Devil's Fate

A Very Bad Day

Jason Wakefield stepped off the elevator to his tenth floor apartment, keys in one hand and the day's mail in the other, a crossbody messenger bag hanging at his side. Tuesdays were long days, days he didn't get back to his place until well after dinner time. He knew Blue would be extra needy when he walked in, and he prepared himself for the extra cattitude. She would follow him around, meowing while he opened a bottle of wine, heated up last night's leftovers, and dumped cat food into her monogrammed stoneware bowl with a princess crown painted on the side. After she ate, Jason knew Blue would join him on the couch, and then he would tell her everything he thought about his two hour Tuesday evening therapy session.

Sometimes, telling his pet everything he was thinking was as useful as telling it to his therapist. Blue was just like Dr. Gibson. She sat attentively, but quietly, listening to everything he spilled out about Mark, about Ryan, about Mike... and about Chester. Especially about Chester. The difference was, Dr. Gibson helped him to see the links between his traumatic childhood, and his abusive marriage to Mark. In tonight's session it was gently suggested that Jason only had the affair with Mike to get back at Chester for everything that happened with Mark, since he couldn't get even with Mark for all he had done. It wasn't Chester's fault, Dr. Gibson pointed out. And even though Jason already knew that he wanted to hurt Chester - to get back at him - it was never clear to him why until two months into his sessions. Mark's death left Jason grieving and unable to get closure, with anger toward his husband and anxiety over the future.

Dr. Gibson likened it all to when Jason tragically lost his parents at thirteen, the incident that started him on the path that led him straight into Mark's arms. He'd been vulnerable, scared, and alone, barely a teenager with no family left. He'd gone from house to house in the foster care system. As he moved from one less than desirable situation to another, his straight A's at school became harder and harder to maintain. When he got in trouble a third time for stealing cigarettes from a convenience store he got shuffled to yet another family. That time Jason got a job, hoping to scrape together enough money to do what others his age did on the weekends. He just wanted to belong, to go to the movies or go to a party. He just wanted what everyone else seemed to have, and sometimes he was angry at his parents for taking the drive that ended in their deaths.

By the time he turned eighteen, he was barely holding on to passing grades at school. It was clear he was an inconvenience to his foster parents, who were consumed with the other, younger children in their care. Jason was mostly on his own, ripe for the picking. Mark wanted him, and Jason willingly leapt into the YRS lifestyle that allowed him freedom. A little bit of money, a place to call his own. Porn wasn't the way he envisioned his life, but it was what he had until Mark finished claiming him, wooing and marrying him at the tender age of twenty. All Mark had to do was offer Jason the world - college, the chance to not be in front of the camera but behind, and all the creature comforts money could buy. It seemed that as soon as the ring was on his finger, Mark's true colors had been revealed, leaving Jason feeling as alone and anxious as he'd been at thirteen.

Jason had gone through the entire backstory with Dr. Gibson, who continued to listen week after week to all of the muddled thoughts in Jason's head, until tonight. Tonight he'd connected the dots for Jason that were right in front of his face, the resentment he had toward his parents and Mark for dying and leaving him alone, and the way he'd taken out Mark's betrayal on Chester by going after Mike. It was so obvious that Jason didn't know how he hadn't figured it out himself.

He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, the warmth of the interior still surprising him. They'd only been two weeks in the new place, he and Blue, and Jason still wasn't expecting the deep, rich colors that greeted him instead of the light, beachy colors of the houseboat.

Jason rolled his eyes as he dropped his keys, bag, and the mail on the coffee table. The houseboat. It will make good income as an Airbnb, but what a disaster. Such a stupid thing to do. He shook his head immediately. No. Jason, you were doing what you thought was the right thing to do. Mark always tried to show he cared with material things. Mark was the point of reference. Now you know better. Now you know what not to do. There was a whole list of positive self-talk he was supposed to go through when he started down that self-deprecating road, and he chanted them to himself as he made his way across the living room, flipping on lights.