The Punk and the Non-Profit Prostitute

C4: A Penny For The Thoughts Of A Punk

It was roughly two in the morning. I was still wide awake and staring blankly at the painted ceiling. The images of baby angels and forest groves taunting me in my hazy state. My thoughts were running haywire as their tiny, innocent eyes drilled into mine. What did they know? They were still children. God's dead children eating wild berries and flying around with bows and arrows making people fall in love. They had a much better understanding of life and love than I did nonetheless.

How did that happen? When did dead toddlers with wings become far more superior and knowledgable than me? They knew which berries weren't poisonous and they knew who would make the perfect pair and they knew how to fly and live their life even beyond the restraints of death. Far more superior.

I shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was going crazy. Firstly I wasn't religious nor did I believe in angels, especially of toddler status. Secondly these were just paintings on a motel ceiling, they knew nothing of life.

"Noel" I breathed, eyes still concentrated on these illusions.

The sheets were loose around our naked bodies and fell off of him when he turned over to face me. He yawned and grabbed hold of his pillow tighter before responding.

"Go back to sleep" He mumbled, eyes clenched shut.

"Please tell me about yourself. So I can try to go to sleep. So I can try to make sense of the best sex of my life. So I won't forget everything" I basically begged, darting my eyes to the half asleep man.

"What do you want to know?" He asked in return.

I was surprised he didn't put up a fight like last time. Then again he wasn't in a proper state of consciousness and was too tired to be reluctant. I wore him out.

"Everything" I whispered.

"My parents names are Dianne and Ray. My birthday is May twenty first so I'm a Gemini and I was actually born here in London but I reside in LA. I'm not baptised, I don't have a middle name, I've been with my girlfriend for five or so years now. Some big shots are thinking of making another documentary for the band even though we have two already. People are saying we're close to being as big as The Beatles used to be which I think is bullshit. My brother Mike is our band manager who is probably the only person who actually says that..."

"Those are all meaningless dot points. I want to know the real you. Not your star sign or height or whatever tedious comment you could produce. Tell me about you, the real Noel"

"Hmm" Noel grumbled.

He sat up and leant against his pillow. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think of a proper response. I turned on my side to face him watching his mind tick over through his porcelain eyes.

"I always wanted to be an artist and go to art college but that failed when I met this jerk and we started doing drugs. I stopped paying attention to school and I didn't get the best results by the end of it. I'm surprised I even graduated. Art college rejected me and I thought all was lost. That jerk abandoned me on the corner of an unknown street in the middle of winter because I was overdosing and he didn't know what to do. Luckily someone found me and whizzed me to hospital" He confessed. "It wasn't just anyone either. It was Tom. He saved me and even more so when he befriended me"

"He sounds like a good guy" I glumly smiled and brushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"Yeah well he hates me now, I'm pretty sure. Not long after my admittance to hospital he discovered my singing voice and he told me he could play guitar. We started the band back then and we sucked. Eventually though over the years with more practice we got better. We were good enough to start getting gigs. We started in local pubs and bars and people loved us so much we managed to secure a spot at this one pub every night for five days a week. A scout recognised our talents and before long we were landed a record deal"

Noel took my hand from his face and held it softly against the bed sheets.

"We reached fame in just a couple of years. People loved us and we had no idea why. Our records sold like hot cakes and we were getting gigs and tours all over the world. I wrote the most of our lyrics whilst Tom did the music for it. My little brother Mike decided to take up the role of manager. I didn't protest because I knew he needed the job and it's nice having family involved. I met Lliana, my girl, when doing an interview with the band. She was the radio host and her giggle was the greatest thing I've ever heard in my entire life. I had to be with her or else it would've killed me"

"So why does Tom hate you?" I frowned, uncomfortable with the subject of his girlfriend.

"I let fame get to my head. I started abusing my celebrity status to get drugs and sleep around. I turned up late to gigs, I ignored them a lot and I still do... Even tonight we were scheduled to meet Rich and I was waiting around for a fucking prostitute. Tom knows about it too. He despises me for paying for an orgasm and cheating on Lliana but it's my form of relief. I've been sober for three years now, I need something to give me that high"

"And Lliana can't?"

"Of course she can but not like men do" Noel sighed and laid back down.

He pulled me down to him and he kissed my unsuspecting lips. I pulled away and stared at him with wonder and a hint of awe.

"So you're bisexual?" I asked after a while and cuddled into his chest.

"No. I'm straight"

"Tell that to me while you're fucking me" I scoffed.

"Well yeah, I like to have sex with men and yeah I find them attractive but I don't love them. I don't feel the need to fill my life with them or chase after them. I don't feel the need to caress them or kiss their hands. I don't feel the need to take them out on dates and cascade them in gifts. I just pay a guy to let me ram my dick up his arse every time I'm out of town. That doesn't classify me as gay or bi. It just means I'm looking for relief other than harmful drugs and if that's in a male hooker then that's nobody's business but mine" Noel argued, annoyed at my disbelief.

"Except when you mistake a random gay stranger as a prostitute and fuck him without pay instead"

"Whatever. It's not like it's going to be anything more than this. You're just a fuck and I got lucky because I don't have to pay you. You promised not to get attached and I trusted you. So let's just stop talking and get back to sleep" Noel grumbled.

Noel rolled over which forced me to jolt up from my position. I groaned and shifted in the bed. I rolled over on my side as well, facing the open window which swept in the cool breeze. I brought the sheets back to my exposed body and closed my eyes. I tried not to think of Noel's harsh statement of truth as he got comfortable.

How could he just sell his soul to me and then continue pretending our relationship would stop at this?