too. And with my new hindsight...I saw other people denying themselves and hiding away, hurting everyday. I know I take away that first chance for romance or true love. I know I'm not some kind of perfect hero. But these are people who are like you. People abused by their families, people thinking of committing suicide because they're abominations to their God. I try to turn their lives around. I try to leave them in a better shape then they started at."
My gaze peered deeply into his, his sky-blue eyes meeting my aqua-cerulean pupils. I maintained a frown before my final thought and subsequent retort emerged. Although for some reason empathy for this sin on mankind emerged from my pitiless mind. Or maybe it was some sick twisted version of sadism.
"Then this is as much as your trial as it is mine. See how much you affect me. See how much you can change me. See how much difference you can make in my life. And if you can't do anything for me, I want you to go and see how the others are coping. See what a mess you've made."
"Fine! Go tell Bert or whoever I'm staying for the night, and you better prepare to get swept off your damned feet first thing tomorrow morning!"
With a huff he brought the thin blanket over himself. The prospect of the date brought a minor flush to my face at the very notion. Anxiety built its way into my stomach, and I was dreading tomorrow despite my initial excitement to prove Jack wrong, and clear my innocence. But that conversation had turned so fast. From how he got hurt into how he felt about using others.
Being gay...enjoying such a thing. It couldn't be something that worthwhile. Being gay was against God, against my family, against society. It was taboo, and nothing was alluring to breaking a taboo like that. But he defended it so vehemently. Did...he really believe in his ideal?
How naive of him to deny the truth.
I walked to tell Bertha of her two uninvited tenants for the night.
The sun didn't even beam in during the morning, as I made coffee for the family who allowed me refuge for the night, despite knowing full well what I was claimed to be by our kind society. Jack woke up late, but accepted the coffee without a single complaint. If it weren't for an antique clock on the wall, the glass protection long since broken, we'd have no idea of what time it was due to the constant storm surrounding the city.
It was a quiet morning, with the two children playing with broken garbage, someone else's trashed toys. Trains without wheels, dolls without heads or arms. Jack's bruise had
darken over night, but the bruise had grown smaller in size. Bertha was putting on excess amounts of make-up. I sipped the coffee with a low yawn. It was some kind of friendly
"Didn't get any sleep?"
Jack had decided to ask me that, before sipping audibly from his mug.
"Insomnia. Can't sleep without nightmares."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"No you're not."
I drank the last of my beverage, and looked at Bertha's crappy coffee machine. A relic from Bertha's husband or so Ace told me. The mug Bertha drank from was chipped at the top, and pretty dirty from use; but she only drank from it alone, as if though it was a treasured relic too. Told me it used to be her husband's as well. The kindness and sentimentality you find in the local prostitutes. Astounding sometimes.
The time rolled on shortly before it was nearing eight o'clock in the morning. I gazed at Jack expectantly.
"So where we heading? Some fancy restaurant? A stroll in the park?"
"My job. Can't neglect it or put it off afterall."
I blinked incredulously. He was going to try to seduce me at...his job? I butchered livestock for a living, I couldn't imagine seducing anyone while smacking a cow right in
between the eyes. My own eyes however rolled in their sockets.
"Whatever you say Romeo. You ready yet? Almost eight."
With that he gave a nod, and clutched my hand in his as we left Bertha's. It was a firm grip like in Marty's bar when his hand was around my wrist. Except unlike before it had a sense of gentleness and it was easy to adapt to my comfort. But regardless of the ease I followed him closely, trying to push my body against his; trying to hide our hands by standing so close next to each other. I helped him navigate his way out of the alley, tossing my hood up to hide my face for now.
"What are you doing?"
I shook my head incredulously.
"Hiding our hands and my face. Don't need to get shanked this early in the morning."
My response elicited a laugh from him, and he pushed deeper into me, putting out little hand holding into a warm sandwich of sorts. It was weird and...awkward. After a few moments, I merely just released my grip of his hand. Yet Jack still had a grin on his shitty face.
"You didn't reject the advance entirely. It took you a moment before you broke-up with my wonderful hand."
"Figured I'd give it a try. Didn't feel anything. Sure you've seduced other guys before Romeo? Maybe those others broke up faster with you then I did with your hand."
I felt snide and boastful, but to my surprise and annoyance he snorted at that. I moaned as I followed him out of the slums into a more beautiful part of the city. Rain was matting our clothes and hair but we kept going without a worry. You got used to the inches pouring down on you from above quickly enough. My brain was curiously thinking on one thing though at the moment, and I decided to think it aloud.
"Hey? Jack?"
"Thought my nickname was Romeo for the evening. Yeah?"
"You said you got around a lot, especially with other men, but no one here's ever seen you...does your job get you around a lot?"
He stopped in his tracks causing me to do a quick double take on his face. It was a mix of shock and confusion. Until clarity hit it.
"Ah. I understand now! I'm a newer competitor afterall and I'm a bit surprised we haven't been attacked by fangirls by now. Guess they must be waiting for us then...a two year homecoming. Can't wait, this should be fun!"
I blinked as he stated he was some kind of...competitor? A sports person? And he had just came home after two years? This place...was his home? Well certainly not the slums at least.
"Still don't know what you do for a living."
"You'll see."
It took us a few more moments before we finally navigated our way to a large stadium. It wasn't entirely too familiar and there were a plethora of fans cheering and jeering in the stands. We had taken a longer way, through an apparent VIP access. It was extremely impressive and I glared down at the center of the field. It was a long circular road and cars were revving up, a glass dome overhead prevented rain water from falling down.
"You're a...racecar driver? That's...amazing! I loved race cars ever since I was brother used to be a racer. Always wanted to see one of his races but never had the time!"
"Oh. So just because I'm a cool racer you like me? Pssh join the legion of fangirls. You're going to get a front-row seat tho. And I have to suit up bro, so just wait a few minutes at where I sit ya down. K?"
I nodded almost a bit too happily. It was exciting and thrilling to see a race for the first time. I couldn't believe Jack had such a profession given where he was just a few days ago. I was astounded, amazed...nothing could adequately put my utter jubilation into words. It was like aone of my dreams coming true. Except it wasn't a nightmare this time!
He left me in a front-row seat and I merely listened to the announcer for a while until he returned. He adorned a black track suit, a zipper on the front leading down to the crotch area, although a minor leather covering concealed the awkward zipper. He was wearing a pair of small goggles on his head, and I giggled.
"Shouldn't you be wearing a helmet?"
"Helmets are for punks. Sides, these goggles have some importance behind them. First off being they make me look like a badass!"
He struck a dramatic pose as if to show off said badass quality. I couldn't deny they looked dashing.
"Suuuure thing Jack."
"Now you listen here, hot stuff. My car's number is 68. You cheer that number on all race, and I'm bound to win!"
I felt a minor blush at the compliment he slid in, but couldn't help but smile at the whole overwhelming sensation of it. A moment ago I was in some ghetto and now I was friends with a professional possible millionaire, watching him in some Grand Prix. How did news of this not echo into the slums? Was it really expensive to get in or was there some deeper meaning to it? I was getting carried away again, and I merely replied as snarky as ever.
"Like that'll work you idiot! You won't be able to hear me in your car."
My date laughed before clutching the handle bars of the railing, throwing himself over. I was so close to the course I could hear the other racers and pit members across the field yelling over the car engines.
"Just means you'll have to cheer extra loud!"
And with that he was off. Minutes later the race started, and the cars zipped at high-speed, veering and turning with accuracy. Each edging on forward, lapping the others, every racer eager to win. Each break-neck turn requiring a sharp reaction in order not to collide with a side banister. But it was like child's play to Jack. Several hours later into the race, he was in second place, and only one car was ahead of him craftily maneuvering itself in front of him. Their rivalry was intense and lasted through the final laps. Jack kept trying to edge past, but his competition kept pacing himself in front. I was on the railing, unable to keep myself from watching the spectacle before me, screaming at the top of my lungs as they passed with my hood flailing in the wind from their vehicles' velocity.
"Jaaack! Go, go, GOOOOOOO! Wiiiiiiiiiiiiin!"
It was like he heard my shout; alongside the audience. A abundance of fans cheered with me , throwing their own support behind Jack. Suddenly I was concerned at a new development. Jack's car had slowed down, creating a bigger gap between him and the racer directly in front. And within a moment my worry dissipated into pure joy.
Jack had accelerated on a sharp turn and took the outer perimeter. An extremely risky tactic given how if he didn't pull it off, he'd crash into a horrific mess. And he had to switch his lanes so the car in front couldn't block his advance.
And within that very moment, Jack sped past like a bullet and I could only scream and holler again as the announcer yelled how the incredible underdog; Jack Richards had taken first place. Eventually the racers all slowed down, and the track was void of the previous sports event. One by one cars stopped after their final lap and went into their pit stops. I jumped down from the railing, and ran onto the field, star stricken a little by what I had witnessed.
I met Jack's crew celebrating, tossing their champion in the air. His eyes met mine and he gave a wave as he was thrown in the air.
"How was it? Think you cheered loud enough? My crew said you were my number one fan! Woohoo!"
It had been several long hours of racing, it was exhilarating, every single minute. The sounds of exhaust and final laps, the edging on and pacing of the machines. It was heart-pounding. I couldn't put every detail into word, for the entire length of that race could only registered as amazing in my mind. The crowd cheering over head, everyone watching intently alongside me, the build up to such an amazing finale with that ace stuck in his sleeve...and not being talked about during the entire thing. No slander, no painful punches, no thrown rocks or food. It was...bliss for a lack of a better word.
Jack finally left his groupies with a joke and laughed before coming over to me putting one of his black gloved hands onto my right shoulder.
"Soooo? Did you enjoy?"
I laughed in all honesty.
"That was the most fun I've had in years! It was the most fun thing I've ever seen! That final move; that was un-freaking-believable!"
"Good! And because I won, it's time for a celebration! I'm taking you to a fancier bar than you're accustomed too. No spit in the drinks there. That alright with you?"
I grinned before slinging my arm around his back.
"Lead the way champion! All hail Jack Richards!"
"Now that's an attitude I like! Where were you hiding?"
The cheering atmosphere had infected me, and I felt a little light-headed from hours of cheering on end for everytime Jack had passed another car. I couldn't usher enough thanks for the evening. My hunger was non-existent due to how long I could go without food in those slums, and I took a moment to myself while he changed out of his outfit into the regular attire I had seen him in earlier. Same black collared shirt, and dark blue jeans that fit him so snuggly. All the time had gotten me dry too.
And on cue we went out. It was a merry way to that bar he was leading me to, jokes and laughter flooding our conversation. He called it 'Cloud Nine' or something. A loud song was playing, and you could hear it reverberate throughout the entire club, and there were people dancing wildly front and center. We sat down on some stools and a bartender came to us.
"Get me and my friend here something on the rocks! ASAP!"
And within an instant of shaking, two drinks in smooth glasses were slid our way. I rose my glass to his in a toast, before taking a long drink. He looked back to our server.
"You're more fun when you loosen up bro. Much more fun. Hey! Bartender! I'll pay twice as much if these glasses are never empty!"
I gave a smarmy smile to Jack before looking at the dancers in envy, whittling through several drinks. They were having so much fun, whooping and grinding. I wanted to do that! I felt a light warmth in my chest from the booze, some kind of false bravado. The waning hours of night only increased my desire with every drink and move.
"Hey Jack?"
He looked up from his drink, having eyed several other patrons of the bar in most likely lustful thought prior. Not like I could blame him, some of these guys were studs! I mean...whateveeer. Who careees!
"You know how to fucking dance?"
He jumped up like a spring at that, putting his drink on the table. Seemed like I hit the right button, he was grinning like a cat who caught the biggest mouse ever.
"Oh you better believe I do! Come on, I'll show you a night you'll never forget!"
I slid my alcohol on the counter and took the hand he offered to me with a grin. We went into the middle of the floor in a hurry, others letting us by, as if though they recognized Jack as a regular. He spun me around on the floor to the dubstep, and we rotated. We grinded our hips against each other in this drunken haze, this wild party. I couldn't even think why I was dancing with a guy I just met and all, but it was just so fun. I mean I had only meant to have some drinks and talk before heading home, but it just looked soooo fun I couldn't resist!
He spun me into his arms, it felt like our movements were some weird mix of a ballad and dirty dancing. But he held me so close as I danced my hip back against him. His warm strong arms covered my front as he swayed left and right, the music blazing into our ears. I was slunk a bit lower so I could rest my head on his masculine chest. I felt so...happy for some reason.
"I feel like I could do anything right now..."
Jack gave me a drunken version of his signature sexy smile.
I yelled back at him still looking up at his handsome mug the warmth in my chest still blaring.
Jack lowered his head to mine, and let his alcohol tainted lips meet mine, pushing a warm sensation onto me, it almost made me melt in the pure pleasure for the brief second I lost myself in it.
But that moment never lasted beyond that, as I screamed in pure terror of what was happening. Of what had just happened. The warmth in my chest turned ice-cold in a realization that I was drunk and being practically drinks away from agreeing to rape.
My rejection surprised Jack for sure, so the warmth of his embrace disappeared when I pushed my way out of his arms, running away from the crowd that had seen and heard my scream, and ran out into the darkness. I drunkenly sidestepped into the alleyways, sneaking into the twist and turns of the familiar slums. They kept rotating, I was incapable of walking a straight line from my intoxication, and my head kept throbbing.
Rain still showered the world in heavy bursts, and I found myself slumping by a puddle, looking at my reflection before vomiting into said puddle. Finding my nightmares more comfortable then this twisted reality, I let the nightmares of my insomnia take their course for the night, letting myself dream away in the gutters of horrific dreams.
I was in blue-painted room, covered only by the warmth of my red blanket, which I had wrapped around myself defensively. Daddy was mad at me for some reason. The pain from the buckle of his belt still hurt my backside. Mommy was talking with him about something I couldn't understand.
"Elizabeth, I'm not letting two of my sons be fucking freaks. You saw how the media got all over Chase. We had to transfer him to a private school because he was being bullied so much. And dear God, I love my children, but I can't condone this behavior! I'm getting stares at Church Eliza! Donations aren't cutting it anymore, I might be excommunicated!"
"Atlas...he's our eight-year old SON. We need to support and nurture him like Chase. There is absolutely nothing wrong with our sons! They're just making their way through life in their own way. This might just be a phase for Alex. He hasn't done anything bad."
"Damn right it's a damned phase. I'm going to beat it out of him Elizabeth. Chase is stuck in that dorm studying for his career; and Alex is going to toughen the fuck up. I cradled and loved them both, and they both do this to me behind my back! What in the fuck were they thinking?"
"Atlas! They didn't ask for this! Nobody would willingly ask for this! But this is enlightenment for them. They see the world differently and realize the prejudice someone in their position fac-"
"Atlas...he said he had a crush on a boy. He probably doesn't even know what he's saying..."
"Why can't you just give me one normal kid?"
"Oh, and this is my fault?"
"You're CONDONING the fucking behavior! You don't give a shit!"
"They're not doing drugs, banging hookers, or killing anyone. How is this supposed to be a crime, how am I supposed to think less of them? They're not just your children, they're mine too!"
"God SAYS it is! I wouldn't GIVE a single shit if they banged a hooker at this point! I'd welcome it!"
"Atlas...ever since you found your fortune in've been like this. We talked about this too; before we had kids or money; you didn't care you said you'd be there for them every step of the way if they had different interests! If they were gay, if they were into politics, if they were athetists. I thought I married an open-minded man! I had to bring that up when Chase told us he was ga-"
"THEY'RE MY SONS! My fucking sons Elizabeth, they're supposed to be my pride and joy but how can I flaunt them when they're committing sins everyday? How can I even relate to them when they're thinking of other boys their age? How can I console them or even be there for them? Chase told me he hated me before he left! I can't even father my own children without crossing God or breaking their hearts! My money's crumbling because my stocks are dying and the Church is cutting my funds because of these FUCKING kids!"
"...I want a divorce Atlas. I'm done with this. Done with you. When I tell you all you have to do is support them, you only push them away. I can't fight with you anymore, there's no passion to our romance. You won't even look at me when we make love every blue moon. I'm not taking anything beside my things. You can keep your goddamn money. You can keep custody of the boys too, but I can't watch you kill Alexander slowly. Not like Chase. I'm putting this all behind me and moving on. Goodbye Atlas Grey. I hope you're happy with God and your wealth."
I could hear mommy's footsteps echo down the large foyer, heard the large doors open and slam close. I heard daddy crying loudly in the hall, and I tucked my blanket closer to me wishing I could vanish into it. I didn't know what they were saying; but I felt like I had done something really bad...maybe when I said I had a crush on another boy? Why was it alright to have a crush on a girl, but not a guy?
Why was daddy crying so hard? Why did he hit me? Why doesn't he love me anymore?
Where's mommy going? Why did she leave me? Why doesn't she love me anymore?
What did I do wrong?


Rain poured down on my face, and I groggily opened my red eyes. I had been crying throughout that nightmare it seemed...and I don't blame myself. Using my tired muscles I pushed myself up quickly from the dirty floor, but stopped as the hangover from the alcohol intake yesterday kicked in full gear. I vomited right on the spot again. I wiped the puke off on my sleeve without a care. I painfully glanced down the alleyways I had managed to drag myself to that night. I was near Bertha's place. Lucky me.
I slowly stumbled onto my feet, held the wall for support and walked my way to the lady's home, hoping to find some refuge for now and find out what time it was. After a bit of navigating I open the door and waved to Ace and Alex Jr. who were playing in the main room. Around the corner I saw Bertha sipping a cup of coffee in her kitchen by her counter, and I grabbed a dirty cup and poured myself some of what remained, before sitting down with a loud groan.
"Child, you had that man worried! He ran around all night looking for ya! He was real apologetic bout somethin he did. You alright?"
I glanced at my reflection in the cup, looking as the ripples distorted my image, before glancing at up at her groggily. Those ripples practically echoed my belief of my heterosexuality.
"Turns out he's Jack Richards. Some Racecar Driver. Took me to a show. You know how I love cars and everything, brother used to drive racecars himself and I always wanted to watch a show. I got so into it, melted away with the surroundings just like he wanted. We went out to drink at a club. The drinks kept refilling and they tasted so much better then that swill at Marty's. I felt so light headed and happy for once in my life. We danced...he felt so warm..And oh God he fucking kissed me and I....I think I liked it for a second. Oh god Bertha, I think I liked it!"
I had put the mug to side without taking a drink, putting my elbows on the counter and clutching my head with my hands. Cradling the hangover and the tension building up in my body.
Bertha finished her mug off with a gaze at me.
"Don't blame yourself child. Yous was drunk and he some snake in the grasses hoping to get some unaware prey. You played right into his hands without thinkin. Although he was looking for you...and I offered him to sleep here for the night incase y'all showed up. He's sleeping right now in Ace's bed yah."
I looked at her in disbelief before taking a large shot of my coffee down, jolting up in a minor hurry to leave the same vicinity of that asshole.
"What time is it?"
"Six P.M. of the next day sweetie. He's been lookin for you all today too. He was worried somethin happened to you, could've gotten hit by a car, or fell off a bridge or somethin. He kept mutterin nonsense till I calmed him down. Mr. Grey I thinks you should see him. He was worried somethin sick."
"Well he made me feel sick. I'm heading home and enjoying my fucking weekend. Tell him his stupid two week trial is fucking canceled. At least until I can get my head together or something. If he feels like telling me something he can head to my house if it's so god damned important. See ya Bertha."
I stormed out, although Bertha looked alarmed and tried to yell something out to me, but I ignored her. Something about the number ten. I think. I didn't really care.
I grabbed the railing of the stairs that lead up to a section of the second floor's crosswalk. I walked across that crappy wooden and narrow pathway. My house was so close, and I could just slump away and sleep off the pain and confusion in peace. There were two hoodie wearing men leaning on the walls I passed by without a second thought. Ahead I saw three other men leaning on the wall near my house...they looked like the two I had just passed...Oh shit.
Bertha was trying to tell me about Ben not a fucking ten. Fuck. That gay-bashing gangster who extort 'protection' money from the people on the fucking streets. Little dickwad.
Lowering his black hoodie, said figure emerged as the two I had idiotically passed blockaded my only exit. His two goons blocked the other way out, and this territory maggot walked near me. His chains jingling from his ripped light pants, his Mexican skin, black hair and eyes...all of it was working together to piss me off.
"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand."
I groaned loudly, and he glanced at me with the most disgusted look anyone has even tossed at me.
"So this sinner, servant of Satan, has chosen to ignore the bible's calling against evil? Then he himself is evil beyond reasonable doubt. And thus I adorn God's armor to strike a blow against the heinous."
"Cut the bullshit Benito! You lead a fucking gang and rob people out of their money. You preach about god, but you're the worst thing in this neighborhood."
He held his hands up, feigning an expression of pain before laughing right alongside his groupies. Although I did see an eyebrow twitch at the use of his full name. Gotta love the fact you shared the name with one of WWII's Axis Powers leaders. Dipshit.
"I will not be swayed spawn of Satan. You have stated that the accusations against you were false. Thus we left you alive in doubt everytime, hoping to cleanse you of any possible sins in the name of our Holy Lord. But now we know the truth, and how little our actions meant."
"What the FUCK are you TALKING about?"
"Jack Richards. That's what I'm fucking talking about dipshit. Everyone saw the tabloid of your make-out session. Made good kindling for my fire last night after I spit on your picture."
I gazed away at the floor in pure loss. I had anticipated this, I really had. If things went awry. But it wasn't even a day or two after the first day and already I was in some deep shit. God fucking damn it. I looked at the railing near-by. Benito was busy getting off his black jacket, showing his ripped Mexican muscles, and blue tank-top. He cracked his knuckles. Fuuuuuuck I was screwed.
"Let he who has not sinned, cast the first stone."
"Shut the fuck up and fight."
"With pleasure."
It was suicide I know. But there was a chance I could get him over the railing, as small as that chance was. End this motherfucker once and for all. My ragged pants were held up by a loose leather belt, and I figured if worse came to worst...I could use it to my advantage. I ran at him though, and ducked pre-emptively. To my disadvantage he jabbed up, and his left fist connected heavily with my jaw. He completely knocked the wind out of me, making me almost stagger off balance with the blow. The pain was white-hot and searing.
I tried again, this time with a kick to his face. And like a wrestling pro, he saw it, grabbed my appendage, and slammed an elbow into the side of my leg. My bloodcurdling scream could only satisfy his sick smile. I edged back a bit near his other goonies. I saw him advance with a malevolent glint in his eyes. It was my only chance to fight back...
The belt I had slid off easy but his rapid advance...he smacked me across my face like I was a bitch before he pushed me against the very railing I had intended to use against him. He took the belt from me so quickly, and strangled me using it, air leaving my body. Maneuvering me he turned me to face him, while he was still choking me. The movement let me gaze into his gnarled smile. His knee connected with my abdomen several times, I was surprised my ribs weren't cracking. Ben looped the belt so he had one free hand to pummel me with as he choked all the air out of me.
He eventually grabbed my arm, his dirty-ass nails digging under my skin. The very strength he mustered was harsh and horrible. And right there, slowly as the rain poured down on us both, he was slowly breaking my arm from the shoulder down. He was crushing the very bone and muscles. Making it limp and useless or as best he could. And I couldn't even dream of fighting back. The only thing I did was scream and cry like a defenseless newborn.
"I heard you like fucking kisses you faggot. Well open up bitch."
I looked at him incredulously, my screaming dying down as my arm went numb from the abuse. But again my stomach felt the full-blow of his knee. I screamed, and he leaned forward before disgustingly hawking a lugi in my mouth. I vomited over myself in the second to follow. Although happily I could say I also vomited on Ben. But he had that malevolent glint shimmering in his eyes. Maybe even more brightly then before.
"You took advantage of my kindness. I offered you protection for a fee and you never paid

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