Bleed To Me

Chapter Three: Club Life

James POV

INTRO:

If your brain is on fire but everyone around you is fine, does your problem matter? The answer is probably not. Or at least that's what i've been taught within my sixteen years of hell. During my routine of running from cops, battling stress with dull weapons i've realized is alcoholism and drug abuse, relying on possible pedophiles for structure, and stealing the clothes on my back; not once has anyone asked me " Hey buddy, are you doing okay? " Maybe my bruised skin and bones scare them away instead of drawling them forward. Maybe the bags under my eyes threatens their greater place in life. I wouldn't know, because i've never gotten close enough to figure out what goes through the brain of someone who's got it easy. But if someone needed help on their psychology paper, I could list all the symptoms of border line personality disorder: it begins with neglect and ends with death. Let your professer see that, and I can bet you that his crooked grin will replace that F you got last semester with an A.

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I grunted as I fell off the top of the fence, a rock digging into my shoulder blade. I was up and running again despite the pain. Jumping over tipped trash cans, dodging people going on a harmless stroll, taking even breaths to keep the sting in my throat bearable. I know I can lose these cops. I've done this so many times that I could paint this entire city from the rats to the rent boys. The rent boys would be because I am one, and that's the reason I'm running from these pigs.

After splashing through puddles and scraping my knees, I finally lost them. I leaned my weight against the brick building and slid down onto the wet pavement. The feeling of my lungs screaming at my chapped lips to not deprive it of the fall air was all too familiar, but I liked it. My gaze went up to the gap between the two brick buildings and the grey sky filling it's void. If only I were looking at this same sky, but different location, different body, and different life. I could be looking at this sky with passion and love. Instead, I'm looking at it with regret and sorrow. For that, my dear sky, I apologize.

I looked at my cracked watch for the time. 4:56 PM. Even after a run in with the cops I manage to maintain my original schedule. I guess I'm not as much of a mess as I thought I was. Although, I could still use a hand that of present time is not available.

- Four hours later -

I kissed the man's neck, a light trail down to his collar bone. His breathing got heavy and he grunted as I rubbed my plump ass over his crotch. I unbuttoned his shirt one by one and let it fall on the floor.

The club music thumped, the strobe lights flashed, and the heat of the many bodies rose. My life took place here, and I'd be lying if I said the club life didn't give me a migraine. My room was upstairs in one of the private rooms. I'm literally a 24/7 rent boy. If I step foot in this building, I belong to the men. My pay is determined by when I check out at the back door and this place is only closed from 4am to 11am.

My hair was grabbed roughly and I was thrown off the couch.
" I asked you a question! " the man yelled.
I stayed on the floor, remembering the rule: stay where you're put by the man who's making you your living.

He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me up the stairs and sliding his card in the lock to my private room.
Only gold members of the club have access to the private rooms at all times. Other members have to fill out an application and I have to either accept it or deny it within 2 days, and set a time that they fit into my schedule. If I'm busy with someone in the room, I flip the sign outside my door over to " Occupied. " On the other side is my name in green letters, meaning I'm willing to try anything.

Tonight, however, I'm feeling a bit misbehaved.