Until I Fade

by Kol Anderson

  UNTIL I FADE

  A COLLECTION OF TABOO SHORTS

  KOL ANDERSON

  Thanks to

  Louis Stevens, Amanda Eisenthal, Daniela Reika, Jen Boltz, Scott Burkett and Bev Sutherland

  for all their help and for making this release possible.

  A VERY SPECIAL THANKS TO DIANE NELSON

  FOR BEING AN AWESOME MENTOR AND GUIDE AND EDITOR.

  Copyright © 2016 by KOL ANDERSON

  Published by Kol Anderson

  Publisher's Note

  All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means, mechanical, electronic, or otherwise, without first obtaining the permission of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  UNTIL I FADE

  DON’T BE AFRAID OF THE DARK

  SLAVE

  SIN

  FUGUE

  UNTIL I FADE

  Surrounded by laughter

  Drowning in pain

  This slow walk to oblivion

  And the words stuck in my throat

  Trying to fight

  For survival

  But I’m numb

  Afraid

  It’s going to drive me insane

  When the truth is black

  And dreams are bitter

  The faint halo

  Of shattered dreams

  Says I’m alive

  But barely breathing

  I can keep up this charade

  Until I fade.

  DON’T BE AFRAID OF THE DARK

  KOL ANDERSON

  CHAPTER ONE

  The man's name was Kevin. Lying underneath him Jensen felt all two-hundred pounds of him along with the faint smell of tequila and the hint of a pine scent, wishing they could stay like this for at least the rest of the night. Of course he knew that was never going to happen. Kevin happened to have a wife and children; there was no way he was leaving them to be with Jensen, even for a single night. It was a ridiculous rule but there wasn't much Jensen could do about it.

  "Fuck," Kevin breathed as he buried his head in Jensen's neck.

  Jensen closed his eyes.

  The only way to make this moment last was to capture everything he was feeling with his mind. All the porn in the world couldn't come close to this. The way he felt now, epics could be written about it. When finally the man was done with Jensen, he went straight to the bathroom. In his heart, Jensen knew there was something wrong with this picture. He knew he shouldn't even be giving a man like Kevin the time of day but when it came to the men in his life, but his instincts usually won over. Sometimes the only way he could satisfy his body was to meet Kevin in their usual room at PRY—an underground gay club in Wentworth, Indiana. Kevin came back to the room, went to the armchair where his clothes were and started putting them on, never once stopping to glance at Jensen.

  "Kevin?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you like me?

  "Of course I like you."

  Then why won't you look at me? Jensen decided not to say this out loud from fear of scaring him off. If twenty-four years of life experience had taught him anything, it was that people didn't really care about your inner monologue. Most of the men he dated wanted their relationship to have a semblance of perfection, and it couldn't be perfect if you were constantly talking about your feelings and resentments. It made him feel like some toy without emotion, like some kind of dancing monkey, but if the dance was the only way he could get someone to lie next to him then it was worth it. Because Jensen did the same monkey dance of perfect perception with everyone, he had become an expert at hiding. He reached for the pack of smokes on the nightstand and pulled one out, carefully lit it up with Kevin's lighter. The nicotine cast a soothing layer of indifference on his nerves. "Are you free tomorrow?" he asked. "We could go see a movie."

  "Jensen," Kevin said, buttoning his sleeve. "There's something I need to talk about."

  Warning bells went off inside Jensen's head. If there was a choice to escape this conversation he would have taken it, but there was no getting away so, instead, he braced himself for whatever was coming, inhaled a lot more of the nicotine to make it possible.

  "We can't see each other anymore," Kevin said.

  Jensen kept smoking. No use getting worked up over this, no use. People don't care. No one cares. He picked up the half-empty bottle of tequila also on the nightstand and took a sip. Wiped his mouth. No need to get worked up. No need. He inhaled more smoke and flicked the ash on the carpeted floor not caring about who would have to clean up after him. Not my problem.

  Kevin came to sit across from him on the bed. "Jensen," Kevin said. "I'm sorry."

  I don't need you to feel sorry for me, that's not what I want. I want you to love me. Kevin touched Jensen's face in an attempt to soften the blow and Jensen wanted to break his fingers. But showing anything other than indifference would be a waste of time and it would make him look bad. Jensen forced himself to smile when Kevin continued to sit there.

  "Will you be okay?" Kevin asked. Jensen knew Kevin only wanted one answer to that.

  "Of course," Jensen said. "I'll be fine."

  "You understand, right?" Kevin said. "You're not mad at me?"

  Jensen checked the time, acting as though he actually had to be somewhere at two in the morning. "I have to go," he said, stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray and moving past Kevin to get to his clothes on the floor next to the bed. He pulled on the pair of jeans and then the shirt. He took the pack of smokes and the lighter and said goodnight to Kevin, wanting to win at whatever stupid kind of battle he thought they were playing as he headed out the door.

  Jensen placed a cigarette between his lips but before he lit it up he saw him. The door to the room right in front of his was open, and there was a young blonde male lying on a table being fucked by a strong-looking older guy. The young guy's eyes looked glazed over, as though he was drugged and there was a fresh bruise on his chest. When their eyes met the gorgeous blonde smiled at Jensen. He looked young, couldn't have been more than twenty, and the man fucking him was a club patron, a guy named Austin, known for his mob connections and for being rough with the sex workers at the club. Jensen had never seen the boy before, which must mean that he was new, and it was possible he had no idea who he was dealing with. For a moment Jensen was tempted to say something to the boy, warn him about Austin, but he thought better of it. And then Austin caught Jensen looking and stepped away from the boy, stark naked, to close the door all the way, blocking Jensen's view. Jensen took the cigarette from between his lips and held them in his fingers. He stared dumbfounded at the closed door in front of him, wondering why he was having trouble walking away.

  Somehow though, he managed to walk toward the bar and tossed the cigarette aside. He wanted to get one last drink before he headed home.

  "Stranger," the stunning Drag sitting next to him on the barstool said. "Let me buy you that drink."

  Jensen smiled. "Maybe next time," he said, tossing back a huge amount of the whiskey.

  "Uh oh," the Drag said. "I detect a broken heart."

  "Nice to see you too, Moira."

  "Heartbreak is the cost of doing business," Moira said. "Are you okay, Baby Boy?"

  "I will be once I get a few more of these down," Jensen lifted the glass to his lips but Moira stopped him from going all the way. She took the glass from Jensen and placed it on the counter, glared at the bartender before Jensen could protest. "If you give him anything other than Diet Sprite, I'm going to get your balls, Fat Fuck."

  The bartender grinned. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."
>
  Moira turned her attention to Jensen. "Now tell me what happened," she said. "And don't leave anything out. In fact, go slower when you're on the juicy bits."

  "There's nothing to tell."

  "Of course there is," Moira said. "I can see it on your face. You might con those stupid straight-wannabes but you can't fool Moira. Nothing ever gets past her."

  "I bet."

  "Come on precious," Moira said. "Talk to me."

  Jensen was so used to hiding his shit, now he hid it from everyone including people like Moira, people who may have been able to help. He couldn't make himself talk too much so he decided to sum it up. "I got dumped."

  "Oh honey," Moira said. "Why?"

  Jensen thought about it. "He never gave me a reason. Well, other than that he wanted to spend more time being straight."

  "Fucking cowards."

  "I don't know what it is," Jensen said. "Why I tend to attract these types."

  "Jensen," Moira said. "You need to set the bar a bit higher. Look at you! Those doe-eyes are capable of serious damage! A guy like Kevin should have been lucky to have you. You can't let these motherfuckers do that."

  "I just need something stable," Jensen said. "A guy who loves me and who I love back. Is it really that hard to understand?"

  "Most people these days," Moira said, "they're either too screwed up to be in a relationship or they're too afraid to let someone in. I'm forty, you think by now I would have met one guy who was like that, who understood me. One guy, I mean, how hard is that, right? Impossible, I tell you. People are cold and calculated. They've lost themselves somewhere in trying to be something they're not."

  "Can I please have one more drink?"

  "No, you cannot," Moira said. "I'm calling you a cab." She took out her phone and dialed a number. "Shit," she said. "There's no signal in here." She glared at the bartender. "There's never a signal in here!'

  The bartender shrugged. "Not my problem," he said. "Talk to the management."

  "You talk to the management all the time," Moira said. "Can't you do us this little favor sometime soon? I mean, I spend more time here than I do at work."

  "You work?" Jensen asked.

  "You don't think a Drag Queen can find work in this town?"

  "I probably won't get work if told them I was gay," Jensen said. "Let alone if I turned up at a job interview wearing a blue fur stole and a pair of high heels."

  "Here's a little secret, Baby Boy," Moira said. "Keep the fab suit aside for the interview. Let them hire you for your talent or whatever the fuck. Once you're in then legally they can't do anything about it because that would be discrimination, and I could slap their sorry asses with a lawsuit so hard their balls are going to jiggle all the way through Monday."

  "You tricked people into hiring you?"

  "I didn't trick them into thinking I was qualified for the job."

  "I don't see how you could have," the bartender piped in. "Seeing as the only credentials you possess are pertaining to the bedroom."

  "Shut your mouth you insolent…" Moira said. "I'm trying to make Baby Boy here feel better."

  "Can I get a drink?" Austin said, and the bartender got busy serving him. Jensen noticed Austin was shaking his right hand.

  When he left, Moira grimaced. "Did you see his hand?" she said. "It was all messed up. I wouldn't want to be at the other end of that fist!"

  "Didn't I just see him with the new guy?" the bartender said, rejoining the conversation.

  "Bambi?" Moira said. "Bambi was with Rape-Face?"

  Moira had names for everyone associated with the club. Jensen was Baby Boy, the bartender was Fat Fuck, even though he only had a few extra pounds on him, and apparently Austin was Rape Face. While she named everyone around her, there was no way anyone else could make the mistake of naming her. If anyone tried they would end up in Moira jail without collecting $200. So far, Jensen had never seen anyone not comply with the unspoken rules that surrounded the fabulous drag. Jensen thought perhaps her reputation for giving her enemies wedgies in the bathroom wasn't exactly undeserved. For all he knew, Moira was capable of castrating evil villains while they least expected it. At least that was the rumor.

  "Who's Bambi?" Jensen asked.

  "The new guy," the bartender said. "He just moved here. I think his name is Liam."

  "Someone needs to put some sense into that kid," Moira said. "Hopefully before he ends chopped up and lying in a ditch somewhere I can't go with high heels. That face doesn't belong in the ground, not yet anyway. I'm surprised he's old enough to drink, he looks about ten."

  While Jensen was trying to immerse himself in the conversation he saw Kevin walking up to a twink with a bare chest. The guy couldn't have been much older than Jensen and he had the look of someone who had one drink too many. He watched as Kevin made the usual moves on his new target, all the moves he made on Jensen not very long ago, in pretty much the same spot. Moira must have noticed him glaring at Kevin for no obvious reason. "Is that Kevin?" she said, even though Jensen was sure she knew the answer to that. "And is he whipping out his dick at fresh meat after just giving you the going-back-to-wife speech?"

  Jensen's leg started shake to shake. "I really should have a drink."

  "You're doing no such thing."

  "I might end up doing something impulsive," Jensen said.

  "I won't recommend it," Moira said. "But if you really want to then I guess I can't stop you."

  Jensen got off the barstool.

  "Break a leg," Moira said. When Jensen started towards Kevin, Moira grabbed his arm. "I'm serious, break a fucking leg if you have to. I'll back you up." Jensen went over to the twink's table where Kevin was trying his usual lines. Jensen could bet the guy had a hand on the twink's thigh under that table. He had been with the married asshole long enough to know all his tricks.

  "Jensen?" Kevin said. He looked flustered. "I thought you left."

  "And I thought you were going back home to your wife and kids?"

  The twink looked strangely at Kevin. "What's he talking about?"

  "Did you know Mr. Hotshot just dumped me in there," Jensen said. "Told me how he wanted to go back to his family and sort things out. Told me he liked me and all but that he was trying to be a good husband. Also, he's not really forty, as he'll try to convince you, but fifty-two. I've seen his driver's license. You can check if you don't believe me. Not to forget he's got a tiny dick. Again, feel free to check if you don't believe me."

  The twink got up, no longer interested. "We had a good thing," Kevin said. "Why're you acting this way? Didn't we have fun? I thought you liked me."

  "I thought I liked you too," Jensen said. "I thought you were a good person but, man, you turned out to be one hell of a prick. You couldn't even wait a whole hour before moving on to the next guy!"

  "So?" Kevin said. "We're not married. I'm allowed to have fun!"

  "Fine," Jensen said. "Then have fun. Just don't make it look like you and I had something real going on. And if you have to dump someone, do it before you've fucked them." Jensen wanted to go classic and fling Kevin's martini at his face, but he decided this was enough for the night.

  "Moira," Jensen said when he got back to the bar. "I should probably head to the proverbial dump that is my home."

  "Enough drama for one night?"

  "Enough drama period."

  "How will you get home?"

  "I'll take a cab."

  "Will you find one this late?"

  "If not I'll make a call from my phone when I'm outside," Jensen said. "What about you? You want to split the fare?"

  "Some other time, Baby Boy," Moira said. "I have to wait to see if anyone is willing to split my ass before I have to split the fare." She winked.

  "I'll see you," Jensen said.

  "You bet your perky little ass you will."

  Outside the club, Jensen took out a fresh cigarette and lit it up. He stared at the lighter that belonged to Kevin. Moments ago he had been happy to use it, the warmt
h from Kevin's fingers still lingering on the metal. It was just another way to connect to him. Now though, the lighter looked fake and undeserving of being anywhere near him. Jensen chucked it hard at the ground and it broke next to Jensen's boot, causing a tiny explosion. When he got tired of waiting he decided to walk back home, thinking it might do him good, bring some calm to his frantic mind. He took out his phone and the first thing he did was delete Kevin's number. After that he went into his text messages and deleted every message in there. It was the closest he was going to get to a fresh start.

  "Excuse me?"

  Jensen stopped. A woman stood right behind him wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a shirt that showed off a giant scorpion tattoo on her midriff. She was wearing heels that made her appear taller than Jensen.

  "Can you tell me where this address is?" she asked, showing Jensen a piece of paper. "I think I might be lost."

  Jensen took the piece of paper from her hand. "This is close to the gas station," he said, pointing. "You're going the right way."

  "Thanks," the woman said. "You seem like a nice guy. Which is why I'm going to hate doing this," her face contorted and her eyes began to glow. When she opened her mouth she had grown fangs. Jensen dropped his phone. He wanted to run but for some reason he stayed glued to his place. The woman was looking into his eyes. "Come quietly," the woman said. "And you won't get hurt."

  Saying this, she started walking toward a black van parked across the road. Jensen couldn't stop himself from following her into the van. He kept screaming to his brain to allow him to flee, but his brain only did the opposite. Inside the black van were two more of those creatures and when Jensen got in, the van sped off toward some unknown destination.

  "Where are you taking me?" Jensen asked, his lips tight. Had he finally lost his senses? But his senses seemed to be working fine. He could still feel the fear; he just found himself unable to do anything about it. "Where are you taking me?" he said louder this time.