*COMPLETED* (18+) MATURE
Wrong number...usually a person would delete the number, right? A mistaken text leads to blood money and danger. Chris Johnson, a gender fluid male, receives a text from a mystery guy who shares a card number. Aware that i...
As I wait for Syd to read my text, I rummage through a dresser for joggers. I think enough time has passed for me to ask this without being annoying to Syd. As I throw clothes from the dress onto my bedroom's floor, I relay my failed attempt to visit James, if only I thought it through better. My mom is suspicious about my illness, knowing I'm a decent faker. I wasn't able to stop the school calling her.
Syd: Boss okayed your request. I'll send a ride to the hot spot.
The hot spot is three bus stops down and off on a corner street. Usually, a blue DMW meets me there when I want to visit the mansion.
My reply: cool ok
I shower quickly, soaking my body and scrubbing it twice. I always judge my figure when I get out of the shower. I'm too lanky; I need muscles. I think yet again, for the hundredth time. My messy brown hair, now wet, covers my forehead. I slip into the clothes, a grey jogger set, and open the bathroom door; feeling cold air replenishing my steamy skin.
I grab my book bag and phone before leaving for the front door. Before I can turn the knob, my mom speaks critically. "Where are you going?" A short, chubby woman with a pie face, scrutinizes me.
"To Barnes And Nobel...I gotta study for a history test." I lie smoothly.
"Why not study here?"
"Cus I did some research and it's proven that change of environment is healthy for the brain's workflow." This is no lie. "Chill, since when are you so edgy about me going out?"
"Don't tell me to chill...and I'm asking you because there's a virus going around, you need a wear masks. You don't have on one." My mom scolds.
"I'll pick some up," I whine to my mom, who wears a yellow house gown.
"Be careful." Her voice goes weary. "Stay out of close contact with people...at least five feet apart."
I turn the knob. "I will."
My mom holds out her arms. "For good luck."
I let go of the knob, embarrassingly accepting her hug, knowing it would give her nervous soul some ease. She works long hours at a daycare, a teacher, recently she's been logging long hours and getting paid less. The place is shutting down soon; this meant we'd have to downgrade to a one-bedroom. If only she knew of all the money I had saved up.
Would she believe that I have 15k, untaxed, in my bank account?
I pull back from the long, cozy hug. "I'll see you later."
"You have your phone, right?"
"Yeah," I drone, annoyed. My mom mushes my damp hair friskily with her hand.
At the hot spot, I climb into the DMW, shaking dirty snow from my gym shoes before resting them inside. I wish I could tell my mom that I'm not on a train or bus...that I'm being chauffeured around. That would ease her mind about the coronavirus.
Maybe it's time to break the ice...tell her that I have fifteen grand. That she doesn't have to work. That we can move out of the gutter of New York to a suburb. I watch the surroundings as the fancy car drives, eyeing the sun beaming onto trashy sidewalks, the crumbling and cracked concrete, the abandoned buildings.
The white mansion glows in the sunlight like a structure from heaven, plotted on acres of land-a snowy paradise. I've had so many dreams about this place...just random shit, like James handing it over to me out of the blue. Fucking girls in the pool out back, drinking wine as I stroll down the three-tier staircase. Naked... I've been here too much.
Inside, I remove my shoes, not wanting to dirty up the pure, marble floors. Brie, the housekeeper, approaches me in an apron, holding out a plate of muffins. She had to be fifty or maybe sixty. I take one. "Thanks."
The fountain in the center of the room bubbles with water, the massive chandelier above reflects the sun; casting light patterns onto the walls. From the three-tier staircase, Karen descends, wearing a lot of makeup, and seeming on the brink of crying. But she holds her composure. "Hello, Ryan."
Well, Karen was...umm...a fucking MILF... so it makes sense that I'm getting turned on. God damn blondes are my fantasy! "Morning." I suppress my horniness.
When Brie approaches her, she waves her away. An awkward silence follows. I stare after the housekeeper, wondering why she has been sent away. Maybe to ask me for a hookup? James doesn't want her...she's a slut...and I need sex. I'm desperate.
"I need to talk to you...to someone. James is bottled up in the library. Why?" Her blue eyes burn into mine, full of gloomy anticipation, as she descends the stairs. When on the threshold, I notice bruises under her makeup.
"Oh." Well, there's goes my porn fantasy.
"Do you know what is going on? Why did the Dons attack him?"
"Umm...well I think it's because of the money-"
"RYAN!" My head jerks to the top of the staircase, to a livid Sydney. Karen jumps and sighs aggressively, defeated, as she hurries off to the kitchen like a queen held against her will. Accepting her failed attempt of putting puzzle pieces together. "Come up!" Syd barks.
I walkup the stairs, apologetically peering after James's wife.
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