The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Twelve: Dark Alleys-

    What would I do if I only had one year to live? Honestly, I had no idea.

    “Can we not talk about this?” I murmured, voice lazy and almost slurred. I closed my eyes again.

    “You know what I'd do?” he completely ignored my request to change the subject. Either that or my voice was so quiet he hadn't heard it. I was betting on the former. “I'd tell that one person who I spent every moment thinking about, that I loved them,” it was silent for a moment before he added, “that'd be good enough for me.”

    I wasn't good at handling all this emotional shit, especially exchanging feelings. My brain was aching to come up with a reply that didn't make me seem like an emotionless twat. I ended up coming out with, “You're such a girl,” forcing a grin onto my features, but it faltered once I remembered that Logan couldn't see my expression, so I didn't have to put on a front.

    After about five or ten minutes of silence, I decided it was probably a good idea for me to be heading off. I didn't know how long I'd been there for, but I was sure it was likely my longest stay yet. Being there with Logan was just too fucking addicting, sometimes I wished I never had to leave. Everything outside of Logan felt dark and cold.

    I had to force myself upright, tapping him on the thigh and hauling myself to my feet, slipping on my shoes. “I'm gonna go, overstayed my welcome I think,” I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck as I waited for him to stand up. He grabbed his wallet from the coffee table and walked me to the front door. “I guess I'll see you in a few days,”

    Logan held the money out to me and I took it, shoving it in my pocket. It always felt awkward taking money from him, knowing that I never actually earned it. Paying me simply for company didn't seem right, but it was what Logan insisted.

    As I turned to leave, Logan said, “Oh, hey, Ash,” prompting me to turn back to him. I nodded my head in turn of saying yes. “You could never overstay your welcome,” it was impossible to hold in the smile as his words reached my ears. So, instead of letting him see it, I tilted my chin to the floor, hoping the darkness of the night would shadow my features.

    “Night, Logan,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away, giving him a small wave of the hand. I didn't hear him reply before the door clicked shut. There was a slight breeze in the air that ruffled my sweater and sneaked in through the collar and down my back, causing my body to erupt in shiver after shiver.

    My hands were shoved in my front pockets in a feeble attempt to warm them. They felt like ice cubes. It made dialling the nearest taxi firm's number a difficult task, which was a bitch and took me nearly twice as long as it should have. To make things even worse, the taxi was fifteen minutes late, the lazy bastards.

    I was thankful to escape the cold as I slid into the passenger seat when it finally arrived, despite wanting to rip the driver a new one for leaving me waiting around for so long. Surprisingly, I didn't find myself in a bad mood once inside the cab. It was probably down to Logan's last words that were still lingering in the forefront of my mind.

    As much as I wouldn't like to admit it, it was practically all I thought about as I watched the colours of the main street blur past me in merged oranges and yellows. I was dropped off round the corner from where I lived, never actually letting them stop outside the shitty apartment building I called home.

    Walking past the alleys was never a fun thing. I always had this paranoia in the back of my mind, that I'd get jumped. Nothing ever happened, thankfully, so when I heard movement just as I was passing one––like the scuffling of feet––I fucking shat myself. Not literally, thank god. Jesus, I wanted to head straight inside but, you know, curiosity was a bitch and even though I could have been mugged or some shit, I still decided to check it out.

    So, there I was, walking past the entrance of a dark alley, late at night with absolutely fuck all to defend myself with but I had this urge to find out who was there, if anyone.

    “Hello?” I called out, voice portraying the fear I felt quite audibly. I heard some more shuffling, trainers against concrete, but this time there was the sound of sniffling accompanying it. Then, in the darkness, if I squinted enough, I was sure I could make out a figure. And it was moving towards me.

    Each step it took forward, I took two back. I hadn't realised how deep I'd actually walked into the alley, until I'd taken about twenty frickin' steps and still not made it to the entrance. Fuck, was the only words running on repeat inside my head until, “Ash?” it's voice was hoarse and groggy, making me certain it was a guy but...how did he know my name?

    The street light lit up the entrance of the alley in an orange semi-circle. I was grateful to finally be in that area so I could see properly. I waited for the person to emerge from the shadows, which he did only minutes after me. The first thing I noticed was his shabby, blonde locks that looked like they'd been through a good few rounds of pulling and tugging. His clothes were made up of a simple black hoodie and some jeans.

    Relief surged through my as I recognised who the guy was, “Alex! Fucking hell!” I ran a hand through my hair, looking up at the sky as I tried to calm my heart. “You scared the shit out of me,” I laughed out of fear. I realised then that I seriously needed to man up and grow some balls. It's a bloody good job I wasn't in a horror movie. I'd probably end up being the first to die.

    My rational mind caught up with the situation all at once, panic setting in as I glanced over Alex's appearance again. I said, “What– what are you doing out here? Has something happened?”

    He wiped at his cheeks and nose, walking further forward. He was close enough now that I could see the redness beneath his eyes. He'd obviously been crying for a while. “I'm fine,” he said. That was it? Just two words? I hadn't seen him for a week––and not from a lack of trying because all my free time was spent searching for him––the kid just fucking disappeared and all I got was two fucking words?

    “Glad to know you're okay, Alex,” so you can imagine after making sure he was all right, I was going to blow up on the idiot. “Where the fuck have you been? I've been worried god damn sick, Alex!” I couldn't keep my voice from shouting, unable to hide my anger. “I had to find out from Mitch that you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere, cause that's what I was imagining!”

    Mitch, the spiky blonde-haired boy, had spotted Alex wandering around the streets a few days ago, but he hadn't bothered to drag the kid back to the apartment and keep him hostage there until I returned. I guess I couldn't expect him to do that, the guy was Tyler's minion, practically. Alex wasn't his problem.

    “Calm down,” Alex sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

    “Calm down? Calm the fuck down? Don't you dare tell me to calm down. You didn't even call, you didn't text. You just ran off. What was I supposed to think? You're so fucking naive, Alex, anything could have happened!” he didn't respond after that, he just stumbled over to the wall and slid down to the floor, hugging his knees.

  I sat down beside him, my back against the wall just as his was. I pulled him against me, remembering how it felt to have Logan run his fingers through my hair, how it made everything else seem numb around me. So I did that to Alex, hoping it would give him the same relief. I let him cry for a while without bothering to speak.

    The cold, the darkness, everything I hated didn't matter in that moment, even though I couldn't stop shivering. My rational side nagged at me to take him somewhere warmer, but I felt like I couldn't move so I doubted Alex could either.

    “What happened, Alex?” I whispered against the top of his head where my chin was resting. My fingers came to a standstill now, holding him close, trying to keep him warm. He was still crying. I wished that I could do something to make everything go away, whatever pain he was feeling. I couldn't help but blame myself, knowing that if we hadn't had that fight, he never would have run off and gotten himself hurt.

    “I'm sorry, Ash,” the words were forced between deep breaths and sobs, as if on the edge of a panic attack. “I'm so– I'm so sorry,” his hands were balled up tightly in my sweater, like he was holding on for dear life, thinking I'd leave him. It just made me hold him tighter.

    “Sorry for what, Alex?” I dreaded the answer because something inside me knew it wasn't going to be anything I wanted to hear, but I had to know. “What happened?”