It’s summer break, which means that I’ll be working at the brothel at night, and dying of boredom during the day. But boredom is still better than a whole day in school.

When I was younger, I had a few friends. It was hard to find some that weren’t dumb kids or too childish.

Yes, I was a kid as well but I was pretty mature for my age, and playing with other kids was really boring to me. But as time passed, having boring friends wasn’t an issue anymore, as I didn’t have any friends at all. My family’s business was known throughout town, with my family name attached to it. First people were perplexed, Maybe he is a good kid? They would think. But I have this tendency to not trust anyone and be cold - and I’m going to be honest, I like to be mean. It’s fun to bully. It’s fun to see a kid look at you with fear, giving you their lunches after you just lay a hand in front of them. Bullying also assures your superiority. No one will dare cross you if they fear you. And with the name “Caleb Cain”, I was already considered a threat from birth.

The Cains have been “ruling” our town in the shadows for decades. My grandfather had bought an old hangar and had turned it into a bar. With the years, he discovered that other businesses - illegal ones - were much more lucrative than a simple bar. He then started a new business of drug dealing and money laundering, turning the bar into a casino to make things easier. My father later came up with the brothel idea when he was eighteen. His father was so proud that he gave him the whole business when he turned fifty, and decided that it was time to enjoy the money he had made. Unfortunately, he died of lung cancer at the age of fifty-three. It's around that time that my dad asked Daniel Hayes, Liam’s dad, if he wanted to join the business. They were both twenty-six and ready to make of this town their playground - and they succeeded.

Speaking of Daniel Hayes, he is sitting in front of my dad as him, my father, Liam and I are reviewing the monthly report in the brothel’s office. Liam looks a lot like his father: they have the same face structure - with a stong jaw -, a straight nose and dark brown hair. The only difference is their eye color - blue for Liam and green for Daniel. Right now, Daniel is explaining how the high school Liam is attending is not good enough and how he is going to transfer after summer break.

“This private school has a great Business and Management program,” Daniel explains, “Liam will be retaking his senior year there so he can study exactly that. Sebastian, you should transfer Caleb to this school too, so he can get into that program for his senior year.”

“Hoping he can actually make it into that program,” my dad answers, “Caleb isn’t like your son, he didn’t even pass his sophomore year. Maybe a private school, with more discipline, will do the trick.” He looks at me, “I’ll contact the school tomorrow. You better not f*ck this up. Take example on Liam. Give me something to be proud of for once.” I stay silent and nod. As soon as we finished reviewing the report, I flee to the brothel’s bar and get a beer.

Liam this, Liam that, I hate that f*cking prick. I chug my beer hoping it will wash away that bitter taste in my mouth when I hear footsteps behind me.

“I am sorry about my dad,” he says, “since he discovered that school and that Business and Management program, he can’t stop talking about it. I don’t want to transfer either.”

Like I care. 

“I don’t care about transferring,” I answer, “I just know that private schools are full of cocky brats.” I finished my beer in one chug. “But I guess that won’t be a problem for you. You’ll fit right in.” He grabs a beer from the fridge, gets behind the bar counter and says, “don’t worry, I am sure you’ll find some obnoxious kid to hang out with.”

“I don’t need friends,” I answer, bluntly. “Besides, we are rich. School is a waste of our time. We will both inherit our fathers’ business anyway. You’ll get an even bigger part than I since you’re an only child.”

“I don’t want to just inherit it, I want to contribute to it. I don’t want everything to be handed to be on a silver plate. Besides, if I could create my own legal business, it would be even better.” He opens his beer and takes a sip before continuing, “you don’t need friends, uh? Doesn’t it feel lonely?”

I raise my brows. I’m appalled at this question. I guess he wouldn’t know what having no friends is - everyone loves this prick. He always has a big group of friends who idolize him, and on top of that, he has parents who love him and a housekeeper who is practically like a second mom.

“No? Why do you even care?” I answer.

“I don’t. You could have friends but you prefer being an a*shole instead. That’s pathetic.”

Pathetic? I throw my empty beer bottle in the trash behind him and grab his collar over the counter. “Who the f*ck are you calling pathetic, you piece of sh*t?”

He doesn’t move, his eyes wandering from my eyes to my lips, then back up again. “What a reaction,” he says with a grin, “I don’t think you would react like this if you didn’t think it yourself already.” I push him and let go of his shirt. I don’t even want to answer his stupid comment, I’d rather just get him out of my sight. I grab another beer and leave the brothel. I need to get some air before we open, in two hours. Hopefully, I’ll be able to release some steam tonight with Colby.

We’ve been meeting in room 4 every night for four months now and everything is going great - although I have to admit that something feels off.

He is less affectionate and gentle than before. Sometimes it feels like he just wants to get f*cked and that’s it, as if he would be satisfied with anyone. He still says he loves me though, so I guess the “honeymoon” phase has ended. It couldn’t be all ponies and butterflies forever, and I am fine with that. As long as he is by my side, I don’t need anything - or anyone - else.

It’s now 9pm and Liam is directing the clients to their rooms, while I welcome the others into the bar. I try to not look at him, as just his sight infuriates me. But I still get a glance of him leading Mr. Burk to Room 5 - Pen’s room for tonight. He is a fat, small and bald man who speaks so slow that it’s a real challenge to not fall asleep. Pen hates him, but money is money, and Mr. Burk pays a lot. More than most of the clients. So she doesn’t say anything and gets on her knees for him twice a month.

As I am talking with a client, Esteban comes to find me.

“Caleb,” he says, “we need you downstairs.” He grabs me by the arm and pulls me away from the client.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s time to inaugurate our new set of codes! Hmm,” he scratches his head, “I think this one is a Code Red.”

Code Red, when a worker is physically hurt.

Going downstairs means going into that shameful, disgusting place that I try to avoid at all cost. “Why do you need me to go?”

“Because Liam is busy with the clients, Rafael is out on a drug deal with James and Colby, and I have to deal with the violent client. So I need you to take care of the kid.”

“Take care of the kid?”

“Yeah”, he says, “like stop the bleeding, clean the wound or whatever.” I gulp. How bad is that kid hurt?

I nod and follow him downstairs, sliding between the crowd. As I walk down the narrow and dark stairs down to the basement, the air gets hotter and heavy, and the sound of the music gets muffled by the thick walls.

I’ve always avoided the basement, and here I am, going down this hell hole.