The Memoirs of a Rent Boy 1/3
title: The Memoirs of a Rent Boy 1/3
author: me, geek_revenge
rating: 13+
pairing: frerard among others
pov: Frank, for now
summary: "I'll write my fucking memoirs when I'm a hot shot writer and tell people about this. I'll sell them my life like I sell my ass. Fuck 'Memoirs of a Geisha', here's the 'Memoirs of a Rent Boy'. What a fucking best seller."
disclaimer: I own nothing but your heart
warnings: prostitution
author's notes: This is an older one that I decided to start posting here.
The Memoirs of a Rent Boy
Frank
I can't believe that this is where my life has gotten me. I have never had high self-esteem, but this is the deepest shit I have ever gotten myself into. I despise myself right now, and that's the underestimation of the fucking decade. I can't even look at my own reflection anymore.
Well, I'm seeing my reflection in a puddle of water, piss, vomit and whatever this fucking filthy street is covered in so I guess it wouldn't be a pretty sight even if I had the guts to face myself and what I'm about to do.
It rains like hell and I've only got a t-shirt on. I can only imagine what I must look like standing here on this fucking alley with the rest of us, winking suggestively to every car passing by. Except for the cops, of course. Oh well, I used to think the cops meant trouble, until one of them picked Ben up yesterday. And not in the arresting-kinda way.
Ben. He's the only one who talks to me around here. He's a girl. All tight pink and swaying hips, 'honey', 'love', 'babe' and other expletives coming from his glossy lips. For the sake of his own sanity he insists on being called 'Ben' even though he looks like he could share a name with some stripper (though if you pay him enough, he'll let you call him whatever you can think of). It reminds him that this is not who he really is, or at least used to be. That this is not permanent.
He kind of got me here, to be honest, but I'm not blaming him for anything. He only introduced me to a new way of making money. This is all entirely my own fault. And yeah, maybe I'm allowed to blame that motherfucker who I cannot call my father anymore for some of this too. But anyway, it was my own decision to come here. Well almost. Hell, it was my own decision, because unlike most of us, I work for myself.
Some business I'm running here. Fuck.
Well, Ben is his own boss too. At least in the way that he doesn't work for a daddy or something. But he definetely isn't in charge of his life either because of his addiction. He's a crack whore, but don't call him that. Only he can call himself that.
Still most of the time he still denies his dependency on drugs and money. Well, mostly drugs because that's where all of his money goes and then he's left with nothing. So the cycle begins and soon you'll find yourself selling your ass on this same shitty alley year after year. If you survive that long, that is. Ben has been doing this for some months now, so he's experienced. It's not what he had planned though; he was only supposed to earn enough money for him to get the hell out of this fucking rotten town.
He didn't even make it to the other side of this city.
But I'm going to make it. I'm not staying here half a second over the time that it takes for me to raise enough dough for a ticket to New York and something to get started with there. I'm not gonna end up like Ben because I'm not addicted. I'll leave this shithole with the first chance I get. I'd love to help Ben out too, but he's too deep in this shit and I couldn't afford it.
I'm going to fucking make it, that's what I keep telling myself in my head to stay sane. I will get through this, and after that I can leave this repulsive chapter of my life behind and make my dreams come true. New York New York New York. Maybe I'll write my fucking memoirs when I'm a hot shot writer and tell about this.
Fuck yes, that's exactly what I'll do, and I'll sell millions of copies of it. I'll sell my life like I sell my ass. People love to read social porn like that. Fuck 'Memoirs of a Geisha', here's the 'Memoirs of a Rent Boy'. What a fucking best seller.
"You're freezing, love", my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Ben.
"I'm...fine", I muttered even though I didn't sound very convincing. He was right, I was soaking wet and freezing my fucking brains out.
"Look, I'm leaving for a little...drive..." he winked with the hope of receiving money glowing in his eyes, "but you can have my jacket, it's not like I'll be needing it now...that rich motherfucker has air conditioning in his car..." he continued and handed me his coat.
He started walking towards the car.
"Good luck, love! I'm sure you'll get richer tonight, Frankie. You look cute", he called on me as my face flushed with anger. I had told him not to use my real name at 'work'. I didn't want this to have anything to do with my real life and the real me.
"...Oh shit I'm sorry I called you..." he muttered with a quiet list of curses following.
"It's okay...and...thanks. You should charge that fucker extra, he looks pretty rich. And stupid." You couldn't really be mad at Ben for long.
"Aaaww, Fr...LOVE, you're learning ! Hey, take care of my jacket!" he yelled just before he climbed in another car with darkened windows.
I put on the jacket he'd just given me and felt, if possible, even more humiliated than before. It was a real whore jacket, but the kind that girls usually wear. It was black with faux fur on the sleeves and the collar. I hoped that Ben would be okay, that he wouldn't have to do anything too gross. I only started on the street two days ago, but I've heard horrible stories. I haven't done much yet, I've only had one guy do the whole thing. I don't even wanna think about it. It was yesterday and without getting too detailed, it certainly wasn't pleasurable. For me, I mean. He seemed to feel a bit differently.
I'm just lucky I can shut my mind out and just let my filthy body do the works while my mind is floating in it's own world clueless of what is happening in the body. Not everyone can do that, but I've always been pretty good at denying the truth and dreaming. But of course this leaves a mark. I don't think I'll ever think about sex like I used to. The whole fucking thing is ruined for me.
I just hope today will be different than yesterday.
{...}
Cars keep passing by, many of them slowing down and picking boys up, but no-one seems to be interested in me. It's weird; as much as I despise what I'm doing, it kinda insults me that they don't want me, but some blonde blue-eyed surfer. Like, what have they got that I don't? Okay maybe the looks, but I'm supposed to be the kind they want; young, small and big-eyed.
Fuck, maybe it's about the eyes. Maybe they can see from my eyes that I don't want to be here. Maybe my appearance scares them. On the other hand it's a good thing: they leave me alone, but then again I need the money...
My thoughts were interrupted with a loud screeching sound of a car horn assaulting my ears. I noticed a black car parked on the other side of the alley and the person in it was yelling something. My way. The headlights of the car were blinding me a bit so I didn't see much.
"You hear me, pretty boy, what?" a deep voice yelled again.
Okay, Frankie, now's your chance to get some money. Hold your breath and count to ten, then walk over there and do your thing. New York New York New York...
I dragged my ass over to the car with faked confidence and a face that said 'nothing can hurt me'. Oh how wrong it was. I was fucking vulnerable.
"What is it?" I asked as I swung my hips. I was now only a few feet away from the car and could see the man inside it. He was dark, in his mid-fourties and a little on the heavier side. He was wearing sun glasses even though it was night.
"You wanna have some...fun?" I asked him with a voice that sure as hell wasn't mine. I had my eyes half closed and I licked my lips. In normal circumstances it would've looked absolutely ridiculous, but in street business it worked like magic. Just a little trick that Ben had taught me.
"How much?"
"Well, I've got class, but for you I'd say 50$ for half an hour."
Haha that's what I always say. 'For you'. Like there would be anything special about those sick bastards. And I sure as hell didn't have class; I blew guys for little money in back seats of their cars. But you couldn't ask more on the street.
"Sounds like a lot, boy. You worth it?" he dared to question me.
"Like you can't even imagine", I whispered and leaned closer.
"Get in the fucking car then, boy", he ordered and after one deep breath I climbed inside.
"So you swear you're clean then, pretty boy?" the man grunted.
"Yeah, sure as hell am. No rubber, no action with me" I informed him.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked fighting to keep the suggestive, seductive confident face. To tell you the truth, this man was already scaring me.
No answer.
"Excuse me! Where the fuck are you taking me?" I started to panic. I'd heard of some fucked-up shit that boys like me had to go through, apparently the Crime investigation department wasn't an unusual sight partoling our streets. I just didn't want to end up like one of those cases.
"None of your business. And mind your language, boy."
"Um...sorry but I think it kinda is my damn business if you're gonna fuck my ass or whatever you were thinking---"
My sentence was cut when I felt a sharp slap on my face. That bastard! I'm getting the hell out of this car this very second! I reached for the door, but the fucker had locked it!
"Shut your mouth or you'll end up worse."
Oh, so maybe he was one of those guys? Ben had told me about the type. Why didn't I get it right away?! He just likes it rough and wants me to put up a fight! Ben said they give extra. New York New York New York...
"Oh, you like it rough then?" I whispered. I had no clue what I was supposed to do. Probably it will be more like him doing things and me taking it. Oh my god.
Again he didn't answer.
Suddenly he stopped the car in front of a seedy motel. Shit, couldn't we just do it in the car so I can leave? He got out of the car and soon I could feel him dragging me violently by my hand through the motel doors. He got the key and the lady at the reception mentioned something about him and 'his son'... That woman was either blind or paid to be blind. Yeah, sure this guy was about my dad's age. Except that I don't have a dad. And come on.
I followed the man to the last room on a dingy hallway and as soon as he had locked the door, I was pushed against it. Hard. Shit, this motherfucker better pay me well...New York New York New York...
"Ungh! No need to push me that hard, mister..."
"Shut up".
"Oh..."
Fuck, I guess there's no point in fighting back. I got myself into this situation, I'm the only one to blame. Me and my big mouth. I say things before I think them through and then I get into trouble. I hurt people. Like what happened with my dad. Well, that one was his fault too, but I'm sure I'd still have a home if only I had kept my damn mouth shut...
"My son can't be a queer! Don't you get it, you're insulting the whole family! We'll be a laughing stock if people find out about this disease of yours!"
"Oh my god, how can you be so fucking narrow minded? It's not like I can choose if I'm gay or not!"
"Of course you can choose, you have to make a sacrifice for this family and end this nonsense!"
Owh! Why does he have to keep slamming me against stuff? It fucking hurts! I can't understand how someone is getting off on this. I'm not gonna cry. I'm not giving him that pleasure.
"Make a sacrifice? For what? Are you trying to get me involved in your sick games? Hell no, I'm staying as far away from that shit as possible!"
"Frank Anthony, it's time you did something for this family. Your mother has pampered you into a spoiled brat! Besides, liked it or not, you're already involved in the...family business. They are no games, Frank. Far from it."Okay this is just humiliating. Can't I just get my clothes and go? Ow..."Yeah? Well I think it's all just a sick killing game for old motherfuckers like you who can't get over some ancient fights! And I'm never gonna join your pathetic little club!"
"YOU, my son, have no CHOICE! You will follow the family tradition and continue the revenge against our enemies the Di Meras!"
"The DiMeras ? Haha this is just great!"
"So you have understood that it's important that we get our revenge to them? Maybe you're not hopeless after all, now all you need to do is forget about the---"
Aaargh! That sadistic bastard! Give me some warning before doing that, please? Jesus.
"No no no, I mean...I'm not joining you in the DiMera head hunt, but I wouldn't mind you hurting Joey..."
"Their son...where do you know him from?"
"Well I kinda fucked him but then he just left me..."
"You WHAT!? You've been ---sleeping with the enemy? This is IT, first I'm going to shoot that bastard and when I come back you better have disappeared! You're not my son anymore!"
"Oh well that was the best news in a long time!"
"I mean it. You either disappear and we pretend you never existed, or you die. From my hands. Your choice. I'm not covering for your fuck-ups anymore."
"Fuck, dad, so you actually do have a heart?! Well I never wanted a part in this fucking Sopranos parody anyway!"
"Just leave, and never come back!"
Never.
"Never...", I gasped, as the man was finishing. At least I hope he was.
I guess he's finished with me because he just shoved me off the bed. Almost hit my head on the fucking table, does he want to murder me or something? Then again he almost did already...I swear a part of me just died. Parts, maybe.
So I got dressed, which was painful because I had bruises forming all over me. Not to mention other places...
"Can I have my money now? You know there's this kinda...rule that...you know. Rough means extra money" I told him.
He got up now totally ignoring me and started digging his wallet from his pockets. He found it and took a bill out and handed it to me.
"Yeah, thanks but this is only half of what we agreed on", I pointed out.
"No, you said 50$, I give you 50$ no more than that".
"I said 50$ per half an hour! This took a whole fucking hour! I'm not leaving until you give me my money!" I yelled frustrated. Now I felt like crying because, really? Was this all for nothing?
"Oh I think you will", he just said like it was nothing.
"Or fucking what, you'll rape me? Cos I think you already did!"
I should've kept my damn mouth shut once again, because this sent him over the edge. He pushed me against a wall and hit my jaw with his enormous fist. Before he could punch me for the second time, I ducked and ran to the door, slammed it behind me and ran. Away from the hallway, away from the fucking motel.
Away.
a//n: Cliche and crap, I know...not dark enough and not...good. But this is an old one posted just to amuse you guys, so. Tell me if you liked (: