It was nine forty in the morning, and the strong light filtered through the blinds of the motel room window and flooded the large bed.
Lennon was laying on his front, naked and sprawled out on the bed, with half of his face buried in a pillow. Lennon's eyes opened and he turned around to find the bed empty.
"Chéri?" he asked in a sleepy tone.
Pulling himself up slowly from the bed, he looked around the room, "Chéri...?" he called out, then noticed that Chéri's backpack was gone from the chair, his clothes were missing from the radiator, and his piercings were gone from the small bedside table.
Lennon got out of the bed, naked and lethargic as he rubbed his eyes. He knocked on the shower room door, "Chéri?".
"Chéri? please answer.." he said, before touching the door lightly and watching it swing open slowly into an empty bathroom. There was no more sign of Chéri than some strands of Chéri's black hair in the shower drain.
Lennon looked confused and felt a rising panic as he walked back to the bed. He then noticed his wallet open with the British notes he had in it gone. He tossed it to the edge of the bed and picked up his phone. He called Chéri's number, but it just kept cutting to the answerphone.
Panic, sheer panic.
Lennon had an expression of hurt and confusion as he checked all around for any sign of Chéri. He found nothing so he picked up his phone and texted him.
Lennon: Chéri, my love. When you get this please, please call me. XXX Lenn
Then another text.
Lennon: Where are you? LENN X X X X
He sat on the bottom of the bed staring at his phone for nearly a further ten minutes then grabbed his clothes and dressed. He grabbed his keys and left quickly for the downstairs reception desk, where he walked up to the reception clerk and practically slammed the keys on the desk, "Can you help me...please? Did you see a man leave room 159? You can't miss him! Thin, olive-skinned with lots of flower tattoos, black hair... are you listening to me?!" Lennon asked in a tone that lay bare his frustration.
"Yes, Sir, I saw him leave about two hours ago. He asked if the road ahead was clear and if the airport was still running flights. Then asked about shops and left with an older gentleman." The clerk responded.
"What do you mean, left with someone?!" Lennon asked in an impatient tone.
"Exactly that. A man arrived and waited here in the lobby for him, and they left together." The clerk answered.
Lennon rolled his eyes, "What man? What was his name?!"
"I don't know, sir."
"So, someone's missing, and you 'don't know'?!" Lennon shot back, frustrated.
"No ones missing, sir. He left of his own accord."
"Did they say where they were goin'?" Lennon asked.
"No."
"Did you see the guy's car?"
"No. I didn't, I'm sorry. You need to calm down, sir." The clerk answered.
Lennon sighed in frustration and grabbed the keys off the table before he gave up and walked off back to the room. In his room, he sat on the bed staring into space, then put his face in his hands.
He could feel the tightening of a tension headache taking hold, as well as a rising panic.
Where's Chéri?
Has he gone hitchhiking?
Has someone got Chéri?
Lennon saw his wallet was now, on the floor.
Has someone been in here?
No, it's just fallen off the bed. Stop being irrational.
Need to think.
He searched on social media for Chéri Lafontaine-Martinez, and he found a profile with a banner of Chéri - half-naked, wearing long diamond earrings and several, diamond and pearl necklaces while on a bed covered in rose petals. He was staring up to the camera with lipstick smeared down from his mouth onto his cheeks and he was wearing a small black dress.
The main profile picture was of Chéri sitting in front of a massive family who were gathered in front of an opulent villa. His mother, dressed in the chic French fashion, sat behind him in a grand chair wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Many of the young people in the picture shared Chéri's pretty features. He wondered if they were all siblings. If so, that's a lot of siblings.
Looking at the only public pictures of a life of luxury, Lennon concluded that Chéri was possibly the rebellious and doted on son of a very well to do Spanish lady.
Lennon sent him a friend invite but his mind was a mess. Swirling with questions and wondering if he had done something wrong, and just felt a crushing sense of loss.
"Ohhh..." Lennon sighed aloud due to shortness of breath as he placed his hand on his chest, and sat on the bed. The shock of Chéri's absence made his breathing tight and his heart race. His mind was a mess as it dawned on him that he may never see Chéri again. His feelings of self-doubt crept back and tightened around his neck as he felt used and cast aside yet again.
Where is Chéri?
Someone's stolen Chéri.
Chéri's left me.
Chéri's used me.
He could be miles away by now.
Where's Chéri?
I feel for him and he's just discarded me.
Gotta find Chéri.
Lennon's eyes watered looking at the only public pictures of his young European lover. He looked at the little bits of information that were visible and he saw that Chéri's relationship status was set to 'single' and that he preferred men. He saw a few other profile covers of Chéri off the coast of Spain, partying, having lavish meals, wearing French Haute Couture while being crossdressed more often than not. There were pictures of him stepping out of a swimming pool holding up two lobsters and drinking champagne.
In one picture, he was surrounded by well-groomed, but strangely dressed, men. They all seemed to be standing to attention and looking at him in such a way, they couldn't have been family members, almost like staff.
Who are these people in uniform?
As Lennon undressed to take a shower, he worried that maybe this seemingly well off boy had just developed a taste for the tough life, and was sleeping rough of his own volition.
There was a knock on the door. Lennon had no will to answer it but he put a towel around his waist and walked to the door slowly, pulling it, and letting it swing open.
Chéri stood at the door, holding a paper grocery bag.
Lennon's eyes widened and he pulled Chéri into the room, kissing him and caressing his face. "Chéri!"
"Wow, good morning to you too, Lenny!" Chéri responded while sounding constricted.
"Oh good God! You're here! You're here! You.. smell of alcohol." Lennon said frantically, as he held Chéri close.
"I got you some breakfast mister, and just why do you look such a fuckin' state, Lenny?" Chéri asked.
"Where have you been?! Why did you take your backpack? Your phone is off! All your stuff is gone! I thought you'd vanished! Got what you wanted and left me!" Lennon admitted, his eyes all red and swollen.
"Ohh, Lenny..." Chéri said as he turned away and put the paper grocery bag on the bed, "I wanted to find a store to get something to eat and check the road ahead. Sorry, but I had to swipe twenty quid to buy this stuff." he added, quietly.
"I thought you'd abandoned me! Gone! Forever. "
"Well, I'm right here." Chéri protested, with a wry smile.
"Thank the lord." Lennon said.
Chéri leant over and kissed Lennon, then wiped away the wet areas under his eyes. "Deep down inside, you're such a sensitive man."
"I'm not! I just..." Lennon shook his head, as he abandoned the sentence and opened a carton of orange juice and took a large sip.
"Anyway, I can't go far! my mom wants to see me before my next birthday! Haha." Chéri laughed.
"Oh? How old are ya?" Lennon asked as he took another sip.
"Nineteen." Chéri answered, making Lennon choke and spit out his drink.
"You're nineteen? Nineteen?! " Lennon asked loudly in shocked disbelief.
"Yeah! By the way, how old are you, Lenny? I never got round to asking you. " Chéri asked.
"Twenty-eight..."
"Ohh! Nearly thirty! Old guy." Chéri joked until he saw that the serious look on Lennon's face wasn't changing.
"I had no idea you were that young, Chéri."
"Don't worry! I'm legal here if that's what you're worried about, unless, you're saying I look an old bitch?"
"No! It just brings up other potential problems." Lennon said, sadly.
"Oh? Like?"
"Well I'm tryin' to get 'cha to hang out with me, and now I find out you're nineteen! You're gonna want to go out partying and stuff." Lennon said while face-palming.
"Hang? What is this hang?" Chéri asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the bed table.
"Chéri.. c'mere." Lennon said as he sat on the bed, "I was going to ask you to come back to the United States with me.. for like, a holiday."
"Nah. I don't wanna live in sucky America! The food is shite, the people sound silly, the society is cultureless, and the currency is weak." Chéri said as he rolled his eyes.
Lennon slowly started to smile, "Wow, we should have you on the tourist board! Okay, how 'bout this, you stay with me for the rest of my stay here and then we fly back to the states and hang out at my parents. If you hate it, we fly back to Europe together and I apply for residency?"
"Getting better, but, why do I have to go to America at all? I'd be away from my family, my mom... " Chéri said.
Lennon took Chéri's hand, "I wanna level with ya, I know how fickle the scene is and I'm worried that if we spend too long apart, you're not goin' to want to see me again. I feel we get on great! You said so last night so many times."
"So now, I'm fickle?" Chéri asked.
"It's a worry.." Lennon answered.
Chéri threw his hands up, "I've gotta fix my face after hearing all this shite..." Chéri replied while grabbing his makeup bag from his backpack, and walking off to the bathroom.
"This 'shite'" Lennon repeated to himself as he unplugged his American travel adapter and was wrapping up his cables, when he saw Chéri's open backpack, on the bed.
He hadn't wanted to mention what the reception clerk had told him, and he looked at the receipt on the bed for the groceries and saw the transaction time, and that it was only forty minutes ago.
He pulled the top of the bag open a little further and saw several bags inside as well as a load of loose, British fifty pound notes. He unzipped one bag and there was a small stack of driving licence cards, as well as some business cards.
Some were Spanish, some English, some French, one German and a couple of American ones. Lennon's eyes widened, as he looked through the small stack.
David Elliot, UK, Taxi driver,
Ricardo Rodriguez Spain, Driver,
Wolfgang Schmidt, Germany, Dental Surgeon,
The list went on.
Lennon picked his wallet off the floor and opened it to see his Canadian driving license still in the Display slot. He held up the card for the Dental Surgeon and looked at it.
Then a dark thought crossed his mind. Is this guy still alive?
Lennon picked up his phone and started to dial the British telephone number on the card as he glanced over to the shut bathroom door. He could hear the water running as he dialled.
"Good Morning, Park View Dental Practice, How can I help you?"
"Yeah, hi, I need to make an appointment to have some work done and a friend strongly recommended Mr Schmidt, can I book an appointment with him?" Lennon asked quietly.
"Sure, he's here, about to go in with another patient so let me ask if he has room on his books..." she answered before her voice faded as she asked a question to someone in the room. Lennon heard a man answer her in the background, with a strong German accent.
Lennon hung up as Chéri walked in.
"You've not eaten. " Chéri said.
"Nah, I was waitin' for you, though I gotta take a shower too." Lennon said as he sat on the bed.
Chéri climbed onto the bed over his lap and ran his hands through Lennon's hair as he kissed him, "Before you get all clean..."
Lennon was getting strong wafts of alcohol from Chéri's breath, "Have you been drinking, Chéri?"
"Maaaaybe."
"What?! At ten in the morning?!" Lennon asked in a tone of total disapproval.
Chéri jumped on him, seemingly ignoring what he said, "You're so hot! and soooo good in bed." Chéri purred before throwing his arms around Lennon's neck and kissing him around his mouth until he gripped the sides of his head, pulled him close, and kissed him passionately.
"Ohh, Chéri..." Lennon breathed into his ear as he started to feel aroused by Chéri's affection, and weak under his touch.
"Let's do it before we leave! Have one for the road." Chéri whispered in his ear.
"Chéri, why are you always so ready? So thirsty..." Lennon muttered as Chéri was all over him.
"How can I not be around you?" Chéri replied in between kisses.
"Are you some kind of sex-crazed, maniac?" Lennon asked with a slight smile.
"Mmmmm..." Chéri purred, "That's me!" he whispered before kissing up Lennon's neck, and around his ear.
Lennon quickly undid his top, and pulled at Chéri's clothes, hurrying to get them off.
☆
Chéri looked over as he picked his clothes up from the floor, "I thought you were going to break me, Lenny."
"That would be counterproductive, darlin'." Lennon said as he buttoned up his shirt after his shower.
"Hey! You're not very talkative this morning, Lenny. I mean, less than usual." Chéri said.
Lennon just shrugged at the question.
"What's wrong, Lenny? I know you well enough to know when you're troubled. Are you still paranoid about this morning?"
"Just, have a lot on my mind." Lennon answered.
"I thought I was on your mind." Chéri asked, in a flirty fashion.
"You're permanently, on my mind." Lennon responded while noticing that Chéri was walking with a slight limp, "Honey, why are you walking' funny?"
Chéri just raised his eyebrows, and slowly turned to stare at Lennon, before he looked down on the large king-sized bed. "Seriously?! By the way, I'd hate to be the one to clean those sheets." He joked.
"Why's that darlin'?" Lennon asked.
"Because they have about three gallons of your cum on them," Chéri replied, "Honestly, you cum like....insane."
Lennon grinned slightly, "Well, the bigger the gun the more ammo it holds, and it ain't had a clear out for a while."
Chéri squeezed his eyes shut and smiled at the bad pun, then he finished packing his clothes.
After they repacked and double-checked the room was clear, Lennon couldn't help feeling sentimental over the room that had seen so much activity the night before. They went to reception to settle up, and the receptionist eyed Chéri with suspicion, and was quite short with Lennon, after his outburst earlier.
They stepped outside onto the forecourt where Lennon was carrying Chéri's backpack and his duffle bag, but as he walked around the truck he noticed that the door was open and had been crowbarred.
"What the...?" Lennon said to himself as he looked at the door.
"What the fucks happened, here?" Chéri asked as he looked all around the car parking lot somewhat nervously.
"Wait here honey, I'll make sure no one's inside." Lennon said as he took out his large pocket knife.
"You can't walk around with one of those! They're illegal in this country!" Chéri added while he kept looking behind himself.
Lennon climbed up and stepped into the cab. He saw the GPS on the floor by his MP3 player, his glove box was opened, and all the papers for his hauls with this company were in disarray, though his timetable with his name and mobile number were on the seat. Lennon suddenly pulled open the curtain behind the seats, but there was no one there. Just the mattress with his sleeping bag and pillow.
He turned back to the dashboard and saw a piece of folded paper taped over the speedometer. He grabbed the paper and stuffed it in his pocket, before climbing back out of the cab.
Chéri climbed up after him, "What's up?"
"Well, nothings been stolen which is weird. But then, there's nothing to steal except my MP3 player and GPS, but they didn't take those. I guess my taste in music is pretty awful. I'll have to report this to my company but I'll go buy a replacement lock, and fit it." Lennon said, as he climbed back down and then helped Chéri down.
"You can do that? Change a car lock?" Chéri asked, looking impressed.
"Yeah, that's pretty basic though. I don't feel good boasting about it, haha."
"Can you change a tire too?" Chéri asked.
"Come on Chéri. Don't be silly." Lennon answered while lighting a cigarette.
"I can't do anything like all that. Can you fix an engine and stuff?" Chéri asked.
"Sure darlin'. I'm very mechanically minded and can repair nearly anything, mechanical." Lennon said.
"Wanna know what I can do, Lenny?"
Lennon shot him a humorous look, "What can you do, darlin'?"
"I can deep throat." Chéri announced, cheerfully.
"I know you can." Lennon nodded before he winked back.
"Among other amazing things, for those lucky enough to worship, at the altar of my arse." Chéri said.
"I couldn't be any more devoted." Lennon said while pulling the broken remnants of the lock out.
"No, you couldn't." Chéri answered.
Lennon started to improvise a way to keep the door shut until they could reach a place to get a new lock.
"How long is this going to delay us?" Chéri asked.
"No idea.."
"Let's go into the cafe, have a coffee and I'll check my phone and see where I can get parts." Lennon said as he put his arm around Chéri's shoulder.
Chéri pulled his coat's hood up and he put his arm around Lennon's waist as they walked towards the cafe.
They walked into the busy cafe where there was a long queue to the till with people all around. It was mostly loud with drivers, all having massive breakfasts. They walked in, navigating the crowd, to get to the end of the queue. Chéri turned to Lennon suddenly, "Lenny, let's just go. Just tie the door shut or something, but let's just get outta here."
"Don't you wanna drink?" Lennon asked as he leant over to kiss Chéri.
Lennon felt a large shove as he was shouldered by a large Asian man, wearing a baseball cap pulled low down his tattooed face, wearing a bomber jacket. He had peeled off from the queue and then left suddenly. Lennon looked irritated.
"Shall we just go, Lenny?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure." Lennon answered, distracted.
Chéri could tell there was something up with Lennon, and that he seemed withdrawn. They left the queue and headed back to the truck where Lennon improvised a fix on the door.
Lennon climbed back into the cab, and checked all of his systems before he pulled on his seatbelt, then looked at Chéri, "Belt up, darlin'."
"Am I legit your passenger now?" Chéri asked.
"My passenger seat is now permanently, yours." Lennon said as he adjusted his mirrors and flicked the end of his cigarette out the window before rolling it up.
Chéri placed his backpack on the floor by his feet, then quickly pulled the safety belt over himself, "Okay driver, like I said last night, I'm ready when you are.."
Lennon shot him half a smile before he started the forty-tonne vehicle and skillfully got in line to leave and rejoin the road.
☆
A silent hour passed as Lennon drove and Chéri was mostly silent on his phone.
"Lenny, you're quiet." Chéri said, worrying that he had exhausted some of the goodwill and patience that he had been enjoying.
"Nah, just concentrating." Lennon said flatly, without taking his eyes off the road.
"No! You're fucked off. Normally, you whistle all the fucking time when you drive and have the radio on, and also ask me dumb questions. It's been an hour, and you've said shit to me." Chéri said.
"Nah, I ain't got nothing to say, darlin'."
"I don't get it. You're stewing over something! You were so happy to see me this morning but now you're offish and you've got the arse with me." Chéri said.
"I just think, maybe we need to talk about some things, Chéri."
"Oh no, like what?!"
"Well, I'll ask you something in a second then." Lennon answered as he slowly veered off onto the hard shoulder. He put the hazards on and parked up illegally.
"Ain't supposed to park here." Chéri said in a near bitchy tone.
"I know! I just gotta get this off my chest." Lennon said.
Chéri folded his arms, as he sat back in his seat, "Lenn, you weren't in a fucking mood when you wanted to fuck me earlier this morning."
"Chéri, what happens when we reach Birmingham?" Lennon asked while staring forward, out towards the fast traffic and the miles of road ahead.
"Not this again..." Chéri said as he got out a stick of bubble-gum and stuck it in his mouth, throwing the double pack on the dashboard and the wrapper on the floor.
"Chéri, have you booked a flight yet?"
"No, why!?" Chéri snapped back.
"Do you want me to book it for you?" Lennon asked.
"No." Chéri said as he chewed bubble-gum and stared out the side window.
"What airport are you flying into?" Lennon asked.
"El prat, Barcelona." Chéri said in a flat, disinterested tone.
"How long are you fixing to stay with your momma?"
"Until I get bored." Chéri answered monotone.
"Does she have room for you?" Lennon asked.
"Yeah. Loads."
"You said you're coming back to live in England, right?" Lennon asked.
"What is this, an interrogation?" Chéri snapped back.
"I think I deserve to know?" Lennon responded.
"What do you mean 'deserve'? Why are you trying to control me?"
"I'm not! But, we're a couple... aren't we?" Lennon asked in a tone which displayed how hurt he felt.
"Yes, so I have an equal say. I don't like to make plans, I like freedom and do whatever." Chéri said.
Lennon turned to face Chéri, "Chéri, where were you, this morning?"
Chéri rolled his eyes, "Buying breakfast!"
"By yourself?" Lennon asked.
"Yes."
Lennon sighed loudly as he looked away, and then turned back to Chéri, "Bullshit."
Chéri looked shocked, "Bullshit?! Where's this from?"
"Anything you bought was in the last thirty minutes before you got back. So, you were out over two hours and you get back smelling of alcohol, with several hundred pounds in your pocket?!"
"Did you... go through my bag?!" Chéri asked, furiously.
"No! Your bag was open and I had a look in one bag inside. What the hell is up with the Licenses?!" Lennon asked in a firm tone.
Chéri just stared back at Lennon.
"What exactly do they represent to you, and why are you holding onto them, Chéri?"
Chéri's eyes became watery and red as he seethed. A fury building within him.
"No answers!?" Lennon asked, with a hint of desperation in his voice, "Chéri..." Lennon hesitated, "Are you a prostitute?!"
Chéri stared back at him furiously and slapped Lennon across his face before he screamed back. "Did I charge you for a night with me?! I have on occasion had to perform a few favours in exchange for something I've needed to survive! But I am not a prostitute!" Chéri shouted before he grabbed his bag, angrily pulled off his seat belt and opened the door before climbing out.
"Chéri..." Lennon called after him, but there was no response.
"Chéri! It's dangerous out here, get back inside! Now!" Lennon shouted before getting out to reason with Chéri.
"No!" Chéri shouted.
"Chéri! Please..." Lennon said, grabbing Chéri's arm.
Chéri threw his backpack around to hit Lennon, "Leave me alone!"
"You can't walk here! It's dangerous!" Lennon said, putting his arms around Chéri, trying to pull him back from the roadside where cars were whizzing by at seventy miles an hour. He kept blocking Chéri's angry bag swings, but a pocket on his backpack ripped dropping wrappers and receipts.
"Fine! I won't!" Chéri said as he continued to walk away, but with his thumb up soliciting a lift.
"Ohh no you don't! You are not bloody hitchhiking! Over my dead body!" Lennon shouted while he grabbed Chéri's arm.
Chéri swung round and they started shouting at each other and jostling by the roadside. Chéri even purposely tugged away from Lennon towards the busy motorway, actually making a car swerve away from the road line slightly to miss him.
"CHÉRI!" Lennon screamed, "You're going to kill yourself!" He shouted as he grabbed Chéri again and forcibly yanked him away from the motorway.
"Then take your bloody hands off me!" Cheri screamed back.
"Alright! Alright! Please just step away from the Goddamned road! Please!" Lennon shouted over the sound of the traffic as he held his hands up.
"You can fuck off back to America!" Chéri screamed.
"Chéri! Please, don't do this." Lennon sighed.
"I'm finished with you!" Chéri screamed, his eyes all red, and his tone one of pure fury.
"Why? Cause I asked some questions?" Lennon asked as he grabbed Chéri, spinning him around to face him.
Chéri slapped Lennon across the face again.
Lennon squeezed his eyes shut a moment, absorbing the stinging pain of being slapped and then he turned back to Chéri who drew his fist back to punch him. He grabbed Chéri's wrists and started shaking him, "Chéri! Stop it!" he shouted in his face.
A car pulled up ahead of the truck, after witnessing the struggle, and an old man approximately in his fifties stepped out. "Hey! You! Young man!", he shouted at Chéri, "Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not!" Chéri shouted as he yanked his arms away from Lennon.
"Step away from that large man, and come here!" The driver called.
Lennon marched up to the man and pointed in his face, "This is none of your Goddamned business!"
"I'll call the police! Do you want that?!" The old man said before turning to Chéri, "Want a lift young man?" The older man asked, completely ignoring Lennon, "Typical American." He added as they walked away and he opened the car door for Chéri.
"Yes please!" Chéri replied angrily.
"Chéri! Please, no..." Lennon said as Chéri opened the door to the car.
"Fuck off, Lennon!" Chéri said before he started walking towards the car.
"Don't get in that fucking car!" Lennon shouted as he pointed, and started to walk towards them.
Both Chéri and the driver got in the car and left, quickly building up speed to join the motorway again.
Lennon couldn't believe it.
Has Chéri just walked out of my life?
Lennon got back into the truck and called Chéri's mobile but it rang then cut off. When he tried to ring again it went straight to voicemail. Lennon hung up and then threw his phone against the dashboard, cracking its glass front.
He folded his arms over the wheel and his head fell forward, sobbing uncontrollably. The pain was nearly physical and he felt that an innermost part of him had been ripped out.
He didn't understand the feelings, but he felt consumed by rage as well as the sting of jealousy, and he thought about all the different things he should have done. Attacking that busybody who stole Chéri being one of them.
That old man's stolen Chéri...
Probably wanted Chéri for himself...
Chéri's so beautiful and needy and now he's out in the dangerous world, alone...
With a stranger...
He stopped sobbing a moment when he saw Chéri's packet of cherry chewing gum on the dashboard and noticed it smelled like black cherry, so just like Chéri.
He opened the glove box to throw the bubble gum inside and saw the paper that had been taped to the speedometer. As he pulled it out he noticed the flashing blue and white lights of a police car pulling up behind the truck on the hard shoulder.
Next Chapter: Love Without Borders