I laid carelessly strewn across the dirty bed of his pickup truck, numb to his rhythmic entering and exiting of my body. The first few days brought pleasure, but weeks in to this nightly routine, his sloppy performance had become oblivious to me. This part of my day had become my time to reflect, though it was always short. I stared at the stars behind him, imagining as if I was the only one there. It was surprisingly peaceful.
Sometime later I noticed the movement had stopped, so I reached behind my head to grab the towel and clean up. Putting his jeans back over his waist, he walked to the cab and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and threw it at me as I slid off the bed. In the pale moonlight above the trees, I could see blood surfacing from scratches on the backsides of my arms.
"You're getting careless. Am I not good enough for you?" he growled at me.
"You did great, Jared," I told him, reaching across to give him a light kiss. He pushed away.
"Prove it tomorrow whore, or I'll cut your pay!"
He slammed the door of his truck, and drove off, leaving me alone on the side of the road. I checked my phone, and set off on the three mile journey back home.
It didn't shock me he had left me; it was a common occurrence. I don't consider what we had to be a relationship - far from it, actually. I'd always been the gay kid sitting quietly in the back of the class, and he was a baseball player loved by our small town. Part of me wanted to believe there was love involved, and that under different circumstances, we'd be in a happy relationship. The other part of me knew, however, that the ordeal was entirely physical on his end, and there was no point on mine - I didn't even need the money.
This was the life I was living. This was the reputation I had earned. It was not what I wanted, but it was an unbreakable cycle that I wasn't happy in. At least, until the next day, when the world turned upside down.