Whore.

Chapter 14: Zen

Mind over body. 

People say it a lot when they want you to something you're physically unprepared for. Gio used it all the time when we were training, forcing me to do more exercise reps when I complained about being too weak to carry on. Others said it to sound like they were on some sort of spiritual journey when they weren't really doing any more than they are perfectly capable of. I had seen stories of Buddhist priests who endured walking for miles and sitting in freezing pools and walking on hot coals when I was younger, and I usually felt they had received some sort of training to do all that stuff rather than that it was the result of overpowering physical limitations with the power of your mind.

Now I knew they weren't bullshitting.

Pain wrecked through me as I stepped away from the hotel room door, causing me to cramp and fall forward. I couldn't understand how I hadn't felt all this until now. I knew I was supposed to be giving my ass a break, but I had been fucked last night and I didn't feel any of this pain. Why was it happening now? Was I so horny or so loved up that it didn't register? I fell on my hands and cried a little. It hurt so much. Maybe Malone had just added to the damage and I was paying the full price. I heard footsteps running towards me and I was lifted up by a security guard.

 "Are you okay sir?"

 I didn't know how to respond. If I said yes, that would be a lie. If I said no, that'll mean that this guy would have to carry be around, which would be humiliating. The pain hit me again and tears welled in my eyes. The guard looked at me with concern and helped me up to my feet, supporting me. It was a little awkward to move as he was taller than me and trying to walk faster than I felt ready to. Somehow, we made it to the elevator and down to the lobby. Once we got out, he handed me over to a baggage handler, saying that he had to be back at his post in the camera room. I mumbled a "thank you" and tried to walk with the baggage handler, until I heard him sniggering. I looked at his face and once I recognized him, I felt horrified.

 He was the receptionist from the other hotel.

 At least he used to be. Maybe he got fired and took a job here. He was smiling smugly and looking at me. 

"Well, your sins finally caught up with you."

I gave him an angry look, but with tears in my eyes I'm sure I looked pathetic because he laughed aloud. This wasn't happening. I wanted to die. He supported me until I got outside and called a cab. I was thankful he hadn't said more, because I was ready to put a fist in his nose. I sat in the cab and looked at him. He had a smile laced with schadenfreude on his face as the cab drove off. I settled into the chair and told the cabbie to take me to Swash's place. He nodded and looked at me dolefully. I'm sure I looked terrible. Barely minutes ago, I had been admiring myself and feeling great. Now I just wanted to die. Maybe Jason's doctors could put me in a coma so I could recover. Okay, that wasn't even funny to me.

We arrived at Swash's place. I asked the driver for the time and he told me it was 07:40. I hoped Swash hadn't left yet. I limped to the row of doorbells and pushed the one for Swash's level. There was no reply so I pushed again. Still nothing. I pushed repeatedly, hoping he would answer. Still nothing. I slumped to the ground and cursed aloud.

 "Mike?"

Swash peered around the pillar from the parking area. I turned around slowly to look at him. He looked amused at first but his expression changed when he saw me. He ran over.

"Mike, what's going on?"

I groaned in agony. He helped me up and I limped with him into the building. We rode up to his level. I closed my eyes. Somehow the pain seemed to have gotten to my eyes and it hurt to look at anything. Swash led me into his apartment and put me down on the couch then picked his phone and dialled someone.