doitlikeawhore

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:52:03 GMT

Title: Do It Like A Whore (Just Business)
Plot Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him – how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Genre: Drama
Word Count: About 35,000

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:48:11 GMT

DISCLAIMER:

Listed below are the chapters to a story that falls under the name of "Vam."

Vam is the pairing of two celebrities known as Ville Valo and Bam Margera.

The following story is fictional, and I do not admit that any of the content in the story has actually occurred.

Please, enjoy this story with an open mind.

Please, respect me, and do not repost without permission. The only person posting this story should be me, either under this name, war_of_ataraxis or love_sex_angst. Be advised, any other person posting this story is being fraudulent, and is more than likely doing so against my wishes.

Thank you.

Thank you to all those who have remained faithful throughout this story, and to those who pushed me to finish it. (That's you, Fizzy!)

For more stories by this author visit love_sex_angst.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:36:12 GMT

Stepping back out onto the street, I almost panicked, unable to spot where Bam and Ryan had disappeared to – then, suddenly, my eye caught two crouching figures behind a car and started toward them. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed that Ryan had his arms around Bam – I first thought the worst – then realize that Bam's head was buried into Ryan's neck not in any sign of affection... but...

Bam was crying.

My Bam was crying.

Looking up, Ryan caught my eye and looked uncertain for a minute before lifting a hand and waving me over. Sensing the movement, Bam lifted his head as well, and looked over to see me; it sent a pain through my heart and I stopped walking again as his head automatically dropped back down to Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan's frowned but he waved me over again; for some reason I obeyed, stopping behind them.

"Bam... you need to talk to Ville," I heard him mutter quietly, and Bam shook his head violently into Ryan's neck in response. It hurt to see him unwilling to even speak to me, and all I could do was gnaw at my lip.

"Bam... talk to him."

His voice now more stern, Bam finally lifted his head and looked at me with his tear streaked face, his lip trembling before in one swift movement, he was in my arms.

"I hate them," I heard him mutter. "I fucking hate them so much."

I could guess who he was talking about without even asking, wrapping my arms around him, nuzzling my nose into his hair, withholding the question that was eating at me.

Why?

Instead of speaking I just held him as he shook slightly in my arms, but the question raged in my mind and I could now longer withhold it. "Bam?" I finally questioned quietly after holding him for several moments in silence as Ryan looked on in equaled silence.

His only response was a sniffle, and I pressed on even though every fiber of my being told me not to ask, not to strike the wall and collapse it, not to allow the floodgates to break.

"Why do you hate them Bam? What did they do to you?"

He whimpered, short fingernails biting my skin through the fabric of my shirt, and my unprotected skin on my left arm that he clutched in a near death grip. The whimper was repeated and his face was nuzzled further into my neck, as if it would suppress whatever pain he was feeling.

"I hate them..." he repeated, barely above a whisper and I sighed.

"But why?" I asked gently, my handing stroking in a hopefully soothing movement down his back and he shook his head.

"I hate them so much for what they did..."

Finally my eyes lifted to meet Ryan's eyes imploringly but he shook his head. I didn't even have to ask to know that he wouldn't tell me what was wrong with Bam; I had to get it from him myself.

It wrenched my heart to feel him like this, so defenseless and pained in my arms. The way he shivered stopped my heart, and his inability to explain it to me hurt worse. I felt angry at the selfish part of me that was angry that Ryan could know what was wrong and I couldn't.

"Bam, please tell me... please," I whispered the word close to his ear, and he shook again.

"They're such fucking bastards... how could they fucking do that to me?" his already impossibly tight grip tightened, then loosened completely, and he raised his head to look at me, his body shaking slightly with his sniffle. "Ville, they fucking..." his voice was lost, and he hung his head, my head dropping down to catch his last whispered words, almost overshadowed by the sound of my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at the simple pained intonation at forcing out the words: "They fucking raped me..."

My breath caught in my throat and I grasped him for dear life as his tears resurged, my own filling up with a mixture of sadness and anger.

How could they fucking do that to him?

How could anybody do that to him?

To my Bam?

"When?" I questioned frantically through gritted teeth as Bam sobbed into my shoulder, my anger boiling over; I'd never started a fight in my life, but right then I felt like murdering them, in front of Bam's friends and everyone else. I repeated the question to Bam, desperate for an answer, finally looking up to Ryan again, who sighed.

"About a year ago," he finally said quietly, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and moving his eyes to the ground before meeting mine again. "They went out one night... to a party. Steve-O thought it would be funny to drug Bam's drink, and then Johnny started in on Bam..." he paused, thinking of a way to depict the already horrible scene with another detail, "and of course Steve-O, being the bastard he is, couldn't fucking resist joining in on the fun," he spat out the last word, hatred edging every syllable, and my heart swelled with a strange love for the scruffy man standing before me and my hatred for the two men I had met only a few minutes before.

“By the time he had come to his senses and realized what had happened, they had already skipped out on the party, like the pitiful assholes they are."

I now shook with rage, my fists balling and Bam whimpered through his tears at the force I had exerted as I squeezed him protectively to my thin body. “No." I spoke the word defiantly, as though it would, in itself, dispel the painful memory and truth from Bam's mind and the past itself. "No."

But Ryan's nod solidified the truth in my mind and I finally cracked. "Fucking .... Fucking pricks!" I spat out, releasing Bam's small body from my grip and starting toward the bar, not sure of my motives, propelled by the passionate hatred that filled my body. I had walked no more than five steps when the door swung open and out stepped none other than Johnny himself.

I let out a string of hateful curses, rushing toward him, flinging myself onto him with all the strength I could muster, one fist flying through the air to connect with his jaw; a sickening crack met my ears; a pain surged through my hand, and a hurt cry met my ears from Johnny's throat as he stumbled back to hit the wall -- but I cared about neither, screaming as I launched myself toward him again.

I was out to hurt him with every single fiber of my body, get him back for all the pain he had caused Bam. I was out to fucking kill him, no matter who was around.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:31:00 GMT

As we entered the bar, Bam scanned the small building for any sign of his friends; it wasn't long because he spotted them, nudging my arm and plowing through a small group of drunken men to pull up a chair next to a table.

"BAM!" they all pretend screeched as one, catching the attention of many other people in the room, who then looked away as the guys began to giggle drunkenly.

"Fuck, you do still exist, eh? I was beginning to think you fucking died," one of them joked, punching Bam on the arm. Bam smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, just spending a bit of time off."

"By yourself?" another guy questioned, raising an eyebrow suggestively and Bam shook his head.

They guys all cackled again. "Then with who? Who's the lucky lady?"

Bam just flicked them off, raising his hand to a waitress walking around.

It wasn't until after the waitress had left with an order to bring a round for everybody that the attention finally turned to me; until then I had just stood there behind Bam's chair feeling awkward and out of place. I didn't want to interrupt Bam's time with his friends, but I didn't want to be here.

Bam suddenly turned around and nudged me. "Ville?"

I snapped out of my slight trance, "Huh?"

"These are the guys," he gestured around the table, and all of their eyes landed on me. I gave a shy smile and waved a small stupid wave. Bam just laughed and shook his head, pointing to the one closest to us wearing a beanie and a smile that showed he was already several beers deep and could give a shit less what my name was, "This is Raab." He pointed to the next guy, a stockier guy with curly blondish hair and a rather ungroomed reddish beard, "That's Ryan." The guy just nodded at me though not quite looking at me, taking another nonchalant sip from his beer; once again he seemed indifferent to my presence. "That last fucker over there is Dico," he motioned to a balding guy wearing a goofy smile, who waved stupidly at me. "Pull up a chair, dude," he told me, but then reached out and pulled a chair over from another table; I hesitated before taking a seat just as the waitress came back with a tray full of beers.

Thr guys all removed their eyes from me, with the exception of Ryan who had ignored my presence altogether, to cheer for the arrival of the beer. I could hear Bam telling the waitress to go ahead and get another round ready; she smiled flirtatiously before setting off back toward the bar.

Barely catching the smirk on Raab's lips as he chugged his beer, I tried to ignore it all. I tried to just blend in with the scenery, trying to pretend to be neither interested nor disinterested in their conversation as I left my beer untouched on the table.

I could almost hear my name come up a few time and eyes would fall on me and I'd smile politely, though really I just wanted to get out of there... curl up on the couch with Bam, sleep... anything.

"Ville, you okay?" I heard him whisper to me, and I looked up at him; the other guys had immersed themselves in random almost-drunken conversation and it was now that his blue eyes focused on mine.

I knew he didn't mean any harm by it, but I still felt ignored; I just smiled and nodded despite that feeling. His eyes exposed the fact he was trying to force himself to believe me, even though I knew he didn't.

But this connection didn't last long, as a loud voice suddenly rang as if right over our table. "Well I'll be a mother fucker! I haven't seen you assholes in forever!"

Raab and Dico jumped up and ran over to meet whoever had yelled; I turned my head to see two scrawny guys had entered the bar and stood a few feet behind us. Turning back to ask who they were, I stopped as I noticed that Bam's jaw had set and he now clutched his beer in a way that made me think he was trying to crush it in his hand.

My eyes moved to rest on Ryan whose own eyes lingered warily on Bam, a tinge of worry shown there, and I was overcome with confusion. I jerked around as all the guys came back to the table, the two guys pulling up seats much as Bam and I had done.

Bam's eyes were averted to the ground as I turned to ask him who they were; I tried to ignore the merry chatter going on as the groups reunited -- Bam was upset. I looked at Ryan curiously and he shrugged at me before taking another determined sip of his beer.

"Hey, Bam! Not gonna say hi to your old buddies?" the guy on the far end questioned, a crazy smile spreading over his face. Bam looked up and glared.

"Hi."

They laughed and then their eyes fell on me, an almost scary glint showing in their eyes.

"And who is this?" the other one questioned. "This a new friend of yours Bam? What? Not going to introduce us?" The edge to their voices ground on my nerves; Bam's jaw clenched even harder before he released it.

"Johnny... Steve-O... this is Ville -- Ville... Johnny and Steve-O."

I tried to nod politely as I had before but something held me back; not that either one of them noticed as they went back to their merry conversations.

Before I could stop him Bam had risen from the table and started to walk away from everybody; I wanted to follow him, but Ryan had already stood up and followed him, shooting a look back that clearly told me to wait.

I don't know why I listened, but I did; I sat there as they disappeared through the front door and ignored the conversation, which seemed ignorant to the exit of Bam or Ryan; I finally took my beer in hand and took a drink, automatically putting it back down as I remembered how bad I hated the taste.

As the minutes ticked by I grew more and more impatient.

I can't just sit here anymore I thought, curiosity and worry finally getting the best of me. Fuck this...

Without a word, I too stood up from the table, not bothering to excuse myself and headed towards the door.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:26:02 GMT

The days between Bam's admission and his departure were few and quick; I spent most of my time clutched at his side, head leaning on his shoulder as I pondered weakly over how I could possibly survive the days without him.

It was only set to be about two days, three at the most, and that stretch seemed to be unbearable.

Bam tried to calm my mind, but it didn't help at all when he joked that there were times when he was gone for weeks at a time. This had led to me practically sobbing into his arms; I didn't know how I could survive without him for two days, let alone two weeks.

As time passed it became amazing that I was so attached this man, this stunning blue-eyed boy that had opened his heart and home to someone as worthless and detached from his world as I was. But for some reason he still held me tight at night, kissed me softly and held my hand so I gave up the idea of questioning any of his motives.

"We're in love," he whispered to me, before pressing his lips to mine in a way that clearly told me not to question him, "and that's all that matters."

And we were in love -- we had been even before the whispered words of that night; we knew we were in love, even if we had not acknowledged it outwardly.

My heart had stopped beating when he said it; I had only been able to stare at him, mouth hanging open before the response fell from my lips in a hushed rush, my heart breaking in the best of ways as he smiled and kissed me with such force that I thought my bones would break.

How we had fallen in love -- or really, how he had fallen in love with someone like me, was a desperate question, but once again, questions had been tossed from our relationship.

Smiles were never far from our faces, bodies never far from each other, the kisses always loving. I was surrounded by feelings that I had never experienced in my life; it was like being wrapped in the softest, warmest blanket in the world; it was like being a newborn, having no cares in the world except comfort.

And comfort, I had plenty of.

It all seemed so serene until the night before his departure. We had sat around in silence, his hand clutched in mine, both our eyes glued to the TV in silence, both afraid to speak because we didn't know what to say. We hadn't been apart this entire stretch of our knowledge of each other, with the exception of the day he had left, and very few showers, and yet here we were on the edge of it.

Two days...

Might as well be an eternity.

The phone rang and he wordlessly glanced at me, before reaching over me to grab the receiver.

"Hello?" he asked and then pulled the phone away as I heard a string of curses filter into the air from the phone.

I frowned then calmed when he smiled. "Take it you missed me then, fuckers? ... Yeah, I'm leaving tomorrow... Nothing much, just sitting around the house watching a movie... A bar? Well... maybe, hold on a sec?"

His eyes met mine, and he raised his eyebrows in a questioning way; my heart started skipping beats, and somewhere in his eyes I saw him pleading with me. I could imagine that unlike me, he was not happy being separated from the outside world with only one other person...

Then again, he was the only pleasant world I had ever known.

"Fine, go," I said quietly, raising my hand towards the door, forcing a fake smile. "Have fun."

He shook his head. "No, I want you to come with me... meet the guys..."

My eyes widened and I stopped breathing. "Bam -- I -- I can't!"

He laughed. "You met my parents for god's sakes," he made sure to keep his voice low so that it would not transfer to the phone. "You'll be fine... please?"

The pleading in his eyes finally caused me to give in. "Fine."

His smile was so wide I almost feared that his lips would split open; he rushed me with a kiss before pushing the phone back to his ear.

"Yo! Yeah, alright, we'll go... Huh? Oh, I've got a friend here with me," he smiled and winked at me, "s'okay if I bring ‘em along? ... No, it's not a chick dumbass ... Well fuck you, I'm bringing ‘em anyway! See ya in thirty! Late!"

With that he hung up the phone before tossing it to the arm chair.

"You'll be fine," he comforted me, kissing me gently; I nodded even though I was not at all sure I could handle this. I trembled at the thought of meeting someone else close to Bam, having to hide the fact that I was more than just a "random" friend -- having to deal with the questioning...

He smiled in a reassuring way, pulling me up from the couch and wrapping his arms around me. "They're cool guys," he informed me, whispering close to my ear, in a way he knew sent shivers down my spine, melting me in his arms. "Real cool... don't worry about nothin'. And hey, if you really hate it... we'll leave."

I knew I could never force him to leave when he was hanging out with his friends, but I nodded anyway, and he kissed me on the cheek before pulling me upstairs for a quick shower in our last bit of alone time for what I assumed would be quite a while that night.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:21:40 GMT

I blinked, sitting up in the dark; for some reason I couldn't go back to sleep, even though I was still exhausted. In the night Bam had rolled away from me, curled into himself, his back to me. I looked over him, smiling at the content and angelic look on his face.

I just sat there, staring at him, lost in random thoughts, and wondering what he was dreaming of.

Wondering if it could be me.

I smiled faintly and moved back to lay flat on my back, hands clasped on my abdomen, staring at his perfectly painted ceiling. At least in my apartment I had cracks to count...

Not that I'd rather be anywhere but here... even if I have to lay in bed at ... I glanced at the clock, two in the morning with nothing to do.

My mind played slightly with the idea of waking him up but I knew that wouldn't be very nice, knowing he was probably exhausted from the drama of the day, but luckier since his body wasn't waking him up.

Sighing, I rolled onto my side, before finally sliding out of the bed, to move down the stairs and into the living room. I figured if I couldn't sleep I might as well do something, like watch TV.

But to tell the truth I hadn't watched TV in so long, really, or even turned one on in so long, it took quite awhile to decipher between the DVD player, VHS and TV remote. And when I finally got the correct remote, hitting the power button, I nearly jumped out of my skin as the TV came on at full blast. I frantically attempted to turn the volume down, succeeding at first at only changing the channel to a random cartoon, and then only in turning the volume up. When I finally found the right button, I could hear him coughing and cursing slightly under his breath as the floor creaked and he came down the stairs.

I sat there, frozen and guilty, before throwing down the remote onto the couch, and attempting to stare at the TV like nothing was happening, despite the fact that it was something that I had never watched and would never have chosen for myself to watch.

Unexpectedly I heard a laugh from the opening of the door.

"What the fuck is this shit? Why do they play this shit at three in the morning – are there really kids up to watch it?" I finally forced my eyes away from the TV as he sat down next to me. "You woke me up," he stated plainly, picking up the remote and flipping through the channels, until he settled on some random movie I couldn't recognize – I'm not sure if he did either. "You might as well have just watched TV up there."

"I – I didn't want to wake you up," I stammered, and then laughed slightly as he laughed too.

"But you did anyway!"

"You had the TV turned up all the way – it wasn't my fault!" I finally got the voice to proclaim and he laughed again, shaking his head.

"Are you saying it's my fault now?" he mocked, and I nodded, pretending to be serious before squealing with laughter as his hand shot out, clutching my side and then began to tickle me.

Giggles wracked my body as I tried to force his strong hands away, but he continued attacking my side with playful touches until all the breath was gone from my body and I screamed for mercy; finally, he let me go, somehow having maneuvered his way between my legs to lay on my chest. Our eyes just lingered on one another’s for a second, his hand moved up to brush hair off my forehead before he finally leaned down and connected our lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

If kisses had subtitles, this one would been filled with expletives with all the passion I felt from him even in the simple linger of his lips on mine; it was over in a short time, but I could still feel the feeling once he had pulled away; his nose nuzzled against mine, then another kiss as he pushed his hands into my hair to deepen it.

When he pulled away, he was still smiling, a smile that was completely contagious even if you didn't understand it. His thumbs moved against my scalp in a calming motion and I could feel myself relaxing under his every single touch.

Another kiss, then a kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the nose, a kiss on the forehead. He kissed a trail over my face before locking our lips again hungrily.

"God, you're so amazing," he muttered against my lips, and my lids opened lazily to meet his bright blue eyes. He almost looked surprised that he had said it, but I only smiled, lifting my head to meet his lips again.

"I'm nothing compared to you," I stated simply and he shook his head, his curls moving, one tickling my forehead.

"Fuck that," he said softly, and I laughed.

"Fuck a statement?" I couldn't withhold the jeer and he shook his head again, this time laughing.

"I'd rather not... maybe something – or somebody else," he moved his head and body down to place a kiss in the crook of my neck as my hips bucked up at the sudden sensation. "But everything in time."

I nodded, closing my mouth to bite my lip as he nibbled slightly on the flesh of my neck, sucking lightly; bruising; I moaned slightly at the feeling, his short nails biting into the other side of my neck. Finally he pulled away, licking the surely bruised flesh lightly, then kissing it.

"Mine," he whispered into my ear, planting a kiss on my earlobe as well; the feeling of the word enough to send shivers down my spine – or maybe not so much the word, but the connotation of the word. I'd heard the word a thousand times before, but never like that.

He moved up again, meeting my lips, before separating himself to just look wistfully into my eyes.

"It seems like its been so much longer, doesn't it?" he asked me simply, not putting a term on what ‘it' meant specifically -- and I nodded, reaching up to stroke his cheek lovingly, constantly amazed by the deepness of the blue in his eyes, lost in them.

"It feels like I've known you forever..." I whispered back to him, and he smiled a sweet and innocent smile.

"Yeah..." there was a slight pause then, "Ville?"

I moved back out from the deepness of his eyes to just look at him simply, which seemed to be enough for him, watching my eyes focus.

"I – I love you."

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 17:15:24 GMT

"You're LEAVING ME?" I screeched at him, unable to control the anger and surprise coursing through my body. "YOU'RE FUCKING LEAVING ME?"

"Ville – "

"No! How could you! How could you just up and leave me, Bam?!"

"Ville, calm down! It's not that big of a deal – I have to work."

"But I can't be on my own!" I screeched this sentence at him, the dream coming back to my mind. "Don't leave me on my own!" I sank pitifully back down onto the bed, my head falling into my hands. "Bam... don't do this to me... Bam..."

I felt his arms surround me and I was pulled into his thin, strong chest. "I'm not leaving you Ville, but I have to go. I have to make money, do my job. I've been avoiding the rest of life long enough." At this, I let out a defeated little moan and attempted to shrink away from him. "Ville, please calm down, you'll be fine..."

I whimpered and attempted once again to twist away from him, but instead he held me tighter; my throat tightened and I felt my breath pick up as I began to panic at this.

"L-let me go –" I stuttered out to him, but he didn't listen.

"No! I don't want you to run again!"

"LET ME GO!" I shrieked, and my eyes rolled slightly into the back of my head and the world swam in front of me before sliding back into place. Finally, he released me and I fell backwards onto the bed, attempting to keep the world in its place, and calm the seeming explosions in my chest.

"V—Ville, are you okay?" he questioned, unsure, and reached out to touch my arm, but I jerked so violently away from his touch that he automatically pulled back, standing up. "I can't fucking deal with this," I finally heard him proclaim as I stared at his plain bedspread.

I wanted to call out for him to come back, but by the time my throat seemed able to respond, I heard the front door slam.

No.

I hefted myself from the bed, and moved towards the front door, to the sound of his revving car engine stopping at the top of the staircase. "No! Bam! ...Come back..." I whimpered pitifully as I heard his car speed out of the driveway. I sank down to the stair, leaning my head against the railing as a tear streaked down my cheek.

Stop crying, he'll come back. Stop crying. It's not worth it... he'll come back. He won't leave you...

What if he makes me leave... he said he can't handle it...

The house echoed silence back to me as I sat there, wiping away my tears in frustration.

You're not a fucking girl, stop crying, he's going to come back!

But part of my heart was aching and felt unsure of this. Part of me was always unsure about everything... but this was the biggest thing that hurt the most.

My body shook with a snivel, my mind running so slowly yet so quickly at the same time, two trails of thoughts, one above, one under, one hopeful but unsure, one pessimistic and certain that he would come back and kick me out of his house.

Then what would I do?

I just leaned against the railing and stared toward the direction of the front door, just waiting for the sound of his car to return. I wanted to apologize so badly, to just hug him, kiss him. I didn't want him to leave. A skate demo was too far away, even if it was only half way across the country, I didn't want him to go.

I was being selfish – I wanted him all to myself and I didn't care.

But, I realized as my eyes sagged after innumerous hours of staring at the unchanging scenery in front of me, still glistening from tears, I realized that maybe... I'm just not worthy of his love.

I felt arms. One wrapped around my back, the other cocked under my legs, lifting me from the ground. I murmured an intelligible word, twitching slightly.

"Shhh," I heard Bam whisper as he clutched me to his chest, walking with me to somewhere.

"Are you going to get rid of me?" I whimpered at him, recalling the flitting thoughts I'd had of him; the worries that had plagued my mind.

"No, Ville, I'm not going to get rid of you. Why would I do something like that?"

His voice was so soft, and he leaned down, my arms shot out to wrap around his neck, but then relaxed as I felt my back hit the bed.

"Thought you were going... throw me out a window or some'ing," I muttered, turning over to curl slightly, letting out a light groan as I heard him laugh.

"You're such a weirdo," he whispered into my ear, planting a soft kiss at my earlobe; he nibbled slightly before pulling away, and hopping over me to lay on his side of the bed.

His side... like this was my side.

His hand grasped one of mine, and I tried to push myself to wake up. "I'm sorry about running out earlier – I just needed to clear my head."

I nodded.

"This whole thing has been strange for both of us... and really, Ville, I don't want to go... but I have to. And who knows... maybe next time I can take you with me... somewhere foreign, like Europe, you know?"

I nodded as I felt him scoot towards me, one hand resting on the slope of my back.

"I got so lonely without you," he whispered, and my eyes finally opened slightly. "I was only gone for like two or three fucking hours, and I got so lonely, it's pathetic... I even tried to have a few drinks with my friends, but ... even that didn't work," it was not until now that I could smell the slight stale scent of beer on his breath. Used to the smell on several customers I had encountered of the years, I was not happy with that, but nodded anyway, accepting his lips as he pressed them to mine. I clung to him, drifting back off to sleep as he pulled me to his chest, my mind settling, if even for the night.

I'll appreciate what I have for now, I guess and see what happens as it goes on. Now like I have much of a choice.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 06:20:27 GMT

The click blinked 2:16AM at me, as I awoke with a start to a loud banging on the front door. I heard Bam stir beside me, mumbling angrily as he sat up. "Who tha fuckin' shit, man, what the hell," I watched him slowly climb out of the bed and move towards the door. Without hesitation I moved out also, rubbing my eyes and following him from the room, down the steps and toward the front door.

Automatically, Bam unlocked the door, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you better have a good fucking reason for being – what the hell --- "

As soon as the door had even opened a crack, I gasped and stepped backwards, as the most unwelcome sight met my eyes.

"Maxwell," I had barely uttered the name before the door was flung open and Bam's scream met my ears. Before I had even blinked, the scream was cut short and Maxwell's hands were around Bam's throat.

"Think you can run away, you stupid little slut?" he directed toward me as I cowered, watching Bam flail in his arms, "Huh? Think you can just fucking run away like that? No matter where you go, no matter what you do – " he squeezed his hands even tighter around Bam's throat, and Bam flailed, grasping at Maxwell's hands, eyes pleading for me to help, while I shrank against the wall, unable to help him, "no matter where you fucking hide, I'll always find you."

He gritted his yellowed teeth at me, clasping his hands even tighter around Bam's throat, as Bam's eyes rolled back into his head, and his hands stopped clawing at Maxwell's hands.

"Bam!"

Tears sprung to my eyes and I could only let out a small whimper before I collapsed to the floor, my head hitting hard against the wood, as Maxwell's horrible laugh met my ears. "No matter where you fucking go."

I awoke with a jerk to the feeling of someone's hands shaking me; my lids flew open to see Bam's worry filled blue eyes.

"Ville? Ville? Are you okay? Fuck... you scared the shit out of me," he muttered as I sat up straight, bringing my hand up to realize that my cheeks were coated in tears, my breathing erratic. Splashes of the dream flooded back to me and I started crying fresh tears, unable to catch my breath as I could only collapse against Bam as he held me tightly. His hands raked through my hair as he whispered quietly against the top of my head until I had regained control of myself.

"You okay?" he repeated his question once my sobs had subsided. I numbly nodded my head even though I wasn't quite sure I was telling the truth, removing myself from his chest and curling into my knees. He still clung to my side with his fingertips, moving the hair from the back of my neck to place a gentle kiss there.

"Bad dream?" he asked, kissing the spot again, then again as I nodded, pulling me back so that this time I lay against his chest. I would have fought but I was too weak and allowed him to secure me in his arms. "Want to talk about it?"

I blinked attempting to clear the blur of tears from my vision. I knew I wouldn't be able to tell him without losing it even if I wanted to, so I just shook my head, closing my eyes and leaning into his warmth as he pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Okay. Are you sure you're okay though?"

I nodded, not speaking, trying to calm my scattered mind.

The dream had felt so real... I was so scared... so scared of losing Bam.

Finally, my heart rate slowed, thanks to his gentle whispers, strong arms and soft touches, and I could feel myself falling back to sleep. I could make out his movements as he laid me down onto the mattress – I grasped out for him, but he just kissed my cheek, saying he had some business matters to deal with and that he wasn't leaving me for long.

When I woke up next the clock blinked one in the afternoon; I couldn't remember ever having slept that late, and I stretched out almost like a cat, finally relieving the bed of my weight in order to head to the bathroom and relieve my bladder of its pressure.

As soon as I entered, I heard the soft sounds of his shower and smiled, realizing I had yet to shower.

So, off the boxers came and into the shower I slid, smiling as I watched him turn to face me, shampoo bubbles coating his hair. He then smiled, and rinsed his hair quickly before moving to hug his wet body to my only slightly damp one.

"Baam," I whimpered stupidly. "You're getting me all wet."

He laughed and stepped backwards, dragging me directly into the spray so that my hair coated automatically down into my face. Another laugh before he pushed my hair out of the way and kissed me simply, a kiss which I repeated and then deepened, grasping handfuls of his hair and allowing my tongue to slide along his mouth, defying our bodies' need for air.

His fingernails trailed down my sides, and he smiled at me. "Feeling better, I see?" he questioned playfully as he grasped my hips and planted a kiss to the crook of my neck. My eyes relaxed and I nodded.

"Yeah..." I answered, and then remembering his last comment before I slipped off to sleep, "did you get everything taken care of?"

He pulled back and bit his lip. "Well... I, yeah... I need to talk to you about that..."

The serious and sad look in his eyes worried me.

"What?"

"I – let's not talk about it, yet, okay? Let's just... enjoy this moment, okay?" he attempted to dissuade the conversation by kissing me, but I placed my hands to his chest pushing him away, as I felt panic overtaking my heart.

I could think of a million things he could tell me right now, and I didn't want to hear any of them – but I needed to.

"No, Bam, just tell me now!"

His eyes flickered and he shook his head. "This isn't the place, Ville... just... let's wait until we're finished," he tried to kiss me again, but I maneuvered my lips from his path.

"I don't want to wait... just tell me!" he finally stopped protesting at the panicked sound of my voice, turning to shut off the stream of water that had been pelting down on us without my noticing.

"Okay... but, Ville... try not to freak out – it's really that big of a deal, I mean it's just... let's get out of here first, get dressed..."

Shakily, I followed him out of the shower, toweling myself off and pulling on a new pair of boxers in a rush, waiting for him on his bed as he took his dear sweet time to join me and deliver whatever horrible news he had.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 06:17:16 GMT

I watched his parents retreat down the hall, and towards the living room, before I turned on Bam, who was closing the door.

"Bam! I'm not ready – for this!" I stuttered at him and he just smiled a cocky smile and shook his head, pulling me into a brief hug.

"Sweetie, don't worry about it..." he fingers ghosted over my lower back and I bit my lip. "Just... play along with everything."

I blinked at him, then looked back down the hall where I could hear Ape and Phil's voices. "Play along?"

Play along?

"Yeah... you know... just agree with – "

"I know what play along means Bam, I was a fucking whore! ‘Just play along, moan like you're a girl.' ‘Just play along like I'm the sexiest person you've ever fucked.'" I whispered angrily, my eyes clouding over, and his smile fell.

"Ville – "

"No! What exactly am I playing along with? Huh?" even I was surprised by the anger that had wormed its way into my voice. "Do they not know that you like boys, Bam? Is that what I'm playing along with? Or do they know, but you just don't want them to know that you're with me, so I'm just supposed to play along like we're just friends, and all this shit hasn't happened?"

I regretted my words almost immediately, the way his eyes fell closed and he leaned against the wall. I could tell he was frustrated and conflicted, but inside I was ready to cry, and just leave. I was so tired of always playing along with everything in life – I thought now things were supposed to change.

"Ville... it's just... I don't know how to tell them... that... you know – "

"You don't have to tell them that I was a whore, Bam!" I looked down the hall.

"No, it's not that, its just I don't know how – they've never even met you... and you're – you're living with me and I just – " the outwardly so confident Bam was failing at how to tell his parents something about us. I didn't know how to take this.

"Bam... just... whatever, fine, I'll play along..." I finally granted him to spare any more of this painful conversation, as April's voice trailed to our ears from the living room. "But... not forever. You can't do that to me."

I locked eyes with him, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to me lips. "I would never do that," he whispered against my lips in a sad but reassuring tone. "I would never – just... I can't do it right now. I know you don't understand, but – "

"It doesn't matter if I understand; it's what you want to do, so just do it."

His eyes were not leaving mine, and his lip was pulled into his mouth, the small cut still barely visible, as was his lightly bruised eye. Then he just nodded and turned off toward the living room and his parents, and I followed closely behind him.

My eyes shifted over his parents nervously as I settled onto an armchair, hands folding in my lap, forcing a faulty smile as Bam settled into an armchair on the other side of the couch from me. April didn't miss a beat in started the awkward questioning.

"So, Ville, how long have you known Bam?" she asked, a bright smile taking over her face as her eyes moved from Bam to I.

"Uhh..."

"I just met him like a few days ago," Bam interrupted me; "he's a cool guy. Met him at a bar down on Newman's Street."

"Oh," April continued smiling, nodding like Bam meeting friends in a bar was a common occurrence.

For all I knew, it was.

"Did you grow up around here?" she questioned.

"Uh," rather than explain all of my past, I opted for a simpler answer. "Yeah, I've lived here for as long as I can remember," I smiled, hoping it would please her, and it did. She just nodded and turned to interrogate Bam. Relieved to be lifted of focus, I sighed and settled back into my seat, looking away awkwardly when I noticed Phil's eyes resting on me in a questioning manner.

I shifted uncomfortably as I watched them continue their random discussions; finally I gave up trying to sit there as Bam made up long stories about what he had been doing for the past few days and what had happened to his eye and lip as April's eyes rested on him in disbelief and excused myself to the bathroom.

The room went silent as I left, and I knew that as soon as I was gone I would once again be the center of discussion, this time without me there.

Curiosity, of course, got the best of me, and I leaned against the wall just outside the door to listen to what they had to say even though I knew it was wrong and I half feared what might come.

The lag between my exit and the intent questioning of Bam was very short.

"So, Bam, what's the deal with this guy? Is he living here?" April automatically asked, and I could almost visualize her gesturing toward the door that I had disappeared through.

"Well... yeah, sorta. I just kinda met him, he seemed like a cool guy, you know? Needed a place to stay..."

"He does seem nice, Bam, but you can't just take in random guys you meet!" she protested, and I heard Phil clear his throat in an unsure manner.

"Well, it's not like he's dangerous, Ape."

"But – "

"Mom, trust me I can take care of myself," I heard Bam protest in an aggravated manner. "What, do you think he's going to kill me in my sleep, cause I'm very sure that ain't gonna happen."

There was silence.

"So, he's just your friend, right Bam?"

The question hit me like a ton of bricks, and my breath caught in my throat, I would not have expected that question to come up like that, and apparently neither did Bam judging by the silence he allowed to fill the room before Phil cut in.

"April, I don't really think that that's our business. You know Bam, if he's got something to say, he'll say it. Always has."

More silence, and finally I couldn't bare it any longer and moved back into the room, automatically to my chair, in an attempt to cut the suspense that was plaguing my mind. A glance at Bam told me he was thankful that I had cut off the questioning, which, judging by the look on April's face, she did not intend on continuing.

Instead she stood up, the smile plastered on her face, "Well, it's good to see you're still alive there Bam," she gestured him up and hugged him tightly. "And it was nice to meet you Ville," she nodded to me, a motion I returned as Phil shook my hand before moving to hug Bam. "Next time don't disappear – I don't need thousands of phone calls from your friends wondering where the hell you are!"

Bam and I both laughed and followed them out the door, closing it quickly once they had climbed into a purple car with a final wave. As soon as we were out of view, Bam leaned against the door, staring at the floor. I simply stood there, waiting for him to say something.

But he didn't speak, instead he just reached out to grasp my hand and pulled me into a hug, sighing into my shoulder as he ran his fingers over my back in slow circles.

"Bam?" I finally asked, pulling back and looking at him; he lifted confused looking eyes to meet mine, I faltered for a second before finally asking: "They don't know, do they?"

He shook his head and looked down at the ground. "They suspect, but I haven't admitted to anything... I don't... how the fuck could I tell them something like that, after twenty-six fucking years?"

"I don't know... just tell them? They seem like they'd understand, especially Phil, I mean he seemed – "

"It's not that simple, though, Ville! I have a career, friends, a whole life, everything would change," his eyes were clouded with a sad attempt at suppressed fear. "Everything would change..." His head fell back to my shoulder, and I didn't know what else to do other than to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight, until a muffled sentence caught my ears and I pulled back.

"What?" I questioned and he shook his head.

"It's just... how can I tell them that I just figured it out less than a year ago?"

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 06:12:26 GMT

Comfort.

It was not something that I was accustomed to with my meager life. But Bam's life seemed to be immersed in it. Everywhere I looked, everything I touched was comfort. Especially Bam.

We had settled back into his bed, his arms roped around me, and it was sinking in that I was getting used to that word.

Comfort.

His fingers had worked their way under my shirt, gently caressing my skin with light touches that made goose bumps erupt where his fingers had been. His lips fell gently to my neck, licking lightly before he nibbled slightly; I moaned, feeling my body tingle with a want that I was becoming accustomed to as I leaned back into brushing against his growing erection. His hitched breath met my ears as his fingers ceased their movement on my skin, leaving us in a motionless silence, with the exception of the rise and fall of our breathing.

"You make me happy, Ville," he broke the silence with a whisper in my ear, and my eyes fell closed, his breath on my ear only adding to my growing hardness, his words causing my heart to skip slightly.

"Oh?" I whispered into the air when I realized I hadn't responded. His head moved in a nod, his chin leaning against my neck with varying bits of pressure as he squeezed me with his arms.

"Very."

My mind could find no words that would necessarily further the conversation, so I chose only to move my hand and place it on top of his; his hand lifted and his fingers threaded through mine, fitting in together like a key in a lock.

He let out a sigh; not a sad sigh, but possibly contentment. "Thank you for that."

My heart just fluttered more, and I could only protest, "No, thank you..."

I could feel him shaking his head. "You – "

"Oh, just hush," a laugh fell hesitantly out of my mouth, before I lifted his arm, turning myself to face him, lips meeting in a sweet and unrushed kiss. Our tongues lazily met and lingered; tasting, feeling.

His arm wrapped itself around my waist again, and then I was rolled on top of him, one leg automatically moving to either side of him in a straddle, his hands clasped mine.

Chest to chest, hips to hips, lips to lips.

It can't get better than this.

When our lips parted for only a split second I glimpsed his smile.

"I make you happy too, then?" he questioned playfully, and I only silenced him with a kiss – a way that was certainly becoming routine in an almost frighteningly short amount of time.

And this is how it continued for a short while; we spent hours locked inside the house, tongues dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, hands never wandering below the sweet stretch of skin above the beltline, neither wanting to step over the line that was unspoken.

We were happy, we were together, separate from the rest of the world.

He ignored any and all phone calls, house phone ringer switched off, cell phone tossed to side; he knew eventually this would get attention, he had stated, maybe even worry people... then again, people would expect something like this of him.

An eyebrow had risen at this. "They would expect you to pick up a hooker, buy them clothes, get in a fight with their pimp," at this, he touched his now mostly healed lip, "have them move in with you, and then spend days locked inside your house with them?"

He only nodded, laughing. "Something like that... not that I've done it before," he added quickly when my eyes narrowed suspiciously, pushing a hand through my hair and bring my lips to his, "but really, they wouldn't put anything past me."

The ignored phone calls were enough to quell interruptions until one day, there was a knock at the door.

Bam had stepped into the shower only minutes before, so as soon as the ring sounded through the house I became worried. "BAM!" I screamed, "Bam!"

I peaked out through the living room curtains to see a blond woman and rather heavyset man standing on the front porch, before running back to the bottom of the stairs. "BAM! Get down here! There's someone at the door!"

I heard a muffled response and panicked slightly. "BAM!"

"Just go answer the damn door! I'll be down in a minute!" I finally heard him yell down the stairs, sounding slightly agitated.

Attempting to soften my breathing, a million questions about Bam's life filtered through my brain.

Did his family and friends know he was gay? Were they used to random people ending up at Bam's house? Were these people his parents? Aunt and uncle?

I stepped towards the door as the doorbell rang again and a heavy knock shook the door slightly. "Bam! C'mon, open up!" the woman called through as my hand fell on the door knob.

No big deal, Ville, I tried to tell myself, just tell them you're...

But I had opened the door to their surprised faces before I had fully thought out what exactly it was that I was going to say.

The woman's eyes were wide with slight shock and confusion, the man looking only politely curious. "Um... hi... uh... is Bam here?" she questioned slowly, peering into the short entrance hall.

"Uhh... yeah," I looked behind me, biting my lip. "He's... in the shower..."

"Oh... okay," she responded, and tried to avert her eyes from looking over me as I turned my head back to face her. "And... who might you be?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, not sure whether or not to state simply my name, that I was a friend, something more – hell even I didn't know what my title was.

"I'm – "

"Ape... Phil, this is Ville... my new friend," I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt his presence behind me and his voice cut my necessary explanation short, the accented word throwing me off slightly. "Ville... this is Ape and Phil."

The woman's face broke into a polite smile, before she rolled her eyes and reached out her hand. "Otherwise known as his parents," she explained and I shook her hand and my mouth dropped open slightly.

I'm not ready to meet his parents!

I turned and looked at him with a bit of panic in my eyes, noting he was dressed in only a towel wrapped around his waist, wet hair stuck down to his forehead, a few small curls sticking up, playing off the boyish grin smothering his face. I noted that his eyes shone differently now, with a new personality almost, a forced carefree.

His mother looked us over before she finally questioned, "So... can we come in, or are you going to make us stand out here all day, Bam?"

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 06:07:44 GMT

"So, do you like it?" he questioned me, staring into the mirror from behind me. "I know it's not too great, but it's better than nothing, you know?"

I smiled at him, unsure of what to say, so decided to protest for what had to have been the hundredth time that day. "Bam, really, you don't have to buy me – "

"Shut up, Ville," he laughed at me, shaking his head. "Seriously. Now, do you fucking like it, or not?"

I stalled, and he rolled his eyes. "Take it off. We're buying it. Who knows what else you might get if you stick around," he muttered, and turned to leave the dressing room. I was slightly startled, but just shook my head as he disappeared.

Twenty minutes later, we were checking out, with not only the outfit I had just tried on, but two others, despite my protests, as well as a pair of shoes, and enough undergarments to last me for at least a year. With many rolls of his eyes he paid and led me from the store, eyes scanning for more screaming fans as he also promised me tons of Adio and Element shirts when he got back to his house. I only laughed and looked back down at the ground, slightly embarrassed.

When we had settled into the car, I felt his fingertips touch my cheek gently. "Ville?"

"Yeah?"

He faltered and then just said, "You don't really mind that I'm buying you this shit do you? I mean... I don't mean it insulting... I just want to... spoil you... you know?"

A laugh left my throat. "I don't mind it... it's just not something that I'm used to." He smiled back at me and then pulled out of the parking spot.

"Good."

We drove for a short while before a thought popped into my head. "Uh... can you take me to my apartment?"

His eyes flitted to me, and I couldn't help but notice the slight look of disappointment that shone in his eyes. "Do you want to go home?" he questioned and I bit my lip.

"You don't want me to?"

He looked at me as we stopped at a stop light. "I – "

"Well, I just wanted to get some stuff... check on some things, you know..."

"Oh... okay." He looked relieved. "Where is it?"

I directed him towards the apartment, and when we stopped, I got out of the car, he followed me, causing me to stop. "What are you doing?"

He blinked as if confused by the absurdity of my question. "Going in with you."

I blushed and faltered -- there was no way in hell I wanted him to see the way I lived... especially in comparison to his house, my place was a dump. "No – you don't need to do that..."

"But, Ville, what if he's in there?"

I knew by ‘he' he meant Maxwell, and I couldn't help but laugh despite my still flushed cheeks.

"Maxwell may be pissed off... but he's not pissed enough to sit around in my apartment all day. He's got plenty of other shit to do."

He shook his head in a ‘you never know' gesture and I finally just sighed, giving up and realizing again that Bam was definitely the kind of guy who would get whatever he wanted.

"Fine, come on."

We continued into the building, my cheeks still slightly flushed and my heart beating abnormally from my lingering embarrassment, attempting to prepare myself from his probably disgusting reaction at the state in which I lived.

But as we entered, I wasn't worried at all about my embarrassment – shock was the reigning emotion in my mind.

My entire apartment had been ransacked; my mattress ripped to shreds, turned over, the lamp shattered. All of my few dishes lay in shards on the floor, my few items of clothing ripped, spread along the carpet; anything of any little value that I had owned was completely destroyed. I could tell without even checking that he had found my hiding space and taken what little money I had put up.

I shook, and felt Bam's arms surround me as soon as I felt the shake spread to my knees, my balance faulting.

"He – I can't believe he..."

A tear streaked down my cheek and I moved further into the apartment, picking up a ripped shirt from the floor and then tossing it to the side. "He ruined everything. Every-fucking-thing."

But Bam's mind wasn't on my ruined property. "Ville... you're not safe here..."

My eyes jerked in his direction, squinted in frustration at the stupidity of the statement. "Like I have any other choice but here? I don't have anywhere else to go... this is my home!"

I could hear his exasperated sigh. "That's what you said about whoring too -- You don't have any family?"

I turned on him. "Do I look like I have anybody that gives a shit about me, Bam?" I gestured down my body. "Do I look like I have a family member that would take me in and keep me safe? Huh? No, I didn't think so."

I sank down onto the box spring of my former bed, perched on the side. "It's just not always that easy, I'm sorry if you think it is."

My head fell into my hands and I stared at the floor. I could almost feel his next question coming from the back of his mind, but was still unsure of how to respond even when it came up.

"Why don't you come stay with me?"

The question hit me like a ton of bricks and I sputtered.

"Bam, I couldn't do that – you hardly know me – I – "

"Dude, I just bought you like three outfits today, I've taken you out to dinner, let you sleep at my place, gotten into a fight for you, given you, what, like a hundred-fifty dollars, and you're still telling me that you don't think its right for me to do something for you? I have a big house – two spare bedrooms. Plenty of space, and I'm living there alone. Where exactly is the problem? Please point it out, because I don't really see it."

I stayed silent.

"Just... get your shit and come on."

I looked up at him, mind how racing in contrast to the locked state of my mind from earlier. "What if you end up hating me?" I questioned innocently. "And then what? I have Maxwell even more pissed off at me when I come crawling back with no other options? What if you don't want me around anymore – what the fuck do I have then?"

He sighed and his hands were thrust into the air, frustration apparent in his face. "Is that where you jump automatically? Do you want me to hate you? Oh, did I forget to mention how I've chased after you like three times, just to keep you long enough to talk to you... what else do I have to do to prove to you that I want you around?

"And in that highly unlikely event that I won't want you around anymore... well, then, iunno, but why not change shit for right now? We deal with that then, if it fucking happens."

I looked at him, shaking, but my mind finally made up. "Fine. We'll see what fucking happens. I swear to god, Bam, if you – " but he cut me off with a sweet kiss to my lips.

"I knew you'd see it my way, beautiful."

Blinking, I could only laugh at him, even in the midst of my tattered and ruined life.

Past life.

"Get your shit," he gestured, and I looked around, and gave him a look that made him shake his head. "Okay then... well... go get in the fucking car then," he gave me a sweet smile, kissing my cheek as I passed, his fingertips dancing across my hip as he followed me out the door, shutting it, that final click reaching my ears for what I hoped would be the last time in my life.

Things are going to change... Hopefully for the best.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 06:02:59 GMT

I awoke in the midst of soft, shallow comfortable breaths, to the soundtrack of Bam's light snores. I smiled at myself, oddly comforted by the weight of his arm slung across my bare waist and the feeling of his skin against my back, a slight sheen of sweat from out body heat, the pulled slightly when I moved to climb out of the bed..

The snores stopped immediately and he yawned, blinking at me. "Wher'ya gonn?" he garbled out, rubbing his eyes and sitting up to look suspiciously at me through blurry eyes.

I smiled slightly. "Bathroom."

"Oh," and then he fell back onto the bed. "Good."

He probably thinks I'm going to run again, I thought, after I had finished my business and stared intently into the mirror, wiping at my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to get it to straighten, and disliked the feeling of the last few days greasy buildup between my fingers.

I looked longingly at the shower, debating, and then shrugged.

He probably wouldn't even notice if I just showered... he'd probably already fallen asleep again anyway.

I leaned in through the open glass door, turning the knobs to start the shower, testing the warm water on my arm; the feeling was amazing and I quickly slid out of the boxers and into the jet of water. A sigh of pleasure escaped my lips and I quickly rinsed my hair, smiling from just sheer relief.

The water heater at my apartment hadn't been working properly for quite awhile, and this had to be one of the best feelings I'd ever experienced, next to the feeling of Bam's lips, and the comfort of his bed.

Smiling slightly, I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, turning so that my eye caught a dark shape through the fogged glass, I was startled at first before sliding the door to the side and peaking my head out of the shower and looking to see Bam leaning on the door frame with a bemused expression on his face, one hand scratching his lower stomach.

"Making yourself at home?" he questioned sleepily, and I only nodded.

"I was dirty."

He snickered slightly at my response and moved to the mirror, raking his hands through his hair much like I had done before in place of responding, though I'm sure his mind had come up with a million things to say. "Do you want to go somewhere and get breakfast?"

I almost turned down this request when my stomach growled angrily. "Sure."

He smiled. "Okay... I'll put some clothes out here for you... and we'll go get something."

No less than ten minutes later I had climbed out of the shower, much to my distaste and dried myself on a towel, quickly slipping into the oversized jeans and Element shirt Bam had laid out for me. The shirt seemed new, and it felt strange to be wearing something so masculine. I looked into the mirror and noticed that the strange feeling was also a strange look, one which Bam quickly realized as I emerged from the bathroom.

"Damn, did you drown in there, I was about to call the – whoa. Don't you look... normal." He raised and eyebrow and I laughed slightly at this, tugging at the hem of the shirt in uncertainty. "Is that a bad thing?" I questioned him and he shook his head, standing from his place on the foot of the bed and coming towards me. I twitched slightly, and then relaxed into his welcoming arms as he kissed my cheek softly, catching a small drop of water that had been trailing down my skin. "Not at all."

"Good," I managed, attempting to almost sound sure and certain, but that attempt was drowned out as he pushed his lips lightly to mine. My mouth opened automatically, and we shared a slow, sensual kiss.

He pulled back with a slight laugh and I could imagine the offended look I had just given him.

He shook his head, rubbing his lips. "We need to brush our teeth... Even the cutest ones have morning breath."

Thirty minutes, a brushing of teeth and some more sweet kisses later we were pulling from his driveway towards town, feeling overwhelmed by just how normal this all felt.

How easily it had come to me.

But an overbearing voice in the back of my mind told me not to think about it, so I shoved it out of my mind just as we pulled up beside a rather nice looking diner, a contrast to the one the night before. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in, smiling warmly to the hostess the greeted, and I figured he must come here often.

Maybe I can start coming with him.

I smiled slightly but shook the thought from my head and enjoyed my meal, afterwards allowing Bam to drive me around town, pointing out things that I hadn't even known existed. After a bit of a drive, we pulled up outside of the mall, Bam reaching over to jerk a beanie over his head after retrieving it from the backseat.

"Trying not to be too obvious," he muttered, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to my lips. "Try not to get separated from me... cause I really don't feel like having to chase after you again..."

Even though I was rather confused by this statement, I followed him into the mall anyway, shrugging it off. We were part of the way to some random destination when I finally understood what he had meant as a small girl, no more than fourteen, stopped in her tracks, dropping her bag and starting to shiver violently, mouth opening like a fish for a few seconds, no sound coming out.

"B—B—BAM!" she finally let out an ear piercing shriek that caused me to cover my ears. Bam's eyes darted around, just in time to see a large group of teenagers dressed in clothes smothered in his name stop their lazy walk through the mall. My arm automatically reached over, clinging to his forearm and he let out a small laugh.

"Run."

I only heard the word, and then I was obeying, running from a screaming hail of teenagers, the girl's voices ringing high above with emotion and the boys screaming loud obscenities. We ran into Sears, the nearest department store, and dodged through the clothing racks, footsteps muffled on the carpeting of the women's section. "Dressing room!" he whispered loudly and grabbed my arm, flinging me into the small indent in the wall, and into a small cubicle.

Breathing heavily, I looked over to see him pressing an ear to the door, hearing the confused voices of his fans outside. "Shit, man, I need a better fucking disguise I guess," he grinned dumbly at me, as I heaved, searching for breath, amazed by everything that had just happened within ten seconds of walking into the mall.

"Does this happen all the time?" I asked eyes wide. "I mean – that... do they always – "

He just smiled and cut me off with a soft and unexpected kiss, before muttering. "Yeah, they're crazy."

I hadn't even been into a mall in a few years, let alone been mobbed by screaming fans of a man I had only met a few days earlier and who now held my hand in a warm, reassuring manner, though laughing at my shock.

"Ville, s'all good, I swear. They go away, we just have to wait them out."

"How long does that take?" I questioned and he shrugged.

"Sometimes it only takes a few minutes, sometimes longer. Gotta say the company is better than my last time stuck in a dressing room," he smiled. "I was by myself," he explained when I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh... okay," I blushed slightly at my stupidity and looked down at the floor just in time for Bam to move over and pull me to his chest with one arm, the other tangling into my hair and bringing my lips to his in a kiss that caused my body to almost go limp. Tingles and shivers swept my body, and I mused at the fact he could still make me feel this well with the same action.

When our kisses finally subsided an immeasurable amount of time later, he pressed his ear to the door again.

"I think we're clear..." he informed me, grasping the door knob in my hand in his hands. "Now, lets go get you some clothes that fit properly."

"You don't have to – " I began to protest, but a shake of his head silenced me, as he lead me to the men's department up an escalator.

"I do... you can't keep wearing my clothes... they don't fit you... at all," he took this time to pluck at the oversized jeans I was wearing as we stepped off the escalator. My eyes looked down at his hand, just in time to distract me from my step and I stumbled forward, blushing stupidly before I had even fallen into his arms.

"Try not to kill yourself, okay? We don't want that..." he lips graced my cheek softly before setting me back upward, eyes darting around the almost deserted department while my heart fluttered in my chest. "Alright... no more running up here, good?"

I just nodded and followed him, though I really knew I didn't mind running with him away from a million screaming fans as long as he kept kissing me like he had in that dressing room.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:51:18 GMT

I led him to the bed and crawled over to the opposite side, releasing his hand only when necessary to support myself, hand sinking deep into the soft bedding.

I felt his hand fall to my hip for only a brief second before I flipped myself and settled onto the bed with the biggest sigh I'd ever let out in all my memories.

He was right – this bed was amazing. He gave me a small, shy smile and crawled into the bed next to me, scooting his body close to my back as I closed my eyes in immediate relaxation as the feeling of a soft bed enveloped me.

"You like my bed?" he whispered unnecessarily into my ear as he pulled me back against his chest, his arms securely around my waist. I nodded though, my eyes shut, and concentrating on the feeling of his breath blowing soft hot trails across my neck. His fingers moved in small strokes over my lower abdomen and my breathing was irregular, the light tickling stirring strange feelings in me.

Rarely was I ever horny; being used for sex had always made it so meaningless to me. I was never one to initiate, or even enjoy though I had always ‘gotten off', but something in the way that Bam's fingers moved... And something deep down wanted to thank him, in the only way that I knew how.

He had already helped me so much in this short space of time... sex always made my ‘clients' pleased... maybe...

I turned around to face him, catching him off guard as I pressed my lips to his, allowing my tongue to slip out and swipe across his lips before it was accepted into his mouth and massaged slowly with his. My fingers trailed over his hip bones and settled on the elastic of his boxers. I slipped one finger under them, and moved to kiss his neck as my hand attempted to slip inside to feel him.

I could feel myself hardening inside the thin boxers, and my body suddenly went cold as I felt his hand grasp mine and pulled it out of his boxers as soon as I touched the coarse pubic hair.

"What are you doing, Ville?" he questioned quietly and I moved my head back to look at him.

"Th – thanking you..." I stuttered slightly embarrassed at having to explain myself and attempting to remove my hand from his grasp and push it under the cloth again, but he held my hand more tightly and I winced slightly, looking at him in confusion.

"No... I – why – why would you think that I would want that?" he seemed almost angry, a sudden contrast to the way he had just been treating me, his strong grip on my hand almost painful. Tears shot to my eyes, and I looked at him, blinking furiously and pulling my hand away finally.

"I thought that – I thought maybe you..."

And then, before I could stop him, he was moving away from me, and out of the bed. "I don't want you to think you have to do something like that Ville. I don't want you to do something like this! You don't have to thank me!"

I bit my lip and sat up in the bed, the covers falling to a pool around my hips. "Yes, I do! And this is the only thing I have to offer."

He sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't get it. You just don't..." he stepped back and moved in a small circle, before coming to a halt in his original position beside the bed. "I don't want the sex, Ville! I just want you! You fucking being here is enough thanks for me! Why would I want what so many people have had?"

These words stung, and I knew he regretted them immediately; he knew they had hit me wrong, but he didn't cave, and just bit his lip.

"Bam – I – you – "

"Just... I'm going to go sleep in the other room, Ville, because I don't want anything stupid to happen between us... I don't want it to be like everything else... that's not the point."

He leaned forward and cupped my cheek in his hand. "That's not it at all, Ville... I thought you knew that already..."

His thumb wiped away a tear that stole down my cheek and I attempted to open my mouth to protest but he shook his head and left the room, leaving me to sink back into the bed in defeat.

The bed was big and empty, and I was left to think about how suddenly things had changed, and how I was now left alone. Nothing had changed, except the comfort that this bed provided was now cold.

"Damnit... god ... damnit," I cursed myself, balling the blanket between my hands.

Somehow I always managed to screw things up. Somehow I always managed to just... I drew in a shaky choked breath, attempting to ignore the small voice screaming at me to go and follow him, apologize.

But there was another voice. Another voice that told me to leave. Told me to just run. This time he wouldn't be there to stop me.

He was pissed at me, and I'd probably ruined everything, what reason did I have to stay? I'd had one chance and I'd screwed it all up. I slipped from the bed, looking around for my clothes. He'd put them in the connected bathroom, and I moved in there, finding them and feeling them.

They were still soaked. I moved to pull them on again and cringed at the feeling of the wet clothing on my skin. I could still hear the rain pattering outside, and I didn't have a clue how I'd get home, but I'm sure if I could just find someone to pull over... a man...

Something echoed that I was overreacting, but I still slid out, retracing the steps I'd taken earlier, toward the front door. I passed the kitchen and stopped instantly as I caught sight of him slumped onto the kitchen table, head in his hands and a cup of coffee steaming on the table.

I held my breath and stared at him, finally shaking my head, and trying to move again; all too late I realized that the brush of wet denim on denim caught his ears and he jerked his head up.

"Ville –" then his eyes fell to my clothes. "No. You're not leaving again... why would you?"

I trembled, faltered, whatever the word was. "I – I'm..."

He looked so hurt as he stayed seated at the table, slumped in defeat. "Fine... if you want to leave, then go. I can't stop you, and apparently I'm not enough to hold you. Go."

I stood there, trembling and scared at the resignation in his voice, eyes flitting between his unchanging form and the direction of the door, and I was so torn.

Why do I keep fucking running?

"No," the word ripped from my mouth before I could stop it and I moved towards him, my feet moving on their own, the screaming part of my brain frozen. "I can't. No."

And I stepped to him, he stood and pulled me to him, my form accepting his arms graciously, fitting into my waist as if we were made for each other.

If I was a more sentimental person I'd say we were.

My damp clothes wet his skin, but he ignored them, and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered into my ear, clutching me tightly, stroking my back over the wet cloth.

I still didn't understand why he wanted me to stay so badly, but I resigned myself, hopefully for the last time, that I wouldn't run anymore.

No more. It's not worth hurting him. Not worth hurting the only person who had ever shown me kindness.

His hand moved from my back and grasped mine and soundlessly he lead me back to his bedroom. I slid myself out of the wet clothes, the boxers remaining slightly damp. I ignored them, but Bam still retrieved a new pair and handed them to me, picking up my clothes and leaving me alone for enough time to slip the new pair, the bigger pair swallowing me, hanging from my hips even more loosely than the previous pair had.

Still, I moved and slid into bed, waiting until he slid into the opposite side and moving closer to him. His hand stroked my face, pushing the hair from my forehead backwards. His lips met mine and he stared directly into my eyes.

"No more fucking running. I'm too old for this shit."

I let out a small laugh and moved to press my body to his, comforted as I fell asleep a while later by the warmth of his skin, his arm around my waist and the comfortable silence that swallowed the room.

No more running.

Somehow, that means more than just leaving.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:50:04 GMT

The feeling that stole my lips was incredible; I'd never felt like this before, or been accustomed the tingle that ran through my body in the short seconds that our lips touched innocently, his arms moving to encircle my waist and pull me to him. I felt his mouth open, his tongue touch my lips.

I almost gave in.

Almost.

Instead I panicked at these new feelings, the falling feeling I felt, almost as if the world was being swept out from under me; I pushed away from him, though he tried to hold me.

How many times had I pushed away from him, and left him with that same, startled and wounded look in his crystalline eyes?

"What?" he asked breathlessly, frowning, his eyes scanning mine. I took another step back, rain drops still soaking my hair, though I scarcely noticed them. "Ville? Please..."

I shook my head violently and looked at the quickly mudding ground. "Bam, this can't happen!"

"We've been over this Vi – "

"You're not supposed to kiss me!"

"WHY?!" his voice cut in and I locked eyes with him. Frustration was evident and his fists were balling. "I want you, Ville, I want more than just your fucking body or a warm fucking hole, and you keep fucking pushing me away!"

"You're not supposed to kiss me!" I repeated the protest and bit my lip. "You don't kiss whores!"

In response he stepped forward, his hands finding both sides of my face and crashing his lips to mine again in a split second defiant kiss. "I can do what I want," he breathed against my lips and my hands moved up subconsciously to cover his, my hands warming from the fiery heat emanating from his flesh. "Stop telling me what I'm not supposed to do... I don't care. I don't fucking care."

I tried to just focus on breathing as it became a struggle.

Here I stood, in the rain, right next to possibly the most perfect man in the world; I'd resigned myself to falling already and yet I still clung to the jagged edges of the pit, scared.

Why am I doing this? Why won't I just let myself fall?

Because pain is a certainty... this is not. Pain is something real... this... well, I don't know.

His eyes were staring into mine in silence and he didn't move his lips, but I heard streams of words through his honest eyes. So young, so innocent, so much better than me; I cast my own eyes down at the ground, but he raised my head and forced me to look at him.

"Why can't you look at me? Why won't you let me kiss you? I'm sorry I was so sudden, Ville, it just seemed... it seemed like the thing to do. It's not bad, Ville... it's not bad to feel this way. To be happy. I can make you happy. Why are you still fighting?"

How many times had he asked that question?

As many times as I've pointlessly fought, all the while knowing the my nails were breaking and soon I'd have no grip left to hold on...

I'd fall eventually. That's a certainty.

My lip trembled and the rain continued falling all around me like teardrops from the sky, though for once I didn't cry. I was trying to hold it in, or maybe I was too wrapped in thoughts to do anything as superficial as cry.

"I'm not used to being kissed," I muttered. I didn't know why I muttered but he heard me all the same.

"Your..." he searched for a better word, I'm sure, but settled for a simplistic form instead, "customers don't try to kiss you?"

I shook my head violently. "No...You don't kiss whores. They know that. They don't want to. Nobody wants to."

His body was against mine again, pulling me tightly into his soaked chest, his nose nuzzling my cheek. I sighed lightly, trying to quell the feelings that stirred within my chest at these soft adoring touches, and loosing that control, as I heard his whispered words following. "I want to."

I didn't even catch his eyes, as mine fell closed as he pressed his lips more slowly to mine, waiting for me to startle and pull away; but for once I didn't. I pressed my lips back to his, just enjoying the lingering sensation of heated flesh on flesh.

He opened his mouth and moved his tongue to touch my lips only this time I reciprocated, allowing him entrance; for the first time our tongues touched, a jolt of seeming electricity rode through my body at this new sensation – at my first real, true kiss.

The grips are gone, I'm falling. If there's a bottom, maybe he'll be there to catch me... maybe not. If not, I'll fall forever with the memory of this feeling.

He held me so tightly, his lips against mine until finally we parted, panting lightly for breath and from exhilaration, and the change of the light in his eyes was enough to bring a true smile from his face.

As if I was actually making him happy... like I could make someone happy...

A small kiss was placed against my lips and then he was the one to pull away, my body automatically mourning the loss of warmth and contact as he grasped my hand. He nodded towards the house and I followed, willing to follow him wherever he led, to the ends of the earth, to anywhere.

We ended up in his bedroom, he peeled his wet shirt from his body and I hungrily devoured the sight of his form as he turned and disappeared into the connected bathroom, re-emerging with towels a short second later.

He moved automatically to me, unfolding the towel and moving it through my hair to dry it; he touch was soft and I knew it wasn't very effective but I could care less. Then he stepped back, laying the towel on the bed. "Your clothes are wet... I don't want you to get sick," he stated simply, no undertone of sex or want, concern maybe, adoration, questioning my boundaries.

I nodded, apprehensive but trusting for some odd reason as he grasped the hem of my shirt, and removed the thin, soaked cloth from my body. With a second's hesitation staring into my eyes, he pressed a small kiss to my lips and moved his hands to the button of my pants, undoing them quickly along with the zipper and pushing them to the floor, pulling my soaked boxers with them.

I stood naked in front of him as I stepped out of them, slightly self conscious as his eyes flicked over me before he grabbed the towel from the bed and wrapped it around my slim waist, picking up a second one and brushing the dampness from my skin. As he dried a small part of my chest, I heaved a heavy and comfortable sigh.

I felt the soft drop of a droplet of water onto my skin and then I felt his lips on my skin, sucking up the tiny bit of liquid, licking slightly, tingles through my body.

His lips were removed and the rest of my body was dried in silence before he wrapped a towel around his waist, pushing his pants and boxers to the ground underneath.

He went to the dresser and retrieved two pairs of boxers, handing one obviously too large pair to me. I smiled lightly, for a reason I couldn't explain and pulled them on anyway, pulling the towel from my waist.

"Dry," he said simply, stepping to press a kiss to my lips, then kneeling down to pick up the towel and the wet clothes; his fingers skimmed lightly over my side as he raised up and then disappeared again, leaving me to look around the room, my eyes resting on the rather large and comfortable looking bed situated in front of me and clothed in black satin. I reached out to touch the soft cloth and jumped at as I heard his voice behind me.

"Go ahead... lay on it. It's the most comfortable thing you've ever felt," I felt his light touch on the side of my hips.

No, this is.

"You can sleep in here if you want... I can go to one of the guest bedrooms."

But I shook my head, placing my hands over his and lacing our fingers together and pulling his arms more tightly around my waist, a bold move as I enjoyed the enveloping warmth of his presence and flesh on my back.

If I was going to fall, he was coming with me.

"No... I want you to sleep in here... with me."

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:49:00 GMT

I woke to the feeling of someone pressing something cold against my left eye; first my consciousness stirred, and then I opened my right eye, peering around me. The pressure was lifted from my left eye and I sat up, looking into Bam's blue eyes.

"What – " I began to question; then the last things I remembered filtered back into my mind, and I looked around frantically. But we weren't in the diner anymore, we were in Bam's living room, which I could vaguely recognize in the fading daylight filtering through the curtains from outside; the light patter of rain on the roof reached my ears.

"Shh," Bam reached out to stroke my hair, but I twitched and twisted away from him, causing him to withdraw his hand. "He's gone, Ville, don't worry about it."

I blinked and stared at him. "What do you mean, gone? He'll never be gone. I'm his fucking property, Bam! He's not gone! He'll find me. Oh my god, he'll fucking kill me," my breathing became rapid and uncontrollable, my hands squeezed uselessly at my chest as I attempted to breathe, my eyes welling up with tears; I slid to the floor and curled down over my knees into the floor. "How the fuck can this happen? Oh my god. Oh my god."

I heard him slide down beside me, and I felt a hand grasp each of my shoulders; he attempted to lift me from the floor with comforting words I dismissed as I shook off his hands.

"Ville, Ville... you're going to be okay. Listen to me. You're going to be fine. I won't let him hurt you."

At this proclamation I raised myself from the floor and looked directly into his battered and bruised face; a dark ring was focusing around his right eye, the same side of his lip was busted open and swollen. He reached up and touched it self consciously. "I tried to keep him from hitting you when he knocked you out... I tried to fight... but I didn't want him to hurt you. Then the cops came... He ran…" he mumbled looking defeated. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do."

My lip trembled and I just stared at him, a hand slowly moving out to move over his bottom lip, the pad of my thumb causing him to wince as it moved over the broken skin. I then withdrew my hand quickly, setting my face in a stony mold I had learned when dealing with people who asked questions.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. This is meant to be business, Bam, I'm sorry if you thought it became something more."

His jaw locked. "If I thought? What do you think I am, Ville, stupid? Do you think that I don't know what you feel too? Do you think that I honestly believe that you don't feel anything for me, and that you're just using me for money? I don't, Ville, not for a fucking second!"

My lip trembled more violently as his outburst, and I slid away from him on the carpet, my hands grasping my legs and hugging them tightly to my chest, rocking slightly like a child, attempting to hold back the tears and confusion.

"No."

Stop it.

Don't fucking do this to me.

Don't fucking do this.

Stop.

I had thought I didn't care, I had wanted to escape, but now that there was no turning back, that things had worsened I missed my old life, my shitty apartment, my former lack of this beautiful, protective, devastating angel named Bam.

Our eyes were linked, and we didn't speak, until he opened his mouth, and my heart stopped. "Ville, I don't even know why I like you, okay? You just have something. I don't want to hurt you, or have you hurt me. I took a fucking beating for you today. You deserve more than what you have – and I'm willing to give it to you. Do you not understand? I'm willing to give it to you," his eyes pleaded with me, and he attempted to move closer to me, but my violent shudder stopped his movement. "Ville."

"Stop it, Bam! Fucking stop! I don't need your charity! I don't need you to take care of me... I don't deserve you, and you don't need me! I don't need your charity!" I repeated the last line, and finally the tears came down my cheeks, and I buried my head into my knees.

"It's not charity. Fuck, why don't you understand? It's like you've never had feelings for someone before," his response only earned a heavy sob for me.

What was I supposed to say? That becoming a hooker at fifteen didn't allow me much time for dating? That my lifestyle had desensitized me so that I could live?

He didn't want to hear those things. He didn't need to hear those things.

I didn't even realize that he had moved until his arms were around me again; I tried to fight, but I was weak from the stress, tears, and fighting of the day. He held me tightly but safely to his chest, his voice trembling. "Why are you fighting this, Ville? Why are you so scared?"

Resentment caused me attempt to fight my way from him, but he held me tightly. "Don't," he half-pleaded half-commanded at me and I stopped, responding finally.

"I'm not scared," I lied. "I... I have a business. Relationships... relationship ruin that business, okay?" my voice was cracking, and I halted my explanation, giving way only to slight trembles.

"But you don't need that business anymore! I'll take care of you!"

Finally my head lifted and I looked at him square in the eye again, our faces lingering only inches apart. I could feel his breath on my cheek as I defiantly asked him, "And what if I like my business?"

Without hesitation, he shook his head. "You don't."

"You don't know that," I replied with a force I didn't know was coming, my teeth gritting.

"Ville, you're a whore! You even say so yourself! You take money from people for sex, live alone, and are controlled – you expect me to believe that you like that?" there was a bite to his voice I hadn't heard before, and his eyes shone fiercely in an almost scary manner.

I finally wound myself from him, pulling away in his lax grip and standing up from the ground, looking down at his battered face. "It's my fucking life, Bam, it's not just a job. I may not like it, but it's how it is – its how I fucking live."

And then I turned and ran from his house, fear constricting my chest, confusion muddling my mind; I flung myself out the front door, into the pouring rain and toward the front gate of his house. I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn't turn, I just ran faster on the slippery pavement toward the street where cars passed; maybe I can get away – a car –

But then arms were around me and I screamed, his hand wrapping over my mouth and spinning me to his chest. "Ville, please, don't do this," he whispered against my neck in such a pitiful manner as he clutched me to him. "Please don't run away from me."

There in the rain, we stood, and I didn't fight him, just stood there, allowing him to hold onto me as my mind ran a million miles a minute, and at a snail's pace at the same time.

Leave him, Ville.

But I couldn't, I knew I couldn't, my heart and my entire body wouldn't let me run anymore. I was tired, and I was lying; I did feel something, I felt a lot of things, but I felt things for him.

I hated it, but I felt it.

His head lifted from my neck, and his blue eyes still glistened, but with a different emotion than when I had fled. He didn't speak, he didn't move, he just held onto me as the rain soaked through our clothes, wetting our hair to our foreheads in the moments that we stood there; and then he was moving.

And before I could stop him, he pressed his battered lips to mine.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:47:35 GMT

Waking up the next morning was more comfortable than I had woken up in a long while. I couldn't even explain it, I just uncurled from my ball, pulling at the sleeves of the hoodie I had slept in and crawling out of bed.

The bathroom called, and after wiping my makeup from my face, I pushed my hair back moving to apply more eyeliner, when my stomach growled hungrily. I put the eyeliner down I resigned myself to going out.

I needed food.

Collecting the twenty from the jar and replacing it with the hundred, I slid out the apartment, not bothering to lock the shithole. The wind blew fierce and cold into my face, but I raised the hood onto my head, and continued walking toward a small diner I hadn't visited in awhile, craving just about anything remotely like food.

As I settled into a booth, a robust black woman handed me a menu you with a sweet smile, asking what I'd like to drink. "Coffee... black," I replied simply, diverting my eyes to the menu and pushing my tangled hair off of my face with a tired hand.

My eyes grazed over the menu, trying to decide on something, when a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I'd just order the whole menu, you look like you need it," I jerked up at these words and met the blue eyes that had filled my dreams the night before.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered, rubbing my eyes and staring at him, waiting for him to disappear and for me to wake up. But he didn't fade, he just smiled.

"What not happy to see me?" he slid into the booth, his back against the wall and hanging his legs out into the aisle. The waitress shuffled back over with my coffee, questioning Bam if he would like something to drink; he ordered a coffee as well and the woman disappeared again, Bam's devilish grin staying the whole time.

"Are you stalking me or something?" I questioned in disbelief.

"Would you dislike that?" he questioned, and then a second later. "Cause that could be a fun game. And besides, you're definitely the one stalking me. You always end up where I am, man. I'm going to have to call the cops."

I laughed slightly at his lame joke and sipped at my coffee. "What about last night?" I finally questioned with a mischievous grin that would have rivaled his if I'd have more practice. I was relaxing, whether I wanted to or not.

"That... you walked up to my car, where I just happened to be sitting by the side of the road," he shrugged and winked at me. "I was listening to the radio and there you were."

"You drove up to me, you liar!" I let out a true laugh for the first time in a long time.

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Did not"

"You're cute when you argue... and laugh."

I stopped and just stared at him. "What?"

"And you're more beautiful without makeup," he gave a sweet smile and picked up my menu nonchalantly, staring at it as I just remained quiet.

Everything is good when we're just joking... but things like that…

"We'll both have the half pound burgers, with everything, fries, and a side salad." I looked up to see him handing the menu back to the waitress, who then moved away again as he picked up his coffee and stared at me.

"I could have ordered myself," I pouted at him and he laughed.

"Oh, I didn't know you were on the menu, or I would have ordered you," he winked at me, and then dropped it when he realized I wasn't laughing at his joke. "If you really want something else then you can change your order – " he raised his hand to signal the waitress, but I reached across the table and swatted his hand.

"It's not the food."

He looked back at me, putting his hand back to its starting place of his lap and looking at me thoughtfully. "Do you want me to go away?" he suddenly asked somberly, and I bit my lip.

No...

Yes...

Please don't go...

Please leave, make this easier on me...

My mind was torn between the possibilities and the ways that they went. The way that my mind felt, and the way my heart felt.

He just stayed silent, staring at me. "Well?" he finally questioned after my silence and I simply slung my eyes out the window to a random passerby.

"Okay, I understand," he said simply, and I heard a rustling that signaled his movement; footsteps on the tiles of the diner, and a delayed reaction before I jumped from the table and twisted my arms around his waist, pulling him back.

"No," I whimpered into his shoulder with more emotion than I thought I would ever muster again. "Please... don't leave me."

And then he was turned and I was in his arms, held close for the second time in our short time together; I didn't cry, but I clung to him as if for dear life, breathing in his smell, listening to his heart beat.

"I won't."

He directed me so that we were both sitting in the booth again, and I continued to be cuddled against him until our food arrived. He pried me from his body so that I could eat, but I still remained close. I couldn't explain the way I was feeling as I ate slowly, I couldn't understand what he was feeling as I felt his eyes lingering on me.

This isn't right. But I don't care. At all.

"Ville, I'll be right back okay?" he questioned, touching my side gently and I nodded, even though I didn't want him to go; he headed towards the bathroom and I continued eating my fries, sipping my coffee as well.

And then, for the second time that day, I heard a voice rip through my thoughts, only this time, it was the last person I would ever want to hear at this moment.

"Keep eating, and nobody will ever pick you up again, you worthless whore," I heard him sneer and immediately my whole body locked. "Are you eating for two?" I knew he was eyeing the plate sitting beside mine, and I closed my eyes.

This isn't happening.

"Do you hear me, love?" he asked, and I felt his fingertips lingering on the back of my neck, quietly menacing. "Are you listening to me you – "

"Are you going to order sir, or are you just going to use our booth, because if you are I'm going to have to ask you to – " he was interrupted and I twitched at the feeling, fearing for the waitress.

"Shut the fuck up, you worthless cunt!" he snapped, and I was relieved there was no smacking sound; the lady didn't back down that easily though.

"Get out of here! Now! Before I call the cops! I will not take this kind of abuse in here! Get out!"

He moved from the booth, but I felt his hands tangle in my hair. I cried out as he jerked me from the booth, knocking over my coffee in the process. "Fine... But not without my whore," he sneered, and began to drag me towards the door, and yet another voice echoed through the building.

"Let him go you dick!" Bam's voice radiated through diner and what few voices still sounded fell quiet as Bam's shoes sounded on the floor, stepping towards and running into with an amazing force for such a small body. My hair was released and Maxwell stumbled backwards, caught off guard, Bam falling on top of him and connecting a punch to his jaw; Maxwell was never one to be beat, and threw an equally fierce punch at Bam, causing him to fall and crawl backwards from him, standing up as Maxwell did the same. I scrambled to my feet, tears streaming down my face.

"No, stop it, fucking stop it! Maxwell stop it! BAM!" I hurled myself towards Bam, who wrapped an arm around me only a split second before I felt a fist connect to the side of my head, and everything went black.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:44:28 GMT

My brain was whirring as we drove. I continued glancing between Bam and the world outside the window that paled in comparison to the things that I was feeling between us. His eyes landed on me every few seconds, before he finally spoke.

"So, how was your night?" he asked lightly, a simple question compared to his glances.

My mind reeled and I stayed silent. "What? You don't want to talk to me?" he questioned gently, almost sounding hurt.

"No, it's definitely not that," I finally replied. "My night was bad."

"Why is that?" he stopped at a stop sign on a quiet street and turned to me, concern in his eyes.

I can't take this.

"Why do you care?" The question slipped out of my mouth before I even knew I was thinking it, but I continued. "You don't know me..."

"Well... maybe I'd like to."

The answer was so simple that it hurt.

"I'm a whore," I mumbled. "You can't get to know a whore..."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Why do you always bring up the fact that you're a whore? You act like it's not just a job."

I narrowed my eyes. "I knew you didn't understand," I said quietly, and he breathed out, staying silent and turning back toward the road. We pulled away from the stop sign, and he didn't speak until we pulled into his drive way.

"Are you mad at me?" he questioned, shifting the car into park.

"Does it matter?"

He bit his lip and then just climbed out of the car, heading towards the house, where I followed him soon after, feeling slightly bad for my snap at him. As I entered, he was leaning against the wall in the front corridor; I looked at him shiftily before shutting the door behind me.

"I don't know why I'm doing this," he suddenly spoke, and I jerked my head up to meet his eyes, which were glistening at me in a contemplative state. "Maybe I'm just lonely. I'm living on my own for the first time in my entire life. Maybe I'm messed up... or maybe it's you." He stopped speaking and just stared at me.

"What about me?"

A small smile pulled at the left side of his mouth and he broke our eye contact. "I don't even know. You seem... special."

The words stung like a slap across the cheek. It felt like an insult. "Special? What is this, some kind of joke?"

"Huh?" our eyes connected again, and I felt automatically bad for my harsh words.

"Nothing. I – I'm sorry. I'm just stressed... and I'm not special. I'm..."

"Why can't you be special?" he questioned and he was off of the wall and stepping towards me. By habit, I stepped back, and he ceased his movement. "Are you scared of me?"

A moment's lapse. "Yes," I said finally, sighing and casting my eyes to the ground.

"Why?"

"Because you're nice," I lifted my eyes to meet with his for what could have been the hundredth time that night and watched the grimace that crossed his face transfuse into his eyes.

"I don't understand."

It was unexpected, an admission that I wouldn't have figured he would put so simply.

"You shouldn't ever have to." The answer was simple, and he just nodded.

"So, uh, wanna watch a movie or something... I can give you more money if you need it... Just... you know... for your time."

I smiled lightly, almost forced but half real. "Where do you get all this money from, anyway?"

He reached back and scratched his head, as if he were slightly uncomfortable. "You don't know who I am at all, do you?"

"Should I?"

He laughed and I just blinked at him. "I'm not trying to be conceited... but I'm kind of famous."

I didn't respond until he motioned me toward the living room, and I followed him. He reached under his glass top coffee table, the kind I had always wanted but had never actually owned growing up poor and living poor, and pulled out a magazine. He sat down and patted the space next to him as he flipped open the pages.

"Here," he pushed the magazine towards me, showing me a spread of what was unmistakably him.

"You're a professional skater?" I questioned in shock and he just nodded.

"Not so much anymore... but I used to. I even had my own TV show... but I'm guessing you don't watch much TV..."

I shook my head and just stared at the magazine in amazement, further my confusion.

Why me? A fucking celebrity... and he's taking his time to pick me up?

I guess to save himself from appearing conceited he pulled the magazine back towards him, flipping it shut and laying it on top of the pile of magazines that I'm sure his face was spread among. My eyes just stared incredulously at him.

"It's not that big of a deal, man," he said, smiling and reaching out to touch my shoulder but I pulled back.

"Is this some kind of game?" I whispered, eyes filling with tears that always seemed to be popping since he had come around. I looked at him. He only blinked.

"A game?" once again I had confused him, only this time I didn't feel bad for him.

How could I be so stupid?

"I need to go home... this needs to stop. I can't do this," I started muttering under my breath, moving slightly around on the couch but not rising; my eyes focused on him, wide and panicked, not knowing what to do, and he just stared back.

"Why do you always want to leave?" he flopped back on the couch, defeated. "Are you really that uncomfortable around me?"

"I – " I didn't know how to respond. I couldn't say yes because I wasn't sure, but I couldn't give him a no. "I don't know what it is."

"Then, calm down, until you figure it out... I'm going to put on a movie, okay?"

I was too lost in my own thoughts to even look at what he was putting into the DVD player, staring at the indent in the couch where he had just been sitting.

Why couldn't he have just picked me up and fucked me like everybody else? Why does he have to be famous? Why did I even get excited that he came back? He's fucking famous... he's famous, I'm nothing, why is he doing this?

A tear slipped down my cheek for the second time today and I wiped it away hurriedly, cursing myself from becoming such a wuss.

Men don't cry...

But I'm barely a man.

I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look up until he had settled beside me; I didn't say anything, until I gasped as he pulled me into his arms. I couldn't fight back, weakened and unable to resist this amazing feeling.

I haven't been hugged in so long.

He didn't let go of me quickly either, He held on, pulling me closer to him until I was settled against him, and he rocked me slightly, this suddenly sign of affection and comfort from someone I hardly even knew pushing me over the edge and into more prolific tears.

Why do you have to restore my faith, Bam? Why can't you just let me go, and let me go back to hating the whole world? Why do you have to be so goddamned wonderful?

But I couldn't fight against him as much as my brain wanted to, because for the first time I felt comfortable, and even in all its wrongness my body would not respond to the urgent messages of panic my mind was sending out. I was limp in the arms of a famous skater who I didn't know, and could just be playing a game.

My mind screamed danger, but the rest of me didn't care.

If I'm going to be broken, why not do it with a few smiles, no matter how temporary?

Finally he released me, a small shy smile on his face, looking at me unsure, probably waiting for me to freak out again. Instead I just drew in a shaky breath. "Thanks," I breathed, wiping idly at my tear streaked face with my thumb, which was quickly swatted away as he pulled his hoodie down over his hand, wiping the trail of makeup off of my cheeks.

"There... beautiful."

I blushed slightly, heat warming my cheeks, turning my eyes to the movie instead of dealing with the feelings boiling inside of me, thanking him silently for also turning away, so that he didn't have to see how my eyes were unfocused and not at all paying attention to the random movie playing in front of me.

Why can't life be simple?

I was sunk deep in my thoughts through the entire movie, until he stood up to turn it off, looking at me. "I guess I need to take you home?" he looked possibly unwilling to do so, but would if I asked.

My mind flashed to my job... making more money, and my eyes drifted over his body without meaning to. "I guess... unless you want me to do something... "

He shook his head. "No... none of that. Come on..." We headed back out the door, into the car and back to my street, idle conversation of absolutely no meaning being thrown between us until he pulled up to my street. "Do you want me to just drop you off at your house... or do you have to... ya know..."

A sad smile came to my face. "I..." I glanced at his dashboard clock before sighing. "I guess I should work more..."

"Why do you do it?" he cut in suddenly as I glanced back toward the street with a moment of silence.

"Because I have to," I gave the typical response. "I don't have another choice... there is no other choice for someone like me."

His mouth twisted in what I almost feared would be an argument, but instead he just reached into his pocket, pulling out another hundred and forcing it into my hand. I pushed it back to him.

"I didn't earn it..." I muttered. "I still haven't earned any of the money you've given me..."

"You don't need to... Plus you need it more than I do..." he attempted to hand it back, but when I pushed it back again, he finally relented and stuffed the bill back into his hoodie pocket, looking at me for a few seconds until I felt uncomfortable and shifted away. I grasped the door handle, turning to him to say good night when I noticed him pulling his hoodie off, my eyes automatically jumping to the exposed torso before his shirt was pulled back down.

"Here, at least take this... its fucking freezing out there. Don't argue. Take it. I have a shitload."

I let out a small smile, pulling the hoodie to me, knowing he would force it on me if he had to, and feeling actually grateful as a rough wind shook the car. "Thanks... but I need to be going now..."

His eyes betrayed the smile he offered me, with an emotion I wasn't quite sure of. "Okay... I'll see you later."

I nodded back to him, climbing out of the car and watching as he pulled away. He was around the corner before I eagerly pulled on the hoodie, his smell and warmth washing over me.

I shouldn't be doing this... but... who cares?

I'm at my ends anyway, might as well enjoy the fall.

So I turned towards home, head filled with thoughts of the blue eyed boy, shoving my hands into the pockets, stopping automatically as my hand brushed against a piece of paper inside the pocket. Pulling it out, I cursed under my breath.

He tricked me.

But there was no use fighting, I could see that Bam got to do what Bam wanted to do, so I pushed the bill back into my pocket, resuming my walk back to my shitty home, where I would surely dream uncultivable dreams of the kind stranger who probably didn't understand the way he was making me think.

He's just being nice... right?

It's just business.

Hope is only for those too weak to grasp reality...

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:43:18 GMT

Waking up the next morning, needless to say I did not spring out of bed in hopes of quickly seizing the day.

I didn’t want to seize the day; I wanted it to just drift away. So, as long as I thought well I continued staring up at my cracked ceiling, counting the thin lines; trying to visualize the pictures that could be made from them.

Anything to distract me from what I had to do yet again today.

But then there was a loud, brutal knocking at my door, and I sat up automatically, my eyes scanning around the room, opening even wider as they landed on the clock.

Shit it’s two in the fucking afternoon… that’s Maxwell.

I slid out of bed quickly, knowing that if I kept him waiting there might be hell to pay. Grabbing the money from the table I opened the unlocked door, and came face to face with the hulk of a man standing before me.

He faked a sweet smile, pushing into my apartment, and shutting the door.

“So, how’s business been doing, love?” he asked, glancing down at the fifty in my hand, then frowning. “I hope that’s not all you have for me,” he gave me a shiny toothed smile. “There might be a bit of a problem if that’s all you have for me, love. And we don’t like problems.”

He spoke as always, his rhythm never changing, tossing in ‘love’s like normal people tossed around ‘uh’s and his eyes scanning the filth in which I lived.

“But, it’s all I have,” I muttered, looking down, frustrated at the once crisp bill in my hand. “It’s been hard, Maxwell.”

I knew this wouldn’t do it.

“Oh? Are you really that much of a worthless whore that even scumbags won’t pick you up?”

My mind automatically darted to Bam, his sweetness, his kindness, and bit my lip, my teeth being jarred into the soft flesh as Maxwell slapped me across the face and sent me reeling slightly into my battered kitchen table. The bill fell from my hand and he looked down at it as if it wasn’t good enough to wipe his ass with.

“Look what you did, you dumb fuck. Pick up that money and give it to me, now,” he spat at me. “NOW!” he echoed as I bent down to pick it up, and he dealt another blow to the back of my head. I bit my lip again, blinking back tears as I straightened up to see him. He always dealt the heaviest blows to areas no one could see.

After all, why would you damage your business?

Taking the bill from my hands, looking into my teary eyes, he grasped my chin and grinned. “Now, be a love and get me the rest of it.”

I blinked. I needed that money, so I lied even though I knew it would cause trouble. “I don’t have anymore, I swear, that’s all I could make – men don’t want the whole thing when they can just get a blow job for – “

I was cut off as he slapped me once again and I cried out, my body collapsing to the ground, a tear finally streaking down my stinging cheek. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you worthless cunt. You’re just like your fucking mother, she always tried to lie to me. She always wanted to keep it for herself, the ungrateful bitch. Fine, keep it, but keep in mind, you fucking owe me.”

As soon as the door slammed I allowed the choked sob to escape my lips. I never let him see or hear me cry the few times I did, even though I think he knew he always made me. He was like a master who abuses his pet… No matter how much abuse they take, if you lock them in the house, they can’t escape.

I can’t escape.

So many would say, just walk away from it, but they don’t understand. It’s not that easy. I’m trapped, I owe him. As shitty as it was, this apartment was set up to be rented to me by him. As abusive as he was, he protected me from others.

You don’t let others destroy your property; even if it’s something you destroy yourself.

Unable to control my sobs, I crawled back towards my bed, collapsing half way there in half-frustration and half-surrender to the deep waves of tears that still consumed my body and rendered me immobile.

That’s where I fell asleep, laying on the dirty floor until I finally calmed myself, falling into a soft but fitful sleep.

I awoke with a start, looking around in blind panic. It was dark outside.

Eight? How the fuck can I sleep so fucking much?

I scrambled from the floor, rushing to find something decent and hopefully attractive to throw on. It wasn’t time for the best wave of costumers, but any costumer was necessary now. After throwing on the clothes, I grimaced as I faced myself in the mirror. My eyeliner from the previous night was streaked and smeared around my face, my hair in disgusting tangles.

It’s not like they really care what I look like.

But I combed the tangles from my hair, washing and fixing my makeup before practically running through the door towards my street.

It was cold again, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself, and staring at the ground. And then, looking up, my heart leaped, and I stopped in my tracks.

That car? Is that him?

I squinted, trying to will myself not to hope, when the car began to move towards me, it was almost like I couldn’t breathe. He pulled up to the curve and I could see my slack-jawed reflection in his window for a short while before it was rolled down.

“Hey, beautiful, need a ride?”

I couldn’t breathe, I just stared up at his cocky grin, and then at the bill laying in the seat; a hundred.

If I wasn’t in dire need of money I would have felt cheap, but instead of feeling anything but exhilaration, cold and confusion, I opened the car door, picking up the bill and sliding in beside him. He gave me a sheepish but smug smile as I slid on my seatbelt and then pulled away.

He came back…

He came fucking came back.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:38:21 GMT

The dingy apartment was something I was used to, a kind ‘customer’ was not. So it wasn't the large pile of trash and eviction threat taped to my door that filled my thoughts, but the man who had picked me up's gentle ways and the way that I had completely turned him away.

Why do you keep thinking about him, Ville? He was just a nice guy. Chances are, you'll never see him again.

I walked into the dirty kitchen, pulling a glass from a peeling shelf and filling it with water that should have been filtered but wasn't. The tainted water hit my throat and did not quench my thirst or calm my mind. I threw the glass down into the sink from sheer frustration, watching as the shards of one of my last glasses glistened on the tarnished metal surface.

If only I was a fucking girl, I wouldn't live like this...

I sighed and pulled out the few bills Bam had given me while I was in his company. The fifty would have to go to my boss, the twenty I guessed I could keep for myself, so I tucked it away in a dirty jar, laying the fifty on the table in anticipation of Maxwell's visit the next day.

I wouldn't call him a pimp; he had no want of me but took control anyway; and since he was not the type of guy to be fucked with, I gave him most of what little money I received on that barren stretch of road that decreased my chances of a pick up even more than the dick that hung between my legs. But I had his protection. And gods knew I needed it.

My bed did not call for me, but I took it anyway, pulling a rather old quilt up and around my body, attempting to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress.

Is this the kind of life you planned for your son when we came here, Dad? Is this the kind of life that you would have been proud of me living?

The questions were cynical and bitter, stinging my mind as they would have stung my throat if spoken aloud.

If wasn't my father's fault that he had been denied access to the United States for reasons I didn't understand when I was five, and couldn't remember now. It wasn't my fault that my mother was killed in this profession that I now worked to hardly pay the bills. It wasn't his fault I was deserted at age fifteen to work the streets under a man who ‘adopted' me into his work force because of debts my mother had supposedly owed him.

It wasn't his fault that I wasn't destined to be better.

I sighed and turned over, staring out the window at the brick wall across the street.

Why had I refused that money Bam had offered me? I would surely be unable to pay the amount of dues Maxwell would have expected at the end of the week as it was, and then I declined money when freely offered from a stranger I would never see again.

Why hadn't I just taken it and climbed out of the car, thankful that I had not had to give up even more of my dignity for his quick wishes.

Because he was too good to do that to...

I don't even know him... but I could sense it. His blue eyes were just so alive, the way he moved, spoke, seemed to think.

He was a good guy...

So much better than I could ever hope for.

My vision blurred as my eyes clouded over with tears of self-misery.

I could never hope for anybody because of the way I looked and worked. Men picked me up all the time; they didn't care who I was, or how ugly I was inside and out, they only cared for a warm hole that I offered their hard-ons.

My mirrors were never used to stare at myself; I scarcely wanted to look at my own face as I applied my makeup to give the illusion of feminity that would hopefully make a pick up easier.

I hated everything I saw when I looked at myself. My eyes were dead, my hair was getting too long and dirty, I was too skinny, my mouth never worked in the way that I wanted it too, everything seemed in disproportion. I hated all that I could see, I avoided looking at myself, closing my eyes as customers rolled down their passenger windows so I didn't have to view my own monstrosity in the reflection of the glass.

There were the usual passing comments about beauty but I ignored them. I knew the truth.

I was so sick of thinking these things every day, I was so sick of dragging myself out of bed to the knock of my boss or my landlord on the door, or somebody else demanding money and looking down on me for being the scum I was.

I can't help what I am!

I'm destined to be this person... I'm destined to be this piece of shit you throw away. A piece of trash.

The tears streaked vertical lines across my cold cheeks; my apartment had no heat, and I was in no place to get it any time soon, just like my life wouldn't get any better any time soon either, no matter if there were a thousand men like Bam that picked me up.

This is how I'm destined to be for the rest of my life, or until I'm too ugly for even the dirty old men... I better get used to it.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:37:05 GMT

I continued sitting at his table alone, just lost in my own thoughts before he came to the open doorframe and leaned on it. "Sorry, I'm really not much of a cook, but I – "

"Why are you doing this?" I suddenly asked him, seemingly out of nowhere. "When you pick up a hooker you're not supposed to cook them dinner!" I seemed almost frantic though I can't say exactly why, I could sense he wouldn't hurt me but something still seemed so off. "You're just supposed to pick them up, fuck them and throw them back out on the curb!"

He looked at me, seeming almost hurt, yet mostly confused. "I know what you're supposed to do with a hooker. But honestly? I don't know. I'm paying you for your company at the moment, and I figured it would be a nice thing to do."

"But I'm a hooker," I emphasized to him, motioning down my thinly clad body. His eyes followed my motions and then met my eyes again as he shrugged.

"You're still human and you still need to eat."

I attempted to force down the small tinge of a smile that rose to my lips at his general answer. Just the fact that he recognized me as a human was slightly refreshing... but unnerving at the same time. I wasn't used to this in the least; most men I dealt with were desensitized, and just wanted to get me in and out as quick as possible.

I looked up to see him give me one last indescriptive look before turning back into the kitchen, and I let out a slight sigh.

Why does he have to be so nice? I'm not used to it.

A short while later, he was bringing in two plates piled high with spaghetti; I attempted to contain myself, but as I stated, business had been scarce, so as soon as it was set in front of me, I picked up my fork and began scarfing it down like I hadn't eaten in days; truth is, it had been awhile since I'd eaten and I couldn't really pinpoint my last meal in the blur of blocked out images that was my life.

I looked up through a full bite to see him looking at me with a slight smile on his face.

"See, I told you that you were hungry," he stated simply before resuming shoving spaghetti sloppily into his own mouth.

I chose to ignore his statement and returned to eating, finishing my plate soon; he insisted on seconds but I declined; I wanted to get this over with.

"Are we going to do this, or what?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Do what?" he seemed genuinely clueless, raising his eyebrow at me; I shook my head.

"What I do! What people pick me up for! Or did you waste my night with seventy dollars and a dinner – I appreciate it, but it takes more to live than that!"

His jaw set and he seemed almost angered, causing me to cower slightly; he was definitely a better build than me and I had little doubts that he could beat me and kill me if he so wished it.

"I'm going to pay you for your fucking time, Jesus!" he practically shouted. "I'm sorry I'm actually being a fucking nice guy! Do you just want me to rip your pants off, hand you some more bills, stuff it in and then kick you out the fucking door? Is that what you fucking want? If that was really all you could've wanted, you should've just fucking said something earlier, you know, you fucking whore!" he reached down to start undoing his belt buckle, and my lip started trembling at the sound of the metal clinking; before he had even undone it, I was in full hysterics, sinking down onto the floor.

What the hell is wrong with me? I don't fucking cry.

He was standing over me, unsure of what to do, refastening his belt before he bent down and tried to take me into his arms; I resisted.

"No! Don't touch me! I don't even deserve to be fucking touched! That's all I am, a fucking whore. I'm just a fucking whore, and I'm such an asshole... fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be fucking crying, god damn it I'm so fucking stupid."

He continued fighting with me until I finally collapsed against his chest still crying lightly and he hugged me tightly, one hand moving up to stroke through my tangled hair. "Shhh, you're not stupid. Geez, everybody fucking cries you know... c'mon, let's get you up off this floor, man, don't worry about it, I didn't mean it."

I allowed him to guide me to the living room, to the couch, where he sat down and pulled me to his chest, caressing me with nonsexual comforting touches I couldn't remember the last time I'd received. I continued crying, unable to stop the tears; tears for everything that I'd blocked out to make this life livable.

He didn't say anything except for the occasional quieting "Shhh" as he continued stroking my hair until I finally gained control of myself.

What kind of fucking person am I?

He lifted me from his chest and held me upright at arms length. "You okay?"

I nodded my head even though everything inside me screamed the opposite; and for the first time, I just wanted out of a place, even if I didn't get any money.

"I need to go," I muttered, feeling fully ashamed of the way I was acting in front of this man I'd met just over an hour before; a man who actually attempted to be kind, and had watched me fuck it all up. "I need to go home."

He bit his lip and then nodded, standing up and motioning for me to follow him.

Back in the car we drove back to the street where he'd picked me in silence; as we pulled up and I attempted to force watery smile, and he just nodded, reaching out a hand to push back a few locks of my hair. "Oh," he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket and retrieving another bill; I didn't even look at what it was, I only pushed his hand away.

"No, I don't deserve your money... I'm gonna go. I'm sorry," and then I climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut against his protests.

There was a pause as I stepped onto the curb; I could feel his eyes on me even through the tinted windows before he finally drove away.

I felt tears well up in my eyes again as I watched his car turn at the far end of the street and speed off, and I couldn't help but feel like I'd messed up.

There goes the best guy I'd probably ever meet in this fucking position... and I just let him leave like that...

His taillights were long gone before I finally turned towards home, curling into myself to block out the chilly wind, reprimanding myself for even thinking such things.

Nothing would have happened... he just has half a heart. There was nothing else to it.

Nothing else.

It's just business.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 05:36:23 GMT

Damn, tonight was cold. What had they said the fucking temperature was? Thirty-one?

Shit. I'm going to freeze to death, or not going to get any fucking business…

There go my fucking meals; I'd prefer the first option frankly.

I shivered and crossed my arms over my thin shirt, attempting to warm myself as my eyes scanned up and down the road. My hopes lifted as a car appeared at the far end and I made sure to put my hands on my hips and jut them just so...

But the car continued past, loud rap music blaring and neon lights shining.

Bet its warm in there.

I was too busy watching the other car, considering giving the driver the finger just for sheer frustration, that I scarcely noticed a second car pulling up and stopping beside me.

I looked over, surprised, as the passenger side window rolled down and I was motioned over. I strutted slightly in my platform boots, pouting my lips in a hopefully seductive way, not sure that my skinny cheeks were able to sustain this look for very long. I leaned over and peered into the car to see a young male, maybe twenty five sitting behind the wheel.

"Yo, it's fucking cold out here! You need a ride or something?"

I huffed in frustration. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing? Trying to make some fucking money. God, damn." I started to turn from the car to go back to my area, pissed off that the only man I had gotten to stop was fucking clueless, when he called out to me.

"How much?"

He looked young and inexperienced. I could take him for all he was fucking worth, judging by the nice interior of the car, and he'd probably never know the fucking difference. But for some reason this guy seemed too nice to do that to. I reminded myself that I didn't care, but questioned him simply, "What are you in the mood for?"

He looked thoughtful, and I realized this man was severely handsome; his blue eyes bright and full of life, his dark brown hair slightly wavy and out of control. He looked vaguely familiar, but I was in no situation to stand here place him in my memory of thousands of faces. He could be anybody.

"How about for just your company?"

"Sweetie," I pouted, leaning over onto his window frame. "I don't do just company. If you want company, why don't you call your mother?"

"I didn't say that was all," he contradicted, rolling his eyes. "Just how much to start?"

When I didn't reply right away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash that made my eyes stretch wide. "How about this to start?" he questioned, pulling a fifty from the wad. "Is that enough for a little bit of company?"

I didn't even respond, just reached through the door and picked up the bill half of me wishing to just turn and run away with it, but one glance into his eyes told me he almost expected me to do that... and that made me climb in with him.

He could be anybody, he could fucking kill me for Christ's sake, my mind reminded me as I slid the door closed, looping the seatbelt around me at his reminder but it's not like I don't take that chance every night... and its not like part of me wouldn't be thankful for one of them slitting my throat one day. I chanced a glance over at him as we pulled away from the side of the street -- he looked so gentle...

Then again most murderers do in the beginning, I guess.

"So, what's your name?" he questioned quietly after a few minutes of driving. My mind automatically attempted to fly to whatever name I had handed out last, but then I just gave up; I was too tired and cold to think up a pseudo-name.

"Ville," I sighed, leaning my head against the glass of the window, watching the pavement slide away below us.

Without being asked, he replied, "I'm Bam."

I nodded not to be rude, and then continued to look out the window as we drove silently; I could feel his eyes on me every now and then, but not saying anything. This too I was used to.

"We're here," he finally stated, pulling up into a nice house; not too big, but not too small. Like he had money but hadn't quite found the right house yet; either that or he had made money and blown it all on a good car. I was used to this type of guy... impulse buyers and hedonistic men were my business.

He got out of the car after parking, moving to come and open my door, but I had already opened it and stood up rolling my eyes lightly, even though something inside me almost warmed at his attempt at such a kind gesture.

This man was either still sweet despite things he's done... or really was terribly inexperienced. He shrugged and began to walk towards the house, me trailing a few feet behind him and watching him as he walked.

If he continued paying me tonight, this might actually end up being something I enjoy more than usual; he was a good change from the overweight, balding and married men that usually stopped and offered me money for my services which would take place in the backseat of their station wagon or Corvette or whatever.

He was not the first two I could tell automatically and a quick glance at his fingers as he slid the key into the door told me he wasn't the last one either.

He walked into the house, finally turning to face me as he held the door open for me and motioned inward. "Mi casa," he stated in some of the worst Spanish I've ever heard, and I couldn't help but laugh slightly and shake my head as I looked around, hearing him close the door behind me.

"Nice... most guys just take me to a motel."

"Eh, I've got some class."

"You picked up a hooker off the road. A male one at that."

And then he stopped moving, his mouth opened. "You're a dude? You told me your name was Willa!" he practically screeched at me, and my mouth opened, ready to say something in my defense when he broke into peals of laughter.

"I'm just fucking with you, man."

"It costs an extra two hundred to fuck me. Two fifty if you want me to fuck you... and you have to provide the condom," I admit, I jacked up the prices a bit, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"How about I give you an extra twenty and cook you dinner? You look like you haven't eaten."

I would have protested, but the growl in my stomach threatened me. "I – fine."

What could a little dinner hurt anyway? I'm being paid. It's all the same.

"Good," he smiled smugly, pulling another bill from the wad and laying it on the kitchen table. I hurriedly snatched it up as I watched him walk into the kitchen and start searching through the cabinets, his shirt moving up and revealing a nicely toned stomach.

I watched greedily before my mind became confused. I'm picked up daily to get sex from guys that I don't want; I find a guy who doesn't want sloppy sex in a dingy motel room and I actually kind of want to fuck him?

I'm probably just wanting more money I tried to console myself.

But I couldn't help but smile as I looked into the kitchen to see him frying hamburger, a box of noodles and a jar of sauce set to the side, as he hummed softly to himself.

Maybe he's different.

No, they're all just cash; he's prolonging it. He's a nice guy... for now.

I sighed and looked down at the table, folding up the bill he had laid down and stuffing it in my pocket with the other bill.

This night will just happen to be a little bit better than some of the others... then he'll just drop you off at your piece of shit corner and you'll go back to freezing your ass off, this time with a full stomach. That's all you can really be thankful for; after all, you're just a whore.

Biting my lip to try to settle these thoughts, I looked into the kitchen once again, I watched him smile as he ran a hand through his hair. At least he was cute.

Really cute.

But lets just get this over with. It all ends up the same.