Jeff had always been weak-willed. Occasionally. We fucked. Twice. He felt so bad afterwards that he avoided me like the plague for months after until I confronted him about it. Jeff didn’t want to do anything more at first, but I convinced him that Peter wouldn’t find out. The man didn’t pay enough attention to anyone else to notice anything important. By the time I was eighteen, Jeff had started calling me his boyfriend. I didn’t know where he got the idea, but as long as he didn’t try to control me, I didn’t care.

I stood from the bed and went over to him. Before my hand could touch his chest, he slapped it away. “Get out,” he repeated.

“Emotion-fueled decisions were always your thing, weren’t they?” I shook my head and left the house. I needed to head home anyway. If I got back too late, Peter would just use it as an excuse to kick me out again.

When I got back to the house, his friends were still there but getting ready to leave. Every time I saw them, especially that creep Phillip, my skin crawled and I felt nauseous. I managed to sneak past them without garnering too much attention and went to get some food. I wasn’t hungry, but I did want something to snack on. I ended up disappointed as if I didn’t already know there was nothing but beer, leftover junk, and expired food in the nearly empty refrigerator.

“Where did you go?” I jumped and closed the fridge door. Peter was standing behind me with a near-empty bottle of beer in his hand. He drained the last of it and tossed it into the bin in the corner that was already overflowing with garbage. By some miracle, it didn’t roll off and fall to the floor.

“To a friend’s house.”

“You don’t have friends.”

“You know me now?” I asked, biting my lip afterwards. I needed to stay out of his way and having a smart mouth wouldn’t help me.

“You were fucking around, weren’t you?” he asked, nose scrunched.

He didn’t let me get that far, I wanted to say. “No,” is what I really said. “I’m home just before dark and I didn’t bother you or your friends. What is it?”

“Out.”

“Wha- I just got back!” This was why I hated being around him while he was drunk.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna see your face right now.”

“Then I’ll stay in my room, and you won’t have to see or hear from me,” I argued. I knew my week had started crappily, but I at least wanted to end on a high note. I had no school the next day, but a warm bed and a roof over my head still sounded better than a cold bench at the transit station. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

“It’s about time you moved out anyways. Get out. I’m not gonna argue with you, Z. I wanna pretend you don’t exist right now so I can go to sleep.”

“Then I’ll be quiet.”

“You know that Phillip’s son just had a baby boy? Phillip is younger than me, and he became a grandfather before me.”

I scoffed, digging my nails into my palms at the mention of Phillip, the disgusting scumbag. “I guess I should toast to some guy I don’t know becoming a father. Are you trying to rub it in my face that I’ll never have whatever Phillip’s son has? I know you hate me, so can we please just end it at that?”

“It’s my fault you are still alive and kicking under my roof. You think I’m gonna blame you for that?” Peter asked, raising his voice. “My problem is that I sacrificed your mother for you and got nothing in return. My bloodline ends with such a fucking letdown.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re still young. Have another child and pray it’s a boy. If you’re lucky, it’ll turn out the exact opposite of me. I’m headed to my room. Don’t worry. I won’t make a sound, so you can pretend I don’t exist all you want if it makes you happy.”

“I said you should leave.”

“Da-”

Peter approached me and grabbed my arm, cutting me off. He pulled me from the kitchen and dragged me to the door. My father was not a weakling. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked like a bouncer or a bodyguard. I, on the other hand, got my mother’s body. Tall, thin, slightly curvy, and easy to shove out the front door.

I knocked on the door when he closed it, but he only yelled for me to go away. The sun had set, and the night chill was settling in.

“Aye, Zed.”

I slowly turned around to see Phillip lighting a cigarette in my front yard. “Shouldn’t you have scurried off with the rest of your mongrel friends by now?” I needed to get away from this man. My entire body was telling me to run away as fast and as hard as I could.

“Don’t be so mean, baby boy. I was just about to leave when I saw the show.” Phillip blew out a pink cloud of smoke. “Looks like he kicked you out again. Wanna stay the night at my place?”

“I’d rather jump off a cliff.” One step at a time. That was all I needed to focus on. I needed to get away from this dangerous man.

Phillip smiled and took a few steps towards me only to burst out laughing when I scrambled backwards like an idiot. “You’re cute. What are you afraid of? Stop with that skittish behaviour. It doesn’t suit you.”

I picked up my pace and started towards the road. I fucking hated Phillip, even more than I couldn’t stand Jeff. Phillip let me leave, laughing as I walked away from him. Thankfully, my phone was in my pocket. I started walking towards Jeff’s place, sending out a quick text.

Kicked out. Let me stay the night. I’ll pay – Zed

Fuck off – Jeff

Motherfucker. Jeff was making it hard to hang on to him lately. I only really kept him around for the sex and the fact that he cared enough about me to be my safety cushion. But I could always find someone else to fuck and someone stupid enough to become my new safety cushion. I’d fucked tons of guys who’d offered to be my sugar daddy.

It was times like this when I wondered if moving out would be worth losing money for. It was hard to get a decent apartment without any proof that I could pay for it unless it was in a sketchy neighbourhood. I had money, but it wasn’t from a legal job that I could show paystubs from. Places that didn’t bother asking how I was going to pay were usually in neighbourhoods with substance or safety red flags.

I stopped walking and sighed, turning around and walking in a different but familiar direction. Where was I going to go? The park? No, it was patrolled at night. I’d get caught. The transit centre? Those hard, cold benches weren’t very welcoming. Abandoned building? If I didn’t get jumped and possibly raped by some high-as-fuck crazy person I’d be lucky. I wasn’t going to sleep outside again. I couldn’t mentally handle another night this week without a roof or warmth.

I needed to revise what walking the straight and narrow meant to me because there were some things I just couldn’t do. Drugs helped me cope, I couldn’t control how often I got kicked out, and fucking around with random strangers was the only way to get a roof over my head sometimes. The new ‘straight and narrow’ needed to be scrapped and replaced by me just doing any and everything possible to get where I wanted to be quickly and with no distractions.

The only thing that got me through particularly tough times like this was the thought that eventually, I’d get to leave everyone and everything behind. I’d finish college, I’d sort out just where I wanted to go, dump all my savings into getting there, and start a new life far away from this shitty place filled with shitty people.

As if I subconsciously knew where I needed to be, I had arrived before I realized. It was the famous corner I could see from my bench at the transit centre. I shuffled next to a woman who was reapplying her lipstick. I hadn’t done this in a while but what choice did I have. This was the easiest way to sleep in a bed tonight. The riskiest, but the easiest.

My condition didn’t give me as many options as other guys had. Most men wouldn’t be able to get hard upon seeing me naked and realizing what was off with me. Men who could get it up were the curious type who would ask me all sorts of questions as to why I was the way I was, nearly killing the mood in the process. Or they were the kinky kind, but they were rare gems. As long as I kept the lights off and controlled just how far their hands wandered, I usually got away with it, my partner being none the wiser.

So many cars passed by and so many women got picked up. I was impatient and so tempted to give up, but then my eyes landed on a parked car not far from me. I’d noticed it before. It had parked across the street between two giant trees just a little after I had shown up. But now I was getting the feeling that whoever was inside was watching me and the others.

Yes, prostitution was illegal. But what kind of officer sat aside and watched instead of trying to do something? If they weren’t officers, they were possibly potential clients who were too scared to approach one of us. Curious, I got off my ass and jogged across the street to the car.

Upon closer inspection, it was a really nice car. Whoever drove it could have easily gotten a higher-priced hooker instead of someone off the street who was probably carrying something disgusting.

I knocked on the front window and waited, surprised when the back window rolled down. Of course, someone in a car such as this would not be driving themselves. How rude of me to assume. Getting a glance at the interior, my eyebrows rose. It was one of those vehicles that had two back seats that faced each other.

The man nearest the door had a strange aura around him. He had dark skin, dreads past his shoulders, and the brightest green eyes I had ever seen on a real person. Even in the darkness, they looked like luminous emeralds. The man next to him had a similar kind of chilling aura, but I couldn’t see his face well because of the mask he wore that covered his nose and mouth. All I could see were his bright blue eyes that seemed to glow and his inky black hair that I could barely make out in the dimly lit vehicle.

“H-Hi,” I greeted, suddenly feeling like I should have minded my own business and kept my ass on the sidewalk.

“How much?” the man with the mask asked. He had such a thick accent that my brain stuttered trying to process the question at first.

Foreigners? “Three-fifty per person if it’s vanilla, no mouth work,” I answered. My voice came out so small and unsure but tonight would be my lucky night if they both wanted to fuck me. I’d honestly take them both though I hadn’t done a threesome in a long time. “But I need the night.”

The men exchanged looks and the one with the dreads said something lowly in a different language that I didn’t catch. I only spoke one language, but I could identify other more common ones. However, I had no idea what they were saying. When I heard a click of the door, I stepped back just in time for the doors to rise. Fuck, the car had falcon-wing doors. I should have charged them more.

The man with the dreads motioned for me to get in, which I did hesitantly, sliding into the seat facing them. I was used to the drunken men who’d stop by in their average vehicles to blow their paychecks on one night of burying their dicks between anyone’s legs. This had to be the first time I’d seen two well-off men stopping by for the same.

“So, what is it that you want?” I asked once the door closed and the vehicle started down the street. “I’m open to almost anything. Though, if you want something kinky, I’ll have to charge you extra.”

Mr Dreads nudged his companion who looked to have zoned out. “I am still thinking,” Mr Mask replied. “You are homeless, right?” he asked, eyes directed at me. “I see you around here often.”

In the dimness of the car, the blue of his eyes seemed luminous. Weird. Most likely not human. I’d never done it with an alien before. “Uhm… yeah, something like that. Gotta do what I gotta do, I guess.”

It wasn’t weird that he had seen me so often, especially if this was a regular route for him. I wasn’t going to question it considering I never ventured outside of my comfort zone. I stayed in the same small circle of home, school, and Jeff’s house. Anyone who frequented the area was bound to recognize me eventually.

“Is it common in this neighbourhood to sell one’s body to get a place to sleep for the night?” he asked.

Usually, I didn’t allow questions. No name, age, where I’m from, nothing of the sort. Small talk was pointless. Even though he wasn’t asking those routine questions, it still raised a red flag. One that I was not desperate enough to ignore, especially when I hadn’t done this in a while. “You’re a police officer, aren’t you?”

“No. I am just curious if this is considered normal.”

“You’re not judging me either, are you? Because you just picked me up,” I pointed out.

He turned back to the window, seeming uninterested in any further communication. “As I said, I am merely curious.”