by Kol Anderson
“You’re a fucking whore, Sam.”
Once I started, I couldn’t stop laughing.
***
The girl at the reception desk made me wait for an hour before Alex showed up. The minute I saw his face, I felt something. Something I didn’t feel for anyone else. He was the guy who had stuck by me when I was growing up, he was a part of me in so many ways and I can’t explain it but I felt happy every time I saw him. Too bad Alex wasn’t quite as elated to see me. “Why are you here?” Was the first thing he said.
“You weren’t picking up your phone,” I said.
“That’s because I was at work,” he said. “They called me out of a meeting.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just really wanted to see you.”
“I thought you were hanging out with Isaac for a while.”
“I don’t think I ever want to see him again.”
“You don’t mean that,” he said. “Two days from now, you’ll forget the fight and you’ll be back with him.”
“He called me a whore,” I said, and I started laughing. “That’s funny don’t you think?”
“Sam,” he said. “I have to go.”
“I came all the way here. Can’t you give me some time?”
“Do you need money?”
“I don’t need money!”
“Are you alright?”
I wanted to tell him I was far from alright. That there was an enormous pile of guilt, pain and every other emotion that I couldn't name and didn’t even want to think about sitting on my chest. I wanted to tell him I was tired of carrying it alone. “I’m fine,” I said.
“In that case, I’ll call you okay?”
I kept hoping he would change his mind. “Please,” I said. “Five minutes.”
“Sam,” he said. “I’ll call you.”
I watched as he went back to wherever he had come from.
***
How is it that we claim to be experts on other people’s affairs yet know so little about ourselves? If I saw someone doing what I was doing, I’d tell that guy to get his shit together. There are smarter ways to handle a situation, but back then I was living life like it was an obsession, as though I needed to make every minute count for something or else I’d be at a loss. I didn’t know why I felt that way, but this desire to constantly have some control made me do the worst things. Come to think of it, the less control I had over a situation, the greater the illusion of power. Even hooking started out as something I didn’t want, and then it became a survival tactic until it started taking over my life. It was hard to separate rented love from real love and I just couldn’t see the difference. The cold way in which Alex behaved that night, without regard for what I was going through, it should have been my wakeup call.
Instead, I found the sleaziest client I could find and spent the night with him.
***
He wasn’t bad looking, just plain. And he wanted me to lick his boot.
“What?”
“What’s the matter, slut?” he said. “Am I not paying you enough? Get down and do as you’re told.” It was too late to get another client and so it was either having no release and going home with the same shit I’d been carrying around all day, or do something that would make me forget.
I went on all fours, started licking the top of his boot, and made the right gestures. Then slowly, I took off the boot, rubbed his foot. I started licking it and he started making the kind of sounds most guys make when you’re sucking their cocks. After a long time of sucking on his toes and then doing the other foot, I worked up to his cock and started giving it the same treatment that I’d given his feet. The sounds coming from him this time were just as needy as before, if not more so. “Keep going whore,” he said.
Everything suddenly became clear to me in the form of an epiphany.
My mother died three days ago and I’m blowing some trick.
I'm right, Isaac is right, this pervert making me suck his cock is right.
I am a whore.
Chapter 7
Dangerous Liaisons
For the first time Aiden took me someplace other than a hotel. “Not nervous are you?” he said, as we drove up to the apartment complex.
“I’m fine,” I said, despite the fact that going on any new adventure made me nervous, I think that was part of the fun just as much as the actual sex. There was something about the whole ordeal of meeting strangers that made me feel alive.
“Let’s go,” Aiden said and got out of the car. We went up to the third floor and Aiden led me to an apartment and knocked. The door was opened by a guy in a suit. He greeted Aiden and looked me over so I gave him a smile just to be polite. Aiden held my hand and we went inside and the man closed the door. Inside, there was a bit of a party going on. About four guys who wore the same kind of formal business attire, as if they were just back from a meeting. They were all doing drugs, there was coke on the table, and one of them was using his credit card to cut lines on a flat mirror placed on the table. There was music in the background, and drinks in all of their hands. Aiden stayed close to me, took me over to the couch and introduced me to everyone. They were all very polite, albeit a little high and acting a little strange. Aiden got me a drink, and sat down with me, his hand caressing my thigh. I was getting a little more nervous than I was before so I finished the drink in record time, hoping it would help calm the rising panic. Aiden took the glass from me and kept it aside and he started kissing me. Everyone else was sort of watching us, and I tried to keep my focus on Aiden.
This nagging feeling hit me that something wasn’t right.
“Aiden,” I said, trying to get his attention because there was this strange warmth growing inside me, causing the whole world to look like a dream and making me dizzy. But Aiden was busy trying to get my shirt open and then he unbuttoned my jeans, slid a hand inside. He was still kissing my neck and then he pushed me a little on the couch, and I had to rest my head against its back because I was too tired to keep my head up. “Aiden… some… something’s wrong,” I tried to tell him but he just shushed me, said everything was going to be okay. For a while everything around me looked unreal, and I wasn’t exactly scared though I had a sense that I should have been. I felt so sleepy that I wanted to close my eyes, and I had a feeling that wouldn’t be such a good idea but there was no choice because my eyes just wouldn’t stay open.
***
I dreamt that Aiden and his friends were trying to fuck me. But dreams don’t actually hurt, do they? So why was I was constantly trying to get away from the pain? This one guy, the one who opened the door for us, was the worst, making me do things I can’t even talk about.
***
I woke up on the floor face down and I couldn’t feel anything other than the pain. It was hard to even get myself to stand because my legs were weak and the pain just kept getting worse. I could barely move my jaw it hurt so much, and I still felt dizzy but the haze was starting to wear off and the one thing I knew for sure was that I needed to find a way out of here. I found my pants on the floor and put them on, saw that Aiden was passed out on the couch. The exit couldn’t have been far but at that time it seemed like a million miles away. When I finally made it to the door, someone grabbed me and pushed me into a wall. “You don’t know where we live,” he said. It was the same guy who had answered the door earlier. “You don’t know anything about us, do you hear me?” I just tried to make sense of what was happening and trying not to think about how frightened I was by this guy.
“Do you hear me or not?” he said, angrier this time.
“I… I won’t say anything.”
“You can go now,” he said. “But if you tell anyone, we’re going to pay you another visit.” He let go of me and went off. I took one last look at Aiden, still sound asleep and made it out the door.
***
I couldn’t walk any further than down the stairs to the street.
I sat on the sidewalk, hoping for someone to walk by and help me
because I didn’t have my phone, but there was no one there. My body felt strange, and the pain was getting decidedly worse.
***
The person who found me on the sidewalk said I was passed out. I don’t remember it. I just remember waking up in the hospital. The doctors called my emergency contact; Levi from the club and for a strip club owner, Levi was pretty nice about everything. He said nothing, just put me in his car and drove me home, came all the way up to my apartment and helped me get to my bed. I had a high fever by then, and I could barely stay awake. Levi brought me some water and placed it on the nightstand and placed the medicines there so I would remember to take them. “Look,” he said. “I wish I could stay here. But I have a wife back home and she’s pregnant.”
I said nothing.
“I’ll come by and check on you tomorrow,” he said. “Just rest up, okay.”
I heard him leave the apartment and close the door. Loneliness hit me like a giant pile of bricks. I was alternating between self-pity and remorse. From somewhere came the realization that all of this was in fact my fault and that no one else was to blame.
Chapter 8
It Hurts
I spent the next three days not even wanting to get out of bed. I suffered through the fever somehow, and eventually the medicines worked but I still had to deal with the rest of it. Emotionally, I was just numb, couldn’t feel a thing. Not even guilt. Nothing. The emptiness was the worst part. I wanted to feel something: anger, hurt, sadness. These were feelings that I was familiar with, that I could work with and actually do something about but I didn’t know how I could bring them back. It was almost like I had exhausted my body’s natural emotional reserves.
The evening of the fourth day, Isaac used the keys to my apartment that I had given him and let himself in. I was still in bed, exhausted even now, but not crying, not caring. I just wanted to stay that way till eternity and when Isaac came and ruined that plan, I started to feel a little of that anger again.
“Sam?” he said, and I could tell that he was surprised to see me like that.
“Go away.”
“Tell me what happened,” he said, coming over to the bed.
“Please,” I said, but I didn’t have the strength to do anything else. Not to argue with him or even to ask him to leave.
“Either you’re telling me, or I’m going back to Levi,” he said.
I wondered how much he knew, how much he had figured out on his own and how much Levi had told him. “Sam,” he said, when he didn’t get a reply. “Do you… do you work at Levi’s club? The apartment, all this… it can’t be just from the dancing. Is that why you’re always keeping secrets from me? Do you…”
Whore yourself out to men who don’t deserve it? “You can just tell me,” he said. “I won’t be angry. I just want to hear it from you, that’s all.”
“Please don’t make me say it.”
There was silence. Isaac was trying to get past this, but I know he won’t be able to that easily. But because I’m hurt I think he tried to push past his anger. “Levi says they found traces of Rohypnol in your blood.”
“It was a mistake, alright? Shit happens. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, you look fine.”
I felt like all that talking had further used up my energy and there wasn't enough left to say another word. But it was obvious Isaac wasn’t going away. He came over to me and sat beside me on the bed. “How are you, really?”
Suddenly, the emptiness that I had been feeling before started to melt away like the damned polar ice caps and the familiar choking sensation at the back of my throat strangled me. “I’m fine. Please, leave me alone.”
“Are you seriously so arrogant that you can’t ask for help?”
I don’t answer. I don’t want the choking to turn into actual tears, it won’t do me any good and frankly I’m a little afraid what crying will do to me, of what will happen if I allow myself to feel the pain that my brain had been trying to block out, hiding it in some faraway corner of my mind. Maybe my brain was doing that for a reason. Maybe Isaac just needed to shut up and let me deal with it in my own way instead of prying. But as much as I wanted him to leave, I wanted him to be there too, needed his help.
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?” he said. “Less than a year ago, when I saw you in Cabo for the first time, you were a different person, Sam. Why’re you doing this to yourself, is this what you really want? You want to end up in some ditch and get in a situation where no one can save you, that’s your choice, and I can’t stop you. But I won’t be the guy who stands by and watches it happen.”
He stood up when I made no attempt at answering him. “You don’t believe that I’m capable of helping you,” he said. “Is that it? You think I’m going to just leave you? That will never happen. I know that’s what you think is going to happen because the people in your life have made you believe it, but I’m not one of your tricks. I’m just the guy who’s madly in love with you and I don’t know why you can’t see it.”
I turned my back toward him, afraid I might not be able to keep up the silence for long. The tears were finally starting to flow too.
“You still have time,” Isaac said. “I know it feels like this is you now and there’s no way you can change, no way for you to make your life better, but that’s not true. And you don’t have to do it alone, I can help. I can help you figure all this out and I can be by your side, but I can’t do it if you’re not willing. Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom to get back up. Let this be your rock bottom. Don’t… don’t do this to yourself. Please, I’m begging you.”
“Go away.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’m leaving. If you ever feel like you can give this thing between us a chance and you think you can give up being Sin for our sake, let me know. You know where to find me.”
As I listened to Isaac taking confused steps toward the door, I wondered if there was some truth to what he was saying. What if he was the love of my life and I was giving up on it simply because I was too afraid to even give it a chance? When did I become that person? When did I become so afraid of a real relationship that I wouldn’t even try? Was I supposed to just keep living my whole life without trusting anyone because a few people had wronged me?
It didn’t seem fair.
Sin was getting out of control.
He had been taking over my life. Suddenly, it wasn’t just a fake hooker name, it was an alter ego and like any alter ego he wanted me gone because that was the only way he would survive.
Was I going to let him?
Was I going to allow him to take over because it was easier or simpler or because it gave me some false sense of security? I mean it was false, wasn’t it? And then it dawned on me that Sin doesn’t feel hurt. He feels nothing but the thrill of the human touch, it’s the only emotion he’s ever felt. Sam is the one who’s suffering, because I’m the one with the guilt, with sadness and remorse, human feelings that my reckless alter ego doesn’t seem too concerned with, but feelings that are breaking me apart from the inside and hurting me worse than anything else ever has.
That leaves us with only one conclusion:
Either I survive, or Sin does.
Chapter 9
Antithesis
I was talking to Levi at the club when one of the waiters came and told me someone was waiting for me by the booths. I said goodbye to Levi and walked out of his office, went to where the person was waiting for me.
“So this is where you work?” my father said, staring at the near-nude go-go dancer gyrating above the bar counter.
“I don’t work here anymore,” I said. “Just came to settle things.”
“You wouldn’t pick up your phone,” he said. “I had to get creative.”
“I didn’t realize my absence would affect you that much.”
“It got a bit awkward that last day we talked,” he said. “I had to make sure we didn’t leave things like that. I waited for you to call me back, but I guess you l
ead a busy life.”
“Ironic,” I said. “When I was the one who used to wait for my father’s call all day just to find out he’s busy with some client and doesn’t have time for me.”
“It is ironic,” he said. “Times change. People change, Sam. I know I haven’t been the best father to you, but I’m trying to get better. I don’t want to abandon you now like I abandoned you before just because it’s easier for me.”
“Isn’t that going to upset your real family?”
He looked at me again, with those intimidating blue eyes, reminding me of all the previous times that I had been under his scrutiny and felt uncomfortable. “Can we talk?” he said. “Someplace less—”
“Gay?”
“I was going to say noisy.”
“There’s a diner close by.”
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” he said. “I’m a little tired from roaming around all day having meetings with people I didn’t want to see in the first place.”
So we went to where his car was parked outside, and it was the first time he was driving it himself. He made small talk all the way to his hotel and when we finally got to his room, he poured two drinks and placed one in front of me. I took it, just to prove that I had no qualms about drinking in front of him. He sat next to me on the sofa. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he said. “I know I’ve been a terrible father and you have every right to loathe me, but ever since your mother died, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I wanted to talk to you before, but you didn’t want to see me. Plenty of times I told myself I should stop thinking about it, but I couldn’t, so I had to seek you out.”
“What do you want, Dad?”
“You’re back to calling me Dad?”
“It’s just a stupid word.”
