He'd been yanked off the man in brown's knee. He'd been pulled out of the room, screaming for his Uncle to help. Help that never came. He'd been dragged up the stairs by his arms, his stomach getting burnt by the carpet. He'd been slapped because he was crying. He'd been shoved into his own bedroom, the one place that was supposed to be safe, where nothing could hurt you. He'd been forced onto the bed. He was now lying on his poor stomach with Steve lying next to him, stroking his hair. Gerard just wanted Mikey. He wanted Mikey to tell him it would all be okay. Sure Mikey was younger, but he always made Gerard feel better. But he wasn't here, Steve was. Steve wiped the tears from Gerard's soft cheek, hushing and cooing, but they both knew that he was getting impatient. Gerard just couldn't stop crying though, he was so scared..
Steve sat up and the boy thought he'd gotten bored and left. Then a strange noise caught Gerard's attention. He turned to look at Steve, who was unzipping him jeans.
"Get back to your room, Diamond" sneered Uncle James, bringing Gerard back to reality. The pure hate fizzing inside of Gerard was threatening to spill out and it was eating away at him.
He stood quickly, ignoring the head rush and stormed out of the room, brushing aggressively past James. The smirk on James' face had hurt him. He had never done anything to deserve what was happening to him. And he couldn't get out. Once you began work at The Belle-Rouge, you couldn't leave.
When he got to his room, he slammed to door shut behind him and swung open the doors to his wardrobe. Every single item in this closet disgusted him. All designed to be sexy, all designed to allure. Except for some clothes Mikey had sent him which Gerard had begged James to let him keep. James had begrudgingly allowed him, seeing as he'd brought in over $3,500 in the two previous weeks. The black skinny jeans, Misfits top and hoodie and black and white striped converse were some of his most beloved possessions.
He didn't have many things.. James took everything he unwillingly earned.He had an iPod with a few albums on, a sketchbook and charcoal pencils, his clothes and some childhood photo's with him and Mikey. Just last week Mikey had sent him a letter with some recent photo's of school life. That had made Gerard happy, made him feel at peace.
Mikey was at school several states away, Gerard had insisted upon it when the opportunity arose to live with their Grandma Elena after the death of their Grandpa. He didn't want to leave but Gerard had insisted. He didn't want Mikey stumbling across his secret life. He Mikey would be disgusted with him for going through with it, for selling himself. He didn't think Mikey would understand that he was forced to do it. But he wanted Mikey to enjoy himself, forget about his big brother, the pathetic mess he'd become.
Gerard's letters to Mikey were mundane and repetitive, telling tales of a school he didn't go to, friends he didn't have, the bowling alley he'd never seen, just heard of. Gerard's heart ached as he got dressed. He couldn't tell Mikey, his letters were scrutinized by James before they were sent. He hadn't sent Mikey a photo in years.. by now he couldn't because there was no life in his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to smile. Mikey would know something was wrong.. Gerard wanted to protect his brother from this life..
The knock at the door startled Gerard. No-one ever knocked.
What am I doing here? Frank said to himself. What was he doing there? He'd found out the location of the brothel, a little place called The Belle Rouge. He'd researched the place on his laptop, it seemed legit. A fucking brothel, though. Really Frank?
It's website had described it so enticingly that Frank couldn't resist a visit. Twelve rooms where any desire can be met, with twenty four beauties to choose from. Six men, eighteen women. That Frank was surprised at, he didn't know there would be so many working there, let alone men. Sensual massages, role-play, anything you want as long as you can pay for it. His fingers trembled at the thought of going in. He'd wouldn't be paying for sex, he'd already decided that. He just wanted someone to talk to..
Frank had entered the clean, cream lounge/waiting room. There was no-one at the desk. Frank looked around then sat down on a purple bean bag. I so have to get one of these.
After ten minutes and still nobody at the front desk, Frank stood up and considered leaving. But then he heard talking..
"Get back..room..Diamond"
Then a youngish looking boy stormed past the doorway. He was tall and lean, with raven hair. Frank hadn't seen much of his face but he caught a glimpse of his eyes. Hazel whirlpools, deep and intriguing, glazed over with tears.
Then a door slammed. Frank peered through the doorway. There was just one door to his right, the way the boy with the Hazel eyes had gone. Frank debated with himself for a moment, before deciding the guy looked really upset, maybe he needed help? He tiptoed out of the lounge and down the dark corridor. The door the black haired boy and gone through was suddenly very ominous and bleak. Frank tapped gently on the door.
No answer. He knocked again louder. Then he heard someone gasp from inside the room. Frank looked down nervously at his converse, waiting for the door to open. Maybe the boy wouldn't open it.. Frank didn't know if he worked here or if he was a visitor but it didn't matter, he just wanted to see if he was okay.
The cold gush of air from the opened door made Frank snap his head up and his eyes locked with the hazel whirlpools he'd seen earlier. His breath caught in his throat. They were beautiful.
*
Gerard's breath caught as his eyes connected with the beautiful brown eyes of the boy stood infront of him. He couldn't be too much older than him, he might even be younger. He was short though, a head and shoulder less than Gerard. He had black hair too, obviously dyed, with a red streak in the fringe. It swept over his right eye and curled by his ear. Adorable.
Wait what? Any feelings" Gerard had ever had were for show, he'd never liked anyone.. But the boy stood infront of him looked delicious in his Green Day hoodie and tight skinny jeans.
Gerard just drank the boy in, waiting for something to be said. He was surprised to hear his own voice.
"What do you want?"
Shit, what if he's a customer.. Can't talk to customers like that Gee! He told himself. ...No. Someone like this can't be a customer, right?
Frank cleared his throat a little before he spoke.
"I, uh.. I was here to, umm, book a, uh, appointment? And I uh, I saw you were...were sad and I.. well, I wanted to know if you were, um, okay?"
Sure he doesn't sound confident but mmm that voice Gerard thought, his ears had prickled at the sound of the lovely, deep, raspy voice that came from the beautiful boy.
*
Frank looked down at his shoes again, embarrassed that he'd told someone he was booking an appointment.
"I'm fine," whisphered Gerard, knowing it was a lie.. "Look I have an..appointment soon," he chuckled at the word, "But if you want to have a chat, you can come in?"
PLEASE COME IN.
"Uh, yeah," turn around Frank. "Sure, I'll come in," Frank, leave now. "Thanks." FUCK.
