Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives)

by Hansen, Marita A.

  “How’d ja know Ash Rata?” the skinhead asked, heading for Naf.

  Rubbing his leg, Naf glanced up, then dropped the PS3 controller. “Ahhh... I-I j-just heard ’bout him. He’s a drug dealer,” he said, looking like he was going to piss himself.

  The skinhead sneered. “Yeah, and an arsehole too, but not as much as his brother. Fuck, I hate Dante. I’d love to kill that greasy Eyetie prick.” He waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, you kids play whatever, I’m off to bed, got bloody jetlag.” He turned and disappeared down the passage.

  Tag got up and closed the passage door, then sat down on the armrest next to Naf. “The Ratas are mine and Mick’s cousins,” he said, pointing at the fat boy. “But don’t ever let Kirstin’s uncle or dad know or they’ll pro’bly give us a kicking, and won’t let us back in.”

  Both Corey and Naf nodded.

  Tag smiled. “Ta. Though, I don’t know why he thinks the Ratas are Italian, but I’m glad he does. He knows me and Mick have Croatian blood, so he doesn’t realise we’re related. But the racist prick still slags us off, making Serbian concentration camp jokes. And Kirstin’s dad ain’t much better. It wouldn’t surprise me if they have Nazi crap pasted all over their rooms. If it wuzn’t for Kirstin I wouldn’t even come here, and right now even she ain’t worth it. So, let’s get outta here, cos this party blows chunks. Any of you guys got a ride? I wanna do some art.”

  “Art?” Corey asked.

  “Tagging.”

  “I’m staying here,” emo boy said. “If my stepdad catches me tagging again, he’ll lose his rag.”

  Tag laughed. “Yeah, his stepdad’s a smurf.”

  “A smurf?” Corey asked.

  Emo boy stopped playing, and glared at Tag. “He calls my stepdad that cos he’s a cop, and wears blue.”

  Corey grimaced. He couldn’t stand pigs ever since they arrested him a few months back. And it wasn’t even his fault; it was bloody Tama’s for chasing that girl. Corey hadn’t been interested in what Tama had wanted; he was just following Sledge.

  “We can take my car,” Naf piped up.

  “Sweet, then let’s blow this stink-arse place.” Tag headed for the door, then jolted back as it opened.

  Kirstin’s cousin stepped inside. Tyler glanced around the lounge, his gaze settling on Corey. Corey didn’t know how the skinhead could be Tyler’s father, because Tyler was a Greek god in comparison, no, in bloody reality, because the dude’s face and body was chiselled to perfection. Hmm... Corey’s gaze ran down Tyler’s body, then moved back to his face again, which now appeared amused. Corey felt the burn of embarrassment punch him in the cheeks then grab him by the throat. He glanced around the room, hoping no one else had noticed his cock-up. To his relief, only Tyler was looking at him, the guy’s smile widening. Corey sat down and placed a pillow over his lap.

  “Who wants a beer?” Tyler held up a six-pack, although Corey was pretty sure he had a different type under his shirt. Dressed in nicely cut pants, with a matching navy jacket over an open-necked white shirt, Tyler looked like he’d come straight from some flash party—or a fashion shoot. Corey glanced down at his grungy threads, wishing he’d made more of an effort.

  “Don’t want nuthin’ from you, Tyler.” Tag went for the door. “We’re outta here.”

  “I’d rather stay and have some beer,” Corey replied.

  Tag stopped in the doorway. “I wouldn’t take nuthin’ from Tyler. He’s a—”

  Tyler turned on Tag. “If he wants to stay, he can, so shut your trap or I’ll get my dad to shut it for you.”

  Tag looked over at Corey and mouthed something unreadable. Tyler shoved Tag outside.

  “You alright to get home, Corey?” Naf asked.

  “I can give him a lift,” Tyler piped up. He looked over at Corey, his expression hopeful.

  “Okay,” Corey replied.

  Naf smirked. “Well, ya better buy some mouthwash then.” He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, making a rude gesture with his hand.

  Corey flicked Naf the finger as his brother disappeared through the doorway with the others.

  Tyler sat down on the armrest next to Corey. “You wanna head out too? I’ve got wheels.”

  “But, you’ve just got here?”

  “You really wanna stay?”

  Corey shrugged. “It’s your place.”

  “God, no. I wouldn’t choose to live here. I moved out ages ago. So, you wanna go?”

  Corey glanced at emo boy, who was still playing the game. The guy hadn’t lifted his gaze from the TV screen to even say bye to his mates. “Okay,” Corey said, getting up.

  They headed outside, watching as Naf’s dump of a car spluttered to life. Tag stuck his head out the window and hollered obscene words at Tyler as they drove off. Tyler ignored Tag and clicked off his car alarm. Corey’s impressed gaze took in the grey Alfa Romeo. He wondered how a nineteen-year old could afford such a sweet ride.

  They got in, Corey taking the beer.

  Tyler started the engine and pulled out. “You’ve lost loads of weight since I last saw you. You look really hot now, not that you didn’t before, but you were more adorable back then. Now you’re plain...” He smiled, “gorgeous.”

  Corey felt his face flush. He needed to dunk his stupid head in ice water tonight, because everything was setting it off. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “You look different too, I remember you having long brown hair.”

  “I had to cut it for work, and anyway, I’m naturally blond. I used to dye it brown, cos I thought blond hair made me look gay.”

  Corey smiled. “But, you are gay.”

  Tyler shrugged. “I went through a stage where I didn’t wanna advertise it. My dad isn’t exactly the liberal type. But in the end I decided to tell him the truth. He yelled at me and said I was lying to piss him off, then shut himself in his room for days. He still refuses to acknowledge I’m gay.”

  “My old man hates me being gay too and insists I keep it a secret, but my mum’s cool about it. What about your mum?”

  “I don’t know where she is, she took off when I was a baby, and my stepmum doesn’t care.” Tyler stopped at a giveway sign and reached for Corey’s beanie. “You can take this off now, it’s warm in here.”

  Corey grabbed it. “No, it stays on.”

  “Why?”

  “I had an accident dyeing my hair, so I shaved it all off.” He hated people knowing about his cancer, because they always treated him differently.

  “Oh, sorry, but I bet you’re still hot even without hair.”

  Corey grimaced. He couldn’t wait to get his hair back next year, well, he would as long as he didn’t cark it.

  “What happened to your face?” Tyler asked as he turned a corner.

  Corey reiterated the story.

  Tyler laughed. “Sorry. Well, at least you didn’t do it to a bloke, they punch harder.” He glanced over at Corey. “But I wouldn’t hit you if you did it to me.”

  Corey dropped his gaze, wondering whether Tyler thought he’d gone with him for sex. Yeah, Tyler gave him a boner, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do anything about it. He’d never fucked a guy before, and he didn’t want to make an idiot of himself, and what if Tyler wanted to do something he didn’t, like rimming. He didn’t mind watching it on the internet, but actually doing it to someone... ooh yuck... no fucking way! Corey’s face dropped. Oh God, he was smaller than Tyler, which meant he was the twink. He didn’t know if he wanted to get fucked. He’d stuck a carrot up there once and even with plastic wrap it had stung like buggery. Oh... it was buggery. Guess he knew where the saying came from now.

  Tyler stopped at an intersection. “Are you alright?”

  Corey glanced up. Tyler was staring at him with a concerned expression, which made him want to pull the beanie over his face. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You look scared.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  Tyler patted his leg. “Don’t worry, Corey, I’m not gonna throw myself a
t you, I’m just happy you’re here. Though, don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought maybe we could go to my place, but if you’re not comfortable with that I can take ya home.”

  “No, it’s cool, we can go there,” Corey said, realising he needed to get out of the rut he was in. “I came to see you anyway.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, then that makes two of us. I only came to the party cos Kirstin said she’d invited you. My cousin’s got a crush on you. Sorry, I didn’t think it was appropriate to out you to her, plus she might have uninvited you. Anyway, that girl doesn’t know what she wants, cos I’m sure she has a thing for both Tag and Josh as well. If I was her, I’d opt for Josh even if Tag’s hotter, at least the other kid doesn’t have a horrible mouth on him. And Tag’s a trouble maker, not worth his pretty face or butt. Ah... I didn’t meana say that, not like I look at it, nasty’s not my taste.”

  Corey smiled, feeling a little bit better after Tyler’s long ramble. The guy was obviously as nervous as he was.

  Tyler smiled back. “You have one angelic smile. I know it’s a cliché, but it looks like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. You are so cute.”

  “I’m not cute.”

  “Yes, you are, my friends would give their right arm to be with you, and one other body part.”

  Corey pulled a face. “You’re just smooth talking me, cos you wanna get into my pants.”

  Tyler snorted, then started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Corey said, not happy he was being laughed at.

  “It’s cliché heaven tonight. But you’re only half right. Yeah, I want in, but I’m still telling you the truth: you really are cute. But, don’t think I’m only after you cos of that, you’re nice, and you aren’t pretentious like the guys I’m used to. It’s refreshing not having someone more interested in what I’m wearing than what’s under it.” Tyler smiled. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier.” His smile widened. “And I love the way you blush so easily. It’s adorable.”

  Corey covered his checks. “I can’t help it, and it’s not adorable, it’s horrible.”

  “Believe me, it’s adorable.”

  Corey turned to look out the window, feeling uncomfortable again.

  “You want the radio on?” Tyler asked.

  Corey nodded without looking at him. A rap song that Sledge liked came on. Corey wondered where Sledge was right now. Probably with his bastard brother. He didn’t know why Sledge didn’t completely cut ties with Ash. Okay, Ash looked after Sledge for a while, but hell, he’d also beaten him up twice, the last time so bad that Sledge had to be hospitalised. It wasn’t Sledge’s fault that Tama stabbed Ash’s mate. Bloody Tama, he hated the cunt after all the shit he’d caused.

  Tyler sped up as he entered the motorway, making Corey feel queasy. He placed a hand on his stomach. He also felt tired. Maybe he should’ve asked to be taken home. He closed his eyes and rested his head against on the window, quickly drifting off to sleep.

  Tyler tapped his leg. “We’re here, sleepy-head.”

  Yawning, Corey opened his eyes and glanced at the clock-radio, surprised he’d slept for twenty minutes. He lowered his head and looked out the car window, his eyes widening at the site of Tyler’s pad. Street lamps lit up the Mediterranean-styled terraced house, which had a view of the sea, the Auckland Harbour Bridge’s lights colouring the dark waters in different shades of yellow. Shit, it looked like he was in Herne Bay, the most expensive suburb in Auckland. How the hell did Tyler afford to live here?

  Corey climbed out of the car. “You’ve got one awesome place,” he said, as Tyler walked around the bonnet.

  “Thanks. Um... Can I just do one thing before we go inside?”

  Corey ripped his gaze away from the view and turned around, getting a much better one in return. Normally, he didn’t like people getting into his personal space, but right now what he was looking at was definitely worth it. Man, Tyler was a honey. “What didja say?” Corey asked, forgetting the question.

  “Whether I can do this.” Tyler grabbed Corey’s face and kissed his lips, the contact taking Corey by surprise. After a few skipped heartbeats, Tyler pulled back, leaving Corey stunned and wanting more.

  Tyler smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been dying to do that ever since I first saw you, cos you have the hottest lips.” He clicked on the car alarm, then headed for the front door, leaving Corey with his mouth hanging open.

  Corey touched his lips, shocked at how much it had turned him on.

  Tyler glanced back at Corey. “You coming?”

  A grin spread across Corey’s face. “Yeah,” maybe I will after all.

  14

  Beth

  Beth curled up on the single bed in her new room. She didn’t want to be living with her cousin, but it was better than moving back in with her parents. The I told you so’s wouldn’t be said out right, but they didn’t have to be, especially since her mother always had a look that spoke volumes.

  She started crying, feeling like Ash had ripped her heart in two, keeping one part and giving the other to Dante. But it was all her own fault, she’d betrayed him. Then to hear about what he’d been through as a kid was devastating. No wonder he had looked at her with disgust when she’d asked him to force her to have sex. BUT, she didn’t know! He should’ve told her, then she would’ve been more sensitive towards him.

  She wiped her eyes, trying her best to ignore the blaring of the telly coming from the lounge. It sounded like the walls were paper thin. Her phone started ringing by the bed. She grabbed it and looked at the number in surprise. She clicked it on. “I’m so sorry, Dante,” she blurted out before he could say a word.

  “Don’t do that!” he yelled.

  “What?”

  “No, not you, Beth,” he slurred, “Sandra won’t leave me alone.” Female giggling started up, mingling with the techno music in the background.

  “Stoppit,” Dante said. “I’m not interested. Jesus, Jesus, oh fuck, no ... oh... Yeah, yeah...” he groaned.

  Beth straightened. “What’s happening, Dante?”

  “Sandra is rubbing my...” He groaned.

  “Dante!”

  “Please come get me. My head hurts and I need my meds. I couldn’t find ’em. Jesus, Sandra, stoppit, no, oh, oh...”

  “Where are you?” Beth said, jumping up, the thought of someone else touching Dante making her go crazy.

  He groaned again, then started breathing heavily. “L-la Rock in the ci-city centre.”

  “I’ll be there soon, and tell her to stop touching you.”

  “I did, she won’t listen.”

  “Then push her away,” punch her!

  “Oh God...” Dante started moaning, then the phone went dead.

  Beth yanked on her jeans then grabbed her jacket, purse and keys off the cabinet. She ran out of the room, yelling at her cousin that she was popping out. She closed the front door behind her and jumped into her car, the bumper practically kissing the front of the flat.

  Since Josie lived in Manukau, Beth was on the Southern Motorway within five minutes, and heading towards the city. For a Saturday night the road was fairly light. Up ahead the mauve-coloured glow of the Sky Tower drew closer, the minutes ticking by and making her more and more anxious. She turned off the motorway and stopped at the intersection, double-checking her iPhone for the address. When the lights turned green, she drove a short distance then took a sharp right into a driveway. She jumped out of the car and pressed the buzzer. When no one answered, she pressed it again, getting more and more agitated. She exhaled in relief when the gates finally opened. She wondered what sort of club it was to have gates and parking, because most were just walk in ones with bouncers.

  She jumped back into the car and parked in between a flash convertible and a Maserati. Realising it was an upmarket club, she headed for the door of the two-storey building, wondering whether they would let her in wearing jeans and a blouse. But t
hen again, how the hell did Dante get into a place like this with the type of clothes he wore.

  She pressed the buzzer, hoping against hope he was waiting for her near the entrance—and that the Sandra woman had stopped touching him.

  The door pulled open, revealing a man with a top hat and not much else, his leather underwear and boots his only other attire. “Good Lord, you look just like Sandra,” he said, his accent sounding Dutch. “Are you her sister?”

  “No, I don’t know her. My friend called me to pick him up,” Beth said, not sure where to look, embarrassment taking over. “His name’s Dante Rata. Is he here?”

  The man nodded. “Yes, he’s very drunk and rather unhappy over all the attention he’s receiving from the ladies, especially Sandra, which is very unusual, considering it’s why he comes here.”

  Beth followed him inside, her eyes almost popping at seeing the man’s rear, his “cheeky” attire nothing more than a leather G-string. She focused on his back, horrified that Dante had gone to a sex club.

  She walked through a heavy red curtain and into a small room. On her left, a woman in a see-through bra was serving cocktails, while a few feet away a couple of females where dancing provocatively inside a giant birdcage, though, thank God they had their clothes on. One appeared middle-aged, while the other was younger, maybe in her early twenties. Two men were watching on the outside, their ages matching the women. More couples were seated around the room, giving the impression that at least the place wasn’t a brothel.

  Beth followed the host up a small staircase and into a darkened area where... Her eyes shot straight ahead, mortified by the scene on her left. Three women and two men were doing things she didn’t want to know about on a large couch. She thought she was kinky, but she wasn’t even in the same hemisphere.

  She walked down some stairs and into a thin, darkened room, averting her gaze when she spotted a naked woman leaning over someone lying on a rope swing. Her eyes widened when she realised it was Dante. “Don’t touch him!” she yelled.

  The woman whipped around. She looked similar to Beth with her long black hair and slim figure, although the woman’s breasts were far too firm to be real.