Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Twenty-Two
This may just be my personal opinion, but starting a day off with your boyfriend’s tongue in your ass, is probably one of the best ways to start the day.
After discovering how responsive I can be when my ass is played with, Harry’s taken to showing off his rimming skills whenever we have the time.
And now, the day after getting back from a week with Harry’s family and our friends, we miraculously have the same day off. That gives Harry plenty of time to draw this out and make this so fucking good.
After asking if I wanted to do this, the way he always does whenever we do anything sexual, he stripped us both of our trackies and flipped me over, on my knees and leaning forward on my elbows. He spread my cheeks apart, each fitting perfectly in his hands like they were made for him to hold. He licked one big, fat strip over my hole, already making me let out a little whimper.
He teased me, lightly sucking and nibbling at and licking at my rim, drawing out the experience just the way I like it. The second he presses his tongue into me, I can’t help but let out a long, deep moan. If a man can smirk while he’s got his tongue inside another person, Harry sure as hell is as he fucks me with his tongue.
He alternates between fucking it in and out as deep as he can, and then pulling out all the way to pay attention to the rim once more. Pushing me closer and closer to cumming with every flick of his tongue and squeeze of his hands.
“F-fuck, Harry. Don’t w-wanna cum like this. Wanna...fuck me.”
For the first time since he started, he pulled back completely. “What?”
Still feeling more than overwhelmed from his tongue, I whined again and pushed me ass back at him. I want this so bad. Been thinking about it for weeks, but right now, I really need it. “Fuck me, please.”
I turned my head to look at him, and he looks so shocked, but definitely excited about the idea. “Fuck, you sure? Do you want to top?”
“No,” I shook my head. “Fuck me. Wanna feel full.”
“Okay. Yeah, okay. Just...need stuff.”
He rushed to the bedside table and rummaged through it as I rolled over onto my back. He’d tossed the nearly empty bottle of lube on the bed beside me, but it took him a moment to find any condoms. “You do have some, right?” I asked teasingly, getting a little impatient for him to get back to touching me.
“Yeah, got some somewhere in here. It’s been awhile, you know?”
Of course, I do know. Harry hasn’t had full on sex since the first time we did, all those months ago. But, really, we’re hardly counting that. And before that, I know that he hadn’t done anything in the four months that we had been dating before that. Makes sense that they would be buried under other things, especially since he hadn’t been expecting to need anything for awhile.
Finally, triumphantly, he held one up. “Knew I had one somewhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork.”
I couldn’t help the fond smile on my face. “Yeah, you are. But you’re definitely gonna have to buy more before next time.”
“I know. I’ll take care of that later. But right now,” He got in between my legs, and he leant down and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Let me take care of you. How do you want to be?”
“On my back, like this” I said with certainty.
“You sure? Cause, I know you’ve said before that you prefer riding.”
“This is another ‘only with you’ kind of things, okay? I don’t need to be in control with you. I trust you.”
“Okay.” He kissed me again, lingering this time. “Then let’s get your pretty ass ready for me, yeah?”
I let out a soft whimper as he took control of the situation. He spread my legs out further than they already had been, giving him better access to my body. He lubed up his fingers (using too much as always, which is probably why we go through so much) and brought them down between my legs.
He circled my hole with two fingers, teasing me, as he kissed me deeply. He pressed one in, even slower than I needed him to. Keeping the first finger still inside me, and then beginning to pump it in and out agonizingly slow. Despite the fact that I was already a bit stretched out just from his tongue, he still took his time with the second. And then the third.
For the first time, he isn’t doing this to make me cum as hard as he can. That will come later. So, for now, he mostly avoids my prostate. Occasionally, he crooks his fingers just so, barely brushing over it. But it was enough that by the time he pulled his fingers out, I was a moaning mess, clutching the sheets in tight fists.
Still mostly on top of me, he moaned “Fuck, Lou. So pretty.” Suddenly looking much less turned on (aside from his dick) and much more concerned, he asked “But, are you, uh, are you sure you’re ready for this? Cause, we don’t have to do this. You know that, right? We could definitely just get dressed and go have breakfast and…”
“Harry!” I grabbed his arm, distracting him from his speech. I am way to desperate for this to listen to his concern, as sweet as it is. “If you don’t get in me right now, I’m gonna fucking leave.”
He chuckled slightly, maybe looking a little more nervous than he should be. “Sorry, I just...I want to be sure that you’re not just doing this because of me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not. I mean, I sort of am doing this for you, because I want to make you feel really good. But this time isn’t like last time, okay? Do you trust me?” He nodded. “Then trust that I know myself well enough to know that I want this, and I’m ready for this. Are you ready? Because it’s the same for you, we won’t do this if you don’t want to.”
“I want this. Fuck, Louis, I want this so bad. And if you’re ready, then I am too.”
“Good.” I leant up the short distance and kissed him softly. “Then get your cock in me.”
He burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join him for a few seconds. “Way to ruin the moment, Lou. But if that’s what you want, then you’ve got it.”
He ripped open the little foil packet that had been formerly beside me, and rolled it on his cock, pumping it a couple times. Then he grabbed the little bottle and lubed up his cock.
He lined himself up and with agonizingly slow, practically minuscule, thrusts he entered me. While I got used to the feeling, he kissed me deeply, and I wasn't sure which connection felt more intimate.
Harry didn't need for me to verbally tell him when I was ready for him to move, he listened to my body. Waiting until my body relaxed around him completely and I had started to press back against him. Only then, when he pulled out a little, did he break our kiss. But, that was probably for the better. Because when he thrust back in, immediately finding my spot, my mouth opened practically involuntarily to release a drawn out moan.
He started out slow, fairly short thrusts in and out, hitting my spot every single time. But then he sped up, the sound of skin hitting skin in the most delicious way resonating throughout the room. “F-fuck Lou, so good.”
I couldn't even form words to respond, my brain becoming a muddled mess of HarryHarryMoreHarryFuckHarryHarryHarry with no room to remember how to form words. All I could do is whimper and moan and arch my back and try and thrust my ass back to meet him.
When his thrusts started to become messier and his moans got louder, I knew that he was getting close. But he kept going, jabbing my prostate over and over until I was cumming all over my shout with a shout of his name.
He kept going, working my through my orgasm while he chased his, until he buried himself deep inside of me and came with nothing but my name on his lips.
He all but collapsed on top of me, still inside of me, the both of us breathless and boneless. “You good?” He asked between pants.
“Mhm. So good. You?”
“So much better than I imagined.”
“So you imagined this?” I teased.
“Shut up.” He said with a role of his eyes. He pulled out of me, making the both of us wince. He tossed the condom (hopefully) into the bin and collapsed beside me once more. “We should get up, we’re both covered in your cum.”
“That’s not my fault, I didn’t make you lie on top of me. No way I'm standing right now. Thank god we don't have to go anywhere today, I'm definitely gonna be limping.”
“Well,” he chuckled “You can't complain about that, either. This was your idea.”
“I know.” I said, relenting. The cum is actually starting to get a little uncomfortable now, so despite the fact that my legs are jelly, we actually do need a shower. “Come on, let's go.”
He stood first, and gave me a hand up. I was right, I'm already limping a little. He giggled as soon as I started to walk, so naturally I lightly swatted at his ass to shut him up.
The shower was just as good as the sex, though no dicks were involved. He kissed under the water, taking turns washing each other's hair. We didn't talk, for words didn't feel necessary.
We were reluctant to get out. But even at the hottest temperature setting, the water was starting to get cold. Without a choice, we stepped out and towelled each other off. Back in our room, we dressed in Harry’s comfiest clothes. We could have gotten back in bed, but the room still smelled like sex so we opted for the couch instead.
We turned on some baking competition and curled up together. Whist watching a lady start to freak out over how to incorporate the surprise ingredient into her tarts, Harry said to me “You know, you’ve never actually talked about what you figured out about yourself.”
I looked up to him from his lap, where I had lain my head. “Yeah? You want me to talk about it?”
He nodded “Of course. I want to know everything about you. If you want to tell me, that is.”
“Alright.” I thought for a moment. This wasn't something I'd thought I'd do. I never thought that I would share the details that went through my mind during those months. But if I'm going to share them with anyone, Harry is the best person for the job.
“Well, I learned that I need a degree of independence, but I also like having people there that I can depend on. I learned that I don't deal with stress well, but I'm getting better with that. I learned that I really like going out with the right people, and that I love live music. I learned that I'm better at socializing and making friends than I thought I would be.”
I sat up, to look him in the eyes, seeing a sweet smile on his face.“I want to teach, preferably younger kids. And that I definitely want to adopt at least one kid of my own, but not until I have a stable job. I hate my last name, and so I decided that I will take my husband’s last name, if I get married. And…”
If I'm going to say this, this feels like the best possible time. “This is a more recent development, but I realized that I am honestly and truly in love with you.”
He was stunned. But, within a second, that small, sweet smile, grew bigger and bigger. He surged forward and kissed me, though it was really more is smiling against each other’s lips.
When we separated, he was still smiling, and I saw pure adoration in his eyes. “I love you too, Louis. With all of my heart, I truly love you.”
We were meant to be. At least, that is what I have come to believe. Coming together as kids, growing alongside each other. And then I was ripped away from him and from our best friends. But with the help of these friends, we came together again half a decade later. Found each other in a city of millions, completely by chance.
The both of us have grown and changed so much over these past few months, both as individuals and together. Both of us have been through pain and suffering and heartbreak, but it has only cemented our places together.
I have scars. Scars that strangers paid to place upon my skin. But these scars have not destroyed me. Like my scars. I will continue to heal. I will never forget. I can't possibly, with the memories engraved on my body and in my mind. But I will move on. And I will continue to grow. And I will flourish.
With Harry at my side, with my childhood friends both back in the town that used to call home, and with my new friends just a few miles away, I will continue to live the life I was meant to live and become the person that I was always meant to be.
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was about two weeks since everyone else had returned to their homes, leaving Harry and I alone together, when something happened. Nothing dangerous or panic attack inducing, but something that was a little upsetting to me.
Harry and I have been sharing a bed each night, which I loved. I slept better when there was someone else with me, especially when that person was Harry. I liked being surrounded with his scent and warmth and body.
This night was a little different. We had come home from a film and had gone to bed together, cuddling close under the covers. We both slept peacefully. For awhile. But then, I woke up.
I woke up to the feeling of something prodding against my ass. In my sleepy fog, it took me a few seconds to realize exactly what was happening. We had been spooning, me as the little spoon, so I couldn’t see Harry’s face. But it was safe to assume that he was asleep. There was no way that Harry would be rutting against me, his covered cock nudging against my clothed crack, if he had been awake.
I certainly wasn’t okay with him doing this to me while I was asleep, unable to consent, even if he was also asleep. I was quick to reach around and whack him upside the head, waking him instantly. “Wha’s it?” Harry was quick to realize what he had been doing in his sleep, springing away from me, nearly falling off the bed in the process. “Shit, Lou. M’sorry. I didn’t mean to...I’m really sorry. I’m just going to, um, have a shower.”
He bolted from the bed, not even taking the time to shut the door behind him. Within seconds, Louis could hear the water of the shower running.
The thing is...it wasn’t that bad? Had I been awake, I might not have minded it. Sure, with my record, I would have liked to have a conversation about this sort of thing first. If we had talked about it, it could have been fine. Honestly, I might have wanted...more. Maybe. I don’t know, really. But I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. Maybe. Possibly. For sure.
Harry returned ten or so minutes later, hair damp and looking quite embarrassed. I don’t know whether or not he had a cold shower or if he just wanked really fast, but either gets the job done. “Are...are you still okay in the same bed.”
I nodded, of course. And I pulled back the covers a little more to show that he really was welcome. Well, obviously he’s welcome. This is his bed. We’re both welcome, I guess.
We didn’t return to our previous position. Though arm arms and torsos are close as ever, there is a gap of at least a foot between our lower bodies. It can’t be comfortable for Harry, with the angle he’s laying at. “M’really sorry, Lou. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know.” I said softly, cutting off his apology. I knew he was sorry. We’ve done a lot of talking the past few weeks, and our understanding of each other has grown immensely. He knows exactly why what happened bothered me. With the way things have been going and with how much I understand Harry, I know that he didn’t do it on purpose. He was asleep, and you can’t control your behavior in your sleep. Especially when you’re a teenage boy with a sex drive. “It’s okay, Harry. M’not mad. Let’s get back to sleep, yeah? Talk about it tomorrow.”
Even if I’m not very bothered, we still need a chat. But three in the morning doesn’t feel like a good time for that.
When we awoke, there really wasn’t time to talk. Harry had gotten himself a full time job for the summer and I still worked, so we both had to get to our morning shifts quickly after we woke up.
Work was fine. I was a little anxious about the upcoming conversation, but that is easily forgotten at work. They were right, the warmer months are definitely busier. Much less time to goof around, that time instead being spent constantly serving customers and cleaning up their messes. There was a bit of time to chat in between customers, but not enough for any proper conversations. So it was just the usual Luke, who I was working with that day, asking me about my date the night before and me asking about their most recent gig or practice. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary for us to talk about in the two minutes between customers.
Since our shifts end at different times and the others are back at their homes, I’ve gone back to walking home from work. So after hugging Luke (and Ashton and Calum, once they arrived to take over) goodbye, I left.
Harry and I have had a bit of a deal since the others left. Since I am still completely hopeless in the kitchen, Harry cooks and I do the shopping. Which works well for me, considering that Harry and I have slightly different opinions on necessary purchases. In the past couple months, I’ve been altering my diet slightly. Mostly just a few more sugary cereals than Harry thinks I should get. I still buy all the things he wants, but this way I get what I want too.
I stopped at the shop on the way home, picking up the list we had put together the afternoon before. It didn’t take all that long to find everything, I’ve been in here enough to know where all of our usual purchases are.
The problem wasn’t the shopping, it was what happened as I was on my way home. I’ve dealt with this before, sort of. But not by myself. I’ve never been alone to deal with this before. A client spotting me in public.
This one had been pretty terrible. One of the ones who was bad enough that I had wanted to ban him, but caused just too little damage for me to be able to do so. Made it almost impossible for me to function after the session. And now, like has happened too many times before, this man has found me.
It kind of makes me wonder, what population of London men have I actually slept with? Because I feel like it’s at least two percent.
The man is one of the more intimidating looking ones, much taller than me and with massive muscles. He could easily take me down, which is why it is even more terrifying that I am alone.
“Hey, five. Where’ve you been?”
“Leave me alone,” I said with determination, trying to screw my face so that I didn’t look quite so intimidated.
When we’d have sessions before, he would start out almost polite. In the first ten minutes of the first session, I almost thought that he was sweet, despite how intimidating he appeared. Then he’d just get right into it. Which is exactly why I am not letting my guard down with how casually he is speaking to me.
“They shut down your place, yeah? Where’re you working now?”
“No where. Leave me alone.” I looked around at the people who passed us by. Of course, none of them were paying attention. None of them noticed how clearly uncomfortable I must look. Of course, even if they did notice, I doubt that anyone would step in.
“Come on, come back to my place. We can have some fun there.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him reaching for my arm. Just as his fingertip brushed my skin, I pulled away. Suddenly, it was like my veins were filling with fire. All of my hatred for those who caused me pain, for the first time, was completely forced out of me. “Stop it! I’m not your fucking play thing! You can’t just go up to boys on the street and ask them for sex! Not even if it’s happened before! I am not in that business anymore, and you have no right to touch me! So keep your filthy fucking hands off of me and leave me alone!”
And I ran. And I ran and I ran, constantly checking behind me to make sure that no one was following, until I was locked tight inside my home.
They have no right to do that. Unless I am actively offering, strangers should never assume. I am out of that house, and therefore I am not in business. Things would be much easier if these people would just leave me alone and found someone else who actually enjoy the same things that they do.
Harry came home about an hour later, finding half of the groceries (the ones that don’t need to be in the fridge or freezer) still unpacked, and me on the couch, staring gloomily at some sitcom. “Are you alright, babe.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Just a bad day.”
He was immediately at my side, though not touching me. Wary as always of setting anything off. “What happened? Bad day at work?”
I shook my head. “Nah, work was fine. It was after. A, um, a client spotted me.”
He froze, his own fear brewing in himself for me. “Were you alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.” I could tell that he was starting to get panicked, though he was hiding it as well as he always does. At least he was staying calm, not getting angry with anyone, at least not visibly. “Are you okay? Did he touch you? Or…”
“He didn’t touch me. Didn’t let him.”
“Good. Good. That’s...okay. Did you, um, have an attack?”
It hit me. No. No, I didn’t. I got through it by myself, and I didn’t have an attack. “No. I was scared at first, but I was more angry, you know? Yelled at him and ran. Think he was too stunned to think of following me.”
“Wow.” He took his own moment to think, and then he smiled. “M’really proud of you, Lou. You got through that by yourself”
Despite the fact that I had handled it, I wish I hadn’t had to. I wish someone else could have been there. Someone to keep me safe and grounded. Someone like, or specifically, Harry. “Still wish you were there.”
“Yeah, me too. Wish I could always be there to stop people from hurting or scaring you. But I wasn’t, and you still managed. Got yourself out of a dangerous situation unscathed. You should be proud of yourself. You know that you couldn’t have done that a few months ago.”
I really couldn’t have. In fact, I hadn’t. But today, I got through it. I probably wouldn’t have gotten out so well with different clients. But today, I was okay. Better than okay, I was amazing. I know that in the future, this will happen again. At least for another few years, until I look a little different. But if I can deal with them like I did today, I’ll be just fine.
“We should celebrate. What do you want for dinner? I’ll make you whatever you want. I’ll chill some wine.”
He stood, probably to get right to it, but I placed a hand on his arm to stop him. I’d been distracted all day, but now that we’re here together, there’s something that we need to do. “Actually, um, can we talk first? About last night.”
In an instant, his moderately good mood was gone as he remembered the night before. “Right, um, yeah. We should.” He sat back down, keeping a little distance between us. “I’m really sorry, Lou. I didn’t mean to do that to you. You know that I would never purposefully take advantage of you like that. You’ve got to know that I would never do anything deliberately to hurt you.”
“I know, Harry.” I scooted a little closer to him. “I’m not mad, honestly. It does bother me that that was done to me when I was asleep. But, you were asleep too. I know that you’ve got to be a bit sexually frustrated, so I get why it happened. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Thank you, Lou. You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Just as long as you know why it bothered me.”
“Yeah, I know. Never anything while you’re asleep, or otherwise unable to consent. So, um, we’re okay?” He asked, looking hopeful.
“Of course. But that’s not all I wanted to talk to you about.”
He deflated, just slightly, worry returning to his face. “Oh. What do you want to talk about?”
“It’s nothing bad. Actually, it could be a good thing.” I paused, waiting for him to ask, but he didn’t so I continued. “Well, um, while I didn’t like the way that things happened last night, I sort of, um, I didn’t mind the feel of it. Honestly, it felt kind of good. And, um, I wouldn’t mind starting to try things with you.” He looked...stunned, for the lack of a better view. Completely frozen in shock. “Well, um, I was sort of hoping for a better reaction than this.”
That unfroze him quickly, bringing him back to the moment. “Are...are you sure? Because I wasn’t expecting this, like, ever. Especially not so soon.”
I nodded, a little shy all of a sudden. “I’m sure. You know that I wouldn’t suggest this if I wasn’t ready. But, all the same, we’re going to go at my pace.”
“Yeah, I know that. I promise that I’ll always listen, okay? I’ll always listen to what you do and don’t want.”
“Same goes for me, I promise that too.”
“Good. So, um, how do you want to go about this?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. My plan only really went up to me telling you.”
“Okay.” He just sat, thinking for a moment, until it looked like he had an idea. “Can I give you a blowjob?”
I was too surprised to answer right away, by him offering so blatantly. But, I guess that we were literally just having a conversation that was straight up about sex. Really, it was a pretty natural place to take this. “Y-yeah.”
He smirked, then kissed me. Lightly at first, but as mouth opened and tongues moved together and lips were bitten, it heated up until I was starting to get hard in my pants, just from kissing. He pulled away, only to reattach his lips to my neck. Not biting, just kissing, licking, and lightly sucking. Not enough to leave a permanent mark, but my skin is probably getting red in the places he lingered.
And, fuck. I’d never liked this sort of thing before. But with Harry, I’m quickly turning into a whimpering, moaning mess. Slowly, he started dragging his hand up from where it had been resting on my thigh until it was hovering over my cock, fingers just lightly brushing over the fabric of my jeans. “Anyone ever suck your dick before Lou?”
He pressed his fingers down just slightly, making me whine. “C-couple times. Not for y-years.”
“Yeah? You want me to take care of you? Make you feel good?” I nodded dumbly. “You sure?” He asked, voice still all gravely and sexy, but slightly concerned. “We can stop if you want.”
I shook my head rapidly. “No, please. Want it.”
“Okay.” He popped the button and undid the zipper of my jeans. “Lift your bum. Need these off.” I did as he asked, and he got my jeans and pants off in one go. Harry slid off of the couch and got on his knees in front of me. He licked his hand and wrapped it around my cock, his spit acting as a lube to make the glide smoother. His hand is so big, it practically engulfs it. And fuck, if that wasn’t a sight.
He pumped my cock a few times and then leant forward, letting out a couple cool breaths out onto my cock and pressed a kiss to the tip. “Tell me to stop, okay? If you want to stop, you can tell me.”
Without hesitation, he wrapped his lips around my cock. He bobbed his head, coming back up to suck and lick at the tip. Fuck, this is so much better than anything I can remember. At that second, I was sure that nothing has ever felt so good.
All it took was for Harry to take me a little deeper down his throat, and I knew that I was close. “Fuck, Harry. M’gonna...gonna cum.”
He pulled off just slightly and, fuck, he moaned. And that was it for me. Just the vibrations his moan sent up my cock. I came, harder than I can ever remember cumming before.
He swallowed all of it, sucking me dry until I was far too sensitive.
He pulled off with a pop, and he kissed me. Just tenderly, our mouths never even opened. The kiss felt almost like a thank you, I guess. For what, I’m not really sure. For letting him in, maybe? Or for giving this a try? Something along those lines.
I redressed myself, with a little help from Harry since I’ve practically turned to jelly. “You good?”
“Yeah, m’good.” I kissed him again, just as softly as he had kissed me seconds before. “Want me to do you too?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I think this is enough for now. You look so good like that, you know. Coming undone, just for me.”
I snorted, shoving him playfully. “Shut up.”
And he just laughed. “Come on, I’ve got cooking to do and you need to finish putting away the groceries. He stood and gave me and hand doing the same. “And, Louis?”
“Yeah?”
“You should be really proud of yourself, for coming this far. I’m so proud of you.”
After that we just...continued with our day. Like he said, I put away the groceries and he cooked. We ate in front of the tv, watching a Harry Potter Movie. And then another one. And before we knew it, we had both fallen asleep on the couch, draped across each other.
A few days later, I came home from work to find Harry sitting at the kitchen table, a notebook and pen in front of him. “What’s up, babe?”
He looked to me, expression reading hopeful. “Well, I was thinking that we need to have a talk.”
Damn, thought we’d just had our last important talk for at least a few weeks. Guess not. Though, I can’t think of anything at the moment that requires a proper ‘talk.’ “What about?” I asked as I sat down beside him.
“Basically, sex.” And again, we literally just talked about that. And have been exchanging blowjobs daily since. “I think we need to talk about, like, or preferences. Our likes and dislikes. Things we want and need. I think that we just need to clarify where we both stand if we’re going to keep trying things.”
That’s actually...really smart. Establishing certain things before we go any further. “Oh. Um, okay. That’s probably a good idea.”
“I thought so,” he said with a small smile. “So, um, can you give me, like a guideline on things that are an absolute no for you?”
For a moment, I thought. Compiling a list in my head. “Anything that causes pain. Like, spanking or hitting me with anything like whips or belts. And when we have sex, I need lube and to be, um properly prepped. Also, nothing bigger than your dick in me, that would hurt too much for me to deal with, too.”
He nodded, writing that down. “Good. That pretty much goes with what I don’t like. Being done to me, or doing to you. Anything else?”
“Can’t have anyone else involved. No threesomes or orgies, ever.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I don’t want to be gagged. I need to be able to talk to you, if I need to. Also, no choking. And, um, there are some names I don’t like.”
He stopped writing and looked back at me. “Yeah? Can you tell me what they are?”
I blushed. “Just, um, slut and whore. I hate being called those. Just mean names like that. And, um, also princess?”
He looked a little confused at the word that didn’t fit with the others. “Princess?”
I winced, just at hearing him say it. “It was what he said to me. After he kissed me and left me there, he called me that.”
“Okay.” He nodded, understanding. “You don’t have to explain it, really you don’t. But thanks for telling me that. Is there anything else you’re really against?” I shook my head. “Okay. We can add things later, if you think of anything else. Now, what names do you like?”
“Just my name. And, like, sweet names.”
“Like baby and love and good boy?”
I nodded. “Yeah, exactly like that.”
“Okay. I’m pretty much the same. No dirty names for us, just sweet ones.”
“Yeah. And, um, for other sex things, I’m going to be pretty vanilla.”
“Okay. Vanilla is just fine with me.”
“But, um, there are some things I might like.”
He put down his pen. “Yeah? Want to tell me about them?”
“Well, um, I thought that I didn’t like hickies. But when you were doing them really light the other day, I really liked how it felt. Kind of like the idea of having your marks on me.”
“Okay. We can try that. Maybe start with places you can cover up easily at first, though. Just in case you decide that you’re actually not into marking. Anything else?”
“This is, um, just an idea. Not sure it would actually work out.”
“It’s okay. Just because you tell me, though, it doesn’t mean that we have to actually try it. It can just be something to keep in mind.”
“Well, um, I could like bondage, I think. Not, like, hardcore. Only hands, not legs. And it would have to be with something soft, no rope or handcuffs. A scarf or something instead. And also, I might like being blindfolded. But not at the same time. Only one thing can be done at a time. I think that either of those could feel good with you, because I trust you to take care of me. But if we do more than one thing at once, then I might not feel safe.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, completely sincere. “Just because other people did that with you, doesn’t mean that you have to do that with me. I’d be more than happy with trading blowjobs and nothing else.”
I nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that. And I know that you mean it. But I think that, with you, it could feel good. Not for awhile, but in the future at some point. But, um, only if you wanted that too.”
“Well, for me, my biggest thing is just taking care of the person I’m with. Seeing and hearing how good I make them feel. That’s what really turns me on. I wouldn’t be into something if it hurts you or makes you feel poorly, but other than that I’m up for anything.”
“Then I guess we’re a pretty good match.”
“Yeah, guess we are.” He half smiled, half smirked. “So, is there anything else?”
“Nah, not that I can think of. But we can always add to the list in the future.”
“Course. But since you’ve mentioned, like, bondage, then there’s some other stuff we should talk about. Do you have a safeword?”
“A what?”
A have a...very vague idea of what that means. But I don’t actually know. It’s not something I’ve educated myself on, or previously had the resources to look into. “Well, it’s a precaution. If we’re doing something sexual and you decide that you want or need to stop, you say the word and we stop right away.”
“Okay. I, um, I don’t know.”
“We can use the traffic light system, then. I think that would work best for us. Green means go, yellow means slow down, and red means stop. Does that work for you?” I nodded. “Now, what about aftercare?”
Yet another word that I don’t understand. You’d think that I would know this, considering that I worked in the sex industry for more than a quarter of my life. “What, um, I don’t know what that means, either.”
For a second, he looked almost sad. Sad for me about what used to happen, probably. But in the blink of an eye, the sadness was gone. “It’s what happens after sex. Particularly if you’re doing something that isn’t vanilla. It’s, like, cleaning up and relaxing, pretty much. Like, if we do bondage and you end up with, I don’t know, a raw spot from the scarf or whatever we use, making sure that it’s taken care of. And, I don’t know, a shower. Maybe a movie and cuddles. That sort of stuff.”
That actually...it makes a lot of sense. I know that I would of loved that after some of my rougher encounters in the past. It definitely would have helped me deal with things. Instead, I barely had time to take care of myself. But since I couldn’t have it then, I think that it would really help now. Honestly, it might make me, personally, more willing to try things. “Any of those things sound good to me, actually. Just as long as it’s, um, some quiet time together.”
“Okay. That works for me. Well, that’s...that’s pretty much all I can think of. You good?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just...you know that sex isn’t going to be an everyday thing, right? I have bad days, and on those days, we won’t be doing anything sexual.”
He nodded. A small, maybe a little sad smile, on his face. “I know. And m’not going to pressure you into anything, ever. Sex is going to be a small part of our relationship. It will be something that we do to make each other feel good, but it won’t be the only thing. Or the most important thing, for that matter. And that work perfectly for me, just as long as we’re both happy.”
Of course, as he always does, he said just what I needed to hear. I needed to hear that he understands me, and won’t try and change me.
“So, do you, um, want to try something?” I asked, a little hesitant.
He nodded, smirking. “Yeah. Something new?” I nodded. “Can I finger you, babe?”
I basically choked on my own spit. “N-never done that ever before.”
“Never?” He looked a little appalled. “Not even when you had sex the first couple times?”
I shook my head. “No. He, um, he offered. But I did it myself.”
“Damn. So, this’ll be the first time anyone else has ever done this for you?” I nodded. “I’ll make it good for you. Promise I will. Do you want to?” I nodded. “Do you trust me?” I nodded again. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed.”
He scooped me up out of my seat before I could react, making me wrap my legs around him as he carried me to our bedroom. He placed me gently on the edge of the bed and kissed me, hard. Little finess, all passion. Slowly, like he was making sure he wasn’t going to startle me, he placed his hands on my sides, caressing my clothed body.
“Can I take your clothes off, babe?” I nodded rapidly, lifting my arms so that he could get my shirt off and then unceremoniously shoving off the rest so that I was completely bare in front of him. Suddenly feeling a little intimidated by being the only one naked, I asked “Could you take yours off too? Please?”
He stepped away from me, only just enough that he could strip without accidentally knocking me in the face. Within half a minute, we were equally exposed, just the way I prefer it. Scooch up, babe. On your back.”
I did as I was asked, shuffling back until my head was on the pillows. Harry went around the bed to the nightstand and pulled a little bottle of lube. He spread my legs a little more than they had been, bending them to give us a better angle, and got himself comfortably in between his legs. “It’s been awhile, yeah? So it’s probably gonna be a little uncomfortable at first. But I’ll make you feel so good, yeah? Promise you that.”
As soon as I nodded, he dribbled (probably a little too much) lube onto his fingers. He trailed his fingers down over my ass until two of his fingers were brushing over my hole. “Ready?”
“F-fuck, Harry. Please.”
“Whatever you want.”
Slowly, he pressed the tip of his finger in. Damn, it really has been awhile. I can’t remember ever feeling so tight around a finger. So tight, it burned a little. He pressed his finger the rest of the way, so slowly that it felt like it took centuries. When his first finger was all the way in, he bent over and kissed me, clearly intending to distract me from the slight pain. “M-move.”
And, fuck, did he listen. He pulled his finger out slowly before pushing it right back in. Within minutes of him doing so, I was pushing back against it, begging non-verbally for more.
“I ever tell you how much I love your ass?” To punctuate his question, he pulled his finger out and added another. The second finger went in much easier. I was so eager for it, making my body relax enough to welcome the intrusion. After just a few pumps of his fingers, he started moving them differently. Crooking and scissoring them inside of me.
Then, he hit it right on, and I couldn’t help but moan loudly. “Fuck, Lou. Sound so good. That your spot?”
My response was only a whimper as we hit it again. And again. And again and again and again, over and over. “Come on, babe. Cum for me.”
There was no way I could be embarassed about cumming so quickly, and on command, because it felt too fucking good to think about any of that.
While I was l lay there, totally overwhelmed by my orgasm, Harry sat back with a massive smirk on his face.
A few minutes later, once I had more or less recovered, I sat back up to look at Harry properly. He certainly wasn’t lying when he said that making other people feel good turned him on, because he is so fucking hard. Cock red and leaking, curved up against his belly.
I wasted no time in getting my mouth on his cock. I definitely can’t deep throat him as well as I used to be able to, he’s too fucking huge and it’s been awhile, but fuck if my technique isn’t still excellent.
He was so close, it was only a few minutes until he was cumming down my throat with a loud, deep moan. And, of course, I swallowed every drop.
The two of us plopped down with our heads on the pillows. “Fuck, Lou. You’re so good.”
“I’m good?” I chuckled. “Fingering myself never felt that good. I always just got the job done. Didn’t know that I could cum untouched from fingers.”
“You did, though.” He kissed me forehead. “Looked so good. So pretty. Should get you cleaned up, though. Got your cum all over yourself. Shower?”
I nodded, humming in response. We helped each other up and into the bathroom. We kissed tenderly under the warm water as we helped wash each other, shampooing and conditioning each other’s hair and gently scrubbed the rest of each other’s bodies. Once we were dried off and warm, we dressed in our softest trackies and fell back into bed, this time just to sleep.
Holding each other close, he whispered to me “I’m proud of you, Louis. You’ve come so far, especially in the last few months.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” I whispered back, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Not as easily, at least. Not so quickly after everything. Don’t know how I would have managed if I was by myself.”
“Well, you don’t have to think about that, okay? Cause you’ve got me, and I’ve got you. You won’t have to think about being alone ever again.”
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Twenty
The second day we were all back in London, after Harry was home from class and I was home from work, we sat down on his bed for an important chat.
We were sitting across from each other, close but not quite touching. Harry, despite how much we both knew he wanted to try this, was understandably wary. “So, you’re sure you’re ready for this? I won't be mad if you want to back out now. Even if you’ve only got a bit of doubt, we shouldn't push.”
It was nice for him to say, giving me an out. But as we stand right now, I don’t want an out. “I want to. It’s not going to be as easy as it is for most couples, but I think we can manage.”
He looked more than happy to hear me say that, just as happy as I was to say it. “Okay. If you’re ready, then so am I. Now, first date. Where should we go?”
I shrugged, not really having any exact ideas.“Nothing too fancy, for sure. But also, not super casual. I don't want it to feel like we’re just mates hanging out. Cause, I mean, we sort of are. Except we’re more.”
He nodded, taking in my suggestions. “Okay. I think I’ve got some ideas.” At least that makes one of us. “You don't work Friday evening, do you? Would that work?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Now, that’s the lighter stuff out of the way. But what we really have to talk about, is the meat of it. I want for the both of us to have everything clear before we even go on the date. We know that we both want to do this, but we need to talk about what will be involved in that.
“So, um, I think we both have some things that we need to work out if we’re going to fit together. Like, um, I need to work on my trust issues and communication skills.”
He nodded, understanding where I was coming from. “Yeah. You’re already doing alright with those, though. I’m already working on my own communication skills and my anger thing, but I definitely have a jealousy problem.”
“You know that I wouldn't ever cheat, right? I know that my past doesn't totally show that, but that was my situation. If I'm with you, then I'm with only you.”
“Yeah, I know that. And same for me. And you know that I really am fine with going slow, right? We could only just cuddle for the rest of our lives, not even kissing, and I promise that I wouldn't push you for more. I’ll be satisfied with whatever you want to offer, just as long as I have you.”
Louis knew that they believed each other completely.
The first date was, in a word, excellent. It felt like they were almost getting to know each other for the first time, despite all of their history.
Harry had a really nice date planned for us. We went to a little trendy restaurant. It was a relaxed, fun atmosphere. And the food was great. The fact that it wasn't too loud was a plus, too. That way we could easily talk.
Afterwards, they went for a walk in the park. Louis was a little hesitant, thanks to what happened the last time they were in s park. But it was fine. It was still early enough that the ice cream vendor was still open, so they each got cones for dessert.
All in all, it was lovely. Much better than expected.
The whole going home together thing was a little awkward. Usually when a couple is living together, they’ve been together for a good while and they share rooms. This was not the way it worked for them. When they came through the front door, Harry pecked Louis on the cheek and wished him sweet dreams before disappearing into his own room.
We’d see each other literally ten minutes later, when they both went to the washroom to brush their teeth at the same time.
The next few dates were fairly similar. Not in location, just in the feeling. It was comfortable, thanks to how well we knew each other. But it was also exciting. I felt like I was re-learning who Harry was. Every time they went out, it seemed like he was learning something new.
Looking back at the way we had been together, it almost seems like we had been dating almost just for the sake of dating. It was hardly real. We had a connection, but that was it.
We really had needed to do this proper. Without secrets. With us taking turns to plan dates. With quiet nights in. With us saying goodnight and respectfully parting ways. With cheek and forehead kisses. Like we were courting each other.
We still hung out with other friends. Spent time apart, and together with them. I would often go watch band practices, and occasionally went to gigs too. Loving every minute of them. Harry would spend time with his university friends as well.
Weeks passed. The time for exams grew closer, and everyone grew more and more stressed. Date nights turned into quick dinners at home and then Harry studying while I read a random book beside him, sometimes quizzing him or helping him study if he asked.
There was something else stressing everyone out. The year was ending quickly and my dad was on everyone’s minds. We had yet to come up with a plan. Had yet to even talk about it again, aside from informing everyone of what had happened. Now, it really wasn’t something that we could put off any longer.
“Have you thought about getting, like, a restraining order? He wouldn’t be able to come near you or contact you.”
Of course I had thought about it. I just...I don’t know how I can go through with it. He doesn’t even remember his actions. And, don’t you need to go through a whole legal thing and prove your case? I have no evidence. I don’t know how I could convince a lawyer enough for them to help me.
I shot Harry down immediately. Didn’t let him get another word in.
More time passed until it was one week before exams were set to begin. Things had been going really well, despite all the stress. Harry and I continued to date.
One night, we had gone out to see a movie. I had shut my phone off, as you should in a movie theatre. It was a nice date. Exceptionally nice. We had walked there and home, since it wasn’t that long of a walk. On the way home, we held hands and talked, though the conversation was mostly comprised of giggling.
When we got home, before to the apartment was unlocked and opened, Harry lightly placed a hand on my cheek. “Louis, can I kiss you?”
Despite the fact that we’ve been properly dating for awhile, we haven’t kissed. Not once. But right now, after he’s asked me so tenderly, I want to. “Yes, please.”
He leant down so that I didn’t have to get up on my toes and he kissed me. It was just a gentle press of lips, only lasting for a few seconds before Harry pulled away. But it felt, not magic exactly. But warm. Like a soft heat was traveling all through his body.
They got ready for bed together, brushing their teeth side by side. With one last quick kiss exchanged, they separated and went to bed.
Right before Louis was about to fall asleep, he remembered to turn on his phone. He needed to turn on an alarm, just incase the usual morning activity didn’t wake him up.
I have a missed call and a voicemail. Just one. From a number that I could not recognize for the life of me. I listened to it. Of course I did. It could easily be something important, something involved with me starting school in the fall. Or maybe someone from the house got a new phone.
It was neither of those.
“Louis? This...this is your dad. I’m sorry if I scared you the last time we spoke. But I’d like to try again. Call me back, we need to talk.”
How did he find me? How could he possibly have found me, and after only a month or so after the last time he tried to talk to me?
But he has. He has found me. He’s got my number, it will only be a matter of time before he finds out where I live. He’s going to get to me, no matter how much I have tried to hide from me.
My immediate response was, despite my internal panic, was to run. Run right to Harry’s door and pound on it until Harry finally opened the door.
It took more time than I would have liked for him to answer, but when he opened the door, he quickly ushered me inside and sat down on the bed. “You’re okay, Lou. You’re safe in here, with me. Just gotta breathe, okay? In and out, slow and deep. You’re gonna be just fine. Breathe with me.”
Eventually, my breathing evened out and I stopped sweating and crying. Harry left the room and returned less than thirty seconds later with a tall glass of cool water. “What happened, baby? You were fine when I went to bed. What happened?”
“M-my dad. He g-got my n-number. Called. L-left a message.”
“How did he get your number?” Harry asked, voice even.
“D-don’t know. W-what if he finds out where I live? He’s g-gonna get me.”
Harry slowly laced our fingers together, giving my time to resist the physical contact if I wanted to. I didn’t. I weakly held his hand right back. “No he won’t. He’s not going to get you. I’ve got you. We’ve got you. We’re going to keep you safe. Always.”
“If I get a res-restraing order, do I have to see him again? Do I have to prove what he did?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, but that’s how it works.”
“I can’t prove it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“He’s not...I don’t think he wants to hurt me again. But I can’t see him again. Never.”
“We’ll figure something out, darling. He’s not going to get you. Not ever.”
That night, I slept in Harry’s bed. Neither of us wanted for me to be alone after the call, so we ensured that I wasn’t. He held me close against his chest and surprisingly, with the help of Harry’s even breaths and the comfortable weight of his arms around me, I slept almost soundly.
The next day, I tried to go about normally. I went to work and came home as I always did. But my anxiety has spiked especially high. Every noise from behind me makes me jump. The same with every unexpected touch. I could tell that everyone wanted to ask me what was wrong. Ask why I panicked at things that I was, lately, fine with. But no one asked, thankfully. I didn’t have to recount what my father was doing to me again.
It wasn’t spoken of at all for a few days. As each day passed, I grew more and more terrified. I had blocked the number, but I knew that my dad must have called again. There is no way that he would have stopped after only one call. It was only a matter of time until he grew tired of waiting and took further action.
The day before his exams were to begin, Harry approached me with an idea. Simple, but possibly effective. “Write him a letter. Make him understand what he did to you. It seems like he believes that he loves you. If that’s true, he will hate the idea of hurting you. I don’t think you’re in real danger of him hurting you again because of that. If you make him understand, he might leave you alone.”
We agreed that I would give it a try. If it didn’t work, I would have to obtain a restraining order. But this was my chance to make him leave me alone, and to never have to see him again.
Of course, there was the matter of actually writing the letter. Of figuring out exactly what I wanted to say and then actually translating that into written word.
I wrote and re-wrote the letter dozens of times. It was almost pathetic how many attacks this letter caused me. Harry was with me all the while. I was never alone when I tried to write. Even during exams, Harry made time to support me. Though of course, not so much that he was slacking on his studies and possibly endangering his grades.
When exams finished, Liam, Zayn, and Niall stuck around for a short while. Spending a few days celebrating the end of another year. But they soon went home.
Harry had promised me that he would not go home and leave me here alone, or take me back to his home, until we were sure that I would be safe.
We didn’t go out much in this time, I was too paranoid. Aside from the time when I worked, we mostly stayed home alone together, kissing and cuddling sweetly. I had more or less moved into Harry’s room, since that was now where I slept every night.
One day, after nearly a month since the first phone call, I figured it out. I wrote the final draft. A letter that encapsulated every single thing I have ever wanted to say to my father. And I sent it.
To Mr. Tomlinson
This is your son, Louis William Tomlinson. I know that you’ve been trying to get in contact with me, and I suppose I can understand why. But you need to know why I have not been answering your calls.
We both grieved over mom. But you did so in the wrong way. You drank. You drank so much, that there is a period of at least six months that you do not remember. In that time, you hurt me in the worst way possible. You raped me, nearly every day.
I think at first, you were so out of it that you believed I was mom. You would call me by her name and you would tell me that you loved me, something that you hadn’t done in ages. Over time, that stopped. You stopped telling me that you loved me, but you kept raping me.
I had tried to avoid you. But even if I had been out of the house long passed dark, you would always get to me at some point. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. That is why I left. Not just because of your drinking. I could have handled that. But I could not handle the pain.
Because of you, in the past few years, I have been abused over and over again. Still, I don’t regret leaving. If I had stayed with you, I know that I would have been dead long ago.
You might not believe me, but it happened. You should be relieved that I have not taken legal action against you. However, I will do so if you continue to attempt contacting me.
Never call me or attempt to find out where I live. And if you see me in public, do not speak to me or approach me.
You deserve much worse than this. You deserve to rot in prison for the rest of your life. You deserve to die. You should be pleased that this letter is all you are receiving.
I have one favour to ask. Never date again. Never have more children. Never enter a place or situation where you are close to children ever again. Seclude yourself. I know that you believe that when you are sober, you are a good man. But alcohol was not to only reason that you did what you did to me. If you are close to anyone ever again, you will hurt them. Do not allow that to happen.
You will never hear from me again. I am no longer your son and you are no longer my father.
I hope that you spend the rest of your life suffering, but it will never be as much as you deserve.
From, the boy you tried to destroy,
Louis Tomlinson
While I had been writing the letter, Harry had his family back home find out exactly where my dad was living. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult. Probably because it isn’t exactly a huge town.
Harry held my hand as I dropped the letter in a mailbox. It was out of my hands now. This was all I could do. Immediately after getting rid of the letter, Harry and I went out together, to distract us.
The next day, Harry had a thought. How was I supposed to know if he was listening to me, if I didn’t eve know whether or not he continued to call me? So, I unblocked his number.
That first day, I received seven calls. Of course, I didn’t answer a single one. But clearly dad hadn’t given up, despite the fact that I have not answered any of his calls in all the weeks he’s been trying.
I can’t expect for him to have gotten the letter yet. Letters don’t always travel quickly. They call it snail mail for a reason. But as days passed, I grew more and more anxious. He kept calling. Multiple times a day. I was starting to wonder if he is ignoring what I said in the letter.
On the fifth day, suddenly, it stopped. No more calls. Not one. And finally, I could breathe.
I never heard from him again.
I had never felt more free. They were gone. All the people who have had the greatest impact on me are gone from my life. Permanently. They can’t hurt me anymore. They can’t speak to me anymore. They can’t even see me anymore. None of them. They can’t hurt me, and hopefully they won’t be able to get to anyone else.
Harry and I still didn’t go back to his home. And we won’t not for a while. Just in case we come across dad so soon after the letter. We will go back sometime this summer, at least once. But not yet. For now, we stay in London and enjoy our version of peace.
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Nineteen
He’s guilty. Two days after the actual day in court, it was announced. He’s guilty.
But he is not being punished as much as I would like.
Despite all the evidence that should have allowed at least close to a maximum sentence, he is only receiving six years. His youngest daughter will not even be out of the house before he is released, and that is if he actually serves his full sentence. Which, odds are, he will not. At least he will be a registered sex offender when he will be released.
Who knows what his family will do. Who knows if his wife will seek a divorce. Who knows if his daughters will continue to believe in him.
But honestly, I don’t give a fuck. Even if his family stays together, they will probably never truly trust him again. He will be losing whatever job he has now, and it will be virtually impossible for him to get another one since his criminal acts cannot be forgotten. Really, his life is over. Even if he will only spend a few years in prison.
Everyone who can be punished for hurting me, is currently being punished. I am as free as I can possibly be.
Once it was all over, it felt like things slowed down. I wasn’t stress free. I still got anxious a lot. But it was much less. I was no longer scared that someone would come after me.
It had been planned that once the case was done with, since it was spring break that my four childhood friends would all be going home. After a bit of debate, it was decided that I would be going with them. I would be staying with Niall, in Greg’s old room.
But apparently I will be expected to visit everyone else’s parents, too. After mom died and dad fucked up, I spent a load of time at all of their houses. Often being present for supper and therefore seeing and speaking to them often. Might as well do that again since I am back in their son’s lives.
After one last Saturday shift with everyone present, I hugged all of them goodbye. They don’t often go home to Australia, and particularly won’t be during spring break since that is when people want to go to clubs and party. And those clubs need bands.
Then, early the next morning, we were on the road. It was only about a two hour drive, and I honestly slept the entire way. I had rode in Liam’s car, so when we arrived at Niall’s house I waited patiently for them to finish kissing goodbye (it took awhile, but I didn’t mind) so that we could unload our bags.
Maura was waiting for us right inside the door. I’m guessing that the only reason she didn’t run out the door to greet us as soon as we pulled in, was to give her son and his boyfriend some time together.
But instead of pouncing on her son, she passed right him and hugged me. It took me a second to realize what was happening, but the second I did I hugged her back just as tight. “We missed you, Louis. We all did.”
I remember being told about the time that they spent looking for me. All of them. For years. My dad couldn’t care less about me, but these people did. They’re not my blood family, but they’re as close as to it as the parents of my friends could possibly be. And I could not be more grateful for them. “I missed you too. So much.”
She gave me one last squeeze and moved on to Niall, hugging him the same way she did me.
As the day went on, us sitting down for lunch, being sent to unpack, chatting over tea, supper being eaten, and everything else in between, I wondered what they had been told. I know that they know that my dad wasn’t a good father, but I don’t know if anything else was explained.
When Maura looked at me, she didn’t seem sad. She didn’t look sorry for me. She didn’t even ask about where I had gone or what I had done. We spoke of only the past few months. Of Niall’s schooling and job, my job, our friends, and nothing else remotely upsetting. We didn’t even speak about the cases, even if they are the reason that Niall is only here for the last half of his break.
Whatever she did or did not know, I appreciate that she didn’t bring up any downers. Kept it positive, the way I like conversation to be.
Days passed. My reception at each other house was similar. Loads of hugs from mums and siblings alike.
Dads, though, were a little more distant. I didn’t feel disliked by them, or unwelcome in any way. The conversation was still quite pleasant, and they were just fine with their sons. But it was like there was a collective agreement between all dads to not touch me. Perhaps they know quite a bit about me afterall.
Spring break passed quickly until it was the evening before we were to leave.
There is one big park in town. I remember when we were younger, Niall and I used to go out there and have a kick around. None of the other boys were ever really as into football as the pair of us are, so they never really joined us. It was our place.
We didn’t have very long before we had to go back to Niall’s place for supper, but we decided to grab a football and go to the park anyway, for old times sake.
It was fun. I was quite rusty, since it’s literally been about six years since I’ve touched a football, but Niall didn’t seem to mind how out of practice I am. Not even when I kicked the ball with far too much force and sent it flying into the nearby trees. “S’fine, mate. I’ve got it.”
Niall went off into the trees before I could protest. I could have easily gotten it myself, but if he wanted to, who was I to to stop him?
Seconds after he disappeared, I heard someone shout my name from behind me. Obviously it wasn’t Niall. But it also wasn’t any of my boys or my family or anyone else from my old school.
It was my dad. I didn’t want to believe it. He was in prison. He had been arrested and he was supposed to be in prison. But he isn’t. He shouted my name again and I turned around. It’s him.
He looks...different. Closer to what I remember him looking like when I was a kid than how he was when I left. Gone is his beer belly. Gone is the beard he had been too drunk to shave. Gone are the bruised knuckles, the dark circles under his eyes, the piercing glare, all of it.
He doesn’t look angry, like he had been every time I had seen him for the last year I had lived with him. That is by far the biggest difference.
He looks happy. Incredibly happy. Happier than any person who has done what he has done deserves to be.
“Oh my god, Lou. It’s been years! Where did you go, Louis?”
I said nothing. I was...frozen. Frozen in fear of the man who ruined me. Just like I always was before he used to touch me.
“Come on, son. Talk to me!” He got closer. Closer and closer until he was directly in front of me. “Look, I know that I had some problems. I know I wasn’t there for you after we lost your mum. But I’ve changed, Louis! I’m sober now! You wouldn’t be alone anymore, Louis. Come on. Come back to my apartment with me. We’ll catch up.”
He touched me, placing a hand on my shoulder. That, I couldn’t handle. I shot away from him, but I tripped over my own feet. “What’s gotten into you, Louis? I’m not going to hurt you. You know I could never hurt my own kid. I just want to talk to you. I woke up one day, and you were just gone.”
He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember hurting me. He doesn’t remember anything. He thinks that he was just a drunk. This means that he was so fucking drunk for at least those six months that it’s blacked out of his memories.
He was directly above me and as he finished speaking, he placed his hand on my cheek. “I’m sober, Lou. I won’t hurt you.”
But he will. Fuck, he is. Seeing him out free and him touching me again is hurting me so incredibly badly.My heart was absolutely racing and breathing was becoming difficult. I knew I was on the brink of an attack.
“Lou? Louis!” That...that wasn’t my dad. Niall. It was Niall. Niall sprinting towards us from the trees that he just emerged from.
In all the years I’ve known him, Niall has never truly looked angry or intimidating. He’s kind. Sweet. Gives the best hugs. But right now, as he shouts “Get away from him!” and shoves my dad off of me, he has never looked more terrifying.
As soon my dad was on the ground, Niall grabbed me under my shoulders and pulled me up, then took my hand and started running, me trying to keep up with me. “You’re okay, Lou. Everything’s okay. We’re going to Harry’s. His house is closer than mine, okay?”
He didn’t ever give me a chance to respond, just kept running and spewing out somewhat soothing words, though they didn’t really work since he sounded far too panicked. But he was talking, at least. The last time I was pulled away from a dangerous situation, no one said a thing and that was why my attack was so horrible. I still feel like I’m drowning, but someone talking, though it sounds farther away than I know it is, is definitely helping.
“Almost there, Lou. Just hold on a little longer. Keep breathing. You’re gonna be okay.”
I tried my best, but with all the running and the events of a few minutes ago, I was struggling. The world was blurring around me, like it was spinning so fast that I couldn’t make out anything.
Finally, we were in front of Harry’s house. Niall pounded on the door while he fully supported my my weight.
The second the door opened, Niall more or less dragging me into the front room and onto the couch. “What’s wrong with him? What’s going on?” Oh, it wasn’t Harry. But I know the voice, despite how far away it sounded.
“Panic attack. Bad one. Is Harry here? He needs Harry.”
Anne’s blurred figure shot up the stairs, hopefully that means that Harry is here.
Niall lightly placed a hand on my cheek, making me focus on him as much as I was capable of doing. “You’re okay, Lou. You’re doing good.”
I don’t know how long later, but I heard Harry’s voice. “Don’t touch him, touch stresses him out more.”
Niall’s hand dropped from my cheek, though he remained beside me. “You’re safe here, Louis. You’re at my house, yeah? Nothing can hurt you in here. You’re doing so good, darling. Just got to keep breathing, okay? Deep breaths. In and out. Breath with me.” His voice was deep and slow and soothing. And then he was just breathing. In and out. In and out. I did my best to match his breaths.
Eventually, his voice became clearer in my mind and the world became less blurred. Harry was right in front of me, looking like he was trying very hard to hide his own stress. “There you are, yeah? You’re doing really well.”
He turned his gaze to the side where his mum was standing. She’s still here. She saw all of that. “Could you grab him some water?”
She instantly did just that. Harry moved to sit at my other side. “Can you tell me what happened? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He always says that, but I always do.
Anne returned with the water and handed the glass to me, still looking more than a little startled. “Th-thank you.”
She nodded as I chugged the water.
I hated to worry Harry or Anne, but I suppose that they had better know. “It was my dad. H-he was at the park.
“Your dad? You’re sure?” I nodded. “I thought he was in prison.”
“He was.” Said Anne. “Last I checked, he was supposed to be there for at least another year and a half. He must be out on probation.”
A man like that shouldn’t even be considered for probation. But, if he’s ‘changed’ the way he said he did, he must be out on good behavior.
“I just…” Niall started “I was only gone for a minute. But when I got back, he was standing over Lou.” He said, sounding horrified with himself. It wasn’t. Niall couldn’t have known what was about to happen.
“He...he said he changed. Wanted to talk to me. Wanted me to go back to his apartment. And...he doesn’t remember. Doesn’t remember hurting me.”
“Fuck.” Harry stood and walked away from the three of us. “Fuck!”
For a second, he looked as if he was about to punch the wall. He always does something like this when he’s angry. Yells or throws things or punching things. Taking out his anger on everything or everyone around him.
He raised his fist, but lost the momentum quickly so that in the end he only rested his fist on the wall.
Then he disappeared into the kitchen and the room was silent. There was no shouting coming from the kitchen. Nothing banging or clattering or smashing, either. All I could hear was Niall’s steady breathing.
Maybe two minutes later, Harry returned looking much calmer. It usually takes him ages to calm down. And he certainly needs to let it out before he can. But, though he looked on edge, he was back to normal.
He returned to his seat beside me and cautiously took my hand in his. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I’m not mad at you, just so you know. I’m just upset with the situation. We’re not going to let him get to you though, okay? Niall protected you today, right? Kept you safe? We’re all always going to do that. Protect you from everyone who tries to hurt you. We’re going home tomorrow. We’ll be hours away from him. We’ll figure something out for when summer comes. But no matter what, he’s not going to get to you again.”
Oh.
“I-I believe you.”
“Good. Good boy, You’re okay right now, though? He didn’t hurt you?” I shook my head. “Good. At least there’s that. Are you feeling better now? I nodded. “Then we’d better get you back to Niall’s. You should probably have something to eat and go right to bed. I’ll drive, just got to talk to mum quick.”
Harry stood and went to his mum. The pair went into the kitchen, and it was silent once more. Niall placed a hand on my knee and asked. “You sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just can’t believe he’s out. Can’t believe he blocked out everything he did to me. As far as he knows, all he did was neglect me. Thank you,” I placed my hand over top of his “for getting me out of there. Don’t know what I would have done if I was alone.”
“Anytime, Lou. Anytime.”
Just then, Harry returned, car keys in hand.
The car ride was silent. Since they lived so close together, it only took a couple minutes. I was about to get out of the car, except there’s something I need to know first. “Harry? Can I talk to you?”
Harry turned to Niall instead of answering. Niall, being the courteous lad be is, said “I’ll be inside. I’ll check if supper’s ready yet.”
I figured that Niall would also he letting those inside know what had happened. I didn’t mind, if it meant that they wouldn’t be asking me.
Harry waited until Niall had shut the door behind him before asking “What’s up?”
“I, um, I just, what was that? Usually when you get, you know…”
“When I’m upset, I freak out?” I nodded. Exactly. “You were right when you said that I needed to get it together. I can’t freak out like that, especially if it ends up making me hurt you, or anyone else I care about. I’ve, um, I had a couple appointments with a counselor at school. Just to figure out how I can calm myself down. Guess it worked well enough.”
“Yeah, it did. But, you did that for me?”
He shrugged. “Had problems with it before, I guess. Ever since you left. But yeah, you made me realize that I needed to get myself under control.”
He did that for me. He did that for me with no ulterior motives, just so that I would feel more comfortable with him.
“You okay, Lou? I know that what happened today shook you up, but…”
“Do you want to go out sometime?”
He froze, and so did I.
Did I mean that? Was I just saying it because he hadn’t yelled earlier? Fuck, am I ready for this?
I am. I want to be ready, and I think I am.
I had said that I wanted to get to know myself first. Really, I sort of have. Sure, I’ve still got more things that I need to figure out. But isn’t being in a relationship supposed to be being yourself, just with another person?
It can’t be the same way it was the first time it happened. Harry can’t be my only comfort or my only escape. I will need to be independent, even if we spend most of our time together.
“What?” Harry asked, still shocked.
“I mean, do you want to go out? With me? On a date?”
“A-are you sure? You’re not just saying that because…”
“No, but that helps. I’m not saying that this is a for sure thing. I’m just saying that I, um, want to try. But I want to do it proper. I want to ease into it, you know? And I need to go really slow. Like, a snail's pace. I get it if you’re not up for all my baggage, but if you want this, then I’m ready.”
A wide smile appeared on his face. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’d love that. We’ll work stuff out when we get back to London, yeah? Like, where we’re going and all that.”
“Sounds good. I’d better go inside now, though. So, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
With one more shared smile, I exited the car.
Everyone was already eating at the table when I came in. Without a word, only a couple of shy smiles, I joined them.
Conversation was pretty average, mostly just talking about our return to school in the morning and the coming couple months.
Admittedly, I am still quite tired from my attack. Sure, it was pretty minor, but it was a shit day so I’m allowed to be tired. So I was just washing up in the bathroom before I headed to bed, when Niall came in. Really nothing unusual, when you share an apartment with four guys, you end up in the bathroom at the same time. Then, just after I finished brushing my teeth, he asked “what were you talking to Harry about?”
“Just about today. Did you know that he’s been talking to a councillor? About, like, how he acts when he’s angry sometimes?”
Surprisingly, Niall nodded “yeah, he’s mentioned it before. Hadn't really been sure if it was going to work, but I guess he’s taking care of it.”
“Yeah,” I paused, drying my hands. “Also, I kind of asked him out. Like, on a date.”
He froze where he was, just about to grab his toothbrush from the holder. “You...you’re going out with him?”
Not...a positive reaction, which was what I would have been expecting. But, I guess that came with no warning. Just a surprise, for both of us. “Yeah. I want to give it a go.”
“You sure you’re ready for that? I mean, don't get me wrong, I totally support this. I think you guys could work really well together. But, are you sure you can handle this? Because, no offence, you’re not going to have an easy time with this.”
I know that. Nothing I have done has shown that I can properly be in a relationship. But I want to make this work. Sure, it’s going to be frustrating as fuck. But… “I'm ready. We’re gonna have to lay down some ground rules, already sort of started that today, but I think this could work. You know, if we communicate properly.”
Communication is definitely the biggest issue with us. Us (mainly me) keeping secrets and hiding things causes most of our problems. And they don't get fixed very quickly because of us (mainly Harry) reacting before speaking. If we can work on that, it should work. The key word being should.
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Eighteen
The next couple weeks were basically a repetition of the ones before. Lots of stress and meetings. But it was a little better, because now everyone understands so I don’t have to hide a thing. And also because now I have a couple options of people to chill with. And both groups at least sort of understand my need to just relax whenever I am not doing something directly involved with the case.
That doesn’t mean that no one asks about anything, of course. They want to stay informed and involved. But for the majority of the little free time I have when I am conscious, everyone acts as normal as I’ve ever experienced.
While I am exhausted, I at least have some good news. Jonah has been placed with a foster family. Thank god. He says that the man and woman he is now living with seem like very nice people. I hope that means that they actually are, and that they aren’t just nice in comparison to what he’s used to. Apparently the man works mostly from home, so it’s good to know that the kid isn’t alone with everything. He’ll have people to actually look after him. I just hope that they’re prepared for the responsibility.
Now, after another two and a half weeks of looking probably half alive, it is time once again. And if I thought that the last time was hard, then this must be hell. I already nearly had an attack before I even got in the car. Once again, everyone who did not come from the apartment with me is already here. Before I went into one final meeting with my lawyer I received some sort of affectionate touch (a pat on the back, a hand on my shoulder, a kiss on the head, a hand squeeze) from everyone. All very appreciated, but not effective at all. Nothing could be done to quell my fears.
I hadn’t had the clearest image in my head of him. Of course, I had seen him before the pain had begun to cloud my mind that night. And obviously I could recognize him well enough to identify him in those pictures. But this is different. This is the first time I am seeing the man who nearly killed me in the light of day. But honestly, he doesn’t look how I pictured him.
Despite the fact that he has been in prison for a couple of months, he looks put together. He looks to be in his early forties. He’s got some wrinkles, but he looks to be in good health. He’s wearing a clean pressed suit, hiding the tattoo I remember. He honestly looks like a suburban dad. A man who works hard during the day at his high-paying job and then comes home to his loving wife and 3 kids. For all I know, that could be the truth. I could be actively tearing a man apart from a family that needs him.
But honestly, I know from experience that people who commit acts of sexual assault never make good parents. It would only be a matter of time before he brought his late-night hobbies home with him.
He denied everything. Of course he did. I couldn’t have expected anything else. He shouldn’t have. We have proof that he was in that building. We have proof that he was in me. The jury will be unable to dispute that. That he purchased the services of a prostitute, which is illegal. Which he may have to serve jail time for. A short amount of time, but still time.
Different people went up on the stand and the physical evidence was presented. After this, a recess was requested by the defence lawyer and granted by the judge. I stayed with my lawyer during this, discussing all that had happened so far.
When we were called back in, the defence changed their story. He was there. He did solicit the services of a prostitute, that prostitute being myself. By admitting this, he will be receiving a sentence. But that sentence can range from a small amount of jail time to just a fine or probation. That isn’t exactly what the goal is. Which is why it is now my turn to go up on the stand.
It felt similar to the last time I was up there. It was a different courtroom, but really they’re all the same. The same little bench to sit on in the little booth thing that always smells like sweat. With a full room of people staring at you as they try to figure out if you’re lying or not.
Of course, I was asked the recount the events of that night. Which I did. Exactly as they happened. Explained the safety protocols and how I was unable to use them. How I had no way to protest what was happening to me, or to actively retract my consent. And also, how this man was given rules. How if he broke those rules, consent was retracted. The second that he decided to disregard the condom rule, it turned from sex to rape. But even before that, when he whipped me so harshly and then caused me internal bleeding. That wasn’t sex. That was a brutal sexual assault.
They protested it. I’m a prostitute who had obviously initially given consent. I am a prostitute who has slept with thousands of men and has let countless amounts of them do similar things to what he did. But I am also a person. A person who nearly died on an operating table thanks to what he did to me. A person who now suffers from nightmares because of him. I am a person who is raped. And I refuse to let them cover that up or minimize what he did. And I am a person who refuses to let him go free so soon just so that he can hurt someone else.
His wife went up on the stand. I was right, he is a father. He does have kids. Three daughters. Ages eighteen, fourteen, and ten. The woman claimed he was a loving father. A man who worked hard every day and came home in time for their evening meal. A faithful man who had always done right by her in their twenty years of marriage. Watching her cry as she spoke made me almost feel guilty about bringing my case forward. Almost. She should know that she is married to a sex offender. So should her family.
They asked her some questions. I can tell that she is truly a good person, because she did not try to lie. She had just been lied to. She admitted that for the past year and a half, every two weeks or so, he would leave after their evening meal. Kiss her on the cheek and her daughters on the forehead and then walk out the door with the excuse of a work engagement. He wouldn’t come home on those nights until midnight.
It would be stupid to think that I was his first victim. The law is not usually on the side of prostitutes. Anyone he hurt before probably didn’t go to the police. And if they did, obviously there was no evidence there. I doubt that he hurt anyone as badly as he had hurt me. Maybe he had been working his way up. Starting with just regular sex and then working his way up to his twisted fantasies. Each of those nights that he lied to his wife, he hurt someone.
All of the evidence was presented. My doctors explains the injuries I sustained. That was the first time I actually saw myself the way I was that night. Not an inch of my hand lacked the stain of blood. Officers and forensic experts further explained evidence. And the defence tried to bust us every step of the way.
At the end of it all, when the jury had left to deliberate, I was almost confident. I went in there a bit of a mess, but I have a solid case with undoubtable evidence. I couldn’t have done better. All that matters is whether the jury believes me. Whether or not they think that this was rape.
I walked out of the courtroom with my head held high and all my friends at my side.
That was, until, a girl came over and slapped me right across the face. So hard that it would have sent me to the ground if Liam hadn’t grabbed me in time.
I recognized the girl from pictures that the wife of Thomas Bradshaw had shown. She is his eldest daughter. She’s been crying, for obvious reasons.
Everyone looked about ready to pounce on her, but I sent them a look to stop them. How would that look to let them shove her or something in a court house?
She didn’t stop at just the slap, angry words quickly spewed out of her mouth. “You stupid whore! How could you do this? Just because you can’t keep it in your pants, doesn’t mean everyone else should suffer for it! My dad did nothing wrong! You’re the slut who fucked up!”
She believes it. She honestly believes that to be true. I could tell that her mother had had some doubts, but not this girl. I guess I can understand why. When I was thirteen, I remember thinking that my dad was an amazing man. I would have never thought he could be capable of hurting anyone. Not until he hurt me.
Bradshaw must have been a great father if he has her this fooled.
As soon as she spoke the last words, Harry started to lunge at her. I stuck my arm out to block him. She doesn’t deserve that, even if she did hit me first. But she needs to understand. She needs to understand that I’m not doing this to be cruel or to save my own ass. I’m doing this to stop people from being hurt.
“I’m sorry. Honestly, I am. I’m sorry that you’re losing your dad like this. But I’m not lying. Your dad hurt me, and there was DNA to prove it. And I could tell that he’s done that to people before me. No one can hurt someone as surely as he did on the first try. And he would have done it to more people. It would have come home to you eventually. Even if he didn’t want it to, something would happen. And then someone in your family would have gotten hurt. I know you don’t believe me. But you’ve got to believe that I’m not doing this to hurt you or your family.”
She looked shocked. Maybe at what I said, or maybe just that a stupid whore could string such words together. Maybe just at the fact that I had spoken so calmly. But she was shocked. Then her mask of anger returned and she stormed away again, leaving me standing here with a stinging cheek.
“Lou?” Liam said my name softly, making me look to my friends. “Lou, you’re bleeding.”
I touched my fingers to my cheek and pulled them away. Oh. She must have had a ring, or maybe her nail caught the skin. It’s not bad, but there’s blood.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Liam took my non-bloody hand and slowly led me to the restroom, I kept my head ducked the entire time to avoid undesirable attention.
Liam had me sit up on the counter (which kind of made me feel like a child, but oh well) so he could clean up the cut and the little trickle of blood that it had left. “That was really brave of you, Lou. Standing up for yourself like that.”
“I think she needed to hear it. She needed to understand why I have to do this.”
“If she doesn’t, it isn’t your fault. You did your best. We’re all so proud of you for doing this. All of it.”
“Do you think it went okay?”
Liam nodded, finally finishing with my face. “I do. I think that everyone on your side did as well as they could have. And you’ve got forensics on your side. All he has is his word” I hopped off the counter to properly face him. “But Lou...if this goes badly, we’ve got you. We’ll keep you safe. If he walks out of this, we’ll keep you safe. Always.”
“Yeah. I...I know that. I’m just really hoping that that won’t happen.”
“Me too. Come on, everyone else will be out there waiting for us. We’d better get you home. You’ve got to be tired.”
“Actually, I kind of feel like I wanna do something. I’ve been so fucking stressed about this for months and now that I’ve done my part, I wanna do something else. Something fun.”
Liam looked more than surprised. Definitely not the reaction that he had been expecting. Usually after something like this, I’d be either about to panic or about to fall asleep. But now that this is almost over, I feel almost free. Free to do something. Even if it’s just hanging out with friends, though I would rather like to go somewhere.
“Oh. Um, okay. We’ll talk to everyone else, see if they have any ideas.”
The other seven were waiting right outside the washroom, no one speaking, just standing there. “Hey, guys.”
The seven of them turned to me, sort of smiling but not truthfully. “Ready to go home, Lou?” Zayn asked. “You’ve got to be tired.”
I shrugged. “I guess. But, um, I was actually wondering if anyone wanted to do anything tonight.”
Aside from Liam, everyone looked stunned. I guess they’ve gotten used to me being exhausted all the time. Not wanting to do anything, especially after a meeting or anything involved in this case. I’ve hung out with them a few times, but each time has generally been a rather quiet night. Half the time if we’re watching a movie, I’ll fall asleep in the middle. Usually I can’t handle making plans or going out.
Sometimes I just really am not capable of being social. Sometimes I can’t deal with loud spaces or numerous people. Sometimes I just want to sleep and not see anyone.
But also, sometimes, when I have the energy, I want to go out. I want to be surrounded by friends. I want exciting movies or loud music or ridiculous conversation. And today is one of those days.
“Oh.” Said Luke. “We’ve actually got a gig tonight. We figured that you would just want to go home after this, so we figured it would be fine. It’s too late to cancel now, but if you want you could come.”
That is...actually exactly what I’d like. Loud and high energy with people I like. Besides, it’s about time that I see them outside of their garage. I’m sure that they only get better when they’ve got an excited crowd in front of them.
It’s probably going to be crazy loud, with their type of music and also the crowd. But I have never really been to a proper live show. Aside from school talent shows and a couple plays or musicals that I was involved with, and those hardly count. I’d like to have that experience at least once.
“That would be great, actually. If you wouldn’t mind.” I didn’t want to come if they were only inviting me to be nice. If they didn’t actually want me there. But considering that I’ve been to actual band practices, I’m fairly sure that I should be welcomed.
“Course,” Calum said. “We’d better get going, but one of us will text you a time and place.” He quickly adjusted his gaze so that he was talking to everyone, not just me. “You guys are welcome too. It’d be nice to have a few familiar faces in the crowd.”
The four left with smiles probably brighter than those that belonged in a courthouse before a result, but smiles that possibly made me more excited all the same.
“We should probably get home.” Said Liam. “Probably have a few hours before they go on, but we should have something to eat and change. Relax for a bit.”
We did just that, piling into the car and heading back to the apartment. A short while was spent in front of the tv, watching some random film that I didn’t really pay much attention to. No one, not even Harry, really felt like cooking, so a couple pizzas were ordered and quickly demolished.
It took me a good while to decide what I wanted to wear. I really don’t have anyone to impress, but I still want to look decent. I don’t want to wear something that would make me stick out in a bad way.
In the end, the five of us were all dressed fairly similarly. Dark or black skinny jeans and some sort of short sleeved tshirt. My own shirt just being plain and black. I was fairly plain looking, but not in a way that didn’t suit me. I looked nice, but not in a way that would draw too much attention, which was just what I was going for.
I had gotten a text from Ashton with the address and time halfway though the movie. They were playing at some bar that I, of course, had never heard of. But Liam and Niall have apparently been there before, so Liam drove.
The five of us arrived just shortly before they were to go on stage. The bar was pretty packed. It was maybe more of a club than a bar, based on the fully occupied dance floor and the flashing lights. It was more than a little overwhelming for me, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t deal with it.
I was fine, really I was. Just as long as I wasn’t left alone.
It was almost a relief when the regular club music was turned off and the band went up on the small stage. They were welcomed with cheers, like proper professional musicians should be.
They played mostly cover songs, probably to give the crowd something that almost all of them would recognize. But the best part was definitely their original songs. When they had said that they would like to have some familiar faces in the crowd, it seems that they were underestimating themselves. Based on the fact that there are definitely singing along to their originals, they have a fair amount of fans in the crowd. People who came here specifically to see them. Myself being one of them, I sang along as well.
I never tried to brave the crowd. That would be pushing my comfort levels far too much. I stayed at the back, where no one was knocking against me With just my friends and a few more people who were slightly more relaxed, most of whom were bobbing their heads with drinks in their hands.
When they finished their set, the audience went mad as they bowed. Cheering for more, but unfortunately not receiving it as the four went backstage.
A few minutes after the music returned to the regular pounding bass, the four ventured through the crowd. I couldn’t actually see them, but you could tell based on the cheers from across the room. It took them what seemed like ages to make their way over to where we were.
While we waited, the five of us (aside from Zayn, who volunteered to drive, just in case) did a couple rounds of shots. Not enough to get any of us even tipsy, it was more something to pass the time while we waited.
Eventually, the four Aussie boys appeared through the crowd and came over to where we were at the bar. They were definitely on a bit of a performer's high, adrenaline coursing through their bodies as they accepted pats on the back and compliments.
Finally, it was my turn to speak them and congratulate them on an excellent performance. I was pulled into bear hug after bear hug. “Fuck, Ash. You guys are so good. So fucking talented.” I said to Ashton as he hugged me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t heard me, though, considering that I’m basically speaking into his shoulder due to the height difference.
“You liked it?” He asked. I guess he had heard me, then.
“Loved it.”
“Good. Was about time you came to a show.”
Suddenly, my wrist was pulled at by Luke. “Louis! Come dance with us!”
With the force that Luke and Calum pulled me onto the dance floor, I didn’t really have the opportunity to say no. We weren’t in the center where people were pressed right together. We stayed closer to the edge, but we were still surrounded by strangers.
I haven’t danced in years. It was a little unnatural for me, given that I am in a completely unfamiliar environment. But after a few minutes, I relaxed into it. They weren’t doing anything that made me uncomfortable. They were just dancing for the sake of dancing. Jumping around and moving their bodies for the hell of it. Not trying to impress anyone.
Plus, no one else was trying to grind on me or touch me in anyway.
Eventually, with maybe a few more drinks in them (aside from Zayn, of course,) the others joined us so that we were just a big clump of flailing boy.
We stayed on the dance floor for nearly an hour, but then it was decided that instruments had better be loaded out of the club and that we should all probably get home. Afterall, we had no idea if I would have to go into court in the morning.
Honestly, it was such a fun night. Despite what happened earlier in the day, and the environment that would usually bring me anxiety, I had fun. A couple of drinks, excellent live music, and all of my friends actually getting along shaped an incredible evening.
I hate everything that brought us together. The abuse I dealt with that led me back to my childhood friends and to my new friends. But I love what that path has gifted me. People who make me feel comfortable and safe. Who make me feel relaxed enough that I can now do things like this.
Maybe I could have gotten to this place without those things. Maybe it would have been a much faster process. But I won’t ever know that. All I know is that right now, as I am sandwiched between two guys in a car, I feel at ease.
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Seventeen
It’s the day of Carl’s case. A day I have been preparing for for months. That loads of people have been preparing for for months. The last week has been nothing but work, meetings, and occasionally sleep.
This morning my boys helped me get ready, fixing my hair and stuff like that. It’s stupid, but I sort of feel better if I look better. If I went in there looking like shit I’d feel like shit and then the case would go to shit. I mean, I won’t feel exactly good no matter how I look. But maybe I’ll be slightly more confident in what I say.
Melissa has closed the door for the day. So everyone from work will be there with me. And so will my boys, of course.
They drove me to the courthouse that morning. I met with my lawyer first, as did everyone else who is testifying. It was nothing we haven’t done before. Just going over everything that everyone will be saying. It felt much more normal than it probably should, especially with what is about to happen.
We were all in the courtroom, waiting. I didn’t even properly realize that court had been called to order, because right before that, Carl entered. He looks much different now than he has every other time I’ve ever seen him. Usually he is dressed in an expensive suit. Now he’s wearing a suit, but it’s a very different sort. A prison jumpsuit. And he looks much older. He looks like he’s aged twenty years.
What Carl did is, without a doubt, illegal. Everyone knows that. And I will not be charged for anything that I did. But that does not mean that he will be punished and that does not mean that I will not be judged. It is all a matter of who our jury is and who they believe
Since I was the one who decided to press charges, I was first up on the stand.
“State your name for the record.”
“Louis Tomlinson.”
My lawyer was up first to question me, thank god. “How old are you, Louis?”
“Twenty two.”
“When did you move to London?”
“Almost six years ago, when I was sixteen.”
“Why exactly did you come to London?”
“My father was a sexually abusive alcoholic. So I ran away and came here.”
“What was your situation like when you first came to London?”
“I was not prepared. I had only had a few hundred dollars, so I stayed in a cheap motel and did not eat more than once a day because I could not afford to. I had tried to get a job, but no one wanted to hire a sixteen year old dropout with no experience.”
“Would you say that you were in a state of desperation?”
“Absolutely. I was starving and three weeks after I came to London I was about to become homeless as I did not have enough money to continue to live in the motel.”
“Can you explain what happened when you first entered the business?”
“I had been eating in some cheap pub when a man came up to me and offered me money for oral sex. I really was desperate, I really had no choice but to accept.”
“And that continued after that, yes?”
“Yes. He and multiple other men returned and offered the same deal.”
“How exactly did you feel about it?”
Usually feelings don’t matter in court. But hey, I’m a person and I have feelings. Maybe I can make the jury feel sorry for me. “I never enjoyed it, but I was still a bit desperate. At least with these men I sort of felt like I had the option of saying no. I never had that with my dad.”
“When did you first meet Mr. Mathews?”
Apparently that’s what Carl’s last name is. Carl Mathews. “I had just finished with a client when he drove into the alley where I was. A few of the men who had paid me for oral sex had been clients of his, so I had been stealing his business. He offered me a place to live, food, safety, and money if I were to work for him.”
“Did he know your age?”
“Yes. One of the first things he asked me was how old I was.”
“And he hired you anyway.”
“Yes. In fact, he said that he could charge more for me because of it.”
“Did he hire you right away?”
“No. He took me back to the house and he tested me out. He had sex with me.”
“Did you agree to that?”
“Of course I did. I was too hungry and scared not to. I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter, even if he told me that I did.”
“What was your job like from age sixteen to eighteen?”
“Well, I never liked it. I never enjoyed what I did, and I did have a few clients every now and then who were not good to me. But it was decent. I mean, I was safe and I had food and the people I worked with were good people who sort of cared about me. And since I was underage, I was bringing in a decent amount of money. So even though I was usually in a bit of pain, I was relatively okay.”
“What changed when you were eighteen?”
“I wasn’t bringing in as much money since I was an adult. I didn’t want to be a prostitute forever, so I needed money so I could get out of there and go back to school. So I took a new position there that would make me a bit more expensive. I became the boy who clients were allowed to act out other desires on. So they could use sex toys on me, they could tie me up, gag me, blindfold me, and hit me. Usually just with a hand, but a few used whips or belts.”
“Did that take a physical toll on you?”
“Of course. I always had bruises and I had had the security at the brothel need to stitch me up on multiple occasions. If I had had taken painkillers every time I was in pain, I would absolutely be addicted now.”
“Were there safety protocols?”
“Of course. This brothel, for most people who worked there, was relatively safe. As I said, there were security guards. All you had to do is call for them and they would come. And there was a button you could press behind the bedside table for if you could not speak or scream. And you could always ban customers too.”
“But you could not always use those safety measures.”
“No. As I said, clients could do what they wanted. So they could both tie me up and gag me if they wanted to. Then I couldn’t do anything until they were gone.”
“So even with the security, Mr. Mathews placed you in dangerous situations.”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel that Mr. Mathews took advantage of you and your situation?”
“He did, yes. Most sober people do not become prostitutes if they are not desperate. It isn’t exactly the safest career. I wouldn’t have worked for him if I didn’t need to. And he had lied about the money that he would give us. He said that he would give us ninety percent of the profits we brought in. But if that were true, I would have left at a much earlier date because I should have been able to afford to live for months without a job, and also to attend school. But he didn’t. And there were numerous expenses that he had not mentioned. He bought condoms, but that was about it. He had said that he would buy me clothes, but he didn’t. And considering that he had wanted me to be thin, I had lost a lot of weight while I worked there so I had to buy clothes sort of often.”
“He made it so you could not leave.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you stop working at the brothel?”
“A client caused severe damage to my body. I needed more than three hundred stitches and I almost bled to death. I went to the hospital and police officers convinced me to press charges. And I agreed. None of the damage would have been done if it weren’t for Carl.”
“Aside from the physical damage, what has happened to you because of Mr. Mathews?”
“Well, I difficulties with anxiety. I have panic attacks when I am stressed, and what makes me stressed enough for that to happen always relates back to the brothel and my experiences there. I cannot engage in sexual activities with anyone, no matter how much I trust the person. I can’t even flirt with people. The first time someone tried to kiss me, I had a panic attack. In the last two weeks alone, I have had seven attacks that always leave me exhausted. And I have come in contact with three former clients, and those always involve me being harassed and solicited for sex. And because of Carl, I have a lot of difficulty saying no or allowing what I am feeling to be voiced. And now, I have difficulties with who I am as a person. I was a boy who was raped by his father, and then I was a prostitute. I am attempting to adjust to regular life, but that is rather difficult when you were never allowed to have a life.”
That was it with Mr. Randall. I think I did reasonably well. I said everything that I was supposed to, and hopefully I have gained a little bit of sympathy. But then it was the other lawyer’s turn. I don’t remember his name, even though I have heard it dozens of time. I have even spoken to him once. I’m sure he’s a good man. But this is his job. It is his job to get Carl the lowest sentence possible, or no sentence at all. It is his job to get the scum out of here as soon as he can.
The questions he asked were basic. Nothing I wasn’t expecting. Nothing I wasn’t told he would ask.
Did you agree to work for him? Yes. Did he make the environment as safe as it could be? Yes. Were you aware of the risks when you begun working with him? Yes. Did he do anything to you that you did not agree with? No, not to me.
See? Nothing I wasn’t expecting. It should be alright. What he did is illegal. Everyone knows that it is illegal. I did good. As long as they believe me, he will go to prison.
Everyone else soon went up on the stand. One after another. Their experiences and questionings were very similar to mine. Until Jonah. At first it was the same. But then Randall asked him about Carl touching him. I did not know that he would be speaking about this. He said that he wouldn’t, every time I spoke to him he said he wouldn’t.
“Aside from the initial time you engages in sexual intercourse with Mr. Mathews, did any sexual activity occur between the two of you.”
“Yes. When I started there, he had said that it wouldn’t. But it did. I thought that it was a part of my job. Mostly he would just touch me in a sexual manner or have me perform oral sex on him. But occasionally he would make me engage in sexual intercourse with him. I did not know that I was the only one he would do this to.”
“Why did you allow him to do this to you?”
“I was scared. There are people out there who will hurt me if they ever found me. When I was at the brothel I was safe. Carl told me I couldn’t stay there if I didn’t do that with him.”
That was more or less it for Jonah. Then a short recess was called for. And then it would be the main event. Carl. Carl will speak. But this is not the time to worry about that. Jonah just faced one of his greatest fears. I rushed out and immediately went to Jonah, completely ignoring my other friends. I can talk to them in a few minutes. “You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
“I want him to go away.” He was almost smiling, but not quite.
I pulled him into a loose hug. “Me too. You did so good. I didn’t know you were going to talk about that.”
“Decided yesterday. Maybe I can get him a longer sentence.”
He looks so wonderfully hopeful. “I think you just might, baby.”
“I’m proud of you too.”
“Thank you. We both did great. No matter what his sentence is, we all did the best that we could.”
Who knows if what we did would help anything. But his smile brightened at my words. But then it faltered, just a little. So that he looked slightly more worried about something. “Can I tell you something else?”
I’ve told him before that he could tell me anything. I’m not one to take that back. “Anything, baby. Are you okay to stay here, or do you need to go somewhere more private?”
“Here is fine.” He took a breath and his smile was bright once more. He was arrested. My mom’s boyfriend was arrested last week. For drug dealing, I think. And mom is in rehab.”
“Wow, baby. That’s great. You’re safe now, yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s gonna be away for a long time. By the time he gets out, I’m gonna look so different he’d never recognize me. And mom...I don’t really know anything about her right now. I haven’t seen her for over a year and the last time I saw her and she had no idea who I was. She might not remember me ever, but I’m just really glad that he can’t hurt her again.”
“That’s really wonderful. Everything is finally starting to work out for you. What are you going to do now?”
“I’m gonna be set up with a foster family once this case is over. And I’ll be doing schooling online.”
“Yeah? Me too. Starting in September.”
“Me too. Got a few months to adjust to regular stuff before I need to buckle down. I’ve been doing some reading and stuff lately since I’ve been out, so hopefully it won’t take too long before I’m caught up to where I should be. But I don’t remember a lot, cause I stopped being allowed to go to school when I was eleven.”
“That’s so great. I’m sure you’ll do just fine. You can call me if you need anything, yeah? Anytime you need to talk you can call me. Or if you want, you can come visit me.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything you need. I’ve got to go talk to my friends before we start up again, okay? But I’ll see you back in there.”
“Yeah, see you.”
Almost as soon as he was out of my sight, I was more or less surrounded by eight (rather tall) men. It’s rather odd to think that the first time the two groups of four are meeting each other properly is in a courthouse. All asking how I was doing and none of them even attempting to touch me. Probably thinking I’m on the brink of having another attack. “Guys, I’m fine. I’m stressed as shit, but that went as well as I could have done. I’m not gonna have an attack or anything like that.”
There was a bit of a collective sigh of relief from the lot of them. “You did really great, babe.” Harry patted my shoulder gently, in a pure platonic gesture. His voice soft and sweet. “You’re so brave.”
I shrugged “Not scared of Carl. And I already testified, so there’s nothing left for me to stress over.” Aside from his sentence, of course.
The next five minutes was a little awkward, to say the least. Aside from myself and maybe a love of music, the two group don’t have much in common. So there’s nothing to talk about. Maybe if they meet under different circumstances it would be different. But the way it is is awkward as shit.
I was almost relieved when the recess was over and we all had to file back in. This time, since I didn’t have to worry about speaking, I was able to sit with the rest of the ‘crowd’ in the room. I was sat between Harry and Ashton as Carl was finally brought up to the stand.
I don’t know how I had trusted this man. I should have done what my instincts had told me to do the second he stepped out of that car all those years ago. I should have bolted. But I didn’t. I was far too hungry and weak I would have probably made it half a block and then I would have passed out.
And then I had continued to trust him for years. I suppose I had always known that he wasn’t a good person. Good people do not pick up sixteen year olds on the street and charge extra for them. Good people do not put the people on their care on intense diets, so that they can fit an image. Good people do not touch kids or fuck kids or let other people fuck kids. Carl is not a good person. But I trusted him. That was probably one of the worst things I have ever done.
I am not scared of him, as I said before. I’m not. But looking at him now with his unkempt appearance and usual smile completely gone, I feel uncomfortable being in the same room as I him.
His answers were what could be hoped for and expected. He was honest. Or at least honest from his own perspective.
“Why did you open a brothel?”
“You hear all the stories on the news about prostitutes out on the streets being murdered. It happens far too often. I wanted to take some of them off the streets and get them somewhere safe.”
He’s saying it in a way that makes him look like the good guy. Like he saved us. You know what? Perhaps he did. We were on the streets. We were incredibly unsafe there. But you can run a brothel without doing any of the cruel things he did to us. He has no excuse.
“But you earned yourself a profit doing so.”
“Of course, it was a full time job and a man has to make a living.”
Oh yeah, make a living. I’d say that he took at least fifteen percent of what the each of us earned every day for himself. Probably more. Hundreds of dollars every day. Food and paychecks for a couple people are not anywhere near to being as much as he took. It was all for him.
“Did you specifically look for underage prostitutes to employ?”
Almost all of us were underage when we started. The rest were twenty at the maximum. All of us looked young when he brought us in. All of us still look young. “I did not.” Sure. “But the younger ones were more at risk than those who were older. I took the ones who required the most protection.”
More like the younger ones were the ones who could earn him a greater income.
“But you did charge a higher rate for underage prostitutes. And you advertised them as such.”
“It was really for the benefit of everyone. The more I could bring in, the more they all got.”
Except that wasn’t really how it worked.
“What was your relationship like with the people under your employ?”
“Purely professional. They worked for me, and I provided for them.”
“But it wasn’t professional, was it? You engaged in sexual intercourse with everyone under your employ, no matter how young.”
“I did, yes. I couldn’t let someone take on clients before I knew that they could physically handle doing so. Everyone gave their consent, though”
“You told every one of them that this would be a one time occurrence.”
“I did.”
“But it wasn’t. You engaged in sexual activities with young Mr. Bradely on numerous occasions.”
“I had to. He needed more training than the others.”
That is, as disgusting as it may be, very untrue. Jonah had been forced to do this for years. He did not need training.
“Were you aware of Mr. Bradely’s familial situation?”
“I was.”
“And Mr. Bradely had been placed under the impression that engaging in sexual activities with you was a part of his job. Do you fire employees who will not do their job?”
“If they are able to work, then they have to. It’s just how business works.”
“Was Mr. Bradely aware of this?”
“Yes, I had told him.”
“So you told a child that if he would not have sex with you, that you would force him back out onto the streets where he would be forced back into an abusive situation.”
The manipulative son of a bitch said nothing. At that second, hands on either side of me moved to hold mine. I suppose I must look as distressed as I feel, so I really appreciate the gesture from Ashton and Harry.
After that it was just...more. More questions about him picking up kids. More questions about any threats to us. More questions about what he allowed people to do to us. More questions about money. More more more. And more pressure on my hands from the two at my side.
At every possible chance, he said that we had consented. I mean, the age of consent is technically sixteen in most cases, aside from prostitution. Though we were kids, we were still sort of adults. Adult enough, in his mind. It was our fault for being in the situation we had been in because we said yes. Not his.
Then it was over. Everyone was finished speaking and the jury has been left to deliberate. Carl was brought back to his cell and the rest of us are now allowed to leave, to wait for the verdict.
Before leaving, I thanked Michael, Calum, Ashton, and Luke for being here with me today. I really did appreciate them being here. Knowing that there was even a few more people who were there who actually believed me and understood, even if just a little bit.
The day disappeared after that. Everyone went home. I ate and I slept and that was it. I didn’t have energy for anything else.
Thank god, deliberation didn’t take nearly as long as it could have. It was only the next evening when I got the call, telling me that it was time. I quickly put myself together and went with Liam and Niall, who were unfortunately the only ones who were not busy with something I wouldn’t let them ditch. So I walked in with them at either side, appearing as stone faced as I possibly could given the fact that my hands were practically vibrating.
Most people from yesterday is here once more, obviously including Carl who possibly looked even more tired than he did yesterday.
And then it was time and the verdict was revealed. He’s guilty, of course. Just as I was nearly sure that he would be. But his punishment is not quite as high as I wish it were. But what really matters is that he is going to prison. We are all safe from him. And once he is out, he’ll be an old man. Not capable of starting up an operation like this again. That is what matters.
Obviously I’m ecstatic about this. A weight has been lifted off of me. But a weight still remains. The case that really matters is all that is left. The case where it is just me that has been hurt and just me who completely knows what happened. So if I fuck up any minuscule detail about the case that approaches, he will walk free. I have no doubt that someone else would be hurt if that happens, all because of me.
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Sixteen
Last night I had texted Zayn sometime after band practice ended. I just told him that I wouldn’t be home and not to wait up for me. The rest of the night was spent watching a few movies.
Ashton was really great about the whole thing. He was noticeably less touchy, and he did not sit beside me on the couch. Also, he had put his shirt back on. But I got it. And I didn’t mind that he put a bit of distance between us. It’s probably for the best. And it’s not like he started being an ass to anyone, he was still Ashton.
I did stay the night. On the sitting room couch, of course. We all worked the next day, so thank god Calum happens to have an extra uniform shirt because I didn’t want to go home quite yet. It was rather big on me, but it was fine.
The past eighteen or so hours, since after Aston and I talked to now at work, really have been like a break. It’s been really nice, just talking to them and listening to some music and working a little bit, but mostly just goofing off. No one has asked me anything about the cases or anything related to that. It’s been exactly what I need. A short break when I can stop thinking.
And then I was thinking in dangerous amounts.
Work has been especially slow today, just a dozen or so pairs or trios of girls, a few moms with some kids, and the odd guy. Which gave us plenty of time to not give a shit. Then there was one very small rush. Not really a rush at all, just a few groups of girls who came in about a minute apart. The boys were busy chatting them up, so when middle aged man came in it was up to me to deal with him.
He walked in with a smirk on his face and I didn’t get why until I properly looked at him. I remember him. How many guys are there, that they just randomly stumble upon me with that look on their face. I tried to fake being normal. “Hello, how can I help you?”
He was looking me up and down, and I was wishing that this shirt was hiding more of me. “You can give me a bit of sugar.”
Another joke about the whole frozen yogurt thing. How could he think that that was remotely close to a good thing to say. “Sir, what would you like to order.”
I was just trying to be professional, you know? In customer service you get a lot of rude or inappropriate customers and you just have to deal with them. So I will just deal with this. “Your ass would be great.”
This is one of those clients. One of the ones whom I have had nightmares about. One who hurt me so bad that I had no hope of working the next day. One of the ones who made that place hell. And now he is making this place hell. “Sir, that is not appropriate. P-please order something off of the menu.”
He won’t let up. You’d think that any person would be able to understand that he is not welcome here. But he isn’t. “Come on baby, don’t be like that. How does this work now? Place got shut down so Carl is working out of here? You got a back room with a bed or something? I can work without a bed if I’ve gotta, just as long as you’ve got your toys here.”
How could be possibly think that this is like that? This is a respectable business. I mean, we flirt a little. But nothing like that. “S-sir...”
I don’t know what to do...and the boys aren’t even looking over here. I don’t know how to deal with this by myself. “Let’s go, baby. Saw you through the window and I just had to come get you.”
That is...that is worse. He deliberately came in here for me. I practically brought this upon myself. “Please leave.”
Being assertive is not working apparently. He is still looking at me and his eyes are crazy dark. “Oh, I see how it is. Playing hard to get before you know I’m good for it, yeah? Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ve got cash on me.”
“Sir,” I tried to speak in a hushed tone to keep the conversation from reaching the girls who were now walking out the door, and the boys at the other end of the counter, but he isn’t trying at all. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
He reached across the counter and put his hand on my cheek. “Don’t be like that, baby. You know you want my cock. Don’t have your security to protect you this time.”
I tried to move away, but it did not work. “Sir…”
He pinched my cheek hard, pulling my face towards him. “Shut up, you little slut. Let’s get out of here. And stop calling me that, you know I much prefer it when you call me daddy. Come on, I’ll pay you extra if you come back to my place. I’ll let you try out some of my toys.”
“He’s not going anywhere with you.”
I turned my head to see an angry looking Michael quickly approaching. Finally, they heard. They noticed. “You his new boss? Little slut isn’t cooperating.”
“Get out.” Calum aggressively joined in, his regularly sweet and comforting eyes looked like they could kill. “Before we make you get out.”
“No need for that, babe. You on the menu too?”
Now that is too far. He does not get to say anything like that to my friends. He can say it too me, but not them. Michael beat me to the punch. “I said get out. This is not that type of business. Now get out before we call the cops.”
“Calm down, baby. Okay, I get it, his ass is too torn up to work today? I’ll get you next time.”
He finally got the message and walked out of the shop, a smirk still on his face. The second he was gone, Luke used his mile long legs to bolt to the door, locking it and then pulling the plug on the open sign on the window beside it. He then proceeded to pull down blinds (that I didn’t even know the store had) until you couldn’t really see out the windows at all. And then Calum and Ashton were pulling me down to the floor in a reasonably comfortable sitting position. And yeah, I am definitely having a panic attack right now. Of course I am. How could I not be? This one came on a little faster than they usually do, since I wasn’t feeling the tightness in my chest a minute ago and now I can’t breathe at all.
“Keep breathing, Louis. You’re safe here. No one’s gonna touch you.” Michael’s deep and sort of gravily, and yet very soothing voice was breaking through the fog. “It’s Michael, Calum, Ashton, and Luke here, okay? Just your friends. We’re not gonna hurt you. Not gonna let anyone hurt you. Ashton’s beside you, yeah? Try and copy his breathing. Nice and slow, Louis. Just keep breathing. You’re doing so good.”
He kept speaking in a tone much softer than his regular one, basically just repeating what he had already said. I liked that they were all here with me. I like that someone is speaking to me and that someone else is helping me breath. And then that Luke and Calum are just here for support. It’s nice. It’s comforting and I do feel safe with them.
As I started to breath a little smoother it was about time I reassured them that I wasn’t actually completely dying. “I’m okay. I-I’m okay.”
A cup was pressed lightly to my lips and I opened my mouth to welcome water. “Good boy.” Luke’s voice was soft “You’re doing really good.” For some reason, the sweet talking is sort of helping. “You feeling a little better?”
“Y-yeah. Thank you. Feel better.”
“Good.” Someone’s fingertips brushed lightly across my left arm, so it was either Calum or Michael, as Ashton spoke. “Is there anything else we can do to help you?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I feel a lot better now.”
The hand stayed against my arm and I welcomed the platonic, comforting touch as Ashton continued “That’s good, babe. Do you think you’d be okay to talk about this? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
My voice shook as I tried to collect my thoughts. “I-I didn’t r-really want to h-have to talk ab-bout this.”
“That’s okay.” Ashton almost smiled, but there was absolutely no joy in the small quirk of his lips. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No. I know that you’re probably guessing about what he was talking about.” I know that they are. The man was loud, I know that they heard what he said about me. “I think I’d rather explain things myself. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course. If you want to.”
“Okay, so, I’m gonna leave some stuff out because not everything is totally necessary.” I took a breath and another sip of water. “Okay, so you know how I had run away because I couldn’t deal with home? Basically, my dad was a drunk who sexually abused me.” I hate the looks on peoples faces when I tell them that, but it sort of is a necessary detail. “After six months I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just left when he was passed out. I took a bag and a few hundred pounds and that’s it. I got a ticket for the next train, which happened to be to London. Anyway, I couldn’t get a job. And you can’t live in London on a couple hundred bucks, no matter how cheap the place you’re living is. I was basically starving and I could only afford a couple more nights in the motel, so when a random old guy told me he’d pay me to suck his dick I wasn’t in a position to say no. And then he came back and so did a bunch of other guys. It really wasn’t that bad. I mean, I didn’t like it at all, but I needed money and it wasn’t like I hadn’t sucked a dick before. So I kept doing it.”
More water. Their eyes were still soft as they looked at me, but at least they aren’t interrupting me. If they did, I’d definitely lose my nerve. “So anyway, I guess I was stealing business. And this guy, Carl, noticed. So when I was sucking someone in a back alley, he pulled up and like, he was offering me stuff. Like, a place to live, food, clothes, and safety. All I had to do was work for him. And so I did. He tried me out, which basically meant that he fucked me. And then I was working for him. I was still only sixteen at the time, so he could charge more for me. It really wasn’t that bad back then. I had bad customers occasionally, but mostly I just got fucked. It really wasn’t that big of a deal considering that dad had done worse to me almost everyday for six months.”
Another deep breath. Fingers were no longer trailing down my arm, now I had hands laying without pressure over mine on either side. “But then I was eighteen so they couldn’t charge as much, and I wanted to leave as soon as I could. So I did the only thing I could to get myself out. I let myself be the boy people used for kinky shit. I still had normal customers, but there was a lot of guys who did things I didn’t like. And I wasn’t really allowed to say no. I could call for security if I needed to, or if I couldn’t call I could ban them, but really I didn’t get a choice in much of it. I had to flirt with them and do whatever they wanted me to do and I just had to take it. That’s sort of why I have issues with saying no or stopping things I don’t like. I needed stitches sometimes and I was covered in bruises and everything always hurt all the time. I got used to that. I wasn’t quite numb, but I was close.”
I still hate that they’re looking. But so far no one looks disgusted with me, so I guess that means that this is going pretty well. “Anyway, that man was one of those sorts. Not bad enough for me to ban him because he didn’t do much physical damage, but bad enough that I had bad dreams about him sometimes. That’s not the first time that that has happened, old clients finding me. First time it happened was when I was on a date with Harry. He freaked at me and I didn’t see him until I left. Second time the guy wouldn’t leave me alone and I couldn’t stop him. He’s where the hickeys came from.” Only Ashton knew about those, but the others still didn’t interrupt. “I don’t know what would have happened if Liam hadn’t come out. I had an attack that lasted for at least an hour. And now it has happened again, and it sucks cause it reminds me that even if I’m out that it won’t go away, unless I get some sort of plastic surgery or something.” I’ve definitely debated it, but sometimes I’m rather fond of my face.
“That’s...that’s not everything. There’s more stuff that causes a lot of my shit. There was a reason I ran away from the brothel. Someone hurt me. Really bad. I’ve got scars like this one,” I pointed to my neck, where that one was still very much visible. “all over. And he didn’t...he didn’t...he didn’t use a condom. I couldn’t see him because I was, like, tied up and bleeding and too scared to look. But he didn’t use one. And also he kissed me when he was done with me. I don’t like kissing. It was a rule there that you couldn’t kiss and I still have issues thinking about kissing people. But yeah, basically I walked out of there covered in blood and went to the apartment. Apparently I almost died, cause I was bleeding too much.”
They looked even sadder. I wish they weren’t looking at me in such a way. But I’m still not done. “Anyway, basically I’m taking that guy to court. For hurting me. And also I’m taking Carl, the guy who ran the place, to court too. And it sucks, you know? Because they both did a lot of stuff wrong and there should be more than enough to put them away. But if the jury doesn’t like me, just because I’m a prostitute, then they’re gonna walk out. And they’re gonna hurt a lot more kids. That’s sort of why I’m so stressed, because court days are really soon. So I’ve had a lot of attacks lately. But, um, yeah. Everything fucked me up a lot. I can’t talk to people, I can’t say no, I have attacks all the time, I can deal with any sort of intimate touching, I can’t smell beer without thinking about dad, and I’m just really fucked up now. And that’s basically it. That’s why I get weird all the time.”
I have told this story so many times. It almost feels repetitive. I almost feel like a broken record, spewing the same details time and time again. But it never gets any less difficult. Thank god I’m too tired to have another attack or I absolutely would be having one. I don’t feel better anymore. “I get if you don’t want to say anything, but I’d really appreciate it if you did because I’m freaking out just a little and I’d like to know if you hate me or not.”
I personally don’t think that my request is that unreasonable. They don’t technically need to say much, I just want to know if they think I’m nasty or not.
Calum was the first one to try and respond. “When are the court dates?”
“May twelfth and twenty eighth.” Just over a week away until the first one.
“Shit, that’s so soon.” Ashton lightly squeezed my hand. “No wonder you’re so tired and busy.”
“Y-yeah. I hadn’t really had any time when I wasn’t thinking about it. So, um, thanks for last night. It was nice to have a break from it.”
“Do you think…” Luke took my attention over to him. “that you might like us to come? We’re not going home for break, so we absolutely could. For, like, support.”
I slowly nodded. “Yeah, um, that would be really nice if you wanted to do that.”
“Then we’ll be there.” Mikey sent me a little smile “And we’re here if you need to talk to someone too, yeah? No offence, but you’ve sort of had a really shitty life. And you’re my friend, yeah? You’re our friend. So we’re here for you whenever you need us.”
“Th-thank you.”
A little shake returned to my voice. I’m not stressed or freaked out. Just overwhelmed by them. Obviously they could sense that, or at least Cal did. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just...thank you. Thanks for listening and for understanding and being so fucking wonderful. Wasn’t sure how you were gonna react.”
“What were your other friends like when you told them?”
“Really supporting about stuff with my dad. But, um, the only person who wasn’t a professional who I told who didn’t already know was Harry. We had, like, done stuff earlier that day. And then a client was saying things and Harry freaked.” I hated to paint Harry in such a light, especially after talking badly about him to Ashton the night before. But it was the truth. “He apologized for it the next time I saw him and he explained why he reacted the way he did and everything was fine. But I was just a bit scared that you would react the same way.”
“Well you don’t have to worry about that.” Ashton was smiling, this time there was the slightest trace of joy. “You can trust us.”
“I know. And thank you for that, it really means a lot to me.” I paused and took another breath in the silent moment. “Well, I think that’s enough of the sappy bullshit. I am going to go fix up this mess.” I gestured to my probably tear stained face and ruffled hair. “And we are opening up again because it’s probably not a very good idea to close hours early.”
I stood up, my muscles aching a little, and went into the bathroom without another word. Surprisingly, I look reasonably decent. It didn’t take much time at all to fix my appearance and then I was back to work.
And it was good. It was actually great. It feels like I was that guy from some mythological story I sort of remember from school with that guy who carried the entire weight of the world on my back, and then it was just lifted. Everyone knows. Everyone that matters knows, and seems to understand reasonably well. So I don’t have to hold back nearly as much. I had liked before when they didn’t know anything. When they didn’t have anything other than my personality and words to judge me on. But now I feel like I can talk when I need to or cry if I have to and laugh whenever I want and it’s a relief.
And I am happy. Even though I’m sleep deprived and weak as fuck I feel lighter than I have in nearly a decade.
So when I walked in the door and Harry was on the couch with bags under his eyes, I did not to what my instincts told me to do. I did not run. Nor did I immediately forgive him like a tiny tug in my heart told me to. I talked. It’s been working rather well for me lately, so I figured I might as well keep the ball rolling. “Hi, Harry.”
He looked up at me for the first time. Before he had looked half asleep, but he’s sure as hell awake now. “Hi, um, you didn’t come home last night. And you didn’t really tell Zayn why…”
“I stayed over with Ash, Luke, Cal, and Mikey.”
“Oh.” He looked even more dejected than he already was. “So you and that guy are…”
“No. You were right about him being into me, but we talked about it and agreed to stay friends.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Louis, I’m sorry…”
“No. Let me talk first.” He shut up immediately. It isn’t exactly a normal occurance for me to speak up for myself. “I’m still pissed at you. After what you did to me, there is no way I can’t be. But I am sorry for what I said to you. It was wrong of me to make fun of your feelings or what you might think of me. That was inexcusable. But I do not forgive you for what you did to me. Either you weren’t paying attention, you were lost in the moment, or you just didn’t give a shit. But you touched me in a way that you knew very well was not okay to do. And all because another boy was touching me. They’re actually a rather touchy group, you know? Not just Ash, the others had been touching me just like that and I know that that was platonic because they are straight. So Ashton touching me was not a big thing to me. But obviously it was to you.”
He wasn’t responding. He just looked at me from where he still sat with pure shame in his eyes. A part of me wanted to tell him that it was all okay and comfort him. But the rest of me knew that it wasn’t okay and I should absolutely not tell him it was. “It really doesn’t matter that Ashton was into me, what he was doing was irrelevant. What matters is that you hurt me. But the touching thing isn’t all you did wrong. You were talking about me like an object that has an owner. And that really bothered me because already, sometimes I don’t feel like a person. What they did to me sometimes made me feel like just a sex doll or something like that. But I am not an object, okay? I do not have an owner. Even if I were dating you, you would not own me in any way shape or form. Also, for the record, I was never pretending about the reason we’re not together. I really do need time to figure out my bullshit and I do not want a relationship with anyone. Anyway, after you were talking about that, you basically called me a slut. And you know what? Even if I did grab the first interested guy, that does not give you the right to say that about me. I deserve more respect than that and so does Ashton. If it weren’t for my bullshit, I might have said I liked him too last night. Because he is a good guy, and he does not deserve your disrespect.”
He winced. Maybe I went a little far in saying I would date Ashton. I very well could have romantic feelings for him if I had let myself pursue them. I wouldn’t, but I could. I think I’m getting my point across, and that is what matters. “And then to top it all off, you didn’t even try and apologize until an hour later, when the should have the second you even touched me. You know what, Harry? I do have rather strong feelings for you. But you are fucking with them, and not in a good way. First of all, you need to stop asking if I am ready to be with you. I may never be ready for you. Hell, maybe by the time I’m ready for a date you will have moved on. So please, stop asking. If and when I am ready, you’ll be the first I tell. And also, you need to get your anger in check. I know that you’ve only been angry with me two times. And I know that the rest of the time, you are wonderful. But those two times, you hurt me. I get that you were probably taken over by emotions, but that is not an excuse for what you’ve done. I don’t care what you have to do. Scream in a pillow, punch a wall, I do not care. Just get yourself in check the next time you’re angry. Because if you do anything to hurt me again just because you’re mad, your chance of us being a thing will disappear completely. I do not forgive you for what you did, but I will move past it if you are willing to fix your shit. That is it. That is what I have to say to you. If you want to say something, go ahead. But if there’s nothing you want to say, I had a old client come in and harass me and I had an attack so I would really like to have a nap so I’d appreciate it if you could get off of my couch.”
For a good minute neither of us said a thing. And then he stood, and I figured that he was going to leave me alone, like I wanted him to. But he didn’t. He looked directly into my eyes as he spoke “I really am sorry. And you’re right. I do have some anger issues and I need to get them in check. You have every right to be pissed at me. I fucked up, I know I did. And if I ever do anything like that ever again, I would absolutely understand if you ever wanted to see me again. But for this time, even if you don’t forgive me, I just want you to know that I really am very sorry for hurting you.”
“I’m still upset with you.”
“As you should be.”
“But you’re still my best friend and I don’t like it when we’re not getting along. So I don’t want to dwell on it.”
“Thank you. So, um, did you have fun last night?”
“I did, yeah. They’re really talented and we get along really well.” I smiled at the memories from less than 24 hours ago. “It was nice, you know? To have a break from all the stress and shit.”
“And you and Ashton talked things through?” He sat back down on the couch and patted the space beside him. I accepted the offer, though I did keep a little extra space between us.
“We did, yeah. I had a really minor attack. But I was fine after.”
“He helped you?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t, like, a proper attack so it wasn’t all that bad.”
“That’s good.” He raised a hand as if to pat my knee or something, but he quickly retracted it. “But you said that you had another attack today. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just tired.”
“A client came in though.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He was a bad one. The boys were busy so they didn’t notice for a minute. But once they did they made him leave and they helped me with my attack. Like, they locked up the store and closed the blinds and helped me down to the floor. And Michael was talking to me and Ashton was helping me breath. They’re actually really good at like, helping me. Really supportive about everything.”
“What do you mean supportive?”
“I told them. About pretty much everything. They weren’t mad or upset and disgusted or anything. Didn’t treat me any different after either. I mean, they were quieter, but I think that that was mostly because they knew I was tired. They’re actually going to come to the court dates. For, like, support.”
“Wow. Um, I’m, I’m happy for you. I’m really glad that you met them.”
“I am too.” Harry looks too sad to actually be happy for me. “But you know, just because I’ve got more friends it doesn’t mean that I’m leaving you guys. They’re new. They’re funny and nice and I like being around them. But you guys are my oldest friends. You’re not getting rid of me like that.”
“Thank you, Lou. Love you.”
“Love you too, Harry. I’m still really tired. Can I take a nap now?”
“Do you want to go sleep in my room? Sometimes you seem to sleep better in there.”
“Only if you join me for a cuddle.”
I do sleep better in his room, that’s for sure. But I’d quite like for him to join me. “No way I’m turning that down.”
Life is made up of a series of choices. The problem is, sometimes the choices that impact your life the most are not your own.
It is the choices of others tat have led me to where I am now, selling my body in a brothel. All was horrible, yet bearable. Everyday was painfully similar to the ones before. Until, one day, a choice I made in the past returns. And all I believed to be real or true or normal is flipped upside down.
Chapter Fifteen
Lawyers and meetings suck ass. There are two weeks left until the trial and I have spent every day of it working or in meetings or talking to people from the house. In the last week I have had three minor panic attacks from the stress of it all. That’s a new personal record.
I just want a break. One fucking day where I don’t have to think of any of it. Work is sort of a break, as weird as it sounds. They don’t know about what’s happening, so of course they don’t ask. But I can’t stop thinking about it. It is my biggest concern right now. So of course I can’t forget it.
I want things to go well and there is a chance that it will. There is a very good chance that the jury just won’t understand. And if they don’t, Carl (who’s last name is apparently Adams) will be free to pick up as many kids and he wants and Bradshaw can nearly kill as many people as he wants. It needs to go well.
This stress is fucking with my head.
Since my attack at work last week, the boys have taken to picking me up from work every single shift. I don’t mind. At the end of the day I’m exhausted so saving me from walking for twenty minutes works perfectly fine for me.
Ashton has been crazy cautious around me every time we’ve worked together since my attack. He’s not saying nearly as much. What he is saying isn’t as in depth as it was last week. It’s all surface stuff. Talking about customers and occasionally, music. Stuff that doesn’t matter too much.
I hate it. I thought I was making progress. I thought I was making friends. I guess I must have scared him off.
Today is my third shift with all four of them. First time seeing Luke, Michael, and Calum since Harry carried me out of there. And they are acting much like Ashton. It’s not like they’re ignoring me. They are talking. They’re just not saying much. They’re hardly saying anything to each other either. But they keep whispering amongst themselves. Just quiet enough that I can’t hear them. Who knows what they might be saying.
But I can see them. They definitely don’t think I can because they only do it when my back is turned. But I can. And after them doing it for four hours I am sick of it.
“You know I can see you, right? You don’t have to be so fucking gentle with me. I’m not gonna break. If you think I’m weird or fucked up that’s fine. I get it. Just please don’t talk behind my back like that.”
I don’t know what they had been saying.They could have been talking about me. But they could have been talking about anything else too. Maybe it was just regular stuff that they didn’t want me to hear. It really doesn’t matter what they’ve been saying. Even if they’re saying things about me, I’d rather have them say it out loud.
They looked startled. I haven’t said much at all today. And nothing with that tone. Luke especially. He looked like his stomach just dropped out of his ass. “W-we didn’t mean any harm. We just really didn’t want to cause another...you know. Like I did last week.”
It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just an unfortunate event that was absolutely not Luke’s fault. “Look. I am fucked up. I do have attacks. And yeah, they suck. They are scary and exhausting as fuck. But I have had three since I last saw you. And I am fine. I usually need a nap and a bit of quiet time with some people I trust afterwards, but then I am fine. And I’m not going to have one just from one word. Some people do, but I don’t. They only happen when I’m really stressed or I freak myself out. So please just...be normal. I’m not gonna die if you talk about stuff other than the weather.”
Luke nodded, a shy smile appearing on his lips. Looking at me like he understood. “I know they don’t cause permanent damage, but I also know that they suck when they happen. I used to have them sometimes a few years ago. I guess we were probably overreacting, huh?” I nodded. They were. I get where they’re coming from. Especially now that I know that Luke used to experience the same sort of thing. I guess that must be how they all sort of had an idea on how to handle it. “But can you promise that you’ll tell us if you feel uncomfortable with something we do or say?” I nodded again. “Then we’ll work on the whole normal thing.”
The first thing that happened was that the music was changed from some soft music to their music. That certainly helped everyone relax. After a few hours we were back to the way we were last week before anything happened. I could tell that they were still being a bit careful. They weren’t flirting with customers today. And the topic of sex was avoided. Which I was fine with.
Except that they were obviously stopping themselves from saying some things. That’s something I did not want to happen. So I guess I’m going to have to fix that. “So what kind of stuff does your band play?”
That lit everyone up just a bit and Calum was more than happy to answer. “Mostly covers. Stuff like this.” Meaning the music that was playing. “But we started writing some original stuff a while back.”
“That’s sick. How did you start up?”
“Knew each other back in Australia.”
Michael chimed in with his slightly excited, louder voice. “Calum and I have been friends since we were little, but Luke and I hated each other. We bonded over music.”
Calum nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, that’s true. Then we got a proper gig and we figured out that we needed a drummer, so Michael facebook messaged Ashton and we were officially a band.”
“So you’re like, pretty professional then.”
Ashton gave a shrug. “Pretty sure you have to be making a living off of it for it to count as professional. But we book gigs wherever we can. It’s sort of why we all moved out here. Better connections available. You wouldn’t still be interested in coming to a rehearsal, would you? We could always use an audience to practice in front of.”
This is it. Exactly what I wanted. A break. “I’d love to. When and where?”
“Tonight maybe? If you’re free.”
I don’t have anything tomorrow that I need to be up early for, so why not? “Yeah. For sure.”
“Great. We, um, we usually start an hour or two after we finish up here. We rehearse in our garage. We could come and pick you up, or you could just come back with us right when we’re done. Either works.”
“Maybe the first one. I always have dinner with my boys at home.”
“You know, you’ve haven’t really talked about your friends much. They seem a little bit...overbearing. Like, you always say that you have to get home immediately and shit like that.”
“They’re just protective. They don’t control what I do. Some shit has happened and they just like to be sure that I’m safe. They’re all really great. I’d known them for ages before I left and we re-connected not long ago.”
“Why did you leave?”
Damn it. Just when things were going well. It’s okay, Louis. It’s an innocent question. You are allowed to be vague. “Things weren’t going well with my dad. So I left. Came to London and started working right away.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen. I know, I must seem like an idiot for running away like that. It was easier to just leave than deal with what was happening.”
The boys were listening intently. I’m really glad no customers have come in since we started talking, or this would be awkward. “Do you ever regret leaving?”
Ashton’s voice had gotten softer and he had moved closer to me. I did my best to keep myself calm. I’m doing pretty damn well, if I do say so myself. “I think about it sometimes. I don’t think that things would have gotten any worse than they already were. And a lot of shitty stuff has happened because I decided to leave. But in the end, no. I don’t regret it. There’s no way I could have handled living there longer than I did.”
I think he could tell that I was starting to get a little uncomfortable so he backed off and the subject was changed. And then it really did go back to like it was last week. Now that that has happened I feel closer to them, now that they know that little tidbit of information about me.
Slowly more jokes were made and girls were flirted with and they were back to being unexplainably tactile. And this week, it felt better. This week I liked it. So when Ashton had his arm around my waist when we were ready to leave and Harry walked in, I didn’t think anything of it. It felt too natural. It wasn’t until Harry was glaring at his arm that I realized that maybe it wasn’t supposed to be there. I said goodbye to everyone and went around the counter to where Harry was. “You ready to go, darling?”
Him calling me like that is a little strange. He usually only does that when we’re alone or I need comfort. So to say call me that in front of my four new friends is definitely strange. I turned back around to say something else before I left, which is exactly when things got uncomfortable. Harry put his hands on my hips and moved in close until my ass was pressed against him. That is just...that is not okay. You do not do this with your friends who you know have issues with intimate touch. You especially don’t do this in front of people you don’t know.
“So I’ll come by around eight to pick you up, yeah?” Ashton asked. We had agreed earlier that he would be the one to pick me up.
Harry reacted to that question faster than I could. He rucked up my shirt just enough to rub at the now bare and visible skin on my left hip. “Y-yeah. I’ll text you the address. I’ll see you guys later.”
I left as fast as I could, but not fast enough for Harry to be forced to detach himself from me. I walked out of there with his hand just above the swell of my ass. I made it until we were in the car before I freaked. “What the fuck was that?”
“What did he mean by he’s coming to pick you up?”
“I’m serious, Harry. Why did you do that?”
“Are you going out with him?”
“What? No, Harry. I’m going to watch their band practice. Not that that’s any of your business. Why were you doing that? You know I don’t like being touched like that. Especially not in public.”
“Yeah? Then why weren’t you freaking out at him? He was touching you and you didn’t do a thing about that.”
“That is very different and you know it. That was just friendly, platonic touching. What you did was not okay.”
“That was not platonic. Not with the way he was looking at you.”
“Is that what this is about? You touched me in a way that you know very well was going to make me uncomfortable just because another guy touched me?”
“He needs to know that you’re not his to touch.”
“What? Did you...are you saying that you touched me because you had to show him that I belong to you? Like I’m your fucking property? Fuck you, Harry. You know very well that I am not yours.”
“You might as well be. We both know that you will be.”
I had to take a pause when I said that. I tried to believe that that is just the jealousy and anger talking. Except it’s really not. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said. First of all, I am not a fucking trophy or toy. I do not belong to you. I belong to myself and no one else. Secondly, I never said that I would date you. I do have feelings for you. But I said maybe. And maybe does not mean yes. Get that in your huge fucking head. I told you that you were free to go find a different option. It’s only fair that I’m allowed to be free to do the same if I want to.”
“Is this whole figuring yourself out thing even happening? Or is that just an excuse for you to not get with me. Because by the looks of it, you’ve grabbed the first guy who was remotely interested in you and you’ve hopped right on his dick.”
For a second I thought that he would apologize. That he would realize what he just said to me and tell me that that wasn’t what he meant. But he didn’t. We had arrived so he parked the car and he just sat in silence. “So that’s what you think of me, huh? You just called me a slut. You know what? I’d rather be a boy who hops on every dick than one who does what you did to another person. You are such a manipulative asshole. How many times to I have to tell you that I do not want to date you? I have said it countless times and yet you’re still doing this. What do you do, huh? What do you do that keeps you hung up on me? Do you fantasize about me? Picture me getting fucked by you? Tying me up and treating me like your little bitch? Cause that’s obviously what I am to you. Just a person you can make do whatever the fuck you want when you want it. News flash, Harry. I am not yours and I never have to be yours.”
I got out and slammed the door behind myself. I walked as fast as I possibly could to keep as large of a distance as I could between us after he got out. When I got into the apartment I completely ignored Niall and Liam making out on the couch and Zayn cooking something in the kitchen. I don’t really have a space of my own in this place for me to go. So I hid out in the bathroom and angry cried.
Maybe an hour later Harry came knocking on the door. “Come out, babe. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for pushing your boundaries.”
Pushing? Pushing? He did not push. He fucking slaughtered them. He grabbed a huge ass fucking machete and hacked my boundaries to pieces until they didn’t even exist anymore. He didn’t give a shit about them then, so why should I believe that he cares right now?
I ignored him.
I didn’t leave the room until about half an hour before Ashton was supposed to come and get me. Harry was sitting on the couch. He looked like he was going to say something, so naturally I held up a hand to signal for him not to. And he didn’t. I only came out to grab some clothes and then I walked right back in. I changed and I fixed my hair and re-covered up the slightly yellowed bruising that remained on my neck and jaw and made sure that I didn’t look like I had been crying.
I hadn’t really been looking when I grabbed my clothes, I just grabbed the first clean thing I had in my cupboard. I had accidentally grabbed my tightest pair of jeans and the tightest t-shirt. I think I look pretty damn sexy. I hadn’t exactly tried to look like this. But I do look really good.
Pretty soon after I was finished checking myself out, Ashton called. “Hey, Lou. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll be down in just a minute.”
I quickly left the bathroom and the apartment, ignoring Harry once again. I dashed to the elevator. “Are you okay? You didn’t look so good when that guy came to pick you up.”
“Ash, I’ll be there in less than a minute. Let’s not talk about that over the phone.”
I stepped out of the building right then. Luckily, Ashton’s car was parked right in front so I didn’t have to look for him. For a supposedly broke uni student/musician he has a pretty nice car. “Hey Lou, you ready to go?”
For not even a second I saw him look down at the rest of me, but then his gaze went right back to my eyes. “Yeah, really looking forward to this.”
“We are just amateurs, you know. Don’t get too excited or we’ll just let you down.”
“I’ve heard you all singing. And if you’re anywhere near as good with some actual drumsticks as you are with a couple of spoons I already know that you’re great.”
“I guess we’ll have to see.”
The four of them have a small house together. It’s nice. Nothing special, but the outside looks nice. The inside is nice as well. It’s not very decorated and it’s a little bit untidy, but it looks comfortable and lived in. “Come on, we rehearse in the garage. Others are already out there.”
It was at this time when I realized how differently Ashton was dressed from how he usually would be at work. His t-shirt is a bit ripped so his tanned skin is a bit visible and his curls are tied up with a bandana. He looks good. Really good.
They were indeed already in the garage just sitting on a couch that was pushed to the side of the room. I couldn’t help but think that it was just a little bit weird that they have a garage and yet they don’t use it for their two cars. But I guess the garage is probably the only place there would be enough room to have a proper rehearsal.
They all looked a little bit different here than at work. For sure much more relaxed. They are in the exact place they should be, together with their instruments. They all greeted me and we transferred spots so that they pushed me onto the old looking couch (which is more comfortable than it looks) and they went to their instruments. “You ready, Lou?”
“Absolutely. Blow my mind.”
And holy fucking shit, did they ever. They switched between covers and their own songs. Which in my opinion, were all beyond excellent. They are all ridiculously skilled and I love their voices and they absolutely are destined to perform together.
At some point along the way Ashton lost his shirt (which I guess makes sense, he’s going pretty hard on those drums) and it was just a bit distracting to say the least. Especially since he’s so sweaty.
After maybe a dozen songs they decided that it was about time for a break. So grabbed a couple bottles of water and came and sat beside me. Yet another couch that is definitely too small for five people to sit comfortably. So we were all pressed tight together, arms around each other to get them out of the way.
I know that I’ve only known them for a short while, but I have gotten really comfortable around them in the past...well, in the past ten hours really. Maybe it’s because I don’t really feel all that judged by them. With the fact that they already know a bit of shit about me and they don’t treat me much differently and the way they feel comfortable enough to be completely themselves around me, I think it makes sense.
So when conversation became more personal there was only brief moments of hesitation on my part every so often, each of which I got over remarkably quickly. And the next thing I knew, we were talking about sex. Wild jump, going from music to sex. But it happened. Thanks to Michael, of course. He apparently isn’t shy about this topic. “Okay, so, there’s a thing that I have always wanted to know but Luke, Calum, and I are too straight and Ashton won’t tell us. I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but…what exactly does bottoming feel like?”
Okay, not expecting that. How do I even answer that? “You know that I would definitely tell you if I experienced it.” Said Ashton, teasing lightly.
Tonight I was expecting to listen to them play and maybe talk to them a bit. But mostly to relax. Not to discuss anal sex with my new friends. “I don’t know. It feels...usually it feels pretty good. But it sort of depends on the other guy. If you’re not prepped properly or if the top doesn’t give a shit about how the bottom is feeling then it doesn’t feel that good. But if the guy can find your prostate then it feels nice.”
“Does dick size matter much with anal?”
“Not really. Like I said, as long as he can get at the prostate then it’s good. But a big dick can help.”
“Biggest dick you’ve ever had?”
I thought for a second. “Eleven inches, I think. Guy had a big dick, but I’m pretty sure that most of it was in his personality. Didn’t do anything for me.” The memory is not a fond one. Fucked me so hard I was bleeding and crying. I finally sort of realized exactly what sort of discussion we were having. “Oh my god, talking about this is the absolute gayest thing I have ever done. And I’ve had orgies, so that’s saying something.
Fuck shit fucking shit. I think I forgot who I was talking to for a second. It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about. You do not talk about orgies with new friends. That’s even worse about talking about anal. I guess Ashton thinks the same. “You’ve...you’ve had orgies? As in multiple?”
Fuck, they must think I’m so disgusting now. “I-I don’t do that anymore. Don’t do any of that anymore. Haven’t for awhile. I’m not a...you know what”
“Hey, no, I never said you were anything. It’s fine. You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
“We’re gonna, um, we’re gonna go look for some snacks.”
Smooth exit, Calum. They all left and Ashton and I were left completely alone. Did I mention that he’s not wearing a shirt? Because he’s still not wearing a shirt. And it’s even more distracting when we’re about to have what will probably be a very uncomfortable discussion. “You know we won’t think badly of you for doing that sort of thing, right? Sex doesn’t make you a bad person. Even if it’s, you know, with multiple people. Are you okay right now? Because you don’t seem very okay right now.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I just usually don’t talk about this sort of stuff with anyone. It just slipped out.”
“Don’t worry about it.” His arm was around me. He started gently moving his fingertips soothingly over my shoulder. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I am.”
“Good. You know, um, you didn’t seem that okay earlier. You know, when that guy was touching you.”
“That was...that was just Harry. He gets weird sometimes.”
“Why was he doing that when you obviously weren’t okay with it?”
I shrugged, moving his arm a little as I did. He moved it right back and possibly held me a little closer. “I don’t know. He wasn’t jealous but like...he didn’t like the fact that you were touching me, I guess. So he decided to make a show of it. He wanted to show you that I didn’t belong to you.”
“I thought you weren’t dating anyone.”
“I’m not. I’m not dating him. But we sort of had a thing for awhile.”
“So he was touching you in a way that he knew you didn’t like just because he didn’t want me to touch you. You don’t belong to him.”
“I know. That’s exactly what I told him. Thanks for understanding.”
“No problem, babe. How could I not get it? He was being an arsehole.”
There was a pause and I took in what was happening. I am being held by a funny, sweet, gorgeous, sweaty, and shirtless boy. And I don’t know how I’m feeling or what I want to be feeling.
“I don’t know...shit, I don’t know what you’re thinking right now. And I know that we don’t know each other very well. But I want to. I really want to get to know you. Everything about you. I mean, you’re beautiful. And I really like talking to you. And I really really want to kiss you right now. Louis, I like you.”
And then he was leaning forward and holy shit this is a thing that is happening and fucking shit, Harry was right. He was fucking right. I must give off a slutty aura or something. I have slept with every single man who is attracted to men that I have ever met. Why would Ashton be any different. How could I be so stupid that I would believe that it would all just go away?
So I repeated an action for the third time in the last couple hours. I held up a hand to block him. He was definitely surprised when his lips hit my hand instead of my lips. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t…”
“It’s fine.” He looked rather dejected “I guess I was misreading signals.”
Thank fucking god be backed off, but he was reading me. I made him think I wanted him. I made him think that and I wasn’t even trying to. I am perpetually doomed to be a slut. I wouldn’t be surprised if I get raped again someday soon because I’m such a fucking slut.
“Hey hey hey, look at me.” He gently put a finger on the side of my chin to make me face him. Oh god, he’s gonna try it again. “I’m not mad.” Thank fucking Jesus, he’s not trying it again. “You’re allowed to say no.” Sometimes I forget that. “And I’m not gonna kick you out or get you fired or anything just because you don’t want to kiss me.” That is another major relief. “I mean, I like you and I thought that you liked me too. So I’m a bit upset. But it’s my fault for reading you wrong. Guess I read you the way I wanted you.”
“No. It’s my fault. I messed up again. I must have been flirting or being slutty or something. I must have been.” I tucked my knees up into my chest, feeling the need to become as small and invisible as I possibly could.
“You really weren’t, Louis. I mean, maybe you were flirting just a little. But not really after the first two times we talked.”
“No. I must have been. I always do. I always act like a slut. Whenever any guy is remotely interested in me I turn into a slut. Harry was right about me.”
“You need to calm down. Breathe for a minute with me.”
I hadn’t realized that I had really started to panic until he told me to breathe. But I suppose that’s how it usually works with me. I never know what’s happening until after it already is. I did breathe with Ashton. He followed my tips on how to speak to me during this sort of thing, so that really helped a lot. Since I was hardly going under at that point it didn’t take nearly as long as it usually would to calm down.
“You feeling okay now?” I nodded. I am, yeah. Still rather freaked out, but I think that I’m thinking a bit straighter now. He handed me a water bottle and I took a few sips. “Do you want to talk about this?” I thought for a minute. No, I don’t want to talk about it. But I freaked out in front of him and he probably thinks that this is his fault, so he deserves an explanation. I nodded. “Can you start with Harry? Because I know that you were upset by whatever it is he did and it seems like that probably played into this.”
“Is it okay if I sort of go back to the beginning? Stuff probably won’t make sense if I don’t.”
“Of course, do whatever you need to do.”
“Okay, so, um, I mentioned that Harry and I used to have a thing. We did. We were dating. It wasn’t, like, proper dating because I could only see him on Sundays. And I only was properly alone with him a few times through the four months we were together. But it was nice, yeah? He cared about me a lot, which is a thing that I’m not really used to. I cared about him a lot too. But then a bad thing happened and we broke up. I don’t want to say what it was, it was just bad and it was my fault. But then a month later we were reunited and we were talking and he’s just so sweet to me all the time, you know? And he asked me if I wanted to get back together with him. I did want to. But I couldn’t. Some bad stuff has happened to me, and I realized that I couldn’t date him because I have no idea who I am, you know? I wanted to figure out who I was as just Louis and not as Harry’s boyfriend.”
I took a deep breath and paused. I’m starting to get myself a little worked up. “I told him that he should really try and move on because even though I still have feelings for him, I don’t know when I’ll be okay enough to try dating. But he didn’t move on. He still likes me too. He brings it up sometimes. Sometimes when we’re alone and things are really nice and I’m happy, he’ll ask me if I’m ready. I always say no and he was sort of okay with that. But then he walked into the shop today and he saw us touching and he didn’t like it. So then he was touching me, and I didn’t like it and he knows that I don’t like to be touched the way he was touching me, especially when other people can see me.”
I took another break. “He was really mad. Really mad at me because I was letting another boy touch me when I wouldn’t let him. I told him it was platonic, but I guess I was wrong about that too.” Ashton winced, just slightly. The guilt grew inside of me. “I asked him why he was so mad, and he said it was because I wasn’t yours to touch. That I didn’t belong to you. Like I was an object. Which in my experience, isn’t far from the truth. I don’t feel like a proper person a lot of the time.” Another break. “But anyway. I got mad at him for saying that about me and I said that I didn’t belong to him. But he said that I basically did, or that I would soon.”
Another break to calm myself down. Ashton started to rub circles into my shoulder, like he had been doing before. “So I got even more mad at him. And I said that I could choose who I did things like touching with. But then he accused me of lying to him about why I couldn’t date him. And then he...he basically called me a slut. Said that I had found the first guy who was even just a bit interested in me and that I was gonna jump on him. That’s it. I know I overreacted a lot. I do that a lot, too. But it bothered me a lot because it made me feel less like a person. I’ve been, like, working on that a lot in the last few months and then it felt like I hadn’t done anything at all. And he basically confirmed all the stuff I’ve been trying to stop myself from thinking. Harry is the person who takes care of me. He pretty much always has been. But now the person who is supposed to care about me the most, is treating me like shit so I feel like shit and I feel dirty and disgusting and I just really don’t know what I’m supposed to do to fix things.”
“It seems to me like it’s not up to you to fix things.”
“What?”
“He messed up.”
“But I said bad things about him too.”
“What did you say?”
“I was just being really nasty to him. I was...I was making it sound like it was bad that he still likes me. I was basically just saying that he wasn’t a good person because he asks me if I want to date him. And I got carried away, saying that he probably fantasized about treating me like his little bitch because he was talking to me like I was.”
“Okay, well, that is a little bad. But that was all follow up stuff, right?” I nodded. “You said that after he did and said a lot of stuff to you even though he knew that those were the exact things that really bothered you. You saying that wasn’t a very good thing. Do you know how he feels about those things you said?”
I shook my head. “No. We didn’t talk after. But I was picking on the fact that he has feelings for me. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, but he is the one who really messed up. He really upset you and he knew it, and it seems like he just kept going with it. I can’t tell you what to do about this, but I do think that you have the right to be upset. What happened after the fight?”
“Well, um, after I said those things I sort of stormed out and I locked myself in the bathroom. An hour later he came to apologize, but I ignored him. And then when I went to get some clothes to change into he tried again, but I didn’t let him.”
“It’s okay to let him feel guilty about this, okay? I don’t think it’s a bad thing to make him think about what he did and why it was wrong. You can wait until you’re ready before you talk to him.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, Lou. Anytime.”
“I’m sorry that I don’t…”
“Stop apologizing for that, Lou. It’s just a little crush. I’ll get over it. Don’t feel bad about it.”
“You really are a great person, you know? You’re funny and nice and attractive and talented and in general you’re just wonderful. But I have issues. Even if Harry weren’t a problem, I’m still not in a place where I can date or do pretty much anything intimate. I think that you would be an amazing boyfriend, I just don’t think that we belong together.”
“I can understand that, and I won’t push it. We’re still gonna be friends. How are you feeling now?”
“A lot better, actually. Been under a lot of pressure lately and it’s nice to get it off my chest. So thanks for that.”
“No problem.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, so I asked. “What are you thinking?”
He bit his lip as if pondering a difficult decision. But then in the end he did speak. “I don’t want you to take this in the wrong way, but I was just thinking something. You live with Harry, yeah?” He didn’t give me space to answer before he continued. “I was thinking that maybe you wanted some space from him before you have to talk. So maybe, you can absolutely say no here, but do you want to stay the night? Not like, in an intimate way with me or anything. Just on the couch or something. Just take a break from him.”
I did think about it. For a few minutes, in fact. It sounded really good to me. I’d like to have a proper break from everything. If I go home Harry might be there waiting to apologize, or he’ll be somewhere else and I’ll wish he were with me. Either way, I don’t want to go home. But Ashton… “Are you sure that would be okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Then, if you’re sure you’re okay with it and if the others are okay with it, then I’d really appreciate it.”
“It’s settled then.” He paused and looked at the door “We’ve been here talking for at least twenty minutes, yeah?”
“About that, yeah.”
“If I know them as well as I think I do, then they’ve definitely been listening through the door for most of that time.”
“Oh.”
“Does that...does that bother you? That they might have heard that?”
“I don’t think so, no. Just means they won’t ask about it too.”
